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"S-Steve?" Peggy's voice trembled as she took another step closer, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, her emotions overwhelming her as she stared at the frozen figure of Captain America, still encased in ice after all these years.
Peter watched her, his earlier frustration melting away as he saw the depth of her reaction. He had known this would be emotional for her, but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely.
Peggy's hand dropped to her side, her eyes never leaving Steve's face. She seemed almost afraid to blink, as if she might lose him again if she did. The tears that had welled up finally spilled over, trailing down her cheeks as she whispered, "Steve… you're really here…"
Her breath caught in her throat as she continued to stare at the frozen figure of Steve Rogers. The years had not diminished his appearance; he looked just as handsome and determined as she remembered, even through the thick coat of ice that encased him.
The sight stirred a whirlwind of emotions within her—joy at seeing him again, but also deep sadness, knowing the circumstances that had led to this moment.
She turned to Peter, her eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you… thank you so much, Peter," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I can finally give Steve the proper burial he deserves, instead of that empty grave they gave him all those years ago."
Peggy's tears began to flow more freely as she continued, her voice wavering between happiness and sorrow. "I've always held out hope that one day… somehow… I'd see him again. But now that I have…" She glanced back at Steve, frozen in time. "It breaks my heart to see him like this. He looks just as he did before, so handsome, but he's…"
Peter began to realize the misunderstanding. Peggy thought that Steve was gone forever, that this was the final chapter in a story of loss and sacrifice. But Peter knew differently. He had brought Steve back not for a burial, but for a reunion.
"Peggy," Peter began, stepping closer, his tone gentle yet firm, "I didn't retrieve Captain America so that you could bury him."
Peggy looked at him, confusion crossing her tear-streaked face. "What? What do you mean?"
"I brought him back so we can thaw him out and wake him up." Peter declared.
Xavier, who had been quietly observing the exchange, now appeared equally puzzled. "Peter, he's been frozen for over fifty years. There's no way he could still be alive."
Peter met their gazes, his expression confident and sure. "That's where you're wrong." He turned back to Peggy, a smile on his face. "The surprise I had in store for you wasn't that you'd finally be able to say goodbye. It's that you won't have to say goodbye at all."
Peggy's brow furrowed, a mix of hope and skepticism playing on her features. "But… how? He's been frozen for so long… there's no way he could have survived…"
Peter could see the doubt in her eyes, the wariness that came with years of mourning and holding onto a memory. But he was here to change that.
Peter explained, "The idea came to me when I thought about how we found Bucky. Remember, Hydra cryogenically froze him so they could thaw him out whenever they needed, whether for missions or twisted experiments. Now, bear with me. Bucky is essentially an ordinary human, right? But he survived being frozen."
Of course, Peter was well aware that Bucky wasn't entirely ordinary anymore, though they hadn't discovered that yet.
Peggy nodded slowly, following his train of thought.
"So," Peter continued, "I started thinking—if Bucky could survive cryogenic freezing, then what about Captain America? Steve isn't just any normal human. He's a genetically engineered super soldier. With this in mind, I started digging into it and discovered that he crash-landed in the North Atlantic, right? So, I figured, if the water was cold enough, then maybe, just maybe, he wasn't dead but frozen… just like Bucky."
Peggy's eyes widened slightly as she absorbed Peter's words. A glimmer of hope began to shine in her eyes, but it was tempered by years of realism and loss. "But… you don't know if he's actually alive, Peter. It's been so long…"
She looked back at Steve, her heart torn between wanting to believe and fearing to hope.
Peter, however, smirked, his confidence unwavering. "Actually, yes, I do know that he's alive."
Peggy blinked, her heart skipping a beat. "How?"
Peter stepped closer to Steve, placing a hand gently on the ice. "Because I can feel it through the Force. He's alive in there, Peggy. His life force is still strong, just waiting to be awakened. We just have to thaw him out and wake him up."
Peggy's breath hitched as she processed Peter's words. The possibility that Steve was still alive, that she could see him again, truly see him, after all these years, was almost too much to bear. She felt a surge of emotions—hope, disbelief, joy, fear—all mingling together, threatening to overwhelm her.
"He's… alive?" Peggy whispered, her voice trembling.
Peter nodded, his expression softening as he met her gaze. "He's alive, Peggy. I promise you that."
A tear slid down Peggy's cheek as she let out a shaky breath. The hope she had long buried began to surface, stronger than ever. She reached out, her hand hovering over the ice that encased Steve, not quite daring to touch it yet.
Xavier, who had been quietly observing, now stepped forward, his voice gentle. "If what Peter says is true, Peggy… this could be a miracle. We should proceed carefully, but with hope."
Peggy nodded, her resolve strengthening. "We have to do everything we can to bring him back. We have to try…"
Peter smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. This was the moment he had been working toward, the moment when Peggy's hope would be rekindled. Now, it was time to see it through.
Peggy gave Peter a tearful smile, her heart swelling with gratitude and hope. "Thank you, Peter… thank you so much…"
…
After the emotional revelation, Peggy wasted no time in taking action. Her mind was racing with a mixture of hope, anxiety, and determination. She quickly pulled out her phone and contacted the same team of scientists and doctors who had successfully thawed out Bucky. If anyone could handle the delicate process of thawing Steve and ensuring his survival, it was them.
As soon as the call ended, Peggy turned her full attention back to Steve, watching over him as if he might disappear at any moment…
…
Soon enough, the frozen figure of Captain America was carefully lifted from Peter's ship by a team of highly trained operatives, each one moving with the utmost care and precision under Peggy's intense scrutiny.
"Careful!" Peggy's voice rang out, sharp with urgency. She followed closely behind as they began to move Steve out of the hangar and toward the medical facility within the Red Room. "If anything happens to him, I'll hold you personally responsible. Understand?"
The team nodded, their faces pale with fear. They knew better than to underestimate Peggy Carter's wrath, especially when it came to something as important as this. There was no room for error—not when they were dealing with the last chance to bring Captain America back to life.
As they carefully transported Steve down the halls, Peggy hovered over them, her sharp eyes never leaving the frozen figure. Every movement was scrutinized, every adjustment watched with hawk-like focus. She wouldn't tolerate any mistakes, not when the stakes were this high.
If even a single hair on Steve's head was damaged, Peggy knew that she wouldn't hesitate to make sure someone paid for it a thousandfold!
Finally, they reached the infirmary, where the team began setting up the necessary equipment to start the delicate process of thawing Steve out.
Peggy stayed close by, monitoring everything, her presence a constant reminder to the staff of the importance of their task.
…
Meanwhile, back in the hangar, Professor Xavier turned to Peter, who had been quietly watching them cart off Captain America. There was a thoughtful look in Xavier's eyes as he regarded the young man.
"You did a good thing today, Peter," Xavier said, his voice warm with approval. However, a note of concern crept into his tone as he continued, "But tell me, are you certain that Captain America is truly alive? Even with my abilities, I couldn't detect any brain activity from him. I didn't want to mention it while Peggy was here… but I must admit, I'm worried. I hope you haven't given her false hope."
Peter met Xavier's gaze steadily, his confidence unwavering. "I understand your concern, Professor, but the Force doesn't lie. I can feel it—Steve is alive. He's just… dormant, like Bucky was. You'll see. He'll wake up, just like Bucky did."
Xavier studied Peter for a moment, searching his face for any hint of doubt. But Peter's expression remained resolute, his belief in the Force and his abilities shining through.
Finally, Xavier nodded, though there was still a hint of caution in his demeanor. "I truly hope you're right, Peter. For Peggy's sake, and Captain America's as well..."
…
..
.
With the events of the day behind him, Peter decided it was time to turn in for the night. The fatigue from lifting that massive ship out from the bottom of the ocean had taken its toll, and all he wanted was some rest.
Peter could feel the weight of the AllSpark around his neck, a constant reminder of the power it held and the possibilities that awaited him. But that would have to wait until tomorrow. For now, he needed sleep.
As Peter settled into bed, he recalled his promise to call Padmé more often. A small smile played on his lips as he put on his mask, reached for his datapad, and made the call. It wasn't long before Padmé's face appeared on the screen, her smile brightening the moment she saw him.
"Hey, you," she greeted, her voice warm and affectionate.
"Hey, Padmé," Peter replied, his voice softening. "Just wanted to check in. How are things on your end?"
They talked for nearly an hour, catching up on the latest news, sharing stories, and simply enjoying each other's company. It was moments like these that reminded Peter how normal his life could feel, despite how truly abnormal it was.
Eventually, the call came to an end, and Peter set his mask and datapad aside, feeling a sense of contentment as he drifted off to sleep, his eyes falling shut…
————
The next morning, Peter woke up feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the day. Before anything else, his mind immediately went to the information he was expecting from Tony. If all went well, today would mark the beginning of his hunt to find one of his favorite Transformers.
Without wasting any time, Peter made his way to the lab in the Red Room that Tony had commandeered and turned into his personal workshop. As he entered the room, he found Tony passed out amidst a sea of metal parts and tools, his workbench cluttered with various components and gadgets.
In front of Tony, on the table, was the partially completed Iron Man suit he had been working on. Even at first glance, Peter could tell that this was something special.
Unlike the clunky and rudimentary Mark 1 suit from the movies, this version was sleeker, more refined—closer to what would have been a Mark 3.
[Insert picture of Iron Man Mark 3 here]
The design was impressive, especially considering that this version of Tony Stark hadn't had to build his first suit in a cave under duress. Instead, he had access to all the advanced technology, materials, and tools that Rocket, Shield, and the Red Room had to offer.
Peter couldn't help but be impressed. Tony Stark was a genius, and it showed in every detail of the suit. Give the guy the right resources, and he'll create wonders.
As Peter was about to wake Tony up, a mechanical, British voice spoke from the surrounding speakers, stopping him in his tracks. "Mr. Quill, I would advise against disturbing Mr. Stark's rest," the voice of Jarvis said politely. "He has been working non-stop for the past twenty-four hours and could use the sleep. However, if you are here for the information you requested, I can provide it to you now."
Caught off guard by the disembodied voice, Peter looked around the room awkwardly, unsure where to direct his response. "Uh, yeah. That's actually why I'm here. What do you have for me, Jarvis?"
Jarvis replied immediately, "Based on the information you provided, we were able to locate a Samuel James Witwicky, an eighteen-year-old high school student residing in Los Angeles, California. He attends Tranquility High School and lives with his parents, Ron and Judy Witwicky, at 117 Elm Street. Both parents are still married and alive. Samuel has no siblings, but his..."
Jarvis continued, listing off more mundane details about Sam's life—his recent grades, extracurricular activities, and more. Everything Peter could need to track the kid down.
As Jarvis finished the list, the sound of a printer activating caught Peter's attention. A sheet of paper slowly slid out from the large printer across the room. "Everything I've listed is on that sheet of paper," Jarvis said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"
Peter walked over to the printer and quickly skimmed the information on the paper. It was thorough, covering every detail Jarvis had mentioned. Satisfied, Peter asked, "Does Sam have a driver's license? Maybe a new car registered in his or his family's name?"
There was a brief pause before Jarvis responded. "Samuel Witwicky received his driver's license two days ago, but there are no vehicles registered under his name. His family owns two cars, neither of which are new. The most recent purchase was five years ago."
Peter nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. "Got it. Thanks, Jarvis. That's all I need for now."
"You're welcome, Mr. Quill," Jarvis replied. "If you require any further assistance, please do not hesitate to ask."
With the information in hand, Peter left the lab quietly, making sure not to disturb Tony, who was still fast asleep. Today was off to a good start, and with this new lead, he was one step closer to finding Sam Witwicky and, hopefully, his favorite Transformer.
————
Across the Red Room…
The infirmary was quiet, save for the soft hum of the medical equipment and the faint sound of Peggy's steady breathing. She sat slouched over in a chair beside the bed, her head resting on her folded arms, which were laid across the edge of the mattress. Her hand was tightly clasped around Steve's, holding on as if she might lose him again if she let go.
Steve Rogers, once frozen in a block of ice, now lay peacefully on the bed, his complexion warm and rosy, as if he had never been through the ordeal of being lost to time.
The doctors and scientists had worked tirelessly throughout the night to safely thaw him out, and their efforts had paid off. He looked as though he could wake up at any moment, and Peggy hadn't left his side since.
Her exhaustion had finally caught up with her, and she had drifted off into a light sleep, her dreams filled with memories of the man she loved—the man who had returned to her after so many years.
The room remained still, the soft light casting gentle shadows across Steve's face. Everything was calm, peaceful.
But then, there was a slight movement.
Steve's fingers twitched, just a fraction, as if testing their ability to move after so long. A moment later, his eyelids fluttered, a faint stir of life beneath them.
And seconds later, almost in slow motion, his eyes crept open…
A/N: 2712 words :)
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