[Third Person Pov]
Peter reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small, unassuming pen. "Here," he said, handing it over to Steve Rogers.
Steve took the pen and stared at it in confusion, turning it over in his fingers. "What is this for? You want me to sign something else?"
"What? No, my bad—I forgot to explain what it does," Peter said with a light laugh. He held the pen up to his own masked face and pressed a button. Instantly, a holographic projection of a random, ordinary face settled over his mask, completely altering his appearance.
"Woah!" Steve exclaimed in surprise, taking a step back. His eyes widened with genuine marvel at the sight before him.
He subconsciously reached out and touched Peter's new face, his fingers gently examining the holographic projection. It glitched for a brief second, revealing small patches of the mask underneath before smoothly correcting itself. Steve pulled his hand back and rubbed his fingertips together, still processing the sensation.
"I really am in the future…" he muttered in quiet awe.
Peter chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, Cap, but that's mostly just me. The rest of the world still doesn't have access to this level of technology yet."
"I see. And in that case, I take it you're the one who made this," Steve said. He held the pen up, turning it over carefully in his hand as he examined its sleek design from every angle.
Steve brought it closer to his face. "Okay, how do I use this?"
"You gotta press the button over here," Peter instructed patiently.
"Over here?"
"No, you just switched it off. This button right here."
"It's not working."
"That's because you forgot to switch it back on after turning it off."
"I clicked it but it's not turning on."
"That's because you're supposed to hold it. You click it to turn it off and hold it to turn it back on."
"Seems a bit convoluted, don't you think?" Steve remarked with a raised eyebrow, though there was clear amusement in his voice.
He then held the pen up to his own face and activated it properly. A holographic projection settled smoothly over his features, transforming his recognizable appearance into that of an everyday man. Steve immediately turned toward Peter. "Did it work?"
"See for yourself," Peter said, motioning toward the reflective surfaces of the parked cars nearby.
Steve leaned over and began examining his new features in the car windows, tilting his head from side to side. "Not bad. I can't even tell it's me."
"As they say, the pen really is mightier than the sword," Steve added, looking down at the small device in wonder, still hardly able to believe such advanced technology existed in something so simple.
"You can keep it if you want," Peter chuckled, clearly entertained by how mystified Steve was with the pen.
"Seriously? I don't know if I should. This seems really expensive," Steve replied, holding the pen carefully as if afraid he might break it.
"It's fine," Peter said, waving him off casually. "You were right about me being the one who made it. I have spares lying around, don't worry. I'm sure you can find some good use for it when you want to go out without being recognized."
"I see. Thank you," Steve said with sincere appreciation. He slipped the pen into his shirt pocket and patted it lightly, a faint grin spreading across his face. He was clearly pleased with the thoughtful gift.
"Now come on, it's time we enjoyed ourselves on our date," Peter said with a grin, slinging an arm over Steve's shoulders and pointing toward the museum ahead.
"On our what, sorry?" Steve asked, staring at Peter in confusion. A look of amusement crossed his face as he let Peter guide him along. "I'm flattered, really, but you aren't exactly the type I normally go for."
Peter laughed warmly, happy that he and Steve were already becoming comfortable friends. The lighthearted banter helped ease the weight of their earlier serious conversation as they headed toward the museum.
…
Throughout their journey through the museum, particularly in the section dedicated to Captain America and the war, Steve remained unusually quiet. He took everything in with a measured, almost solemn focus, moving slowly from one display to the next.
There were old photographs, engraved names, and thoughtful memorials honoring the men—good, honest men—he had fought beside. To Steve, it had all happened not so long ago, a matter of mere days or weeks in his own mind. Yet here they stood, immortalized as history within glass cases and on polished plaques. They had become part of a story from the past, a past he no longer fully belonged to. It was a past that had moved on without him, one he should have lived long enough to grow old alongside, sharing stories and laughter in their twilight years, but never did.
"Got any good stories to tell that we don't see here?" Peter asked softly, his voice sympathetic and gentle.
Steve gained a small grin, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "As a matter of fact, I do…" he said before he began to share.
Peter listened patiently, absorbing every word as Cap reminisced about the war and the strange, wild adventures he had experienced. Most of the tales centered around the Howling Commandos—their small, funny mishaps during downtime, the ridiculous bets they made, and their most grueling, hard-fought moments in the field. Steve's voice carried a mix of fondness and nostalgia as he spoke.
Peter stared at the exhibit featuring the Howling Commandos, smiling lightly to himself as he clearly recognized a familiar face with strong sideburns.
Steve grew silent again as he stood before the statues commemorating the team. His eyes lingered especially long on Bucky, everything else in the room subconsciously fading into the background. The weight of memory pressed heavily on him.
Peter noticed Steve's distant expression, the way his eyes had misted over faintly. He looked back toward the statue and spoke up. "You know, I'm someone who strongly believes in fate. Not in the manner that we're slaves to it, but rather that everything happens for a reason."
"Are you saying you believe there's a reason I survived that plane crash and remained frozen until now?" Steve asked, not taking his eyes off the statues.
"Don't you?" Peter replied, standing with his arms crossed casually. "I'm not saying you should forget about the past and what was lost, but rather…" He stopped for a moment, a thought crossing his mind that made him start to giggle like a child.
Steve turned and finally looked at Peter in confusion. Peter faced him directly. "A wise turtle once said, 'Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present.'"
Steve paused, his eyes widening briefly as he was taken aback. He blinked a few times, muttering, "That indeed is a smart and wise turtle…"
Peter started patting Steve's back reassuringly. "Don't forget about the past. The past is what made you who you are—we would be nothing without it. But don't forget that you are now living in the present and are constantly moving forward toward a different tomorrow."
"You make it sound easy…" Steve replied quietly, his voice carrying the heaviness of his thoughts.
"I know it won't be. But nothing worthwhile is without any effort," Peter said with a charismatic grin, winking at him in reassurance. "Oh, and once you're ready to leave, be sure to tell me. There's one more place I want to take you to."
"Where to?" Steve asked, his curiosity mildly piqued.
Peter pressed a finger to his lips with a playful smile. "You'll see when we get there, but trust me—you won't regret it for even a second."
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