AN: Sorry this one took so long, had a bit of writers block, and later recent events didn't exactly put me in the mood to work on it. I was actually going to just write a Dark Sun chapter, but figured it'd be better to just get this done instead. Seemed like there's been enough brooding and anger, so here's a more positive chapter.
The White House, Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington D.C, 13:00 PM, January 10th, 1964
Somehow, I always imagined it bigger. The movies always made it seem like a castle.
I know I've technically been here before, but I was only stopping by for a few second to toss the President and the First Lady on the front lawn for the Secret Service to find. This is the first time I've had a chance to actually look around. And I have to admit, it's... well, not disappointing exactly. I don't know, underwhelming, maybe? I grew up in the late 20th century, most of my pop culture influences were American one way or the other. I've seen the White House, and most of the other Washington landmarks, more times than I can remember in movies or tv shows, or comics, or any media you care to think of.
In person though? It seems oddly small. I mean, comparatively, it's still a mansion. Maybe that's the issue, I've spent the past few months living in an even bigger one, if I was still living in my old apartment, it'd probably feel a lot more impressive...
"You alright there, Sunshine?"
Steve's voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I turn my head to answer. He's wearing his military uniform, though without anything that could give away the identity of Steve Rogers, the honors decorating his chest only being the ones he earned as Captain America. He's wearing his cowl, which looks rather odd, the blue and white clashing with the fabric of the uniform, his shield strapped to his left arm. Knowing him, he's probably wearing the rest of his Captain America costume underneath.
"Oh, you know, just kind of weirded out by all of this. The only thing I've won in my entire life was a swim badge when I was a kid, so this is kind of a step up..." That's an understatement if I've ever made one, I've never done anything worth awarding before I got dropped here, much less anything that would involve this kind of public scrutiny, and standing on the White House lawn, alongside the friggin' Avengers, well... it's weird, even if I've been fighting alongside them for months already. And it's not like I haven't talked to the press before, but I feel oddly exposed out here. And these ridiculously expensive clothes Tony bought for me aren't helping. When you spend your whole life dressing like a slob, being forced into a suit makes you feel like you're cosplaying as an adult.
I'm almost curious if I look as ridiculous as I feel to everybody else, since I'm still wearing my usual sunglasses and flag mask, which must clash even worse than Steve and his cowl/uniform combo.
"Don't worry, I know it can be a bit overwhelming" Steve says as he watches me tug on my jacket to make it less uncomfortable "Going from some skinny nobody in Brooklyn to... well..." he gestures towards himself "...and suddenly being the face of the entire country? It's a hell of an adjustement. Just be grateful you aren't expected to give a speech or anything, I remember the first time I had to do that..." he suddenly gets a far-off look in his eyes, and I can't help but shudder in sympathy.
"Ugh, don't even joke about that, man. I'm nervous enough just having President Kennedy put a ribbon around my neck."
The rest of the team are gathering together on the grass a few feet away. Tony is wearing the same suit I saw him in when the tailor visited the mansion, the oversized outfit draped over his Iron Man armor. Hank and Janet are standing next to him, Hank in a white suit and tie, which I wasn't expecting, along with his Giant-Man mask, and Janet in a conservative jacket and skirt, though her clothes are dark grey, with her Wasp mask and her hair done up in a short bun to keep it out of her face.
Spider-Man is standing a little bit away from the others, but he's finally listened to our prodding and stopped trying to skulk around in the back of the group, which was a battle of it's own. Peter is so used to crawling around on the walls or crouching on rooftops whenever he's out in public that he tends to try and hide behind the rest of us when that's not an option, and really doesn't help with his public image. He's doing his best to stand up straight, the black suit he's wearing contrasting nicely with his mask and costume, which he's clearly wearing underneath, judging by the gloves. It doesn't quite hide how thin he is compared to the rest of us, but makes him look as athletic as he really is rather than making it obvious that he's not nearly as old as we are.
The Hulk shuffles, shooting an annoyed glare at the camera flashes coming from the crowd of reporters gathered behind the fence around the White House. Only a select few members of the press were invited to come anywhere close to the ceremony, and even they have to stand behind a line of Secret Service agents, with the others stuck outside with the public who's turned up to watch. Hulk's public image has gotten a bit better, especially after the meet and greet in the park, but most people are still a bit wary of him. A reporter with short, blonde hair freezes up when the Hulk glares at him, and he steps back a bit. Hulk just rolls his eyes and stomps over to the team. I'm surprised Tony didn't try to buy him a giant suit and tie as well, though getting him into one of those would have been a battle on it's own. Instead, he's wearing one of the black jumpsuits Tony had designed for him for missions, which covers his whole body aside from his arms and feet. He's also wearing a giant pair of boots, and I notice with some amusement that this particular jumpsuit has a white marking around the neck and down the chest added to it that makes it look like Hulk is wearing a tie.
Thor, surprisingly, turns out to be almost as much in his element here as Stark is, basking in the attention of the crowd. He's wearing his normal armor, but it's been polished until it shines, the flashes from the camera reflecting off the metal, and I also notice that his normal cape is missing, replaced with a more regal-looking one, red and silky with white fur trimming on the edges. Not exactly something you wear into battle. Mjolnir is hanging from his belt.
"No need to look so nervous, dear friends! This is a day of jubilation!" Thor exclaims, clapping Spider-Man on the shoulder, who almost loses his balance from the sudden force "As warriors, we accept the recognition of our deeds with gratitude! Why, if we were in my own beloved halls of Asgard, there'd be songs and tales of our battles, feasts with mead and women to celebrate our victories!" He finally seems to have noticed that he almost knocked Spider-Man off his feet and helps him straighten back up "Indeed, you my young friend, would be recognized and celebrated as the valiant warrior you are, the Valkyries would fight for your attention!"
"I, uh... I'll keep that in mind?" Peter finally stammers out, mortified. He's getting better dealing with the attention too, but he's got a long way to go, and Thor's particular ideas about proper celebrations aren't in the cards just yet.
Thankfully, Tony decides to take pity on the kid, and steers him away before Thor's tales of Asgard can get any more explicit "Sounds like a heck of a party Thor, but I'm afraid warrior feasts aren't really in vogue on Earth these days."
"Aye, 'tis a shame how the traditions of old have fallen by the wayside. Perhaps we could host one of our own, it's not how things are usually done, but these are modern times after all! What say you, friend Iron Man? A grand feast of mead, women and song?"
Tony pauses "You know, now that you mention it, I'm sure the mansion has more than enough room-"
"Seriously, Iron Man?" Janet whispers at him through gritted teeth. "You think now's the best time to talk about this?"
Tony glances around, then shrugs "You're right, putting a pin in this for now, but still, your idea has merit, Thor, I'll keep it in mind."
Hank rolls his eyes "If everyone can please focus for five minutes, it's about to start" he motions towards the front door of the house, where two agents in black suits and sunglasses are stepping through, before stopping and holding the door open. A small group is following them, led by a familiar figure. It's the first time I've gotten a good look at John F. Kennedy, I still don't really count our first meeting, he looks a bit different now that he hasn't been in a massive car wreck caused by a supervillain. The woman on his arm must be Jackie Kennedy, she's also looking a good deal better than she did when I pulled her out of the car back in November.
Following closely behind them is an older man I quickly recognize as Vice-President Johnson, and I can't help but feel a small twitch of guilt at the back of my mind. Unlike the presidential couple, Johnson didn't make it through Dallas unscathed, physically or otherwise. His injuries are mostly healed, but his right ear is still a mangled mess of scar tissue, his nose still shows signs of having been broken, and the young woman at his side isn't someone I recognize, but it obviously can't be his wife. Maybe his daughter? I'm pretty sure he had children.
The other two men in the group I don't recognize at all. One of them, walking right next to the President, does look a bit like him, maybe that's his brother? He's holding a long, thin case made of leather with both hands, which I'm guessing might be holding the medals. Next to him walks a middle-aged black man with hair that is beginning to grey at the temples, dressed in a military uniform decorated with a few medals and ribbons. There's a tag on his chest that reads "Jones", which... sort of rings a bell, but nothing comes to mind. Steve seems to recognize him however, judging by his expression, obvious even with his mask on.
President Kennedy is the first to reach us, and Steve quickly straightens up, giving him a salute. Kennedy just smiles."At ease, Captain. I think you of all people have earned a bit of informality with me."
"Sorry sir, old habits die hard." Steve turns his towards Jackie and shakes her hand "Madam First Lady, a pleasure as always."
She smiles "And a pleasure to see you again as well, Captain. Both me and John are happy to finally be able to give you the recognition you've deserved for so long."
"Speaking of which" Kennedy says, probably guessing that Steve would try to deny that he had ever earned any special recognition for his actions and cuts him off before he can say anything "I believe you're already familiar with the gentleman we invited for the occasion. Sergeant Jones?" The President steps to the side, letting the black man from earlier step up to Steve.
"You know, when Fury first told me that you were back, I almost thought that serum they pumped into him had worn off and he was finally starting to go senile. Can't tell you how happy I was to find out the old bastard was right again." he grins a wide smile and happily shakes Steve's hand, who returns it just as firmly.
"Gabriel Jones, as I live and breathe! Now there's a face I wasn't expecting to see here today! It's great to see you again, man! I can't believe they dragged you all the way out here just to put a medal on me!"
Gabriel Jones, NOW I recognize the name! He was one of Fury's men back during World War 2!
Jones just shrugs "Bah, any of the Commando's would've fought the war all over again just to do this, it's been a long time coming. Can't tell you how many times Fury and Dugan pushed to have you awarded the Medal of Honor post-humously since the war ended, but there always seemed to be something more important to do, you know? Maybe for the best, seeing as you were apparently just asleep the whole time!"
"Mr. Sunshine, I was hoping to have a word with you?"
I'm pulled away from Cap's impromptu reunion by Kennedy's voice, and I find myself face to face with a great man who was in his grave decades before I was even born. Now that neither of us are in mortal peril, I can take a moment and really appreciate how bizarre this situation truly is. President Kennedy looks mostly the same as I expected, but this isn't old newspaper photos or grainy film footage, this is the man himself, in the flesh, and already older than he ever lived to be in my own time.
"Mr President, it's an honor to meet you... I mean, under less pressing circumstances" I say, ignoring a sudden rush of nervousness inside me.
"Indeed, it's much to my regret that neither me nor my wife ever had the chance to thank you personally for your actions in Dallas. If you hadn't been there, who knows how things would have gone?"
I do, actually, and things didn't end well then either, even if the bodycount was lower "I appreciate the thought, Mr President, but I didn't really do that much. Captain America and the rest of the Avengers did most of the actual fighting, all I did was try to minimize the fatalities and... well, I could probably have done a better job at that..." I shoot a glance over to where Lyndon Johnson is standing, his injured arm in a sling and feel the twinge of guilt again. "Maybe if I'd been better at reacting, or seen that whole trainwreck coming, I could have... I don't know, stopped it?"
Steve's the only other person who knows, and he hasn't brought it up, but it is at least partially my fault that the situation in Dallas escalated as much as it did. If I hadn't talked him into providing security for President Kennedy, I doubt Zemo would have bothered attacking. Maybe if I'd just dealt with Oswald myself and told no one else about it, things wouldn't have gone the way they did. Or maybe something else would have gone wrong instead. I doubt I'll ever know.
"Don't get hung up on things you can't change, Mr. Sunshine." the President says, pulling me out of my thoughts again "Trust me, we all have things we regret in our pasts, but other than learning from our mistakes, there's nothing to be done about them. You answered the call when your country needed you, and that is all America can asks of it's citizens."
"Err... right, Mr. President. I'll keep that in mind."
I mean, I'm not a citizens OR an American, but he doesn't know that and I guess the lesson still applies.441