With Each Passing Day
I've been on a Marvel binge lately.
Few words are exchanged, but he still feels the tension in the air every time the Captain leaves the room.
From the outside looking in it looks like young adults training with military precision. There are weapons handled and there are strategies devised. He found himself liking many of the new recruits, even the crazy Witch girl. Yes, Sam enjoyed the camaraderie he shared with these new kids.
He spends the day leading the recruits through a series of drills. He has no idea who put him in charge but clearly Steve thought he was capable of leading a group of kids through basic training. Most days are fairly simple: wake up, drill, spare, strategize. The days that Steve and Natasha take over are more ominous. Yet they go back to their normal schedule soon after and Sam is the one yelling at the recruits to pick up the pace (but not Wanda Maximoff. Sam prefers his life over her mile time).
But there is something off. Like something is about to happen and they're all pretending it won't happen. Call him crazy, but Sam is certain the little man (what's his name again?... Ant-something?) didn't show up to their training facility on a whim. He's done his research, seen the news coverage regarding Pym technologies.
He hated that little fella for whooping his ass. Sam was pretty sure Natasha had told Steve about their er, encounter already. God dammit…
Oh yeah. Ant-Man. Sam smirked to himself as he padded across the facility's spotless floor. What a dumbass name.
"Hey Sam."
"Sup Wilson."
Sam greets the new kids on their way out of the café. They really aren't that bad. But it's the same routine every day and he knows something bigger is coming. They walk by each other and exchange greetings. Sometimes they chat for a bit. Then they train. And they train and they train and they train. But no one says anything. And no one questions Steve when he locks himself in his office for days at a time.
There's a war coming, Sam thinks. It's just a matter of when.
WHOA THERE. Super short. Super rusty. Super out of practice with this creativity shenanigans. OOF. But it's a start.
