Best Friends
In which Captain America and his sidekick take refuge in the Avenger's Tower after escaping the crumbling ruins of the Triskelion Tower in Washington, D.C.
April 4th. A date forever engraved in the minds of the citizens of Washington, D.C. The disbelief and ensuing chaos of seeing three giant helicarriers bomb each other to smithereens and fall into the Potomac along with the Triskelion resonated deeply within all residents of the capital city of the United States.
In New York, feelings were slightly more superficial. For a city that had witnessed an alien invasion coming out of a purple wormhole and lay waste to Manhattan,the events in Washington seemed slightly subpar. All in all, life for the people in New York went on as usual as the people in Washington were still reeling in shock.
A couple days later, across the street from the main entrance gate to the Tower, A New York city bus came to a squealing halt at the designated bus stop. Two men got off the bus - both wearing sunglasses, baseball caps and hooded jackets.
The bus driver slammed on the gas pedal and swerved back into the traffic with no regards to the cars driving behind him. Two of the cars honked angrily, but the noise was lost in the ever-present droning sounds of New York traffic.
The two men stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the arching glass of the bus shelter, hands in their pocket as they tried to look casual. The man on the right was a tall, white male with an impressive muscle build that showed despite his jacket. The second was slightly smaller, dark-skinned, with a neatly trimmed beard framing his handsome face,
"I didn't see anybody following us."
"I haven't seen anything suspicious either. Can we just walk up and be let in?"
"Better than trying to sneak in the side. The Tower isn't affiliated with SHIELD, so I should still have access."
"Well there's use further standing here and looking like a couple stalkers. Let's go."
They crossed the street and walked up to the entrance; an iris scan of the tall blond opened up the gate without a fuss and soon they were exiting the elevator onto the floor that belonged to Captain America.
"So this is your Avenger's hangout. Damn, Cap. How come you haven't invited me here before?"
"Well I did just recently meet you," Steve Rogers pointed out, opening the door that led into a neat, 40s-style salon. "And the last few days have been slightly chaotic, so I apologize.
"Given the circumstances, I'll be generous and forgive you," replied Sam Wilson with a grin. "I feel like a just stepped into a time capsule. Do you even have electricity here?"
"Funny. Even better though." Steve grabbed a remote that seemed slightly out of a place on a low wooden table and pressed a button. One of the paintings on the wall - a black and white illustration of the skyline of New York back in the 1940s - slid up into the wall to reveal a 75" flatscreen TV. One of the small square tables beside an overstuffed armchair was revealed to be a fridge in disguise. Steve handed a beer to Sam.
"Cheers."
Sam took the beer with one eyebrow raised. "Cheers indeed."
Both men sank into an armchair and silence fell over the room. When it got too oppressive, Steve walked over to a corner with his record collection and selected one with some quiet background jazz music. The uplifting notes of the saxophone took away a bit of the heaviness inside their hearts. Both of their worlds had just been turned upside down in the last week, and they still weren't sure if it was truly over yet.
For Steve Rogers - better known as Captain America to the outside world - the realization that not only was Hydra still alive and active, but the fact that he may have been working for them through the disguise of SHIELD, affected him deeply. It affected him more than waking up into an unknown world with all those he had known long dead. More than trying to fight an army of aliens with a ragtag bunch of people he had just met and didn't really get along with. This, this was changing his entire viewpoint on Hydra and SHIELD, on his role as Captain America. This was a life-changing moment comparable to the day he had received the serum that had made him Captain America. Now he was beginning to question who he truly was and what he stood for.
Not to mention the fact that Bucky, his long-time best friend Bucky, who he thought dead since WWII was actually alive. And also not to mention that he was sitting across from a guy who had recently been a complete stranger and whom he know trusted like he had never trusted anyone since Bucky.
Sam Wilson wasn't going through quite the same life crisis, but he was still trying to figure out how he had gone from a semi-stable life as a veteran recovering from PTSD and helping others work through the same issues, to running around (more like trying to keep up with) a man mildly faster than him. And which included the following, though not limited to, not in the least stable activities:
kidnapping and threatening a high-ranking SHIELD officer
providing refuge to two wanted fugitives
stealing the last EXO-17 Falcon suit from a highly protected military base
trying to take down three helicarriers and hold of an army of brainwashed, murderous maniacs
flying in his suit again (which was admittedly awesome and he kicked some serious ass while looking super cool)
and now dropping his job and taking off with one of said fugitives, who was sort of a hero again but still wanted by the government. to go off on a wild goose chase after a man who had tried to kill them.
"Shit man, this is bad," Sam muttered to himself.
"What?" Steve looked up from contemplating his perfectly manicured fingernails.
Sam shrugged. "Did you know that that day you crashed on my doorstep I had woken up thinking it would be a perfectly normal day. And then you two bedraggled fugitives showed up on my doorstep and now I'm in New York as a fugitive myself."
"Well I wouldn't quite go that far . . ." Steve tried to argue, but stopped when Sam raised an eyebrow. "But I am really sorry I dragged you into all of this."
"Actually I sorta volunteered."
"True, but I'm still sorry about the mess everything turned out to be."
"Nothing we're not used to," the one soldier replied to the other.
After a few minuted of quietly sipping their beers, Steve turned on the TV and flipped to the CTV News channel. On screen appeared a round table at which were seated some of the highest ranking military officers as well as representatives from numerous federal agencies and the Senate. The camera zoomed in on a familiar redhead, chin raised proudly and eyes flashing defiantly.
"Now her I truly do feel sorry for," said Sam, waving his beer in Natasha's general direction.
"She owed me. Several times actually," Steve replied with a grimace of half-relief, half-remorse. "Said she'd stay in Washington and handle the press and politicians looking for someone to blame."
"Tough girl. I think those cameras would scare me more than the helicarriers."
"Yeah she's got guts," Steve agreed.
The camera flashed back to Natasha who was saying her last words to the group of unimpressed looking men, completely helpless in face of her strong presence.
"You're not going to arrest me. You're not going to arrest any of them. Do you know why? Because you need us."
"Are you sure we won't be facing any repercussions?" Sam asked with a tinge of worry. "I mean you're Captain America. Of course they're not going to arrest you. But I'm just a random black guy who happed to help take down a federal agency."
"You're not just a random guy Sam. You're the Falcon, and you're my friend."
At Steve's words, Sam felt the same hope and reassurance that he had noticed the day he had first met Captain America. It was hard to identify what exactly drew him towards this man, but he knew that he would never regret the decision to follow him, no matter the unpleasant consequences that may follow. For the first time in a really long time, he felt like he had a purpose in life again.
"Are you hungry? I'm not a great cook but I've mastered the grill-cheesed sandwich," Steve suddenly spoke up.
They walked into the kitchen, and Sam looked around with a soft "uh-uh" as he took in the very hideous, in his opinion, wallpaper.
Steve noticed his reaction and his lips quirked into a smile. "It's not for everybody, I know. But it reminds me of my mom's kitchen.
"Hey man, I'm not judging. I know how important it is to come home to something that actually feels like home."
"Bucky and I used to cook together," Steve mused softly, still reminiscing. He heated up a frying pan as Sam scrounged the fridge for the cheese and some bacon.
"His mom was often at work after school, and my mom . . . well anyway, we'd often cook supper together, if there was food. Most of the time it was beans. Boiled beans, cooked beans, fried beans - we tried to cook them every imaginable way to try and make them more edible."
Tearing open the pack of bacon, Sam threw it all into the frying pan, jumpin gback as it began to sizzle wildly. "Somehow I can't put the picture of your friend Bucky together with that metal-armed psycho Hydro assassin."
"He's still in there," Steve countered for the umpteenth time. "He saved me from the river."
"And then disappeared, making us begin the greatest manhunt of this century."
"You did volunteer." Steve gently laid pieces of bread into the bacon grease.
Sam raised his hands in defense. "I know man, I know. I'm just saying this whole thing should be carefully thought out before we get ourselves recklessly killed in the process."
Once more, Steve was overwhelmed by Sam's loyalty and generosity, and the level of blind trust he showed. He didn't even try to convince Sam not to come along, knowing exactly why he was willing to give everything to this crazy mission that even Steve himself know was not highly likely to succeed. Sam had lost his best friend, Riley, in the middle of a firefight, and would've given anything to have him back. He understood exactly what Steve was going through, having Buck suddenly reappear in his life, and understood better than anyone why Steve was willing to risk everything to get him back. A best friend was a best friend, no arguments.
Several sandwiches and even more beers later, there was a ring and a loud knock at the door, immediately followed by the door opening.
"Since it's my place, I really don't need to knock, right? So what's all this kerfuffle happing down in DC, Spangles?" With a barrage of words, Tony Stark burst into the kitchen. "Wait, who's this guy? Who are you? You better not be Hydra or - "
"He's good Tony, he's with me." Steve stood up to stand between the very expensively dressed and indignant-looking millionaire standing in the entrance of the kitchen, and the casually dressed, ex-military man sitting in disguised alert at the kitchen table. "Tony, this is Sam. Sam, Tony."
"Hey."
"Hi." Tony threw a quick look at the visitor before turning back to Steve. "So do you want to tell me what the hell happened?"
The blond sighed and returned to his seat at the table. "SHIELD isn't what we thought it was Tony. It had been taken over by Hydra who had gradually become more and more powerful."
"Alexander Pierce was their head," Sam added, through a mouthful of grilled cheese.
"Well they must have done a damn good job because I didn't know anything about all of this. And Jarvis had thoroughly searched their entire file library accessible through the helicarrier."
"Spied and infiltrated," said Steve.
"Whatever. Same thing, we've already gone over this." Tony grabbed one of the grilled-cheese sandwiches from the table and bit into it. "So SHIELD is gone and Mr. Eyepatch is dead, right? This is actually really good, the bacon is just the right degree of crispiness. Well what? Why are you exchanging secret looks as if I don't know something. Do I not know something?"
Steve looked at Sam who just shrugged. "Fury's not dead, Tony."
"No kidding! Headmaster Spy engineers his own death to trick everybody. That's original. So where is he?"
"He went off the Europe I think. Wants to track down some other ex-SHIELD personnel that are actually Hydra. He's a ghost now though, and prefers to stay that way."
"Whatever floats his boat. What about the Avengers now though? With no SHIELD, we've basically become a private organization. What do you think about a name change: Tony Stark's Avengers?"
Sam choked on his beer. "Is he always this pretentious?" he asked Steve.
Steve nodded. "Basically, calls it a part of his character charm." He turned back to Tony who was looking rather indignant. "I think the Avengers just became even more important. We need to stay independent, and if anything happens, we'lll be ready to respond, just like we've been doing up till now."
"Except that we normally got word of something fishy from SHIELD."
"We have Clint and Natasha. They've got ears and eyes everywhere and can notify us if they catch word of anything. And I heard Maria Hill is looking for a new job. Told me she'd submit a resume to Stark Industries."
"Maria I'm-too-serious-to-know-how-to-laugh Hill?"
"Besides Fury she knows more than anybody," Steve defended her. "And she's not Hydra, something that's become a bit rare of late."
"I'll take that as a reference. No promises though. Speaking of Natasha, where is she now? I'll have to thank her for dumping all that juicy stuff on the web. J is still sorting through it now."
"Did you see the press conference?"
"Hard to miss, it's been replayed in every news segment for the past few days."
"We saw her shortly after. Said she's going to lay low for a bit. But she'll be back."
"Clint?"
Steve shook his head. "I don't know. He might've been on mission. Natasha would've gotten through to him. He'll be around too."
"That's a lot of unknown variables," Tony frowned.
"Just give it time till everything settles down a bit," Sam threw in.
Tony nodded, looking from one man to the other. "And you two?"
Steve briefly gave him a recap of the past few days, ending with the fight on the helicarrier but glossing over the Winter Soldier's identity. Sam continued with an account of how they had found Steve's body at the side of the river and took him to a small-town hospital outside of Washington. Natasha and Fury had returned to the capital in the helicopter while he had stayed behind with Steve. The super soldier had recovered quickly, and they headed back to Washington in disguise. After the quick meeting at the cemetery, they were on the first bus to New York.
"And now?" Tony asked.
Steve hesitated before replying. He just wasn't quite ready to reveal everything about the Winter Soldier. An image of the newspaper article that Zola had shown him in the bunker flashed before his eyes. No, it was better that Stark wasn't told that particular information yet. Not just for his protection, but also for Bucky's.
"We're going to hunt down a few of the Hydra guys as well," he finally said nonchalantly. "Sam's going to be helping me out with that."
"Sam, right. Is he going to be living here as well?"
"I've got a guest room," Steve sprung in, before Sam could give a snappy reply. "He can sleep here on my floor when he's around, but access to the Tower would be great."
"That's something I could do. What else are you called, Sam the Sidekick?"
"The hell I'm somebody's sidekick!" Sam burst out. "It's Sam Wilson. Or the Falcon."
"Oh you're the bird guy!"
"Falcon."
"You still got your wings?"
A shadow flickered across Sam's face. "I still got the suit but no wings. I'm grounded."
Tony slapped him across the back. "Let me take a look at it, Flyboy, and I'll tell you if you're grounded or not."
"Thanks Tony," Steve interrupted again. He wasn't sure if Sam was about to hug the genius for his offer or punch him in the face for all the nicknames. Another character charm that one needed to get used to. "That'd be great."
"Don't mention it." Tony looked at his watch. "Well I'll leave you to it, I had a very important meeting an hour ago that I shouldn't be late for." He strode out the door.
"You've got real interesting friends, Cap."
Steve smiled. "He takes some getting used to, but Tony's a good guy. We've all got our problems and face them differently."
"Well I shouldn't be surprised. I mean you do tend to just pick up your friends off the street."
They both chuckled.
"Thank you, by the way," Sam continued. "For letting me stay here and everything. And if Stark does manage to give me back my wings, I'll owe you big time."
Steve shook his head. "Never. I could never repay your help for what we're about to get started on."
"You don't have to. Friends don't collect debts."
A genuine smile lit up Steve's face, mirrored by Sam's broad grin. They opened another beer bottle each and raised them in a salute. "To friendship."
"Cheers to that."
"Cheers indeed."
A/N: Just rewatched Winter Soldier and got inspired for a few story ideas. And I was so excited to bring Sam into this story, because he's one of my favourite characters by far. So I'm also going to take this time and shamelessly promote another one of my fics: Journal of Sam Wilson. Check it out!