Chapter 2

"Captain!" Sam Wilson yelled, shouldering his mechanical wings. "I'm going to do a quick sweep!"

"Go ahead," was Steve's dejected response. When Wilson was honest with himself, he knew he just wanted to have some alone time for a while. He'd spent the last five months of his life helping out the most famous soldier in history, which in itself was his greatest achievement in his mind, but lately with the Captain feeling down Sam just wanted to breathe.

Opening the door, Sam stepped outside, stretching in the early morning light.

"Nothing like the rainforest to make you wish you had a force field," he sighed, feeling the familiar cloud of bugs begin to descent on him. Luckily, Sam had a defense against the evil insects. "Later, bugs," Sam scoffed, activating his wings. They shot out of the metal pack on his back and the small but powerful propulsion jets launched Sam into the air. A smile covered Sam's face as he flew into the air, leaving the hated bugs far behind.

As usual, the exhilaration of flying quickly took hold of the para-rescue man as he let out a whoop of excitement, executing a series of loops and spins that would leave any other inexperienced flyers in the dust. There was no doubt: Falcon was the greatest flyer in the history of the military. However, Falcon quickly dismissed that thought, thinking of his wingman. He wasn't that great. He was still human, not some mystical being that could do anything.

"Come in, Falcon," a voice said, coming in through Falcon's comm link in his ear, a device that Falcon never went without. His smile grew at the voice.

"Black Widow," He grunted, doing a barrel roll and skimming the canopy. "Long time no . . . hear."

"I suppose. This isn't a friendly call, you know."

"I know. We still haven't found him." A sigh was audible over the frequency.

"The director is getting anxious. The longer that man is out there-"

"What?" Falcon interrupted, flipping so that he was flying upside-down, his red goggles protecting his eyes from the brightness of the sun. "The more dangerous he gets?"

"You know that's not what I meant. He's unstable."

"I've handled plenty of unstable people, ma'am. I don't think- whoa!" A knife whistled by, just a hair away from Falcon's face.

"Falcon? What was that?"

"A knife," the soldier growled. He tried to identify the source and nearly fell out of the sky when he saw a familiar man crouching in the tops of the trees. "I'm going to have to get back to you, Widow."

"Falcon! Don't you dare do what I-!"

Dully, Sam shut off his comm link. He got the feeling this guy wouldn't want anyone else knowing about their conversation.

"It's you," he eventually said, hovering a few meters away from the man who had caused countless innocents unbearable pain. The Winter Soldier only stared back, not saying anything. His metal arm sparkled in the sunlight, as the man was making no attempt to hide. Sam found a stable enough branch and landed, retracting his wings. After a few minutes of silence, Sam eventually got impatient. "Well? You got anything to say?"

The memory of the man in front of him ripping off Sam's wings and kicking him off the side of the helicarrier flashed through Falcon's mind, but he pushed it aside. Cap had been adamant about how Bucky never really would've done that, and that the whole thing was HYDRA's fault.

Still, the man in front of Sam said nothing. Sam sighed, running a hand over his head, rubbing his short black hair. It was even shorter than military standard, something Sam liked just fine. Instinctively, Falcon slapped at a mosquito that had landed on his skin, leaving a bloody smear on his black skin. Annoyed, Sam rubbed it off, wishing he'd worn a thin layer to protect himself from the pests.

"Why does Steve never have this problem?" He asked himself. It was like the serum he'd been injected with repelled bugs, something that Falcon was insanely jealous of. The mosquitoes were eating him alive while Steve was perfectly fine!

"That's his name."

"What?" Sam looked up, seeing the Winter Soldier staring at him. Falcon couldn't help but wonder why the guy across from him didn't cut his dark brown hair. It was only a few centimeters from his shoulders, for crying out loud. Did the guy have any respect for his own appearance? A real man didn't forget himself like the Winter Soldier had!

"That's his name," the Winter Soldier repeated, eyes vacant and fists clenched. "Steve."

"Uh, yeah," Falcon said uncertainly. "Steve Rogers." What was this guy getting at? The Widow's words echoed in Falcon's mind: He's unstable.

The Winter Soldier seemed to abruptly snap back to himself. "Steve Rogers. Captain America."

" . . . Right," Sam acknowledged slowly, getting his guard up.

"I . . . " The guy seemed to be about to say something, but he suddenly fell to his knees, clutching his head. Frankly, Sam was amazed that he didn't fall to the jungle floor.

"Hey! Dude, you okay?" The Winter Soldier gave no response, only continuing to hold his head and repeat something under his breath too quietly for Falcon to make out. With one wing-assisted jump, Sam was crouched over the Winter Soldier, hardly believing what he was doing. Helping the Winter Soldier was something he wouldn't have dreamed was possible five months ago, but here he was.

Abruptly, the Winter Soldier stopped trembling. All Sam heard was the man's heavy breathing. A split second later, before Sam could even react, the old friend of Captain America lashed out, catching Falcon with a punch from his metal arm that sent the soldier flying through the air and crashing through the canopy, heading straight for the forest floor. At the last second, Falcon's wings deployed and with expert flying skill Sam managed to maneuver himself back up above the trees, clutching his stomach.

"I'm gonna throw up," he coughed, "right after I kick this guy into next week!"

However, as Sam looked around, he realized that the Winter soldier was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had never been there. The only proof Sam had was the pain emanating from his stomach.

"Knowing my luck," the tired man sighed, "I'm going to have a fist-shaped bruise tomorrow." Only then did he remember that he'd hung up on Black Widow. "Oh . . . damn. She's going to kill me."

With that thought in mind, Falcon quickly flew back towards the cabin. Steve would want to know what had happened. Maybe, just maybe, the news would get the Captain out of whatever funk he had pulled himself into.

Anyone want to review? I want to know if I'm presenting the characters the way you want them to be presented, and if what they do makes sense!

-RoR