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I. Rhodes
Senator James Rhodes sat at his desk and rubbed at his temples as a headache built up behind his eyes. This campaign had really taken it out of him – but with the primaries just over, the hardest part of the race was still to come.
After his early retirement from the Air Force thanks to an honorable discharge for severe injuries incurred in the line of duty, Rhodey had decided to go into politics. He had double majored in Aerospace Engineering and Political Science at MIT, after all. Of course, he’d never expected to be in the presidential race just a few short years after his successful senate run. Apparently the campaign ‘boost’ republican candidates sometimes got from a military background sometimes boosted democratic votes too.
Well, and the Avengers publicity couldn’t hurt.
Nearly everyone but Rhodey had left the office early today to celebrate their victory in the primaries. Through the early afternoon, Rhodey watched the minutes tick by on his desk clock before realizing his paperwork was in no way getting done, and sitting at his desk after most of his team had gone home wasn’t accomplishing much of anything. He decided to go catch up on sleep while he still could, and marvel over the group of people who had come together to help make his campaign happen.
Natasha Romanov. Thanks to the infinitely surprising pep-talks of Nick Fury, Natasha had somehow become Rhodey’s media supervisor and press wrangler; she was clearly doing an excellent job of it if the primaries were any indication.
Pepper Potts. Leaving Stark Industries in Maria Hill’s capable hands, Pepper had built his team from the ground up and become the ultimate campaign manager.
For Rhodey, the most valuable thing about his team was how trusting his managers so implicitly let him release his worries about his public image so that he could focus solely on composing his political plans. Nat and Pepper could take his complex plans – for a government working with superheroes instead of a government afraid of them, and for a new American dream of security balanced with progression, equality, freedom, and change – and make the American public see what Rhodey was really trying to accomplish.
And it even seemed like the American public liked what they saw.
Rhodey shook himself out of his reverie. He knew thing where getting bad when his own thoughts began to sound like his pretentious, old Political Ethics papers from freshman year. Time to head home.
Passing through the break room on his way to the main door, Rhodey glanced up at the TV playing in the campaign headquarters lounge. A couple intense stories about the Gaza strip, a news item about an entertainment company merge: the usual mix of painful and prosaic.
And then a familiar face appeared on the screen. Justin Hammer, in an ill-fitting suit, was standing in a concrete-walled room that looked like something one would find in a prison. It probably was a prison, Rhodey figured. Hammer had another few years on his sentence after that stunt he pulled at the Stark Expo with the war drones.
But at this moment Hammer wasn't talking about his company or his drones. He was talking about Rhodey.
“Senator Rhodes is responsible for the death of an innocent member of our own United States Air Force. Airman Riley Delgado, who was tragically killed due to an equipment malfunction last year, would be alive today if Senator Rhodes had not modified the equipment which, as a result, failed to perform as intended.”
Rhodey stared at the screen, horrified. He had worked closely with Riley and his wingman Sam for several years. Of course he knew about the crash that had killed Riley. Of course he’d approved Tony’s wing designs and some superficial changes to make them fit Air Force regulations. He had never thought the two were connected.
By all reports, Delgado’s wings had functioned perfectly fine up until the moment of impact.
But Hammer’s report had a different story to tell. Hammer continued talking, expounding on about how, instead of making only the routine Air Force regulation adjustments, James Rhodes had added dangerous and untested trial equipment to Riley Delgado’s wing apparatus. Rhodey watched on in shock and dismay.
By the next morning, Rhodey had made up his mind about the first thing he had to do – he had to go talk to the Delgado family himself. If they somehow hadn’t caught the news yet, he would be the one to inform them, and even if they had already heard, he needed to say something. Find some way to apologize.
And after that, he’d find Sam. Rhodey shuddered to think about showing up at the door of the old brownstone Sam was sharing with Natasha, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes. Talking to his friends and colleagues was going to be much harder than talking to Riley’s family – which was difficult enough.
Ignoring frantic calls from Natasha and Pepper about the newscast, Rhodey pulled down his dress uniform from the back of his closet. He pulled the slacks on over his prosthetic leg and struggled briefly with arranging his dress shoes to his liking.
Rhodey was smoothing down the lapels of his dress uniform top, and straightening his tie, when the doorbell rang.
On the doorstep, Sam Wilson was waiting, wearing a similar dress uniform. He said, tersely but with no anger, “Don’t tell me you’re not going to go see Riley’s wife and kids, and don’t tell me I can’t come. I knew as soon as I saw the newscast – it’ll help to have me there, I promise.”
Rhodey thought back to how close Sam and Riley were when he had worked with them together, and how they seemed to effortlessly know everything about each other’s lives. Riley would talk about Sam’s old boyfriends from college – all of them art students, because Sam had a type. Sam would talk about how Riley met his wife at a church charity auction – Riley had been the auctioned item, and Camilla the highest bidder. The two wingmen had been closer than brothers.
Rhodey sighed. Giving in, he motioned Sam toward the car.
II. Rhodes
Leaving the Delgado house, in a small suburb of Alexandria, Virginia, Rhodey’s back was ramrod straight, and his shoulders were stiff with tension. The conversation with Camilla Delgado had gone as well as could be expected, but Rhodey was taking it hard. He could see Sam glancing nervously at him as they walked back to the car.
When they had settled in their seats, and Rhodey was just about to start the ignition, Sam looked over, and said, "This isn't your fault, you know. She knows that. I know that."
Rhodey looked at him for a second, and then looked down at his hands – one on the steering wheel, one on the ignition. “You know I wouldn’t have put Riley at risk, right? You two were already pioneering dangerous tech. No way I would’ve made it even riskier.”
Sam nodded, but didn’t say anything. He seemed to sense that Rhodey had more to say.
Rhodey simply added, “Doesn’t mean this whole situation’s not my fault,” and immediately started the car, and like that, the conversation was over. Out of the corner of his eye, Rhodey could he Sam leaning back in his seat, a look of frustration on his face.
Rhodey tried to concentrate on the road and block out the past day, with little success.
The interior of the car was still chilly with awkward silence as they approached the bridge into DC. The back wheels of Rhodey’s car had only just reached the bridge when something huge and black rammed into the driver’s side of the car, sending it and both of its passengers careening over the guardrail and into the river.
Rhodey had barely a second before the cold water rushed up to meet him, and his last thought was regret – that by taking Sam with him this morning, he’d caused one more pointless death.
Then there was nothing.
III. Wilson
Sam had just managed to wrangle a dime store novel off one of the hospital orderlies and was settling in to entertain himself when Steve Rogers hurried through the door. The super-soldier looked like he'd be breathing heavily if he wasn't in possession of a superhuman metabolism.
"Sam!" Steve rushed toward the bed and then stopped, standing awkwardly as though he'd planned on flinging himself toward Sam. "Oh God, Sam," he whispered.
Sam looked up at him, the book propped against his chest – forgotten. Steve’s concern was really sweet actually. "You alright there, Steve?" he said.
Steve rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Yeah, yeah, sorry Sam. I just– Pepper called me, and she said you and Rhodes were in a car accident, and I got really worried... Are you alright? I mean, are you hurt?"
Smiling faintly, Sam said, "Nah, not too bad – couple cracked ribs and a cut or two. Rhodey got the worst of it, but he's doing fine too– I sent Pepper and Tony in his direction an hour or two ago, and Pepper brought me an update a few minutes back."
Steve looked only very slightly reassured. "You're going to be okay though, right?" he asked.
Sam nodded, grinning now. “What, hero-boy, were you afraid I was gonna die on you? It’d take a lot more than a clumsy assassination attempt to do that.”
“Assassination?! I thought it was a car accident!!” Steve’s voice was hushed but laced with panic.
“Hey there, I never said anything about accident!” Sam protested. “There was a car involved, though.”
Steve practically fell into the bedside chair. “Oh god,” he said, “Okay. What– what actually happened?”
Sam explained how the black truck had come out of nowhere and pushed Rhodey’s car off of the bridge and down into the riverbed. Sam had pulled Rhodey out and secured their position as gunshots pelted at them from the high ground of the riverbank.
Thankfully, the goons in the truck clearly hadn’t prepared for Sam to be fully conscious after the fall, because long before they ran out of bullets or thought to move down the riverbank toward Sam, the gunshots aroused attention, and a SWAT team came to take them down. It turned out to be quite an amatuer effort overall, Sam thought.
Steve sighed. “Alright. Well, thank god no one was k– hurt too bad. Sam– god, Sam.” Steve turned his head away and his breath was catching in his throat.
Sam was beginning to get concerned. “Steve, man, it’s going to be okay, okay? Seriously, I’m the one in the hospital bed, and you’re definitely the one looking the worse for wear – that’s backward, Steve.”
Turning back toward Sam, Steve said in a small voice, “I just don’t think I could lose you, Sam.”
That combination of trust and dangerously sad blue eyes, and Sam was gone. He gripped Steve’s hand more firmly, and turned it over so he could place a kiss on the inside of the super-soldier’s wrist.
When Sam looked up, Steve seemed shocked, and Sam began to worry he’d made a wrong move. But then Steve lifted his other hand to brush reverently along Sam’s jaw. Sam responded with a sunny smile and a tug on Steve’s arm that brought their faces mere inches apart.
Steve whispered “Sam,” his words puffing soft air against Sam’s lips.
Sam whispered back “Yes," and then their lips met and Sam’s hands were curling in Steve’s soft hair and everything was nearly perfect. Sam could feel Steve relaxing in his arms, and making quiet, beautiful, desperate noises against his mouth.
Then Sam heard a polite cough from the direction of the doorway. Steve had evidently heard it too, because he pulled immediately out of the kiss and straightened up.
Pepper stood near the door, hiding her smile with her hand. After a second she had composed herself, and said, “Hello Sam. And Steve – I heard you had arrived, so I came to make sure you knew Rhodey’s going to be just fine. He’s just down the hall if you’d like to visit him at any point.”
Pepper paused for a second. When no immediate answer seemed forthcoming and even Sam could see that Steve’s cheeks were blushing red, Pepper smiled again, and said, turning on her heel, “Good to see you’re doing well, Sam. I’ll leave you to your fun.”
And with that she was gone.
Sam looked up at Steve, and began laughing hysterically. Steve giggled, little peals of laughter, until he was forced to slump into the seat next to Sam’s bed again.
After the mix of joy and remaining panicked adrenaline seemed to have quieted some, Sam leaned over and clasped Steve’s hand in his. Steve looked up with a small shy smile.
Sharing that smile, Sam said, “Now I’m really excited to get out of this hospital.”
IV. Rhodes
Not long after Rhodey was released, he returned to the office. The first day back, he found himself cornered by Natasha, trailing Tony Stark behind her, and the two of them sat Rhodey down at his desk. Natasha proceeded to explain how the media was handling the events of the last few days.
“The good news,” Natasha explained in her usual stoic tone, “is that you’ve got the victim points absolutely nailed. Not only do you get sympathy for being on the wrong end of that pathetic attempt to kill you, but you also got yourself out of the hospital and right back into the office. I should be mad at you for losing me an opportunity to talk about how ridiculous it is for a presidential nominee to have to worry about an attempt on his life, but hey, the media’s decided you’re ‘humble,’ and ‘driven,’ and nothing can stop you from doing the right thing. This could not be better.”
“And the bad news?” Rhodey asked.
Natasha jumped right in again: “We still have a lot of work ahead of us. This event has buried the Hammer accusation story for now, but it’ll pop back up soon, and we need to address it before that happens.” Here, she shook Tony back and forth, saying, “Which is why I brought this guy.”
Tony smiled smugly.
Rhodey looked back at Natasha. “And?” he inquired.
Natasha suddenly grinned. “We’ve made a discovery. Tony’s here to introduce the person who found the truth.”
Rhodey was even more confused. “What ‘truth’? And why can’t I just meet this person directly? And what does Tony have to do with it?”
Tony smiled even more smugly until he caught Natasha’s glare and abruptly stopped. “Here, Rhodey, I got something to show you–” Tony started, reaching into his shoulder bag and pulling out his laptop, “–from an old friend of mine. Remember anything I told you about Afghanistan?”
Without waiting for an answer, Tony opened the laptop, and connected to a video message request. Immediately, the black screen brightened, showing a thin man sitting at a desk and peering eagerly into the camera. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and had a neat grey beard.
Seeing Rhodey, the man on the screen said, “Hello Senator - it is an honor to meet you."
Rhodey had barely responded to the pleasantry when the man in the video message continued: "My name is Ho Yinsen, and I know for a fact that Airman Riley Delgado’s wings were tampered with before the collision which resulted in his death. In fact, I think I know who may be responsible.”
Rhodey listened, enraptured, as a man he knew only from Tony’s stories – a man he believed to be dead – continued his tale.