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Joaquin had flown into battle with nothing more than a pistol at his side. He had snuck behind enemy lines to get intel. He had spent weeks camouflaged in a jungle just on a dare. But even after all of that, he still felt as though he were in danger. Hell, he was in danger. All the time. He was frightened. He was horrified. And it was happening in his own home country.
Being in the Air Force meant that Joaquin had a duty to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, even if it meant putting himself in harms way. And he was always happy to do it if it were for the greater good of his country. He believed in what America stood for. A place where everyone was welcomed and could reach for their own ambitions. But slowly, things began to change, and Joaquin wasn’t even aware of it.
“It seems like we’re being invaded.”
“I know, all these foreigners coming in. What gives them the right to cross our borders?”
As Joaquin walked down the streets of his home town in New Mexico, it felt as though the streets had become…crueler. People scowled at him as we walked by. Whenever he spoke Spanish, it felt as though people were judging him. They muttered under their breath, “Why don’t you fucking speak English?”
But Joaquin was used to things like that. Growing up as an immigrant meant that you had to face the occasional bigot. But for some reason, the bigots seemed to be growing in numbers each day. At first, what seemed to be fringe talk, had become more and more mainstream with each passing month. Now, what seemed like stupid banter was becoming all out hate speech. When he spoke Spanish now in the grocery store, he got more than dirty looks. He got threats.
“You immigrants think you can just come into our country and not learn English?”
“Go back to where the fuck you came from.”
Joaquin was shocked. Hell, he had believed that that kind of talk was reserved for reddit threads and forums, not for going to the store to buy milk and eggs. But the Air Force had taught him restraint. Sure he could take those assholes down with one punch. Sure, he knew a variety of ways to dismember someone, but these weren’t terrorists in another land. These were Joaquin’s countrymen. Americans just like him.
Except, they didn’t see him as an American.
When Joaquin turned on the news that night, it was the same thing. Newscaster screaming at the top of their lungs about the new Captain American, Sam Wilson and his immigrant partner Joaquin Torres.
“These men desecrate the name of Captain America. A DEI hire like Sam Wilson wearing the American flag, even though he’s got no reason to. He’s got no Super Soldier Serum. He’s got not powers besides those flimsy wings. And worst of all? He’s no Steve Rogers. And he thinks he can put on that suit and lecture to the American people about who should be allowed to cross our borders?” And then there’s that sidekick of his.” The newscaster was some faceless dude that Joaquin already didn’t like. Who the fuck would talk about Sam Wilson that way? An asshole, that’s who.”
“Yeah, that new Falcon? I hear he’s some kind of an immigrant. Probably got smuggled into our borders like the rest of them, and now he’s standing shoulder to shoulder with Sam Wilson like some kind of participation trophy. These men do not represent America and it’s time we stopped acting like they.”
Joaquin took a deep breath. He had to calm down. But he couldn’t.
“Pretty soon, the new administration’ll get rid of all of these criminals who’re taking our resources. And then, it’ll be Bye Bye Birdie, ain’t that right guys?”
The other newscasters laughed. “Falcon’ll fly the coop, and then maybe Sam Wilson can get his Black job back from the immigrant who stole it.”
“Exactly, and America can have a real hero again. Someone who understands the direction this country needs to go in.”
Joaquin turned his television off. He couldn’t listen to this anymore.
As time went on, it was becoming more and more difficult to stay centered. There was so much in Joaquin’s mind that refused to rest. There were talks of denaturalizing immigrants. There were people making jokes, picking fights and just not giving a shit about who heard. The Air Force base seemed to be filled with shit talkers who didn’t even try to hide what they felt or thought.
“I can’t wait until they send all those Mexicans packing. They can’t even speak English right.”
“I know, I can’t wait for America to be great again. Do you think they can send Sam Wilson with them? I’d like to have a Captain America that actually likes America, rather than one who hates our values.”
And each time, Joaquin wanted to punch them in the face. But he knew he couldn’t. This wasn’t something that he could punch away, and it wasn’t something that he shoot. It was a sickening feeling that invaded his bones and carved out his veins. It was an invasion and he had no defense against it. He was helpless.
Every day there were jokes about rounding up immigrants. Mexicans, Hispanics, Haitians, and people who came to America to find safety and protection. People who might be rounded up and stuffed in cages. People who could disappear and never be seen again simply because they spoke broken English or didn’t have their passport on them. Innocent people who would find their world ripped apart again, simply because of where they were from.
This wasn’t the America Joaquin swore to protect. But this was the America he was living in now. And it was suffocating. All this degradation was suffocating.
“Joaquin?”
And all Joaquin could see were the people this would hurt the most. The old lady who went to the grocery store to buy milk for her hijo would be harmed. The Haitians that worked in the bakery and liked to give free cookies to kids would be harmed. The Muslim man who sold oranges out in the parking lot would be harmed.
“Joaquin? Dude, what’s wrong?”
The old soldier who lost his leg in Afghanistan, and came home only to find empty hostility would be harmed. The middle aged man who was still learning to read in English because he had to leave Venezuela to preserve the life of his family would be harmed. They would all be taken away and—
“Joaquin. Breath.”
And there in front of Joaquin, stood Sam Wilson. Captain America. The Sentinel of Liberty. “S-sam? Is that you? What’s going on?”
Joaquin was on the floor, in the hallway of his military base. What was going on? How did he get on the ground.
“Joaquin? Look at me,” Sam said. “You were having a panic attack.”
“A-a panic attack?” Joaquin asked. “That’s ridiculous. Sam, I’ve jumped out of planes in the middle of enemy fire. Why would I have a panic attack in the middle of a hallway?”
Sam took a deep breath and placed his hand on Joaquin’s shoulder. “Come on, we’re going to have a chat.” Gently, Sam pulled Joaquin to his feet.
“Sam, I-I’m fine.”
But Sam didn’t say another word. He only walked forward, and Joaquin followed. Joaquin would follow Sam into the pits of hell. No questions asked.
The Air base had set Sam up with his own office. The president had decided that he wanted Captain America to be a military ranking and insisted that Sam have a base of operations. Sam didn’t want an office, nor did he need one. So, instead he turned it into space for counseling. There were so many soldiers, families and kids who needed some kind of space to discuss how they were feeling and Sam was adamant that a space like that be provided. And if the President of the United States wasn’t going to do it, than Sam Wilson fucking would.
Was there any reason Joaquin loved this guy?
Sam led Joaquin into his office space. It was filled with calming blue tones and warm chairs to sit in. There were even posters of the Avengers adorning the walls. Apparently, the kids loved with see Captain Marvel on the walls. It was cute that Sam would even think of that.
“Take a seat Joaquin,” Sam said.
Joaquin didn’t argue. He sat down.
“Have you been eating?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. Three meals a day like always.”
Sam nodded his head. “That’s good. You need to keep your strength up. How’s work been? I know you’ve been on light duty these past weeks.”
Joaquin just shrugged his shoulders. Captain Smith thought he needed more time to rest from his last mission, so there hadn’t been much action for Joaquin lately. So, that meant no distraction from the fact that America seemed to be spiraling into…whatever the hell it was now.
“Joaquin?” Sam asked.
“W-what? What happened.”
“You were spacing out again.” Sam looked under his desk and pulled out a stress ball. “Try this real fast.” He tossed it to Joaquin.
“Sam, I’m not stressed out.”
“Just trust me, alright? “ Sam said. “Whenever you feel a little stressed or anxious, just give that ball a squeeze. It’ll help keep you present, deal?” Sam asked.
Joaquin nodded his head. And then he started to squeeze the ball. Over and over.
“Now, let’s just go over the facts, alright?” Sam asked. “You had a panic attack. And I know you, you’re a tough guy. Hell, you’re the toughest guy around. So, when I see that my partner is having a panic attack in the middle of one of the safest Air bases in the country, I get concerned. Now, I can’t make you tell me what’s wrong. All I can do is be here for you. And that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m going to be here for you, okay?”
Joaquin took a deep breath. He was talking to Captain America. He was talking to Sam Wilson. The same Sam Wilson who dove head first into danger, not to gain glory or fame, but to help others when they needed it. If he were brave enough to do that, than Joaquin could be brave enough to face his own fears.
“I just don’t know what this country is anymore,” Joaquin said.
And there it was, clear as day.
Sam leaned in. “Go on,” he prompted.
“I-I mean, all this bullshit I’m hearing about immigrants and how they’re ‘Poising the blood of our nation’ and how people are getting made because Haitians are coming in and looking for work. And people keep saying shit about you and how you’re some globalist who hates America and so many guys in the base are talking shit about immigrants. And it’s just everywhere right now and I can’t escape it.”
“Joaquin?” Sam said, his eyes gentle and kind. “Squeeze your stress ball. That’s it. Good. Now, take a breath.” Sam placed his hands on the table. “Yeah, I can see how something like that can be distressing. Especially for a guy like you. I mean, you’re an immigrant. Hell, all Americans are immigrants, right? We all came from somewhere else.”
“That’s right,” Joaquin said, “But now it seems like that’s a bad thing. Like all those people who come here looking for a better life are going to rounded up and put in cages or camps or whatever. That’s not the America I signed up to protect. I genuinely thought we were better than that.”
“I know buddy,” Sam said. “And I’m right there with you.”
“And the crap they say about you. It’s every day. Like, I can’t even turn on the radio without someone calling you a DEI hire.”
Sam laughed at that. “Can you do me a favor?” Sam asked.
“Anything.”
“Stop listening to the news. Just turn it off. Because I kept hearing the way they talked about you and I’ve had to personally go to the president and make a formal request. Luckily, it’s not as bad as it used to be, but I’ve had to stop listening to that crap all together,” Sam said. “It’s one thing for them to talk shit about me. But brining you into it was unacceptable.”
“You didn’t hav—”
“And before you say, ‘You didn’t have to do that Sam’, yes, the fuck I did. Period.” Sam leaned back in his chair. “And you’re right Joaquin. It feels like this country is moving backwards and it can be overwhelming. But we can’t focus on the things we can’t control. All we can do is focus on the things we can change. You can’t change how bigots react, but you can sure as hell protect the people who can’t protect themselves from it. I might not be able to stop the hatred that is spreading in this country, but I can sure as hell try to make sure the most vulnerable don’t have to face the shrapnel.”
Joaquin squeezed his stress ball and looked to the blue toned walls, the same color as the skies he and Sam fly through. Calm and cool and ready to embrace whatever comes to it. Had Sam done that on purpose?
“Look,” Sam said, “I’ve already gone into talks about what’s been going on and you’re not the only one who’s concerned. I’ve started a lot of outreach programs and ways to help asylum seekers. It’s just a startup right now, but I’ve got some lawyers like Matt Murdock and Jennifer Banner throwing their hats into the ring over in New York. There’s a nurse named Claire Temple who’s doing what she can on the medical side of things, kind of a Doctors Without Borders type of deal. It’s all localized to New York but it’s a start.” Sam breathed deeply. “It’s a start.”
“You’re doing all of that?” Joaquin asked.
“And I promise you,” Sam said, “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you and your family stay safe. You’re not going anywhere. Don’t lose hope. That’s an order, Falcon.”
How did Sam do that? How did he make everything seem okay when the world was burning down around them? Even in the most difficult times, he never lost hope. Why couldn’t Joaquin be like that? Why couldn’t—
“Squeeze your stress ball,” Sam said. “I can already see that you’re starting to drift away.”
“S-sorry Sam,” Joaquin said. “It’s just…It’s been so hard and I just can’t seem to do it alone.”
“Then don’t go it alone. You’ve got a wingman right in front of you,” Sam said. “If you think I’m gonna let you deal with this alone you’re dead wrong.”
Joaquin took a deep breath. “I’m worried about the people in my neighborhood, man.”
“Okay,” Sam said.
“I’m terrified some asshole is going to try and run up on someone’s abuela just because she spoke Spanish to the wrong person. There’s no telling what’s going to happen now and I don’t want her, or anyone else to get hurt.”
“I understand that,” Sam said, “But you can’t think like that too often. If you allow those feelings to overwhelm you, you won’t be able to help anyone. Understand?”
Joaquin nodded.
“And the first thing we need to do,” Sam said, “Is get you squared away. We’ve gotta get those panic attacks under control.”
“How?”
“Well,” Sam said, “In my experience, the best way to help yourself, is to help others. Have you considered volunteering? Maybe there’s a cause you can help with. I know there are some reading programs to help immigrants learn English. There are soup kitchens to help feed the unhoused, there are initiatives to help build homes. There’s lots of stuff you can do to take your mind off of all the nonsense that’s been going around.”
Joaquin just chuckled. “Leave it to Sam Wilson to find the bright side.”
Sam simply shrugged. “What kind of Captain America would I be if I didn’t, right?”
Joaquin went home that night but he still had trouble wrapping his head around all of it. The hatred. The racism. The xenophobia. There was no way he could get a good nights rest with all of that in his—
The doorbell rang. Joaquin got up and walked to the door. He opened it up and there stood—
“Sam?” Joaquin asked. “What’re you doing here?”
Sam Wilson, the sentinel of liberty, stood at Joaquin’s door step, a pizza in hand and a grin on his face.
“I figured you could use a little company,” Sam said, “But if not, I could always come back later and—”
“No, no, no. Please, come in.” Joaquin moved out of the way to let Sam pass. “Mi casa es su casa.”
Sam came in. “You like sausage pizza, right?”
Joaquin nodded his head. “Yeah, it’s my favorite, how did you know?”
“Rule of being Captain America, you’re supposed to know your Falcon’s favorite type of pizza. Every month Steve would drop by my place with my favorite pizza. I still don’t know how he figured it out.” Sam shook his head and placed the pizza down on Joaquin’s coffee table.
Wow, Sam Wilson delivering him a pizza in the middle of the night? Joaquin must’ve been dreaming.
Sam walked in and did what he could to make the space as comfortable as possible. Sam got plates for the pizza and cups for drinks. He told Joaquin to sit down and relax. And Joaquin felt a strong sense of…relief? He felt as though he didn’t have to face all of this on his own. There are so many stories about being a one man army and doing everything on your own. But anyone who has served knows that going it alone is a surefire way to end up dead.
And with Sam Wilson around, Joaquin would never have to go it alone.
“Alright,” Sam said, “I’m thinking movie night? Does Coco sound good to you?”
Joaquin smiled. “Coco sounds perfect Cap.”