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Sam Wilson, New Addition to Avenger's Lineup, Wants to Inspire Hope as “Falcon”.
Sam Wilson was an integral part of stopping the HYDRA Uprising by taking down Project Insight. Now, he looks towards a future as part of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. I sat down with him to discuss his past Air Force service, family, and the transition into becoming an Avenger.
By: Aimee Lewis
April 3, 2015
[Page 3 of 3]
AL: I understand you've recently moved into the Avenger's Compound. You're from Louisiana, lived in Washington D.C. at the time of Project Insight, and now relocating to Upstate New York. How has the move been for you?
SW: It's been a process, that's for sure. Right now I'm assigned to a mission that's becoming long-term, so I'm trying to move in-between working that case.
AL: Classified, I assume?
SW: [Laughs] Very classified, sorry. But it's been a little crazy, I've been in the process of moving for maybe 4 or 5 months now. I get a few days off, most of them are spent trying to move. I'm at least happy it's almost spring, moving across states in a blizzard is not very fun.
AL: I can imagine. It sounds like you're a very busy man, so I won't take up too much more of your time. I just have one final question.
SW: Ask away.
AL: So, becoming the Falcon, what exactly does that mean for you? What do you hope to accomplish?
SW: Ah, that's a loaded question! I'm going to tell a little story first, so my answer doesn't seem too weird.
AL: I'm listening.
SW: When I was a kid I was, well, I still am, kind of obsessed with birds. I used to dream of flying, and I saw so many birds doing it, that it just became a fascination with them from a very young age. I went to the library every week, checking out books about birds. For my sixth birthday I got my own birdwatching book and binoculars, I spent many days outside using them until the binoculars broke and the pages of the book were tattered. Anyway, I know a lot about birds. And falcons, obviously, they're strong birds. They're smart, they're agile, they're focused. I want to protect people from evil, so all those skills of a falcon are in me too, and they make me a good fighter. But, in a symbolic sense, falcons represent courage and hope. I had a partner, he was just the kindest, most joyful person. Always finding a silver lining, always finding a light in the darkness. So, I just want to combine all of that, the nature and symbolism of falcons and honoring my partner, who embodied all of that as well. I want to inspire others, be a symbol of courage, a symbol of hope. Show no matter how bad things get, there's always a way forward, we just have to believe in ourselves, and believe in the goodness of others. To me, that's what being the Falcon means.
AL: Wow. That's very insightful.
SW: I think you can tell I've thought a lot about this [Laughs].
AL: Well, I hope the Falcon can be a symbol of hope for many years to come.
SW: I hope so as well.
AL: Thank you so much for your time. It's been an absolute pleasure.
SW: The pleasure is all mine.
[END OF INTERVIEW]
~~~~~~~~~
They were about an hour into the drive to Camp Echo One when Torres crumpled up an empty bag of Sour Patch Kids and threw it in his bag with a groan.
“I ate all the candy I packed.” He leaned his head back against the passenger's seat headrest. “...and drank all the soda.”
“It's been an hour, man.” Sam shook his head playfully. The normal route to the base would take about four hours, but Sam had found a way that avoided most major roads, taking them primarily along backroads. As it stood on the road they were on, they were surrounded by trees and were the only car in sight. If they were being tracked, whether by Sidewinder, the government, whoever was at Camp Echo One, or perhaps all three, there was a lesser chance they'd be located if they avoided highways. It bumped the trip up to five and a half hours, but it was still less time and hassle then it would be if somebody found out where they were going and tried to stop them.
“Well you made me turn off my phone. I was bored, what else was I supposed to do? All I packed was snacks.”
“Please tell me you brought your suit too.” Sam said, really just teasing. He'd loaded up the trunk with the shield, his own gear, and a duffel bag Joaquin usually kept his suit in. He knew he'd brought it.
Joaquín gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I packed my suit. Geez.”
“Just checking.” Sam replied with a smirk.
A few moments passed before Joaquín spoke again.
“...Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“...we need to stop soon.” He muttered quietly.
Sam almost laughed as he got the hint. “Yeah, figures, you drank five bottles of soda. And didn't leave me one, by the way.”
Joaquín crossed his arms across his chest, sunk down into the seat, and grumbled out, “Camarón que se duerme se lo lleva la corriente.”
Sam looked over at him for a brief minute, amused by the attempt to mock him. “Estoy manejando.” And then, while Joaquín was processing the words and opening his mouth in surprise, Sam playfully elbowed him and added, “Pendejo.”
“Hey!” Joaquín looked like he wanted to elbow him back, but didn't do it because he was driving. “Rude.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can hit me when we stop, we need gas soon anyway.” Sam knew Joaquin would remember and return the elbow as soon as the car was stopped.
“I can't believe you knew that one.” Joaquin continued to pout.
“You know I speak Spanish. I've done it in front of you hundreds of times.” That might be a slight exaggeration, but Joaquín knows he knows Spanish. Hell, he's spoken with Joaquín's mom on video chat in Spanish before.
“I didn't think you knew that expression!” Joaquín defended.
“Oh, come on. An expression about a shrimp? My family owns a seafood business. I think I know every expression about fish and crustaceans in every language.” Sam shakes his head.
“Prove it.” Joaquín challenged.
Sam smirked.
This would be fun.
“Noyer le poisson, buttarsi a pesce, 海老で鯛を釣る, 海底捞月...that one is about fishing, but I'm counting it, 가재는 게 편이다…”
“Okay, okay. I get it. You know every fish idiom ever.” Joaquín fake-groaned, as if he was so exhausted from being in the car with Sam for an hour, but it was all good-natured. Their conversations often just devolved into small, playful jabs, teasing was just the way Sam showed love.
“Aw, come on, I didn't even get to do the one Buck taught me!” Sam saw a sign in the distance, on the lefthand side of the road, poking out from all the trees. That might be the place for them to stop.
“Нем, как рыба.” Sam continued, eyes focused on the road and the sign as it was getting closer. “Means silent as a fish.”
Joaquín leaned back further into his seat. “Do you just like, study fish expressions? Is there a language-learning app that just teaches fish idioms?”
“Nah. That's a good idea, though.” As the sign came close enough to read, Sam was certain it was a gas station, and hopefully a convenience store as well. “Gonna stop here.” Sam informed, turning his turn signal on and moving into the leftmost lane for an easier turn. They were still the only ones on the road, so it wasn't a difficult lane change.
The truth was that Sam knew so many languages because he'd just kind of…picked them up. He took Spanish and French in high school, and learned Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean in the Air Force. He'd picked up Italian, Dutch, German, and some Romanian and Polish during his Bucky hunt across Europe. He started learning ASL when he began working at the VA, but he only knows the basics and is a little rusty.
All this to say he didn't plan to be multilingual, it just sort of happened based on various circumstances.
But hey, now he can rib Joaquín with it, so that makes it worth it.
Sam took a general once-over of the gas station as he turned into the parking lot. Not a fancy place, but it would do. Gas pumps and a convenience store was all they really needed, after all, and it had both.
There was another car under the canopy, an older man pumping gas. A few more cars and a truck parked closer to the convenience store. Nothing looked out-of-place or shady, but Sam was still on alert. When everything looks too calm is usually when something goes wrong.
He parked as far away from the other car at the pumps as possible, which wasn't that far considering there were only 4 gas pumps.
As soon as the car stopped, Joaquín elbowed him.
“That’s for calling me a pendejo.” He said, a smug smirk on his face.
“Alright, yeah, I did say you could hit me when we stopped.” Sam rubbed at his arm, exaggerating the pain. It didn’t actually hurt, but Sam knew that was just Joaquín pulling his punches. He could hit hard if he wanted to, but this was just a playful nudge.
Joaquín let out a small laugh, before going for the car door handle to get out.
“Wait.” Sam said sternly. “You got cash?”
“I have my card.” Joaquín replied, as if that was a stupid question.
Sam stared at him for a minute, and then it seemed to dawn on him: they were trying to be as incognito as possible. Using a credit card with his name attached to it wasn't very stealthy, they could be easily tracked through that.
“I, um…” Joaquín dug around in his pockets, pulling out a single dollar bill and a dime. “...yeah I don't really have cash.”
Sam smirked, opening the center console and pulling out two twenties, handing them over.
“And.” Sam added, before Joaquín could reach for the door again. “You need these too.” He pulled out a baseball cap and sunglasses.
Joaquín took them, looking down at the cap in awe. “Hey, it's got Sebastian on it!” He ran his fingers along the embroidery of the ibis on the front, turning to Sam with a beaming smile. “Look at you, getting me a special baseball cap for my superhero disguise. How long have you had this?”
Sam didn't want to admit he'd kept it in his car since he first saw Joaquín wearing a University of Miami sweatshirt, two months after they met, so instead he just shooed him off with a hand motion. “Go, c'mon, I need a soda.”
Joaquín flashed him another warm smile, before putting on the cap and sunglasses and leaving the car. He did turn back to Sam when he was a few steps away from the door of the convenience store, giving him a big thumbs up.
How very stealthy, Sam thought, smiling to himself before putting on his own sunglasses and baseball cap with Mike the Tiger on it and stepping out of the car himself to get the gas.
The truth is, Sam knew Joaquín was special the moment he met him. Wide grin, ray of sunshine, yet an extremely determined and tough fighter. He's smart, too, knows a whole lot of mechanical engineering and coding. He's hacked into buildings before, and in mere seconds.
In a lot of ways, he reminded Sam of his younger self…and in other ways, he reminded Sam of Riley.
Sam has a sweet tooth, but is more fond of things like peanut butter and chocolate. Joaquín likes the chewy candy, the Sour Patch Kids and Airheads and Gummy Bears.
That's how Riley always was.
Sometimes, when Sam is cleaning up in their headquarters and sees all the candy wrappers in Joaquín's trashcan, he's right back at training camp.
Sam takes a deep breath, gathering himself. There's never a day that goes by where Sam doesn't think of him. At least, today, he's remembering his life, the happy things.
Riley was this reckless ball of adrenaline and constant energy, never slowing down. A bundle of pure energy. next to Sam's more calm, but still present, joy. He loved photography. Loved sitting down and talking for hours, playing with whatever they had with them, finding a way to have fun.
Him and Riley were both Falcons.
And now, that name is extended down.
Joaquín was the perfect Falcon. A light in the darkness, a symbol of hope.
Riley would've loved him.
Sam got back in the car, closing his eyes and taking a few more deep breaths, hands grounded on the wheel.
By the time he has his composure back, Joaquín is leaving the convenience store with his arms full.
Sam shakes his head, smirking, as Joaquín struggles to open the door with everything in his arms. When he firmly manages it, he slides into the passenger's seat, still gripping all the items, shooting Sam a look.
“You could've helped me.” He muttered, but there was no annoyance in his tone.
As Joaquín carefully transferred the pile from his arms down to his lap, Sam took a general stock. Two colas, two root beers, two orange sodas, two chocolate milks (those were, undoubtedly, both for Joaquín), a few bags of chips, a bag of pretzels, some trail mix, and about six bags of various candy.
“I gave you twenty dollars.” Sam looked questioningly over at the pile of drinks and food. “How did you get this much?”
“Buy one get one on candy and drinks.” Joaquín said proudly, as if he had just hit the jackpot.
“Great. Just what you need. More sugar.” Sam teased as Joaquín started sorting everything out, putting the candy and other snacks in the bag at his feet for later, keeping the drinks out.
“You want cola, orange soda, root beer, or chocolate milk?” He offered.
Sam feigned surprise. “You’re offering me the chocolate milk? That’s usually a Torres exclusive.”
Joaquín smirked. “Yeah, well, I know you won’t pick it. You like me too much to deprive me of chocolate milk.”
“Awfully cocky.” Sam shook his head, taking a cola from Joaquín.
But Joaquín was right. Sam did like him too much to take his favorite drink- and of course Sam knew it was his favorite, every time they go to a coffee shop Joaquín picks out a chocolate milk. It was just one of his quirks, along with the candy obsession.
Sometimes it scares Sam how much he knows about his loved ones. It scares him, because the last time he had somebody so close to him that he knew practically everything about him, he died right in front of Sam. For years after Riley died, Sam isolated himself, afraid to connect with anybody knew, make any new friends, out of fear he’d lose them like he lost Riley.
Because losing Riley made Sam lose himself. There was no gapped-tooth grin, no playful teasing, no hopeful light in Sam for years. No birdwatching, no cooking, not even any baseball or football watching. He felt like a complete shell of himself for a while.
And he's still so, so afraid of losing somebody again.
Especially his mentee. It's Sam's job to keep him safe.
And he knows Joaquín is perfectly capable of handling himself. But Sam still has that deep-seated fear, a belief that he'll never be able to forgive himself if something happened to him.
“Thanks for the caffeine.” Sam says, just to talk. He gets into his head a lot, starts spiraling in his thoughts, going down a dark path in his mind.
He gets his sights back on the road, driving out of the parking lot. They have a mission, after all.
He's so focused on the road, in fact, he doesn't see the way Joaquín looks over at him sadly.
“I can drive.” He offers. “You didn't sleep last night.”
Sam shrugs. “Neither did you.” Joaquín spent the whole night awake, researching to help Isisah. Playing the video back, over and over, until he finally fell asleep at 6am, leaned over at his desk with his arms cradling his head.
“I slept later.” He retorted, which, yeah, true. Joaquín had maybe a three or four hour nap while Sam was still awake, desperately trying to do anything to get Isaiah out.
Everything Joaquín is saying is correct, but Sam couldn't sleep even if he tried.
“I'm good.” Sam says, but it's a lie, and he's sure Joaquín knew it. But Sam won't be able to relax even a little bit until Isaiah is free. Isaiah was falsely imprisoned for so long, Sam cannot even imagine the emotions of being thrown in a cell again, and again for something he didn't do.
(Yeah, this time, it was his body, but it wasn't his mind. Sam knew a whole hell of a lot about that).
This time, Sam looks over and sees the sadness, the worry in Joaquín's eyes when he talks. “He'll be okay, you know? Isaiah. We'll make sure he's okay.”
Sam swallows thickly. “Every minute I'm not doing something is another minute he's suffering.”
“But we are doing something, Sam. Right now.”
“But I don't…I don't know if it'll be enough.” Tears start welling in Sam's eyes, and he turns away so Joaquín won't see them. He's grateful for the straight, empty road in front of him as his vision gets a little blurry.
“But we can try, right?” Joaquín counters. “Y'know, somebody once told me, “There's always a way forward, we just have to believe in ourselves.””
That takes Sam aback, suddenly thrust back to a decade ago, sitting in that chair across from the interviewer, his life a little bit of a mess yet he was finally starting to feel like himself again.
He thinks about how that feels like a million years ago now. He's been so much since then, grown so much since then.
And now here Joaquín is, using his own words to motivate him.
Sam pushes away his tears, a weak smile gracing his lips. “Sounds like somebody very insightful.” He finally says after almost a minute of silence between them, only the sound of the car's engine filling the air.
“Yeah. A symbol of hope, you might say.” He says a little cheekily, knowing exactly what he was doing. Sam wonders if he has that interview memorized or something to keep quoting it back to him.
“Alright, alright, I get it.” Sam shakes his head, pretending to be annoyed. “Eat your candy or chips or whatever.”
“Ugh, fine. Since there's nothing else to do…” Joaquín acted like it was such an undertaking, and Sam finally gave in and told him the secret he kept in the car.
“There's an old flip phone in the console. Has some games on it.” Sam nodded towards the center console where a small storage compartment was. “Knock yourself out. Not literally, I need you when we get to the camp.”
“Aw.” Joaquín teased as he eagerly opened the console, rummaging through it to find the phone. “You need me?”
“Don't get too cocky, c'mon.” Sam quipped back. “Play Tetris or Bounce or something.”
As Joaquín sat and played games for the remaining four hours, Sam mostly just thought about how Riley would've loved to meet Joaquín
~~~~~~~~~
It happened.
It happened again.
Joaquín fell.
Just like Riley had.
Sam must have been wearing out the tiles of the hospital waiting room by how much he was pacing.
They wouldn't let him see him yet, Sam didn't even know if he…
Sam didn't even know if he was still alive.
There was nobody else in the waiting room. They'd put him in a secured area of the hospital, Sam assumed wherever Joaquín was was secured too. They required a high level of security for taking care of heroes.
For Avengers.
Joaquín wasn't technically an Avenger, at least not yet.
But Sam had mulled over what Ross had said, and…
A government-controlled team was out of the question. Sam's been down that road before.
But a team he makes himself, a team that works together, a team that can protect the world…
Sam finally just collapsed into one of the chairs, plastic cushion crinkling under him. He was exhausted, over 48 hours without sleep. But he can't possibly relax, not when Joaquín is in critical condition and Isaiah is still imprisoned.
There was a lump in his throat, his heart felt heavy, and he needed more than anything to see Joaquín.
But he couldn't.
So he did the only thing he could think of- pulled out his phone and called Joaquín.
Obviously, he wasn't going to pick up. He was somewhere in the hospital, unconscious, fighting for his life while doctors and nurses milled around him trying to save him.
But this way, Sam could hear his voice.
And when the ringing ended, there it was.
“Hey, its Joaquín. Leave a message. Menos que eres mi hermana.”
Sam wasn't going to leave a message, but hearing Joaquín's voice…it all just came spilling out.
“Hey, Joaquín. It's Sam. I know you can't hear me. I'm waiting to see you, they won't let me yet. I just…I wanted you to know I'm proud of you. Very proud. And I miss you a hell of a lot.” Sam fights back tears. “Just heal up, okay? You're a fighter, I know you can fight through this. You're gonna fight, and heal, and come back stronger. A symbol of hope, yeah?”
The lump in his throat feels like it's choking him, tears welling up in his eyes to the point he can't see clearly.
Joaquín will wake up. He will heal.
And he will be an Avenger.
“When you wake up, I have something to talk to you about. I think you're gonna like it.”
A beep from the phone, and its over.
Sam, in all honesty, considers calling again. To hear his voice again.
But a nurse walks into the walking room, eyes kind but somber, and Sam fears for the worst.
“Captain Wilson?” She calls, and Sam breaths shakily as he walks towards her.
“He's in surgery. We have an OR with a private viewing area, if you'd like?” She offers.
“He's…” Sam can't get the words out, wiping a tear out of the corner of his eye, but she knows what he means.
“He's alive, but still in critical condition.”
Sam nods, feeling a tear run down his cheek. Being told that Joaquín is still there, that he's still fighting, is just making more tears flow.
Maybe it's because of how this started out so similar to Riley but was diverging now, and all those feelings from over two decades ago are finally spilling over.
“I want to see him.” Sam says. Even if he's on the table, in the middle of surgery, Sam wants to see him. Sam needs to see him.
The nurse turns, and says, “Follow me.”
And Sam does.