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“Why do you even have a job here? Aren’t you like a billionaire?” Sam leaned against the side of the coffee stand, looking up momentarily from his phone. Other than a group text from Bucky asking everyone at the academy to come to his poetry reading on Friday night, no one had so much as messaged him a “hey” or a wrong number nude. Considering there were no alien invasions, demons clawing their way out of hell, or mad wannabe tyrants trying to conquer campus, it really was a slow day.
Janet giggled. “Billionaire? You flatter me, Sam, but Van Dyne Corporation and its affiliates donate too much to make me a billionaire - not for lack of trying, of course.” She nursed a cup of coffee in one hand and a half finished frosted doughnut in the other, but judging by how fast she spoke and the way her whole body jiggled like a buzzing bee (oh, irony was everywhere, just like his old English teacher used to say), they probably weren’t her first for the day.
Sam looked back to his phone. Normally, he’d be jumping for joy just to get two minutes away from work, especially considering how much time he already had to spend training and studying on top of it. Now? Now the clock was ticking, money evaporating from his wallet with each passing second.
Considering the enormous space dorms, classroom buildings, assembly halls, and the arena of war took up, it shouldn’t have been surprising that the campus had no room for a proper coffee house. Maybe one would be built once (if) the time fog was removed, but that was only if Tony didn’t add some ridiculous metal refining plant or something.
Instead, the academy had a coffee stand. It wasn’t very big, but somehow housed enough equipment to make everything from a cup of coffee as black as the Punisher’s soul and a mean frappachino. There was also an always ever flowing basket of baked goods, which always stayed full no matter how many cookies, cupcakes, and croissants were sold in the after lunch rush.
It was no spectacular Seattle shop, nor even a Starbucks, but it was something. Considering most of the other possible employment places were manned by robots, Sam was just lucky that he had a shift in the first place (with free drinks and sweet treats to boot).
Janet was still talking, but Sam had stopped listening, his ears echoing the sound of his rapidly beating heart.
“Wasp, uh, sorry to interrupt, but my shift kind of, should have, you know…” Sam jammed his phone deep in his pocket. “Can I work now?”
Her strawberry red lips fell apart. “Oh, Sam, I had no idea!” She pulled off her dark blue apron and handed it over to him. “Sorry about that!”
“Let’s just say you owe me a favor.” Sam’s words came out in a rush. “We can talk about it later.”
Janet waved her hands in front of her chest like she was holding invisible pompoms. Grabbing her coffee and treat, she stepped away from the coffee stand and towards the well worn sidewalks of the academy’s courtyard.
“Good luck today, Falc!”
“You too!” Sam called back.
Luck? Where was it when Sam actually needed it?
He sighed, grabbing a bottle of cleaner and a rag, before wiping down the table.
Saturday’s a long way off, he reminded himself.
That thought only made the lump in his throat tighten.
-
“Are you in need of some sort of assistance?”
Sam froze, nearly dropping his phone from his hand.
“Well, are you?” In the dark, Loki’s eyes glowed a deep, earthen green, two flames that tore through the night’s pitch black.
“Um, no?” The half-question hung in the air between them for a few moments before Sam spoke again. “I was just about to grab my phone and look it over before going back to sleep.”
“You’ve been tossing and turning like a man possessed by a dark one.” Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Have you made any unsavory deals with supernatural individuals?”
“Nothing except our roommate contract,” he replied. Which Loki didn’t follow - Prince of Magical Viking Land or not, the guy needed to take out his damn trash. “It was probably just a nightmare or something.”
“Really?” Something definitely was wrong, if only because there was something that sounded like genuine interest in Loki’s voice.
“I don’t remember what happened now.” Sam shrugged. If anyone could naturally see in the dark, then it was the lord of lies. “Look, you shouldn’t be worried about it.”
Loki snorted. “Fine, mortal.”
As if sleeping wasn’t hard enough already when a freaking Nordic deity sat awake on top of his bunk bed every night, whispering ancient incantations in languages long since lost from the mouths of humans, summoning who knows what.
Rubbing his eye with one hand, Sam grabbed his phone with the other. His heart skipped a beat for a moment before, once Sam deflated like a balloon, returning to its usual, monotonous beat.
There was a Snapchat notification from Misty, a group text from Kamala, and a near indecipherable string of emojis from Janet. Oh, and a message from Green Goblin (why was he allowed at his school again), but since Sam had never talked to him outside of a group projects a few months past, he could only assume (or rather hope) that it was just a butt dial.
“Did you receive some unexpected news?”
“No…” Sam narrowed his brows. “Were you looking at my phone?”
Knowing a magic user, it wouldn’t be impossible to see his screen without actually standing behind Sam. If life really were an elaborate game (and not a pointless game - pessimism could scratch like a sad dog at Sam’s door but he still would not open it) then Loki had all but mastered god modding.
“What would make you think that I was concerned about that? Really, if you mortals cared so much about hiding your emotions then you wouldn’t make your auras so noticeable.”
Sam placed his phone down. “Look, I was just expecting a text from someone but didn’t get it. Like you said, I doubt you’d really care about it. Besides, it’s nothing I can fix.”
Loki chuckled. “Oh dear bird man, did you really believe that I wanted to help you?”
-
Fighting robots was weird - there was just no other way to put it. Muggers were easy to fight (hell, he’d been a bit too eager to fight them off even before he was a superhero), and no matter how powerful super villains were, they’d eventually collapse in defeat once they were given enough hits.
Robots? They weren’t people, sometimes not even humanoid.
“Are you guys sure that they won’t attack me later for doing this?” Sam dodged a punch, grabbing the robot’s arm and pulling it tightly towards him. The slam certainly hurt him more than it did his opponent, but at least it stayed down, blue and yellow sparks flying off of it.
“Why would they?” Misty asked.
“Knowing Tony, I’m surprised he hasn’t accidentally made an evil killer robot yet.”
“Don’t jinx it!” Janet laughed.
“You ready for a break yet?” Misty shot him a smirk.
Sam looked back to the fighting rink. Another robot was already being formed for him to attack again.
“As if,” he replied. “I still think I can knock out a few more of these puppies.”
“You won’t beat my record,” she replied, flexing her arm. The golden metal glimmered beneath the heavy sunlight.
Sweat poured down Sam’s forehead and breath came out in puffs, but he kicked and punched onward. Another electric crack made him grin from ear to ear. “Oh, really?”
“My bets are on her,” Janet said. She’d been using the robo dojo before him but had stayed behind to watch. Her fighting style was less direct and tended to involve her shrinking down and flying into the robot before breaking it apart with her bullet-like buzz blasts. That didn’t mean that Janet couldn’t sock them right where their metal noses should have been though.
“Hey, I can’t lose my only cheerleader!”
Though Sam knocked the robot straight through its center with his metal wings, the shock still vibrated through his body. A small slip nearly set him toppling to the floor (like Jan or Misty would ever let him forget falling on his butt), but he just barely caught his balance.
Misty chuckled. “You really aren’t messing around. Just leave a couple for the rest of us, okay?”
“I’ll try!”
The first time he’d tried this out, he’d nearly been knocked out by a glorified heap of metal. Maybe this school really was good for something.
“Uh, hey, can I ask you guys something?” The words slipped from Sam’s mouth, and by the time he quieted his face was burning even harder than before.
“Sure,” Janet said, shooting him a thumbs up. Misty nodded.
“Have you guys seen Cap around lately?”
“What, are you guys holding some sort of competition against each other?” Misty raised an eyebrow.
“When are they not?” Janet replied, giggling.
“No, at least not now anyway.” If only Sam had kept his mouth shut! But like a sealed jar finally opened, what had been set free could no longer again be contained. “He just hasn’t replied to any of my texts lately.”
Misty merely shrugged.
“Sorry, but he hasn’t contacted me either. Is there something you need to ask him?”
Just if he wants to date, Sam thought.
“No, I, uh, just thought he might be sick or whatever.”
“How can he get sick?” Misty crossed her arms over her chest. “That super soldier serum gave him a perfect immune system. If only everyone could be so lucky.”
“Definitely,” Janet replied. “You’d think with all the pint sized bad guys I face that I wouldn’t be affected by the flu virus.”
“Uh, I…” There seemed to be no words left in his mouth. Sam closed it, lest he leave his dry tongue hanging in the air. “I’m just worried about him, okay?”
“I understand. Do you need me or Jess to investigate for you?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think that’ll fix it.”
“And here I was hoping you’d owe me a favor!”
-
For a guy who’d been frozen in ice over seventy years, Steve was really good with phones. Or at least good enough to manage a touch screen and not need a flip phone.
Really, he should have been more concerned with his history of heroic morality lecture, but even his professor looked ready to fall asleep.
Why hasn’t he responded yet? The thought had been echoing through Sam’s mind for the past two days, tearing through just about every other thought he’d had and nestling itself firmly at the center of his head.
Sam had only texted Steve a second time asking him if he’d gotten his last message (and judging by Steve’s virtual silence, he might not have gotten the second one either). Any more and he would have looked desperate.
There were a million other things that he should have been worried about. Homework, his paycheck, Natasha trying to convince him to spy on fellow students, and shitty cafeteria food, for example. Instead, he could only constantly check his phone and try to keep his heart rate down.
If Loki saw him, he’d probably get a good chuckle out of the whole mess.
A sudden screech, like a thousand toddlers screaming while police and ambulance sirens went off at the same time, filled the room. Students dropped their books to the floor and rushed from their seats.
Sam’s momentary confusion was broken by looking out the window.
A real UFO, he thought. I guess flying saucers aren’t just found in movies.
The students rushed out of the building. The lucky few that could fly swooped over the land-bound students, who were cramming past and against each other like mad cows in a stampede.
By the time Sam got outside, there were three more flying saucers hovering overhead.
“Stay back!” One student yelled, running past fellow students with a heavy force. She only brushed past Sam momentarily, enough for Sam to see a flash of green in the corner of his eye, but it nearly knocked him off of his feet. “The Guardians of the Galaxy have experience with these types of threats!”
“Hey, we’ve fought aliens before too,” another student yelled back at Gamora. Their voice was quickly blocked out by similar cries.
Sam’s wings unfolded from his back. Flying inside buildings, especially cramped schools, was always dangerous. Now, though, he took the air. Wind rushed past him, making the bottom of his jeans flutter.
This was nothing like flying a plane. He’d tried simulations of it before, even manned an Air Force model before, but it didn’t fill his body with a wave of energy. The day’s worries melted away like a chocolate bar left out in the sun. For his next science lab, he’d be testing his hypothesis of if the aliens’ weakness was a good old-fashioned butt kicking.
Lasers, every color under the sun and even a few that Sam hadn’t seen before, flew through the air. Sam whirled past them, flying higher. No matter how many times he climbed higher and higher in the atmosphere, his ears still popped. He gritted his teeth, one fist held high.
There were probably better clothes to wear into battle than a penguin suit, but he couldn’t exactly change there.
The ships were a lot faster than in the movies, moving so quickly out of his way that it almost seemed as if they had teleported a few feet away.
Sam smirked. So, the little green men wanted a challenge, huh?
For the most part, he could only see bug sized specks on the ground. A few were distinct enough to be recognizable. Misty was dodging laser beams, T'Challa was climbing up the side of a building, and Bobbi was moving so quickly that he could only recognize her by her battle staves.
The school property wasn’t doing much better. Someone had fallen into the center fountain, while half of the bulletin board had been blown completely off. Even the coffee stand, at least what was left of it beneath that pile of wood and smashed metal, wasn’t safe. It was a good thing Sam had managed to squeeze in a few extra extra hours that week or his paycheck would have been dismal. It still would be, at least if paying for the stand’s repair came out of his own pocket.
“You think we can hold these guys off?” Janet asked.
Sam turned his head, looking eyes with Wasp momentarily before she shrunk back down again. Her wrinkled brows and half parted lips looked even more foreign on her than the last season’s hottest trends.
“Aye, lest we face even greater danger than is already at our doorstep,” Thor replied, her blond hair fluttering in the wind.
What was with villains and aliens and whatnot wanting to invade this dang school? It’s not like it was Ivy League.
From what Sam could tell, the ships were always just out of reach. If he could just hit one once, even if he broke every bone in his hand doing it, at least he’d have a better idea of just what the hell they were fighting against.
Unless… The thought him like a baseball bat to the chest. What, or who, were they really fighting?
Sam looked to the ground, past the laser light show and UFOs. For the first time in days, he saw Steve. His hair, what little he could see poking out from his mask, was tousled and shield held closer to his body than usual. Not that it would protect him from the glowing green figure that was coming towards him from the back…
Sam turned, dropping down like a bomb. Hot fury ran through his body in waves, just barely enough to hold back the tide of anxiety that threatened to invade his insides.
“There always needs to be a Captain America.”
That was what Steve had told him when he’d suggested Sam take up the shield.
“ I don’t expect to be the only one, and I doubt Doctor Erskrine would have wanted me to be either.”
And he was right, of course. Steve didn’t truly own the shield of the costume. America was more than one man or group, more than either of the two could either grasp.
That didn’t mean Sam wanted a replacement any time soon.
“Steve, look out!” Sam screamed. His words seemed to fly away with the wind, so he repeated himself, yelling until his throat was raw.
Captain America - Steve Rogers - deserved a better death than this. Something that didn’t involve random aliens or dying before he could turn in his calculus homework. Anything but this.
Like it or not, as much as Sam loved flying, he’d always have to return to the ground. It flew closer and closer, Steve growing larger as Sam continued to rush towards him. If he could just get there before-
-
“Life’s pains get to all of us,” Bucky said, giving Sam a small pat on the arm before pulling away when he saw his friend moan, “some more than others.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sam pressed his ice pack further against his hand. Just because it hadn’t broken didn’t mean that he couldn’t not feel the endless pricks of a thousand knives against his skin.
“Thanks for that save there,” Steve said, voice low and eyes locked on his lap. “I would have been in a lot of trouble if that had been… Something else.”
“Every single day, you students continue to surprise me.” Director Fury’s voice echoed in the auditorium even without a microphone. “Right now, I’m just surprised that Ms. Potts and I didn’t know about this sooner.”
Even the ex-villains who tended to talk over teachers in class were utterly silent.
“What do you think this is, some civil war? Do petty rivalries really need to be addressed when everyone is in danger?” Director Fury put his hands together, narrowing his eye at everyone in the room. “Heroes shouldn’t be fighting against each other.”
Even when he was in the middle of the rows of seats, Sam could still see Loki’s smirk from across the room. Amora stood on the stage beside him absently looking over her gleaming emerald nails. Had Mysterio not been wearing a fish bowl then perhaps Sam might have been able to at least try to discern what he was thinking.
“Even before you all faced your great threats,” Director Fury continued, “you all ran past each other, trying to prove just which one of you was the best. Had this been a real threat, you would have hopefully just been the first person wounded.”
He looked over to Pepper, who stood to the side, a clipboard held tightly to her chest. She gave him a glance back, her eyes the only part of her face that moved.
Director Fury cleared his throat. “I see now that it was too much to hope that you all had learned to cooperate back in kindergarten. New teamwork exercises will need to be added-”
A collective wave of groans broke out, including one from Sam. As if his schedule wasn’t already packed so tightly that it was threatening to implode! It wasn’t his fault that his classmates had an ego problem.
“Sounds like some of you weren’t thankful to even wake up today.” He gave a small grin, his teeth glimmering in the light. “Keep acting like you did earlier and maybe you won’t even have the chance to do that. It would hardly be my loss.”
Sam held back a moan. Pain still rushed through him even after the thrill of battle was lost.
“Let’s just be glad that this was a test, one you won’t even be graded for. Instead, I want you all to think over what happened today and how you can improve. Don’t procrastinate, because even I don’t know when a new threat may suddenly appear.”
-
It wasn’t dinner and a movie or a round of bowling, not even sneaking out to the lover’s lane to do a little exploring together. Yet if the warm smile on Steve’s face said anything, then it was that such good, old-fashioned and all-American events lay on the horizon. For now, though, all they needed was each other, a bowl of popcorn, and a B-list horror movie marathon.
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen these until now.” Sam shoved a handful of buttery popcorn into his mouth.
“That’s what you always say whenever you show me anything you like.” Sam slumped further into his bean bag chair.
“Well it’s true!”
Just as the black and white monster (which didn’t look half as threatening as some of the stuff Sam had fought in the past) looked ready to eat the helpless heroine, commercials came on.
“Boo!” Sam threw a few popcorn kernels at the TV monitor.
Steve laughed. “You know, I haven’t watched these either.”
Sam’s heart had sank into a pit when Steve had refused his offer of a date. Now, though, it was safe and secure again. There were worse things than having a shirtless Steve fuss over him and check on his bandages every half hour. And with Loki out, Sam’s dorm room actually smelled decently for once.
“You mentioned earlier that you’ve had problems with your phone lately.”
“Oh, yeah,” Steve replied, running a hand through his hair. “I broke the screen, asked Tony for help, and somehow ended up on a wait list for what he describes as ‘Nokia can suck my ass’.” Steve shrugged. “When I get it back, I’ll give you my number.”
“That would be good.”
“I guess you’ll have to contact me the old folks way until then. Do you know how to write a letter?”
Sam suppressed a giggle. “Why, I’ve never heard of one of those!”
“I guess I’ll have to show you one sometime.” Steve reached out, cupping Sam’s face in his hands. “Believe it or not, there’s a lot of things that I can show you too.”
He leaned forward, giving Sam a fast kiss.
“Aw, is that all you can give me? Show some sympathy to a poor, injured man, would you?”
Steve’s eyes gleamed. “I suppose I can try to kiss things better.”