Falcon

Chuckling softly, James pushes through the files again, avoiding the photos and going through the ME reports instead. There’s no ID, no fingerprints and not a lot to go off but they’re working on it. the MO looks pretty similar to some things they’ve seen before, but it’s - something’s not right.

No wonder it’s got everyone out of sorts.

“Hey, let’s give this stuff a break -”

Pushing himself up, James drops the files on his desk and gestures over to the break room so they can get some more not-fantastic coffee they’ve all just learned to get used to.

He looked up when James spoke again, going to put what he was looking at aside, going to stand . 

Apparently, things in the Organised Crime world aren’t going so well

“Yeah, it’s definitely not easy to see, huh.”

James gets it. It’s hard, when you’ve just started out. Wilson’s been with the team for a little while now, but - there’s a lot to get used to.

His smile turned to a small frown at he looked over the files once more. They had a lot of work ahead of them, that was for sure.

Three bodies in one night.

God damnit. Just when James thought that they might get one night of finishing up before midnight.

Shaking his head, James drops his files on his desk and slumps down in his chair, glancing over a few desks.

It was infuriating. They weren’t making any progress at all.

He looked over at Rhodey when he spoke. 

What Wanda had neglected to consider was how it would feel to live underground. The reality of it is the neither level feels more homey than the other. The warehouses in this area aren’t zoned for residential use, so there are no windows to let in natural light or make the place feel any less enclosed. So it’s probably not the fact of being underground that bothers her so much as that she knows she’s underground.

They haven’t been here long enough for anything to become habit, but for the last few days Wanda has been making her way upstairs almost immediately after getting up in the morning. There are only so many rooms in the safe house, and only so much space to share between the five of them. For now, privacy has become a thing of the past. She doesn’t expect to find the kitchen empty, and she gives Sam a sleepy smile of acknowledgement as she moves past him to pour lukewarm water into the coffee maker.

Redwing glance at Sam when Wanda entered. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, but a light screech made Sam turn around. He looked confused, but then noticed Wanda, smiling brightly. “Good morning.” He replied. He hadn’t gotten a chance to really get to know his teammate as well as he should, but no matter, perhaps breakfast would be the best time to do so. “Do you want anything to eat? I’m making bacon and eggs if you want any.” He offered.

Redwing seemed to sense her discomfort, going to hop on the chairs to the opposite end of the table so he was further away from her. He didn’t like the feeling of that, being around someone who was uncomfortable with him. However, Sam and food were in here, so he had to stay if he wanted either of those. 

Location: Georgetown University Hospital, Washington DC Date: April 4th, 2014

The first thing Steve notices is how loud everything is.

Or - maybe that’s to do with the horrible throbbing pain he can feel all over whenever any significant sound goes off, and it’s really not pleasant. He feels like he’s been beaten down to his very bones, this is - he hasn’t felt this in years, not since before the serum.

There’s beeping, yelling, squeaky wheels and thundering footsteps, sharp smells of clean disinfectant and it doesn’t matter how much times change, it doesn’t matter that everything is all high-tech and updated, Steve spent enough time with his mom to know what a hospital sounds like.

Considering the last thing he remembers is sinking into the Potomac - no, wait, there was something else, there was Bucky -

Opening his eyes hurts, the lights are always too bright in hospitals and it’s agonising at first, even opening them a sliver but he manages it, taking it slow and letting his eyes adjust before he even tries to look around. His neck is stiff, both from injury and from laying in this bed for what feels like too long, so it’s not right away that he can really turn too far, but the slow movements grant him a view of Sam sitting by his bed, dust and dirt still on his face, not to mention a little smear of blood on his cheek, didn’t he even change, how long has he been here -

“On your left.”

Talking hurts, he can feel the stitches in his cheek pulling in protest, but it’s totally worth it, Steve knows as he drops his head again and closes his eyes. There’ll be plenty of time for jokes when he doesn’t feel like his head is about to explode.

–

Location: Georgetown University Hospital, Washington DC Date: April 5th, 2014

By the time Steve comes around again, a lot of the pain has subsided, the noises aren’t quite so loud and throbbing - that makes sense to him, okay - and he can open his eyes without feeling like they’re on fire.

He’s been moved into a private room, more peace and quite he assumes, more opportunity to rest and let the serum do it’s work. He’s sure if he ever said this to anyone they’d think he’s crazy but he can actually feel it raging, feel the serum working, burning through his body trying to heal all of his injuries as far and as well as possible.

The room is nice enough, but the one thing Steve notices right away is that Sam is still there. Not quite as dusty and beat up as last time Steve woke up - god, he’s not even sure how long ago that was - and he’s still here. Sitting by Steve’s bed again.

Not for the first time, Steve’s reminded that he made a good choice, talking to this guy.

“You look like hell, y’know.”

Steve takes it slow as he moves, using his arms to lever himself up in bed a little so he can sit up against the pillows. It doesn’t feel too bad, really. He knows how quick the serum works, but - he knows he’s also gotta give himself enough time. Between the stab wounds, bullet wounds, and everything else in between, Steve knows this isn’t going to be his average afternoon to fix up.

He can’t help but think of Rumlow once and awhile. He didn’t think the man had made it out in time. Even if the guy was a major evil asshole, Sam did feel a bit sorry for him. The building falling all around them as the helicarrier crashed into it, no doubt that was an awful way to go. Still, he should be grateful he made it out alive.

The doctors and nurses had checked him out and given him the go-ahead to leave, but he found he couldn’t. Steve was still out and he was really beat up. He had saved the day as well, it would be cruel to leave him alone like that. And so Sam went home to grab his phone, putting on a tune that was familiar to him, smiling to himself as he remembered the day him and Steve met. He remembered he had suggested Marvin Gaye to him, and since there wasn’t a guarantee that Steve had had a chance to give him a listen, he decided that there was no better choice.

On your left

Oh yes, Sam remembered that as well. He looked up from the book he was reading, smirking slightly. Yeah, he needed a bit of rest, but Steve would be okay. 

-

They had made him go home for the night, he had trouble sleeping. His mind was all over the place, thinking about everything that had happened the past few days. However, he showed up bright and early to sit with Steve again. The first thing he notices is that his wounds are looking a bit better. It was probably the serum speeding things up. Steve had woken up pretty quickly after all. Sam’s seen people out for days for less than what Steve went through. He went to set up his ipod again, putting on the same song as the day before. 

Time passed as he continued to read his book, occasionally glancing at Steve. No doubt the man would need some rest. He was reading and missed Steve stirring, but his voice brought another small smirk to his features.

You look like hell, y’know.

Sam put his book down, going to look over at him. “I can say the same about you. Just remember who’s in the hospital bed” He said, a playful smile on his face. Steve was up and he was talking again. He debated going to help him sit up a bit, but decided against it. He hadn’t asked for help, so it would probably be too pushy if he went over and helped him up. 

Good to see you, Sam.

Not that James hasn’t. There was a lot of careful testing in the creation of that equipment. Someone had to make sure they worked right before they could be handed over for the program itself, so - James gets it. He gets that feeling, flying through the air with so much freedom, so much control and it’s a great thing to experience.

If James didn’t already have a solid plan for himself, he’d be up there in the training program. These kids are pretty good, though, and - let’s be realistic, James is probably getting on a bit to be doing this sort of thing.

That right there’s the problem, though - to him and to the others working on this program, they’re still kids, they’re trainees, they’re files and serial numbers. James  wants to know - he wants to know them. He wants to know more about Symonds, who’s got twin baby girls at home and a girl who loves and hates what he’s doing simultaneously, or about Jones whose little brother is in his first year at Penn after getting an incredible scholarship. He wants to know more about them as people, about what’s really important to them, what’s driving them to train so hard for this program.

Wilson, it seems, is next on the list, and as James approaches the training ground, peering up to watch him in the sky. It’s a sight he never really gets used to, seeing the trainees like this, not just making the most of their training and their opportunities to show everyone what they’re capable of, but watching them enjoy it so much.

Obviously Wilson sees him coming, too, making a careful descent and landing with relative ease - impressive in itself - before approaching and saluting. A good sign. Wilson is one of the more promising candidates so far, and James wants to see what he’s made of inside before they go into combat training. He nods and returns the salute before giving Wilson a smile

“You really seem to be getting the hang of those.”

He’s almost a natural, really, James has been watching, he’s kept an eye on the files and the reports. Wilson has been keen to learn and to make the most of this since he got into the program, and he seems to be making the most of it.

Sam felt it was really good for morale. Sure they all missed their dear friends and families, but it was relaxing and fun to talk about them and share stories with each other. Sam could feel the joy that came from it. 

However, right now it was time for business. He was in the middle of training exercises, only stopping due to the arrival of a superior officer. He didn’t mind this, of course. He was more than happy to put a pause on training for a superior officer. 

You really seem to be getting the hang of those.

“Thank you, sir.” Sam beamed at the compliment.  He didn’t want to sound full of himself or rude, but he had been working very hard to perfect his skills. He didn’t believe he was as good as he could be yet and there was room for improvement, but he was never going to get better if he didn’t work at it. No shame in it either. 

You need a hand getting those off? I know they can be kinda tricky at first.

He couldn’t hide his expression of surprise, though he managed to compose himself quickly. The offer was not frowned upon, it was just unexpected. Unexpected, yet he respected the man more for offering. He was a superior officer and didn’t need to even offer in the first place. Sam smiled.