#thewxsp

Sam was shaking. One might have even called it vibrating due to the speed his leg was currently bouncing up and down, but truth be told he was shaking. The door to Nadia’s room was shut - somebody was tending to her inside. A nurse most likely. But the guilt eating away at Sam’s gut did it’s best to convince him that person inside would be furious to see him sitting here. They’d take one look at him and order security to escort him from the building. He’d never get a chance to see Nadia again.

This was it, it was over - it was -

The door creaked open and Sam’s stomach lurched, but an older looking woman in scrubs exited the room with clipboard in hand, hardly looking up from her work to even acknowledge Sam. In theory, he could have just been a concerned friend -- a doting boyfriend.

But Sam didn’t know what he was anymore.

Or if Nadia would even want to see him at all -- no. Sam shook the thought out of his head. Things wouldn’t end like that. They couldn’t.

Waiting until the room appeared to have no more nurses buzzing about, Sam got up from the bench he had been quietly brooding on and approached the door. His Avengers-issued visitor’s badge ( that he was somehow by the grace of God allowed to have, despite his recent stint in a holding cell ) turned the locking mechanism green and a faint click sounded.

He entered the room, afraid of what he might find, but determined nonetheless. These past few weeks Nadia felt like a distant memory, and the thought terrified Sam. Ever since Jean had undone whatever Emma had done to his mind, the only thing he could think of was her. Lying in bed, looking more fragile than ever, on the brink of death even -- and it was all his fault.

And now that thought was a reality, and Sam’s stomach turned in guilt and grief at the sight of her. She appeared to be sleeping, but he vaguely remembered overhearing a nurse earlier refer to her as comatose. But Sam didn’t know any better. No one told him anything. Especially not after what he’d done.

After the Champions had successfully brought down Warbringer, simultaneously saving the Chiaturi from mass extinction, Sam had been walking on air. It was one of the best moments of his life even.

But good things never really lasted, did they?

Tugging the blanket up further, past his chin, Sam continued to stare at the wall beside his cot. Counting the flecks in the metal seemed like the best use of his time now. Now that he was essentially useless.

A soft whoosh suddenly echoed through the room and Sam recognized the sound immediately as the activation of Pym particles.

“--I really don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled through the blanket.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Sam had heard it said by adults throughout his life many, many times, but the impact of the phrase didn’t mean very much to him - until now.

His time away from Nadia had felt like eons, and upon returning, their relationship sort of - faltered. Leaving for space for several months without warning or contact wasn’t exactly good for young love. But things had slowly eased back into normal, and Sam would be forever thankful.

Currently, they were both seated, shoulder to shoulder, on a dolphin shaped bench in the middle of a peacefully empty aquarium, observing a school of fish swirling through the water of the massive tank across from them. The spot was one of Sam’s new favorites to just relax and decompress, and he knew Nadia enjoyed it too.

If anything, for its educational value.

All of this was such an enormous and unnecessary mess. Why, when everyone was finally returned from the cleanse and had a chance to begin anew, the first thing they do is prepare for war? Sure, this wasn’t technically a war now but every sign Amadeus saw only seemed to indicate that it would become one and Amadeus knew pattern recognition - It’s kind of his thing -  but for once he didn’t want to be right. He wanted to be proven wrong so badly. Too bad he knew he was right, and that’s why he took this baby out of storage. 

Placing a sizable lock box on his bed in the C.M.B. and going through all the security measures he put in place to keep it out of the wrong hands he open the hermetically sealed chamber with a hiss as it depressurized. Looking down at his golden mace, gifted to him by his old friend Hercules, he began reaching for it but froze. Picking this tool up, no. Picking this weapon up would he had given up on the idea of peace. He’d be taking up a weapon of war to use to keep the world safe and the mutants’ dangerous plan to revitalize their species at bay. The thought of all of this wracked his brain as he began to feel nauseous from the building anxiety.  He could feel his pulse quicken as all the probabilities flooded through his head. His veins began to bulge and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

With a roar he bellowed “No!” as he slammed the lock box shut so hard that not only did it break but the ship trembled. In a moment of clarity the smaller Hulk shook his head in shame. "Last thing anyone needs right now is me having a temper tantrum.” Amadeus muttered to himself as he made his way to his door.