When Sparks Fly

Torres

With Barnes all tied up with his date, Yori, and therapy, I decide to accept Sam's invitation to join him and his family down in Delacroix, Louisiana. I call Sam and start the three hour flight. Sam gives me an address and tells me to meet him there, but when I get there it is a boat yard. I look around and find a boat that has 'Paul & Darlene' on the side. Sam has talked about his parents enough for me to know that this boat more than likely belongs to the Wilson's. But before I get on I shout out, "hello?"

Sam comes out of the helm, "well, well, there she is." Sam gestures for me to come aboard, "don't be scared, just be careful."

I cautiously step on to the boat, which looks like it's made of most rust at this point, "hey, how are things going down here?"

"Uh, not so well," Sam shakes his head.

"Oh? Why not?"

"Uh... while I was gone Sarah took out some loans against the house and now it's looking like we're gonna have to sell the boat."

"Can't you guys get some loans?"

"Tried and denied."

"You work for the airforce. Why would they deny you for a loan?"

"Because I haven't been here for five years and we don't get paid for saving the world."

"Yeah," I nod and shrug, "plus room and board is about all we get for free. But you're the Falcon."

"Oh yeah, speaking of that, the loan officer asked me if I played any professional sports."

"No," I shake my head with a slight gasp.

"And then asked to get a picture of me with my arms out, while denying our loan application."

"Uh, do I need to go down there and have a talk with him?"

"No, it's alright Phebs. We'll figure something out."

"Are you sure? Is there anything I can do for you guys?"

Sam chuckles, "you could head down to the hull and give the engine a little shock."

I shake my head and look around, "I think that would do a bit more damage than good."

As Sam and I laugh his phone goes off, notifying him of a message, Sam whines as he looks over the phone, "damn."

"What?"

"Uh, there is a young guy I'm working with, Joaquin Torres, and uh," Sam shows me the phone.

"Ouch, looks like he just got his ass handed to him."

Sam nods, "yeah, you up for visiting the house? Meeting Sarah and the kids?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam and I head back to the house, me driving behind him in the rental car I have. When we get back to the house, it doesn't look like Sarah and the boys are there. We head inside and to the living room, which has a desk set up, "uh, do I need to leave?"

Sam looks over his shoulder to me, "what? No, Phebs, you're fine, I don't think I have to worry about you becoming a security risk."

"Says the guy who went from a hero to a criminal in the matter of a few minutes."

"Yeah, well, everything is a matter of perception," as Sam defense himself and the other's who had to go on the run before I was even recruited for the Avengers, something he doesn't need to do, he starts playing a video that Torres sent him, showing a man in a black mask with a red handprint across the face of it, fighting people and even flipping Torres, who I assume is filming, onto his back, before kicking him in the face.

Once we watch the video Sam calls Torres, propping him up on the computer monitor since it's a video call, "hey, did you watch it?"

"Yeah, we did."

"We? Sam, this was supposed to stay quiet. Not everyone can know about it and anyone could be..."

"Joaquin, relax, it was me and Phoebe," Sam leans over so I can lean into view of the camera.

I smile and wave a bit, "hi."

Torres becomes a bit flustered, "you're... you're..."

"Yeah," I nod, answering rather dying.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"Hey, focus," Sam snaps his fingers in front of the camera, "so this is the leader of the Flag Smashers, huh?"

"Yeah, real nice guy."

"Uh," I shake my head, "I don't think you have the leader."

"Why?" Sam looks over to me.

"If this group is as big as you say it is, then the leader wouldn't need to go out and do things like this. Why risk being caught if you don't have to?"

"Oh, I never even thought about that," Torres groans.

"I thought you were supposed to be monitoring them online," Sam calls attention to Torres' bruised face.

"I was, I did. But you know sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty or a broken orbital."

Sam scoffs, "stop trying to impress Phoebe, trust me it can't be done. You're lucky that's all you got."

We watch the video again, this time watching a clip where the man throws someone across the street a couple dozen yards. I cross my arms, "he's strong."

"He was," Torres nods, "I mean, they went dark as soon as it was all over. But that's their M.O. We gotta keep our eyes and ears on the ground till they pop up again."

"Anything else happen outside the video?" Sam asks, scanning the video for something.

"No, my face was in the dirt before I knew what was happening. Why? What are you thinking?"

"Nothin'."

"Wait. You don't think he could be a...."

"Look, I'll circle back to you. Let's keep this between the three of us, okay?"

"Alright," Torres agrees.

"Oh, my God, Sam," the worried voice of a woman catches our attention, when I turn I see Sam's sister walking in. "Oh," she looks me up and down, "you're Phoebe Rose, aren't you?"

I nod, "yes, I am. And you must be Sarah."

"Yeah," she gives me a wry smile, since she is still in a worried state, "and I wish we could meet under different circumstances."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," Sarah grabs the tv remote and turns on a news cast.

The director of the Smithsonian is in front of the building, giving a press conference or something, "unrest, in the wake of recent events has left us vulnerable. Everyday Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America's greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America."

As he says 'new Captain America,' I feel my blood run cold and I feel like I can't breathe. I feel like I need to get out of here, marching out of the house. I don't really hear anything other than static until I hear Sam call out to me, "Phoebe? Hey!"

I snap out of my trance like state, "that son of a Bitch!" I bend down to pick up a rock and throw it, what I don't intend on seeing is the bolt of energy that flows out of my finger trips following the rock through the air until I close my hand.

I turn back to Sam, "hey, take a breath, you know what Steve would say."

"Yeah, language."

"No, he'd say don't cause any property damage. I can't afford that shit." I scoff and shake my head at Sam's attempt to make me laugh, "hey, just breath, okay? This isn't gonna solve anything right now."