verb.
To fall back under pressure. To shrink back physically or emotionally.
noun.
The kickback of a gun upon firing.
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It takes a stubborn mind to cling to their humanity when the world seeks to strip it away.
It takes a desperate soul to reach f...
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Vienna was in chaos. A mess of emergency vehicles, helicopters, sirens and smoke. Civilians and task forces and press. It made it easy for two people who really shouldn't be there to disappear into the crowd. Especially two people who would certainly be arrested if they were to be seen to be interfering in an event like this. Two people who had chosen not to sign the Sokovia Accords, and who by default should be retired from interfering altogether.
Sighing tiredly, Sam Wilson pushed his sunglasses a little further up his nose as he braced his forearms on the countertop of the coffee bar. Just as he'd thought the jetlag from the flight to London might be wearing off, the jump to Austria had added another lost hour of sleep. He knew he had to focus though, in these precious few hours after the bombing. These were the pivotal moments that made or broke an operation, and Steve needed him on fighting from. Right now fighting form meant blending in and laying low as they waited for a lead, and that meant reminding himself to relax his shoulders as he idly watched the images playing over and over again on the flatscreen mounted on the wall. Someone had once told him that he noticeably stood like a solider.
The explosion, Barnes - it was an aggressive reel demanding that the planet spring into action. The world was angry, and enough countries had been hit by this blow to make it personal to far too many powerful people. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if Steve was taking on a fight that was more than they could handle. Maybe even a fight that wasn't worth it.
He'd tried to understand, really, he had. But he and Steve had spent the best part of two years combing the earth for Barnes, and now this was how he made his appearance? After Steve insisting that he wasn't a killer, the guy shows up with a fresh body count in double digits?
As much as he trusted his friend, he couldn't help but wonder if his motivations for finding the Winter Soldier were too personal. Clouded judgement could find them both on the wrong side of the law, or worse, dead.
But still, he trusted him. He might regret it at some point, but he trusted him.
He also trusted him to hurry up and get back to the coffee shop quickly - the longer they stayed here the more likely it was that someone would recognise the beefy super soldier making a poor attempt at hiding behind a baseball cap and aviators.
A vibration in his jacket made Sam's stance shift, his hand slipping into his pocket to answer his phone and frowning at the contact name that flashed up. He had expected it to be an update from Steve, not a name he hadn't thought about in over a year. A name he had saved over the number for a burner phone.
But this could be the lead they were waiting for.
"Hello?"
"Sam? It's Kat- Katie, from Amsterdam."
She sounded panicked, and almost like she hadn't expected him to answer; "Yeah Katie, I remember." He murmured, keeping his voice low and level, so as not to draw any gazes in the crowded café. "I'm guessing you've been watching the news?"
