This came out of a post I saw that asked how long it took Sam Wilson to realize he was being lapped by Steve Rogers while running the Mall.
This was what I thought would happen.
Sam
His alarm went off at five in the morning, but by then Sam was already up. He'd had a hard time sleeping for a while now and right now was the only time running at the D.C. Mall wouldn't be a tourist nightmare. Lacing up his running shoes and locking his home up he started for the Washington monument first. He was no young man anymore but endurance was what he was training for.He was at a good pace next to the long water pool that started the Mall when a fellow runner called out, "On your left."
Sam nodded in acknowledgment as the runner flew by, practically sprinting. What was it about the bragging rights of sprinting the Mall?
Sam was at the Lincoln memorial when it happened again.
"On your left." The runner flew by.
"On my left, got it," Sam muttered watching the runner go. If anything the man was going faster, not slower. Sam didn't know of anyone short of an Olympic athlete that could go that fast. But after four passes at the same speed, Sam didn't know anyone who could go that fast and have the endurance to keep it up.
On the fifth pass the sun was finally coming up and Sam got his first good look at the speed demon's face. The man was built like Zeus or something the way he moved. The man's face seemed familiar to Sam but then again he wasn't really into anything like news, politics, or tv celebrities. It was after the seventh pass when Sam was passing the just opened gossip paper stand that he just about face planted in shock.
Smack on the front of almost every magazine was the man's face. Either he was "Captain America Returned From the Dead." Or "Steve Rogers Smithsonian Exhibit Now Open." The speed demon wasn't an Olympic athlete, he was a superhuman soldier, who'd been messing with Sam all morning long.
Sam didn't know whether to laugh or freak out just a bit. So he kept on running. He saved his energy until he heard them, the too-fast-to-be-human footsteps of someone running. One glance behind him confirmed it.
Sam sped up, "Don't say it!"
He could have sworn he saw the runner smirk, "On your left." And off the super-soldier went.
Sam gassed out wheezing, hands on his knees, "Come on!" He walked the rest of the way to the green park-like space across from the Smithsonian and collapsed under a tree facing the road. The city was awake now bustling and loud. Sam people watched as he caught his breath.
"You need a medic?" A familiar voice called in the same light almost teasing tone.
"Dude," Sam turned to the speed demon runner, "I need a new pair of lungs." Sam shook his head, "You just ran like thirteen miles in like thirty minutes."
The man laughed as he helped Sam up. "Well in my defense I did get a rather late start." The man remarked lightly.
"Did you now? Well, you should be ashamed of yourself and do another lap." Sam retorted sarcastically. Taking a moment to breathe he looked back up at the man who wasn't out of breath at all, "I assume you just took it."
The man threw back his head and laughed.
"Sam Wilson." Sam introduced himself.
The man smiled, "Steve Rogers."
Now it was Sam's turn to chuckle, "Yeah, I kinda figured that out."
Steve smiled at that, "Well, Sam nice to meet you."
The legend of a man turned to go and for some reason, Sam opened his mouth, "You have trouble sleeping at night?"
Steve turned around and gave Sam a quizzical look.
Sam looked away gathering his thoughts, why did he insist on opening his mouth sometimes? "When I was overseas we'd sleep on the ground with rocks for pillows. Now I'm back and..." Sam trailed off not knowing how to describe the sensation.
"It's like your pillow is a cloud and you're going to sink straight through your bed to the ground." Steve finished nodding.
Sam was reminded that all vets had the same baggage most times, even the army heroes.
"Where'd you serve?" Steve ask, now curious.
Sam straightened, "Pararescue, Iraq, two tours. Now I'm out working down at the VA."
Steve nodded in respect for a fellow vet.
"It must have been hard after the whole de-icing thing," Sam remarked and then mentally kicked himself. The last thing this man needed was more pity or questions.
But Steve smiled naturally at the remark he was quite used to, "Well it's not all bad. Polio is better, food is great. We used to boil everything."
Steve made a face at the mention of boiled goods. Sam resisted smirking.
"The internet, so helpful. Been reading that a lot to catch up." Steve motioned relaxed.
Sam nodded. He had only been gone just a year and it had been hard to fall back into society. The least he could do was help the man reintegrate as some of the boys had done for him, "Marvin Gaye, Toubleman soundtrack. Everything you missed jammed into one album."
Steve smirked, "I'll put it in the list."
Sam watched as the man jotted his suggestion down in a small notebook. Steve's phone dinged indicating a text. The man checked it before putting it back in his pocket.
"Well, Sam, duty calls. It was nice talking to you." Steve put his notebook back in his pocket as well.
"Well hey, I work at the VA downtown so if you ever want to stop by, make me look awesome in front of the gal working at the front desk it'd be much appreciated." Sam offered.
Everyone, no matter how great, needed help from time to time and an excuse for a man like Steve Rogers was a necessary thing to show up at a therapy center.
Steve smiled, "I'll think about it. Good running with you Sam if, that's what you call running, that is."
Sam laughed, "So that's how it is?"
Steve grinned, "Oh, that's how it is."
A sleek black car flew up to the curb and stopped. The window rolled down and a drop-dead gorgeous woman poked her head out, "Hey fellas. Does either of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil."
Sam was about to direct her across the street to the clearly marked, huge museum when Steve stepped forwards.
"Hilarious." He sarcastically responded getting in the passenger seat.
Sam bent down getting a better look in the car.
The woman looked over at him, her red hair framing her face, "Hey."
Sam smiled, "How you doing?."
Steve looked over at Sam from his seat, "You can't run everywhere."
Sam grinned, "No, you can't." Even if you were super-soldier Steve Rogers.
The women hit the gas and the car flew off into traffic.
The instant the car was out of sight Sam pinched himself black and blue.
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