Every little girl read fairy tales and myths; Carol remembered the battered yellow book with the illustrations, the small type and the words that seemed to go on and on. She liked it better when her brother was telling her stories. She liked it even better when he managed to talk to her about amazing things like how to throw a curve ball and how to oil your ball glove just right. That was a reality she could appreciate. It put sweat on her brow and calluses on her palms. But the evenings belonged to stargazing and Steve's stories.
It seemed unlikely that they would ever some true. After waking in Atlantis (after having said goodbye to Tony Stark), and after having been apprised of the situation, Carol was ready to get to work. There was a multi-verse at risk and she had the breadth to immediately understand the repercussions of COS's actions. The issue was, of course, that she was ready to simply go out and punch her way through their adversary's defenses and require peace of them. It was suggested, however, that she spend at least 24 hours talking to people and getting to know the others alongside who she was to fight.
She brushed her hair and stood, righting her flight suit. If she was going to walk around it was better that everyone knew who she was and what she was about. The main thoroughfare was alive with activity -- people of differing races, sects and otherwise. It reminded her very much of some of the border planets she had visited once upon a time. But with a difference. The graceful Atlantean architecture, the sweet breeze and the gentle sun was graceful enough to make her stop and smile. The smell of coffee managed to make her smile even wider.
Coffee first. Then battle.
Sam spotted her from across the street -- she wasn’t hard to miss with the flight suit, even if none of the locals paid her much attention. Even if he hadn’t recognized the suit and her swagger, she would have drawn his gaze just by the way she carried herself.
But the flashy outfit helped. It definitely wasn’t every-day apparel.
Grinning, he made sure there was no traffic before jogging across the street to catch up to her. “Hey, Carol?”
When she heard the familiar voice and turned, seeing Sam made her smile. She paused before the coffee shop and gestured with her chin. So they were right. I’m not alone. It made her laugh gently. The COS didn’t know who they were dealing with.
“Hey you. Fancy a cuppa?”
“Fancy a cuppa,” Sam repeated, putting on the fakest British accent he could manage. Most of his interactions with Carol had happened in the heat of battle, or at the funeral - and neither place was great for getting to know someone. She was still a foreign entity in a lot of ways: an alien, though not in a bad way.
“Let me see.” He glanced at his watch. He had time, and he was curious what Carol knew that he might not. She knew him, at least, so that helped him place her in their timeline. That was a start. “Let’s do it.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him and took a hard right, directly into the coffee shop. After ordering two black coffees, she turned to find him and thrust one toward his chest.
“Seems like a lot of free time if we’re in a war.”
Sam was taken aback by her directness for a moment, and then, biting back a chuckle, he took the coffee from her hands. “It’s not… the kind of war like we were all in recently,” he explained. “That is when you’re from, right? After all that shit with Thanos?” It felt important to clarify, even though he was sure that she was at least after that. After he’d arrived so far ahead of everyone else, he wanted to stay on top of the timelines. “This one’s a bit more of the cloak and dagger type, if you catch my drift. At least as far as I can tell. But I’m not an agent. Steve’ll be a better person to ask about it.”
“Tony snapped and we were all saved,” she said and shrugged. “I was getting ready to leave the funeral.” The sacrifice was an important - but necessary - part of war. She understood and respected it. The cloak and dagger bit, though? That gave her a moment to roll her eyes over the rim of her coffee.
“Great. Spy stuff.”
“Some of it, definitely.” Sam gestured towards a table in a quiet corner. “It’s not all open warfare. It seems like there are very specific puzzle pieces we have to find and put together.” He knew that part was frustrating to a lot of people. He knew that part made it feel like they were never making any progress, that they could never make any progress. The enemy was a shadow, and it was all around them. “I know it’s probably not what you’re used to.”
The strange nobility inherent in the Kree didn’t mean they weren’t capable of subterfuge; it simply meant they typically told you about what they did or did it with such ferocity there was no need for cloak and dagger tactics. Those belonged to Skrulls and other rim planet types that she had always meant to help. She was about to say so before she cocked another eyebrow.
“Puzzles, huh? Well, I guess I have to learn to be patient.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” If Sam’s instincts were correct (and they often were), Carol was adaptable. He knew little about her, but he’d seen what she could do in the field, and he didn’t think someone could travel the universe without being able to adjust at a moment’s notice.
“I bet you have questions,” he added after a moment. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. He remembered what it was like to wake up in Atlantis; he still had questions.
Her brow shot up -- “Questions, absolutely. Are you the guy with answers?” Carol wanted to understand the context of their war, where the COS came from and why they hated creativity so thoroughly. “Got a COS Agent we can interrogate?” was a quip before she leaned her chin upon her knuckles.
“How long have you been here? I know time is fickle. But last I saw you were lakeside.”
That was fair commentary, Sam thought. He wasn’t going to have all of the answers. He might know where to direct her questions, but he knew he didn’t have access to everything, either. Take whether or not they had an agent to interrogate. He just didn’t know. Sam didn’t like not knowing.
He could answer her other question, though. Sam tipped his head to the side a little bit as he thought back to his arrival. “Since… the middle of May? It was chaotic here. Bunch of folks got picked up for a Hunger Games situation.” He paused. Would she understand that? He wasn’t sure, so he continued, “a battle arena. The, ah, contestants are supposed to fight each other until only one of ‘em is left alive. It was just some sort of simulation. They didn’t know they’d make it out of there.” He took a deep breath. “Most of the folks from our world, they didn’t know what happened with Thanos. I think everyone’s caught up now, but --” His expression was strained. He still worried that his decision not to tell anyone about it was going to have lasting negative effects.
“Some of them have been away from our world for years. It’s been complicated.”
“ … that’s what happens when you get a brain bump. Or not.” She couldn’t imagine describing the war with Thanos, the population gone for years, the sacrifices. Especially knowing that their actions here had bearing but not directly. “Our people should be able to understand, though. It’s a similar situation. Creativity lost? We’re all dusted.”
“Yeah.” The word came out with a heavy sigh. They’d just come off a battle for all of existence. Some of his friends fought to stay above water for years, after the snap. And some of those same people had been fighting to save creativity here as well, for years. Sam knew there was no one better for the job. He just wished that saving the universe didn’t always fall on their shoulders.
Sam tried to shake off the heaviness with a smile. “I’m glad you’re one of our people.”
“But …?” Carol knew there had to be something Sam wasn’t saying. There was a heaviness behind his eyes; while she typically went after it with her fists, she wondered if he would prefer a good chat. And it sure seemed like they had the time.
“Your secrets are safe with me, Falcon.” She mimed zipping her lips. “Safe zone.”
“But what?”
Sam tipped his head to the side slightly as he tried to figure out what she was getting at, or what she was reading into. “We literally met, what … not even thirty minutes ago, total? How do I know I can trust you?” His tone was light-hearted, so he hoped she wouldn’t take it too seriously. He knew she’d been vetted by people more paranoid than he was.
Carol saw in Sam the same caution that she appreciated in partners; it was a rock-steady understanding that one could lean on and use to drive. She tried to look at herself through his eyes and couldn’t help but snort. He had a point.
“But … I don’t really have any friends here. You and I are pretty much from the same universe and Fury saw enough to trust me.” She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward to rest her chin on her knuckles. “You can if you want to.”
When he’d first met Steve and Natasha, he hadn’t fully grasped the situation or the dynamics he was stepping into. He hadn’t known anyone else, and he didn’t have their history, so he understood where she was coming from. Carol didn’t know the Avengers; she hadn’t fought alongside them for very long, and she didn’t have that bond developed through shared trauma. She didn’t strike him as nearly as much of a loner as she might have looked at first.
“You can trust me, too. I hope you know that.” He leaned forward too, mirroring her body language unconsciously. “Here and there. We’ll be working together there, I’m sure. Provided you stick around. Cap and Cap. Cap squared?”
Her eyes widened. “Cap? Shield and all?” It went without saying that she knew Steve Rogers had taken it upon himself to return all of the stones. Sam’s words, however, were suggestive. She could leave that question alone for a moment, however.
“Cap squared,” she agreed, and clapped him on the shoulder.
Sam nodded. “Shield and all.” He’d played that news close to the chest, for the most part. It’d been brand new information when he’d left their own world, so he hadn’t been given any time to process it at all. He’d still been surprised -- and uncomfortable, and unworthy, and honored. Only now was he really starting to feel comfortable with the title. The world needed Captain America, one way or another.
He was still a little embarrassed, though, and he ducked his head for a second, letting it wash over him before he regained his composure. “You wanna get out of here? I’m a good tour guide.”
Carol smiled gently, empathizing with the turmoil that came with such responsibility. She felt it settle squarely over Sam’s shoulders and knew (intrinsically) that this man could handle it.