ᴘᴏᴋᴇʀ ғᴀᴄᴇ || ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇs

𝐈

After Y/n was taken into custody and placed in the Sokovian facility, everyone had seemed to move on, some feeling safer with her locked up, some feeling more scared now that another one of the world's heroes was gone, and some feeling indifferent to the entire situation. But new big events had sparked the interest of the people.

Steve Rogers' memorial was only a few days away and between that and the new uprising group of violent activists, it was keeping everyone on their toes.

Sam Wilson stood at the podium facing a group of cameras and paparazzi, "Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically.  The world has been forever changed," he sucks in a breath as a camera shutters.

"A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols... are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing..." he looks down at the vibranium shield in his hands and chuckles, "I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up, and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you."

A man comes up to the stage and gives Sam a handshake, pulling him in at the last moment, he whispers in Sam's ear, "This was the right choice."

Sam stiffens and gives him a tight smile, walking off the stage into the crowd. He meets with James Rhodes on the side of the room, "Take a walk?". Sam nods gratefully and the two head out to a nearby park.

Walking along, Rhodey asks Sam what he's been doing recently with the new change of everything, "Yeah, I've been a-at home with my sisters and my nephews, man. When I left, they were babies. I come back and they're little men. It's crazy, you know?"

"Yeah. Well, you should bring 'em out to DC some time, I'll teach 'em how to fly. Y'know, I mean the right way," Sam laughs at the joke poked at him.

Rhodey laughs along but sighs looking off into the distance of the park, "Crazy to think that nobody's gonna be carrying the shield."

"Hey, we went seventy years without anybody carrying it while Steve was in the ice, so... I think we'll be alright."

"It was a different time, Sam. So, you're gonna make me ask? Why didn't you take up the mantle?"

"When Steve first told me about the shield, the first words I said were, "it feels like it belongs to someone else." That someone else is Steve. I just don't know if I'd be able to live up to what everyone would want me to be."

"World's a crazy place right now. People are... Well, nobody's stable. Allies are now enemies, alliances are all torn apart... The world's broken. Everybody's just looking for somebody to fix it. They're looking for someone like you."

Sam takes in his words, but only comes up with a vague answer, "Yeah..."

"It's a new day, brother... I'll be in touch," Rhodey gives Sam a departing pat on the back and leaves him on a park bench to think about everything.

. . .

A group of men walks in a museum corridor, passing by an intern, talking about some sort of new project they have going on. They speak quietly in the large museum, everything is serene until the sound of a window breaking erupts.

A man jumps down from the ceiling, a left metal arm and a machine gun in his hand, you could see the fear in the men's eyes from a mile away. The man walks up to them, fighting each one, blood spills across the newly waxed floor of the museum.