ICARUS [S.WILSON]

o. no hero gets to be famous and happy

I C A R U S

o. no hero gets to be famous and happy
prologue.
( after. )

HIS ROAD TO BECOMING AN AVENGER WAS SOMEWHAT OF A DREAM COME TRUE. There was no denying the sense of righteousness that coursed through his veins like adrenaline with whatever mission he had, the patriotic taste of metal swirling in his mouth after each fight becoming something uncannily familiar. His bronze skin became marbled with dark bruises and sharp cuts, the aching of his bones no where near the breaking of his heart. Sam Wilson had always felt himself drawn to doing good in the world, and to saving the people that resided in it. Only this time around, it was without his wingwoman. Without his wife.

( Ex-wife, though how could he live with himself if he were to take off the ring hugged to his fourth finger? How could he ever break his vow to the woman he swore to love forever? )

      Steve Rogers was able to fill a certain void within his hollow chest, their newly formed friendship offering Sam a purpose he had desperately needed to feel somewhat alive again. There was a mutual fondness between them, a certain understanding of their losses and sacrifices, a sense of respect for each other's accomplishments. Their bond ran much deeper than just colleagues or friends. Sam would follow him to the ends of the world, if it came down to it. Steve would do it for him, too.

      It still wasn't enough, though Sam could never admit to that. Truth be told, her absence was a bittersweet agony that had its nails stuck in his being. Oftentimes he wondered if loving her was doomed to end like the many tragedies she read to him. Maybe he had become something alike Heracles, fueled by grief and guilt, forevermore to roam the earth alone after the massacre of all he held dear. Maybe his current state resembled Bellerophon — the hubris of their love had been so foolishly unrealistic — all that was left of him was a cripple heart and a blind soul. How he, alike Achilles, ceased feeling alive with the absence of his loved one dawning on his conscience, how he felt the need to rage against the world before tearing it apart with his bare hands. Anything to ridden himself of the pain of losing her.

     The worst of it truly was the fact that she wasn't even dead. Not really, that was.

"You alright, darling?" Mrs. Matthews interrupted his train of thoughts, a troubled frown etched on her elderly features as she reached for his hand. There was a familiar warmth in her touch, something caring about the way she held him. "You can talk to me, you know that, right?"

      "Just a lot I've been thinking about, ma. After Washington, guess my head's been everywhere but here. And I wanted apologize for that, truly. I haven't been around as much as I promised you I would be," There was so much sincerity and underlying guilt in his words, it brought tears to the lady's eyes. She squeezed his hand, urging him to continue. "Promised her I'd take care of you, gotta admit never thought it'd be hard to come back here."

      She understood, for God's sake, how couldn't she? They were seated within the house she once shared with the love of her life, where they not only raised their only son, but also their granddaughter. The house that held their heartache captive in its walls and photographs, and where their love had died out like a candle blown out with a single breath. "Sam, baby, you've done so much for me already. What you need to do now is start living your life again."

"I can't," He admitted, the words he never dared to speak finally slipping off his tongue. It wasn't just losing her that haunted him. It was the trauma of watching his wingwoman fall to her excruciatingly painful death, it were the nightmares that plagued his mind of having her slip out of his fingers, it was the emptiness of his bed. "I don't think I even want to, ma."

     Because living in the past was much easier than moving towards his future without her.

— not edited.
a little prologue
to start this story
off! i'm not sure
if i want to switch
between before and
after chapters, but
get ready for the tears