NOISE POLLUTION ━ Sam Wilson

CHAPTER TWO. I Would Take the Blue from the Sky For You

"Sure."

Tommy opens another latch, pulling it open to another storage unit. He leans in, pulling out a tackle box. He pushes it down the bow with his leg as he leans in again, this time pulling out medical bandages and a hat.

He stands, now facing Sam, and puts the hat on him. "Perfect."

Tommy sits next to the tackle box, putting the pole next to him as he begins to wrap his hands with the bandages.

"What's that for?" Sam asks sitting next to him.

"Calluses. I can't-uh afford gloves, so I just use the medical bandage John gave me. He says it works" He says, unrolling it.

"I can buy you a pair of gloves if you need them" Sam suggests, but Tommy shakes his head.

"No, no, I can't ask you to do that," He says, wrapping his hand.

"A pair of gloves are what? $6?" Sam asks. He leans to his side to grab his wallet from his pocket. Tommy puts a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"It's fine, okay? The bandage works just fine."

Sam stares at him, before pulling his hand out of his pocket.

"Thank you."

Tommy smiles and opens the tackle box, grabbing a swimbait from the container. He attaches it to the hook, pricking himself in the finger, but he doesn't react.

"Maybe you did forget?" Tommy suggested, looking at him.

"What? No, I was just..." Sam chuckles, grabbing a jerk bait from the box. He puts the bait on the hook, pricking his finger.

He mimics Tommy's movements. Watching him stroke the pole to smooth down the peeling tape before wrapping his hands around the handle, casting the line. Sam casts his line next to him.

"If you need me, call me, no matter where you are" Tommy begins to sing. Tommy turns abruptly to him, startling Sam. He grabs Sam's arm, dramatically singing to him. Sam begins to smile. "No matter how far, don't worry, baby. Just call my name, I'll be there in a hurry."

"Cause baby, there ain't no mountain high enough. Ain't no valley low enough," They sing together. Sam holding his fist in front of his mouth in place of a microphone. Tommy leans in, singing with him causing the boat to tilt slightly. Sam leans to the other side, wrapping his arm around him to keep the boat steady.

They laugh together, almost harmoniously. Tommy looks back at the outlet, reeling in the line slowly. The traces of a smile still on his face. Sam could redraw this scene as if he was tracing it on a piece of paper and kept it taped on his wall as a quaint reminder of the era of the gentle being who kissed him when he was sixteen.

"They gave someone else the shield," Sam said quietly, almost like he was being compelled to.

"Mhm?" Tommy casts his line again.

"Steve's shield" Sam clarifies, "They gave it to someone else. A brand-new Captain America."

Tommy freezes, almost losing grip on the pole. "Oh, God, Sam. I'm sorry."

"I should've seen it coming right? I should've known that they would that" Sam says, reeling his line in.

"Sam, you couldn't have known," Tommy says, reaching his hand out to Sam, but it goes ignored.

"I should've."

"Sam, Steve put you under a lot of pressure by giving you that shield – that title. I don't blame you for not taking it. You were just trying to do the right thing" Tommy reasons, but Sam refuses to listen, his judgment always clouded by other's opinions.