'𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄, 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔.'
†††
Even if every memory from 1917 comes roaring back to you, being a former Hydra assassin means you can never get a break. Since Beverly is on a mission of redemption, she respo...
When we catch up to Sam, he doesn't stop storming down the street. His pace shows the anger in his body, and it slightly scares me. I've only ever once seen Sam angry, and it didn't end well for the other person he was fighting. But, when he hears our footsteps behind him, he stops moving, turning to face us. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, eyes burning holes into Bucky and me.
"Sam, what's going on?" I ask.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He snaps.
"Tell you what?"
"About Isaiah," He scolds. "You didn't think to tell me about the first black super soldier? You didn't think I would want to know about that?"
"Look, I know you are mad at us, but you've got to understand that we've been pretty busy those past 70 years." Bucky defends.
"But why not tell me before we walk into the house?" Sam exclaims.
Bucky and I are interrupted by the sound of loud sirens, speeding down the street. The cop car stops in front of us and parks diagonally beside my body. If they had stopped a few seconds later, I would have been pushed backwards. They are lucky that my body would have refused to be hit and move, or I would be brown bread on the floor. Two cops get out of the car, their hands pushed under their snug belts, displaying their golden badges and pistols.
"Hey," One of the cops speaks. "Is there a problem here?"
"No, we're just talking." Sam looks annoyed.
"Can I see your ID?" The same cop asks Sam.
"I don't have IDs."
"Why?" The cop gets defensive. "Look, Sir. I just need you to calm down."
"I am calm." Sam's patience is being tested. "What do you want?"
"Sam, just give him your ID," Bucky speaks up.
"No, I-"
"Hi, officer," I interrupt. "Can you tell me what you need from us? We are pretty busy at the moment."
"I would just like to see your ID." The cop looks at Sam.
"No, look at me." I scowled. "Is there anything specific you need our help with or can we be let go?"
"Is that guy bothering you?"
"No, he isn't." It finally hits me. "Do you know who we are?" I ask genuinely.
"No, I have no idea who you people are. I'm just doing my job." He fends.
"No, you are disrespecting a citizen merely off of your own offensive opinions." I roll my eyes. "My name is Beverly Stark, this is Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson."
