Chapter Text
The road expanded ceaselessly before them as they headed further east. No destination. The only goal was to get as far away from anything familiar as they could. With the windows down and the AC off, Sam stared out on the flying horizon in the distance as he sat back in the passenger seat. He glanced over at Bucky driving, eyes on the road probably deep in his own personal thoughts as time dragged on and they did their best to gain a few more miles between them and their hometown. Sam sighed tiredly and rolled his right shoulder discreetly as he fixed his eyes on the far horizon and the blurred trees as the car whizzed by them.
It was a normal afternoon those many months ago when his childhood best friend Bucky was over at his house and they were watching a movie, just hanging out. Out of nowhere, it happened so fast. Sam went to the kitchen to grab some chips when several men in black broke into his home and grabbed him. Bucky yelled to check on Sam, inquiring about the sound as Sam yelled back for Bucky to help just as they were covering his mouth. Bucky rushed into action and went to Sam’s aid. He managed to get Sam free before they ran for it. On foot they hauled ass across the city as fast as they could to the subway, to get to Bucky’s place. They reached Bucky’s apartment, packed a few bags and left word for family there and took off.
They’d been on the road ever since.
Sam had thought it over a lot since they left and maybe they had been a bit rash in deciding to run. But the news coverage at the time was more than responsible for shaping their decision that day.
Sam remembered it vividly and wherever they went lately and caught the news, things hadn’t much changed. People with wings were going missing every day. It started with a few random cases here and there in the U.S. but soon there were more and more. The day an elite Wakandan official was ambushed and almost kidnapped was when things grew serious. It had been all over the news. If someone was bold enough to try and kidnap one of the most outspoken advocates for winged people, then everyday folks didn’t stand a chance.
People were weary of winged individuals, others afraid, others just prejudiced for no good reason. Many blamed them for the illness. The illness had always been present but had gotten worst in recent years. Sam remembered hearing someone say that all winged individuals should be put to death. It was someone at work that didn’t know Sam had wings. Sam’s ability to conceal his wings was part of the reason he could lead a relatively normal life. But it required vigilance and secrecy from any and all except for his loved ones and friends like Bucky that knew the truth. But it gave Sam insight to opinions and conversations he wouldn’t otherwise hear if he couldn’t blend in. To hear people he worked alongside every day say they felt that ridding the world of winged people would be better, or maybe then the illness would go away, it shook Sam to the core.
Bucky took an exit off the highway and Sam perked up to look around at where they were.
“Lunch,” Bucky mentioned sitting up straight. He was more than ready to get out of the car. They’d been riding for a while.
Bucky pulled into a diner in the small town. He turned off the car and sighed before looking over at his best friend. They needed to stock up a bit, maybe find a store to purchase some snacks in case they couldn’t stop for food for some reason later on in the day.
They got out and walked over to the nearby market and grabbed a few things for the snack duffel before heading into the diner. It was quiet in the diner at midday, hardly anyone despite the lunch hour. They found a booth to sit at, with a window seat to the parking lot so they could watch the car as they looked over the menu for something to eat.
Quietly they made their selections as Bucky glanced over his menu to eye Sam silently. He watched Sam focused on his menu when he saw the other roll his shoulders a few times. Bucky looked back at his menu and shook his head.
“Do you need a break from the road?” Bucky asked softly.
Sam stopped all movement of his body in that second. It was bad enough his best friend left his life behind just to go on the run with him with no plan of where safety was. The last thing Sam wanted was to complicate things by requiring them to stop so often.
“No, I’m good,” Sam replied.
Bucky dropped his menu to look at Sam still staring at his own. Bucky eyed the other quietly before he returned his attention back to his menu, not pressing the issue any further.