Sam emerged back into the sparring ring room. Dunphy sat on a metal folding chair nearby, Sawbones lying near him, unconscious. He looked up as Sam entered. Dang, he said, you got bigger. He got up and followed Sam out of the building. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, they were greeted by the sight of a large crowd facing the building, Walker at the head, flanked by two men. One wore a purple hood, a sleeveless robe, labeled with an H. He carried a flaming sword and had a gun holstered at his side. From the under the robe came armored sleeves, protecting his arms. Metal knee pads were on his legs. The other wore a black and purple robe with Kevlar, spray painted with the orange image of a front facing snake, over it. His face was covered by a green mask. The crowd behind them was an assortment of people. Men in military outfits carrying baseball bats or metal pipes, men in black and green robes with kevlar over them, wearing orange and green helmets. Sam recognized them from recent news reports. They were a hate group, The Sons Of The Serpent. There were men wearing black and yellow, others wearing all white. Walker started down Sam and Dunphy. Give up the shield, Walker said, and walk away. Dunphy laughed. Really, he said. You think you still are worthy of this shield, even while standing hand in hand with The Proud Boys. Walker smiled. They are helping the real Captain America get his shield back, he said. Allow me to introduce my friends here. He pointed to the men standing at his side. This is Hate Monger and Supreme Serpent. Sam did not let him finish his introduction. Instead, he activated his wings and soared, feet first, right into Walker’s face. Walker fell back and Dunphy charged forward, punching Supreme Serpent in the face. Hate Monger swung his sword, its fire licking Sam’s arm. Sam ripped the shield off its mount and bashed the masked man in the face. He stumbled backward into the crowd, which surged forward. Walker came out of nowhere, his shield meeting Sam’s chest. Sam stumbled backward, and brought his shield up in time to block another blow, one that would have hit his face. Sam could see Dunphy, wading into the crowd, picking up guys and throwing them, or straight up punching them. Sam ducked a blow and punched Walker in the stomach. The two traded blow after blow. A flurry of fists and shields. Walker landed an uppercut with his shield. Sam’s vision spun, and he used his wings to rocket backward and into a somersault. He landed on his feet, and threw his shield at Walker, who deflected it. Sam leapt into the air, catching his weapon as it pinwheeled back to him and slammed it down into Walker’s shield. Sparks flew, and Sam lashed out with his leg, taking Walker’s legs out from under him. Walker looked up. Sam blinked. Why up? Something fell from the sky, a metal arm glinting in the sun, smashing into Walker. Pavement cracked and shattered. Bucky stood, and Walker groaned and tried to stand. Sam punched him. Walker roared and got to his feet. Sam slammed his shield into the man’s shoulder, and then chest. Walker tried to reach for his shield, which he had let go of in the impact. His hands found it, and he brought it up, blocking Sam’s next strike. Dunphy roared from nearby. Metal Arm, he yelled, I could really use some help here! Hate Monger’s sword stabbed into Sam’s shoulder. He screamed, blade and fire burning his flesh. He rocketed upward, carrying Hate Monger into the air and forcing him to let go. It wasn’t a long fall. The man would just probably be unconscious and have a few broken bones. Sam rocketed downward and smashed his shield into Walker, driving the man backwards. Walker dodged his next blow, and landed some punches to Sam’s chest. Sam stumbled backward and fell to the ground on his back. Walker was on him now, hitting him in the face, again and again. Bucky football tackled the man and punched him with his metal arm. Sam pushed Bucky away and Walker tried to rise. Sam grabbed him by his helmet and lifted him to his feet. Lights out, he said. He punched the man in the face, and Walker collapsed unconscious. Dunphy roared and uppercutted one of the last members of the crowd. That was awesome, he said, walking over to stand over Walker. I think I broke a dude's arm.
Epilogue Sam sat on the couch at the farm. He had moved here, no longer living in his apartment. The Government had given up trying to own Captain America. Walker was in federal prison. Sam got up and went to the dining room in the back of the house. He looked out of the window. Beyond the back porch and the lawn were the fields. He could see Dunphy out there working. The man had decided to not return to wrestling. Instead, he had gotten a job here, at Wilson Farms. Misty was off somewhere else, and Bucky……Sam did not know where he was. He had said his goodbyes shortly after the battle. The man was still struggling mentally. Sam didn’t blame him, after what he had been through. Red Wing landed on Sam’s shoulder. Sam smiled. All was well. He was Captain America.
