[ You won't catch him admitting it, but Sam's grateful. He has to work up the stamina to keep pulling alongside the likes of Steve and Bucky, but he also knows his body is, at the end of the day, only human - top shape or nah. And he'd rather slow his roll that end up accidentally catching the shield with his teeth.
At the question, Sam's lips press together. ]
Ain't about the number so much. The aid station's short on everything, man. One more person can tip the scale on the wrong day, y'know?
[ Sam catches the shield, holds it for a moment. ]
It's been five years back home, right. No borders. People just helping each other out, 'cause everything was a mess. So five years later, people pop back into existence out of nowhere. Maybe someone else moved into your house. Maybe borders were moved. People you knew are now older. People died while you were gone. Where do you start cleaning up that mess? Do you kick out the person who now lives in your house, or do you accept that even though it was yours yesterday, it's now been someone else's for five years? What do you do when borders fell away and suddenly there are people back in power who tell you 'nevermind the past five years, borders go back up'. What do you do when for five years, you were free, and now you get pushed out and pushed away, 'cause favor is given to the returned? Steve, it's the same damn people who get trampled underfoot, every time.
[ Sam licks his lips briefly, brows furrowing. His thoughts are on Karli. ]
Don't matter if it's a small inconvenience or a large strain. It piles up, especially if you never get to have a say in how your life gets rearranged. People weren't asked to donate clothes to us, you know. They were taken. And sure, we need them - don't mean the people who's dead loved one's stuff we're getting without their say don't get to be upset about that.
no subject
At the question, Sam's lips press together. ]
Ain't about the number so much. The aid station's short on everything, man. One more person can tip the scale on the wrong day, y'know?
[ Sam catches the shield, holds it for a moment. ]
It's been five years back home, right. No borders. People just helping each other out, 'cause everything was a mess. So five years later, people pop back into existence out of nowhere. Maybe someone else moved into your house. Maybe borders were moved. People you knew are now older. People died while you were gone. Where do you start cleaning up that mess? Do you kick out the person who now lives in your house, or do you accept that even though it was yours yesterday, it's now been someone else's for five years? What do you do when borders fell away and suddenly there are people back in power who tell you 'nevermind the past five years, borders go back up'. What do you do when for five years, you were free, and now you get pushed out and pushed away, 'cause favor is given to the returned? Steve, it's the same damn people who get trampled underfoot, every time.
[ Sam licks his lips briefly, brows furrowing. His thoughts are on Karli. ]
Don't matter if it's a small inconvenience or a large strain. It piles up, especially if you never get to have a say in how your life gets rearranged. People weren't asked to donate clothes to us, you know. They were taken. And sure, we need them - don't mean the people who's dead loved one's stuff we're getting without their say don't get to be upset about that.