✪ // PART I. GET IT IN WRITING

[ Waking up disoriented and needing a moment to pull himself together, to remember where he is - that much isn't unusual. Occupational hazard, and not the first time it's happened on the station either. This... isn't quite like that, and Sam's on his feet with the instincts of someone combat trained before the sense of 'not where he's meant to be' has fully settled in.

Last thing he remembers is the teleporter platform, and then...

He doesn't think he passed out, this time. Not quite. And so it's with a growing, sinking sense of dread that he notices he's in a room devoid of personal touches. Not his room - not their room. Does that mean...

He pushes up off the bed too fast, almost stumbles, but moves to the door. Anyone in the room with him already awake will notice that attempt at a hasty retreat - but should the occupant of the room be new to this place, an unfamiliar (or at least, not familiar from Ximilia) face, Sam's priorities shift to them when he notices them. ]

Hey. You okay?

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✪ // Network. UN: redwing.

an assortment of aliens walks into a bar... finish the joke, if you're new here. best one gets a gold star.
for the old familiar faces, anyone up for a comeback tour?

[ What, Sam Wilson covering up complex feelings with stupid jokes? Never. ]

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✪ // PART II. YOUR NEW NORMAL

[ Checking the perimeter is a force of habit, and as such Sam is methodical about exploring his environment, re-familiarizing himself with the station, single-minded determination to avoid thinking about some absences.

Perhaps you find him in the armory. He'll be working the machine, movements practices as if he's done this a million times by now. His heart's not in the joke he makes - he remembers making it before, when he first gcame here. ]

Y'know, if I accidentally create a glitter bomb, I guarantee for nothing.

[ The sunlight room is still as sweet as he remembers, and relaxes something clenched in Sam's shoulders, even though it makes his heart hurt, too. He's made for the open sky, not for closed quarters in goddamn space, thank you very much. He sits in the shade of a tree near the river, watches the way light reflects on the water. If you catch him unawares, his gaze is far away and haunted, though his eyes remain dry. He looks like his world has ended and he's not quite figured out how he feels about it. If alerted to the presence of someone else, Sam glances up, and tries to pull a smile over the expression, to look welcoming. It may or may not be obvious he's not quite feeling it.

The training room draws his attention as well. And if you find Sam here, you might hear him before you spot him - there's the occasional metallic clunking noise, as Sam trains with his shield (form looking considerably better than it does in the beginning of that nice montage). He's built, and he puts in the work - tirelessly so. The dark skin of both is arms is further darkened by bruises that look almost subtle on him but would be nasty on paler skin. Sam's a man who knows he needs to put in twice as much effort, and so he does - and then some. And perhaps it's obvious he's throwing himself into this to avoid thinking and doing other things. If you wait long enough, you might notice he's definitely going to overdo it if left to his own devices. But hey, if anyone's in need of a sparring partner, he's happy to provide. Sam's a tall, muscular man, but surprisingly nimble, and his fighting style is much more based in martial arts and acrobatics than brute force. If you leave him to it, or just observe for a while, you will eventually notice him reach a point where he should call it quits for the day, and just pushes past with no regards for his own well-being - the increasing amount of scrapes and bruises on his arms a testament to that.

Later, he will be in the med bay, moving to the supply cupboards as if he's done so a hundred times before, rummaging around for something to treat his hand with - his knuckles look bruised, clearly tender, like he punches a hard surface. If anyone else in here needs some patching up of some kind, Sam clearly knows his way around and is happy to provide assistance. And if anyone works in here - well. He clearly knows what he's doing in treating his own physical bruises, at least, lost in thought though he may be. ]

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