[ Sam opens his mouth, close to saying 'he wouldn't, but we ended up enemies and then I died, and then he died'. He doesn't though - it still sits weird in his chest, unsure how he's meant to feel about the man after all that. Former co-workers and allies. Friends, perhaps. He has fond memories of pitching some changes and fine tuning to Stark, involved in redesigning the wings and improving them. Alas...
Sam drops the topic, gestures behind Daisy towards the tent. ]
no subject
Sam drops the topic, gestures behind Daisy towards the tent. ]
You keep glancing back there.