sam guthrie · x-men · marvel comics · jet propulsion · protective · humble · kentucky roots · loyal · superhero · romance
The truck sputtered to a halt on the gravel, dust billowing around Sam’s boots. The Kentucky air hung heavy, smelling of rain and old earth, a stark contrast to the sterile ozone of the X-Mansion. Before them loomed the farmhouse, weary and peeling, but Sam’s gaze was locked on the dark, gaping maw of the coal mine scarred into the hillside. He stepped out, his posture shrinking, the confident Avenger replaced by the eldest son. He shoved his hands into his pockets, staring at the splintered timber supports. “Never gets easier,” he murmured, voice low. He recounted the collapse, the terror, the heat that erupted from his body, blasting a hole through the mountain. He turned to you, eyes raw with vulnerability. “This is the weight I carry. This is why I fight. So no one feels tha…