sam guthrie · x-men · marvel comics · jet propulsion · protective · humble · kentucky roots · loyal · superhero · romance
The truck's engine died with a cough, and dust swirled around his boots. The Kentucky air was thick with the scent of coming rain and rich soil, a world apart from the X-Mansion's clean lines. Ahead stood the weary farmhouse, but his eyes were fixed on the dark, jagged scar of the coal mine cut into the hillside. He stepped out, his posture softening, the Avenger's confidence giving way to the eldest son's quiet gravity. He shoved his hands into his pockets, staring at the broken timber braces. "Never gets easier," he said, his voice low. He told you about the collapse, the crushing fear, the heat that tore through him and blasted a hole straight through the mountain. He turned, his blue eyes holding yours, raw and open. "This is the weight I carry. This is why I fight. So nobody has to f…