It's been a long week by the time he turns into Sarah's driveway, the Louisiana sun setting in the background. He's back early, but it still feels like it's been too long as he gets out of the truck and makes his way up the porch. The mission had gone well enough and he'd done the hard work of putting Steve's shield to rest in DC. It'd felt like the right thing to do. If not the only thing to do. He wasn't Steve and he sure as hell didn't look like him. Even if no one had said it out loud, he knew how the world felt about a black captain America. That wasn't reason enough to give up the title Steve had given him, but he'd be lying if it hadn't played a part in it. He wasn't Steve and he didn't need to be. Falcon was enough for him and it still allowed him to do what he needed to on his terms.

Still, there was a reason he hadn't told Gwen about the ceremony in DC. As close as they were, he didn't know if she'd understand or want to understand why he'd give the shield away. He'd planned on talking to her about it, but then he'd gotten called up for his mission and there just hadn't been any time. He's sure she won't be happy that she had to learn about it on the news rather then from Sam himself.

He let himself in through the kitchen side door, sniffing appreciatively at the gumbo on the stove and ruffling the heads of his nephews at the kitchen table. Sarah gave him a sympathetic look and glanced towards the stairs. "She's in her room."

Technically, it was Sam's old bedroom, still full of the posters and remnants of his high school career. There was a few yearbooks that Gwen had been quick to bring out and laugh at his school pictures and the short lived dance group he'd been a part of. It still had his name on the door, though Gwen or one of the boys had marked it out and put hers under it. He knocked on the door.

"Hey, Gwen. I'm home."