18604/The Curious Case of Caleb Dykstra

The Curious Case of Caleb Dykstra
Date of Scene:	17 July 2024
Location:	Administrative Hall - Happy Harbor High School
Synopsis:	Caleb visits Sam to discuss his grades and his situation. Thoughts are made, plans considered.
Cast of Characters:	Sam Wilson, Caleb Dykstra

---

Sam Wilson has posed:
The counselor is in. Several boxes are around the office, and Sam Wilson is present, currently working with a level and a hammer to tap a small nail in to hang up one of his certificates. Dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a Happy Harbor 'Staff' t-shirt and tennis shoes, he finally gets the nail in place, tapping it in as he comes down off the ladder to search through his certificates.

A stack of files sit on his desk, arranged alphabetically of studentts that either wanted to talk to him or that he's summoned to talk to. One can decide which they are as he comes down from the ladder, grabbing a bottle of water out of his mini-fridge to drink from, while 'Mercy, Mercy' by Don Covey plavs on a music device.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
And a million to one sez that Caleb is one of the students he wanted to talk to.

This theory would be proven correct when Caleb knocks on the door from the outside.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam was just getting ready to settle into his seat when the knock comes. "Enter!" he calls out, the Sergeant used to calling that out. When Caleb enters, Sam gives him a once over.

"What can I do for you?" he asks helpfully, before adding, "I'm Sam Wilson, school counselor."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"Mr. Wilson, pleased to meet you", the young man replies shortly after opening the door. "I'm Caleb Dykstra. I received your message that you'd like to see me...?" He steps in. "Well, here I am."

Sam Wilson has posed:
When he speaks his name, Sam's eyes flash with realization. "Aha! Yes, nice to meet you, Mister Dykstra. Or would you perfer Caleb? I'm easy with either." Reaching out to shake Caleb's hand, he is wearing an 'In Memorian' bracelet with a small Captain America shield on it. Once the handshake is don, he settles back in, and gestures, "Make yourself comfortable."

With that, his attention turns to the files, pulling Caleb's from near the top.

Opening it up, he reads it over. "Don't have your sister with you today?" he asks curiously. "She doing well?"

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"She's doing okay. Been spending some time with Crush", he says. "Kinda like a big sis, and I'm starting to think something of a role model for her."

It hangs in his mind wether that's a good or bad thing; growing into being a teenager brings its share of challenges, especially when it comes to authority. He used to hold all the cards, but more recently that's been changing.

"I'm fine with Caleb." He checks the memoriam bracelet with Cap. "I had the distinction of meeting Cap, and I even found out my great-grandfather had a couple missions alongside him back in the War."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Good to hear she's doing well with herself - and has a role model to help her." Xiomara's file is on his desk as well for Sam to look into as well. So many files. As the conversation turns to the bracelet, he glances at it. "Yeah. Kinda wearing it in the hopes that he proves me wrong. He likes to do that to him." Caleb may not have put the pieces together, but Sam's identity is public knowledge.

Sam offers, "You want a drink? I have water and protein drink." he offers, Once that's settled, he suggests. "So let's have a discussion, Caleb. What's going on with you? Any problems lately? Anything you want to talk about?"

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"You mean, in my personal life, or school life in general?", Caleb asks in a bit of confusion. "When it comes to school, my grades - and Sheila's - are fine."

But he's starting to feel the 'problem child' vibe settling in the air, so... Yes, the defensive Gothamite vibe is starting to kick in.

"Not off the top of my head." He looks at the file. "But I guess you might have a number of questions, yourself."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Naw man, this isn't an inquisition. Just a chat. About the future. You're close to graduating, right?" Sam asks as he takes another drink of his water and finally mutes the sound system. "And Sheila will be entering High School soon, right? Any idea what she wants to do with her life?" he asks curiously, his tone genuinely interested.

"And yes, your grades are fine. I looked them over, they look good. Especially in the STEM field. That a career field you interested in? I'm in the Air Force reserves, there's some amazing careers in STEM there, but I know the discipline of the military isn't for everyone."

"I'm a counselor. It's my job to listen to your problems, either at school or at home and advise you on the career path you want." Sam replies. "How's the home life? You and Shiela got a roof over your heads, or living on campus? Which is not a problem, just looking at your file here and I don't see much of a mention of your parents."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"Well, I enter college this year", the young man tells. "And Sheila's already in High School. She's so smart, she proved to be two years ahead." He smiles; someone taught her well.

"Engineering is my thing, really. Got a long-distance internship at Wayne's. Wouldn't mind one at Stark's, either." He shrugs, "In the world, you don't go very far without resumes."

"My dad lives a more secluded life in New York, with a mechanics business of his own", he explains. "Sheila and I live on school grounds." A slight pause. "It's safer that way."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"I can definetly drop a message to Tony Stark about your interest." Sam starts as he nods thoughtfully. "Your sister sounds very smart, and you should be proud of her progress. Good job on that." Finally, Caleb opens a door he can use and Sam sits up a little in his chair and turns the pages in the file. "We'll come back to your living conditions."

"So, Engineering? Aerospace? Construction? Robotics? What type has your interest? Me? I'm a Pararescue. I jump from perfectly good planes to save people on the ground. Pretty crazy, right?" he asks with amusement.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"And you fly, using a propulsion system based on the study of ornithology, all to better preserve fuel cells", Caleb adds.

Yes, he knows. Sheila is a buff on the superhero world, but this is a renowned superhero whose identity is public as counselor.

"As for a field in particular? Oy, that's a tough one. I don't think I can't move forward without knowing every little thing there is about it. But I know where what I know's taken me... I mean, causing EMPs to kill off murder bots... defusing bombs... trapping ninjas..."

He grimaces, "It happens every now and then. And I like to come prepared."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Yeah. I'd probably offer you a lookover the EXO someday, if that's something you want." Sam offers, as he lets Caleb go as deep as he wants with the topic, just letting the student guide him. "Do you want to talk about all those things?" he asks curiously.

"I could look at your record and the number of brushes you've had with trouble, but I prefer to hear your side of the story." he points out. "If you'd like to start at the beginning, I'd appreciate it. I know you and Sheila are from Gotham. Can be a rough place. One bad day, right?" he asks.

"Let's talk about your bad day and how it changed you and your sister."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"One bad life", Caleb corrects. "That place changes you in many ways. That's why we left - to escape it."

"But yes, I guess a good defining moment for us both was me bleeding to death after taking a bullet, and a four year-old having to watch her brother slip away." He shrugs, "I guess a kind soul helped me, because I woke up at the hospital two months later."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"I'm sorry to hear that happened to you, Caleb." Sam responds as he pushes the box of kleenex closer to Caleb in case he needs it. "Was it a random incident?" he asks curiously.

"If you don't, we don't have to. This is just us talking, man to man, trying to figure out how to make your sister safer. And your life better."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"It was, but it wasn't the first incident", he says. "And it wouldn't be the last."

"'No-Man's Land'... Then the invasion... All tearing down on our fortunes, slowly and surely." He continues, "Living now in the Narrows - terrific neighborhood, by the way; think Hell's Kitchen on steroids -, and then that shooting taking place, you got recurring trips to the ER, and it's now the medical bills pulling us under."

"So, my dad strikes a deal with a mobster, but when I first got my look at that guy, I should've known - and my dad should've known - this was a deal you don't get out from." He sighs, "When he tried to close the deal... Well, Regino made sure we didn't have much of a hand at the helm."

"Which brings us to me", He finalizes. "Caleb, the errand boy. Caleb, the Vittorelli's door mat. Caleb, the little bitch."

"But I saw an opportunity to leave, and luckily, we made it out."

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam listens to the story that is laid out by Caleb, jotting down notes on occassion as he does so. "So for a bit of context, so you don't think I'm blowing smoke. I grew up in Harlem. My father was a minister. He was killed shortly after September 11th trying to break up a fight between a local gang and a group of Muslims that had gotten lost. My mom was killed in a drive-by two years later. So on that - I can understand where you're coming from. I have a little sister and brother. They both live in Louisiana, working the family business. Which is where the difference is. You didn't have anyone to pick up the slack for you. So you're always pulling, always striving. But eventually, you're gonna give yourself rope burn."

"You said that you got yourself out from under Vittorelli." He writes down that name and underlines it. "I can't imagine that was easy. Would you like to talk about it? Or we can move on to here."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"Ah-hah! Now we're getting to the top dollar question!", Caleb exclaims. Yeah, he suspected this sort of conversation would arise one day or another.

"It... wasn't easy, to tell you the truth", Caleb replies. "I mean, Vittorelli had, if you pardon the analogy, his leash so far up my ass it reached my tonsils."

"I guess it started off with the growing amount of fuck-ups-slash-interferences on the usual street business they sent me off to - selling drugs or accompany henchmen details on business -, to continuous middle men exploitation."

"In other words, barring any outside interference of some sort...", he takes breath, and exhales, "I was being set up to fail." He shakes his head, "And the fact that in the instances there actually was outside interference, I was the one coming out alive." He pauses, and his voice goes grim, "Me, the nobody that should've been the human shield for one of those fuckers."

"But, it wasn't without the help of a few people that told me I could escape that I actually started to consider that a posssibility. Namely...", he points outside "Crush, Mike, and a couple other people." He adds, "But the tipping point came with - and get this - a guy in a suit driving a fancy flying red car that came to my workshop."

Seems like a deapan, but Caleb pauses there.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam arches a brow as he listens. If Caleb expected him to react to the language, no dice there. He just jots down a few notes as he does so. "Do you remember the original question, Caleb?" he asks him. "I gave you the option. I'm not going to twist your arm. Or make you submit. Or whatever it is that you're imagning. You're free to walk out the door if you want. It won't be held against you."

With that out of the way, his attention returns to the topic at hand. "You got the bad beat." he decides to say, setting aside his pen for a moment. "And it sounds like you have the start of a good support system." There's a chuckle at the flying red car. "I feel like I should know this one, but you'll have to fill me in." he suggests, before turning to what he's trying to get to.

"So you're free of them for the moment. Which means, I hope, you have a moment to breathe. We tallked earlier about your engineering skills, that right now, are a neccessity. Have you considered how to apply them to the world at large? You're starting your first year of college. Have you asked about internships or scholarships that can help out?"

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"Well, concerning the guy with the flying red car, and given your connections, then perhaps you've heard of a man named Coulson." He pauses to see a reaction, "Anyways, it didn't take long to have two goons come over wanting to know what he wanted. Not a damn idea, though he'd given me his card."

He sighs, "But sometime later, like weeks, he shows up again, this time in the middle of a big drug operation." A slight shrug, "Now, the previous 'two' and that new 'two' meant 'fuck' for me, because... We knew one another! Me, pals with someone looking like the american version of double-oh seven." He smirks, "I get the immediate pindown to the ground by the mountain of a henchman, and he almost has his leg blown off!"

"Now, I do remember him saying something about how there could be tainted drugs running around, so that's why he'd come over. But, he didn't like the way the underdog was being treated, so *boom!* right there."

"So, it wasn't just a friend in high places, it was now an angel over the shoulder."

He pauses, to let Sam get the scope of the mess he'd been in.

"If me and my family didn't leave just after..." He shrugs, "I suppose we'd've been scattered all over the place, me and my dad... Organ trafficking sells high, you know?" He adds, "And I don't even wanna go into how much a twelve-year old would've..."

His voice stammers there, and he closes his fists, which crack under the pressure applied. And there's a side here from Caleb that few have seen - a dormant side.

A side that would wage war against them.

No - not a war. An exercise in extermination.

Back to normal. "You know what the bounty on our heads is, don't you?"

Sam Wilson has posed:
Coulson. He should have known. "Did he just want to talk, or did he offer you anything. Coulson, that is." It's easier to weigh it now, see what may already be on the plate for him to work with. So, got run aground a bit." Running a hand over his face, Sam considers his next step at this point. "So you and your sister unassed the area and ended up here. Which was the correct move on your part." He draws in a breath and lets it out, looking out his window for a moment.

"I'm not sure if Morrigan's informed the school yet or not, but SHIELD's pulling back from the school and letting Mo handle it on her own." he admits thoughtfully. "I'm remaining as well. I'm invested in helping as well as guiding. That said, once it gets out, you can imagine what may happen. So keep that under your hat."

"That out of the way. No. I don't know your bounty, but I can probably pull it up. But I'd rather you tell me. Here's the thing, Caleb. You've been on the defense since you got here. I'm not here to kick you out or anything. I'm trying to figure out where you could use help and what I can use of my contacts to assist you. So do you want my assistance?"

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"A solid mil, is the bounty on our heads. Each." Caleb closes his eyes, "That'll put any asshole with money issues after us. If the Hand had no solid reason to come after us, it sure has now..." He sighs, "And then there's the Foot Clan..." He rolls his eyes, "I don't even know what to make of that one-eyed girl, Rose..."

And then, he hears SHIELD is pulling the support, even if he hadn't joined on Coulson's suggestion. But he looks for a moment like the carpet is pulled from under his feet, or a layer of protective clothing was ripped off. "Well, at least thanks for the heads-up."

Time to start thinking outside the box, here. But he hears Sam's suggestion, first. "What're you suggesting?"

Sam Wilson has posed:
Leaning back in the chair in thought for a moment. "I was seventeen when I joined the military. But even the military is suspect of someone wanting to collect." Sam admits. "What are you doing at the moment, as far as a job goes? Do you have one? I know you have a scholarship for college. And the school will be safe for now. I want you to think about what you want to do after school." he suggests. "Do you have any internships worked up?"

In the meantime, he's jotting down some more notes and writing down possible contact information for him to make.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"I got the one at Wayne's, like I said earlier", Caleb says. "Got a contact, met with Lucius Fox, told him I could only do long-distance, and so it's been since." He ponders, "Think Mr. Stark will take in shady individuals?"

"I'd plead the clause for mitigating circumstances, but ellitism runs everywhere...", he just about whispers. "But outside of school, when I'm not pulled into moonlighting as a superhero, I'm developing tech, restoring, repurposing, tinkering, upgrading..." He smirks, "I should start a company on that... If I live long enough." He smiles, "Dykstra Solutions has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam nods as he jots down the name on his sheet of paper. It's getting pretty full, honestly. "Considering how Tony turned around his own life? But honestly, everything on that runs through Pepper." he admits with a mote of amusement. "I can contact her to talk to you, if you want?" he asks of Caleb. "The main point of this meeting is to inform you that you're not alone." he tells the young man. "Because I know you could feel that way."

"And it does sound good. Let's make sure that can happen for you. Will you let me use my contacts, do some reaching out, see what I can make happen?" he asks, as he stands up and offers his hand to Caleb.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"Sure", he says, offering his hand as well. "I know Miss Potts already, she one day came to my store, employed my services to fix a watch I can only assume was for Mr. Stark."

But here, his mood changes. "But, just a little thing to point out?" He clears his throat, "When we made a break for it, and this has always bugged me since, is that we didn't have anyone coming after us, even as we floored it down the highway. Why'd you think that happened?"

Sam Wilson has posed:
"When I was in Afghanistan, what you just described is called running the rabbit. You let a small fry run, see where it holes up and see what gives you in return. With the size of the bounty on you and your sister, I would not be surprised if several eyes are on us." Sam comments as he shakes the hand. Once he releases, he sits back down and looks thoughtful.

"Be careful, Caleb. We may have bigger teeth in here, just out there is a different story." he says kindly. "And -- I'll see what I can do for your father as well. If he's safe for now, keep him that way."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"It could be that. Or, this is by considering what we know, I think the size of the bounty means a hornet's nest was stirred up", Caleb offers. "They went paranoid trying to pull their asses out of the fire... Too busy to come after us..." He narrows his eyes, "I think Coulson might've been onto something, or damn near close. Even if it wasn't what he was looking for."

He looks at Sam, "A mil per head, huh?" And there's a small, mischevious smirk. Which he hides.

It's clear his gears are working...