Two Sides of The Same Coin: Grumpy x Sunshine

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

You weren't sure how long it had been since you bolted from the conference room, leaving both Bucky and Tony calling after you, but it didn't really come as a shock to you that someone was already knocking on your door. You don't reply, still staring out at the window at the seemingly endless horizon. The door quickly creaks open and you sigh softly, "I don't want to talk right now, Sam."

"Guess again," a familiar voice says. Your head jolts to the side to see Nick Fury standing in your doorway.

"Oh, hi Nick," you mutter, only offering the smallest of smiles.

"To be honest, I was expecting a warmer welcome," he remarks, walking into your room and taking a seat at your desk.

"I'm sorry."

"No need. I was in the area, thought I'd stop by to check on you."

"So Sam called you?" you knowingly guess. You figured that it was only time before Sam checked on you himself or in this case, called in reinforcements.

He chuckles, "Very good, he did. He said you met Dr. Strange today- that he showed you something that you didn't like."

"He showed me, me."

"Yourself in alternate timelines, alternate universes," Nick corrects.

"It's still me."

"But it's not you."

"It could be," you counter.

"And I could be a circus clown in another timeline, doesn't mean I am in this one."

"You don't understand! I've spent my whole life wanting to be good. To be better. To be more than what I was told, and to know that I still could be bad, I don't know what to do with that."

"You don't do anything with that," he replies simply. "We make choices every single day, we make the choice to be good and do the right thing every day- you just keep doing what you're doing. You seem to be doing it very well."

"People have died because of me. People have gotten hurt because of me."

"I assume you're talking about Wanda. And your caretaker."

"They killed her because of me," you remind him, your voice absent as you stare at your hands, remembering how you desperately tried to save her. Every day you had to reconcile that there was nothing you could have done, she was dead the second the bullet hit her. It didn't change that you wept over her body for days, blood very literally staining your hands and face. Until someone had the decency to remove her body from your room.

"I just have a question for you: How do you think we found you?"

"What?" you shakily exhale, finally turning to look at him.

"How do you think we found you? It's not like I've got some built in superhero radar."

"I don't know."

"I'll tell you how: we received an insider tip claiming to have witnessed a gifted individual. That said individual needed help. We didn't believe her at first, and our preliminary search showed no such individual. You already know that there is no record of you...anywhere, which is practically impossible in this day and age. But I imagine she was trying to get ahold of SHIELD for quite some time before someone believed her."

"And then you found me," you mutter, putting the pieces together.

"And then we found you," Nick confirms.

"You found me because of her?"

"They didn't put a bullet in her head because she was caught smuggling something in. They did that because she gave you a way out, because she chose to do the right thing. After working for that terrible place, she did the right thing. Any person, at any time can choose to do the right thing. You could kill me with a flick of your hand if you wanted to."