The Twin Flame: Grumpy x Sunshine

You're On Your Own, Kid

"So make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it. You've got no reason to be afraid. You're on your own kid. You can face this..."

You smile proudly, sitting at the edge of the dock in front of the Wilson family boat as Sam directs some unfamiliar faces with a wide grin on his face. He claps a hand on the man's shoulder, walking away from him to move onto his next task.

He only stops when he sees you sitting on the edge of the dock, something he's told you not to do a million times before. You always rolled your eyes and balked at Sam's overprotectiveness extending to you accidentally falling in the lake.

Still, he watches you for a long moment. Your legs hanging over the deck, swinging just a few feet above the water. You hold your injured shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing it in a meager attempt to soothe what he knew had to be painful after that blow from John.

Though your shoulder concerns him, not as much as the distant look on your face. Before, you were never one to people watch. Never one to sit on the sidelines while life passed you by. You twiddle your thumbs with a look of contemplation on your face as you watch people walk up and down the dock, never once engaging or interacting with anyone. It was a far cry from the person who used to jump at the chance to talk, even just meet, someone new.

Without a word, Sam takes a seat beside you, his legs dangling off the deck in defiance of his own advice. The absence leaves your expression as soon as you become aware of Sam's presence. You turn to him with the best smile you can muster, "This is a great turn out, Sam."

"How's your shoulder?" Sam asks, his eyes flickering to the nasty bruise he knows lie beneath your t-shirt.

"It'll heal," you blithely dismiss, dropping your hand as to not concern Sam any further.

"You know, I gotta say I hate when you do that."

"What?"

"Acting like you getting hurt isn't a big deal. Like - I don't know, like you're expendable. Letting yourself get hurt. Refusing to fight back. And you do it a lot," he matter of factly points out.

"I did fight back," you softly remind him, watching the water ebb and flow beneath the dock. There was something about the free flowing waves and ripples that captivated you, that almost made you envious. "I couldn't help you and Bucky and defend myself all at the same time."

"And I'd bet everything I have that you didn't consider yourself once. And you and I both know that's not the only time I'm talking about."

"I made a choice," you forcefully state, recalling the other time Sam was talking about very well. You also remembered how easily the decision came to you, to lie your metaphorical weapons down and take the consequences as they came. "Steve needed to get out. We were losing and-"

"And to save everyone else you just let yourself get shot," Sam finishes for you.

"I wasn't going to hurt Tony."

"That's my point! Choose yourself for once," Sam explains in exasperation.

"I do. All the time."

"No, you don't. I can't think of a single time you've ever picked you." His words strike a particularly raw emotion. You didn't agree. You felt selfish. So much of your time was spent thinking about yourself. Thinking about what you did to other people. "Are you ever going to tell me why you're so miserable here?"

You look up at Sam to find him intently watching you like the moment he looks away will be the same moment you run away again. "I'm not miserable here. I'm happy."

Like you just said the funniest joke he's ever heard, Sam makes no attempt to smother his boisterous, clearly disagreeing, laugh, "You are not happy. Maybe you want people to think you're happy, but I know you're not."