The Twin Flame: Grumpy x Sunshine

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Trust was a rare commodity, Nick Fury once told you. He also told you to go with your gut. And right now, an uneasy feeling swelled in your gut as you slowly turn to find Sharon Carter standing between you and the only exit route, gun in hand.

Pointed at you.

"Sharon?"

You suck in a shaky breath. The whole thing feels like a trap - and that means you're already in one.

She looks up at you, a distant, unsettling look in her eyes. She's angry, you're just not entirely sure that it's you she's angry at. "You know, me and you, we're a lot alike. Always getting left behind. Left to fend for ourselves. Screwed over, again and again."

You take a step back and away from her, "Sharon, I think I should head back now." You slowly reach up, pressing the small button on your comms device, "Sam? James? Where are you guys?"

"They can't hear you." Sharon triumphantly smirks, slightly dropping the gun. Dread swells in the pit of your stomach, not only because you have no way to contact the only two people you knew you could trust, but because it all seems so perfectly calculated. You've fallen face first into the perfect trap. You're in the lion's den. "Comms can be so temperamental sometimes, can't they?"

You gulp, trying to keep your voice as even as possible, giving her not an ounce of the reaction she hopes to pull from you, "I really think we should go back now."

She condescendingly shakes her head, tsking once, "This wasn't how it was supposed to go, was it?"

"What?"

"Any of it," she softly replies, answering you honestly. Her words are true. Much like you, this wasn't what she thought her life would be, where it would go. This wasn't what she wanted. But she couldn't have what she wanted, so she'd have this instead. "For either of us. We were supposed to be heroes. We were supposed to be heroes and yet they threw us away the second we weren't helpful to them anymore. That's hardly fair, is it?"

Her words strike a chord deep within you. The feelings you'd fought hard to fight were the same feelings Sharon embraced wholeheartedly. You'd fought hard to overcome the bitterness, the anger, and mostly importantly, the resentment that threatened to overtake you time and time again. And still, there's a small part of you that can't deny that she's right, "No, it's not fair."

She rolls her neck slowly, circling her shoulders back to stand even taller, "Steve Rogers breaks the rules and he gets a museum, a fucking musical. He gets a legacy. No one even knows who we are."

You parrot the responses that you'd told yourself time and time again, "We were apart of something bigger than ourselves. We saved the world."

Her head snaps back up, raging eyes glaring at you. Your words burn at something deep inside her.

A resentment she'd harbored specifically for you.

Here you were, Sam and Bucky in tow, ready to fight the good fight.

Once again, jumping at the chance to save the world, to put a troubled soul on the path to self-righteousness.

She could never claim the glory of saving the world, no, she'd been abandoned far before that. Not you. No, no one forgot you. No one left you behind.

So here you were, once again the hero.

But you didn't want that. You didn't want to be a hero. You didn't want the glory. You didn't want any of it.

It wasn't your dream. It was never your dream. It was hers. She gave her blood, sweat, and tears for that dream. And you'd taken it right out from under her.