Two Sides of The Same Coin: Grumpy x Sunshine

Begin Again (Prologue)

It's been days.

Or at least you think it's been days, they don't come check on you regularly anymore.

But you sit and wait, thankful that it's been days.

Except for, that a short time ago, you heard the loud noises right outside of your door. You've never heard those noises before.

You restrict the air movement in the room, waiting with bated breath, hoping that no one can hear you. Hoping that they'll forget about you. But it's been years and they haven't.

A large noise booms on the other side of the door. You flinch, curling yourself up even tighter into your corner. They'd kept you tightly chained since your incident with that knife.

The noise repeats.

Once.

Twice.

Then the door you've known your entire life, the steadiest, most enduring fixture you've ever known, crashes to the ground.

An unfamiliar man and woman stand in the doorway of the fallen door. You gasp, shaking uncontrollably as you wait for the worst. But it doesn't come.

Not when they tell you you're safe.

Not when they take off the large metal shackle on your wrist.

Not when they drag you out of your room, nor when you see the sunlight for the first time and it practically blinds you.

"Can you tell me your name?" the man in front of you asks.

The corridor is completely empty, desolate. All the people you used to hear outside, all gone. Your frantic, flickering eyes don't know what to focus on. The man. The woman. The hallway you knew was outside of that door, but had never once seen expect for brief, stolen glimpses when they offered you the bare, most basic necessities for survival.

"Your name?" he asks again, his tone commands your wavering attention.

"I don't think she understands you, Nick," the woman tells him.

You shake your head scared that if you don't tell them, they'll put you back, but also scared that they're going to take you away. Still with a shaky hand you gesture to yourself, quietly giving them your name.

It's a blur after that, or rather your mind blurs it all together because it can't possibly process all the new information that's being thrown at it. The large jet you're hauled into, the medical team waiting when you land, the stretcher you're laid out on, the numerous tests and doctors talking at you.

Not until you see the same man that rescued you. He stands at the doorway of the new room you occupy, closely watching you.

This room is different. They leave the door open mostly, allowing you to see the doctors and nurses scurry and run past your room.

There's a large window with busy streets and what feels like a million different lights glisten and gleam below and all around you.

Different people come in to check on you all the time. Sometimes they greet you with unfamiliar words and insincere smiles. They bring you small meals, carefully watching each bite you take until you make yourself sick.

He approaches slowly, "How are you feeling?"

You don't respond as your mind runs rampant to try and process the last few hours in a world you never knew existed.

He sighs and takes another deep breath. "Do you know this woman?" he asks, holding up his phone and playing one of the recordings from the numerous, frantic calls to SHIELD she made. You suck in a breath, recognizing her voice almost instantly. "You do know her."