If there was one thing Sam hated, it was Captain America. Don't get him wrong—he loved Steve, and Cap. But he hated how, whenever he was seen at the Captain's side, he was labeled with a term that made his skin crawl.

Sidekick.

It was in headlines on newpapers and magazines: Captain America and Flying Sidekick Save Manhattan! Patriot and Sidekick Stop Bank Heist! Superhero and Sidekick at it Again! It was infuriating! And Sam wasn't sure what he found worse: that fact that he had no one to blame, or the fact that no one could sympathize.

Steve was too good a person to get mad at. He never looked at Sam or Falcon like a sidekick, and wouldn't dream of the day he would call his friend one. Sam could t point a finger a Steve, and he couldn't point one at the media. Who was he kidding? He was a sidekick.

And it seemed he was the only one. You could say Clint followed Natasha on missions, but sidekick? No, definitely not. Hulk and Thor worked alone; Peter was young, but he didn't identify as a sidekick, and no one labeled him as one; Pietro and Wanda were their own duo; Vision and Black Panther and even the Winter Soldier—they all had an independent name for themselves. They were no one's sidekick.

So there Sam sat, invited to the Tower for some afternoon drinking with the team. Tony and Clint were once more trying to consume Thor's Asgardian alcohol (which was proven time and time again not to be wise), Natasha and Wanda were gossiping, Bruce and Steve we're going on about politics, and Pietro was studiously glaring at Vision. The latter was well aware of this, and uncomfortably fidgeted the glass in his hands as he stood at an intoxicated Tony's side.

Sam sat at the bar, sulking, and drinking. Sidekick. Who would have thought Sam Wilson to be dressing in spandex, and tripping over his own two feet in haste to run to someone's side when they snapped their fingers.

One of Tony's friends took a stool next to Sam, nodding in a brief greeting. Sam had seen him before; usually he was trying to keep Tony from doing something stupid, reckless, or idiotic. Tonight, he seemed to just want a drink.

"It's pretty hard, being a sidekick," he mumbled, more to himself.

Sam scoffed. "You a sidekick? At least the papers call you by your name."

"At least your hero doesn't call you that to your face," the man shot back with a wry smile. "Besides, I've seen your military background. The Expo-Falcon trials and all. Pretty impressive.

"It's not often us sidekicks get together," said Sam honestly.

"We should start a club," the man fully noted as he drained his glass.

"Yeah. Only, 'Club for the under-appreciated super-heroes' doesn't have that good of a ring."

This earned a sigh from Sam's new friend. "People have no idea how hard being a sidekick is."

"Do you have any idea how many times I've had to push Steve out of the way of a bullet, or catch him when he jumps off of skyscapers and bridges? Sometimes I'm tempted to just let him go splat."

"It's worse when Tony's drunk and tries to operate machinery, because it's usually his suit. The only thing that keeps him from his workshop when he's drunk is more liquor." The two shared a laugh. The Iron Man's sidekick drained the last of his glass and set it on the table. He turned in his seat, and showed Sam his hand. Sam shook it eagerly.

"Sam Wilson."

"James Rhodes. My friends call me Rhodey. I think you and I'll get along pretty well."

Clint, cheeks rosy ad voice slurred, stumbled up. "Heya, sidekicks."

The two men turned, and spoke in unison, as if out of habit, "Don't call me sidekick."

I feel like this friendship could be one of my favorites in the Avengers crew, and next to no one knows about this! So, with my author powers, I make thee canon!

(Btw sorry for the shortness. Exams and finals and all that fun stuff.)

~palmtreedragons