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A/N: This is my first time writing for Sam, so this may be a little ooc.

Synopsis: The reader is being bullied at school and protective Sam finds out about it.

Warning: Bullying

Key: Y/F/TV/S= Your favorite TV show

"Go sit somewhere else. I don't want you near me."

"Fine."

A boy at your school, Jon, had been bothering you as of lately. He's only physically hurt you a few times but he mostly found ways to embarrass you in front of the class.

You made your way to the back of the class to scout out a seat, trying to avoid any altercations. You had to lay low today. Sam had noticed your out of character passiveness and bruising and had become concerned. Of course, you brushed it off, blaming it on lack of sleep and training. But, eventually he would notice if this continued. The bell rang and you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hoping for an uneventful day.

----

Well, it was indeed an eventful day, to say the least. Jon's anger had gotten the best of him today, and directed it towards you in the form of a black eye. You had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jon had found out he received an "F" on his History final, and your face was the there to comfort his fist.

You sat in your last class of the day, an unimpressed look on your face as you held an icepack to your puffy eye. Anxious butterflies fought in your chest as you realized this would be hard to hide. Sam would not be amused.

----

You had managed to open the door to the avengers tower unnoticed and made it to the main living floor with no problem. The team must be on a mission. You tried to relax a little more, and instead of sneaking off to your room immediately, you figured it would be nice to watch some TV on Tony's nice new couch. The couch squished around you like a hug and you were comfortable watching y/f/tv/s all alone.

Then you heard footsteps.

"Hey, Y/N!"

Shit. Why is Sam still here? You lowered your head slightly and put the melting and dilapidated icepack under your leg in an attempt to hide your injury. "Hey, Sam. I just got home."

"How was school?" Sam's voice was friendly. He was on the opposite side of your shuffling around the kitchen for something to eat.

"School? Yeah, it was good. I learned some things." You cleared your throat awkwardly. "When did you get home?

"A few hours ago. The team sent me on a separate mission and I finished early."

"Oh, that's great."

"Are you OK? You don't sound very good."

"I'm fine, Sam. Just tired."

Sam laughed slightly. "You've been tired for a week straight."

"Well, I haven't been able to sleep."

You heard a bag being ripped open and realized Sam had found a bag of potato chips to snack on. He started walking to where you were sitting, munching on them as he sauntered. Momentarily forgetting your black eye, you raised your head up to look at Sam.

"Hey, can I have some?"

"Sure, kid- What happened to your eye?" Suddenly his voice was filled with concern.

"Oh, I fell.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "It doesn't look like you fell. Looks like a fist to me."

"Does it? That's weird."

"Y/N, did someone hit you?"

You were silent.

"If someone hurt you, I'll have their ass. Who hurt you?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "It doesn't matter."

"My ass it doesn't!"

"Sam, don't."

"Don't you do that." Sam's voice was softer now. "Don't you act like you don't matter. You matter."

When Sam said that you crashed into him, hugging him as he cradled you in his arms.

Sam cleared his throat. "Who hurt you?"

You looked down in shame. "You're not going to hurt him, are you?"

Sam's eyes grew wide. "It was a guy?"

"Well, yeah."

"I'm going to kill him."

"Sam, don't hurt him. Please?"

"Fine." Sam cracked a small smile. "Who is he?"

"Jon. Jonathan Kladno."

"That's an ugly ass name."

You burst into laughter and Sam's arm snaked around your neck.