THEY DIDN'T HEAD TO HARLEM JUST YET, AS IT WAS STILL A LITTLE TOO EARLY. They headed into Manhattan, figuring that they could just walk around Central Park, as it was where they had initially bumped into each other in the first place. This wasn't a date, but it held a nice sentiment to it.

"You okay?" Sam asked, glancing over at Nicky who had been rather quiet for most of their walk, looking fatigued.

Nicky nodded. "Yeah. Damn, I thought I would've shaken it off by now, I'm just in a mood, I'll get out of it in a second. Sorry, I'm usually not really talkative when this happens."

"No, it's okay," Sam said, still furrowing his eyebrows with concern, "You didn't have to come out if you weren't feeling up to it. You wanna just go back to the loft?"

Nicky shook his head earnestly, hating that he hadn't taken a break or slept or done anything at all to try to make sure that he would feel better by the time Sam dropped by. A usually hard worker who never expected things to just be given to him, he should have known better.

"You ever hear from that guy with the dog?" Sam asked, after a few minutes of just silent walking, and Nicky shuddered.

"No, thank God," Nicky groaned, raising his head towards the sky, "I don't even want to get into that guy, he was...wow. Harry felt awful when I explained what happened, he tried to give me money in apology."

Sam laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulder, like he always did, and Nicky reminded him that they were the same height, but it didn't really seem to matter to him. It didn't matter much to Nicky either, but he would never admit it out loud.

The two walked in silence for most of their time in the park, and it surprised Nicky to find that he didn't mind the silence. He had grown up with noise all around him—not always directed to him, but simply around—so he loved silence when he could get it, but it often made him uncomfortable if there was silence when he was with other people. If they both weren't preoccupied with something else, he felt like bad company, not making enough effort to speak.

But here he was, walking along a path with a man he hadn't seen in years, but had thought about for nearly all of them, too down to say a word, but not feeling like he had to. He didn't dare look over at Sam to gauge his expression, but from what he could tell, he didn't mind either.

After some time, Sam checked his watch and made a low whistling sound. "Wanna go get some dinner before we head over?"

Nicky nodded, finding no reason to say no, and the two continued to walk, Nicky passing over his phone for Sam to find a restaurant. He claimed that it was because he didn't want Sam using up his data, but it was truly because his phone was untraceable.

They decided on a small Italian place that seemed to attract tourists looking for someplace nice, but not enough to truly seem like they were tourists. Nicky was always interested in the mindset of advertisement and its ability to convince certain people to believe certain things, but he had never planned to use his PhD's in the industry, so he didn't think too far into it.

As the two walked into the restaurant, Sam dropped his arm off Nicky's shoulder, and the younger man felt a pang of loss, only to find a hand being slipped into his own. He couldn't help but turn his head to look at Sam who was still facing forward. However, just as Nicky was about to look away, the older man's lips twitched upward.

Nicky scoffed, mumbling under his breath as they followed the waitress. "You're such an ass."

Sam didn't say anything, but he did trip Nicky so he fell into the waiter, just as he was about to sit, so it was clear that it was going to be one of those days.

With his face red, Nicky practically ripped open his menu, eyes trained on the words, acutely aware of Sam looking at him from above his own menu, eyes dancing with mirth, and Nicky could feel his smirk.

Finally, after Nicky had hidden his face from view, silently admitting defeat to the other man, Sam stopped his torment, setting down his menu, already knowing what to order, waiting for Nicky to finally get to reading the words and figuring out his own order.

After ordering, Nicky slumped in his chair, fighting back a smile as he glared at Sam who was laughing much too loud for a man on the run, placing his sunglasses back on in an attempt to disguise himself to some extent.

Sam grinned, grabbing a piece of bread. "You alright?"

Nicky shook his head, letting out a deep breath. "Going out with you is so stressful, I swear to God."

Sam scoffed. "Have you ever gone out with your roommate's boyfriend? It's actual hell."

Nicky blinked, grabbing a piece of his own. "Well, he's my roommate's boyfriend, so I can't really go out with him, now can I?"

It took Sam half a second to figure out the joke, and he broke out into a bright smile, giving Nicky an appreciative look; his humor didn't always find its home in the kind of tactics Nicky's did, so it was refreshing to hear jokes he didn't make.

The two wound up chatting as they waited for their food, and when it arrived, starting off with Sam explaining what he had learned about Jen and Bruce, figuring that he could trust Nicky the same way he trusted Steve; he had proven his credibility this far, it would truly be a shock if he found out the man had been lying to him about anything at this point.

The conversation turned to other topics, Nicky not delving too deep into his work, but letting Sam know of his difficulty with some of his new patients, many of them having left, though they never had seen him frequent enough for it to sting too much; that is to say, he only struggled with their loss for one day instead of longer.

By the time they had picked up the check, rushing to catch a train to Harlem in time to watch the choir recital, they had fallen down the rabbit hole of nostalgia tripping, which was rather timely considering where they were going.

They arrived at the choir recital just in time to see the opening act start, and Nicky nearly tripped over his feet at the sight of them.

"No way!" he laughed, drawing attention to both him and Sam as they tried to find their seats, the older man shouting when he heard the telltale start of Semi-Charmed Life start to play.

The two men bit their tongues and gripped each other's arms as they watched a new set of teenage boys have fun singing a song that had been sung when they were in high school. It had been almost a decade after the release of the song when the opening group chose it as their go-to, but the point still stood.

"Are they supposed to just be the best singers of the group?" one of the parents asked behind them, sounding somewhat miffed.

"No," Sam said, turning around, the darkness of the room shielding his face from recognition, "They're just the ones who have the most fun performing."

Nicky grinned as he remembered the group they had when he was in high school. They were a group of boys that he always wanted to be friends with, but, if he was being honest, they were much more intense than he, in high school, was comfortable with. In reality, they were just incredibly friendly people who enjoyed making people happy and performing, always singing their hearts out and seeming to be made for much more than the Harlem high school they had been trapped in, but Nicky was young then, and that kind of enthusiasm had scared him.

Sam had frightened him too, really. Of course, Nicky had grown up with the stereotypical high school jock trope, so seeing the freshman football player singing in the school choir had thrown him for a loop, and for the longest time he had always wondered if it was a joke. He quickly learned that it, in fact, had not been a joke, but that didn't stop Sam from intimidating him.

As he watched the choir performance, Nicky couldn't help remember when he finally realized—despite the numerous times that he should have realized it—that Sam had never been out to get him.

○ ○ ○

It was the summer before his senior year, and his life had gotten much more interesting. People had started to notice him, if he could count all the members from the complex he had wound up meeting over a month before, but he hadn't expected on everyone starting to notice him.

He liked going unnoticed a lot better, if he was being honest.

He had been walking by the bookstore, just minding his own business, when he heard a sharp shout from behind him with enough footsteps to let him know that the voice wasn't alone.

"Green!"

Breaking out into a cold sweat, Nicky tried to school his features, carefully turning around, not wanting to seem like he was standing up to them, but not letting them think he could be overly messed with. Contrary to popular belief, he had never been beat up before—he hadn't left the house enough to do so—and he didn't quite want to change that.

He found himself facing practically the entire football team, and he had to wonder what they were doing together at the beginning of summer. Maybe his original assumptions weren't entirely unfounded.

"Yeah?" he asked, glad that there wasn't much of anything in his tone, not giving them any fuel to their fire. Of course, they didn't necessarily need any.

"Heard what your step-dad did," the boy said, and Nicky noticed with a start that he was the linebacker that replaced Sam when he became quarterback in sophomore year.

Nicky sighed heavily, and was unable to stop himself before he said, "Yeah, me too."

Of course, no one ever liked it when someone was smart, and Nicky soon found himself being shoved into the nearest alley, getting shoved around by the entire football team who were shouting enough abuse to rival the ones he had been given by his family at home. Almost there, but not quite hitting the mark.

Gritting his teeth, he caught himself on the wall he was supposed to be thrown into, able to throw his arms out just before his face collided with the bricks, pushing back before he could get shoved into it by the closest boys.

"It's not like I did it!" he cried, "God, my real dad's done worse, where were you then?"

"Yeah? Well the fucker didn't fuck up my cousin, so I don't give a shit," the boy spat, successfully grabbing him and shoving his face into the wall, scraping his cheek and lip.

"Well, I didn't either!" Nicky cried, struggling against his iron hold, his face screaming at the pain.

"Yeah, but I can't beat the shit outta him, so I'll beat it outta you," the boy spat, throwing him with enough force to send Nicky flying towards the group of boys who held him open, their grip as tight as expected.

Nicky thrashed about, trying to get away, though he was already preparing himself for the pain, resigned to his fate. If they truly went too far, no one would look for him.

Kim was his friend, sure, but she wasn't as close to him as she thought she was. His mother and step-brother were too preoccupied with his step-father, and they never bothered much anyways. He just met those people at the complex, they wouldn't even think.

After the first punch that sent pain shooting through his nose, he heard a loud shout that, at first, he was sure was in his head, the sound of him or another of the boys shouting. But then he heard harsh footsteps making their way over, then the sound of a body getting pushed to the ground with a thud.

"What the hell are you doing?" a voice shouted, and it took Nicky opening his blurry eyes to realize that it was Sam Wilson, "What the actual fuck?"

Nicky coughed around the blood that had pooled around his mouth, falling into a fit, dropping to the ground, the boys holding him now letting go, their jaws set as they looked up at the oldest boy in the group.

"If you don't leave in the next three fucking seconds, I'm gonna call the fucking cops," Sam threatened, and that sent the boys running; because while no one would think to believe him, but by this point, Sam had lost two parents, so he was no doubt acquainted with enough cops to make their lives a living hell.

Pushing himself up onto his shaking arms, Nicky coughed, trying to sniff only to wince at the blood and the pain, gritting his teeth. He knew someone at the complex who could fix this, so he'd have to make his way to Brooklyn, it seemed.

"We gotta get you to the hospital," Sam said, easily lifting Nicky in his arms, and the younger boy grit his teeth, shaking his head.

"Leave. Me. Alone," he spat, hating that he was starting to cry, hating that he was so small, hating everything about everything.

"No," Sam said, and it came out almost shocked, "What the hell—you're bleeding, man, your nose is broken."

"I don't need your help," Nicky pressed, pushing out of Sam's arms, nearly falling onto the ground if not for being caught again.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, just holding him against his chest, looking at the end of the alley where a woman was standing, looking at them, "I didn't know they were gonna do that."

Nicky was trying to fight against his grip, fight against how much he didn't want to because more than ever, he really needed a hug. But he wasn't about to show any more weakness, he was sick of this.

"I can take him," the woman said, and Nicky turned to find the woman he had been thinking about standing at the opening of the alley, "Thank you for helping him."

Sam raised an eyebrow, tightening his hold. "You his mom?"

She shook her head calmly. "No, I'm his aunt." Nicky didn't have an aunt, but Sam didn't know that.

Despite his wariness, Sam let go of Nicky who took longer than he wanted to pull away, dropping his head and stalking towards the woman, shoulders up to his ears. Sam followed a few feet away.

"Stay safe, huh?" he called out, just before Nicky rounded the corner with the woman.

Nicky scoffed. "I always try."

○ ○ ○

It was intermission of the drama performance and Nicky was livid.

"I hate that it's good!" he cried, drawing too much attention to him as he furiously shoved a cookie into his mouth, talking around it, "I hate that it's good! Like the script got better? And the actors actually know what they're doing, and this kid! This kid, I mean, that's just not fair, he's so much better than how I was, and I had to pretend to stay alive, can you believe this?"

Sam just sipped his fruit punch, watching Nicky over the edge of the cup, raising his eyebrows and closing his eyes in certain places to let the man know he was listening, acknowledging what he was saying and agreeing with his points.

When he finally finished drinking, he spoke, interrupting Nicky's continuous rant, "I agree that this is so much better than you remember. Normally, I would say that you're probably remembering it worse than it was, but I watched you in that show three times, and it was worse each time."

Nicky groaned loudly, shaking his head. "When we're done here, I want to leave, I don't wanna look at anyone or talk to anyone, I swear to God, I can't do it."

"What about Jason?" Sam asked, the two heading back inside to find their seats again, everyone else still outside.

Nicky paused, thinking for a moment. "Fine, we'll go see Jason, then we're leaving."

Sam laughed, falling into his seat, looking at the same sets they had used an entire decade before. "You having fun, though?"

Nicky smiled, turning to look at him, and there was just something that made it so he couldn't look away just yet, continuing to smile long after he probably should have stopped. "Yeah. I am having fun. I had fun."

Sam smiled back before turning to look at everyone filing back into the room. He then reached out to pat Nicky's knee, turning back to nod at him. "I'm glad."

As the lights dimmed and the curtains pulled, Nick reached out and took Sam's hand, finally deciding that, despite it being ten years, he should probably finally say it.

"Thanks, Sam."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I can't remember how many chapters I've ended with a thank you, especially in this story, but I guess there are just a lot of things to be thankful for, and this seemed timely considering the circumstances Nicky is referring to (both the date and the saving from ten years ago) and also I had no idea what to title this, so I went with something similar to Chapter 19 of Lonely Hearts, 'cause we gotta call back to our roots.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!