NEEDLESS TO SAY, NICKY WAS STILL NOT DOING SO GREAT A WEEK AFTER VISITING HIS PARENTS. His work ethic had basically plummeted and it took every fiber of his being to push himself out of bed to help others do the same, and he had dragged on for so long on his designs for Reed that the man tried to take it away to force him to rest, and Nicky couldn't even find it within himself to argue at that point.

He had gone to visit his parents a few days before, but it was purely to tell them that he wouldn't be making an effort unless they actually went out to get jobs. He was met with resistance, but his mother, for once, didn't yell at him during part of her explanation. She yelled for most of it, but for three beautiful sentences, she spoke in a regular voice.

So there was some progress being made, but that didn't really help him in the slightest.

He groaned as he heard a knock on his door, and the person on the other end must have taken that as permission to come in, as it was being opened seconds later, revealing the concerned face of Sam Wilson.

"Did Rhett call you?" Nicky sighed, his head pressed against his pillow.

Sam nodded. "You shut him out again, so he figured that he'd get some outside help."

Nicky snorted softly; that was what Rhett used to do when Terran was still around, believing that the other man would get through to Nicky better. It was true, but Rhett didn't give himself enough credit; Nicky would open up to him as easily as he opened up to Terran, but only if he wanted to; he didn't want to.

But with Sam, Rhett knew what he was doing. He knew that Nicky wasn't as comfortable enough with Sam to act the way he usually did, moping and being difficult, because unless he was in enough emotional distress to not care, he cared a fair bit.

With a sigh, Sam sat down, the bed sagging against his weight. Bracing his hands against the edge, he turned to look at Nicky, raising an eyebrow. "What's going on, princess?"

Nicky sighed heavily, and shrugged, his head turned towards the wall and his cheek pressed against his pillow. He figured he looked rather terrible, but he couldn't find it within himself to care much.

It's gotten to the point where he couldn't care less of what Sam thought of him.

That shocked him into reality, for just a brief moment, and he immediately moved into a sitting position, his eyes wide and unfocused. He had been thinking about Sam for the better part of the ten years since high school, so to say that he no didn't care any more was a wake up call as to just how awful he felt.

Sam must have noticed the realization, because he spoke, "We need to get you out of here. I haven't seen you smile in so long."

Nicky made a whining sound in the back of his throat, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Sam's arm, the older man rolling his eyes, reaching over and patting his head. Nicky mumbled against his arm, his eyes closed, "You didn't see me smile all of high school, it's not that big of a change."

Sam scoffed. "High school was years ago, I barely remember half of my training at the facility." After a moment, he added, "With the updated wings Tony made for me."

"Oh my God, I told him about the wings, and he flipped his shit," Nicky started, raising his head, "He was so shocked, and then it started to make more sense to him when he remembered that the wings I had made for Diana weren't updated the way yours are now."

"Yeah, again, why did you give her my wings?" Sam demanded, crossing his arms.

"Because I made her some stuff and went overboard, because I was really missing you since you were on the run, so I made the wings to feel better, and I use her dimensions for fill-ins nowadays and just move everything to scale later on," he babbled, waving his hands to dismiss the topic as soon as he was finished, "It's so much easier to actually be able to make stuff that people can use on their person because I was always limited to just handheld devices and whatever because I was a child and also had to hide stuff from my parents."

Sam paused for a moment, clearly trying to piece together what he had just been told, finally settling on, "Why did you never try to pursue engineering or something like what Tony did? You were almost equal to him, though he just graduated college fifteen, and you graduated high school at sixteen."

Nicky shrugged. "'Cause I didn't want to be told how to do it," he tried, honestly wondering for himself, "I was just so dead set on being a psychologist, I didn't really figure that I wanted to make this hobby of mine a legitimate career. I had an entire group of people actually take me in for the sole reason that I was really good at what I did for a hobby, but it was more of a side project than what I wanted to devote my life to. I'd rather say I helped people than that I made things for people."

"You could help people through the things you make," Sam pointed out, "That's kind of what you do, right?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, but it just didn't seem like the kind of thing I wanted to go for in terms of my entire life. Besides, I only started really designing stuff for people when I was asked, and Terran had found me all those connections, so I wasn't really seeking it out."

"But you do enjoy it?" Sam pressed, and Nicky wondered why he was so fixated on it, but nodded.

"Yeah, I love it. It's fun. Just wasn't what I was planning on doing with my life," Nicky said, adjusting his position on the bed so Sam could also move, the man pulling his legs onto the covers.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "So you were planning to listen to people talk about their problems for a living? You enjoy that?"

Nicky frowned; he tended to get this question a lot, and coming from Sam, who had gone on to counsel veterans with PTSD, he was more than confused. "It's not as if I enjoy hearing how awful they feel, I wouldn't say that I enjoy it. But I get gratification from knowing that I'm helping people."

Sam nodded slowly, thinking. "So you get enjoyment out of knowing that you're helping people?"

Nicky shrugged, nodding. "Yeah. I mean, I guess it wasn't relevant, but I had actually planned on being a psychologist for the FBI or, actually when Terran told me, for S.H.I.E.L.D. Maybe even the Avengers, I was actually planning on maybe doing that. I had, you know, planned on helping the people who help everyone else, to make sure that they would be fit enough to. It fit with the whole idea of being a hero of heroes, which Terran didn't really call us since we never had a name, but I tacked it on."

Sam looked clearly surprised. "Oh. So what made you start helping the ordinary people?"

Nicky smiled, thinking. "I just," he shrugged, "I don't know. When all those fell through I realized that there are enough people around here that need my help, and I figure I can help these ordinary people with my work, and the heroes with my tech. I have reach everywhere, actually, I'm actually counseling Johnny, there's talk of me maybe going over to Xavier's to help there. I'm making my difference."

"So it makes you happy to help people," Sam finished, and Nicky nodded, wondering why the man was asking.

After saying as much, Sam shrugged, replying, "I think you worry more about what makes other people happy than what makes you happy. So. What makes you happy?"

Nicky paused, his mind spinning and chest constricting as he genuinely tried to think of what made him happy. Many things made him happy. He was given so many opportunities and people that made him happy, yet he couldn't come up with a single thing to say.

He opened his mouth to give one of the first answers that came to mind, but Sam stopped him to add, "Something that isn't revolving around someone else. I mean, Rhett can make you happy, but you can't say making Rhett happy as one of them. It's gotta be about you first off."

Nicky closed his mouth, giving Sam a pained look, but the man didn't let up, instead just shrugging, as if to say, 'this is good for you, whether you like it or not.' Pouting, he continued to think. Helping people did make him happy, and he was sure Sam would accept that answer.

But he soon came to realize that he wasn't sure.

"I don't—" he sighed, rubbing his mouth, "I don't know, okay? I don't know anything about myself, I don't know what makes me happy, I don't know anything about what really matters. I know how people's brains work, but I don't know about mine. I don't know."

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile. "Then let's go find out."

º º º

Nicky was still at work, but Sam's instructions still reverberated in his head. The rest of that previous afternoon had been spent trying to come up with things that made Nicky happy, things that he chose for himself, not things that were chosen for him. Of course, he could have been introduced to things by other people, but they had to make him happy, not other people happy.

"I get happy when other people are happy, I like sharing what I have," Nicky tried to argue, frustrated by the strict guidelines Sam had set up for him.

"That's fine if you wanna share, and it's great that you get happy when other people are happy, but if you can't name one thing that makes you happy that doesn't revolve entirely around the happiness of someone else first, then that's not really sharing, is it?" Sam replied, and Nicky couldn't really find any way to go against it.

So far, all he knew was that he enjoyed making things. Not necessarily designing for other people, but the act of designing itself, as well as building them, he loved to do that. That made him happy. Of course, he tended to make them for other people, but there was some nuance.

He also enjoyed helping people, which had already been established, but he needed to look beyond. He needed to think about what made him happy, not because it made other people happy or because what he did would make other people happy, but because it made him happy.

It was a complicated nuance that he didn't like thinking about at work.

Yet there he was, thinking about it just as Tony Stark stepped into his office. The man had been seeing him frequently each week to discuss everything in his life, everything from his past, and to just talk. That was something Nicky wished he could do more with more of his patients, he just wanted to let them talk, because even if they didn't really get anywhere with it that day, it usually helped.

It was also incredibly entertaining to have Tony Stark as his friend, it just was.

"Nicholas, you won't believe what just happened today."

Nicky grinned as he raised his head, watching as Tony collapsed dramatically into the chair across from him, his sunglasses still perched on his nose. He had seen a lot of Tony the past few months, and he would openly admit that what made him happiest was seeing the man happy. That wasn't exactly the criteria Sam was looking for, but it was the truth, Nicky loved seeing Tony genuinely happy, and he was starting to see more and more of it as time progressed.

So Tony made him happy.

After their session was over, Nicky was finished for the day, as Tony was one of his only patients who saw him regularly, most others having separate therapists that they saw more frequently. So he decided to make his way over to Manhattan, figuring that he could find something that made him happy there.

Of course, the first thing he realized that he had completely forgotten, was that he loved musicals.

Most people didn't know it about him because he rarely ever played music or talked about them, but he always did love musicals. He performed in show choir and worked tech for drama, so he had been exposed to them in high school, not to mention Terran's intense love for them as well.

He had been introduced to them by Terran, but he loved them all on his own.

So he added that to his list, figuring that he'd just continue to walk around until he came up with something else. He decided to just lump Tony into an entire point that his friends made him happy. That was kind of a given, but considering himself, he felt it necessary.

As he continued to walk, he found himself just watching the people, eyes drawn to the interactions between couples and families, children and their parents, teenagers running about without any supervision of their own, looking more free than people would ever see them.

He loved people watching. He wasn't sure if it made him happy, as he felt more intrusive than anything while doing it, but he did find enjoyment in trying to understand them in the few moments that he was able to see them. It was something he used to do when he was younger, and it always made him happy when he did.

So he added that to his list.

By the time he made it back to the loft, he had compiled a pretty long list about things that made him happy. He had long since given up on following Sam's criteria, figuring that the man would just sift through it once he gave it to him.

When he returned home, he was surprised to find Sam waiting for him, lounging at the dining table while Steve was cooking in the kitchen, Rhett hovering next to him.

He paused in the doorway, just for a moment, staring at the scene in front of him. This. This made him happy. If he had to choose just one thing on his list that not only made him happy, but filled him with unspeakable joy, it was this scene. These people. This life.

"Hey, princess," Sam greeted, and it wasn't his usual loud greeting, it was soft and warm, welcoming Nicky home.

"Hey," he breathed, closing the door and tugging off his jacket and scarf, pulling out his phone, "I, uh, I made a list."

Sam sat up, glancing over to Steve and Rhett who looked over, intrigued by his statement. "Okay. You wanna go over it here or in your room?"

Nicky glanced over to Rhett who was looking at him in silent question, and he shrugged, looking over to Sam. "We can go over it here."

He moved to sit across from Sam, which meant he could see that bright smile that crept onto Rhett's face as he moved to lean against his side of the kitchen counter, listening in on the conversation, Steve listening in as well.

"So I know you said that I was supposed to find all the things that made me happy that weren't revolving around other people, but the thing is, people make me happy," Nicky said in a rush, not giving Sam any time to speak.

"The people around me make me happy, even people that I don't know, they just make me happy," he gushed, moving around in his seat as Sam just nodded for him to continue, "And a lot of the things that made me happy were things people showed me, but I love them because I love them, not because they did. Maybe I did at first, but they're my own now, so I think they still count.

"And there's the basics, I love helping people, I love making and designing the tech that I do, and I just—there are so many things that make me happy, you know? And the more I think about it, the more I realize that while there isn't really anything about myself that's my own, there aren't a lot of things that make me happy that aren't because they make me in particular happy.

"I mean, Rhett loves popcorn and so do I, but I don't love popcorn because of Rhett. I'll admit, I liked musicals because Terran loved musicals, but I still like them even if I don't think of Terran, which...is very rare, but you get my point!"

He took a deep breath, finally finished, and looked over at Sam expectantly, and the man was just giving him a small, almost amused smile.

After a few moments, the man finally broke the silence, "I'm proud of you. You actually figured it out."

Nicky blinked. "Excuse me?" Rhett snickered somewhere behind him and he just shushed him.

Sam laughed. "Look, I just wanted you to actually think about how you felt, it wasn't like I knew. 'Cause from the looks of it, your life revolves around other people, you said it yourself, you don't know anything about you, you think you're just made up of bits and pieces of everyone around you and you need someone to explain something about themselves for you to realize that it also applies to you. I just wanted to see if that was the same thing for things that make you happy."

Nicky opened and closed his mouth. "Well, is it?"

Sam shrugged. "I think so."

Nicky groaned loudly. "Are you kidding me—"

"But," Sam continued, interrupting him, "I gotta say, it's not really as unhealthy as we thought it was. 'Cause you're thinking about yourself when it makes you happy. I mean, you're thinking about other people, but you're saying 'my friends make me happy' and 'Terran likes this and I also like it,' not 'this makes Terran happy so it makes me happy,' there's a little difference."

"I don't see it," Rhett called out, and Steve sighed long-sufferingly at him.

Nicky nodded. "Yeah, I-I don't really see it either. And I'm a psychologist, so I don't..." he shrugged, trailing off.

Sam rolled his eyes. "You don't notice it until it all starts to pile up. There could be a recurring theme where it's always that you're not the one who's happy, it's someone else, and you just decide that that's enough."

Nicky rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry, this is really confusing."

Sam waved his hand. "Then let's just scrap that, 'cause you don't need to understand it, just live it out, and you're already doing that so that's great."

He cleared his throat. "What makes you happy?"

"Helping people," Nicky replied immediately.

He smiled. "Then keep doing that. What makes you happy?"

"Rhett," he shot off, smiling when he heard the man in question gasp softly.

Sam grinned, glancing over at Rhett. "Then keep him around. What makes you happy?"

It went on like that, Nicky listing off everything that made him happy, going through each individual person, each individual habit, each individual little thing that he had searched for in an attempt to figure out what made him happy, because there were so many things that made him happy.

He wasn't a happy man, and he wasn't always happy, but it was nice to know that there were many things that made him feel happy. Happy enough.

"What makes you happy?" Sam asked, for the final time.

Nicky paused for a brief moment. "You."

A smile played on Sam's lips and the man laughed softly, glancing down at his hands, and he made no move to speak, so Nicky spoke instead.

"Can I keep you around?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, wearing an almost smug smile, glad to finally have the upper hand for once.

Sam laughed, shaking his head, sparing him a glance. "I make you happy?"

Nicky nodded, surprised by how serious he truly was. "Yeah. You really do."

Sam looked surprised, glancing over to Rhett and Steve before turning his attention back to Nicky, just giving him a warm, pleased smile.

"Then I'll stay forever."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Can you believe that this chapter confused even me? Because like this was supposed to be Nicky figuring out what made him happy, which he did, but it was blended with that weird thing where he tries to figure out himself and who he is, and also about what is healthy and unhealthy when it comes to him, and it was just super confusing, but I think that it makes sense considering that Nicky really doesn't know anything about himself and he's still learning and it's confusing, but he's learning and sometimes, like Sam said, he doesn't need to understand if he's already living it, so we're just gonna roll with it? I don't know.

So yeah!

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!