THERE WERE MANY TIMES WHERE IT MADE PERFECT SENSE THAT NICKY'S CAREER INVOLVED HELPING PEOPLE. Growing up, not many people had helped him, certainly not his family, and it came as a huge surprise to the people who did that he was so willing to help everyone else. If anything, it made sense that he would be bitter and selfish and, for the longest time, he was, but somethings changed and someone changed him, and it was easy to say he was changed for the better.

So it made sense that he wanted to find that person. No one could blame him for wanting to find the one person who truly understood and truly helped him. No one could blame him for wanting Terran back.

"So how has the 'seeing your ex at church every weekend even after all she had done to you' thing been doing?" Nicky asked lamely, smiling weakly at Richard who was back in the chair across from him, grinning at the question.

"It's going as well as it always is," Richard replied, shrugging and leaning back in his seat, "Though, I mean, there's some stress at work that's been going on, and I was just invited by her parents to a little party they're having, so that's there too..."

Nicky listened intently as Richard began to talk about his work and about the party, writing down quick little notes about what he had talked about, but also, and most importantly, the little things he talked about that recalled to things that seemed to have had a great effect on him and how he had ended up in this position. While the man had come to him just to be able to talk, Nicky could see there were just some things that were affecting him and he wanted to make sure they could find a time to address them later on.

"What do you write there anyways?" Richard asked, because he was much more talkative and open than most of his other patients, catching Nicky off guard with his inquiry. It wasn't suspicious or demanding by any means, rather it was as if someone was just asking him what book he was reading.

"Notes about the session," he explained, tapping the pen against his notepad, standing up to walk him out, "People you mentioned, dates, things like that. If you had come here because you had anxiety or depression, say, I would write down symptoms. It all depends, but that's the basics."

"Okay," Richard nodded, walking out the door Nicky opened and walking down the hall, motioning towards the sticky note in his hands with the date for his next appointment, "See you later."

Nicky walked back towards the room after having walked halfway down with Richard, closing he door behind him and glancing towards the clock. He had half an hour before his next appointment was to begin, his standard.

He spent fifteen minutes finishing up his notes, making sense of his scribbles and essentially making sure that all his notes would be understandable for later on when he worked on his patient files.

The second half of his fifteen minutes were spent decompressing, shaking off the weight of whatever session he had just had and making sure he was going to be a blank slate and mentally well for whoever was going to walk through the door and request his aid.

He had learned a meditation to help himself decompress and generally help himself remember things and keep focused, transcendental meditation. It had cost him a fair amount of money to learn it, having to go to a person who taught him the fundamentals, explained to him the psychology, and then gave him his mantra and had follow up sessions to make sure he knew what he was doing, but it all paid off in the end, so he figured he might as well use it whenever needed, and just for health.

He finished his meditation just as the time began, but he didn't hear the door to the building open just yet. Figuring she would be late, he decided to just stand and do a power pose, throwing his legs shoulder width apart and his arms at a V above his head. Rhett had showed him a video on power poses after the man had completely failed his first back-to-school night talk in front of parents, making sure neither of them ever publicly humiliated themselves due to nerves ever again.

He heard the door to the building open, but held the pose, only falling out of it when he heard the knock on his door, calling out for his next appointment to come in.

He smiled warmly as a woman with dark hair and glasses stepped inside, looking very flustered and very apologetic, adjusting the skirt of her maxi dress and rambling about traffic and work and being so sorry that she had kept him waiting.

"It's okay, May, I understand," he interrupted, waving off her apologies, "I'm just glad you made it here safe. How have you been?"

May Parker took a deep breath and sat down in the chair across from him, rolling her shoulders. "I need you to keep a secret for me, because honestly, I don't know who else I can trust, but you've been so kind to me and Peter, I think I can trust you."

"Does it have anything to do with Peter and a little secret of his?" Nicky asked, trying to fight back the sly grin and he settled into his own seat, pen at the ready against the new sheet of paper.

She scoffed, staring at him incredulously. "You mean that he's Spider-Man and I promised him I'd be okay with it? He told you first?"

Nicky smiled. "Why told you tell me what you have to say, then I'll tell you a story."

º º º

Nicky was walking out of the grocery store when he saw him.

He had just gone to pick up some food that wasn't popcorn, steak, or expired cereal, leaving with way too much pasta, on-sale pumpkin pie, and Girl Scout Cookies that were being sold at the front of the building.

He was walking home, only a few blocks away, when he spotted him.

His hair was the same blond and the same styled cut that always looked presentable, but never too precocious, and he had a leather jacket thrown over the same shoulders that carried the weight of so much and his walk was just the same and before Nicky knew it, he was dropping his bags and racing towards him.

"Terran!" he called out, words punched out of him in desperation, a hand reaching out to grab the shoulder, an he honestly should have known better.

Should have known better than to grab an unsuspecting man on the streets of Brooklyn, known better than to think it was Terran when all it was was an angry, harassed blond who shoved him back in defensive fear, causing him to hit his head with no one to help him up.

Should have known better than to leave his bags unattended on the sidewalk, now missing and most definitely stolen.

Hurt and frustrated and just plain angry, he punched the side of a building, wrecking his hands and gritting his teeth against the pain, the tears welling up in his eyes finding more reason to pour.

The pain in his hand was nothing to the pain in his heart.

º º º

Sam hadn't fared any better. That was what Nicky deduced as he raced up the flights of stairs to the man's apartment, fumbling with the keys Steve had thrown at him after the man burst into the apartment, shoving Nicky into Sam's car, which should have been with its owner, not him.

Sam had been getting coffee when he saw him.

Just finished with work and having decided to take the subway then walk, he went to the coffee shop by his apartment, happily waiting towards the side for his order to be called out. He had just been looking out the window when he caught a flash of color and suddenly he was standing there, just walking down the street and laughing like it wasn't anyone's business that he was still alive.

But a moment and a half blink later, it wasn't him, but someone who had the same hair and same walk and suddenly Sam didn't want his coffee anymore.

Nicky tried not to think of how Steve had known to call him, what had happened that made him so sure that Nicky needed to be there, that he knew what to do. Truth be told, Nicky was afraid; he wasn't sure if he knew what to do.

But then he remembered that he had been trained for this, and he had to do it, if only to make sure no one else got hurt trying to.

He paused in front of the door, unsure of what to do. His first instinct was to let it stay locked, as that was what he would be doing at the end of it, but he had to make sure that Sam was going to eat and drink water, so he just had to go in for that.

So, carefully, he opened the door and stepped inside, careful not to make any noise, looking around at the apartment.

It wasn't overly large, but there was a living space connected to a kitchen and dining area and a long hallway leading directly towards the closed door that Nicky could only assume was Sam's room.

He made his way towards the kitchen, opening the pantry and the fridge, glad to find that there was still food to work with, but frowned at the low rations. He reminded himself to buy groceries for the man, as he also had to buy them for himself as well.

Preparing just a simple sandwich and a grabbing a two water bottles from the fridge, he made his way towards the closed door. He just wanted to set it down outside and not disturb him, knowing that it might do more harm than good to open the door, but he had to make sure that the man would actually find it, and he wasn't sure if Sam would even get up from his bed.

So, inwardly cursing himself, he opened the door, glad that it didn't creak, and peered inside, finding Sam asleep on his back, perfectly still. A soldier, Nicky wasn't sure how easily he would wake up, so he just moved as quickly as he could, placing the sandwich and water on the nightstand, opening the bottles in advance so Sam wouldn't have to use much energy.

Grabbing the man's phone, he found a few texts from the man's boss, asking him where he was. Typing quickly, Nicky informed her that Sam needed to stay home for mental health reasons and provided his own number so he could explain further.

Texting Sam's siblings, who were also wondering why he had stopped responding, giving them the same information and number, he took the phone out of the room and placed it in the kitchen, making sure it was on silent.

Then he left the apartment, closing the door and locking it just as he received three different phone calls, each from the three people he had texted.

"I'm putting everyone on a conference call and I will explain everything," he said, walking out of the building, "Sam just needs a few days..."

º º º

The pattern held for a full week, Nicky glad that Sam was always asleep whenever he showed up, always checking the phone in case he received other messages, surprised to find that the man was in relatively close contact with Tony. He had made a point to tell the man during one of their sessions that Sam wasn't near his phone at the moment.

"Is he okay?" Tony had asked, veering away from the topic they had started with as he sat forward in his seat in Nicky's office.

"He will be," Nicky said, and he knew that didn't help the situation at all, but Tony wasn't there to discuss Sam, so Nicky wasn't going to let him press the issue.

The entire week was filled with a moping Steve who hung around the loft, but could scarcely give a smile, even to Rhett, who just held him close and told him that it was okay if he didn't always know what to do, and that Nicky knew what he was doing.

"This happens sometimes," Steve had explained to him one late night when Nicky had been able to rip himself out of a nightmare without waking up Rhett, heading to the kitchen to find Steve sketching at the table, "Sometimes he'll just see something and it'll just—it happens to me too, so why can't I do anything to help him?"

Nicky had held his hand then, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Because no one told you how. No one told you how, you don't know how, and there's nothing wrong with not being able to do everything, Steve."

"What kind of a friend am I if I don't know how to help him?" Steve whispered, and Nicky shook his head, wishing he wasn't smiling.

"You're his friend, not his therapist," he whispered, "You help when you can, because friends look out for each other, but you're not there to carry his weight, just as he's not there to carry yours. If you don't know how to help, you just make sure he knows you're still with him."

Steve scoffed. "Easier said than done."

Nicky nodded. "Yeah. I know. Trust me, I'm a professional."

Steve had laughed, and it was slightly pained, but it was a laugh, and Nicky decided that it was enough to be considered a win, so he went to make the two of them some hot chocolate, as he heard Rhett walking out of his room, confused and dazed from sleep.

It was Sunday again and Nicky was becoming a regular sight to the neighbors, some even nodding towards him in greeting as he pulled out the key to Sam's apartment with much less fumbling than the first few days.

As he stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was the sound of the shower running.

He glanced towards the kitchen, surprised to find a pot of coffee in the coffee maker and the cell phone gone, but it was probably in the bathroom on account of the quiet crooning of Marvin Gaye from behind a closed door.

He was holding another bag of groceries in his hands, so he figured he would just put everything in the pantry and the fridge, then leave before Sam came out, letting him stay alone.

What he didn't count on, however, was for Sam to hear him enter the room and rush to finish up, jumping out of the bathroom, water seeping through his clothes and sticking them to his body, dripping onto the carpet as he silently made his way to the kitchen, scaring Nicky half to death.

"I-I was just—" the younger man tried to explain, trailing off when he saw that, while Sam wasn't smiling, he didn't seem upset. He just seemed tired.

"Thank you," he coughed, reaching out and grabbing two mugs, pouring a good amount of coffee into each.

Nicky blinked, shrugging minutely. "Don't have to thank me."

"I really do," Sam said, raising his head, his tone pressing and his voice raised, only to quiet a moment later, "I don't—I mean, I'm usually better."

Nicky reached over and took the proffered cup of coffee, never once taking his eyes off Sam. "You've seen a lot, Sam. Just because it doesn't eat you up every second doesn't mean it's not there."

Sam sighed, tilting his head back and leaning against the counter. "I know that. You know that I know damn well that I'm allowed to feel like this, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like hell when I do."

Nicky glanced down into his mug, feeling very small and very young, a stranger in a home of a man who might as well be a stranger to him. Broken ice could freeze over again, after all.

Sam sighed again, and took a sip of his coffee. "Thank you, though, for doing that."

"How'd you know it was me?" Nicky asked, "Or did you just figure it out now because you caught me here?"

Sam laughed softly, adjusting the mug in his hands. "I wasn't always asleep. For a few reasons."

Nicky set the mug onto the counter and took a few steps forward, holding out his arms. Sam simply raised an eyebrow, glancing to the side. "What're you doing, man?"

"I'm going to give you a hug, are you okay with that?" Nicky asked, raising his own eyebrows, and he had to wonder if his power poses were giving him more confidence than he initially thought, he wasn't even phased by his own question.

Sam just rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee and mumbling around the edge. "Do what you want."

Nicky smiled and wrapped his arms around Sam, hugging him tightly, the man raising his arms to keep from spilling his coffee. At first, Sam just stood there, sipping his coffee and being generally unamused with the whole experience.

But after a few moments, he set his mug down and wrapped his arms around Nicky, because the man was warm and he could drop his head comfortably on the crook on his neck, and he just needed someone to hold him and Nicky was right there.

"I miss him," Sam whispered, and Nicky gripped him tighter, shushing him softly, and Sam didn't say anything else, because he had worked through this for a week, he wasn't going to spiral down that hole if he could help it.

"It'll get easier," Nicky whispered, wishing he could believe it himself.

Sam sighed, raising his head and pressing his nose against Nicky's temple, eyes still closed. "You wanna just watch TV for a bit? 'Cause I'm feeling some trashy reality TV right about now."

Nicky laughed, nodding. "Sounds like a plan."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm not necessarily proud, but I'm not disappointed in it either, I like the way it all worked together, and I'm content with the ending, so this is pretty alright.

Pain™ but understandable pain as Nicky has severe abandonment issues and Sam went on two tours in his lifetime and watched his best friend die and probably many others, they're both suffering and this is understandable, but they're going to push through.

Transcendental Meditation is a real thing that I do, it's all about being aware and it's really just centered around breathing and repetition, it's hard to explain, but it's super simple to do, anyone can learn it once they're taught by someone qualified, and it's just the best.

Power poses are also a thing, and there is a TEDtalk about them that ya'll should check out because they're very helpful and I like to do them before I perform because I feel much more confident (like a straight cis white man) so you know that it's pretty lit.