1 | Almost Happy ▷ Sam Wilson | ✓

26 - NO REST FOR THE LONGING

"AS SOMEONE WHO ALSO HAS A PHD IN SOMETHING THAT ISN'T CONVENTIONAL MEDICINE AND ALSO MOONLIGHTS AS A WEAPONS DESIGNER ASIDE FROM HIS DAY JOB, YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO ME MORE."

Nicky rolled his eyes as he stared at the disapproving face of Hank McCoy on the other side of his main computer screen, his chin propped up onto his hand.

"When was the last time you actually went to bed, not waking up in the pathetic hours of dark, and slept before sunrise?" the older man demanded, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

Nicky raised his eyes up towards the ceiling, genuinely wondering for himself, but coming up empty. "How disappointed will you be if I told you I can't remember?"

Hank blinked. "How is this affecting your ability to do your day job?"

Nicky stifled a yawn. "Okay, I've gotten way better at this. Before, I threw a coffee mug thinking it would land onto a table, then yelled at the patient because I thought she was a football player. Nowadays, I catch myself."

Hank sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Go to sleep. Look, I haven't found anything new, the trace went cold and I couldn't pinpoint it."

"Maybe if I get into S.H.I.E.L.D. files I can find out something," he offered, and Hank snorted.

"And get branded a war criminal and terrorist, get sent away? And probably send all those goons after us and the Four? Would you do that to us?" the man demanded, starting out scathing, but ending genuinely afraid.

"Of course not," Nicky sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest, "But I just wanna know what you had found."

"They weren't coordinates that I can read," Hank sighed, picking up the well-read sheet of paper, "What do you think?"

"Space?" the younger man offered.

"What is it with you and space?" Hank scoffed.

"What is it with you disregarding the fact that the Four have literally gone into space and are friends with aliens, Johnny's dated, like, five," he countered, starting to rise in his seat, "You're a mutant, ask one of your mutant kids. Maybe it's a space or other dimension thing."

Hank pursed his lips. "You have a point."

Nicky brightened. "Really?"

The mutant paused for a moment. "Do people not say that often?"

The psychologist shrugged. "I mean, they do, but that's when I'm talking about, you know, brain stuff."

Hank raised an eyebrow. "But we also hired you to be a weapons designer. The Four did the same."

"Yeah, but you guys are just like 'hey, Nicky, you wanna build us a thing and we'll trust your judgement unless we have input' not 'wow, Nicky, you know how to be a hero,' but that's not really in my job description anyways so..." he rambled, trailing off as he remembered the complex motto.

Hank gave him a sympathetic smile. "Better to be alive than a hero."

Nicky shook his head. "We changed it. It's 'don't be a hero, be of use.' There's a deeper meaning, but it's basically that I'm gonna build weapons, but I won't use them, because I have no reason or capability to. It's a little different because the first meant we stay out of trouble, but the second means we make sure we stop the trouble, not cause any more."

Hank licked his lips. "You still say 'we.'"

Nicky sighed. "Of course I do. Because they're still out there, I know it. I-I think what you caught wasn't Terran, but them."