1 | Almost Happy ▷ Sam Wilson | ✓

38 - ALREADY FORGIVEN

IT WAS THE NEXT DAY, AND NICKY WAS EXPECTED TO SLEEP THROUGH ALL OF IT. Terran had slept on the couch that night, Sam and Steve having gone to their own apartments since the tension was too high for them to stay—and Sam never slept over anyways—but the blond had gone into the younger man's room in the morning, pried him away from his work, and forced him to take some sleeping pills, which had taken a lot of coercing and arguing.

By the time he had left Nicky's room, sure that the younger man was out cold, Sam and Steve had returned and were quietly talking with Rhett, all of them speaking in a hushed kind of seriousness that made Terran wince.

"Hey," he tried, though his attempt at lightening the mood fell flat immediately, not quite hitting the needed tone.

"Hey," Sam greeted, "He okay?"

Terran nodded. "He didn't get any sleep, so he's gonna sleep all day."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How'd you get him to do that?"

Terran shrugged. "Sleeping pills. He's got this fear of overdosing on them, that's why I had to get some myself. Melatonin bottle's still pretty full, Rhett."

The other blond cursed, shaking his head. "I thought I could trust him to take them himself."

"He's a workaholic, you know that," Terran said, but he was treading on incredibly thin ice, especially under the scrutinizing gaze of Sam.

Rhett looked up from where his head was bent to give Terran a small smile. "We missed you. That was it. No need to act all scared, you didn't do anything wrong."

Sam raised an eyebrow, glancing at him, then Steve, then Terran. "What's with you blonds and being cool with these people who just came back into your lives, like that, we're just supposed to be cool?"

Terran glanced over at him. "I don't expect any of you to be cool, especially not you."

Sam shrugged. "I'm fine with you, actually."

Terran scoffed. "Seriously?"

Sam shrugged, motioning for Steve to speak, which the younger man did happily. "From what I remember of you, Terran, and from what you've caught us up on, you've never done anything that wasn't in the best interest of you and the people you care about. Why wouldn't we be fine with you?"

Terran gave him a bright smile. "I still want a date, man, I still can't believe you exist."

Rhett frowned at him. "You're five years too late. Or, uh, like five months, more like."

Terran snapped, sighing in faux disappointment. "Darn. What a bummer, the only thing that I regret not being here for."

Rhett gave a short laugh, and Terran counted that as a win. He and Rhett had had a shaky start when they first met, but he had found himself growing incredibly fond of the blond, especially when he saw how much Nicky liked him; he had been conflicted when they moved out, because he wanted them to stay, but he knew that Rhett brought with him a danger that he couldn't risk having around all the other members of the complex. He had to think of them too.

That was all he ever did. He only ever thought of his family, but all he ended up doing was hurting them.

"I gotta get to work," Sam said, apologetically detaching himself from the conversation, promising to be back later that night to make dinner, leaving with a quick wave of his hand.

Terran watched him go, before turning back to Rhett who nodded, admitting that he had to do the same, already cursing himself for dawdling so long, sure that he was going to be late. Terran was surprised to find that it was much earlier than he had thought, though he couldn't be too shocked; just because he had been living on Clint's farm didn't mean that he wasn't actively trying to make sure people weren't trying to kill him.