Chapter 6: Wasteland

Change my attempt, good intention. Should I? Could I? - Wasteland by 10 Years

Nick kept true to his word, and even though he spent the morning working, he spent the day with Sam. He sat at the bar while Nick got drinks for the few patrons that were there, keeping a running commentary on who's who and who did what. Apparently being a bartender was the occupation to have if you wanted to know everything about everyone.

Sam didn't say much and knew that he was boring company but he felt like crap and he knew he looked it. Nick didn't say anything about it and for that Sam was grateful even though he knew he was making it worse by constantly rubbing at his dry eyes.

"Oh, Nicolai," one of the women at the other end of the bar called. "Another one, pretty please."

"Are you sure you want another White Russian?" Nick asked her, even as he made her drink. Apparently he already knew the answer.

"Don't be such a spoiled sport." She called back. "You'll take all of the fun out of life."

"I wouldn't want to do that."

"Your name is Nicolai?" Sam asked, nibbling on a piece of bacon that Nick kept pushing at him, trying not to rub at his eyes but they burned.

"No." He set the drink in front of the woman who handed him money in return. "It's just Nick. Not Nicolai, not Nicholas, just Nick."

"Nicholas!" Another woman called with a giggle. "Like Saint Nicholas?" She laughed again. "If I sit on your lap will you give me a present?" At that she burst into hysterical laughter and was joined by the rest of the bar.

"Only good girls get presents, and you are not a good girl." Nick answered with a wink at Sam. The patrons contended to laugh.

Sam wondered about the wink. What it meant, if it meant anything at all. Why he had aimed it at him instead at the drunk woman who had asked in the first place. Maybe he was over thinking things, but he couldn't help it. If he wasn't thinking about Jess he was thinking about Nick and he wondered how both of them were going to make peace in his head.

He missed Jess like crazy, every minute away from her was a physical pain in his chest and his mind was constantly thinking about her, the good, bad, and the ugly of their relationship from the moment they had met. Nick was an entirely different kind of being. He didn't know him at all outside of some basics but he seemed to be on his mind all of the time as well. If he found a moment he wasn't thinking about Jess he was thinking about Nick, going over everything from the moment he had laid eyes on him. It wasn't the same thing he felt about Jess but he couldn't deny the fact that he felt something, something he could not explain, for the man. He wasn't sure how he felt about that but he couldn't deny it.

Sam watched Nick as he worked and he realized for the first time since Jess had died he felt anything close to happiness. It wasn't exactly happy but he didn't have any other word to describe it. All he knew was that he wasn't sad, and for him that was something huge. He liked Nick, he liked being around him. Something's you couldn't logic your way out of, not that he hadn't tried over the past few days. It just got him nowhere.

"And that's my shift." Nick said happily, walking around the bar as another man walked through the door. He had a heavy jaw and there was something about him that put Sam on edge. Nick walked around the bar and shook hands with the man.

"Veronica is cut off from the hard stuff." Nick told the man with a laugh. "Other than that, have a good shift, Alistair."

Alistair only nodded before making his way behind the bar. Sam felt a distinct drop in the liveliness of the bar. Apparently he was not the on one who felt something was off about Alistair.

"The night is young, Sammikins." Nick said, threading his arm through his as he pulled him off of the bar stool. "Lets go paint it red."

As soon as the door closed behind them Nick let go of Sam's arm, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, though he did not loose his smile. The sun was still high in the sky though Sam did not know the time thanks to leaving his phone at home.

"So, what do you want to do?" Sam asked as they walked down the street, seemingly aimlessly.

"Honestly, I spend all of my time working. It gives me something to do. I have no idea what to do." Nick said, looking at Sam in that penetrating way that he was sure was saved special for him, judging by the way he treated everyone at the bar.

"I don't get out much anymore, either." Sam said quietly, looking down at his feet as they walked.

"So, then what does a workaholic and a hermit do when they are forced outside?" Nick asked, smile firmly in place.

"Go back inside and hide from the sun?" Sam offered.

"See, now your just trying to get back to my place." Nick laughed. "I'm not that easy, you know. At least buy me dinner first."

"If I buy you dinner, isn't that kind of like paying you? Wouldn't that make you easy?" Sam asked and was rewarded by a very rich laugh from Nick.

"I guess you're right. That does make me easy. If I'm easy I'm at least going to be expensive." Nick said happily. Sam couldn't help it, it was contagious, he laughed.

"So, I guess we're going to an expensive dinner. What do you want to do in the meantime?" Sam asked, looking up and looking around at what there was to do in their small town.

"See, there's a reason I like you." Nick said, bumping his shoulder into Sam's arm.

"That doesn't answer the question." Sam pointed out.

"Hmmm," Nick was quiet for a long moment. He was probably thinking along the same line Sam was: there weren't many options in a town that small. Teenagers hung out in parking lots or at the local Wal-Mart but for the life of him didn't know what adults did to pass the time. "Would you think poorly of me if I asked you to take a walk with me?"

Sam smiled, he had never been asked to go on a walk before. He didn't know why that made him smile but it did. "Anywhere in particular?"

"No."

"Sounds good."

...

Sam wasn't sure how long they walked but he knew it was for a long time. They stopped twice at gas stations to grab something to drink. He had to admit it felt good being outside, getting fresh air and moving his body. He had spent fsr too long in his room. He forgot how good it felt to get out and be with somebody other than Dean.

As they walked, they talked. General things like what kinds of music they liked and the movies they watched and books they read. They talked about what Sam studied in school, and he liked Nick all the more for not asking questions like why he stopped going and when he would go back. They talked about everything amd nothing at the same time and Sam couldn't remember the last time that he had laughed so much.

He really liked Nick. He really did. He didn't like the thought of Jessica's death bringing something good into his life, but he couldn't stop the thought from surfacing.

Dean's voice penetrated his thoughts in a moment of silence between moments of laughter. "Jess would want you to be happy, Sammy. It would kill her to watch you do this to yourself."

Nick looked up at him, smiling at him and Sam wondered if it would make her happy knowing that this mysterious man that he had first seen at her funeral was the reason he was smiling in the first place. He didn't know the history between the two of him and he was not sure he wanted to know in fear that there was something he would tell him that would paint him in a different light than he was ready to acknowledge.

"So," Nick asked as they waited for a light to turn red. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Not a thing. Why? Do you have another idea as to how to spend the time?"

Nick just smiled and Sam took that for a yes.