When Nate was born, everything changed. Not at a fundamental level, but it was generally hard to really focus on something fundamentally. Knowing something in your mind didn't always mean you knew it in your heart.
And it wasn't a bad thing, not really, certainly not anything she could ever fault anyone for. Nate was beautiful and entertaining and frustrating just like his parents. It was more than natural that their attentions should shift. Even though Sammy knew, from the moment she'd learned Cam was pregnant, really, that things wouldn't be the same and Cam and Stark would have less time for frivolity and people other than the baby, she still wasn't quite prepared for the hole, the disconnect that now seemed to exist. Like any good mother, Nate was always at the forefront of her mind and hardly whole half hours could go by without a mention of his name.
Stark wasn't much different - in a lot of ways he was worse. He'd always wanted kids and, other than the sleep deprivation, he was riding high, happier than any of them had ever really seen him and more in love with Cam than ever. After everything he'd done, he deserved to be.
Julia and Lee were just getting into planning their wedding. Julia had scarcely taken a step through their apartment of late that wasn't a bit of a dance and nothing seemed to bring her down. Everything was beautiful - the day, her friends, her students, her co-workers on the show. Hell, the new paint job on the interior of the cruise boat was looking pretty stunning, too.
Or so she'd told Sammy after she'd been downtown to see.
And Lee. Lee was more endearing than ever. Possibly because Sammy could see how painfully happy he was making her best friend - from making a mess in the kitchen working on new recipes with her, to agreeing any clumsiness was likely due to how much more difficult it was to see little things from way up there, to the story of his mild terror at speaking with her father, to the book he'd picked up on the way over for her, to the shiny little ring on her finger (not too big, not too small, not too bright, not too dull).
So when Sammy felt lonely, or ignored, or bitter, or even, she'll admit, jealous about the wondrous things happening around her, she couldn't really feel anything further than guilt. The kind of guilt that made you feel like a piece of shit, if she was being honest.
It's this sort of moment that frequently brings her to the quiet pub a few blocks from Wilson's apartment. She wasn't sure why it was usually the place she chose, or why it was usually during the day (the brightness of days had a tendency of blinding her when she left), though she supposed it had something to do with being so close to him.
It seemed like they'd been on the mend for years. And maybe they had been, Sammy thinks with a swirl of the liquor in front of her, but they were in a good place. She knows that. But sometimes she thought about how she could've had a family started now, too, if she hadn't been afraid, if she'd been ready.
But she hadn't been.
And, honestly, even though there were things she would've done different, she and Wilson were better for it. Only, that didn't make her feel any less, well, left out.
She gives a groan and hunches further over her drink when she notices a familiar face coming through the door.
"Fancy finding you here, Officer," Johnny slips into the seat around the edge of the bar, waving to the bartender before pointing at Sammy's drink and asking for two.
"Johnny," she spares a glance around the nearly empty bar - only one person even seemed mildly interested in the offhanded title. She settles. "You gonna pay for all of them, then?" She rests her temple in her hand but looks toward him as he situates himself.
"I am, in fact, a gentleman, Sammy. I know those are hard to come by in your profession, but nonetheless, we do exist." Sammy snorts and finishes her first drink as the bartender leaves them their new glasses. "So what brings you down to the pub this delightful day?" She eyes him as he brings his glass to his lips.
"Better question, Gallagher, what brings you here?"
"A guy can't enjoy a drink in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday a few blocks from his buddy's place?"
"Were you at Wilson's?" Johnny seems to think about it for a moment before shaking his head no. "Were you on your way?" Again, no. "No, of course not, he's at work. So, no, you can't, then. Did Jules or Cam tell you I'd be here?"
"Why did you tell them and not me?" There's that look again - Johnny shakes his head and offers her his phone. "I haven't even seen anyone today and you can check my phone for proof that no conversation has transpired."
"Like I need to see all the freaky stuff you've got on your phone," Sammy mumbles, but starts to nose through his text messages anyway. She stops with a sigh when she comes to a group message with a photo from Cam that she's subtitled 'tuesday afternoon with the boys' in a sarcastic sort of way as Stark's asleep against the backboard of their bed with a sleeping Nate in his arms and Walt's head in his lap. In her mind's eye she can see the lazy smile Cam would've given before joining them.
And just above that's a photo from Julia - a selfie of her and Lee with faces displaying their great enthusiasm at finding some band that specialized in lindy music or something. She should probably know who they were - she probably does know who they are - but can't be bothered to come up with a name at the moment. She flips through the photos throughout that particular group message in an effort to find something else to look at, but they all seem to remind her that she's sitting here alone in a bar and all her friends are doing things with people they love.
"Seriously, what's got you down, babe?"
Well, maybe not all of her friends.
"Do you ever," she pauses, unsure how to phrase her question without sounding as horrible as she knows it will anyway, "Do you ever feel like you're just getting left behind?" There. That wasn't so bad.
"Jealous that everyone else is settling down and I'm not, you mean?" Damn it, Johnny. He looks down at his glass for a long moment.
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, other than the fact that in a few years you'll be spending more time than you already do with the Sandses, since we all know that Nate's gonna be grow up to be your best friend when he's between the ages of, like, four and seven."
"What are you trying to say, Samantha?"
"I'd punch you right now if I had the energy," she fires back at him. People didn't call her Samantha in New York. It was a fact. She was Sammy, or Iceman, or Officer Haldane-Jones or whatever random affectionate phrase her friends threw her way. Maybe it didn't actually bother her all that much, but now it stood that way on principal - she had to get upset about it.
"To answer your question, yes. Sometimes. Especially now that you've brought it up and reminded me that Luke's been doing alright for himself for a few months. I need to meet more women."
"Why are you so determined to be married before Luke, anyway? That's never made any sense to me. Jesus, he's two years older than you, that's a natural order of things, John, older people get married before younger people. But, anyway, even if you have an argument against that - " she can see that he does - "your best friend got married before you did and he's younger than you. I don't see you sulking at him when he's smiling at a stupid text message from his girl."
"That's hardly the same, Sammy, you know that - Stark's basically the same age I am, two months is like less than a fraction of a second in the grand scheme of things. You know as well as I do that Stark deserved someone like that anyway. Just like Julia and Lee deserve each other, and hell, maybe Luke and three-months-going-strong deserve each other, too."
Sometimes it blows Sammy's mind how quickly Johnny can turn banter into seriousness.
"Anyway, I thought you and Wilson were doing good? I mean, it's been years, darling, you've got to have forgiven each other for all that stupid shit around his deployment and the hurricane and all that."
"We are good. And thanks for reminding me of all the stupid shit." She glares back down at her drink as Johnny's glass hits the bar, empty. But the thought finally really hits her, and she lifts her head to tilt it toward him. "You do feel that, though?" She starts meekly, but he'll answer definitively.
"All that guilt at being envious? Yes, Sammy, I do. It sucks, but it's just where we're at now. I can't actually be mad at any of them for being happy. I'm not mad at them for being happy. Or I'm trying not to be. I'm also trying not to be mad at myself, because there's only so much I can do, you know?" He looks toward his fingers and watches them leave prints on the polished wood as drums a beat. "I mean, it comes down to this - I've known Stark for years but I can hardly remember a Stark without Cam. Julia and Lee are getting to be the same way. And you and Wilson are almost inseparable in my head, too. And one day, I'll be that way with one very lucky lady." Sammy can't help but laugh. He smiles, but tacks on, seriously, "You don't need to be married with kids to be happy and loved, you know."
"Yeah," she tips her glass back to finish hers, too. "Yeah. I know. It's just hard sometimes."
"Every day. Until one day, it's not." Johnny stands to dig his wallet from his pocket and leave some bills on the bar.
"Fuck me for being friends with a writer." She says once she's watched him pull his coat back on. She does the same as his lips split into a wide grin.
"Let's go see what all our favorite lovesick morons are up to." Sammy slips on her sunglasses as they exit the pub and are immediately greeted by blinding sunlight, instinctively linking her arm through his in a silent agreement.
Funny, she thinks, as they make the turn toward the subway, that she'd find comfort in Johnny Gallagher, of all people. But then - she looks up at him to see his face silhouetted against the sun - he was one of her best friends.
