Work Text:
The relative quiet of the DA’s office surround him, mixing with the sounds of New York City traffic outside. Boxes are stacked into almost every vacant corner of his office and papers occupy the desk. One Hogan Place’s lights had slowly started to dwindle as the minutes and hours bled into the next. Currently, the only light Nolan could see was the one from his desk.
He rubs his eyes wearily and turns to stare out the window, listening as the sounds of car horns and buses flit up to him, filling the space. The sounds were oddly comforting, he realizes as his eyes slide over the case logs and briefs on his desk. He knows he should go home, seeing as how there was nothing more for him to do tonight.
He finds himself going over the events of the past couple days. His mind replaying them over and over like a film reel. Nolan taps his fingers against his desk, the sound echoing in the silence. He recalls his earlier words to her in bits and pieces, like a broken kaleidoscope.
Thanks for being so honest.
His words echo in his mind and the look in her dark brown eyes filling up the rest of the space. He sighs and picks up his phone, navigating to the messages app, mindlessly scrolling through the conversations. Eventually he clicks off the screen and drops his phone on the desk.
He could tell the past couple days, maybe weeks, had bothered her immensely, but couldn’t come up with any other ways to help. He finds the particular thought disconcerting and more frustrating than the dozens of case folders littering his desk.
After a few minutes of contemplative silence, he picks up his phone again. Sets it down. The words deserting him.
He leans back in his chair, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he studies his phone quietly. There’s a nervous energy coursing through his veins, and a war raging in his mind. A war he was running out of ways to make stop.
After a few more minutes of contemplative silence, Nolan gets to his feet. The creaking sounds from his chair are like a gunshot in the silence. It’s the sound of resolution, he realizes as he grabs his coat.
The air was crisp and the sky clear. A perfect late fall evening, he thinks as he flips the collar up on his coat and heads down the steps, heading towards the subway.
Tomorrow morning, Nolan will remember the walk from the subway, through her entrance hall, and the elevator to Sam’s door like he’s a spectator and not a live participant.
The short walk from the elevator to Sam’s front door is drawn-out. He nearly loses his nerve as he approaches her door, raises his hand and knocks gently.
It takes him a minute or so to think about how everything leading up to now was a mistake. Nolan’s thoughts are a mess and he can hear his heart beating in his chest as he half-turns to walk away. The sound of her locks sliding out of place stop him. His breath leaves him in a whoosh as he takes in the sight of her.
“Hey.”