Chapter Text
Sam had, somehow, convinced himself that he is a very level-headed guy.
This was his first and maybe gravest mistake, because now he’s somehow convinced others that he has a level head. That, or Frank is just messing with him, which much to Sam’s chagrin, is the much more likely option.
Sam frowns through the whole introduction Vincenzo gives of the boy. He’s a year older than Sam, taller, stronger, objectively good looking. He has a charming smile, but he speaks English with such ease, no traces of any accent, Sam is sure he must’ve born here.
He introduces himself as Paulie, and now Sam is sure that he is an American.
Sam can tell this Paulie is a jokester, a lot like Vincenzo, he is loud, boisterous, he thinks this is funny, a game. Sam can tell almost immediately that Paulie doesn’t understand the depth of what he is getting into. Paulie must think being a part of a Family like this is just about money and status, just like every other person Sam has met. They don’t understand what true loyalty, what Family, is.
Sam can feel a migraine beginning to bud behind his eyes. It peaks to fruition the moment Frank explains to him that he is to show Paulie the ropes for the Family.
Frank holds Sam’s eyes and Sam can tell Frank is pleading with Sam to read between the lines and try to make something of this boy Vincenzo has brought back.
Sam stares back at Frank until Frank turns to Paulie and gestures to Sam. Paulie turns toward Sam. He gives Sam that big and friendly grin, and Sam fights the urge to roll his eyes.
Sam had already decided his future. He will raise through the ranks of this Family and truly make it something. Frank had told him as much. Frank had trained him for this.
Maybe it was Sam’s mistake for expecting more than some American kid who got busted for stealing cars. Maybe he had been feeling a bit too self-important, and Frank had had to knock him down a few pegs.
Without any further words, Sam is turning with the expectation Paulie follows him. Sam takes several steps before he can hear Paulie’s hurried steps behind him.
“Hey,” Paulie starts talking, basically immediately, and Sam can feel the headache thump again.
“Paulie,” Paulie said, in what Sam supposes is an introduction of sort. Sam doesn’t answer him.
“Oh,” Paulie says under his breath, and then he changes his tone and begins to speak Italian to Sam.
Sam had already written Paulie off as an American, so it comes as a complete surprise to hear Italian roll off his tongue like this. Sam turns to look at him and he must wear the shock on his face because Paulie laughs.
Sam doesn’t know main-land Italian all that well. From the way he speaks, he thinks Paulie or Paulie’s family must be from a Northern region, but to hear the way he speaks Italian so comfortably, instead of this mangled version some of the others speak, already brings a bit of comfort to Sam. He thinks Paulie honestly sounds a little less annoying when he’s speaking Italian.
“I can speak English.” Sam chooses to answer instead, but with the way he had been so deep in his own thoughts, his accent is thicker than he would’ve liked it to be.
Paulie laughs again, “You don’t sound too sure of that.”
Sam rolls his eyes and gets to the car. He gestures for Paulie to drive, even after his nearly two years in America, Sam still doesn’t like to drive.
“Grazie,” Paulie smiles that lopsided smile and climbs into the driver’s seat of the car.
He immediately starts rambling to Sam about the car’s make, model, horsepower, a bunch of words that Sam doesn’t understand in the slightest, but he is glad the conversation isn’t about him, like he thought it would be.
Sam learns a lot about Paulie from this car ride. He thought it would be a bit harder to gleam information, to read between the lines, but Paulie seems to be an open book.
Which Sam is thankful for, because all he can concentrate on is not getting car sick. Paulie drives like a madman, but Sam supposes he has a lot of familiarity with the streets, and most of the other times he was behind the wheel, it was because he was running from the cops.
Sam is thankful when they make their first stop for collections. He stumbles out of the car and places his hand on the roof to stabilize himself.
Paulie laughs, “Come on now, Sammy, wasn’t that bad! Got us here in one piece, huh? Record time, too.” He jokes as he rounds the car and puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder.
Sam swallows down a dry heave, and then focuses on the words Paulie had said.
“Don’t call me that. Just Sam. Sam is already the short version. No need for a second.” Sam tells Paulie, then he stands straight and smooths out his shirt, focusing on keeping his lunch firmly in his stomach.
“Right. You don’t seem like much the nickname type anyway, Sam.” Paulie leans against the car and lights a cigarette. Only then does it dawn on Sam that Paulie is following his lead, that Sam is the senior one in this situation. “What’s it short for?”
The question takes Sam by surprise. What else would ‘Sam’ be short for if not Samuele? Sam just stares at Paulie blankly, before again it clicks with Sam that Paulie is trying to make friends, build bridges, not assume. Paulie is trying to front genuine connection. Sam takes another glance at Paulie before turning to the building and beginning to walk toward it.
Sam is surprised to learn that Paulie is also playing chess. Paulie is taking a different approach, the opposite approach that Sam is. Paulie is letting everyone else think he is dumb, goofy, so that he can fade into the background and do the work he truly wants to be doing. So he can build his own connections, his own network. Meanwhile, Sam is taking Frank’s advice and taking the higher route, feigning so much confidence, no one questions you at all.
Sam allows his lips to quirk in a quick smirk. They are going to be a great team after all.
-
When they return from the collection, they both take a minute to lean against the car and smoke a cigarette. They do truly have a minute to rest since Paulie had gotten them here so quickly.
Sam stands next to Paulie and can feel the warmth radiating off of him. They’re silent for a little, comfortable with one another now, a mutual respect budding.
“Sam,” Paulie says in such a quiet and contemplative manner, serious almost. It makes Sam’s ears perk with attention, it seems so.. Wrong, to hear the tone from Paulie.
Sam turns to give Paulie his full attention.
“It’s gonna be me and you for a long time. People are going to come and go in this life, but I know it’s going to be me and you for a long time. An’ I hope you feel the same.” Paulie takes a long drag of the cigarette and blows the smoke out.
Sam blinks and stays silent for a minute, takes his own drag.
“You an’ me, huh?” Sam repeats. It feels ominous to say it out loud. Binding almost. Like a contract formed between them both, the devil, and any other entity who may be listening.
Paulie nods, “When it comes down to it. Me, you, Frank, and the Don, until we’re all just as old and grey. Think we’re gon’ run this town, Sam. Whole city will be ours.”
Paulie says it in such a convincing voice, Sam has no reason not to believe him.
Sam turns back around and drops his cigarette to the ground. He snuffs it out and then pulls the car door open. “Before any o’ that, we better finish this up then. Come on.” he says instead, letting the emotions that are flaring in him snuff themselves out, just like he had to his cigarette.
Paulie laughs and walks around the car to his side, “What? Not much of a sentimental guy, huh?”
“No,” Sam answers flatly, though he can tell Paulie’s teasing is just getting started.
“No? Those big baby blue eyes and you ain’t sentimental? Don’t believe it for a second.” Paulie jests. Sam’s cheeks pink, completely against his will and he rolls his eyes.
After a moment, Sam has to ask, “What do my eyes have to do with it?”
Paulie cracks a smile, and Sam already knows the answer will annoy him, “Nothin’ much, just thought I’d mention ‘em. They’re pretty.”
Sam presses his lips into a hard line, willing his blush not to darken anymore. “Drive the car, Paulie.” he answers, as flatly as possible, trying to convey every ounce of annoyance he can.
And for a moment, much to his dismay, he thinks he is going to have to tell Sarah about this.