Happy's Lament

Chapter One

"Something Awful"

The room was dark and quiet. The curtains were drawn; the red fabric filtering the sunlight into a deep, hellish glow; and the only sound was the low whrrrr of the AC, stifling the noise from the streets below. Happy woke with a thick, gooey feeling in her mouth; she tasted copper, and when she opened her eyes they were crusty and stinging. She was in her own bedroom, but something was...off. Wrong. Like someone had come in and moved all her stuff an inch to the left - that kind of disturbed feeling. Happy lifted her head and immediately felt sick; she leaned over and coughed clotted blood and bile onto the carpet. Her whole body ached and stung, like she'd laid down her bike and got tossed across the freeway. She crawled off the bed, where she had been lying naked on top of the blankets, her boots still on her feet, and almost cried out. Pain seared through her, splitting her down the centre. She felt her way in the darkness to the bathroom and flicked the light on, squinting in the bright florescents. She turned the tap on and washed her mouth out clumsily. When she looked in the mirror she gasped. She didn't recognize her own face. Blood had dried on her skin, clumped in her tangled hair, clinging to her eyelashes. Quickly she bent over and washed her face, ignoring the pain, and scrubbed until the blood was gone. She felt along her scalp, under her hair, with trembling fingers until she found the source of the blood; an inch long wound near the crown of her head. It was swollen and scabbed over, the hair around it matted and stiff. Happy tilted her head into the sink to wash it, then squeezed the water out of the ends and grabbed a long Krevelski's t-shirt from the laundry basket by the door and gingerly pulled it over her head. She stumbled through her apartment in the dark, looking for her phone. She couldn't remember coming home, or getting undressed. She didn't even remember what she had been wearing. She started picking up clothes at random, checking the pockets, until she found her phone in the pocket of her favourite black jacket. The battery was dead, so she spent another few minutes searching for the charger cord, and when it finally came to life she saw that it was almost six on Sunday morning. Sunday...what happened to Saturday? What happened to Friday?

She had one missed call from Toby earlier in the day, and texts she didn't remember sending from the last two days. Nothing that told her what the hell happened to her memory...to her body. Something happened. Something...awful.

Happy sank to the floor, phone in hand, and tried to remember. Her brain felt sluggish, stupid. She remembered driving on the freeway, and slapping Toby upside the head as she laughed...She remembered seeing Walter typing away at his desk, and Paige speaking to Ralph on the phone. Had that been yesterday? The day before? Last week? Time didn't seem to have meaning at the moment. She closed her eyes, putting her head in her hands. She took long, deep breaths, quelling the rising panic in her stomach...suddenly she leaned forward and was sick on the peeling linoleum floor. Her empty stomach wrenched, bile burning in her throat. Her head pounded like she had drank a barrel of tequila. This was no hangover, though...this was something else. Something worse. Something she recognized from a long, long time ago.

Happy didn't know how long she sat on the floor. It could have been minutes, or it could have been days. Finally she found the strength to rouse herself, pull herself to her feet, and go back to her bedroom. The darkness frightened her; she staggered inside and pulled back the curtains roughly, nearly tugging them off the window entirely. The sunlight blinded her, illuminating the mess. She rummaged through until she found a pair of sweats and stepped into them, wincing. Her keys and wallet were in her jacket, and she shrugged it on over her t-shirt before leaving, clomping down the dusty stairs. She noticed her downstairs neighbour, an elderly lady, sweeping her welcome mat and Happy called out to her; "Hey, Mrs. Novak."

"Oh, hello dear," Mrs. Novak smiled. Happy tried to keep her voice level, strong, as she said, "Hey, do you remember seeing me last night?"

Mrs. Novak gave her an odd look, peering owlishly through her bifocals. "No, I'm sorry dear, you see I was out last night. Bingo at the church across the street, see."

"Oh." Happy swallowed and forced a smile. "Thanks."

Happy found her car in her usual spot, but the doors were unlocked; even the driver's side window was rolled down. She checked the back and got in gingerly. The seat was pushed too far back for her feet to reach the pedals.

She drove to The Garage slowly, feeling like her brain was working at half capacity. She couldn't focus, couldn't think. Finally she pulled into a spot outside the building and got out, walking on trembling knees inside. Everyone was there; Sylvester at his board, Walter at his work desk and Paige at hers. She could hear Toby singing to himself in the kitchen.

"Hey Happy," Sylvester said. He froze, chalk hovering mid-algorithm. "Whoa, are you sick? You look sick."

Happy ignored him, walking straight to the kitchen. Toby was bent over in the fridge, humming around the spoon in his mouth. "Hey Doc," Happy said, her voice weaker than she intended. He looked up, eyes widening at her appearance, and the look on her face. "What's up?" He asked.

Happy took a deep, rattling breath. "I, uh, I don't trust anyone else with this, and you're, um, you're a doctor so...I need, uh, I need a rape kit."

There was silence as Happy breathed deeply, trying to keep from passing out. Toby studied her face, still crouched as though frozen in place. She raised her eyebrows. "Well? Can you do it?"

Toby straightened up slowly and put the spoon on the counter. "I can take you to the hospital," he finally said, his voice hoarse. Happy shook her head. "No."

"Happy..." Toby looked very pale. "There are people there, people better equipped -"

"They don't know shit," Happy cut him off, "Either you do it, or I figure out how to do it myself." She looked him in the eye, and for a moment, she couldn't keep her walls up. "Y...you're the only one I trust."

Toby swallowed heavily, and Happy stared him down for a long, tense moment. Finally, he nodded. "I'll need to get a few things."

Happy didn't relax her posture, even though she was relieved. "Good," she said simply, and turned to go but Toby stopped her. "Happy, wait. Are you going to even tell me what happened?"

Happy looked up at him, trying to keep her face expressionless. "That's what I'm hoping you'll tell me. Meet me upstairs in twenty."