"Truth or dare?" Toby asks later that night as they lean against his kitchen counter.
Finishing the piece of toast in her mouth, Happy raises an eyebrow. "This is your post-sex conversation?" She shakes her head. "What are we, eight?"
"Hey!" He snatches a strawberry off their shared plate. "I just listened to you list seven different uses for toasters. We have passed the realm of normal conversation."
"Fine," Happy says, jumping onto the counter. "Truth."
"I thought you would have picked dare."
Seeing his shocked expression, she elaborates. "I figured that if I said dare, you'd dare me to tell the truth. Saved time."
"Not necessarily-"
"Toby."
"Right." Toby moves between her legs, running his thumbs along the bare skin of her thighs. "You mentioned staying in the orphanage," he trails off, unsure of how to proceed. To be honest, he didn't expect to get this far, at least not tonight.
"Yes, I used dry ice as revenge material." She looks down, turning her attention to Toby's hands. She traces his fingers, his veins, circles each knuckle before she speaks again. "Not my proudest moment."
The words are soft, too soft, and Toby's afraid that if he says something he'll break the moment. But Happy looks up briefly and he sees the question in her eyes. The "Can I actually justify this?" and "Does it really matter?" and "I'm not sure I want you to know."
He simply presses a tender kiss to her forehead, leaving his hands for her to peruse, before moving his lips closer to her ear. He whispers sweet nothings, filled with "It's okay," and "Hap, I believe in you," until he feels the tension slowly drain from her body.
"They weren't the nicest." She scoffs, shaking her head at the memories. "Just picked on the little kids." Tracing his right thumb, "Stupid things."
"Not stupid," Toby supplies, but otherwise remains silent.
"Teased me because I had parents- parent- but was in an orphanage anyway." Right ring finger. "They thought it was some right of passage, something to hold over me, whatever." Circling back to his left hand, Happy continues. "Normal stuff."
Sighing heavily at her rationalization, Toby remains silent. He has learned that sometimes silence is best, especially when it comes to Happy. "I didn't use the dry ice for that." She moves on to tracing letters, more and more letters; they're nearly mindless doodles if he doesn't pay attention to the sensation. "There was this other girl, Cat, and she was little. Well, I was little," she says, gesturing to her tiny stature, "but she was just a kid." Happy's lips turn up slightly as Toby uses his free hand to rub her shoulder. "I could handle myself. Cat couldn't do anything. She was only three. I don't know what happened to her parents. But they weren't there, obviously." She can feel her breathing becoming panicked and her sentences jumbling together, but she closes her eyes and keeps talking. "You can't do that to a three year old. I wasn't going to let them." She forces the words out, squeezing Toby's hands as the words catch in her throat.
"Look at me," Toby insists, slightly tilting her chin up, even though- despite being a psychiatrist- he doesn't know where to start. "Thank you for sharing that with me." Her eyes are still clenched shut and her face is still mangled by sadness, but the lightening grip on his fingers tell him that she is listening. "No one should have to go through that." He leans closer to press a kiss to each eyelid, just a whisper of a touch; pulling back, he soothes, "You wanted to protect her."
Breathing raggedly, Happy says, "It doesn't excuse-"
"You did what you thought was best," Toby asserts. "I assume no one else was helping her or trying to." Happy nods. "No one deserves any of that," he repeats as she finally meets his eyes.
She doesn't say anything, just nods and removes her hands from his, wrapping them around herself. "I don't like to remember."
"I'm sorry for asking." Toby pushes a wisp of hair behind her ear.
"No, I needed to tell someone." Happy steels her expression. "Sometime."
"I hope, one day, you'll have peace with this," he tries.
She doesn't have the words to explain the thoughts racing around her head, so she leans up to join their lips. She tries to communicate without words what it means to share this memory, what it means to have him here with her. One kiss turns into two and she runs her hands up his arms, grasping his cheeks, pulling him closer, closer, trying desperately to erase the space between them. He feels a tear fall onto his cheek, but it doesn't stop the gentle mingling of breath and the overlapping of lips. He knows she needs this; she doesn't want to feel alone. His expertise is words, but for her he can learn to communicate through actions too.
She is the first to pull away, sucking in air as her palms move to run through his curls. Replicating her movements, he twirls her ebony locks and leans his forehead against hers. "I love you."
She nods. "Thank you," she murmurs. Once she is able to breathe normally, she maneuvers herself out of Toby's embrace and hops off the counter. "Can we go to bed?"
He knows there's more- so much more. There's still so much about her past that he doesn't know and so much she has yet to say. But she's here now and she's okay. And when she's ready, he'll be right beside her. "Let's get ready for bed."
He moves to place their dishes in the sink, then follows her into his bedroom. She's already pulling back the covers before he's even finished his nightly routine, slipping between the sheets in his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. "Good night," he says after he situates himself on his side of the bed.
"Night." She burrows her head into his chest.
He wraps his arms around her middle, holding her tightly. "Sweet dreams, Hap." He nuzzles the top of her head. "Please, sweet dreams."