Cabe's focus tracked Walter and Paige's exit from his hospital room - and Happy was gladder than she would have believed possible when he traded a brief eye-roll with her in commiseration regarding the latest stage of that debacle - before falling on Toby. "I hear I owe you pretty big," he rasped.
Toby smiled for a moment, then looked down, rubbing at the back of his neck. (She wonders, sometimes, that Mr. Behaviorist can't control his own tells. Thinks, sometimes, that maybe it's just around them that he doesn't bother.) "Hey, we all -"
And then rage flared up, driving Happy's fist into his shoulder like it was on a spring, the same sort of impulse and nearly the amount of force she'd unleashed on the dilapidated hose all those hours ago. Over his whined "Owww!", she snapped "We all did what we do. We improvised. But there was only one doc out there in that desert."
As Toby's wounded look turned soft, Happy nearly backpedaled. She didn't do schlock, especially in front of the team. But godDAMN it...
Her relationship with her dad was getting better, more so than she would have ever imagined; at least since she was old enough to decide he was never coming back for her, and the point was moot because she'd never forgive him anyway. But there was still a tension there, probably always would be. The stereotype of a girl who saw her dad as a rock, someone she could always always trust and rely on - that was one more concept that was pure fantasy in Happy Quinn's world.
Because it hadn't occurred to her to look for it in Cabe. Hadn't until she saw the horrible grey agony on his face as he bled his life away by moments and realized what she was losing.
And Toby had clawed that life back together with his bare hands and a binder clip, dispatched the rest of the team where they needed to go, then went to work once more, using even her own fingers as tools. Remembering that, the mess of sensations that - besides disgusting - would have been an utter mystery to her, or to any of the rest of them...
Fuck.
She raised on her toes, and roughly planted a kiss on the scratchy wool crown of his hat. "I'm proud of you too," she muttered.
And if her eyes closed against the shine of tears, if she reached with her free hand to squeeze Cabe's, well. She still had an extra fist to punch anyone who said anything about it.