Holy shit, you guys! Amazing response to the first chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed. You're all very nice, and sweet, and generally wonderful.

Oh, and just fyi, I usually don't cast my OC's with celebrities, because I want you to be able to see them in your heads however you want to, just based on my description. But that being said, this time around I realized that the Sarah I imagined is basically identical to the lovely Alison Brie. So if you need some help visualizing what she looks like, just google Alison Brie with shoulder-length hair and that's almost exactly what my Sarah Franklin looks like :)

And since I didn't clarify in the first chapter, this story will basically be AU. Not really planning on following much of the original plot, just in case you were wondering.

Ok, enough chit chat. Here's a little more of Hap and Sarah. Let me know what you think!

Chapter Two

She was dizzy and lightheaded, certain that she was going to drop at any second. But focusing on Benny's face seemed to help to at least slow the spinning beneath her feet. So for a few minutes, Sarah just kept her gaze locked on his; pleasantly distracted, if just for a moment, by how the darkest eyes she'd ever seen were also somehow the warmest.

But after a while she was brought back to reality when she felt the large hands around her arms barely tighten, and he spoke with a deep but quiet voice. "How bad are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

She reached one of her hands to the back of her head and felt the small knot forming on her scalp before shaking her head. "No. I think I'm good. I hit my head when he…" The feeling of helplessness that had overwhelmed her just a few short minutes before flooded her body, and she bit hard on her lip to keep from crying. "…when he pushed me down. But I never blacked out or anything."

He studied her for a few more seconds, seemingly judging for himself if she was really alright, before he barely nodded his head to the side. "Who is he?"

She glanced over at the man lying on the pavement a few feet away and immediately had to close her eyes and swallow the bile rising in her throat. Oh God, that's a lot of blood…

"Sarah?"

"Hmmm?" She slowly turned back to Benny and looked at him once more.

The concern on his face was evident as he took a fraction of a step closer. "I asked you who he is."

She couldn't bring herself to look back over, so she just stared straight ahead at the plain gray cotton of Benny's t-shirt. "I don't know. I've never seen him before. I was just walking home, and it was like he came out of nowhere." She couldn't hide the tremble in her voice and squeezed her eyes shut hard just as her tears started to fall once more. "Shit…"

"Hey…Hey, It's alright now. You're ok. You're safe."

She didn't flinch when Benny pulled her close against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, caressing her back with the tips of his fingers. And she didn't know why his presence calmed her so much, or how she was able to completely relax her body against his. All she knew was that this savior, this knight in baggy jeans and a faded t-shirt, had kept her from being raped and had possibly saved her life. And she knew she didn't want him to let her go.

Happy held her while she finally cried the sobs she'd been trying so hard to hold back. And for just a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the way she fit so perfectly in his arms; her head tucked securely under his chin so that he could lean down and smell the soft flowery scent of her hair. But when he felt her take a few deep breaths and lift her head from his chest, he loosened his grasp and pulled back a few inches.

Those big, hazy blue eyes stared up at him again as she whispered. "Benny, I…" He wasn't sure what she was going to say, but he knew what was going to happen next when her pale skin suddenly turned a sickly green. "Oh my God…"

He had just enough notice to take one step backwards before Sarah vomited what looked to be a gallon of liquor all over the ground, his boots, and his jeans. Then he quickly went behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as she continued to throw up more than he thought her small stomach could hold.

When there was nothing left, she slowly stood up straight and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. Then she turned around to face him, her bleary eyes full of humiliation. "Oh God, that's so gross. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm really drunk."

Hap just shook his head and brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her tear stained cheeks. "Don't worry about it. I've seen worse." He could see the strength she had remaining slowly starting to dissipate as her legs started to wobble and knew he had to get her out of there before she passed out. "Where do you live?"

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, and he could tell she was fighting off another round of nausea. "Um…782 Whittier Steet."

Hap sighed. That's about eight blocks in the opposite direction, and there's no way she's gonna make it that far. So he just placed a gentle arm around her waist and carefully started walking her towards the sidewalk. "Come on. My house is just about five minutes this way. I can clean you up a little there and then drive you home."

Sarah nodded and took a few unsteady steps, but after a moment she paused and looked back at her attacker, still out cold on the concrete. "Don't…don't we need to call the police?"

But Hap just kept walking, not once looking back. "I'll take care of it."

It took a little longer than he thought, but after almost carrying her the last half of the short journey, they finally made it to the house.

Hap unlocked the door and stepped inside, his arm now firmly set around her waist since he was pretty sure she no longer had the ability to stand up on her own. Then he helped her up the small flight of stairs to the second floor and opened the first door on the left.

He guided Sarah into his childhood bedroom, walked her to the edge of the bed, and turned her around so that she could slowly sink down onto the mattress. Then once she was seated, Sarah opened her heavy eyelids just enough to glance around at all the boxes neatly stacked along the wall. "Are you moving?"

Hap swallowed the small lump in his throat and shook his head. "This was my mom's house. She died a few weeks ago. I'm just packing up some things."

She stared up at him and focused on his face, her eyes getting just a little more clear. "I'm so sorry."

Hap wanted to say something back to her, but in that moment, he didn't quite trust himself to speak. He'd been keeping a tight rein on his emotions since the morning his mother passed away, but the sadness and genuine concern in Sarah's voice threatened to bring them to the surface, and he knew he wasn't ready for that. So instead he just looked to the floor and nodded.

After a few seconds, when he looked back up at her and remembered the scattered cuts and scrapes all over her body, he took a step back towards the hall. "I'll be right back." Then he quickly went to the little bathroom one door down, grabbed the first aid kit underneath the sink, and then walked back to his bedroom.

He took some gauze and soaked it with alcohol before he started cleaning her wounds. And to her credit, as he ran the material against her leg, her arm, and her hands, she barely flinched. It was only when he poured a little more antiseptic on the material and cleaned the cut on her forehead that she bit her lip and barely whimpered.

When all the dirt had been washed away and he'd applied a couple of butterfly bandages to her head, Hap put everything back in the kit before walking over to his dresser and grabbing a clean t-shirt and a pair of his old sweatpants.

"Your clothes are in pretty bad shape. Put these on and then, once you're dressed, I can take you home, alright?"

She tried her best to smile, but it came out a little broken. "Alright."

He placed his clothes in her lap and then took a step backwards. "Do, uh…do you need help, you know, changing?"

She just shook her head and ran her fingers over the soft cotton material in her hands. "I'll manage."

Hap didn't say anything else, just turned and walked out to the hallway, closing the door behind him and waiting several minutes to give Sarah enough time to change. But after a few long moments passed by when he didn't hear any sounds coming from his room, he took a step closer to the door and knocked. "Sarah? Are you ready?"

He waited just a couple of seconds before hesitantly opening the door, and when he glanced inside and over towards his bed, he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from barely lifting in the smallest of smiles.

His sweatpants, along with her ruined shirt and skirt, were lying in a heap on his floor. But at least she'd managed to get his t-shirt on before passing out on top of his covers.

He went to the bed and gently lifted her shoulders just enough to move her so that her head was resting on top of his pillow. Then, as she lied on her side and curled herself into a little ball, he freed the sheets and blankets beneath her so that he could pull them up over her smooth, pale legs and tuck them close beneath her chin. And only then, when she was completely covered by the old green and yellow Oakland A's comforter that he'd had since he was a kid, did he finally sit down on the bed beside her.

What the fuck am I doing? For a second, Hap had to wonder if tonight was actually happening, or if it was just some crazy, messed up dream. He never brought women to his mother's house, he never let them sleep in his bed, and he sure as hell never told any of them his given name. He liked order. He liked routine. And he hated when change disrupted the balance in his life.

But as he stared down at the pretty brunette lying peacefully beside him, and remembered the way his name sounded when it had fallen across her lips, he couldn't deny the warm feeling that spread throughout his chest…or even begin to figure out what it meant.

Hap lingered for just a few moments longer, but knew he couldn't stay there forever. He started to stand, but before he could rise up from the bed, Sarah's hand moved to rest on top of thigh.

He gazed down at her face, surprised at how much he was looking forward to seeing that stormy shade of blue one more time. But to his disappointment, she never opened her eyes. Instead, she just whispered. "Thank you."

Happy just shook his head. "You already said that once tonight."

A single stray tear fell down her cheek. "Once isn't enough." Then her fingers drifted back down to his sheets as her breathing evened out, and she floated into quiet unconsciousness once more.

His hand moved on its own accord as it came to rest on the side of her face; his thumb caressing her swollen cheek as his fingertips rested against the softness of her hair. Then, unable to stop himself, he leaned down and barely grazed his lips against her temple, too distracted by the way his heart was racing to wonder what the hell he was doing.

He stood up from the bed and glanced down at her one more time, the bruises on her face becoming more and more pronounced with each passing minute. Then the familiar, quiet rage he experienced whenever someone hurt the people he cared about filled every cell in his body, and he knew exactly what he had to do.

He needed to make sure that no one would ever hurt Sarah again.

Happy silently closed the door to his bedroom and went downstairs to the kitchen table to get the Ka-Bar he'd taken off his belt earlier that night. Then he walked outside to his mom's garage where he grabbed a tarp, some rope, and a bottle of bleach, before he got behind the wheel of her old Lincoln Continental and headed down the street to the convenience store.

He backed the car into the rear parking lot, right beside the dumpster, and then walked around the corner to the entrance. The cigarettes he'd abandoned on the sidewalk were still there, so he picked up the box and tucked it up under his arm before going inside and walking up to the register. He glanced quickly around the store to make sure they were alone. Then he focused his eyes on the old nightshift clerk; an elderly Cuban man who'd been friends with his mother and who he'd known since he was a teenager.

Hap's voice was as steady and intense as the look in his eyes. "Turn the security lights off outside for the next five minutes, and give me all the surveillance tapes you have for the night. You never saw me here."

Everyone in the neighborhood knew who Happy Lowman was, knew exactly what he was capable of, and knew better than to ask him questions. He was a Son, he was a criminal, and without a doubt, he was a killer. But to everyone's knowledge, he'd never hurt anyone who didn't have it coming. So, without fear or hesitation, the old man just nodded once before turning to switch off the exterior lights and retrieve the video tapes from the security system. Then he just handed them to Happy and stared as he turned and walked out of the store without another word.

He's still breathing. Hap sighed in disgust. Three of his hardest punches thrown directly at the fucker's skull, and somehow the asshole was still breathing. Then Happy turned his head to look at the dumpster, where he could somehow still see Sarah and how she'd looked earlier that night; bruised, bloodied, and terrified out of her mind. And with that image playing in his head like a nightmare on repeat, he glanced back at the man lying on the ground and grinned. You're breathing now, you piece of shit. But you won't be for long.

Hap had murdered and cleaned up after himself so many times, he could have done it blindfolded. He laid the tarp down and dragged the guy on top of it until he was lying directly in the middle. Then, with a quickness and precision that had taken years to master, he drove his knife into the man's neck; severing his arteries and spinal cord, killing him instantly.

Within seconds, he wrapped the tarp around the body and secured it with the rope before placing it carefully in the trunk of the Lincoln. Then finally, after pouring bleach over every surface that could have had his or Sarah's DNA, he quietly closed the trunk, got back into the car, and drove calmly out into the night.

Now he just had to dump the fucker somewhere where no one would ever find him, but for Happy Lowman that was always the easy part. I know a thousand places to bury bodies.

When Happy pulled back into his mother's garage, he closed the large door before turning on the light and cleaning out the inside of the trunk so that absolutely no evidence remained. Then he took off his clothes and immediately threw them into the washing machine before making his way into the house.

He walked straight up the stairs and to the bathroom where he took a scalding hot, five minute shower. Then he quickly dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist before walking back to the hallway and over to his bedroom door.

Hap opened it as quietly as possible and almost grinned when he still saw her there, unmoved from the moment he left, asleep and perfectly at home in a place he didn't share with anyone.

And he wanted to be close to her. He couldn't even begin to understand why, but more than anything, in the still quiet of the early morning, surrounded by darkness; he wanted to crawl into bed beside her, wrap his arm around her waist, and know what it felt like to fall asleep lying next to her. Feel her breath on my shoulder…feel her pulse beneath my hands…

But instead, he walked over to his dresser, found some old basketball shorts, and slipped them on before going to his closet and grabbing an extra pillow and a couple spare blankets.

Then he just laid down on the floor a few feet away, still wishing like hell that he could touch her, and still clueless as to the reason why.

But Hap figured all the answers could wait until morning. For now, he would just let his eyes drift up to Sarah's face and allow himself the contentment that came from watching her sleep.

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