Content Warning: Language

February 2009

"…yea, I'm gonna go over that section tonight… Are we still on for a cram session on Thursday? I cannot fail my first exam!" Sara laughed, ear to the phone, as Happy walked in. The energy of the room shifted towards darkness as she took in his agitated features.

"Hey Rhi, I gotta go, I'll talk to you later…" Sara stated before hanging up and turning to Happy, who finished kicking off his boots. He was silent, but that didn't necessarily mean anything when it came to him. Nonetheless, palpable agitation rolled off him, crashing upon her buoyant mood.

"What's wrong?" she asked, trailing him into the bedroom. It didn't slip past her that he'd dropped his duffle on the floor haphazardly, his usual perfectionism and rigidity fallen to the wayside. Jeez, he must really be pissed.

"Nothin'; shitty ride." Completely unfazed by his terse attitude, she debated giving him space but pushed that aside after he stepped over his bag on the floor and she noticed his hoodie was damp.

"Did it rain?" It had to be 40 degrees outside. Happy simply nodded as he peeled off his clothes and pushed past her into the bathroom. "Are you okay?"

"It's the fucking Pacific Northwest; it rains."

"You want me to heat something up for you?" she hovered as steam began wafting out.

"I'm fine," he snapped, closing the door before she could respond.

When he re-emerged from their bedroom a short while later, he saw a plate of steaming food on the dining table and his face twisted sourly.

"Said I wasn't hungry."

"No, you didn't; you said you were fine, but you need a good meal in you," she countered from her position on the couch, face in a book.

"I'm not a fuckin' child and you ain't my Ma," he huffed from the kitchen but sat at the table anyway. She smiled hearing the scrape of fork against ceramic as she refocused on her reading, content to give him the space he clearly needed. She intended to move her studying into the bedroom so he could watch TV in peace, but she couldn't gather the energy to get up and move everything.

Her head was throbbing from all the reading, but she needed to get through it to be able to study later that week. Rhiannon had been helping her organize her school habits, but Sara was barely staying afloat. In fact, she felt like she was drowning in most areas of her life; there just wasn't enough time in the day to get things done, and with Happy back on the road, she was struggling to adjust to the push and pull of his trips. She knew grad school would be tough, but it was sucking up all her energy. She was exhausted mentally, emotionally, and sometimes even physically every single day.

Five textbook pages later, his chair slid out and she spared a nosy glance as he placed the plate in the sink to wash.

"Didn't unpack anything?" he called from the kitchen. From his tone she could tell a hot shower and a hot meal hadn't quelled his attitude.

"What's the point?" she grumbled, closing her textbook. He was looking for a fight—granted this wasn't a topic she particularly wanted to discuss but she wasn't going to get much done until they hashed it out. She needed a break anyway.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"Where would you like me to put things, Hap?" she questioned, pinching the bridge of her nose in an effort to slow her mounting headache.

"Have you even tried? I mean, what the fuck are you doing all day?"

"Excuse me? You think I don't do shit all day?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I really fucking don't. Also, fuck you; you think I haven't tried to find places for my stuff? You have a single three-drawer dresser and a tiny fucking closet that has your guns and club shit in it. Please, show me all the places you have in mind for my stuff." She held her arms out and looked around small living room.

"I don't know, Sara, but you don't need to be a bitch about it. Just find a goddamn place or get rid of it. I'm sick of these fucking boxes in here."

"Then let's move."

"When you think we got time for that? Or the money? We can't just be doin' shit because you don't like my place; you don't think about shit practically." She knew he was just running his mouth; she knew he was taking out his bad day on her. She knew a lot of things. Knowing didn't make it any easier to lay down and take it. He could be in a bad mood; he didn't need to get personal.

"What does that mean?"

"You've always had some man around to take care of you; you're used to just getting shit when you want it."

"What the hell are you talking about? When have I ever gotten what I wanted from the men in my life?" she snapped, refusing to let his dig roll off her. The floodgates opened and she couldn't have stopped even if she'd wanted to, "Don't you dare try to make it sound like moving was my idea. You're the one that said we would find a new place together! And you know what? The fact you just called it your place is the exact problem. Nothing about this place is mine. I just keep your bed warm while you're on the road."

"Watch your mouth!" he snapped, pinning her with a dark glare over his shoulder.

"I'm not saying anything but the truth; but, sure, go ahead and blame me for everything," she stated sarcastically, standing up and piling her books and notes into her arms. He'd be pissed but he was set on that regardless of her best attempts to curb his mood. She stomped into the bedroom as he grumbled to himself at the sink.

Dishes were washed, dried, and put away when she reemerged a few moments later, and Happy was nursing a beer on the couch.

"The fuck you going?" he asked looking at his watch when she grabbed her coat. It was late—later than she usually went out.

"Out."

"Don't be a bitch, Sara," he sighed, clenching his jaw and rolling his eyes, "I'm not in the mood for your fucking theatrics."

"Then I'll take my 'theatrics' elsewhere," she stated before walking out. He jumped off the couch to follow her out into the freezing winter night.

"Sara, get back inside," he commanded in a booming voice.

"I'll be back later," she dismissed distantly, already compartmentalizing and putting up walls. The only sign of her distress was the quickening of her pace to put space between them.

"Sara!" he barked, and her last shred of willpower snapped. She wasn't some goddamn dog that would sit and stay when he commanded.

"Fuck you," she snarled, whirling around to face him. He hadn't bothered to grab a coat or shoes, so he stood with crossed arms and socked feet. His appearance took her by surprise and her momentary pause gave him the small advantage he needed to catch up.

"Sare, come on. Come back inside. It's late," he soothed, his sharp tone softened and lined with exhaustion–maybe even a hint of remorse. Of course. Of course he felt bad now that she was storming out, she thought wryly, probably just realized his ruined his shot at getting laid.

"No, I don't want to be around you right now," she stated flatly, taking a step back as he came within arm's reach, "I'm sick of being in that apartment and I don't really feel much like being the whipping post for your bad mood."

"Sara, don't say that shit. I'm fucking trying," he grumbled, anxiously running a hand across his scalp, "I want you here, not running off into the night," he sighed in annoyance, running his hand over his face.

"Fine, take the time. But you don't get to yell at me just because you're in a bad mood. I told you that when we got together; you don't get to take out your shit on me and expect me to sit around and take it. You don't want me to run off? Don't give me a reason to."

His teeth chattered and his feet throbbed from the cold, wet asphalt, but he stayed rooted in place. He knew she was a runner, but it didn't make it hurt any less for her to walk out. It fucking ached to see her so upset she couldn't even stay in the same building as him. Fuck. He fucked up.

"I know." He never was one for apologies. "Come back inside, its fucking freezing. Let's talk this shit out in there."

They were settled at opposite ends of the couch in silence. Happy'd changed into warmer clothes—again—and Sara was sitting cross legged facing him. Her fingers pulled and wrapped the strings of the large hoodie she wore like armor. It was tense, and the dim lighting made shadows feel like a jeering audience. Was she supposed to start? She'd said her bit. Against her better instincts she'd come back in with him, but he seemed sincere in his remorse and she couldn't bring herself to walk out on him when he was trying to patch things up.

"You're right," he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper but he might as well have shouted the way the words hung in the silent room. She was stunned. That's not what she'd expected. She'd expected more anger and screaming. At least a lecture.

"About what?"

"Everything. The apartment, the boxes, all the shit you said."

"Hap, I was upset and mad and wanted to hurt you like you were hurting me. You came home pissed, and I should have just let it be. I'm fine waiting for a new apartment."

"Don't want you afraid to tell me shit you need from me."

"I'm not afraid of you… I just…" Her sentence was left hanging as she struggled find the words. "Want to tell me what got you all twisted up earlier?"

"Got no good excuse. Just shitty day; fuckin' rain and just club shit. Not used to comin' home to someone else on days like that. Fuckin' took my bullshit out on you. Ain't right." It was times like this she remembered being in a relationship was still new to him. His words had hurt, but he also had his own shit that she didn't always take into consideration. There hadn't been a moment when she stopped to even consider the strain on his mental health for her to have messy boxes everywhere. Fuck, they were a pair.

"I'm tired and strung tight, too. I'm having a really hard time adjusting to life up here and school. Like I can't find my stride. I know you hate the mess but I don't know how to make it better and I know it seems like I'm not doing much but I just don't know what to do and I'm failing at everything. I'm just so fucking overwhelmed and I've had this terrible fucking headache all afternoon and I just...can't." She pressed the balls of her hands into her eyes as her head pulsated with pain and her eyes stung with emotion.

"You ain't failing at shit. Just focus on school; we're good," Happy assured, but it did little to quell the heavy feelings inside of her. It seemed like he was moving past this as if it were no big deal, but she was finding it harder to forgive. She needed to vent. She wanted Juice, and Half-Sack, and… Donna. She wanted Donna. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she took a deep breath.

"You good?" He asked after a moment. A small chuckle escaped her. What a fucking loaded question.

"Come to bed. Its late, and its cold, and it's been a long day." She tried to pull him towards the bedroom, but he shook his head.

"Imma stay up a bit. You go."

Sara exhaled, watching him closely. Was he pushing her away or simply needing space? Exhaustion choked out all of her other thoughts, falling across her like a weight. She needed to finish her work and a dozen other things, but she just… couldn't. She'd kick herself tomorrow when she had to play catchup, but the allure of their warm bed was enough to motivate procrastination. She tried to stay awake to see when he would come to bed, but her fatigue got the best of her and she fell asleep quickly. Sometime later, fuzzy consciousness interrupted her dream as the bed shifted beside her.

"I'm sorry." His voice was hushed. She groggily rolled onto her back as he settled facing her. Her fingers reached out to cup his tense jaw.

"I love you," she stated quietly, her thumb moving softly across his cheek, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't try to run out like that."

"Don't care, you can run off as much as you want; so long as you come back," he whispered, "Always come back."

"I will."

He pulled her hand from his cheek to kiss her palm before settling beside her.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I also wrote a Kozik one-shot for a challenge, called Chasing the Reaper. It's posted as well, so I would love for you guys to check it out and leave a review to let me know what you think! Our girl Sara even makes a little cameo. I'm hoping to grow it into a chaptered story if there is enough interest, but my priority remains this story.

Thank you to Ang, who keeps me on the right track and focused on the important details to keep Sara grounded and multi-dimensional; you've earned bedazzled stilettos this week and all weeks. Please, please, please leave a review to let me know your thoughts!

As a friendly reminder, if you leave a review from a Guest account, I can't respond, so I would love if you all made accounts to leave your amazing reviews! I love being able to message and respond to questions or comments. Thank you for your support, and all the love for Sara and Happy.