Chapter Text
I’ve loved you…
Loved you since I can’t remember when.
Loved you...
Loved you...
Loved you…
I’m sorry…
The strong fumes of the car oil burned her senses.
I can’t…
All the things that were familiar, safe, the clank of her tools, the fragrance of old car smells, the oils, the gears, all of it, was too overwhelming. Instead of providing their familiar boost, she felt almost like she was being drained of everything.
I’m sorry...please...
Happy’s eyes shot open just as everything started closing in too fast. She must have been sitting in her truck for hours - the fabric of the steering wheel was biting into her palms from gripping it too hard. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes again and released the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
Hap, please trust in me, you can lower those shields a bit.
I don’t think...I’m not sure I know how to…
It’s okay sweetheart, we’re together now. I’m never going to leave you, we can work this out together.
Happy let out a short strained laugh. Add that to the list of times where the need to tell him ate away at her insides like acid. “Damn it!” She released a hand from the wheel, lashing out with a strangled yell. The hollow thump of her palm contrasted with her heavy heartbeat. “Damn it,” the words came out as a whisper as she lowered her head onto the wheel. “Damn it.” Why couldn’t she do anything right? Why was it always so hard to just say...something, anything?
We can work this out .
The words waited patiently for her to make a choice.
We can work this out.
Could they? Happy sat up, brushing the words aside and taking a breath. The garage door held her gaze like some sort of life or death staring match. A match that had been going on all morning. What was holding her back? She was Happy Quinn, mechanical prodigy, with a genius IQ. She could repair any engine with her eyes closed. And that was hardly the breadth of her ability. If it had parts, or there were mechanics involved, she could fix it. She had saved the entire world , countless times. So what was she afraid of?
He must hate me so much .
There, that was it. A year ago she would have never let herself even fantasize about being so close to someone. And now? She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, without wondering what he was doing. The truth was, he was an idiot. He knew exactly how to unnerve her, unravel her; and yet, despite wanting to strangle him at times, she wanted him to have everything.
But no matter what she thought, she still let him down. Tore him to pieces, pulled the rug out from under him. She’d ruined the only safe home she’d ever found. But she was going to move on, she wasn’t going to let this eat her up inside. He was never going to forgive her for this, but she could at least lessen the sting if she could forgive herself. Self-loathing wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere.
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“Toby.”
Please, don’t follow me.
“Toby.”
What matters in life is love.
“Toby.”
How? After everything that had happened? How could he still feel it burning through his veins, fueling the very fire that let him live every day?
“Toby.”
How did he still believe in love when love had never believed in him?
“Toby!” Cabe’s voice snapped him out of whatever funk had taken hold of him. The muscles on Cabe’s face relaxed as he put a hand on Toby’s shoulder. “I called your name five times, Doc.” Toby couldn’t respond, he wet his lips but his throat was still parched. Cabe’s gaze softened, “We’ve got a case, we need you on point for this, kid.”
Toby nodded, the motion second nature and pulled together a smile. You know, the kind where he could pretend everything was alright, like he wasn’t dying inside? The kind where he could tell life to kiss his ass because he was going to make it through this one? Yeah, that smile, and he was going to make it.
Maybe he tricked himself into believing that he deserved someone, and maybe he convinced himself that he wouldn’t lose whatever special magic he had had in his grasp, but he wasn’t going to let life beat him and hang him up to dry like a pair of overused and over abused clothes. He could push through this. If he could just...speak…
Cabe was still giving him that fatherly look and Toby would have hugged him if that sort of thing didn’t end up leading to disapproving stares.
“Yeah.” His head bobbed again. “Yeah, okay.” Words. What happened to his endless stream of them? Maybe he’d run out; spent them all over a weekend yelling at himself.
Yelling at himself over things he couldn’t change but felt like he had to fix. Over something that wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t find anyone else to blame.
“Life can go fuck it.” Cabe raised an eyebrow in surprise over Toby’s sudden outburst. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips remained parted wordlessly before he closed them again. Finally, Cabe patted Toby’s shoulder.
“You can save that for later, but right now focus that energy on the case.”
Toby nodded again, that same smile filled with cold fire and faked confidence. He went to say something but Cabe cut him off with a hug. “I’m glad you got your head on straight son, but you better get out there before Walter blows a gasket.”
“Sure thing boss! Can I get a kiss while we’re at it?”
Cabe stared him down, face masked. “Don’t push it, Doc.”
Still grinning, Toby surrendered and walked out to the team, making sure that he had a skip in his step and that everybody knew it. He faltered slightly when his brain made him painfully aware of a certain mechanic’s absence, but he was sure that no one noticed but him.
Walter was standing front and center next to an unfamiliar steely-eyed woman. She gave Toby too long a glance, which he was fairly sure was a result of him not touching his hair for days and the bags that were most definitely present under his eyes.
After a moment, Walter coughed a short greeting towards Toby and turned to introduce their guest. “Guys, this is Special Agent Avah Smitt. She has a very interesting proposition for us.” He nodded towards the woman and she took a step forward.
“Two days ago, this man was murdered.” Her voice carried throughout the room, the last syllable hanging in the air as a picture filled the screen behind her. She didn’t miss a beat, as she continued on before they even had a chance to really look at the man displayed. He was on the younger side, tired looking and with a sadly obvious comb-over.
“Arthur Steele,” she said with a wide gesture. “Mr. Steele was part of a connected kidnapping case. It wasn’t until his death that we realized we needed someone else on this case. Someone..smarter.” She smiled at them with a prolonged pause, one Toby was eager to fill.
“So, what is this case exactly?” Her grin grew wider, teeth blinding, before she turned grim-faced and serious, “These criminals, the men responsible for Mr. Steele’s death, have been kidnapping people for months now. At first there wasn’t a clear connection, but that’s when we saw that we weren’t looking deep enough.” With a flourish the screens were covered with half a dozen faces of both men and women, all of varying backgrounds and lifestyles.
After a moment, Sylvester raised his hand slowly, “Uh, what are we looking for exactly?” Avah started to respond, but Toby cut in, focused on the faces in front of him,
“They’ve all got some sort of crafting expertise,” he started quietly. Avah nodded, a bit caught off guard, before adding, “Yes, nice catch, Mr…?”
“Curtis. Dr Curtis,” Toby offered after a silent second. Avah smiled and went on.
“All these men and women are mechanics, engineers, physicists, jobs of that kind. Whatever they were kidnapped for, their captors are building something,” this time her smile grew dangerous, “and we just might know where they’re hiding.”
She stopped, clearly waiting for a response, but no one spoke up. Finally Paige clapped her hands together, the impact thundering in the silence, “So, we go in, grab the guys, destroy whatever they’re building, and I can get home in time for Monday night Scrabble with Ralph?” She looked hopefully at their speaker as Sylvester interjected. “There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” the woman answered and Paige shrugged like she knew it was coming. “We don’t know the identities of our kidnappers and it’d be dangerous to send your whole team in due to the fact that we still are unsure of their plans.” She hesitated, holding her breath like she was holding back on something, “Also we’ll be working on our own, no government ties of any sorts. My boss didn’t approve this mission and no other agencies are willing to help. The criminals are hiding in a nice hotel, and we don’t want to disturb the peace. ” The way she said the last few words made it sound like she had heard them way too often.
Finally, she looked at Walter with bright eyes, “I have room for myself and two of your teammates. Please, tell me you’ll help with this.”
Toby leaned forward, waiting for Walter’s response. The desperation in Avah’s voice held a deeper meaning. After a brief moment, Paige stepped forward, placing a hand on both Walter and Sylvester’s shoulders. “Sly and I could pose as Chaz and Alyssa again, Walter,” she started, but Walter dismissed her suggestion with a shake of his head.
“Toby should go. It would provide the best vantage point for an efficient profile…and we need Happy to deal with whatever weapon or device they’re creating. ”
At that, Toby ran a hand through his hair, letting his finger pull through the tangles. The physical discomfort was nothing compared to what he was feeling inside. Why wasn’t he stronger? How come he couldn’t be the person he told himself he could be?
“Can’t I just go with Tim?” he suggested meekly, but the offer fell flat.
Walter folded his arms, “Very funny, Toby, but Tim has an appointment with his therapist, so he’ll be absent around here for awhile.” There was a slight pause, like he was almost unsure of how to choose his next words, “And we need Happy on this.”
Happy…
Her name cut through him like the dull blade of a knife. He wasn’t even sure if he was angry at her, or himself. He only knew that he would do anything to make her believe he was worth a risk. He probably could have hated her, he should have hated her, but he knew her too well for that...although maybe he didn’t know her as well as he had thought.
Walter’s voice drifted to him through the fog, “Where is Happy by the way?”
As if answering him, the door swung open with a deafening bang. And in walked a storm. It had been three days since Toby had last seen her, he should have had more control not to whip his head around as soon as the door slammed open. He
wished
he could have stared straight ahead, like this wasn’t killing him inside. But it was, and maybe it’d hurt less if he could admit it to himself that he was lost without her.