Anger Management

I'll Take Care of You

Happy ground her teeth at the sharp pain in her hands, and hit the punching bag again. She hadn't bothered to wear boxing gloves, not wanting to waste any time before beginning her attack on the bag. Besides, this way it felt like she was punishing herself too. Punishing herself for thinking that there was something special between her and Toby, for thinking that he was different. That he might care.

With each punch, her knuckles grew redder and redder. She had clenched them so tight that she almost hadn't noticed. She wasn't stupid; she knew that if she continued hitting the heavy bag with her bare knuckles, she would injure herself. Yet she couldn't bring herself to stop.

It had been two days since Happy's standoff with Katja, and Toby had been trying to get a hold of her ever since. Her phone rang at least ten times a day and her voicemail inbox was full. She also got tons of messages from him, but she didn't dare open it. She didn't care what he had to say for himself.

Even now, she heard her phone ringing through her ragged breaths. She glanced at the caller ID and sure enough, it was Toby.

She pressed the decline button and resumed her onslaught. Rubbing her sore knuckles, she decided to take a break. She sat down on the bench and looked at the people exercising.

After twenty minutes, Happy was surprised Toby hadn't called again. Usually his phone calls increased in persistency, even when she didn't pick up. So now he was giving up on her? She thought. Fine. She was done with him.

She got back to boxing, this time using gloves. As she worked out her frustrations, she couldn't help but wonder why Toby wasn't calling. Maybe she should call and find out if he was okay...

Happy quickly stopped that train of thought. She was not going to be the one crawling back to him. She would not be the one to initiate the conversation.

After another twenty minutes, though, she really began to worry. This really was unlike his usual behaviour. She wandered over to her phone and decided to call him. She reasoned with herself that she just wanted to find out if he was okay, but she knew it was more than that.

She dialled his number and pressed the phone to her ear. After four rings, he picked up. "Come," he said, his voice hoarse. Happy started asking if he was okay when he hung up.

She couldn't deny the emotion she heard in his voice, and if she ever thought he wasn't okay, this proved it. She quickly stripped off her boxing gloves and went to change. She was going to see Toby.

**

She arrived at Toby's door in record time, but delayed knocking. She wasn't sure who would answer the door this time, or even if she wanted to be there. Just before she decided to turn around and leave, the door opened.

Toby stood in front of her and Happy heard herself gasp.

His eyes were red-rimmed and slightly swollen, as if he had been crying. His mouth was turned down, which Happy had never seen, not even when they were arguing. He looked broken.

He gestured for her to follow him inside, and she followed without a second thought. His apartment was nicer than she thought it'd be: it was warm and sunny, despite all the curtains being closed. Although, at this point, Happy's mind was certainly not on the decor.

When Toby walked in front of her, she saw his hair was unruly, as if he had been running his hands through it all day. Happy was no psychiatrist, but she could tell something was seriously wrong.

When he offered her a drink, his voice cracked. He tried again, this time succeeding. Happy shook her head no and Toby sat down on his couch, Happy seated opposite him.

He looked her in the eye, then looked back down at his hands. "I suppose you're here for a reason?"

"What's going on with you, Toby?" Happy asked, doing her best to sound as concerned as she felt.

Toby ran a hand through his hair and sighed, before putting his head in his hands. His shoulders began shaking.

Happy was at a loss. She had no idea what to do; she had never comforted anyone before.

She decided to sit next to him and awkwardly put her hand on his back. His shoulders had stopped shaking, and he seemed to be regaining his composure. He looked her in the eye before he started speaking.

"About two weeks ago, I got a call telling me that my mother had been admitted to an asylum. They said her bipolarity had spiralled out of control, and she had very nearly killed someone."

By then, Toby had started crying again, tears silently dripping from his already wet eyes. Happy looked at his wet eyelashes and felt her heart clench.

Toby laughed bitterly before continuing. "You see, I haven't seen her in years. Dad always said she was fine, that he was taking care of her. Apparently, his care consisted of him going out to gamble while she stayed at home by herself. Sounds familiar," he muttered the last part.

"This isn't your fault, Toby," Happy said softly. She rubbed his back with one hand and took hold of his chin with the other, making his eyes meet hers.

His eyes darkened. "Oh, but it is all my fault, Happy. Don't you see? I became a psychiatrist to help people like her, and her specifically. I spent my teenage years reading texts on how to improve her quality of life. See?" He stood up and started pacing in front of Happy. "No matter how many degrees I have, or how high my IQ is, I couldn't help her. I am responsible for her being locked up in some faraway asylum because I didn't see this coming, I didn't pay attention to her. It is my fault."

Toby fell down onto the couch next to Happy and started sobbing heavily. Happy was at a loss for words. She didn't know how to convince Toby that he couldn't be held responsible for what happened to his mother, he shouldn't hold himself responsible. She couldn't find the words to tell him how amazing he was and how much he meant to her, and how he should never, ever, feel this much pain.

Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight to her. If she couldn't tell him how important he was, she would show him. Toby stiffened in her arms and hiccuped softly. His crying had stopped but his body was still shaking relentlessly.

She nuzzled her nose into his neck and he put his arm around her, shifting her closer to him. She looked up slowly and wondered where all the space between them had disappeared to. His hazel eyes were wide and fixed on hers, a question in his gaze. Happy licked her lips and shifted even closer to him. His cheeks were flushed and for the second time that month, she felt their breath mingle. His lips were close, so close, when suddenly she breached the distance between them.

She felt Toby's lips move against hers, tantalisingly slow and soft and perfect. He brought his hand to her head, gliding his fingers through her silky hair. She reciprocated by placing her hand on his chest. Beneath her palm, Happy felt Toby's heart beating as fast and hard as hers was.

After a moment of bliss, the two broke apart and stared into each other's eyes. Happy brought her hand to his face, and slowly wiped away his tears. He smiled and closed his eyes against her touch.

Happy pulled her hand away and started standing up, before she felt her wrist being gripped. Looking down, she saw Toby with an anxious look on his face. She crossed the distance between them before pressing a kiss to each of his eyelids, and then his lips. When she pulled away, again, she said, "It's not your fault. Don't beat yourself up over this."

Toby nodded and looked down at his hands. "Just... what was Katja doing here the other day?" Happy asked.

Toby looked her in the eye and said, "She had come to fetch some old stuff she had left here before, just after I got the news. She took care of me."

Happy nodded once, stiffly, before relaxing again. "Toby, you have my number. If you ever need taking care of, call me and I'll be here." She said earnestly.

Toby cracked a small smile, before muttering, "You could take care of me any day."

Happy laughed, despite herself. She was glad Toby seemed to be feeling better.

"So," she said, "I'm going to leave now. Don't beat yourself up, Doc. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He smiled at her and nodded his head yes. He was still smiling when she walked out of the apartment.