hold me really tight (until the stars look big) - I

Mica shoots him a pointy look. 'Go at least put on a shirt.'
Tate pulls up one eyebrow. 'Stop acting like you're fine.'

Jael is already out of the kitchen in the guest room and searches thr bags for something to wear. She chooses easy jeans and a brown sweater and fixes her hair in the bathroom, still amazed on how good the blonde color looks on her.
Her thoughts shift away to Tate again and she's weak in her knees for a moment, then thinks hell no, that's not how I'm supposed to feel but she does. She covers her face with her hands and tries to think about Denny, about the amazing sex they had and how warm his hugs were, about the way he used to call her 'my little girl’ and how he would brush her hair out of her face before kissing the tip of her nose. But then there's the memories of the countless times he called her a useless slut and how he used to hit her when he was having a bad day, how she'd start to cry and he'd beg her to forgive her because he loved her and she would.
She sinks to her knees, arms around her lower waist, crying hot tears. It's too much. It's all too much. She loved Denny as she loved Kyle and Jason and now there's Tate and memories and bare skin and butterflies and she can't--

Tate walks into the room to put on a shirt when he finds her. 'Fuck, Jael?' He crouches down next to her. 'Are you okay--fuck, of course you're not okay. C'mon, whats going on?' He holds her shoulders, tries not to crowd her.

Jael keeps shaking her head, trying to stop the tears from flowing. 'I'm okay, I'm fine, I'm okay,' she whispers. His touches are too much. His fingers are burning her skin and the crying gets worse. 'Leave me alone,' she begs him, though she doesn't want him to go at all.
Images of Jason with a knife in his hands, white teeth flashing, she can't turn of the screaming in her head. Kyle's hands are everywhere and she swats them away and then they're Tate's and she flinches, screams at him to stop touching her.

Tate lets her go, but doesn't leave her. He sits, tells Macy to get a wet towel and a class of ice water when she comes to see what's wrong, takes Jael's hands in his. 'Breathe with me, okay?' he says. He turns her around, her back to his torso so she can feel it rise with every inhale. 'Breathe with me,' he murmurs into her ear. 'Can you do that for me? C'mon Jael, just copy my breaths.'

Jael struggles at first, still scared, still hearing Jason's voice and Kyle's and Denny's and then there's Tate's and she breathes, slowly, with him. She's shaking and still crying but she starts to come back into reality, slowly. Tate's here. Tate's with her and she feels safe and alright, and Jason, Kyle and Denny are gone.

Mica comes back and gives |Tate the glass and the towel. He pushes the cold cloth to her head and keeps breathing.

Jael closes her eyes, but opens them wide as images flash before her eyes again. Breathing. She's fine. Breathe.
'I can't do this,' she whispers, her voice broken. She's shaking, doesn't have control over her body.

Tate smiles, keeps taking deep breaths, murmurs: 'Yes you can. Don't think, just keep breathing.'

Jael closes her eyes again, breathes with him. It takes a while, but eventually her heartbeat finally slows down and the panic slowly vanishes. Tate is holding her the entire time, not once letting her go even a little. She's safe. She's with him and she hasn't felt safer in her entire life.

Tate gives her the glass of water. 'Drink.'

Jael takes the glass with both hands and empties it immediately. She avoids Tate's eyes, a bit ashamed, unsure what he'll think of her now. 'I'm sorry,' she murmers. 'Didn't mean to freak out like that.'

Tate's response is immediate, not harsh, but immediate: 'Don't ever apologise for panic attacks you have no control over.'

Jael looks at him. 'It's fucked up. I'm not supposed to have panic attacks.' Her voice is a bit hoarse. 'I'm over that shit.' Tears are making her vision blurry and she rubs her eyes.

Tate laughs humourlessly. 'You're never over that shit,' he says. 'You can learn how to fight it, how to control it, how to stop it, but you're never over that shit.'

Jael shakes her head, a tear running down her cheek. She doesn't move, doesn't speak. She hates that she opened up to him just as much as he hates that he opened up to her.

Tate wipes away the tear, shakes his head. 'I promise I'll never make you talk about it if you promise me one little thing.'

Jael shivers at his touch and looks at him. 'What?' she asks, her voice breaking again as she tries to fight more tears.

'When you get a panic attack, you come to me. You never have to talk about what causes them, you never have to talk about anything, you just come to me, and I'll help you get through it. That's all.'

A slight smile crosses Jael's face. 'I promise.' And without any hesitation she gives him a hug, whispering a 'thank you' in his ear.

Tate stills, hugs back uncomfortably, but genuine. 'No problem, Jay.'

Jael laughs a little. 'You're the first one to ever call me that,' she admits. She holds him tightly. 'It sounds good.'

Tate shrugs. 'Suits you.'

[i]Jael[/b] smiles. 'Thank you.' She's silent for a moment. 'I better go tell Mica I'm okay.' She scrambles to her feet and reaches out her hand so he can get up too.

Tate smiles, lets her help him up and joins her when they walk out to Mica, who is drinking chocolate milk on the livingroom couch scrolling through her phone.

Jael sits down at the armchair near the window, pulling her legs to her body. Polar immediately comes asking for cuddles and lays down on the floor before Jael's chair.
She doesn't say anything at first, still thinking about what happened and what caused it.

Tate gives Mica the we'll-talk-later look and Mica nods, shrugs, looks at him and says: 'He didn't text me.'

Jael bends over to scratch Polar behind his ears and bites down on her lower lip. Quietly she watches Mica. She looks devastated, though she's sure she'll never admit she feels like that.

Tate looks pained. 'Do you think he's at G&B? I want to talk to him.'
Mica shoots him a look.
'Just talk, I promise. It was a one time thing.'
She shrugs, then. 'I guess so? Why not text him?'
Tate looks her dead in the eye. 'I don't want him to be able to run before I get there.'
'You're just gonna talk to him, right?' Mica stresses.
He nods. 'Promise.'

Jael frowns. 'Did you knock him up once?' she asks, her eyes fixed on Tate.

'Maybe,' Tate says at the same time that Mica sneers: 'Like four times.'
'He only had to go to the hospital one time!' Tate exclaims. 'The other three times he was being a baby about it. He didn't even need stitches.'

'You've… seriously beaten someone to the point he needed to go to the fucking hospital?!' Her voice cracks and her eyes are spitting fire.

Tate and Mica roll their eyes simultaneously.
'It was nothing,' she says.
'He wanted Mica to try and smuggle cocaine into the US on their trip back from Dubai.'
Mica: 'I didn't do it, though.'
Tate: 'He deserved it.'

Jael calms down and stares at Mica. 'Oh. So… Oh.' She nods in realization.

Mica smiles. 'It's been years, though. Don't worry. Vince's a good guy, really.'
'Most times,' Tate mutters. He stands up. 'I'm going to get dressed and then I'm going to pay your baby daddy a visit. Jael, do you mind staying in with Mica?'

Jael shakes her head. 'No, of course not.' She gives him a slight smile. 'I'll keep her busy.' Polar decides he doesn't get enough attention so he jumps up the chair on Jael's lap, almost making her invisible behind the cloud of white hair. She laughs, a genuine, happy laugh, and closes her arms around him.

Tate looks at Jael, smiling, and walks towards the guest room. Mica turns to her. 'Hey, anything you wanna talk about?'

Jael shooes Polar (he's too heavy for her fragile body) and looks at Mica, hesitating. 'I um…' she starts. 'I don't know… I'm just… Tate is fucking with my mind. I don't think he's really aware of it, though.' She lowers her gaze.

'Fucking with your mind how?' Mica inquires.

Jael tells her about yesterday evening and how they woke up this morning. 'He keeps having this look in his eyes and it drives me crazy,' she groans.

Mica laughs outright. 'Damn, you saw him naked?' She then raises one eyebrow. 'Crazy as in I-really-wanna-get-out-of-here-he-creeps-me-out crazy or as in I-should-not-feel-this-way-but-I-maybe-want-to-kiss-him-maybe-maybe-maybe-probably crazy?'

Jael's cheeks fluster a little bit and she bites her lower lip. 'I think the last one…?' It comes out more like a question than a confession. She's clasping her hands in her lap, sitting legs crossed on the chair.

Mica smiles reassuringly. 'Darling, honestly, it's totally normal. Tate is a handsome, charming guy, no wonder you feel attracted to him. Don't worry about it, I think he knows, but he will never act upon it if he knows you don't want to. Or aren't ready.' She shrugs.

Jael nods, incredibly relieved Mica doesn't think she's crazy. 'I um… kind of panicked because of that,' she admits, her voice really quiet. 'And a lot of other things, but also that.'

Mica smiles again. 'If you want to talk about the other things, you can come to me, though. But honestly, Tate would never do anything against your will. Not--not now he's back to normal.'

Jael nods. 'I'm not--I don't want to.' Her voice is unstable. 'I don't want to think about it. It's eating me alive,' she breathes. She fights her tears.

Mica takes her hand and smiles reassuringly. It looks sad. 'You don't have to.'
Tate walks back into the room, dressed in jeans that seem painted on and a shirt that makes his shoulders look seventeen times broader than normal. Mica tells him so. He flips her the bird.

Jael laughs a bit. She loves seeing how they are together. The best of friends. 'Tate, before you go… Can I charge my phone?' She gives him a pleading look.

Tate stills for a moment, then nods harshly. He points at her: 'No saying where you are, no mentioning of anything that could lead to anything about Mica, Vince, me or anyone. Don't message too many people, turn off the GPS and if either me or Mica suspect anything that could compromise our situation, we want immediate insight in what you are doing and who you are texting. Am I clear?'

Jael swallows hard. 'Yes. I promise I won't give anything away.' She feels so fragile now she realizes Tate is still in charge.