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

Tate smiles apologetically. 'Sorry, I get hot. I put on pants for you, though.' He puts his phone in the charger on the nightstand, doesn't look at her.

Jael can't help but stare. He's really good-looking, unfortunately. "Oh... Thank you, I guess." She smiles a bit. "Any sleeping habits I need to know?" She clasps her hands in her lap, sitting with her legs crossed on 'her' side of the bed.

Tate goes still for two entire seconds before he turns to Jael with a flashing smile. 'No, nothing.' Then: 'You?'

Jael shakes her head. "No, not really... Not that I know of. It's been a while since I—you know—slept with someone in one room." She gives him a shy smile. "So it's for you to find out if I developed something."

Tate smiles at her. 'Alright then.' He crawls in bed, checks his phone for the last time and turns off the lamp on the nightstand.

Jael crawls under the warm blankets, heaves a deep sigh and closes her eyes. "Sleep tight," she whispers and turns to her side, taking the time to get comfortable.

Tate doesn't respond. His eyes are closed. He listens to the house. It's been a while since he's slept here.

Jael falls asleep quickly, facing Tate, hugging her head pillow like she always does.

Tate dreams about copper and thick blood. It's in his eyes, in his mouth, in his nose--he can't breathe, he can't breathe. He hears Macy ("Asshole!"), he hears seven year old Vicki ("Can we make a snowman, Tate? Can we make a snowman? ", he hears his mother, he hears Macy again ("Stop trying to ruin my life!"), fifteen year old Vicki: ("I hate you!")--there's too much blood. He's sitting in front of Tina Weddler, and she smiles at him like he didn't kill her, and her throat is clean. There's a knife in her hand, and she raises it, and he flinches, repeats she's dead she's dead she's dead, but she's there, and she smiles so genuine. Her voice is wicked, her voice is wicked. She says: 'Hello, Tate.', raises the knife. Tate can't stop looking. Tina Weddler slits her own throat. She gurgles when she talks. 'Goodbye, Tate.'
Tate wakes up.

Jael is right there when he wakes with a start, keeping his one hand from slapping her in the face. 'Hey, it's alright,' she says, her voice just a whisper. 'You're alright.'

Tate shakes his head, breathes through his mouth and tries to calm himself down. 'Go back to sleep,' he says, 'Just... let me... Just go--back to sleep.' He doesn't look at her, he can't look at her.

Jael refuses. "Do you want a glass of water?" She keeps holding his hand, doesn't let him go. He's shaking and he's not okay.

Tate stays quiet, doesn't know if he should get it himself or accept the help. He's shivering. 'Yeah,' he says eventually. 'Yeah I could go with that.'

Jael squeezes his hand a little and then lets him go, slips out of bed and walks over to the bathroom. A few moments later she comes back sitting on the bed again. She gives him the glass, filled with ice cold water. "You have nightmares often?" She smiles a bit to reassure him she's not judging.

Tate sips quietly. 'Didn't use to. Until Macy--until she died.'

Jael nods silently and sits with him a little while, just in silence. She's hugging her pillow and watches him drink the water, thinking of something to say. "You should write them down," she then says. "Your bad thoughts. Everything on your mind. It helps. I did it too, after—after the shit I went through." She smiles sadly. "And maybe when you manage to cope with them, you can destroy everything you wrote down. It's a relief to do that."

Tate shrugs. 'Might give it a try. Never really been good with talking, maybe writing works for me.'

Jael pushes a lock of her hair back behind her ear. "I noticed," she says with a slight smile. "About the talking, I mean. It's okay to talk, though. I'm—I'm willing to listen."

Tate smiles hesitantly. 'It's not you,' he says. 'I'm just not good with talking with anyone. Except maybe Mica--but she tortures you into talking, so I don't think that counts.' He places the glass on the nightstand. 'Go back to sleep. I'll be fine.'

Jael laughs a little and then nods quietly. "Sleep well..." She gives him a genuine smile. "You can wake me up whenever you feel like it." She crawls back under the blankets.

Tate nods, and lies awake staring at the ceiling for a while. He doesn't know if Jael's asleep, but murmurs a thank you anyway.

Jael's already deep asleep by that time. The next thing she knows is opening her eyes and seeing daylight—and smelling Tate's shower gel. She's to sleepy to realize she's crept up to Tate while sleeping and now laying with her head on his chest.

Tate sleeps restlessly, but no more nightmares haunt his mind.

Jael closes her eyes again and then it hits her. She sits straight up, looks down on Tate. Oh god, please don't notice, she pleads without any sound.

Tate opens one eye, a sleepy smirk adorning his face. 'God, finally. I've been up for like an hour.'

Jael takes a deep breath to surpress the urge to curse. 'You're kidding, right?' A warm blush flusters her cheeks. She bites down on her lower lip and glances away.

Tate sits up, the duvets pooling in his lap, his muscles flexing as he pops joints and groans. He's half asleep still, eyes lidded. 'Nope. I've been dozing for about an hour. Didn't want to wake you.'

Jael groans, covers her eyes with one hand. 'I'm sorry. Old habits die hard. I guess I somehow thought you were Denny.' It's strange mentioning his name in Tate's presence, especially after the last twelve hours.

Tate falls back into the pillows. Casually: 'Denny?'

'My boyfriend.' Jael's silent for a moment. 'My ex-boyfriend.' Her voice has a strange tone.

Tate doesn't say anything. She sounds weird. 'You okay?' he asks, eventually.

Jael shakes her head. 'No, I'm not.' She smiles sadly. 'He was my everything and my parents shooed him away from me.'

Tate says nothing.

Jael takes a deep sigh. 'But hey, I'm getting over him.' She gives him a smile, a genuine one. 'Let's see if Mica's awake…' She pushes away the blankets, but it's cold to her bare legs.

As turns out, Mica had been awake for a while. She also threw up twice ("goddamn morning sickness"), but smiled as they entered the kitchen anyway. 'Goodmorning, sweethearts.'

Jael smiles a bit. 'Good morning,' she says, her cheeks still having a slight blush.

Mica smiles back. Tate frowns. 'Are you okay?'
The blonde nods. 'Yeah, I'm great. Just weird to wake up without him, I guess.'

Jael doesn't say anything, just sits down at the table and yawns. Quietly she watches Tate and Mica and she's a bit jealous and when she realizes that, she can't believe herself.

'I am going to talk to him today,' Tate says, taking her hand. 'And then we're going to get out of here, okay? You're going to take some days off, maybe Vicki wants to cover some of your shifts, she can use the extra money. Anyway, we're getting out of here.' He looks at Jael. 'The three of us.'

Jael raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Where do you want to go?" She sits up straight, pushing her stubborn hair out of her face.

Mica smiles, nods. Tate shrugs. 'We'll see. Somewhere warm.' He looks at Mica. 'Beach?'
She nods, happily. 'Yeah. Beach.'

Jael smiles a little and folds her hands in her lap. Her eyes wander off to Tate again, unaware she's again checking him out.

Tate tries to find Jael's gaze and winks.

And immediately Jael's cheeks turn bright red again. "I need to pee," she mutters and within moments she's out of the kitchen.

Mica grins knowingly. 'Stop eyefucking the poor girl, Tate.'
'I was not!'
(He was.)

Jael hides on the toilet, her cheeks burning. She just knows Tate knows exactly what he's doing and she's not sure if she likes it or not.

Mica shoots him a pointed look. Tate sighs. 'Okay, okay. I'll behave.'

Jael comes back a few minutes later. She sits down at the table again, avoiding Tate's eyes carefully. She looks at Mica. "Did you sleep?" she asks.

Mica looks at Tate a bit guiltily, then turns to Jael, smiles, and says: 'Yeah, I did. Thanks. Did you?'
Tate gives her a warning look. She pouts.

Jael laughs a bit and shoots Tate a look and then says: "We were fine." She stretches herself and gets up. "I'm going to get dressed. I'll help you with breakfast after that, Mica."