A/N So, my anxiety decided that tonight would be a great time to give me restless legs. And so I was on my phone trying to distract myself and decided to watched Chain Reaction (I would say like always but man has it been a long time since I did that). Anyway, I was watching my favourite scenes (with Tracy and Mike in the quiet room and if you didn't know that go look at my profile) and analysing them and had an idea for a story and thought you know what, I'll write it. So I did. Hope you enjoy it.

I could tell she was struggling. Her face told me that much.

But I never expected her to hug me.

It was almost as if she were trying to comfort me after everything that had happened, giving me a small squeeze.

Trying to say sorry for the trouble she'd caused.

You don't need to, Sweetheart. You don't need to at all.

I could tell she was scared. Then again, I think even Gus would be able to work that out.

It was more than that though.

It was like I could see into her soul.

All her deepest fears.

The window was open where so many times before it had been closed.

Part of me felt as lost as Tracy. She hadn't told me much; she'd avoided most of my questions.

But her eyes...

They'd told everything she wasn't able to.

I could feel her body lightly shaking. I knew she was wondering if she'd done the right thing.

She'd never hugged me first before.

I gently put my arms around her. I could feel the action startled her, but then she relaxed, allowing herself to cry.

Her arm was still hugging me tight.

I could feel she was still apologising. Despite how awful she felt, I could almost see the years go by, as if she were listing off all the times she'd hurt me and saying sorry.

I gave her a squeeze.

It's OK.

I felt her relax a little at that, as if her mind had finally stopped tormenting her, reminding her of all the bad. Instead it was just allowing her to be loved and comforted.

I had a feeling she'd needed this for a while.

Her question pulled me from my thoughts, and I answered it as best I could without scaring her.

Growing up was absolutely terrifying, especially for someone like Tracy.

And I let her know that as gently as I could.

I lifted my head for a second, just looking down on her, working out how she was, when I felt the fear come back.

She gave a small shake of her head.

I gave her a gentle kiss, letting her know everything was OK, and that I wasn't leaving, nor did I plan to until she said it was OK.

She settled slightly.

As she continued to cry I could almost see her thoughts. Her mind was replaying the day's events, some of which I still didn't even know yet.

I could feel her tense slightly.

I gave her arm a stroke. It wasn't much, but I knew it would calm her, bring her back to the here and now.

I was right.

She was still hugging me tight, and I could feel her drawing comfort. Though I could still feel something...

"Stop saying sorry, Trace. You don't need to."

I said it out loud, knowing I needed to stop it now. Any more apologising was just going to make things worse.

"How did you know?"

I gave a small smile at Tracy's question. I didn't know how I knew, really. I just did.

I answered her with a squeeze.

She relaxed.

And then came the tears.

She'd been crying before, obviously. But the silence behind these tears was almost scary.

I wished at that point I had three hands.

Two to hug her as I was doing, and one to take her hand and squeeze it, letting her know that everything would be OK.

I could see it, but I knew that she couldn't right now.

I didn't want to interrupt the silence. I wanted to tell her what I knew, reassure her, but I knew more talking wasn't going to help Tracy.

She needed the time, in safety, to work through her emotions.

And I knew that was what I was offering her.

As we sat there I watched her process it all, giving her a gentle squeeze of a reminder when I sensed she was going too far down the wrong path.

Gradually she calmed.

By the end of it I could tell she was exhausted. Talking may have helped her feel less tired, but I knew that working it out for herself was the best.

I sensed there were still things she wasn't quite ready to tell me.

And I wasn't going to push.

Allowing her to work it through in her own head had allowed her to keep her secrets.

Secrets I knew she'd tell me when she was ready.

The silence was broken by Tracy's voice, quiet and full of apprehension.

"What will happen tonight?"

I didn't need to ask what she wanted to happen. And I didn't need to give her options.

"You're staying here."

She exhaled shakily, as if she hadn't been expecting the answer, least not so quickly.

Then again, she hadn't been reading me for the past half hour.

I hadn't realised it had been so long.

Tracy still wasn't ready to let go yet though, and I wasn't about to make her.

That would undo all my hard work.

And hers, for that matter.

So I allowed us to sit.

Tracy had closed her eyes at this point, and I could feel her body shutting down, desperately needing a rest.

I wasn't going to move her.

She may be more comfortable on a bed, and I may be able to get on with other things, but that wasn't the point.

She needed to feel safe.

And, by how settled she was, I knew that was the case.

Thankfully Gina had seen us go in and I'd given her a very brief explanation, so I knew she wouldn't mind me taking the time with Tracy.

The kids had all seen her collapse anyway, so they were unlikely to cause trouble.

So I allowed Tracy to sleep.

As she slept my mind sorted itself, working through what Tracy had told me, and the fact that it had taken all this just for her to do that.

I'd be far more careful putting the kids before her now.

I don't think I realised just how much of an impact that sentence had had.

I wasn't going to use it again.

I felt Tracy moving in her sleep, and I gently took her hand, giving it a squeeze.

She screamed.

I was startled as she shot up, her hand over her chest, her breathing heavy.

She looked into my eyes.

"I'm here," I said, as gently as I could. "It's OK."

Her eyes glistened with tears, and she sat there, seemingly not knowing what to do.

I wasn't going to make her ask for a hug twice.

I gently put my arm around her and pulled her close, almost onto my lap like she was a small child.

At the moment though, she needed that level of love and attention.

As she began to cry she hugged me tightly back, and I relaxed, hoping it would allow her to do the same.

It did.

As we sat in silence I allowed my thoughts to wonder, almost chastising myself for not working out sooner what was going on, not being able to stop Tracy's pain.

She gave me a small squeeze.

I gave her one back with a smile.

We sat there for a while longer, both of us just being in each other's company, both looking after each other.

Eventually Tracy pulled away, and as she looked me in the eyes she barely had to say the words.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Trace."

It might not have seemed like much to someone looking in. But that hug had made the world of difference to me, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what it had done for Tracy.

Her jitters from when she'd first come in were gone, and, though still sad and exhausted, I could tell she was far more at peace.

And I was so glad.

The dreaded sentence was true, of course, otherwise I would never have used it.

But I knew I would never let it get in the way of Tracy again.

She needed me, and, in a strange way, I needed her.

And as long as we had each other, I knew we'd be able to get through anything.

With that thought in my head I hugged her again, my arms round her shoulders this time in a hug of pure love.

She hugged me back.

And, as I was watching her, she smiled.

I couldn't help but smile back.

My work was done.

And she was going to be OK.

A/N Hope you liked it. Please review. :-)