A/N I'm bored and feel like writing. Enjoy. :-)

Tracy POV

I couldn't stop crying.

I was sat in the toy cupboard, the door locked so no one else could get in, my knees up to my chest, sobbing.

And the light had just gone out.

Everything had been too much recently. The atmosphere at Elm Tree for the past few days had been tense, and every time I did something slightly wrong for one of the kids they got annoyed with me, when all I was doing was trying my best to make them happy.

And the rest of the time no one spoke to me.

Cam wasn't at home, Mike and Gina were too busy to notice me, and the kids had more important things to do.

And finally, something had had to give.

And that something was me.

And that was why I was here now.

I sniffled, trying to comfort myself. I'd learnt over the past few days that my own company would be the only company I was going to get.

Well, it was better than nothing at least.

I heard Gina's voice through the house, calling everyone for dinner, but I didn't move. I wasn't hungry anyway, and I didn't fancy sitting with a load of people that didn't really want me there.

I was better off by myself.


It was about ten minutes later when I heard my name being called.

I shut out the sound, pulling my knees closer, curling up so I felt safe, and to try and stop my anxiety.

To be honest, it wasn't really working.

"Tracy!" I recognised Mike's voice, and heard a hint of annoyance. "Tracy, you're missing dinner!"

It only took him a minute or so to get to the toy cupboard, and he tried the door.

"Tracy?" he said. "Are you in there?"

"Leave me alone," I said.

There was a moment of silence.

"Tracy," Mike's voice was much gentler this time. "Open the door for me."

He must have heard the tears in my voice.

"I said go away," I said.

More silence. Mike was probably trying to work out whether to take my instruction, or whether to stay.

There was some rustling from outside the door, before Mike spoke again.

"Can you please open the door, Trace?"

Trace.

He hadn't used that in a while.

I shook my head, even though I knew full well he couldn't see it, before I let out another sob.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked.

I took a deep breath to steady my voice. "Like you care! You haven't spoken to me all week!"

Mine was quiet for a moment, before he spoke again. "I spoke to you yesterday," he said. "I spoke to you for quite a while."

"Yeah, but only about staff stuff," I said. "And Gina was there too. You haven't even said hello without me saying it first."

There was such a long silence I thought Mike had left.

"And you haven't listened to me either," I said. "I've been feeling like this all week, but when I've tried to talk to you you've just been too busy to hear what I have to say."

"If you open the door we can talk about it properly," said Mike. "And I'm assuming you want a hug, by the crying I can hear."

"And why would you do that?" I asked.

"Because I care about you," said Mike. "I don't want you to be upset."

"Everyone says that, but they never show it," I said. I was talking about Cam at this point too. She wasn't around at the moment, when I needed her most.

And it hurt.

"Well if you come out I'll show you I care," said Mike. "Because even though things have been a bit off this week, doesn't mean I don't still care about you the way I always have."

I let out another sob, not sure of what to do. I wanted Mike, wanted a hug from someone who cared about me and loved me, but at the same time I just wanted him to go away and leave me alone.

"Can you open the door?" asked Mike.

I didn't say anything for a few moments, just crying, before I spoke. "Go away. I don't want to talk to you."

There was more silence.

"Trace?" said Mike softly. "Open the door."

I paused for a few moments, before I reached up and turned the key. Mike stood up and slowly opened the door. I looked down at the floor to avoid his gaze.

"You want a hug?" asked Mike.

I gave a small nod, but I didn't move.

Mike walked towards me, before he knelt down on the floor next to me and wrapped his arms around me.

I crumbled. The emotional exhaustion suddenly caught up with me, and as Mike hugged me tightly I closed my eyes, tears still rolling down my cheeks.

"I do still care about you," Mike said. "And I'm sorry about these past few days. I should have listened to you."

I just continued to sob.

"Do you want to tell me now?" asked Mike. When I didn't answer, he added, "I'm not leaving until you want me to."

I took a shaky breath before I answered him. "I've just been feeling lonely and unwanted."

"Why?" asked Mike.

"Everyone else has got better things to do than spend time with me," I said. The kids hate me, they've been getting annoyed with me all week, some of the shouting at me, and it's just like no one actually wants me around."

Mike was silent for a moment. "No one hates you," he said. "They're just all not going through a great time at the moment, and they just happen to be projecting their anger and frustration and whatever else they're feeling onto you. It's not really anything to do with you or anything you've done."

"What about you?" I asked.

Mike sighed. "I've just been busy trying to sort things out," he said. "I don't know, I just, keep getting caught up in things and then don't have the time to do anything else." He paused for a moment. "And I'm sorry about that. It wasn't fair on you."

"It's OK," I said. "I'm sorry for getting upset about it."

Mike gave me a smile. "There's no need to be sorry," he said. "You're allowed to be upset." He paused for a moment. "But I'm here for you now, and you don't need to be sad anymore." He gently dried my tears. "I'm not leaving, yeah?"

I gave a small smile, before I rested my head on his shoulder.

Everything was going to be OK.


I woke with a jolt.

I looked around my room, trying to work out what had happened.

And then I realised.

It had all been a dream.

I sighed as I rolled over, wishing it had been real.

I needed that hug so much.

As I looked at my clock I realised I still had hours left to sleep, so I closed my eyes to try and get some more rest before I went to work.

Work.

Where I'd see Mike.

I'd talk to him when I got there.

Hopefully he'd be just as caring as in my dream.

Part of me believed he would be (he was Mike, after all), but part of me doubted it.

If I got annoyed at Mike, he'd be more likely to tell me off and leave than he would be to stay and hug me.

I sighed.

I'd see what happened in the morning.

And that was the last thought I had before I cried myself to sleep.

A/N Well, I've never written and ending like that before. As I was writing it it all seemed a bit idealistic, so I thought of that idea to make it more realistic, and I like it. Hope you liked it too. Please review. :-)