It's Hell

by IHSeries

Chapter 5. TW: Suicide. On Tracy's first day in hospital she has a dream about taking all those pills, and dreams about calling Mike. As she goes through a day of illness and fear she really begins to wish she'd been able to do that in real life. Luckily for her Mike is still there, right by her side, through the worst time of her life. Written by x snow-pony x

A/N I'm getting more confident with this! I first referenced Tracy's first day in hospital in I'm Haunted, sort of as a way to write it without having to really include it. And now we have a thousands of words long story on it. Not really one to enjoy, but hope you find something good in reading it!

Tracy POV

I dial the number for Elm Tree.

"Hello, Elm Tree House."

"Gina." Tears are rising in my eyes. "I need to talk to Mike."

Gina can clearly hear the tone of my voice. "What's wrong, Tracy?"

"Just get Mike."

"I am, I'm just going to find him." Now that she's said it, I can hear her moving through the house. "Mike. It's Tracy. Something's wrong."

Mike takes the phone. "What's going on?"

A lump forms in my throat. I can't speak.

"Tracy? Are you there?"

I swallow it as best I can. "I need help."

"Where are you?"

"At home."

"And what's happened?"

"Just get here now!"

"Ok." Mike's voice has a concerned edge to it, but no anger. "I'm on my way. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

"No, Mike, don't go."

"I can't call you while I'm driving, Tracy."

"Don't go. I mean it. I don't think I'll manage if you go."

"You'll be ok, Tracy."

"I won't. Please, Mike. It's really important."

Mike sighs. "Ok. I'll put it on speaker and on the passenger seat. I can't do any more than that."

"Ok."

I can hear Mike as he puts the phone down, then as he begins to drive.

"I'm scared, Mike."

"I know, I know you are." There's a pause. "What's happened, Tracy? What's going on?"

"I, I..."

"Ok. I'll find out when I get there."

Mike stays on be phone with me, a steady voice in all this turmoil. I look at the pills and place the box away from me slightly. I can't take them with Mike listening.

Soon I hear a car pull up.

"Tracy, I'm here. Come and let me in."

I'm frozen to the bed. "I, I can't."

"Have you got a spare key?"

"I, yes, underneath the mat."

I hear the key going in the lock, and Mike hangs up the phone.

"Tracy? Where are you?"

"In here."

Mike comes to my bedroom first. "Tracy. Talk to me. What's happened?"

I hand him the box of pills. There's nothing else I can do.

Mike swears like I did. Then he composes himself. "Ok. It's ok." He looks to me. "Are these for a suicide attempt?"

I nod.

Mike seems frozen. I knew it would be a shock for him to see this, but I also knew I couldn't fight that voice alone.

"Oh Mike I'm so sorry." I sniffle as tears begin to make their way down my cheeks. "I shouldn't have called. I'm so sorry."

Mike finally seems to snap out of it. "Oh Tracy, no." He puts the box of pills out of my reach, then sits on the bed next to me and holds me tight. "You did the right thing. Really, really well done. I'd hate to have seen you take that many tablets."

"I, I'm pathetic, though. I should have been able to do it."

"No no no, Tracy, that's not a good thing. You have been so strong in resisting that voice. I'm so proud of you for picking up the phone."

"Proud?"

"Really, really proud. You did so well." He pauses for a moment. "We need to get you to the hospital, though. They'll be able to keep you safe, give you someone to talk to."

"I don't want to go to hospital."

"I know. But you need to."

"I don't want to." I run my hand down my arm.

Mike grabs my wrist.

"Get off."

"Shh. It's ok."

"Get off!"

"Hey, easy, Trace. You're not well."

"Let me go!"

"Just lie still. I don't want you ripping your drip out."

"My drip? Drip? Mike?"

Mike begins to fade. As I come to, a new Mike is looking at me, but this one is real.

"Mike?"

"Are you ok? You were shouting for me to get off."

"I, I had a dream. About all those pills."

"Oh Trace."

"I, I called you. I remember when I was taking them, I had this moment where I thought about calling you. And in my dream I actually did it."

"Oh Tracy." Mike tries to pull me into a hug.

"No, Mike." I'd give anything for a hug, but sickness is quickly rising within me. "I feel sick. Can you ask them if I can have more anti sickness?"

Mike goes and comes back with a nurse. She looks at my chart.

"I'm sorry, Tracy, you only had it a couple of hours ago. You're not due any yet."

I sigh. Time doesn't mean anything in here, especially when I'm asleep and have no idea how much has passed when I wake up. "Ok. Thank you anyway."

The nurse leaves. Mike sits back next to me, and puts a hand on my arm.

"Get off! Please."

"Sorry," Mike removes his hand, "I'd forgotten you don't want to be touched at all."

"I want a hug." Tears begin to make their way down my cheeks. "But I'm too ill."

Mike sighs. "I wish you'd had the strength in real life to call me."

"So I'm weak and useless now, is that it?"

"I never said that, and you know it." Mike's voice is firm, chastising even. "I just wish you hadn't had to go through this."

"I'm sorry."

"No. It wasn't your fault."

I begin to sob.

"Can I hold you, Trace?"

"No. I'll be sick."

"You always feel better once you've been sick. Would it not be better to get it out of the way?"

A wave of sickness hits. I push myself up. "Bowl."

I usually grab it myself. But I can't remember exactly where I put it and I know I don't have long.

Mike holds the bowl in front of me as my stomach empties.

He goes to take it away.

"No, I..." I heave again.

He waits for me to finish. "You ok?"

I nod, then lie back down as Mike takes the bowl away. He puts his hand on my hair.

"I don't feel well."

"I know, Trace." He gives me a small smile. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Can I have a hug?"

Mike goes to lift me up.

"No, Mike. I don't feel well."

Mike lets me go, then slides an arm under me like he did last night. As he puts his other arm over the top I take his hand, squeezing it tight.

"Ow, don't break it!"

"Sorry."

"No, I was only joking." He gives me a squeeze. "You're lucky it's you, this is not comfortable!"

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I don't want to make you more unwell. I'm ok here."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, Tracy. If it'll help you I'm happy to stay."

I settle into his arms, closing my eyes. Mike was right: now I've been sick I feel a bit better, and can have a break before the next wave comes.

"Tracy, would I be able to take some blood please?"

I let out a loud noise of frustration.

No, I'm comfortable, you can go away and leave me alone to rest.

"Tracy?"

"I don't want to."

"He needs to do it, Trace." Mike gives my hand a squeeze. "Come on."

"I don't want to move."

"If you let me get to your arm, Tracy, you can stay where you are."

I sigh, but nod. Mike moves his arm so I can put mine over his. The nurse comes to look for a vein, putting a tourniquet on my arm.

"Are your veins usually this hard to find?" he asks after a few moments of prodding.

"They have been since I came in."

"Make a fist for me."

I do as I'm told.

"Ah, there were go." He takes a needle. "Sharp scratch."

The needle goes in. I whimper as it's pushed around, testing to find the vessel.

Mike gives me a squeeze.

"Sorry." The nurse tries for a few moments more, before he takes the needle out. "No, I'm sorry. Let me have another go."

"Just leave me alone."

"Tracy, come on." Mike's voice is kind, but there's a hint of firmness. "You need this doing."

"No. I don't feel well."

"Let me just have one more go, and then if I can't manage it then I'll ask someone to come down in half an hour or so. Does that sound ok?"

"Ok."

The nurse searches for another vein, then another needle goes in. I breathe a sigh of relief as I see it filling with blood.

And then it stops short.

"Oh come on." The nurse wiggles the before around a little. "Just a little bit more."

He pushes it in further. I let out another whimper.

"Sorry. I'm just trying to find some more blood."

I whine at the pain.

He sighs, pulling the needle out. "I think that'll be just enough. We might try again later, but I'll send this off for now."

"Ok."

"Thank you." Mike gives the nurse a smile back.

He gives him a smile, collects the equipment, and leaves.

"I just want them to leave me alone."

"I know. But they have to do their job, Tracy. They need to make you better. If you don't let them do that then you'll be feeling like this for longer."

I push him off. Mike's supposed to be on my side.

"Hey, come on," Mike says with a hint of sternness.

"No. Leave me alone. I don't feel well and now you're telling me off too."

Mike sighs. "Can I not give you a hug?"

"Just leave me alone!"

I begin to sob. Being left alone is the last thing I want right now, but I just don't feel able to deal with anything at the moment.

"Mike," I say weakly.

He gently slips his arm under me again, then holds me tight.

"Mike."

"Shh, I'm here. I'm here. I've got you, Tracy. You're ok. Just rest."

"I'm tired."

"Then go to sleep. Are you still not feeling sick?"

"At the moment."

"Then sleep. I'm here. I won't let go, I promise."

I trust Mike's promises, of course I do. But my head is so confused at the moment that I feel it necessary to move the hand of the arm over me so my head is resting on it.

Mike chuckles, gently stroking my cheek. "Well I'm definitely not going anywhere now!"

I settle almost instantly. It's the little things at the moment that are keeping me calm. Mike's gentle touch on my cheek sends his love through me.

"You ok?"

I don't answer. It feels like everything's been taken out of me at the moment. I squeeze Mike's hand lightly in response.

"You must be tired." Mike leans over and gives me a kiss. "I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

I close my eyes. I'm so unwell at the moment that sleeping seems to be the only thing I'm doing. Mike must be so bored.

I move his hand out from under my head. "I'm sorry. You can go, come back when I'm awake if you want. It can't be much fun."

Mike places his hand back. "I'm here for you today, Tracy. I don't care how long I have to sit here as long as you're getting the rest you need."

"You promise?

"I promise. You're the one in the bed. We focus on you today."

I settle down, more ready for sleep than I've ever been in my life. Then I groan internally. "I think I need to use the bathroom."

"Do you want me to ask them?"

I nod, despite how much I don't want to. I don't want to stand up again, with how unwell the last time left me feeling.

Mike comes back with a nurse and a wheelchair toilet. She pulls the curtains round as she leaves.

"Do you need help standing again?"

"Please."

Mike comes to help me up, taking my hands. I use him to pull myself up, then I stop. The world fades to black for a moment.

"You ok?"

I don't answer Mike, my head spinning too much to get words out. I stumble slightly.

"Easy, I've got you." Mike takes my weight, holding my upright. "Do you want to sit back down?"

The dizziness passes. "No. I'm not doing that again." I lean on Mike for a moment, my whole body aching. I seem to be getting worse rather than better.

"Just take your time, I've got you."

I take a few moments just to stand, just to let my body get used to being upright. Then I manage to hold myself up, and go towards the wheelchair.

"You ok?"

"Yeah."

"I'll give you a minute." Mike goes outside, knowing I don't need an audience.

I'm thankful for the chance to sit down, though still everything hurts. My head feels heavy. The bed next to me is so inviting, but sadly I have to get there first.

I take longer than I need, just to sit. To prepare myself for getting back to bed. Part of me is worried I'm not capable, that I should call Mike to help.

I decide I've got a little bit of dignity left.

After a few more moments I push myself up, and stumble the few steps to the bed, almost falling onto it. I pull my legs up and curl into a ball. Everything hurts.

"Mike?" My voice is weak, strained. I'm not even sure if he'll hear me.

Mike comes through the curtains, taking his place by my bed. "You ok?"

I can't help the tears that come to my eyes. Such simple things as going to the toilet have become almost impossible. I'm sick and tired, quite literally.

"I shouldn't have taken them. This isn't worth it."

Mike's face softens. "No. But we'll get you better, you'll see. You'll be ok."

"It hurts."

"I know. But you can't have painkillers, Trace."

"I know that."

"Of course you do."

Mike is quiet for a moment, then he rests his hand on the bed next to me. I place my hand in his.

I'm sorry. I really wish I'd called you."

Mike sighs. "I wish you had too. I hate seeing you this ill."

I close my eyes. Of course, now I'm finally able to get to sleep, the sickness is back.

I begin to cry. I don't want to be here anymore.

"Shh, it's ok. It's ok." Mike gives my hand a squeeze.

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can. All you need to do at the moment is lie and rest."

"I can't do this, Mike."

"You can. There's nothing to do. All you have to do is lie down."

"There was sticky toffee pudding on the menu for lunch. And I just feel so sick I can't even eat it. I'll never take food for granted again."

Mike chuckles slightly. "I'll get Gina to make you one when you're better." He pauses for a moment. "But that means you need to get better. Now come on. Rest, please."

I settle into the bed. "Mike?"

"Yes?"

"I..." I don't feel able to ask. I open my eyes and look deep into his.

"Hug?"

I nod.

Mike holds me as I close my eyes. I can feel my body settling. He gently plays with the hair resting on my back.

"Just sleep, Tracy. Everything will be better when you wake up."

"Will it?"

"I'm sure it will. Sleep will do you good anyway. Your body's been through a lot, you need to let it heal."

"When's Cam getting here?"

"I'm not sure. Hopefully today, but it won't be until late. She might not be here until tomorrow."

Fresh tears come. I'm so sick and tired of crying at the moment. I just want to curl up into a ball and not have to go through this.

"I know. But I'm here. And I'm not leaving until they kick me out."

I'm so grateful to Mike for staying. I don't even want to think about how hard this would be to go through alone. "Thank you, for being here."

"Of course. I wouldn't not be here, Trace. But come on. Please. Go to sleep."

My body feels exhausted. I look up at Mike.

"Go to sleep. Just close your eyes and go to sleep."

I close my eyes, relaxing into his arms.

"That's it. Good girl." He gives me a kiss, a long kiss full of love.

The noise of the hospital fades away, for the first time since I came here. I'm safe here with Mike. He'll make sure everything is ok.

Finally I manage to fall asleep.

---

When I wake up the sickness is strong again.

Mike gives me a sad smile. "More anti sickness?"

I nod.

He goes and comes back over with a nurse, who checks my chart. "Yes, you're due some more. Would you like it?"

"Yes please."

She goes and comes back with a syringe. "Right, can I have your cannula please?"

I hold out my arm for her, and wince slightly as the medication goes in. It always stings, but thankfully it doesn't last long.

Sadly it doesn't seem to be doing much anymore. The last lot didn't make me feel any less sick, and this probably won't either.

"How long was I asleep?"

"A good three hours. You must have been tired."

"And you're still here?"

"Where else would I be?"

I sigh. Being asleep is so much easier at the moment, means I don't have to deal with the world.

A nurse comes to my bed. "Tracy, we need some more blood."

"More?"

"Your liver levels are going up. We need to keep an eye on them."

I close my eyes for a moment. "Ok."

The nurse goes and comes back with the equipment. I look at Mike, worry on my face.

He gives my hand a squeeze. "It's ok. It'll be ok. I'm here."

I whine as the nurse puts the tourniquet on. I whine as she prods my arm. I whine as she gets the needle out. Letting out noise is the only way I seem able to keep still so she can do her job.

"It's ok," Mike says softly. "You're doing really well."

As the nurse goes to put the needle in I pull away, the fear rising in me.

"Tracy, I need you to hold still," she says sternly, like she's talking to a small child.

"Then you need to tell me when you're putting it in!"

She sighs, tapping my arm a few more times. Then the needle comes for my arm again. "Sharp scratch."

I whimper as I watch it go in. Then I cry out as she pushes it around to find the vein.

"Look, I just need to find this vein. The needle's in, that's the hard bit."

Mike gives my hand a squeeze. I know he's not impressed by the tone of the nurse. I'm just trying to hold it together.

I cry out again as she pushes the needle in further. "Ow!"

She pulls the needle out. "Fine, I'll go and get someone else. It would help if you would cooperate a little bit."

I can feel Mike tense. "She's very ill and has had countless needles stuck in her over the past day. Cut her some slack."

"We've got lots of sick patients we need to be treating."

"And I would hope you'd be treating them with compassion."

The nurse doesn't answer, just tidies away her equipment before she leaves.

I can feel my anxiety rising. She's hurt me and yet hasn't even done anything.

"It's ok. I know you're scared." Mike begins to rub circles on the back of my hand. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

I try and settle, but anxiety is running through me, a restless feeling that makes me want to run as far away from here as possible.

I take a shaky breath as another nurse comes in with a needle.

"Tracy, sweetheart, would I be able to take some blood?"

I can feel Mike relax, and I relax with him, though the fear is very much still there. I nod.

"Ok." The nurse draws the curtains round, then puts a tourniquet on my arm. "I heard you're a bit scared of needles."

"I never used to be. But in here they just don't seem to go in, and I can't deal with it."

"That's ok, don't you worry." She looks to Mike. "And Dad's here to support?"

"Yeah, Dad's here." I look to Mike and he gives my hand a squeeze.

"Right then." I hadn't even noticed the nurse finding a vein. "I've got you a nice small needle. Am I ok to try?"

I nod.

"Sharp scratch."

It takes everything in me not to pull away. I squeeze Mike's hand hard, beginning to whine. He squeezes mine back gently in return.

The nurse pushes the needle around slightly.

I let out a loud cry. "Sorry! I'm trying not to."

"No, you're ok, you do what you need to do." She pushes the needle around more and then pulls it out. "Sorry, it's not gone in. Can I try your other arm?"

I nod, holding it out.

The other arm is a repeat. I'm so glad she's kind, with how awkward my veins are currently being about giving up blood.

She pulls out another empty needle.

"Sorry, I'm being difficult again."

She gives me a smile. "It's not your fault, you're clearly not well." She pauses for a moment. "I'll just go and get the ultrasound machine if that's ok."

"Ok."

I look to Mike as she leaves.

"You're doing really well, Trace. Really well."

"I'm not. I'm crying and pulling away and generally being awkward."

"No you're not," Mike says firmly. "You're doing the best you can."

The nurse is soon back with the ultrasound machine. "Right, I'll give it one more go, ok?"

I nod.

"The gel's going to be a bit cold." She puts some on my arm, then starts finding a vein with the probe. I'm so grateful she's talking me through everything she's doing: it's making the process a lot less scary.

"Right, I've found one. Am I ok to go?"

"Yeah."

"Sharp scratch."

She puts the needle in. I begin to whimper as she pushes it around. Mike squeezes my hand in support.

I watch in relief as blood begins to fill the tube.

"There we go." She lets the tube fill, then puts another one on. The blood stops.

I whimper again.

"Come on." She adjusts the tube slightly, and blood begins filling it. She waits for it to fill, before taking the tube off, then removing the needle.

"There, all done." She puts a piece of cotton wool on my arm, holding it with a piece of tape. "Well done. You were really brave."

"No I wasn't."

"I wouldn't have been as good as that." She gives me a smile. "You did well."

"Thank you." Mike gives her a smile too.

She leaves, drawing the curtains back slightly.

Mike gives my hand a squeeze. "Well done."

I give his hand a small squeeze back.

He gives a small smile. "Am I officially Dad now then?"

I don't know how to answer. At the moment thinking about any of my relationships is hard. Mike is so clearly Dad, but with this attempt my head is so confused, still filled with thoughts that Mike doesn't want me at all.

"Would you even want to be?"

Mike sighs. Then he lets go of my hand. "Are you well enough to sit up?"

"I don't think so."

"Can you roll over?"

I turn away from Mike. He doesn't even want to see my face anymore. He must not want me at all. He must not...

I finally realise what he wanted when he slides his arm under me. He wraps the other over me, holding me tight. I settle, taking his hand and holding it almost like a child would hold a comfort blanket.

"I would want to be your dad more than anything, Tracy. It makes me so proud when you refer to me like that."

"Proud?"

"Proud. I'm proud to call you my daughter."

I push Mike away for a moment. Mike being dad is one thing. Me being daughter is another entirely.

And I can feel I'm about to be sick.

I push myself up. I can't find the bowl.

I hold my hands in front of my mouth as a last resort.

"Oh Tracy." Mike is up immediately, grabbing the bowl for me and holding in front of me to catch what it can. "You should have said." He passes me some tissue to wipe my hands.

"I didn't have time."

"Oh Tracy."

Tears come to my eyes. I go to lie back down.

"No, not on that." Mike holds me up.

"I don't care, I don't feel well, I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to do this anymore!"

"I know. Just wait a minute."

"No, I don't want to do it anymore, Mike! I'm not doing it! I'm not doing it!"

As I begin to sob Mike takes matters into his own hands. He lifts me up and takes me over to the chair, holding me on his knee. He gently rocks me.

"I know. I know. I'm here. I'm sorry there's not more I can do, Trace, but I'm here."

I lean on him, allowing him to take my weight. I feel heavy, exhausted, in pain. We stay in silence for a while. The world is a bit of a blur for that time. I can hear voices, people moving about, but they seem far away. Even Mike seems far away.

"Mike?" My voice is weak, almost strangled.

"Shh, it's ok."

"It's not ok."

He sighs. "You're right. It's not ok. You're ill and you're suffering and I'm really sorry you're having to go through this, Tracy. I know it's awful at the moment. We just need to try and get through these worst few days and then you'll feel a bit better."

"We?"

"Me and you and Cam."

"You really want to stay?"

"We love you, Tracy. We love you so much." I can hear tears creeping into his voice. "Please stop pushing us away."

My tears increase at hearing Mike cry.

"Shh, you're ok, you're ok." Mike's voice is back to normal. "Just please let us in."

"I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

I look over to the bed for a moment. Clean sheets have been put on, the blanket straightened.

"Can I lie down? I don't feel well. I think I might be sick again."

"Are you going to be sick if I move you?"

"I should be ok to stand."

Mike gives me a kiss, then lifts me up. He places me on the bed, makes sure my legs are on, and wraps me back in a hug all in one movement.

"Hang on, Mike, off."

He retreats.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you said you felt sick. That's perfectly ok."

I close my eyes. I'm in pain from having to sit, and the sickness is rolling in waves.

"Where's the bowl?"

"On your table."

"Ok."

As another wave rolls I sit up. I just want this feeling to be over. I take the bowl.

"You ok?"

I nod.

Mike is quiet, which I'm grateful for. As the sickness rises again I heave.

Mike puts his hand out to touch me. I hit it away, then close my eyes briefly. I heave again.

Thankfully Mike is understanding. He stays silent, still. I don't have to worry about him doing something unpredictable, and can focus on myself. I heave again.

I put a hand on the table in front of me to steady myself. I close my eyes for a moment.

Finally I am sick.

Mike waits for me to finish. I put the bowl on my table, and use a tissue to wipe my mouth. Then I lie down.

"Can I do anything?"

"Stay, please."

"I wasn't planning on leaving, Tracy. Though I did need to use the bathroom at some point."

"Go now if you want. I'd rather not wake up to you gone."

Mike heads out of the ward.

I take a moment just to calm. My body still hurts, every part of me full of dull pain that just won't go. I don't feel sick, but I feel weak.

I curl into a ball and pull the blanket up over me. I close my eyes: having them open for too long is beginning to hurt as well.

I want to wait for Mike. I don't want to go to sleep without him.

But it's just so inviting.

I can feel myself drifting off. Part of my dream from earlier comes back.

"You're proud of me?" I mumble.

"So proud, Tracy." There's a hug around me. "So proud."

"And you love me?"

"I love you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I settle into his arms. I take his hand and hug it tight to me. I feel a kiss on the back of my head.

"Love you."

Mike answers me with a squeeze.

I allow sleep to take me away, to have a break without pain or sickness or sadness. Mike has me. He'll keep me safe.

And, despite the fact I didn't manage to call him, he's still proud of me.