She's someone else's special someone (on hold)

She's someone else's special someone *3*

Chapter 3

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(Katie's P.O.V)

*Back to the beginning scene*

I felt my knees burn from the force of contact. The sandy ground beneath my bare legs was an uncomfortable feeling, but nothing compared to the burning within my chest.

My heart continued to ache from the words that Brandon had just spoken out loud.

I could hear Michael's anxiety attack taking effect behind me; his short gasps brought me back to reality. Stumbling, I shoved myself up and turned to face his crumpled figure. I was still trembling, but Michael's trembling mattered more at the moment. He needed my help, and my humanity urged me forward.

I pressed a gentle hand to his forehead and murmured to him in a soothing voice, lightly massaging his sweaty face.

"What is wrong with you!? I just told you he was doing it all again, and yet you still feel for him!?" Brandon yelled from behind.

I flinched at the hidden accusation in his voice, knowing all too well what this was really about. But that could be dealt with later, Michael didn't have much time.

The last thing I wanted was him passing out when the only other person around to help was Brandon.

Ignoring Brandon's angry movements around me, I focused solely on Michael's clenched face. The pain was there, and this time it had nothing to do with Brandon's earlier blows. It was an emotional attack, mental, not physical. Yet he felt the pain physically just as much as he did emotionally.

My heart went out to him, and I felt the love bursting inside. Michael meant the world to me now; I was going to focus on him, only him.

So what if he chose to hide it from me? Maybe trust isn't an easy option after all. Someone like Michael needed time to heal; perhaps we hadn't given him enough time.

Michael had promised me he would never go back to his old life, and he'd sworn on our love. Perhaps that's what had hurt most when Brandon had come storming to beach and told me, the fact that he'd known before me was an added extra. Combined, it had been enough to strike me hard.

At the moment, I hadn't been able to stand Michael. But now, I remembered that something this small would never tear us apart. Not if I could help it.

I ran towards the purse which I'd dropped near the picnic blanket earlier, plunging inside for what I needed most. All my things scattered on the ground, and my trembling fingers didn't help much. I desperately went through all the stuff, while my ears zoned in on the gasps getting louder behind me.

Tears were flowing freely down my face now, and I did nothing to stop them. I didn't have time.

15 minutes. That was usually all it took. And then the chance of coma, or even worse... death.

"I'm coming, Michael! You hold on, alright! I'll be right there!" I yelled with as much strength as I could muster.

I finally found the bottle of pills and rushed back, but stopped short at the sight. Michael was in a half seated position, balanced by Brandon's arm around him. I swallowed hard and slowly went closer.

Michael's gasping had stopped, and instead he took long, slow breaths, just as he'd been advised to. Brandon held a glass of water in one hand, and I noticed the bottle of pills clutched in Michael's hand.

"Relax, just take deep breaths." Brandon whispered, looking directly into Michael's eyes. This was another technique the doctor's had told us about, keeping good eye contact to offer the person suffering the attack some comfort.