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chapter twenty / season three episode fourteen.
IT FELT LIKE THE WORLD WAS AGAINST AMELIA LEVINE, CONSTANTLY. It was a pretty dramatic thought to have, but we've all had it once or twice in our lives. Amelia felt like she woke up with the thought at the back of her mind everyday.
Because, everyday felt like it was getting worse for her. Especially in this past week. It had started off well, with her and Aaron Hotchner staying late nights to do paperwork together and feeling better than she ever had before: with the work she was doing, and truly feeling like she belonged at the BAU. Which had then digressed into her being late for the first time, Aaron Hotchner now hating her guts, Charlie Beaumont deciding to air her dirty laundry and her Mom's cancer returning. (Which by default included a trip back to DC, which then resulted in many comments whispered by her Dad and many tears shed)
Everything felt wrong. Everything had gone wrong for her. And now she couldn't sleep, she could barely stomach a full meal, and she could barely go one whole hour without her Dad calling her to update her on Martha's condition.
Amelia kept her mouth shut when speaking to Thomas, only settling for simple answers like 'Yes', 'No', or 'Okay'. She had to bite her tongue, (a woman was good at that) because an upset would only harm her Mom. And Amelia knew to be kind to her Mom. It was just harder being kind to Thomas after all he'd done, after all he'd said.
Good-for-nothing-
It hadn't mattered that Martha had cut him off. Amelia knew what he wanted to say, how he wanted to curse her. Good-for-nothing...
What was Amelia Levine good for? Be honest, because it hadn't felt like she was good for a lot of things anymore. Her own Unit Chief didn't like her, it was only a matter of time before he managed to get her fired, it was only a matter of time before he listened to Charlie and Amelia could barely even take care of herself.
So, truly, she was good for nothing.
She couldn't work, couldn't live... She could never do anything right. Which was just reinforced by her eyebrows furrowing when Spencer Reid walked into the office at this hour. It was usual for Spencer to be early, but it was unlike Spencer to be here at this time.
(Which was ironic considering Spencer hadn't expected to find Amelia here at this hour, either. And the bags under her eyes, the multiple cups of coffee, and the dim light in her eyes told him all that he needed to know.)
"Good morning." He greeted nonetheless, with confusion laced in his tone. Or, that's what Amelia thought it was. It was more his concern than anything else. "What are you doing here?"
