chapter eleven / season three episode six.

TW: description of a panic attack. if you feel uncomfortable by the description of a panic attack, please skip to the end of the chapter, prioritize yourself not a book.

AMELIA FELT WEIRD.

Not in her usual sense of the anxious pit in her stomach that she'd learned to live with over the last few years.

But just weird.

She didn't even know how to describe it.

She felt sick but knew she wouldn't be sick.

Her fingers kept tingling, as if they'd gone numb, and she'd have to squeeze them - hard - to restore some feeling in them.

The whole flight to Texas she'd felt hot and then cold. She'd constantly have to wrap her jacket around her tighter and then take it off.

That had earned her some odd looks. Well, what she'd perceived as odd, the team were actually just concerned.

When they'd touched down and made it into the station Amelia heard a ringing in her ears, not a quiet one by any means, one that had her tilting her head to the side as if the ringing was water and it would drip it if she did so.

It did not.

And to make matters worse someone else had gone missing: Enid White.

Amelia pulled her jacket back on as she felt some shivers begin to take over. Detective Yarborough looked at her like she was crazy, and she thought he was right to do so because in this Texan heat she did feel crazy for putting a jacket on.

Agent Hotchner gave out the group tasks and thankfully, Amelia had not been grouped with David Rossi and Spencer. That was good for two reasons: 1) she didn't have to have any more awkward interactions with Rossi while she tried to figure herself out and 2) she didn't have to listen to Spencer ask him twenty questions a minute while she tried to combat a headache.

It would've been a victory if she hadn't of been assigned to Agent Hotchner and JJ.

Another day, another case, and another load of Hotch watch.

Amelia would like to believe she hadn't even done anything suspicious this time, or something that could make them worry about her but she'd done a lot of things.

She was wearing a jacket in Texas heat and not sweating being the main one.

The second being Agent Hotchner was far too concerned about her to even let her near any other agent and had decided she was better off at his side.

(Amelia was sure he still hated her guts even after the Katie Jenkins case and just wanted to keep her away from the rest of the agents after acting weirdly)

(Amelia was an idiot sometimes)

"Miss White's roommate says that Enid walks her dog every night at the same time, takes the same route, right down the street."

"Nothing a stalker likes better then routine." Agent Hotchner commented.

Amelia nodded in agreement as they slowly made their way up the street.

At least Amelia had this case to distract her from her chills.

Oh, never-mind. The chills have turned into sweats and Amelia had to pull her jacket off her body.

"Thank God, you were making me sweat with that jacket on." JJ whispered as they fell into step with one another. "She definitely would have seen this if this was here before she went missing."

Amelia felt her stomach twist at the 'Have you seen me?' flyers stuck to the fence paneling.

"A couple of neighbors said they may have seen a guy putting up a flyer during the day, but they couldn't remember anything about him." The officer with them informed them.

"We're going to have to know everything we can about the victim. I know you sent some stuff over to Quantico, but it would help us if we could interview the roommate ourselves."

Amelia and Agent Hotchner stood side by side, as if they were both checking the area for something.

"Where's her dog?" The Unit Chief asked looking off into the distance.

"Excuse me?"

"She was walking her dog before she was abducted, so where is her dog?"

Not there.

✺

Amelia felt weird, and David Rossi was weird.

Now, Amelia is only allowed to make that assumption because she feels weird. In normal circumstances she'd just say the new guy (who wasn't really new but was new?) was just adapting to the team.

He kept to himself and this little notepad he had, she had caught him scribbling into it enough times on the plane.

Amelia had never done that when she joined, she just kept all her thoughts inside her head and thought the team never wanted her to speak.

Maybe Amelia was allowed to call Rossi weird because she had acted weird ever since she'd joined the team.

Had she been herself with them? Yes. She smiled and she made comments at Derek, bought them coffee as a kind gesture, wrapped her duck pen up for Penelope as a gift, left a fashion magazine on JJ's desk every Monday, did the crossword with Spencer at lunchtimes and had left an expensive bottle of vodka in Emily's desk two Fridays ago.

Amelia did things for the people she loved. That was her being herself, and with a smile all these actions went a long way.

But she felt like there was so much more to her. And she never let anyone see it, because she's so scared. She's too scared, she's too frightened of what people will say if she starts taking charge and doing things to please her Unit Chief. She's too fearful of making friends in the unit in case one of them gets blown up.

She's so scared.

The realization sent a pain to her chest. Her hand formed a fist as she rubbed at the pain, hoping the action would make it go away.

It did not.

She's so scared that, someday, the people in this unit that she gets close to, are just going to leave her with one phone call and leave.

This fear... was all she'd ever known. Amelia had always feared something from the day she started going to school.

She feared the other students wouldn't like her (they did, they just never knew how to approach the anxious girl on the front row), she feared that she'd never be good enough academically (she'd been the best in her class by some miles) and as she got older she feared that her Mom would never get to see her get the job of her dreams, or married or even see her have children.

Amelia got the dream job.

And no-one was ever going to love her now were they?

Those were just three things she'd feared in her life, we frankly don't have enough time to tell you them all because Amelia is just too fearful and she doesn't know how to break that, she doesn't know how to feel safe enough to do that.

Amelia thought she could be safe here, she tried so hard to be safe here in her first two weeks. And then Gideon left. The one person she had really known in the unit had left.

And she felt out of place with these people that knew nothing about her and she knew nothing about them.

But, Amelia fails to realize they know everything about her. And that's not just because they read her records it's because they love her, she was a little duckling they took under their wing and couldn't help but love.

She hadn't been there long, but the team couldn't imagine the office without her.

They knew everything about her. And Amelia was far from realizing it as another sharp pain shot through her chest.

Spencer spotted a concerned look as he spoke, "Agent Rossi pointed out that since the victims are weighed down, it suggests that the unsub didn't want them to be found, which suggests some sort of connection between them."

"Detective, how long was Michelle missing?" Agent Hotchner looked behind him as he asked the question, a frown deepened on his face as he watched Amelia rub at her chest.

"She was found on the fourth day."

"So, she wasn't in the water long, then he held her for three." He answered his ringing phone and offered Amelia a bottle of water.

She shook her hand and tried to tell her it was fine.

The Unit Chief fought to roll his eyes and pushed the bottle into her hands.

"Garcia?" He asked, turning his body back to the phone and trying to focus on the case.

"I've been running all of Enid White's credit cards. And she made a purchase at 9am this morning, at a sporting goods store in Dallas."

Amelia continued rubbing at the painful spot in her chest, "If I'd been kidnapped I don't think a sporting goods store is where I'd go. What did she buy?"

"A shotgun."

Reid's eyebrows raised.

"Okay, maybe it is the place I'd go if I'm running from the unsub."

✺

After some gun law bashing and a distress call from a woman that had been Enid, the police department and the FBI were on their way to the motel, specifically room six where Enid should be.

Amelia had gotten into the front seat of Hotchner's SUV before Derek could even think about, and that felt amazing.

It didn't help the pain in her chest go away though.

But, being in the front seat actually just felt like being in the hot seat. Agent Hotchner watched her every-time she rubbed her fist at her chest and asked if she was okay.

Every-time she replied with; "Yeah. I think it's just heartburn."

Amelia had not consumed a solid meal in about twelve hours.

It didn't matter because they'd soon arrived at the motel and Amelia was free from the shackles of questioning looks from Derek and Agent Hotchner. Freedom!

They wasted no time in getting out of their vehicles and kicking down the door to the motel room with their guns raised.

It didn't matter how fast they'd got there either.

The room was covered in posters, with some scattered on the bed and a mask front and centre with 'two' written on it in blood.

"She's gone."

They'd gotten there in twenty minutes and lost her.

They'd found the dog, but no Enid.

✺

White man, mature and patient. He was nothing remarkable, average height, average weight.

He didn't stand out. And he's tired of that, he's pissed off, clearly.

It was during the profile the Rossi strolled out of his hiding place and the mask had been leaked on the news, "I called them."

Amelia thought he was weird. Now he was weird and crazy.

"What?" Was echoed throughout different members of the team.

"I said the FBI thinks the masks mean he's impotent."

Emily's mouth was left agape.

"Close that mouth of yours before flies start coming in." Amelia warned her with a phrase that had been used so much during her childhood that it was like secondhand nature to use when she saw someone with their mouth open in shock.

Derek came up from behind them, "Do not make me laugh during a serious moment, sunshine."

"Can I speak to you for a second?" Agent Hotchner asked as he led Rossi away to a secluded area, even if Aaron knew his agents would try anything to listen in.

They were nosy, after all. And terrible at covering it up.

"Oh, to be a fly on the wall." Amelia mused as she sat down at one of the desks around her once she felt a round of lightheadedness.

That was new. She hadn't felt that today.

"JJ, can you go get Hotch? Penelope's calling." Derek asked politely as he put his arms on the back of Amelia's chair.

She didn't know how long passed with her eyes shut trying to rid the feeling that circled in her head, but it couldn't have been long because Agent Hotchner soon came storming in with David Rossi following in his wake.

"What you got, baby girl?" Derek unintentionally rocked Amelia's chair back and forth.

In a bid to not draw more attention to herself than necessary she let him continue, even if it made her head feel more dizzy.

"Michelle Colucci recently drew up plans for a remodel of three floors of a company called Techco Communications. It's a hi-tech communications company in downtown Dallas." Penelope informed them of her new information.

"And Enid White?"

"Worked there until two months ago."

Amelia hummed and placed her hands flat on the table as if that would stop the dizziness, "So, these women pass him and he interprets it as some oversight and he just has to kill them?"

Her question could not be answered as Detective Yarborough came in, "He's on two."

"The unsub?"

"Demanding to speak to the FBI." He nodded.

Rossi accepted the call, "This is FBI Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi."

"You called me impotent."

"Did I?" There was a falseness in his tone, Amelia would've laughed if she wasn't an agent.

The unsub whispered, "I am not impotent."

"Why are you whispering?"

"You lied. You lied."

"Is someone around you? Are you at work?" David asked.

"You have to tell the news the truth." The unsub demanded.

"I'll get you on the news and you can correct me yourself."

"No," The unsub started in a whisper and got louder, "You, you, you correct it."

"By the way, I was looking at the security tapes," Were you? Emily and Amelia shared a look, "for the day Michelle Colucci went missing."

"What?"

"You watched her long enough to know she didn't have visitors. She was a loner. Yet, you knew that Detective Yarborough was coming over. You must have been right here in this station when he told her. Now your face is going to be on one of those tapes and when I find it I'm going to paper this city with it, just like you did with those women. Everyone will see it."

Amelia had to admit that even if he had kept that information to himself and his little notepad, he was kinda cool as he talked to the unsub over the phone.

"They won't be able to ignore you now." David said. "But you won't inspire fear. You'll inspire hatred and ridicule, because the only power someone like you has is a mask, and once that mask is removed," Agent Hotchner held his hand out as if that was to stop the new agent, "you'll be as insignificant as you've always been."

"A loser."

The unsub didn't speak for a moment, until he did, "You just signed Enid White's death warrant." There were various things thrown around before the dial tone sounded.

And Agent Hotchner began his glaring.

✺

Amelia had been kicked to the backseat. Which would've been much more enjoyable if David Rossi hadn't stolen her preferred side of the car, which was behind Derek's seat so that she could pester him.

Instead, Amelia had to settle behind Agent Hotchner and the intense atmosphere surrounding him and Rossi. It wasn't fun, and there was certainly no pestering.

It was even less fun when Amelia noticed a tremble in her hands. Oh, no. No, no, no. She couldn't have a tremble in her hands when they were about to storm into a work building with their guns blazing and hunting the unsub out of a crowd.

She'd clenched her trembling hands into fists, hoping that would stop it.

It didn't.

The building was sealed, so the unsub wouldn't be able to get out. That still did not fill Amelia with hope.

"Top to bottom." Someone had responded to the Unit Chief's question.

The lobby was filled with employees as they found out Michelle Colucci remodeled floors seven, eight and nine.

"Morgan, take seven." Agent Hotchner ordered, "We're looking for a rank-and-file employee who made a scene in the last twenty minutes, or was here and gone. Prentiss, eight. Reid, nine."

Oh, was Amelia glad she didn't have hunt him down.

Imagine if she'd caught the unsub and she couldn't hold her own gun. That would be embarrassing, would possibly cost her her badge for a little while as well.

"Don't approach him. Just try to get a name, maybe a picture."

The three agents ran off to try and get to their destined floors.

"He's somewhere in this lobby." Rossi randomly declared.

Amelia suddenly didn't like her chances anymore.

(She was a liability, again)

"What?" Agent Hotchner asked.

"Can't you feel it?" Amelia would have to admit that she hadn't quite reached an expertise where she could feel an unsub in a lobby.

She better get to working harder.

"Display your credentials. FBI." Hotchner told them as Amelia happily slipped it onto her pocket, displaying her smiling face on the credentials.

"He thinks we know what he looks like."

Agent Hotchner pulled out the missing flyers that had been put in victims' houses and pretended as if they were looking out into the sea of employees.

Amelia hummed looking at the image of the first victim on the paper, "I'm not seeing him."

Hotchner shot her a glance.

"I am." Rossi whispered, he subtly led the two agents to a position where they could see the man cowered in a corner trying to play it cool and nonchalant as he made his way towards the elevators.

They parted in the crowd but were all following him from a different angle.

Amelia's eyes widened when Rossi called out to him. Rossi reached for his gun.

Amelia's hand trembled over hers in its holster.

The presumed unsub continued walking as Amelia stood behind Rossi as his backup, without her gun in hand.

Rossi thought she was crazy, but his eyes soon fell on the trembling hand at her side and he understood.

He didn't say anything or do anything to give himself away.

But he understood.

He directly put himself in-front of Amelia and approached the presumed unsub.

Amelia felt a hand on her elbow, it was Agent Hotchner. He had his gun drawn and his eyes lingering on her trembling hand, he led her away from being Rossi's backup, but still close enough to keep her safe, and took her spot as the backup.

"Max Pool." Hotchner said, causing him to stop in his steps. "We have your address, Max. There's no place to go."

"This is Agent Rossi, Max." David said, hoping to will a reaction out of the unsub. "If you do what you're thinking, you won't get to tell them I lied."

"Come on, Max. Slowly put your hands on top of your head."

"Listen to him, Max." Agent Hotchner demanded.

"I know what you're thinking and you don't have to do it!" Rossi said, "It's doesn't have to end here, Max. Please."

He reached down for his gun.

And the elevator doors dinged open.

Derek stepped out, just as Max raised his gun.

"Derek!" Amelia shouted as her chest tightened.

There was something about her shout that told Rossi it was not her first time shouting a colleague's name in such a painful way.

"Down!" Agent Hotchner shouted after Amelia.

Derek crouched down in perfect time as the situation played out in a painful slow motion. Max reached for his gun and spun around, Rossi had taken the shot first.

And it had been Max who had fallen to the floor with a gunshot wound.

It had not been Derek.

Derek was fine.

Derek was not Clara.

Derek was unharmed.

Agent Hotchner checked Max's pulse.

Amelia stared at Derek's live body on the floor.

He was not Clara. They hadn't even been in the same situation, Clara had been in a hostage negotiation and Derek had walked out of an elevator with an unsub pointing a gun at him, unknowingly.

Why did she react like that?

Derek got up off the floor after answering the question of if he was alright and Amelia stared at him.

He got up, see? He's fine!

He approached her, apprehensively. "Amelia?"

Amelia hummed.

"Amelia." He said again, forcing her to look up at him, "I'm okay. Not a single cut or bruise, I promise I'm okay."

"You're okay." Amelia whispered as if trying to make herself believe it. "You're okay."

Derek nodded, "I'm okay."

"You're okay." She squeezed her eyes shut as the pain struck her in the chest for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

Her hands shook as she wrapped them around his waist and brought him into a hug. "You're okay." Her affirmation was muffled as she spoke into his chest.

His hands rested, flat, on her back. "I'm okay."

I'm not Clara.

"You're not Clara." She hadn't meant to say it out loud. But she had.

And he'd heard it.

He didn't ask her any questions when they pulled apart, he made sure she sat in the right seat when they drove over to the unsub's house to get Enid White alive.

Derek made sure that when they got to giving sweets out to the kids in the neighborhood that Amelia was at his side the whole time, his hand placed on her elbow to make sure she didn't get lost.

Amelia hadn't spoken a word throughout that whole saga.

She just kept repeating the same mantra; you're not Clara.

✺

She hadn't stopped saying it (in her head), not until the seatbelt unbuckle light flashed on the plane and she excused herself to the secluded area of the toilets.

Derek watched her go from the seat opposite him.

The second she shut the bathroom door she rested her head against it and exhaled deeply.

Ever since Derek had rolled on the floor after his near miss, her hands had not stopped in their trembling and she had not stopped shivering even in Texas, in October.

She'd been this way the whole day, as if her body had been building up to something.

The day had started with numb fingers and a sick feeling, it then progressed into her fingers trembling and then the game of hot and cold. Her body couldn't settle on whether it wouldn't to be too cold, and wrapped up in her jacket, or too hot and sweaty.

The chest pains had been the worst, Amelia could ignore a headache but she could not ignore an ache that felt so much like a heart attack that she could've called a doctor.

Oh.

Her stomach sank with dread as she lifted her head off the door and looked at herself in the mirror.

It wasn't a heart attack.

And they hadn't just been weird feelings all day.

Oh.

The ache in her chest returned and her hands gripped the small counter in the jet's bathroom.

Oh. No.

She could not have a panic attack in this minuscule bathroom. No, no, no.

Just the thought of it made her breathing increase to a rapid pace that she could not keep up with. Somehow, her breathing made the small room she was in feel smaller, it made it feel suffocating.

Her chest tightened as she tried to think of why this was happening. Why had she been building up to this all day?

Because she knew she had to go home and confront conflicting feelings about Jason Gideon?

Her fingers tingled.

Because Derek nearly got shot and all she could think about was how he was Clara? Even if they'd been in completely different situations.

Amelia looked up at herself in the mirror, and her vision became blurred. She didn't know if that was from tears that clouded her eyes or this panic attack she was having.

She let herself sink to the ground, she found herself a small, safe, space between the sink and the toilet.

Not the cleanest of places but it would do.

Amelia placed her head between her legs and clawed at her ears as they began to ring for the second time again.

No. No. No.

Breathe, Amelia, breathe.

Why did it feel like she was choking?

Before she could even realize what was happening, she had her head in the bowl of the toilet and she was throwing up. She held her own hair back and felt the tears stream down her cheeks as her stomach emptied its contents into the bowl.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Why did that feel like it made it worse?

Amelia rested her head against the cabinet of the sink with her hand muzzling her sobs.

She hoped no-one had heard her throwing up.

They didn't need to see her like this.

Amelia didn't even want this to happen, why was this happening?

Is this what happens when you ignore everything and it eventually comes back to you? When your fears decide it's time for you to grow up and get over them?

Is that it?

Is that why Amelia muffled her own sobs and sweat mixed in with her tears?

Is that why?

It didn't matter how many breaths she counted or how many sheep she tried to count, it didn't matter how many ins and outs she did.

Nothing was working.

Nothing was fixing her.

Why couldn't she just fix herself?

Why did Clara have to go into that building? Why did James try to take down her career when all she'd tried to do was learn from him and try to make it to the BAU? Why did Gideon have to lose the closest thing he could call a lover in years?

Why did all these bad things happen and Amelia could do nothing about them?

Why did Gideon leave?

She squeezed her eyes shut as she dug her nails into the skin of her palm to try and stop the numb feeling that tried to overtake her body.

No. No. No.

Amelia inhaled.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Amelia exhaled.

It didn't do anything.

What was she going to do?

How did she get herself out of this?

Why can't she fix this?

She can't fix anything.

She ruins everything.

The thought that crossed her mind caused her to hold back her hair again.

What fixes this?

Amelia placed her hands firmly onto the ground and keep her body still against the cabinet behind her.

What were five things she can see?

The toilet (which she desperately needed to flush), the toilet roll holder, the fresh white towels, Derek's stupid spray which he left in the bathroom and a picture of Emily's cat above the toilet.

What four things can she feel?

The cotton material of her shirt, the elastic band around her wrist (which she really should've used to tie up her hair), the wooden cabinet behind her and the cold floor beneath her hot body.

What were three things she could hear?

The jet. It was loud.

The vent in the bathroom that turned on automatically when you entered the room.

And talking.

Right outside the bathroom door.

No. No. No.

She was doing better! She was calming down! Her hands didn't feel the need to be on the ground, she didn't feel so numb and her vision wasn't so blurry.

No. No. No.

The voice walked past the bathroom and instead went to the luggage rack which was only a few paces away.

Okay.

They weren't looking for me.

Okay.

Two things she could smell.

Her sick.

Her sweat.

She was glad that was over with quickly.

And one thing she could taste.

The bile in her throat.

Her cheeks were still wet and there was still a tremor in her hands, and her breathing would hiccup every so often but she wasn't choking anymore.

She wasn't hot or cold.

Amelia was just tired.

She was so tired.

Even if it wasn't completely over, it wasn't so bad.

She could wash her face, brush her teeth, spray Derek's stupid spray and tie her hair up.

And no-one would know any different.

She tried to smile at herself in the mirror.

She'd fixed it.

(She hadn't.)

Before leaving the small space she gripped onto the sink for good measure, to make sure she was actually stood up, she was on her feet and her breathing was at a mildly normal pace.

Okay.

Deep breath.

She took a deep breath and exhaled deeply before unlocking the bathroom door.

Derek and Hotchner were the only ones left awake.

Hotchner sat with Rossi and was able to see her clear as day.

She realized she'd forgot to wipe away any excess tears after leaving the bathroom.

She did so before he could point it out in-front of Derek.

Amelia barely looked at the Unit Chief as she sat back down beside Derek, who had resorted to looking out the window in her fifteen minute absence.

"You alright, sunshine?" He asked.

She was sure he knew she wasn't.

But who was he to force her to open up?

She'd probably only get frustrated and distant.

Derek didn't know how to crack her yet.

He was working on it.

Amelia nodded, gripping onto her armrest and his.

He eyed her, wearily, "Are you sure?"

Amelia looked up at him timidly.

She didn't know much about panic attacks. She'd only ever had one before the one she'd just had (shocker, I know!) and that one she had navigated herself through too, before the school nurse had caught her and settled her down.

She'd been ten years old.

Amelia had since forgotten how to settle herself down.

Her father had ways to do so, but they weren't the most nurturing, as you can expect.

The nurse had held her hand the whole time.

Amelia had realized at ten years old that she lacked holding someone's hand.

A lot.

Amelia shook her head and looked down at her lap. "It's..." hiccup, "stupid."

"Sunshine, nothing is stupid when it comes to you. What do you need?"

A therapist.

A new brain.

She shuddered before speaking, "Will you hold my hand?"

Derek wasn't sure if she'd even spoke. He furrowed a brow.

Amelia took that the wrong way.

"It doesn't," hiccup, "matter."

Every word she spoke was quiet and followed by a tremble. She was so unsure of herself, she was so scared.

Amelia didn't want another panic attack.

"I didn't hear you, sunshine." Derek said, softly, "Say it again for me."

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut as she felt tears cloud her vision.

She opened up her palm to him.

Derek guessed what she was trying to tell him.

"You want me to hold your hand?"

She nodded.

"I can do that, sunshine." He whispered and interlocked his fingers with hers.

He squeezed them together tightly.

Amelia sighed and wiped the stray tear that rolled down her cheek with her free hand.

She didn't want to admit how safe she felt with her hand interlocked with another.

✺

Derek hadn't let go of her hand. Not off the jet, in the SUV or even as they made their way through the building.

When Amelia wasn't looking he'd told Emily he'd explain later.

He wasn't sure what he was explaining, but he'd explain.

Derek hadn't slept a wink on the plane ride home and he was sure Amelia had only slept for about five minutes on the long journey.

She was afraid to sleep incase she woke up in sweats and started another panic attack.

And she was afraid to have her eyes open and be awake incase something spawned another panic attack.

She was afraid to speak incase her voice cracked.

She kept her jacket wrapped tightly around her with her free hand so that Spencer couldn't see the way it was viciously trembling.

Agent Hotchner and Rossi had been watching them since they stepped off the jet.

Rossi had thought they might've been a thing. Aaron had laughed at the thought of it and claimed they were nothing but 'siblings'.

'The annoying ones at that.'

Derek had heard that.

He'd be sure to bring that up tomorrow.

Everyone else was talking as they made their way into the bullpen.

Neither Derek or Amelia minded. If anything it took away Amelia's fear of having to speak or be heard in that moment.

For Derek it meant he could worry about Amelia in silence.

He was getting good at that.

"Hey, sunshine," he whispered and led her towards her desk when everyone began packing up, "Let's get your stuff, okay?"

Amelia nodded her head.

"I'm going to stay with you tonight, okay? I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone tonight."

Amelia shook her head, her voice cracked when she spoke, "No, Derek—"

"Amelia. Don't make me go down there and get Penelope to go all mother on your ass, okay?"

Amelia didn't have the energy to fight him.

She didn't have the energy to explain that her house was empty.

And she didn't have the energy to explain that she had a whiteboard in her dining room which followed any leads on a kidnapping case which went cold about twenty-nine years ago.

Amelia didn't have the energy to fight.

Amelia didn't know what she had, to be honest.

She just knew it wasn't a lot, not any more.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
well it gets no easier from here on out