chapter eighteen / season three episode eleven.

AARON HOTCHNER WAS, UNDOUBTEDLY, HAVING A BAD DAY.

He'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed, in the literal sense that somehow in the night he'd ended up on his wife's side of the bed: even if she didn't live with him anymore it still didn't feel great to roll over onto her side. Secondly, he'd woken up early and had time for breakfast.

That was great. That was the only good thing about his day so far.

What had made the good thing bad was that he'd burnt the slice of toast in his toaster. Someone had turned the dial up to the highest setting. (That someone had to be him because he was the only person who lived in the house)

So, Aaron had to eat his slice of toast in the silence of his house. It didn't matter how long ago Haley had left the house they once shared, the silence felt eerie. There was usually all sorts of clanging and laughter in the Hotchner house. The clanging and laughter all came from his wife and son, while he just preferred to listen in.

He'd learnt the sound off by heart. It was his favorite sound in the whole world.

And he doubted he'd ever hear it again.

But, who was he to feel sorry for himself when he had done this? He'd drove Haley away, he'd pushed her too far. And in doing so, he'd lost everything he'd known for the past sixteen years.

Hence the burnt toast.

He was still learning how to get that right.

Maybe tomorrow.

(Probably not.)

The roads, that he drove every single day, that were usually empty at the time he sets off to work, had traffic like he'd never seen before. Aaron had resisted the urge to slam his head against the wheel and press his horn hundreds of times, as if that would make anyone move any quicker.

In the end, Aaron had arrived at a similar time to Derek. Which by Aaron's standards was terrible, that meant he'd be the last one in the building out of the group and he would never be able to live it down.

When he'd gotten into the elevator, Derek had looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow, the man's tie was askew and the collars of his shirt weren't completely flat and don't even get Derek started on Aaron's hair that looked like it had had someone's hands run through it a hundred times over.

(Get your heads out of the gutters! Aaron had a stressful drive over and had resorted to running his hands through his hair, a hundred times over)

A quiet laugh fell from Derek's lips as he turned to face the metal doors of the elevator, "Busy morning, Hotch?"

Aaron didn't need a second to realize what Derek was insinuating.

"Traffic."

Derek's lips curved into a smirk, "Like actual traffic—"

"Yes." Aaron cut him off, "Real traffic, Morgan."

Derek held his hands up, "Okay. Okay. You can't blame a man for—"

Aaron didn't listen to what Morgan had to say and stepped out of the elevator the second the doors opened, he didn't even have to look behind him to know Derek was smiling and laughing to himself.

When he reached the bullpen, all his agent's eyes seemed to be on the Unit Chief who was the last of them in the office. Well, who he thought was the last one in the office.

Emily had never seen him be one of the last ones in during her time at the BAU and did a double take. She instantly spun her chair in Reid's direction when the Unit Chief was out of earshot, "Has he ever been this late?"

When these agents say late they mean to the standard Hotch upholds, the Unit Chief was always the first or second in the building, so to see him be the second to last was quite bizarre.

"Not that I know of." Reid responded, watching as Hotch rubbed at his eyes (tiredly) and began unpacking his briefcase. "Should we ask—"

"Have you seen Hotch this morning?" Derek's booming voice interrupted, and his voice was clearly full of glee, "My man must've been getting it—!"

Emily cut him off with a groan, "You're disgusting."

Derek held his hands up in innocence, "I'm not the one getting it and blaming it on traffic."

Reid's eyebrows furrowed, "Actually," Derek groaned at his voice, "There was a collision this morning on one of the motorways, that would mean Hotch's route to work would've been impacted because the junctions would've been connected—"

Spencer cut himself off when he saw Derek's glare.

Emily laughed quietly, "So, he was not 'getting it.'"

Derek rolled his eyes, "Okay, there is no need to be putting my words in quotation marks."

"Oh, there is every need." Emily responded.

"I just walked in and you two are ganging up on me before the day has even started," he pointed between them, "Where is my sunshine? She'll stand up for me."

Emily's tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, "She's not here yet."

Derek spun around, instantly, "She's not here?"

This was looking to be a very bad day.

If Amelia wasn't here yet, that meant something had gone terribly wrong in her routine which would mean she was in an incredibly sour mood for the rest of the day.

And no-one wanted to deal with that.

"That's what I just said, yes." Emily clarified.

"Where is she?" He asked, looking under her desk just to make sure he wasn't about to be pranked.

Emily watched him in confusion, "She's not hiding under her desk, Morgan, she's just not here yet."

"Amelia is always here before me," Derek stated, placing his hands on his hips and turning to his friends, "And she's always here before you and Spencer. But never here before JJ or Hotch."

"Do you memorize her routine or something?"

"Stalker!" Emily sung.

Spencer nodded his head in Derek's direction, "It's true. She's actually got the best punctuality on the team. She's never been late."

Emily glanced at the watch on her wrist, "She's got two minutes until she loses that streak."

"One minute fifty nine, actually."

Spencer cowered in his seat at the glare Emily threw his way.

"I'm also not a stalker," Derek referred to the comment thrown his way earlier, "It's just Amelia is very particular, ever since..."

"Clara?" Emily asked.

Derek shook his head, "No, not Clara. Just something else." (That was putting it lightly) "Routine is very important to her, she takes it very seriously."

Spencer hummed, "Usually—"

"We've got a case." JJ interrupted with files in her hands as she strutted past them, all of them noted the tone of her voice.

It sounded beaten down, strained and like she had been on the verge of tears just moments before making her way towards them.

"You alright, blondie?" Derek asked as the blonde made way towards the BAU room, not sharing so much as a glance towards the agents when she nodded her head.

"I'd say she's not." Emily mused, picking up her necessities before following in JJ's footsteps into the BAU room.

Derek scoffed, glancing at Amelia's empty desk one last time before following Prentiss, "Thanks Captain Obvious how did you work that one out?"

"With intelligence, a beautiful brain—"

"Okay, watch it, Prentiss." Derek warned as he took his assigned seat in the BAU room.

An empty seat in-front of him that he couldn't kick.

Penelope and Spencer walked into the room, having somehow caught up in the past two minutes.

The technical analyst looked at Amelia's empty seat with a frown, "Where's Amelia?"

Derek shrugged, "Didn't you two get coffee this morning?"

"No," Penelope said with a shake of her head, "I texted her but she never responded, knocked on her apartment door and she wasn't there. I thought she'd just left early."

Derek's eyes widened, "You didn't think to, I don't know, text!"

Penelope's eyes widened, "Well—!"

"I'm sure she's fine." Emily interjected (even if she couldn't be completely sure of her own words) "Amelia might've just had something to do this morning that she forgot to mention."

Emily knew when Amelia had to do something, the agent never forgot to tell anyone. It was a good trait Amelia had, it meant that someone always knew where she was at all times.

And now no-one knew where she was.

Oh, goodness.

She was sure that if Amelia didn't turn up in the next two minutes Derek was going to send a search party.

Rossi entered the room next, the empty seat in the room not going missed by him, "Where's Amelia?"

"Not here." Emily stated.

"I can see that." He rolled his eyes and took his seat. "I meant where is she?"

"That's the same question."

"Prentiss—"

Whatever comment that was going to fall from Rossi's lips went unheard as the Unit Chief came into the room next, "Sorry. I had to make a call and—"

The empty chair was the first thing he noticed.

"Where's Levine?"

"No-one knows." Emily shrugged. "She's usually here by now."

"She should be here." Hotch glanced at his watch, his disappointment clear, "We'll have to brief her when she finally turns up."

He nodded his head in JJ's direction.

The debrief started without Amelia and throughout the whole debrief there had been an edge to JJ's voice, uncertainty and something else mixed in it.

Derek and Emily exchanged a glance.

Not only had she sounded tearful earlier on, now she sounded uncertain.

The case wasn't an easy one to present by any means, three women had gone missing in Fredericksburg and hadn't been seen since. To make matters worse they'd all been abducted from public places without so much as a trace.

Hotch noticed how one of the women looked like JJ.

She didn't seem to notice his concerned gaze.

Images popped up on the screen of body parts scattered around a national park with cigarette burns. The body belonged to first that had gone missing six weeks ago, with the body having been dead for a weak.

And to make things even worse, this case could be connected to a previous case in Fredericksburg: five women, 16-25, buried in pieces, same markings and the same civil war battlefield. And that case is still open.

Doesn't it just get better?

Yes, technically, they had a chance at finding two of the women alive and in cases like these two out of the three women was a victory.

JJ began staring at the victim's images, seemingly lost in them even when the team heard footsteps up the stairs.

Amelia stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, catching her breath, "Sorry." She panted.

Derek turned in his chair to stare at her in amusement and confusion. "Did you run to work today?"

Amelia held a finger in the air, ignoring his comment and still trying to catch her breath.

When she felt like her breathing rate was somewhat normal, "I'm sorry I'm late, Hotch." She looked in his general direction, "And sorry for missing the brief, it's been a crazy morning."

Hotch nodded his head. "We'll talk afterwards, Levine."

Amelia eyed him wearily, before taking her seat with some apprehension. "Again, I'm sorry—."

"You're already late, Levine, don't hold us up even more with your apologies."

"Oh." She whispered. "Sorry."

She hoped he hadn't heard that last apology. She hadn't meant to be late, and she hadn't meant for it to fall from her lips as some sort of excuse but she really had had a morning from hell.

Amelia was having a bad day to say the least. And she'd only been awake for three hours before it had descended into chaos.

Actually, it only took two seconds for Amelia's day to spiral and that had all been because she woke up with the feeling in her stomach. The dreaded pit in her stomach that had only ever brought her bad things. The dreaded pit with the funny feeling that she so needed to name considering it had been her longest friend.

So, within two seconds Amelia already hated today.

And then she'd dropped her phone into the sink when it started ringing.

Amelia had stared at the device that floated in the water with wide eyes and shock written all over her face.

Half an hour. She'd been awake half an hour and everything was going very wrong. Amelia had to rush around the apartment to get dressed, which resulted in odd socks and nearly leaving the house with two different heeled boots on.

Luckily, she had noticed that mistake and fixed it before leaving.

Amelia had left way earlier than usual, her routine all screwed up, but she now had to take her phone to a repair guy, pay him an immense amount of money to fix it and still get to work on time (Hopefully with a phone in hand.)

Amelia was even ready to pay charges for a new phone and her number just carried over.

The Levine really hoped no-one important had rung her.

(Penelope and her parents were waiting for her in the voicemail.)

(What Amelia didn't know wouldn't kill her.) (It might.)

Rossi raised his eyebrows at the Unit Chief, who ignored all the eyes on him.

Derek remembered the first time he had been late, and that was a great memory. Not of being late, of course not, but the experienced he'd had the night before, and it had been some experience. Luckily, for him, Hotch had said: "Everyone gets to be late once."

And Derek had not been late since.

He'd had a few near misses but he'd definitely not been late, late, since.

Derek hoped this wasn't another case of Hotch and his attitude towards women who have just joined the team because Derek never agreed with that attitude, and Amelia had been here long enough for Hotchner to be out of his pathetic attitude.

"Wheels up in thirty." Hotch told them, standing up and putting his folder under his arm, "Levine, with me."

Amelia nodded her head and picked at the nail polish on her pinky as she left the room.

His office was not the same office that she had pulled late nights doing paperwork in. It did not have the space cleared on the desk for her, with the same laughter and lighthearted chatter. It felt cold, it sent shivers up her spine.

And it was messy, with paper strewn everywhere and certainly disorganized.

Someone else had clearly been late this morning...

Not the time, Amelia.

Amelia stood in front of his desk like a child in the principal's office, waiting for her scolding as she found particular interest in the carpeted floor beneath her feet.

Except, Amelia wasn't just waiting for a scolding, she was going to receive one.

"Agent Levine, I don't take blatant disregard to time as a big thing usually but on a case like todays I find it very disrespectful and very disappointing from an agent of your caliber." He sighed, pinching the tension point between his eyebrows.

He'd only been at work twenty minutes and he already felt a headache coming on.

"I know, I'm sorry, sir, a lot of things went wrong this morning—"

"A lot of things went wrong for me this morning, Levine, but I still managed to show up on time and in one piece." He did look put together now, but that was only because he fixed his appearance after noticing how oddly Derek was looking at him earlier.

Amelia gulped.

It wasn't like a scolding wasn't normal for her. Had you met Amelia? She came from a house that had been filled with scoldings when she was younger, everything had been her fault even if she'd been six paces away from the scene of the crime.

Amelia knew how to take a scolding.

She knew how to stand there and bite her tongue, she knew to press her nails into the skin of her palm and never a let a single tear fall down her cheek.

Crying...

Well, that was frowned upon.

If he hadn't been having a bad day, Aaron probably would've looked closer at her. Noticed the clenched fists at her sides, or the fear in her eyes that she could never conceal when she was being scolded.

Usually, he never noticed when she looked scared of him. He never looked close enough.

(Amelia wasn't talking about Agent Hotchner.)

"You're going to have to spend the journey getting caught up, and when we arrive I want you to stay behind at the station." She didn't say anything. She didn't nod.

In fact, Amelia gave no indication that she had heard him.

But she had.

She knew better than to ignore someone when she was in the wrong.

Aaron realized she hadn't spoken, "Do you understand?"

It was harsher than he intended.

Amelia didn't flinch.

She'd heard worse.

"Yes, Sir."

Aaron nodded his head, "Good. Agent Jareau has your file."

Amelia didn't say anything.

She didn't nod her head.

She didn't apologize again.

Amelia knew when an apology wasn't needed, and she knew when it wouldn't be listened to. She couldn't tell you how many times she'd apologized just for it to be brushed aside and go unheard. Which was ironic considering the man in her house had always made her apologize for things.

He always wished for her the words 'I'm sorry' to fall from her lips. But he never listened.

Thomas Levine had made a habit out of that.

She scurried out of the office without another word.

Aaron watched her go.

Amelia made a beeline for JJ's office, ignoring her friend's concerned looks.

She failed to understand why they were concerned. Amelia had been late. She got the scolding she deserved. What was wrong about that?

The agent knocked three times on JJ's door, observing the flinch that came from the blonde. That was highly unusual.

It had seemed JJ was on another planet and only brought back to earth by Amelia's knocking. She tried her best to smile at the agent and find the file made for her on her desk. "Sorry, there's a lot of paper on here."

Even if Amelia was having a bad day, and smiling was her last priority, it seemed JJ needed the act of kindness, "Don't apologize, we'll look for it together." She offered, a kind smile tugging at her lips.

It was soft, it was reassuring.

It was everything that JJ needed for just five seconds. It cleared the constant buzzing in her head for just five seconds, it made her stand still and let some of the frustration leak out of her body and just rest for five seconds.

JJ couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong. It was a bad day. A bad case.

Everything just felt wrong.

"What does it look like?"

JJ laughed, it didn't hold humor. "Like every file on this desk." She rubbed, tiredly, at her eyes and cursed herself for her stupidity, "I'm sorry, Amelia, I'm all over the place and I lost the one thing that mattered."

Amelia placed a comforting hand on her elbow, "JJ, it's okay. It's a file, it's replaceable."

"I shouldn't have lost it—"

"It happens, JJ." Amelia reassured, "Things get lost and it's okay. Let's just print a new one and pretend it never happened."

JJ squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, "I still shouldn't have lost it."

"JJ it's a file, it's not the end of the world." Amelia told her, moving around the room to send another copy to the printer via JJ's computer, "And am I upset about it?"

"No."

"No, it's a file, JJ. We don't need to be upset about it."

"It just feels like everything is going wrong today." JJ admitted, quietly. "And the case—"

Amelia looked up from the computer, frowning at JJ. "We're going to do our best JJ." If Amelia had been on time she might be able to provide more comfort for JJ.

"I know..." JJ said, "I shouldn't even let cases get to me like this."

Amelia's eyes widened in surprise, "JJ, if a case gets to you there's nothing wrong with that. You have to be more careful, but there's nothing wrong with you just because you feel like this."

"We're going to find the unsub, okay? And if it gets too much just tell me, or tell one of us. Finding the unsub is one of our priories but your well-being is also one of those priorities." Amelia told her.

JJ nodded her head, offering a small and quick smile to Amelia before going to fetch the papers from the printer.

Amelia watched her go with a frown and decided to introduce a new feature; Amelia watch! She wasn't certain on the name yet, but it was the perfect thing that she and JJ needed.

Perfect for her so that she could avoid any thoughts about her idiocy of being late and disappointing her Unit Chief. And perfect for JJ because it meant Amelia was going to be by her side and making sure the blonde was alright throughout the day.

Was it going to get annoying? Probably.

But, when it came to her friends Amelia didn't kind annoying them if it meant she knew they were okay.

Even on her bad days.

✺

Amelia could handle a punishment, no matter how much she wanted to be out on the field, and would no doubt grow bored of this room she'd been confined to but she knew better than to argue with Agent Hotchner.

The voice of her mother was always there, reminding her not to argue with a man who held all the power.

Amelia would never win.

Just like her mother had never won.

Amelia could handle sitting at a desk all day normally, on a good day. Realistically, she could handle it on a bad day but she could not handle it on a bad day when the eyes of an officer would not stop staring into the back of her head.

She had been successfully ignoring him for the better part of thirty minutes. Until, the officer must've gotten bored of waiting for her to respond and approached the desk she sat herself at.

"You're Amelia Levine, right?" He was young, looked like he'd just joined the force. He still looked presentable and like he actually liked his job and had yet to hate it. Definitely new. This was probably his first murder case he'd worked on, and would be one of the few he does work if he stays on Fredericksburg.

Amelia didn't appreciate the way he made her sound like a celebrity, "Yeah, that's me. Just call me Levine though."

"I'm Charlie."

He held his hand out expectantly.

Amelia shook it.

She couldn't deny the way his tone implied that she was supposed to know this officer.

Charlie noticed this and spoke, "We've never met before, but I heard all about you from Clara."

Amelia went rigid. This could not be happening today.

"Clara never told me you were going to be an officer though, congratulations, you've only been here what? Two months?"

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows, "Yeah? How did you know that?"

Amelia chuckled under her breath, "Profiling. I could tell just by how happy you are to be here, you don't get that in a lot of the older officers."

Charlie kissed his teeth.

Amelia wondered if she said something wrong.

"I forgot you got promoted." He chuckled bitterly, "You got promoted and my sister died."

"Uh—"

"I was going to ask you how you're doing but with your new fancy job, I guess you're just fine." Charlie spoke through gritted teeth and saw the flashes of anger in his eyes.

Amelia knew that look all too well. And for a second, she just wanted to ignore this man who she had met two minutes ago, who was cursing her name, because for just a short while Amelia saw Clara.

She saw Clara.

And she felt a pain in her chest.

It wasn't rare to see Clara Beaumont angry. Little things could tick her off, and much larger things could tick her off. Whichever it was there would always be this anger that flashed by in three seconds. And in those three seconds, you knew it was over for you.

Amelia had only been on the receiving end of that anger once in her life. She had bought the wrong tub of ice cream on a very bad day.

Clara had quickly settled and apologized digging into the wrong tub of ice cream anyway.

It was usually the negotiation's Unit Chief who had faced her anger, or her brother's incessant phone calls.

Oh. That brother.

Yes, the memory of Charlie Beaumont was coming back to her in phases and what she could remember wasn't particularly pleasant. From what Clara had described him as was: childish, below average intelligence, short temper and a pushover with the knack for holding grudges.

Amelia looked him up and down as he spoke at her, words trailing off his tongue about how she should not be able to continue working when it was her fault his sister was dead.

Hadn't he heard the news?

That was all James Conrad's fault, he had been the one to lose his job after such a gross incompetence.

"Can I stop you?" Amelia interjected. She wasn't going to listen to him. Amelia had learnt that it wasn't her.

"I'm not done—"

"Yeah. You're not done speaking, but I'm done listening," Amelia hadn't really been listening... "What happened to Clara was not my fault. Clara was not sent into that building because of me. If you're looking for someone to blame, head to Seattle. I'm sure James Conrad is still knocking about the higher ups, trying to get his job back."

"His job that he lost because he sent your sister into that building with no back up." Amelia stood up, gathering her files in hand, her pastel highlighter slotting in the back pocket of her jeans.

"And maybe instead of trying to blame me, staring at the back of my head for thirty minutes, you could do your job. The one you're hired to do, the job you no doubt started just to be like Clara." Amelia said, clutching the file closer to her chest.

He was no Clara.

Charlie knew that.

Amelia knew that.

Even Clara fucking knew that.

"Beaumont." A gruff voice sounded from the doorway, that was the sheriff from Fredericksburg.

Amelia wondered how long he'd been stood there.

"Levine?"

Amelia didn't want to know how long Agent Hotchner had been stood there.

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut before spinning on her feel and facing the two men, who had just arrived so it seemed, "Sirs."

Charlie stumbled over his words, "I was just talking—"

"Pestering." Amelia muttered under her breath. "Insulting."

Agent Hotchner looked between them with a furrowed brow. "Is there something wrong here?"

"No." Amelia said.

"Yes—!"

Amelia looked at the young officer with distaste written over her face, she scoffed before shaking her head and leaving the small room she'd been confined in.

"I told you once before Beaumont—!"

Amelia didn't hear the rest of what the sheriff had to say before it was out of earshot and the only sound heard behind her was the footsteps of Agent Hotchner.

"Agent Levine."

His tone already sounded accusatory.

Amelia came to a sudden stop to face him, with raised eyebrows.

"We don't come here to get on the officer's nerves, we come here to solve cases, Levine. It was bad enough—"

Amelia interrupted him with a scoff, "You think I was getting on his nerves? Really? You don't think that he might've been getting on mine?" She shook her head.

"Officer Beaumont had some pretty nasty things to say, so I was just standing up for myself, seeing as you're so quick to jump to his defense."

With one final shake of her head, Amelia stepped out into the bullpen where the rest of the team were watching her with furrowed eyebrows as she got herself settled into whatever new piece of information they'd found.

She didn't care what it was. Amelia just wanted to focus on something other than Clara, Charlie and the Unit Chief's bad mood.

She'd left him in the wind and missed the way his face had fallen at the mention of the officer's last name.

Oh.

Today just kept getting worse, didn't it?

✺

Tomorrow would be no better. Amelia was still benched to office duties and another body had been found.

JJ came into the station with the sheriff (who Amelia still didn't know the name of) and Charlie in tow.

No-one missed the glares sent by Charlie in Amelia's direction.

"Family called this morning. She didn't come home last night." JJ explained.

"We're still trying to locate the victim." The sheriff informed them, Charlie following his movements like a lost puppy.

"We know he kills after he takes another victim, so we're running out of time here." JJ said with a wave of her hand in hopes to get the ball rolling.

Charlie continued to glare.

Derek wondered if he needed to punch someone.

"Alright, what do we know?" Agent Hotchner asked, a frown on his face as he looked Charlie up and down.

Arrogant for a man of his level.

"Definitely a copycat. Same MO, same dumpsite." Emily relayed the information Amelia had read about not so long ago.

"Only you never released any of that to the press," Rossi said, turning to the officer who used to be on the case twenty-seven years ago.

"So, he had to learn it from someone?"

Amelia picked her head up, nearly laughed at Charlie's expression before speaking, "The original unsub had a widow, right? Is it possible that she had a son and then this son followed in his father's footsteps?"

Charlie laughed under his breath, the agents in the room looked unimpressed by his actions, "How would that happen? His father was dead before he even popped out."

Lovely analogy.

"I'm not saying he learnt from his living father," Amelia shook her head, "There could be a diary or something like that. The son finds it, and with the right factors in his life he could turn into a killer."

JJ furrowed her eyebrows, "Mary and Robert did have a son."

"You've got a son who grew up without a father, searching for an identity." Amelia shrugged at Charlie, "But, what do I know? My fancy job could be wrong."

Agent Hotchner sighed and pinched the tension point between his eyebrows.

Derek and Emily smiled.

The sheriff's eyebrows furrowed, "Is there a problem with Charlie, agent?"

"No sir." Amelia smiled at the officer, "I've got no problem with officer Beaumont."

The two smiling agents were no longer smiling.

Rossi felt like the man left out due to the stony faces of his fellow agents.

"In all honesty, I think officer Beaumont's got the problem with me but we should really push it aside and focus on the case."

The officer sighed again. "Beaumont, wait outside."

"What!?"

"Do I have to tell you again, outside, Beaumont." He warned, not watching as the young officer retreated out of the room and grumbled under his breath.

The old man in the room (and no, not Rossi) said, "I remember Charlie Wilkinson was 15, he killed a neighbor's cat."

It seemed none of the Charlies were having a good time.

"He put it in a bag and hit it against a tree."

Oh. If Penelope was here she'd have a heart attack.

"How old is Charlie Wilkinson?" Emily asked.

"Mary was pregnant with him when Robert died."

It seemed a panic rose in the agents, "That's twenty-seven years ago. That makes him roughly the same as Robert, when he started killing."

Derek's phone rang as he put it on speaker, "What have you got for us, girl?"

"I just found the reason why Karen Foley was lying." This could be interesting, "She has a son."

Oh!

That was certainly interesting.

"So, you have two sons searching for an identity."

Hotchner sighed, whether that was at Amelia's comment and the mood she had decided to wake up in or that they now had to choose between the two sons. "We'll spilt into teams, Rossi and Prentiss, you go back to Karen Foley's house. The rest of us will pay Charlie a visit."

"Levine, with me."

Did he ever get tired of that demand? He seemed to be saying it more in these past two days than he had in his entire life.

Amelia fought the urge to groan.

Sure, she should've bit her tongue and not got Charlie into trouble but she was tired, pissed right off and had a sore back from the motel room beds. Amelia was not going to be a pleasant person to hang around today, or tomorrow.

Charlie just should've known that.

"Wait—" Penelope's rushed voice was not heard by Amelia as she followed the Unit Chief out of the room, and whatever the analyst had to say could be relayed back to the chief when he reentered the room.

Because no doubt Amelia was going to be sentenced to desk duty today.

"Was that necessary? We are not here to fight the officers, Levine. We are here to work together and solve this case." He huffed, "And if you are going to be causing problems then I have no problem sending you back to the BAU."

"Send me back then."

He didn't look away from her as she spoke.

"What? Sending me back would be just as effective as having me here. I'm not doing anything. I'm sat in a chair all day because I was late by five minutes." Her fists clenched at her sides, "Which I apologized for, by the way. But you didn't want to hear it."

"So, send me back to the BAU. It's not going to make a difference."

"Agent Levine—"

Agent Hotchner cut himself off as Officer Beaumont walked past them.

He came to a standstill beside them, his fists clenched at his sides, Charlie ignored Amelia and only spoke to the Unit Chief, "I'm surprised you took her on, considering her reputation. She'll get one of you killed, or fired. It's what she does."

Amelia rolled her eyes.

"I mean, she got me suspended for the day just because I was telling the truth!" Amelia saw that anger flash in his eyes, again.

Her lips upturned slightly, despite the situation.

There you are, Clara.

His voice rose, as well, causing the agents in the room beside them to look up from the table in confusion and concern.

"You really want someone like that on your team, Agent Hotchner?"

"Amelia Levine, the agent who can't accept the blame for her own mistakes, who gets agents killed because she liked playing the favorite!" Hotchner wasn't even listening to the angry officer, his eyes instead focused on the agent he had been too harsh on these last two days.

The agent he expected to crumble under Charlie's words.

But, she didn't.

Amelia stood tall.

She didn't even pick at her polish, or beat her hand against her thigh.

If anything, she watched Charlie in amusement.

Amused at how wrong he was.

"I think it's time you get home, Charlie. You're embarrassing yourself." Amelia told him.

He laughed in her face, stepping closer to her.

Agent Hotchner held a hand out in-front of his agent, permitting Charlie from stepping any further, "Step back, Officer Beaumont."

Charlie looked up at him in shock, "She's got you wrapped around her little finger as well?" He shook his head, "C'mon man! She's a vindictive bitch, don't fall for it! Get her fired or something."

"Officer Beaumont, I'm warning you—"

"Warning me?" He pointed at himself, his finger shaking as he did so, "Me? What have I done? Tell the truth? That it should've been her, not my sister."

The door opened to the separate room the BAU had been using, at the incredibly wrong moment.

Amelia felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. There was the pit she hadn't woken up with this morning. She'd oddly missed it.

But, it was back with venom and with spite.

She felt like she'd been punched by a superhero.

She'd never been told that before, which was odd considering the situation she'd found herself in.

"Morgan, get him out of here." Agent Hotchner demanded.

Charlie shook his head and stepped away from the agents, "Don't worry, I can see myself out. Don't wanna cause anymore trouble."

Trouble? That was an understatement.

Amelia picked at the loose thread on the sleeve of her shirt.

A silence fell among the agents, there was only one of them who didn't understand what had just happened (Amelia was trying to find the courage to talk to her childhood idol about the fact she had killed her own best friend)

Woah. Wait. No, you hadn't Amelia.

You hadn't killed her.

But, it should've been you.

Amelia plucked up the courage to speak first, "I'm going to get back to what I was doing."

Amelia hadn't been set a task to do. But, anything was better than standing there and waiting for someone to ask about what Charlie had said. Or even the dreaded question of 'are you okay?'.

Yeah.

Amelia was. Or she will be.

It was Clara who could never be okay again.

And that should've been Amelia.

She turned around and a hand on her elbow permitted her from going anywhere, Derek, "Penelope said you were getting some calls from a Washington number. It seemed urgent."

It wasn't. (It was)

But, Amelia didn't feel like talking to her parents.

Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe next week.

Or next year.

Amelia waved her hand, "They can wait."

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, "But—" He knew the number, and he knew Penelope knew the number.

"They can wait." She insisted, walking down the corridor to the room she had become acquainted with this week.

And again came the following footsteps of Aaron Hotchner.

Amelia sighed and spun around to face him, her eyebrows raised. "Is there something you need, Agent Hotchner?"

"Levine—"

She cut him off, "Please, sir, don't waste your time on me. You need to catch this unsub."

Was it not earlier that Amelia said the well-being of JJ was also a priority in this case?

Well. Amelia had meant the well-being of every agent other than herself.

Her hand rested on the doorknob as he opened his mouth to speak, "I really need to get to work, sir, and so do you."

"Good luck."

Amelia had no work to do.

She only had a mind swirling with thoughts to make her day worse.

✺

They'd done it. It had been Charlie Wilkinson, murdering women just like his father had, reading his diary and finding it be his birthright.

And to make things just that little more interesting, Charlie's mom killed his dad.

Respect.

Amelia didn't voice her opinion on that, she didn't voice her opinion on anything on the ride back. She'd slept, the whole way.

Which was unusual in so many ways that Derek Morgan did not have the time to tell you how unusual that was!

While Agent Hotchner was glad she was getting some sleep, he was incredibly annoyed that he would not be given the opportunity to apologize to her.

He'd been a bit of an asshole. A bit of a drill sergeant. He'd been harsh on her when he'd had agents do the exact same and get away with it, or at least granted to push the opportunity aside.

But, no. He'd let his bad day become her bad day. And hers had gotten even worse, and all he'd done was scold her.

Granted, she could've handled Beaumont better but he doubted she would've - not with the mood she was in.

Hotchner wasn't even presented with the opportunity when they got back to the office, because his day was going to go from bad to worse - very quickly.

"Who's up for a drink?" Derek asked. He needed Amelia on shot duty and quick. Or, she was going to become insufferable.

"Who's up for five?" Emily held her hand up.

Derek perched himself on the edge of Amelia's desk, "What about you, sunshine? You want to wash these bad few cases down with a little vodka?"

"No, thank you." Amelia whispered, finding herself busy with a form.

Derek frowned, "What that idiot said back there—"

"It's not about that, Derek." Amelia lied, "I'm just tired."

"What about a mocktail? Then you don't miss out on any of the fun and don't have a killer hangover tomorrow." He suggested, poking her leg with his shoe.

"Derek," she said, looking up from the piece of paper and up at him, "I don't want to go."

Derek pulled her up from her desk chair, JJ laughing quietly as she groaned, "Come on! Even Spencer is going."

Derek just wanted the opportunity to keep his eye on Amelia.

"I always go!" Spencer interjected.

"Yeah," Derek chuckled, dragging Amelia towards the glass doors, "You sit there and read all night, tonight, my man, we're getting you a beer."

"I'm sure he's underage." Amelia muttered.

Spencer rolled his eyes.

"That's my girl!" Derek exclaimed, forcing Amelia's hand to high five his.

"Hotch, you coming for a beer?" Rossi asked, once all the agents had caught up with him. Even the pissed off Amelia, who looked ready to kick the shit out of Derek.

"Yeah, sure." He responded, even if he seemed worlds away.

The glass doors opened right as the agents came to stand in-front of them. "Agent Hotchner?" A random man with a visitors pass asked.

"Yes."

There was a package in hand, most likely of paper, and a clipboard with something for the Unit Chief to sign.

Hotchner seemed to realize what was happening, right in-front of everyone.

His day did indeed go from bad to worse.

He didn't seem to be the only one who realized what was happening.

The excited faces of everyone about to get a beer seemed to fall.

"What is it?" Emily dared to ask.

The visitor left when the paper had been signed.

Rossi knew all too well what had been signed.

"Haley's filing for divorce. I've been served." Hotchner admitted.

His own heart seemed to drop at the admission.

Never could the theatre boy who dreamt of her attention imagined this.

Aaron had never thought it would end like this. It was his own fault. He'd done this. He'd pushed her too far, became the hard-working man and not the husband he was supposed to be.

The Unit Chief headed towards his office.

All the agents knew that meant no beers. They were too concerned for their Unit Chief to even be saddened by that.

They slowly began to disperse out of the office.

And when Amelia realized it was just her, Spencer and Hotchner left she decided to do something. (And Penelope, in her lair)

She couldn't sit here any longer.

Amelia was going to be brave and walk up the steps to the Unit Chief's office and tell him something he'd told her many times before. Even if, multiple times this week, she'd wanted to scream in his face and say he was overreacting with a lot of things.

Hotch didn't need someone to shout at him.

He needed someone to tell him he wasn't alone.

But, she had to get past Spencer first.

"Where are you going?" She had only picked up a sheet of paper and turned right before the genius spoke up.

This was going to be much more difficult than she planned for.

Amelia stuttered before turning to face Spencer, "I have this very urgent form that Hotch is going to need to sign."

"He just got served and you're giving him paperwork?"

No. It's a decoy, Spencer!

"Uh, yeah. I thought that would make him happy. You know? He loves paperwork." Amelia said.

She nodded her head as if to convince herself of her own lie and headed towards Hotch's office, nothing Spencer could logically say was going to stop her from doing this.

She could always say it tomorrow.

Or the day after.

Or the day after that.

But, he would never wait to tell her.

Amelia knocked on his door, and waited for his voice behind the block of wood.

For the first time in a while, Hotch's door was actually closed.

It caused Amelia to frown.

"Come in."

He sounded upset.

But he didn't sound like he had been crying.

That was a positive.

Right?

Amelia wasn't making a mistake, was she? Or, was this the complete wrong thing to do?

Oh.

Maybe this was stupid.

"Come in, Levine."

His call dragged her out of her own thoughts. How did he know?

She pushed the door open, her frown turning into a sheepish smile for him.

He didn't like it when she frowned.

So, she would try her best not to.

He looked up with raised eyebrows, willing her to speak.

Amelia nodded and remembered what she was actually here for, "Oh! I have this form, thingy, for you, it's not urgent or anything I just wanted you to have it before—"

He took it from her with a sigh. "Is that all, Levine?"

Yes.

It should be.

She nodded her head, turning on her heel and found herself back by the door to his office.

What are you doing?

Turn back around, and say something you idiot!

Okay.

Listen to yourself Amelia! Your brain is correct, for once.

He looked back down at the form she had handed in. It didn't need to be handed in for another month.

(It was a form of absence. Family matters.)

Amelia swiveled round and caused the unit chief took look up at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"I just wanted to say—" she cut herself off, as if debating if this was going to be completing idiotic and make a fool of herself for what felt like the hundredth time this week, or just this case for that matter.

No.

He deserved this, Amelia.

She took a deep breath before speaking, with no interruptions this time around. "My door is always open for you, you know? My desk might not have a door or anything but the point remains, Hotch."

"I want to make sure you don't slip through the cracks, or you lose yourself."

"What I'm trying to say is that, you aren't alone and you need to know that."

Didn't this sound familiar Aaron Hotchner?

Unintentionally, she was using his own words right now.

Offering him that same shoulder to cry on, that same stability he had offered her.

Aaron didn't really know how to feel.

He should be alone.

"Yeah." Amelia nodded her head, "That's all. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. And if you don't remember, I'll be sure to remind you."

No.

No.

No!

Doesn't she see? Doesn't she see that he is the problem, the problem who doesn't need consoling because he did this?

If he'd just been better, if he'd just been a better husband, father, a better man this never would've happened.

If Aaron Hotchner had just been better he would still have everything he cherished.

Amelia took his silence as a her cue to leave, "Goodnight, Hotch. Drive safe."

She had a foot over the door before she stopped.

"And I don't know... I'm probably the wrong person, but I'm only a text away, Hotch. If it ever gets too much."

If it ever gets too much.

He couldn't ask that of her.

Amelia should let him slip through the crack. She should look back once and never again.

He didn't deserve this.

He deserved a divorce, he deserved that. He deserved the solitude that came from being this divorced man who'd only see his son on weekends.

He deserved that.

And he didn't deserve much more.

She mustered up one smile before exiting the office.

She shut the door behind her.

It didn't need to be open tonight.

"There you are!" Penelope exclaimed, a phone in her hand as she approached the agent. "I have been looking everywhere for you."

The blonde side hugged Amelia and covered the speaker of the mobile in her hand, "You have some callers. It's urgent apparently."

Amelia rolled her eyes, "Thanks P. Sorry you had them calling you today."

"It's no problem, sugar. I just told them you were busy."

"When you're done do you wanna stay the night at mine?" Penelope offered, she wanted to say: I want to make sure you're okay.

But she didn't.

She knew Amelia would refuse if she did.

Amelia gulped, "I think I'm just going to be alone tonight, P, it's been a long day."

It's been a long week.

(It's Tuesday)

Penelope nodded, sadly. "Okay. Just, text me, when you get home, okay? And keep safe, Amelia."

Amelia nodded her head, "I will, P. You drive safe."

Penelope kissed her on the cheek and descended down the stairs to wish Spencer a goodnight.

"Levine." She knew who it was, but it had been a long day and Amelia couldn't be bothered to sound happy for her parents today.

"Where have you been?" The harsh voice that she hadn't missed of her father sounded over the phone.

"Work."

"Why?"

Amelia cut him off with a scoff, "Because I have a loyalty to the job, that I can't just turn off whenever you decided to call me once a month. You can wait, the poor victims out there can't."

Her father gasped.

And Amelia was sure she heard a sob in the background.

"This can't wait, Amelia. You were supposed to be here, today. You knew what today was, and you put the job above your mother's health!"

Amelia's eyebrows furrowed, "What?"

"The appointment, Amelia."

Amelia's stomach dropped.

...

"What?" She asked, with a wobble in the word.

That had not been today. The checkup was next month. She was sure of it. Why else would she have booked two days off next month? Amelia would never mix the two up.

Not when it came to her mother's appointments.

Amelia had been to every single one, holding onto Martha's hand and wiping her tears to be strong for the woman.

"That's wasn't today. That's next month." Amelia said, doubt dripped in every word as she approached her desk and made her way straight for the calendar on it.

Penelope and Spencer watched her in confusion as she flipped to next month.

"See? I've got it on my calendar for next month." Amelia told him.

DA - ML.

That's what Amelia had put it down as, that way no-one would ask questions.

"It's doesn't matter when you wrote it down. It was today, Amelia. And you missed it." He paused. "They think it's back."

The date on the calendar didn't seem so important anymore.

"What?"

That's all she seemed capable of saying.

"They think the—"

"Think?" Amelia reiterated, "How can they think if it's back or not. It's a yes or no."

"They need to run more tests. You need to get down here."

I can't.

I can't.

She didn't seem able to say it to him.

"I—" The single word tumbled from her mouth.

"Amelia."

It sounded like a beg. From her own father's mouth. That never happened.

"I can try." It was meek, it was a lie.

"Try?!"

She held the phone away from her ear.

Could it get any worse for Aaron Hotchner and Amelia Levine?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
one day things will go right for both of them

(you have to wait till season six for that to happen 😭 and even then it doesn't last long!)