ā You look tired. ā
āi am tired. Honestly, I donāt think I stop being tired anymore.āĀ
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ā You look tired. ā
āi am tired. Honestly, I donāt think I stop being tired anymore.āĀ

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closed starter for @baumotherā
Itād been a Thursday morning when the first letter arrived, an innocent-looking plain white envelope sitting in Taissaās empty mailbox, with nothing on it apart from her address scrawled in almost illegible handwriting. Itād taken her awhile to decipher what was actually in the letter, but the first couple of sentences were enough to get her stomach churning, the bile rising in her throat. Sheād shoved it back into the envelope, tossed it straight into the trash just so she wouldnāt have to look at it, but a couple hours later her Bureau instincts kicked in and sheād pulled it back out to keep as evidence.
Foolishly, sheād hoped it would go away if she ignored it for long enough. Until the second letter came. By the third letter, sheād installed a new electronic lock on her door and two motion sensor security cameras - one in the outer hallway and the other in full view of her apartment. The nights dragged on far too long as she lay in bed sleepless, staring at the doorway and hyper aware of every creak and groan in the building.
If you were to ask Taissa why she hadnāt approached anyone about it - she worked at the FBI for Christās sakes - she wouldnāt have known what to respond. That she was too afraid of the consequences? That she didnāt want to trouble anyone with her issues? That she didnāt want her daddy issues dug up and examined under a microscope? The list went on, really.
Sheād learnt from experience that sometimes it was better to just deal with these things alone, that it was infuriating how people learnt to treat you like glass and stepped on eggshells around you - which was exactly what she had begun to notice from her team. She supposed she couldnāt expect all the sleepless nights and lackluster work performance to escape their notice; they were all trained agents after all.
@baumotherāĀ saidĀ Ā āIĀ meanā¦Ā IāveĀ madeĀ worseĀ choicesĀ before.ā
THEREāS A VERY THIN LINE:Ā Ā betweenĀ vulnerableĀ andĀ exposed,Ā Ā betweenĀ tooĀ honestĀ andĀ justĀ honestĀ enough.Ā Ā maeveĀ doesnātĀ talkĀ aboutĀ herself,Ā Ā Ā noneĀ ofĀ themĀ do,Ā Ā butĀ maeveĀ especiallyĀ makesĀ anĀ artĀ ofĀ avoidingĀ anyĀ topicĀ thatĀ mightĀ revealĀ tooĀ much.Ā Ā herĀ constanceĀ impermanenceĀ isĀ madeĀ easierĀ byĀ theĀ factĀ thatĀ theĀ othersĀ remainĀ onlyĀ colleaguesĀ Ā Ā -Ā Ā Ā beingĀ friendsĀ wouldĀ simplyĀ beĀ tooĀ much.Ā Ā butĀ theyĀ wereĀ boundĀ toĀ noticeĀ howĀ herĀ engagementĀ ringĀ noĀ longerĀ restsĀ onĀ herĀ finger,Ā Ā Ā howĀ todayĀ sheāsĀ allĀ theĀ quieter.
āĀ Ā myĀ motherĀ willĀ beĀ devastated.Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā hasĀ sheĀ mentionedĀ maryĀ before?Ā Ā itĀ feelsĀ odd,Ā Ā Ā personal,Ā Ā Ā butĀ thereāsĀ noĀ gettingĀ outĀ ofĀ thisĀ withoutĀ sayingĀ moreĀ thanĀ sheĀ has.Ā Ā Ā theĀ engagementĀ withĀ bobbyĀ isĀ overĀ andĀ allĀ sheĀ feelsĀ isĀ soĀ painfullyĀ hollow.Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā I-Ā Ā itĀ wasĀ theĀ rightĀ choice.Ā Ā notĀ allĀ ofĀ usĀ areĀ rightĀ forĀ marriage,Ā Ā youĀ know?Ā Ā ā
dangerouslyfunny memeĀ Ā |Ā Ā accepting
how many times am i going to have to force you to leisure?Ā
āiām not good at leisuring,ā she says.Ā āiām good at working, and analyzing.āĀ
sheās not the worst at it, really: sheās great at it during girls nights, whether thatās at one of their places or some dance studio they stay out too late in. itās not that she doesnāt know how, it just ... slips through the cracks unless someone forces her to.Ā
āthat pile of folders isnāt going to write itself,ā thereās a dry laugh at the end of that, but it falls a little flat.Ā
ā Promise me youāre not gonna over-react. ā
āyouāre already making me worry.āĀ
itās an instinct at this point. the worry. especially when someone tells her not to. itās not that sheās irrational, but -- hell, sometimes someone tells them all not to worry and ends up in prison, or in the hospital, or some other horrifying thing.Ā
ājust tell me youāre okay, jayje.āĀ

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ā i canāt , i canāt , i just ā canāt . ā
āokay. look at me, jayje.āĀ
reaching out is instinctual, as is the lowering of her voice. so many years on this team, with these friends, and it doesnāt matter that sheās only just back, that the title of unit chief has been hefted onto her shoulders so suddenly - she has known all of them too long for there to be a gap in knowing how to love them.Ā
emily reaches out to clasp her fingers around jjās wrist.Ā
( and suddenly sheās the new girl again, standing in a bathroom doorway of an unfamiliar house, watching a woman with blood-stained sleeves clasp the edge of a sink, because the teamās youngest is missing andĀ compartmentalizationĀ is a better answer than i was a spy for years to the liaisonās question. )Ā
āweāre not going to lose him. i told him that and iāll tell you the same thing. weāre going to get that kid back, with the help of the bureauās lawyers or not. iāve got a friend, iām going to give her a call. okay?āĀ
she rubs her thumb back and forth across her wrist.Ā
is it even something she can promise? she knows itās not. maybe if she was an agent, not the head of the unit, sheād allow herself to falter in her own belief in front of others.Ā
but sheās not, and theyāre counting on her.Ā