Hello, Again

Chapter 12

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All the world is waiting for the sun
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A/N - The following chapter is dedicated to S.B. ( You know who you are! ) You are and always will remain one of the sunniest people I've ever met, and the fact that you kept up with this story means so much to me. :)

Darkness closed in on her as she struggled to grasp at something, anything, her lungs devoid of oxygen as she inhaled in futility.

Sometimes, Sadness was more than just a shadow in her apartment.

Amelia was no stranger to nightmares. She was no stranger to wading in the sea and drowning in sand and having her mouth stuffed with an endless flurry of cottony snow - pain and breathlessness and fear for her survival, at least when her eyes were closed, were old companions of hers. But something much stranger, and much more potent, lurked at the edges of her slumber, in the twilight between sleep and wakefulness, when her eyes would droop from sheer exhaustion but her mind would continue to wander.

Sometimes, just as her sleeping pills began to take effect, Amelia would be jerked awake by the sheer absence of air in her lungs.

She told herself it was no big deal, during the day. She pretended she had a full night's sleep and that she was revitalized and that it was all okay - that her doctors knew what they were doing and that she didn't need anyone to check up on her dosage - but almost every night, she would lie restless in her bed, awake but still, her limbs shivering and her heart quaking, and she'd pray for it to stop, for some respite for this breathless reality she didn't yet fear as much as sand or sea or snow.

She heaved in another breath tonight, as on any other night, and whimpered in pain as her lungs seared.

...

"This Emily sounds nice enough, though. What's her deal again?"

"She's an intern at the Met research cell - soon to be promoted to a full time employee, if she chooses to stay - and she's, well, for lack of a better word, she's my work buddy."

"Uh-huh?"

"Yes," Amelia said defensively, "I mean, she's this very bubbly, enthusiastic, grounded person with a lovely personality, you know. She's nice."

"Uh-huh?"

"What? She's really nice!"

"That's a lot of adjectives, don't you think?"

"What will convince you of my sincerity? Do I have to give her a tragic backstory too?" Amelia said, rolling her eyes irritably, and Trevor chuckled.

"You're cute when you're annoyed."

"Well you're annoying when you're trying to be cute."

"Touche, Barnett."

Amelia huffed irritably and sipped her wine. Her lightweight-status aside, it was the Sunday following her fateful meeting with Sarah. Feeling far more shaken and vulnerable than she would ever admit, she'd walked out of that café (following a jittery, nervous hug) and messaged Trevor almost instantly, begging him to come over the following afternoon.

True to his word, he'd appeared. And true to his reputation, he brought wine.

"You know that stuff's not good for me", she'd whined at the front door, eyeing the bottle with longing, remembering fully well how their last Sunday tryst had ended with her passed out on her couch and being late to work the next day. He grinned in response.