A/N: Heavy mention of mental illness and being medically baker acted. If you are not comfortable with these subjects please look for the **, which signifies where that angst has ended. Thanks for reading!

APOV – The First Month

After Brittany dropped me off I did not call her, did no text her, had not had the strength to give anything to anyone but her. The first phone call was the worst, but as we hit the end of the week they were getting better. She sounded a little less… drugged.

"Hi Mommey," I recited the proper greeting as I had for years.

"Hi Ruggie," she said. "You'll never believe what's been happening here." She sounded bitter.

"I bet I can't!" Enthusiasm drowned the sorrow I actually felt. This was always good, when she wanted to tell me what was happening and not just ask if I was mad at her like the first call.

She proceeded to tell me of a woman who was administered the Thorziene Shuffle after getting into a brawl with none other than… herself. "I don't belong here, but they're still making me go to group."

"I know, but you don't want to be a lifer," I answered using her favorite movie to hopefully bring a smile to her face.

"And that's why Freud's picture is on every fucking shrinks wall!" She replied quietly, but happily. "Sorry – they're probably listening into whatever I'm saying."

I shook my head… maybe not as good as we thought.

The Second Month

She'd been doing fine. We had done a family dinner for the first two weeks of this month. I thought about calling Matt… apologizing. Reading all that stupid shit on sharing everything with the ones you loved – gag.

But this month was important because this month no one was listening in or trying to record her. This month she wasn't running all over the place just spewing about experiencing life before she dies. She wanted me to run away with her. I was the only thing that mattered to her. I always had been.

"You're the reason I stay alive."

She used to tell me that at 5.

The last week we got the call. She had been Baker Acted from the hospital after passing out at a Doctor's office. Med adjustment again, but this time there was no calming her down. This time they restrained her and she remained in the room. The one you see with the white padded walls. She stayed there for 24 hours straight. The months crawled away.

The Third Month

This time she promised she was okay. She was good. The scars on her wrists were beginning to heal and she'd promised to talk when she went to Doctor Johnson.

Phew – thought no one.

Could we count on that? The issue was it wasn't her fault and I told her that the second week. We sat watching horror movies, a seemingly normal mother and daughter, but she still sneaked side-glances at me like I'd disappear. Like her going into the hospital the first time had something to do with my leaving.

I told myself I dropped it, but I didn't.

So when Jason finally called that last week he was in a car quicker than I could make my tears stop.

"Shhhh," he cooed as he grabbed hold of me in my room.

It wasn't intimate. I could break with him. He didn't have to deal with me for the rest of his life day in and day out.

"I read that stupid fucking message every damn day," I hiccupped through tears.

"I know you do. You're allowed to. You're allowed to have time Amelia. This is… heavy," he replied stroking my back.

I leaned back and looked at him. "Would you do it?"

He tilted his head to the side, but understanding soon focused his eyes. "I would. Especially if it was for a girl like you. You need time to sort out what you want. Why do you think you can't be with him?"

I laughed cynically.

"She might need me at the drop of a hat."

"She's your mother. If she needs you she can call. It's not fair of her to put your life on hold. I know she's sick, but fuck. How much can she ask of you?" He asked incredulously.

I stood up and tore at my hair.

"This is what I'm afraid of with him. I don't know how to express that she's… it's like a duty. A calling. Like I'm the only person in the world she fucking responds to and I hate it," I replied kicking the shit out of a cloths basket.

Jason didn't flinch. He didn't bat an eye. This was the fight I had to wage within myself. He was just there to guide me.

"Can you live your life and feel completely responsible for her as well? Can you be happy here?" He asked looking down at his hands. "I left my responsibility to my mother to go to Tallahassee and Amelia… look at me…"

He stepped up to me, cupping my cheeks in his hands. "You've never been happier," I replied smiling.

His light brown eyes sparkled with a mischief that hadn't been there before he left. His lips curled into a crooked smile that replaced his once reserved smile. He was touching me like he intended to spread all his happiness through our skin.

"Can you do it here?" He asked quietly.

I didn't need to answer. My body broke down into his arms. He just held me to him tightly. "You have to tell him Amelia."

"About me or her?" I asked after some time.

"Everything. I'd want to know. I know he does."

"I love you Jay. You're always the voice of reason," I said settling comfortably against him.

He placed a kiss at the top of my head and said quietly, "I know sweet girl. Sleep. I love you too."

He wasn't there when I woke up in the morning, but I felt better. That was a relationship that had always been hard to understand, but the more we dug up about one another's lives the more mutual respect and love we gained for one another. He was always there when she got Baker Acted, I was always there when his ran out of money and needed to clean his savings, and he was there when I lost my shit. That hadn't happened in a while, but he was right. Matt needed to know.

The Fourth Month

I'd talked to J and he had settled plans for the Gala. And on the last week when Brittany told me it would be a Masquerade and Matt was attending I wanted to throw everything I'd thought the past couple weeks out of the fucking window. I didn't have enough strength to do this.

"Will you and Rob help me move in?" I asked.

"Duh stupid. And don't worry, we already spoke with Matt. He knows you'll be there. He just wants a chance to mull things over with you. He's up and down these days," she replied.

"Join the fucking club. I don't even know my head from my ass most days," I replied laughing.

"Yeah well… you've always sort of been that way babe!"

"Fuck off! I'll be in the airport at about 2. Are you and Rob already at his place?"

"Yeah, we've been here for a few days. Just give me a call and I'll see you then, okay?"

"Yeah… and B? Thanks…"

"Shut up chav. That's what best friends are fucking for. Although you better not pull that not talking to me shit ever again. Even just a fuck you I'm sorting through shit was better than radio silence. I love you." Her voice was laced with a heavy bit of emotion as I reiterated my sentiment of love to her and we hung up.

Looking around at my room all packed up once again gave me a renewed sense of purpose. I was meant to be there. And I hoped I was meant to be with him too.

Present Day

The shopping trip had been an absolute fucking disaster for my bank account, but not for my closet. Before I knew it time had flown to be 10:30. I felt accomplished because my closet was cleared of all the old outfits, but cursed as I fumbled around the room looking for my phone. I said I'd fucking call.

Damnit.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hullo?"

It was like velvet hearing his voice once again…

"Uh, Matt?" I asked stupidly.

"Amelia hey…hold… shut the fuck up Art! Jesus Christ." I heard shuffling and a small giggle escaped my lips. "Hi, I'm sorry about that. Insufferable friends and all."

"Yes, I've met the mass of them Matt," I smiled. "How um… how are you?"

"I'm better now."

I heard ruffling and I wanted to ask: are you lying in your bed? Are you in pajamas? Did you miss my voice?

"How are you? I assume better now you're back?" There was an edge to that question in his voice. He may not still be mad, but he wasn't happy that he still didn't fully understand.

I'd rectify that.

"Yes, much. I'm sorry for calling so late. I got caught up in my closet," I said.

There were a few moments of silence before both of us began cracking up. I tried to catch my breath, but just the sound of his laughter left me feeling elated. It took a weight off my chest I didn't know had been pressing down.

Pressing down since the day I'd left him.

"My, America must have done a number on you this time then M," he said.

My face fell because boy did it.

"Many parts of it really did."

"You know I wouldn't mind hearing a story about it sometime if you wanted…" he trailed off hopefully.

"I'm just grateful you have interest in the story I have to tell after…"

"We'll weed out all the details when we meet, but I must confess… I'd much rather meet with you in a private setting. No distracting waiters asking us if we'd like another coke or a family of 17 deciding that the only volume they know is intensively loud. If you're not okay with that then it's fine though."

"No, no that's fine. I agree. There's a lot… Where would you like to meet?"

Please not in this shithole – I begged silently.

"Do you remember your way here?"

He seemed to get shy at that. A blush crept its' way up my body as I remembered falling softly into bed with him. We never did progress and maybe this was why. Maybe we both needed to find out what we were standing on our own two feet.

I had to push out the fear of her.

I had to push out the fear of myself.

Fear of loving him completely.

"I do, yes."

"Five thirty here tomorrow then? That'll give me some time to clean the mancave."

I laughed lightly and voiced my agreement before hanging up.

Here I was once again going to meet Matt Fucking Smith.

I fell back onto my pillows letting my nerves take my veins hostage.

A/N: THE MEETING – AHHHHHHHHHHH. So as you can see Amelia has some very real fears about her mother and herself. Leave Matt some love so he can pass some more over on to our girl 3