There was a tapping noise coming from somewhere- Amy wasn't sure where exactly, in the precinct. There was always noise going on, that was just a guarantee if you were working in a busy police station, but today the tapping was distracting her more than usual.
From the moment she'd woken up this morning she'd known it was going to be a bad day. The weight of her hair on her shoulders bothered her so she'd had to scrape it into the tightest bun she could manage, but even that was giving her a headache and she was constantly able to feel the stress of her hair follicles.
Even her contacts, something she was normally fine with seemed to be giving her issues. She had debated with herself about wearing her glasses but today she just couldn't deal with the lewd comments she'd get from Jake. She knew he'd stop if he asked her but asking would just seem like a surefire signal that She Wasn't Okay and Amy didn't want that. She was fine. She could deal.
If only whoever was tapping - probably Boyle, would stop it.
'You're fine Santiago, get a grip.' She tried to repeat to herself, again and again, but she could feel her grip on her pen getting tighter. Her bun was still too tight and her contacts still felt awkward in her eyes, but she was fine.
"Hey, Santiago! You okay?"'
She forced herself to turn and saw Rosa. Amy tried to smile, but it felt foreign on her lips. "Fine! I'm good! Never better! I'm on the top of my game!"
She tried to stop herself rambling, but the words continued spilling out. Abruptly, she stood up.
A cigarette is what she needed. She would just have one cigarette . Then she would be fine. Brilliant. Excellent. Perfect.
Amy barely registered how quickly she was moving until she ran into Captain Holt. His face remained emotionless but Amy still felt like she was failing him and everyone else. For a minute she felt torn in two between attempting to be polite to her superior and the urge she had to just Run.
The urge won out. Hopefully Captain Holt wouldn't be too angry with her.
She got onto the roof and fished out a cigarette from her pocket. She looked for her lighter but she couldn't find it. She sunk to the ground in a defeated way and almost screamed.
She was Amy Santiago. Queen of organisation. How had she forgotten her lighter?
She wanted to stand up and go back inside. She wanted to get on with her work, but her legs refused to let her stand up. She felt almost like jelly. Or yogurt as Terry would say.
She let out a slightly shaky laugh. No one used yogurt to describe wobbly legs. She was being dumb.
Amy could feel herself spiralling and when she heard the roof door open it took all her strength to look up.
"Santiago?" Amy turned her head to see Rosa who's mouth was in a deeper scowl than normal, even for her. "What's wrong. Do you want to," Rosa paused, clearly not comfortable, "talk?"
"No! Like I said before I'm fine! Nothing's wrong, I promise! It's just one of those days you know!"
Amy continued rambling, yet again, but this time she was unable to stop herself and run. The words flew out of her mouth, quicker and quicker until they were barely words anymore. "Fine, fine, fine!"
"Santiago! ¡no te preocupes, esta bien!"
Amy managed to close her mouth and sigh, breathing deeply. In and out. In and out.
When she was a child, sometimes she'd get her English and Spanish mixed up. When she forgot a word she would begin to write it on a piece of paper. Again and again and again. She would fill pages of just one word or phrase. The pen would begin to feel hot in her hand, but around her the world would disappear and all she'd be able to focus on was that one word. She would do it for hours, the pages black with smudged ink, her neat handwriting becoming a mess. Her mother or one of her brothers would have to stop her, physically taking the pen away from her shaking hands. She would kick and scream.
Her parents were worried. None of her brothers had ever had that reaction. They took her to countless medical professionals. She had to sit tests. She had to talk to strangers. She didn't mind this too much, although sometimes she found it hard to get the words out, but eventually she was diagnosed.
Amy loved binders.
Amy was a lightweight
Amy was Cuban.
Amy was autistic.
Amy was allergic to dogs.
Amy had anxiety.
They were just the facts of life and Amy understood that. It wasn't like she needed to be open about it- well everyone knew she loved binders and it you didn't exactly have to be a detective to figure out she was a lightweight. She almost never had panic attacks anymore and she was even off her anxiety medication. She was in control.
Until she wasn't.
"I'm okay now," she took a deep breath. It wasn't true, but at least she wasn't rambling anymore. "You can go back in, I'm going to stay out for another few minutes."
"Don't worry." Rosa gave her a smile, so quickly it probably wasn't even there. If Amy asked she'd probably claim Amy had imagined it. "I'll stay too if that's okay," she paused, "Charles is trying to eat some kind of animal testicle and Hitchcock and Scully are being Hitchcock and Scully."
Amy smiled, a real one, and resisted the urge to search for her lighter again.
Today she wasn't okay. But Rosa was by her side and she knew she would be.
So the mangled Spanish is meant to mean don't worry it's okay, or something along those lines.
This Is my first Brooklyn 99 fic. I'm really sorry If it's wildly out of character. If there's any glaring mistakes please tell me- especially with the bit of Spanish. I was 11/12 when I last took Spanish and I failed so bad. I tried to use google translate but that's a pretty big risk to take.
If anyone wants more, I can try to write more in this universe beviase I'd love to try my hand at some Amy/Rosa but yano lol