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Her eyes are stinging. Sight going blurry. It's nothing really. Just a stupid remark from Toby. Nothing she hasn't heard a million times. She doesn't know why it's this one. This time of being sent to get the tea. To be called useless, even if not in that many words.
But suddenly she's blinking, her eyes filling up, pressure building up in her throat as she tries to keep her breathing steady. Trying to keep her voice from breaking as she mumbles an affirmative and flees the room.
It's always like this. Little comment by comment. She hides the way they sting. She's good at it. Every time Rachel sighs because she has to repeat herself, explain something that should be obvious. Every time Ian puts himself between her and danger because of course she can't protect herself. Every time Toby sends her to get tea or forgets to include her in the plan.
Because never mind that she has a doctorate, that she worked hard for this position. No matter the tears and pain it cost her to get here, the fact that she has killed for the ICMG, saved the organisation and the country and the world. Regardless of how this is all she's ever wanted and she'd give everything for it. She's still just Allison Williams.
A silly little girl who can't even get the household right. Who can't cook or clean or be good enough. Who is a know-it-all and far too curious for her own good. Who can never shut up when she's meant to and doesn't know the answer when she should. Who will never ever be as smart as Rachel, no matter how hard she tries. Who should just give up on trying and settle into her fate as the eternal assistant.
That's all she's good for. Carrying things around, handing tubes to Rachel, working through mindless reports no one else has the time to. Just the unimportant tasks. The ones the important people can't lower themselves to do.
And yet, she can't even do that without crying. Without spilling hot water over herself or breaking things and overlooking important details. Always making mistakes, just a stupid girl that doesn't belong here at all. She doesn't know how she ever thought otherwise. How this ever seemed like a good idea, like where she belonged.
Why can't she at least keep a straight face? Accept that this is her lot, that she should stop wanting more, wanting the appreciation and respect everyone else seems to get? Even Rachel manages to gain respect with every cutting word in this world of men who cannot see beyond their own gain.
Having reached the smalll kitchen of the office she takes a few deep breaths. Can't make tea when she can't see from tears in her vision. Should get at least this done. Prove she is still good for something. Even if it isn't her intelligence or research or theories.
While she waits for the water to heat, she wipes furiously at her eyes, the traitorous tears that have spilled out. Hoping that they aren't too red, she swallows against the heavy feeling in her throat. She'd go bring it to Ian first. He'll at least say thank you.