ransomedrogue
a rAnsomed rOgue
tales from blindspot
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hey blindspotters... it’s been awhile! I fell off the writing/fandom wagon for a bit there but then I just checked back in and the rewatch was on 3.20... and I wrote something? It’s a couple of extra scenes (to make the gunshot wound worse than it appeared of course :P). oh and it all came out quick and I didn’t actually watch the episode again so apologies for any inconsistencies.
3.20
Jane ran to Avery as soon as she dropped the weapon, wrapping her arms around her daughter in relief. Watching Avery point the gun at her godmother had been terrifying, especially knowing their shared DNA. Jane was sure that Remi at that age would have fired without remorse, despite the potential consequences.
Avery seemed to be in shock at what had almost happened; what she'd almost done. Her body was stiff in Jane's arms and her breathing started to become frantic so Jane guided her towards the couch, away from the action.
"Here, let's sit down," she said. "You did the right thing, everything's going to be okay."
Avery sat obediently, still shaky as Jane's hand settled between her shoulders.
"Okay great. Now let's breathe together for a bit."
Jane quietly encouraged Avery to inhale deeply before releasing her breath slowly, until a few silent minutes passed and Avery finally spoke.
"I almost killed her," she whispered, sounding almost in awe.
"I'm sorry."
Jane shook her head, fighting back an emotion she couldn't quite identify. It was part pride, part guilt, with a sprinkling of regret. Avery had made the right choice, despite everything she'd been through, all the things a parent should have protected her from.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," Jane replied. "You have every right to be angry, and you still made the right choice. I'm proud of you, and I'm sure your dad would be too."
Avery finally stopped staring blankly at the floor and looked up at Jane, with obvious uncertainty in her eyes.
"I don't know what to believe anymore," she said softly. "Everything's so messed up."
Jane sighed, her heart aching for her daughter. Learning the truth about her own parentage had been hard enough, even without memories of growing up with Shepherd. Avery had thought her family was completely normal until recently, and was still just a kid in so many ways. Of course it was a lot to wrap her mind around, and would involve a lot of mixed emotions.
"I know," Jane replied. "I'm sorry about all of this."
"It's not your fault," Avery said, shaking her head. "You saved my life today."
Of course she had, there hadn't been any other option. It wasn't something she expected her daughter to thank her for though; it was just a given. Avery was her kid, even if she rightfully didn't consider Jane her parent. And no one was going to hurt her kid.
Jane tried to figure out a way to deflect Avery's gratitude but her train of thought was interrupted by Kurt's voice, coming from behind them.
"Yeah, she does that," he commented, placing his hand on Jane's shoulder and squeezing lightly.
Jane looked up over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at him, but her smile belied any annoyance at his statement. Weller was always so proud of her that it was almost over the top. However, considering how broken their relationship had been just recently, it warmed her chest hearing his love for her come through in the tone of his voice.
"Paramedics are here to take you to the hospital," Weller said. "And I'll take Avery to the NYO to get her statement. Reade and Zapata can wrap things up here."
Avery flashed Jane a worried look and a surge of protectiveness washed over her.
"I don't need to go to the hospital, I'll come with you to the NYO," Jane protested. "I can get medical to look at it after Avery's done her statement."
"That tourniquet's been on for two hours now, it needs to be loosened soon," Kurt replied. "Let's go see what the paramedics say first."
"Kurt…"
"No arguing," he said, his voice stern though his thumb continued to rub soothing circles against her skin.
"Yeah. No arguing," Avery added, her tone equally serious.
Jane sighed in defeat, shaking her head as she stood up and let Kurt walk her towards the ambulance.
"Okay, let's get this over with," Jane said, sitting down on the gurney that the EMT pointed her towards.
The paramedic asked all the standard questions about her injury and frowned when she said how long the tourniquet had been on for.
"We need to get you to the hospital and get that off of your arm as soon as possible," he said. "Let's get you strapped onto the gurney and we'll get moving."
Jane immediately got off the stretcher at his words and started to walk away but Weller used his bigger size to press her back into a seated position.
"Kurt, it can wait," she protested.
"No it can't," he retorted. "You know permanent damage can happen if you have that tourniquet on for over two hours."
"Fine, then they can take it off here and bandage it," Jane said. "If that isn't enough to get the bleeding to stop then I'll go to the doctor after you get Avery's statement."
Weller sighed, giving the paramedic an exasperated look.
"Will that work?", he asked.
"We can try," the EMT said. "But it is not what I would recommend."
Jane shot the man a glare and he immediately stopped talking when he saw the daggers in her eyes. Silently, he proceeded to open up his first aid kit and began wrapping a pressure bandage tightly around the wound on Jane's arm.
Jane grunted as the sensation in her arm immediately went from muted ache to pulsing throb. Her eyes closed automatically and she shivered involuntarily as a wave of discomfort shot through her. But then she felt Kurt's hand slip into hers, gripping it firmly as she tried to breathe through the pain.
It took a few moments to gather herself and when Jane opened her eyes again, the bandage was on and the paramedic was beginning to undo the tourniquet. For a second, everything seemed fine after the strap came off. But then, almost immediately, the bandage was soaked in blood and Jane's head began to spin.
"What's happening?!" Avery asked, her voice full of panic.
Jane tried to say something to reassure her daughter but all her thoughts were slipping away with her blood. She could vaguely hear Weller freaking out at the EMT's, demanding to know what was happening. But by the time the answer came, her audio input was becoming spotty, and all she could hear was something about a tear in the artery.
That doesn't sound good, she thought dimly, while everyone began yelling all around her. Then something else was wrapped around her already throbbing arm, again intensifying the pain until darkness swept over her and she slumped forward into Kurt's panicked grip.
###
Normally, Weller would be totally losing his shit.
In the current circumstance, he was still losing his shit, but only internally. At least, Kurt hoped he was maintaining a relatively calm and rational exterior for Avery's sake.
Jane was going to be fine. They had gotten to the hospital in record time, with him leading the ambulance in the FBI SUV, lights blaring all the way. Even though she had regained consciousness almost immediately after passing out in his arms, Weller had driven unreasonably fast, until he realized he was scaring Avery and toned things down a bit.
And now, he was telling himself not to pace as his mind kept going back to the memory of her eyes rolling back as she slumped forward, almost falling off the gurney before he managed to wrap himself around her. Avery kept eyeing him anxiously but Weller had offered all the reassuring words he could muster up in the haze of his own worry.
It felt like an eternity, but in reality the surgeon was out to talk to them barely an hour after Jane had been whisked away into an operating room. She offered Kurt a tired smile as he rushed up to talk to her, clearly seeing his poorly hidden desperation.
"Your wife is fine, Agent Weller," the doctor said. "She was lucky, the bullet was just deep enough to nick the deep brachial artery, but not enough to slice it through. The repair was relatively simple and she should have full function of the arm again shortly. I would still like to keep her overnight for observation, but barring any complications, she should be ready to go home in the morning."
Weller winced internally, recognizing a future battle that both he and the doctor were sure to lose.
"When can we see her?," he asked.
"She's in recovery now and will be in a regular room soon after she's awake," the doctor replied. "I'll make sure someone lets you know as soon as that happens."
Kurt thanked the surgeon and then exhaled a lungful of worry as he turned to face Avery.
"See, I told you she'd be fine," he said.
Avery smirked a little as she shook her head at him.
"You were so freaking out," she replied.
Weller sighed, accepting the obvious fact that he could be irrational when it came to Jane's well-being.
"Yeah, okay. Maybe I was," he admitted. "But I also knew she would be okay. She's been through a lot worse, she's tough as nails. Where do you think you get it from?"
At least that got a grin out of the kid.
"I mean, the same thing basically happened on our first case together and she still came back for more," he continued.
Avery looked confused for a second as she registered his words.
"You mean she got shot on her first day with you?"
"Yup," Weller replied with a grin. "And that was after she beat the crap out of two guys in a knife fight."
Avery grinned, nodding her approval.
"Jane's pretty hardcore," she said.
"She's not going to want to stay overnight, is she?"
Kurt laughed, loosening up for the first time since Jane had passed out that afternoon.
"Nope, she sure isn't."
###
She woke up in a fuzz, with fire blazing in her bicep. Trying to blink away the bleariness, Jane realized she wasn't in the recovery room anymore, even though she didn't remember falling asleep again after waking up post op. But now instead of the recovery room nurse, she was being intently observed by a pair of familiar blue eyes, etched deep with both worry and relief.
"Hey," Kurt breathed, as if full volume might overwhelm her somehow.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," Jane replied, without really thinking about the question. It was what he needed to hear, and how she needed to be.
Weller smiled, a knowing sparkle in his eye as he looked her over intently.
"How's the arm? Do you need painkillers?"
"I'm fine, Kurt," she sighed. She felt blurry enough without more meds, even if her arm was pulsating. Jane didn't want to be on hospital grade drugs, especially with Avery there. She had already felt bad worrying her daughter earlier that day, and felt rather chagrined at having ended up admitted to the hospital for a graze to her arm.
"Did you guys do Avery's statement yet?"
Weller and Avery exchanged a glance before Kurt looked back at Jane.
"No, he was too busy losing it in the waiting room," Avery said, matter of factly. "I mean, he was pretending he wasn't. But it was pretty obvious."
Weller winced visibly and Jane laughed at the mix of mock and real dismay in his expression. Getting called out by a teenager was something they would both have to get used to.
"Kurt, it was a graze," she sighed.
"A graze doesn't take surgery and a bag of blood," Weller replied. "I should have known it was worse than it looked when you told me things weren't great."
"The doctor wants you to stay overnight," he added. "Just for observation."
Jane sighed, steeling herself for a battle.
"Kurt…"
"I know. You're fine, and you don't want to stay," Weller said, flashing Avery another look.
But his tone more bemused than upset, and when he glanced back at Jane, she could see affection glittering in his eyes.
"Will you at least wait for the doctor to come take a look? Then you can tell him you're leaving and we can all go to the NYO after."
It was an easy compromise, especially since she was still a little groggy from the anaesthetic. Jane grinned at her husband, glad to have avoided an argument.
"And then we'll go get my favourite burritos?," Jane added suddenly inspired by a growl in her stomach.
Kurt laughed, nodding in pretend defeat.
"Yes dear, then we'll go get your favourite burritos."
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Okay, now for scene two. This isn’t my usual steeze... but trying to branch out a little with more romance, less angst :P
2.19 - The Bar
All of this. That led me to you, and you to me. And that is something that I would never want to change.
Even with Weller's words still echoing in her mind, Jane refused to think it was possible, until he leaned in so close she could smell the booze on his breath.
They had come so far in their relationship, considering it hadn't been long since he was uncomfortable just being around her. Yet she had been careful not to assume anything, even as they started being friends again. The fact remained that her place in his life was due to circumstance and necessity, not because he wanted her around.
She had messed everything up so thoroughly the first time, right when they had gotten so close. The thought that Weller would give her a second chance had been too much to even consider.
But now there was no doubt about his intentions, even as they were interrupted by Patterson and Zapata, returning with the next round. His wink and sly grin made her cheeks flush as they pulled away from each other and settled back into their seats. Patterson made a quip about finding the answers at the bottom of the round but Jane was suddenly having a hard time focusing on anything other than Kurt's mouth.
It had been an eternity since they'd kissed; she almost couldn't believe what had nearly happened. Except that Weller still had that charming crooked grin pasted on his face and hadn't stopped making furtive eye contact, ever since the near miss. Then, after the next round had been passed around, Jane felt his fingertips searching for hers, under the table. Silently, she hooked his pinky, gripping it tight.
The rest of his fingers followed soon after, slipping in between hers and giving her hand a quick squeeze. Warmth spread up her arm, straight to her spine, and Jane had to pull back on her smile before things became too obvious.
She forced herself to focus on the conversation, and not on the weight of Weller's hand in hers. Patterson had started talking about the Garens and the game they had come up with to pass on their files. She was definitely fan-girling a little over the elaborate planning of the hacker caper, with Zapata interjecting once in awhile to poke fun at how ridiculous all of it was.
"I can't believe they made you guys take a polygraph. Good thing it wasn't me, I always fail."
Jane grinned, even as she cringed a bit too, thinking about the test. She glanced over at Weller, who winked again, offering a knowing look that made her cheeks hot.
"Yeah, what did they even ask?" Patterson asked.
Her heart stopped for a second, realizing where the conversation was headed. Kurt's playful demeanour had also shifted into one of wariness, his eyes meeting hers for a silent congress on how much to say.
While the questions hadn't been explicit, they had definitely been personal. And things were still tenuous between them, so Jane wasn't certain how comfortable Weller would be, revealing his answers to the team. She was sure he'd only been honest in front of her due to the circumstances, and she'd assumed they would never speak of it again.
"It was just basic stuff. Like where did you first meet," Weller replied, too obviously trying to blow off the question.
"Oh come on," Tasha interjected, rolling her eyes.
"There had to be something juicier than that. Give us another one."
"I'm serious," Kurt tried. "It was all like that. They took it from some magazine."
"Jane, fess up," Zapata continued.
"What else did they ask?"
Jane hoped she wasn't blushing, but it was hard not to as she mentally went through the questions and Kurt's responses. Not that the questions had been spicy, but they had touched on truths that wouldn't have otherwise been revealed. Frantically, she searched her mind for another one of the less personal answers.
"There really wasn't anything exciting," Jane tried.
"I mean… they asked why do you choose to work with your partner and why does your partner choose to work with you?"
"And? What did you say?"
Jane sighed internally; apparently was no deterring Zapata's curiosity, no matter how dull they tried to make it all sound.
"Um, I said I work with Weller because he's loyal, honest, and I trust him with my life. And he works with me because he was forced to."
When Tasha didn't reply, Jane thought that was the end of that line of questioning and exhaled a breath of relief. She'd managed a response that didn't involve any of the surprisingly intimate things Kurt had admitted under duress.
But after a moment, both Zapata and Patterson start giggling, and then the amusement passed between them, building up until Tasha snorted with laughter.
"How the hell did that pass?" she spurted.
"That is such BS."
"Seriously Jane, you can't actually believe that," Patterson added.
They both looked so incredulous, but memories of heated arguments cascaded through Jane's mind, along with the words that still wouldn't leave her alone.
"I don't even like being in the same room with her."
She knew it wasn't true anymore, based on the warm weight still grasping onto her hand. Yet it was still hard to believe, even if Weller had tried to refute the same thing just moments ago. And then almost kissed her.
"Forced to work with you," Tasha snickered.
"We were there, Jane. That is not what happened."
Patterson nodded in agreement, and the two women exchanged smirks.
"More like impossible to keep away from you."
Jane couldn't hold back a broad grin, even as she instinctively wanted to deny Tasha's tipsy words. She looked over at Weller, who was doing his best to frown at Zapata but not managing to look stern at all.
"Look. Weller's blushing, that's how not true it is."
The light was dim but Kurt definitely was a bit rosy-cheeked as he turned towards her, and another crooked smile was pushing through. Shrugging at the good-natured ribbing he was taking, he squeezed her hand again.
"See," he said.
"I was never forced to work with you."
###
Getting called out of the bar and back to the office was never a good thing, especially when they were all already a few drinks in. But years of living an on-call life had taught Weller something about sobering up in the moment – he'd figured out that pressing on his adrenaline made him more clear-headed, despite his blood alcohol level. And sitting in the back of a cab, squeezed up against Jane was certainly driving his heart rate up, even more than a possible lead on Sandstorm.
They took off towards the NYO and Weller told himself to focus on the upcoming task. Even though they didn't know exactly what they would be up against, he had to be ready to lead his team. But, with the warmth of Jane's body pressed up on his side, his mind kept drifting back into moments from the day.
That flirty grin she'd worn as they strolled down the street together casually, plus her adorably awkward probing of his emotional status, post breakup. He'd quickly remembered how much he loved her straightforward sensitivity; and that had only been reinforced by her answers during the polygraph.
Flashes of the cheesy relationship questions shot through his mind, along with the most memorable answers. He had been uncomfortable even thinking about the best thing Jane had ever done for him, let alone admitting it in front of her. But that had been somewhat balanced out by hearing Jane's answers too.
I used to put a lot of walls up. She somehow found a way to get inside them.
He'd never even admitted it to himself before, yet he'd immediately known what the answer was.
I work with him because he's honest, loyal, and I trust him with my life.
It seemed impossible that they had gotten back there, considering how angry and broken things had been after she'd returned. The weight of her wedged up against him, so familiar even after all that space between them.
Weller glanced down at Jane surreptitiously, but the way her head was angled, she caught his eyes easily and flashed him a conspiratorial half-wink. Desire flooded through him, especially when she followed up with a deliberate nudge to his hip.
The urge to throw caution to the wind and wrap his arm around her was fuelled by both arousal and alcohol. But he wasn't drunk enough to give into the impulse, especially with Tasha and Patterson there to witness it all.
Kurt kept his twitchy hand balled up in fist, pressed up hard against his own thigh. Thoughts kept flying about in his head, telling him to focus his energy on the mission ahead, and not on rekindling his romance with Jane.
The moment kept running through his mind though; leaning in closer, her lips so close he could almost taste the bourbon on them. It had been ephemeral, and lost once the others returned. Even if they had sat a bit too close for the rest of the night, right up to that very moment.
With impeccable timing, he felt Jane's fingertips tiptoeing onto his thigh before finding his hand and curling hers over it, pealing his fingers open enough to slide hers in between. Then, while deliberately looking away from him, she picked his hand up and slid it over, until it was touching her inner thigh.
Heat was hammering through his body, shooting from his arm to his spine. His thumb started stroking the inseam of her jeans and it seemed impossible that just touching her through her clothes could set his every nerve cell on fire.
When he had finally gained enough control to sneak a peak at her, Weller saw that Jane had her head turned away slightly, and was doing her best to feign innocence. Yet she was wearing a familiar sly grin, which only turned him on even more.
Instinctively, his hand began to move its way up her leg, his fingers crawling their way up until there was nowhere left to go. Then, for a moment, his whisky confidence wavered and he wondered if he'd pushed things too far.
As if sensing his question, Jane pressed her hand over his again, holding it in place against her groin. Weller almost shuddered audibly from the intimacy of the feeling, and he forced himself to exhale slowly, even though his heart was thundering in his chest.
He was dangerously aroused, to the point where his pants were beginning to feel constricted. But the idea of letting go and sliding away from Jane never crossed his mind. Even if he was playing with fire, it felt far too good to stop.
Thankfully, the cab arrived at the NYO before the situation got completely out of hand. Weller was forced back into reality as soon as the vehicle pulled to a halt; allowing himself just one more squeeze before briskly exiting the car.
By the time everyone was out and the ride was paid for, Weller's heart rate had finally come back down, along with the bulge in his jeans. Still, as they walked into the building, Jane brushed up against him deliberately, and hot blood flared through his body once more.
Kurt shuddered, then did his best to exhale his excess emotion as they got in the elevator. He could see that Jane was wearing just the smallest hint of a grin and he forced his eyes forward, willing his inebriated mind to ignore the effect it had on him.
Sucking in another deep breath, Weller then forced himself to push it out slowly. It was going to be a long day; he could feel it already.
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So... back to the catch up game. I wrote a couple scenes for 2.19, then wasn’t sure about them so I procrastinated on editing and posting. But, then I decided there’s no such thing as too much fic for this ep, so at least it’s something new to read :P
This is the first scene - cause I think we can all agree that Kurt needed to answer more questions.
2.19 - The Polygraph
"I was terrified."
Her answer surprised him, but in hindsight, it should have been obvious. She had almost been shaking in the interrogation room – memory-less and completely alone. At the mercy of law enforcement, without knowing anything about the people charged with her care. But at the time, Weller had been far too focused on what it meant that his name was tattooed on her back. Even then the seed planted by Shepherd had been taking root, stirring up old memories and tugging on his eternal hope. Now though, he could see it from Jane's perspective, and it broke his heart a little bit.
She had been through so much, from the first minute they met, right up to that very moment. Even if it had involved lying to him and had led to Mayfair's death; the pain of that betrayal had finally faded enough for Kurt to realize how hard it must have been on Jane. And hearing her admit to being so afraid when they met just reminded him of all the ways he hadn't seen her struggles, despite his best efforts.
His head was still in the past when it became his turn and Weller had to force his attention back on the game. Having taken so many lie detector tests through his career, he hadn't been nervous until the polygraph had begun. But then, realizing that the subject of this test was quite different than his official FBI sessions had set a few butterflies loose inside him. Answering personal questions about his relationship with Jane was not something he'd ever been comfortable with; and now, after everything they'd been through, he had to be truthful, right to her face.
"What is your partner's best trait?"
Weller relaxed once the question was read aloud, answers already bouncing around in his head. It was a gimme, too easy in some respects. He knew what his reply would be almost instantly, but all of the other things he loved about her also wouldn't stop flashing through his mind.
She's smart. She's brave. She's gorgeous. She's deadly.
All of those replies would probably have passed. But the real truth was simpler than any of that.
"Her heart."
Jane's eyes snapped up to meet his, a tiny grin tugging on the corner of her mouth. And, despite the stakes of the game they were playing, that disbelieving smile was a bigger reward than hearing the sound that indicated another passing answer.
Weller exhaled with relief at having dealt with his first question. He was still annoyed at having to participate in the hacker scheme, but getting to hear what was going on in Jane's head was nearly worth it. Even if he was forced to tell his truths too, that was somehow okay – because it was Jane. She made him want to open up, despite how unnatural it was for him.
When the next question was read, Kurt was still lost in how it had felt to tell Jane what he loved the most about her – even if that wasn't exactly how the question had been put. But then he heard what Jane was being asked next and his anxiety immediately returned.
"If you could change one thing about your partner, what would it be?"
He was instantly nervous to hear the answer but also a bit desperate to as well. What would Jane want to change about him? There were so many ways she could destroy him in that very moment. He didn't know if she had any inkling of that at all.
The serious expression Jane was wearing while considering her answer didn't exactly settle his concern. Kurt wondered about the possibilities running through her mind, while forcing himself to breathe.
"If I could change one thing…"
Jane paused, giving him an uncertain look before continuing.
"He wouldn't have been hurt by the people he loved."
Weller was mentally stunned for a moment, so sure that she would say something about him being too stubborn. The answer was so Jane though. All heart, just like he'd said.
A pang of adoration coursed through him, briefly seizing him in it before spitting him out, emotionally raw. Kurt wondered what the polygraph was reading from him at the moment – if it could read love better than it could read lies.
Because that was one truth he couldn't hide from himself anymore.
###
It wasn't exactly what the question had meant, but by then Jane had figured out that it only really mattered if the answer was true. Which hers was.
She didn't want to change anything about Weller. No matter if he was stubborn as hell and had hurt her deeply, only recently accepting her back into his life. But she often wished that so many awful things hadn't happened to him, even when one of those things was completely her doing.
Watching Kurt now though, Jane wondered if she'd made the right choice. He was sitting very still, as if taken aback by her answer - which made her think she should have said something less personal.
She was still doubting herself when Weller was asked the next question; and then when Jane heard what was asked, a fresh wave of worry passed through her.
"Name one thing you're afraid to tell your partner."
She wasn't sure she wanted to know anything Weller was scared to tell her; not since that fateful night, so many months ago now. He'd left her a message that day, dancing around the words he had been afraid to say back then, the ones she'd only dreamt of hearing. But whatever he was afraid to tell her now, Jane was pretty sure it wouldn't be something she was eager to know. She had caused him so much hurt; it was easy to imagine he still held onto some of that blame. But hearing him confirm that he could never forgive her would still crush her.
Forcing herself to take long deep breaths in through her nose, Jane focused on each inhale and exhale instead of watching Weller frown at the question, his eyes flitting a bit nervously as he searched for an answer.
Finally, his gaze settled on his feet and he muttered his reply.
"I'm sorry…" he started, his voice low and full of gravel.
"For not letting you explain. And for letting them hurt you."
Jane's head shot up, her heart suddenly thundering in her chest.
Just like that he had sliced an old wound open, yet managed to start healing it at the same time. Neither of them had ever acknowledged what happened that night, and Jane had just assumed it was just another buried piece of their complicated past. She remembered pleading with him, begging him to hear her out. But he had been completely shut down emotionally, behind an impenetrable wall.
Jane was surprised how hard his apology had hit. She'd thought that was all behind her, especially now that they had mostly re-established the trust between them. But her physiological reaction had been obvious; and she really did feel a sense of healing from hearing his words.
Weller was still staring at his feet as his answer registered as true, and Jane felt a smile tugging at her cheek. His discomfort was a bit endearing, especially because he could have given many different answers to the question. He'd chosen to bare himself to her, which wasn't like Kurt at all.
"Next question. Have you ever lied to your partner and was it about something important?"
Well, that was an easy one, Jane thought with a mental eye roll. Hopefully there weren't many questions left – though, irritating as it was to have to participate in the game, there were some perks as well. It wasn't often she got to see this side of Kurt, and she wondered what else he might be encouraged to reveal.
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so.... what happened on that elevator ride? (spoiler - nothing smutty haha) anyhow, here are a couple extra scenes for 2.17... incredibly only a few days late this time :P
2.17
"Jane, come with me please."
Jane looked up, wondering what was happening. She hadn't seen Weller since getting back to the NYO. First because he'd been on the helicopter, returning from Vermont, and then because she was being debriefed. She'd looked around for him after that but hadn't seen him anywhere. Which had been a bit disappointing - she had been looking forward to seeing him, especially after what had happened with Oliver.
Not that she had anything particular to say to Weller, it just felt important to check in with him after such a close call. But however she'd pictured the moment, it hadn't involved Kurt being so cryptic and serious as he led her to the elevator.
Weller didn't elaborate further on where they were going, even after they stepped into the elevator and he pressed the button for their destination. Standing next to him, Jane could feel how taut he was as his gaze focused in on her. It started to make her feel nervous, especially since they seemed to be headed to the zero division cell.
Had Roman done something while she'd been held captive?
Was Kurt just giving her a chance to say goodbye before he was sent off to a black site?
It would explain why he looked uncomfortable, like he didn't know what to say.
Jane gulped back the panic that arose with that thought and looked up at Weller. He still appeared a little grim and conflicted, which didn't help with the anxiety stirring in her mind.
Even though Kurt had been doing his best for Roman up until that point, she knew his power was limited. If Pellington had ordered him to send her brother to the CIA, there wasn't anything Weller could do except follow through on his threat to resign. Which she didn't want either; she couldn't imagine going on with the mission without him.
Her stomach began to flutter when Weller didn't say anything, giving her a long once-over instead. Jane was about to ask what was going on but felt the question get stuck in her throat as his stony blue eyes paused over the visible bruising on her face.
After the day she'd just had, the last thing she needed was more drama or bad news. Still, it would be nice to get a warning, if she was about to lose her brother.
"Is there something going on with Roman?"
Her voice was hesitant, like she was scared of the answer. But Weller's stern expression turned soft at her question, his lip twitching into a subtle crooked smile.
"Don't worry, he's fine. You'll see for yourself in a minute."
Jane exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her anxiety settling with Kurt's reassurance. She was sure he wouldn't lie to her about something like that.
"Are you okay? It looks like you took some hits," he added, his features now shifting into a small frown.
"Did you get checked out by medical?"
Jane smiled to herself, even as she tried to resist the way his concern made her cheeks flush. Outwardly, she managed to keep her features stoic, feigning annoyance as she replied with a sigh.
"Yes, I got cleared when we got back. It's just some scrapes and bruises."
Weller visibly relaxed, but his gaze remained stuck to her.
"What happened out there?" he asked.
"I read the report but I want to hear it from you."
Jane told him the story, trying to keep it short but Weller kept interjecting to ask for more details. He seemed particularly focused on what Oliver had done; or, more accurately, on everything he hadn't done.
"So he got you kidnapped and then withheld information from you?" he asked.
"Yeah, but he ended up getting us out of there," Jane replied, awkwardly feeling the need to defend Oliver even though he hadn't been much help throughout the day. And had then dumped her after she'd gotten them through the situation.
"If he hadn't offered the foundation's money…"
"If you hadn't given us the clue about where they were headed, they would have killed him as soon as the money was transferred."
She had known that was the likely outcome; it was why she'd been so desperate to get out of the van. Even though she would have probably been too late, Jane had hoped Oliver would have had the sense to delay as long as possible.
Thankfully, the FBI had gotten there in time to find him before the transfer was completed, while Oliver had been wrestling with the gunman. Letting Oliver get killed would have haunted her, even if the situation had been his fault, and he'd broken up with her afterwards.
"You did good out there," Weller said.
"You saved him, and those kids."
Jane tensed a little; she'd always felt a bit uneasy accepting praise. In her mind, it had been her duty - Oliver was a civilian and he'd been her charge, hers to protect. Yet somehow, Kurt's compliment made the ensuing breakup sting a little less.
She reflected on Zapata's words, and on how Weller still saw the best of her, despite everything they'd been through. It made her suspiciously warm inside, and she tried to smother the feeling with a dose of reality.
"I just did what I had to do," she muttered.
Weller clearly disagreed with her take, his expression sitting somewhere between amused and exasperated.
"It was a bad situation. Roman was pretty worried about you."
"I was too," he added, after a pause.
Another flash of warmth washed over her as Jane flicked her gaze up to meet Kurt's. She'd nearly forgotten what it was like to have people care about her. For so long, it had felt like she was just an asset to both sides, only worth what she could bring to the group. Lately though, things had really started to shift.
She remembered how Weller had lost his temper and irrationally refused to work with Cade, all because the former Sandstorm operative had tried to kill her once. Plus, how supportive he'd been about her brother, even though wiping Roman's memory had just added a plethora of problems to his life. Not to mention the way it had felt when he'd shyly declared one of his favourite things about her.
"I was fine," she protested, feeling the need to deflect his concern. As good as it felt, the memory of being completely alone was far too close. She needed to stay self-sufficient, she'd already learned how quickly things could change for her, with the FBI.
As if he was reading her mind, Weller shook his head a little.
"I knew you'd be okay," he said.
"It just reminded me too much of…"
He paused, a dark emotion fluttering through his eyes, before continuing.
"Not knowing where you were. Knowing you were out there with no one watching your back."
Of course she'd felt it too, the aloneness of the double agent life she'd led for so long. Especially being out there with Oliver, someone she couldn't count on. But at least she'd known that the team would be working hard looking for her; not too long ago, that was something she hadn't been entirely sure about.
"Sorry, I know it's selfish, when you were the one out there on your own. But I hated it."
A flash of insight shot through her, realizing that he'd been worried from the start; despite the anger and distrust between them. Back then she'd only felt the coldness, and thought it meant he didn't care. But in hindsight, she was starting to see that Kurt had built that barrier to protect himself from his strongly conflicted emotions.
"I'm just glad you're okay," he continued.
"Oliver too."
The last bit was grumbled, and obviously an afterthought. Jane grinned to herself, realizing Weller's low opinion of her date matched her own. She could have possibly gotten over Oliver's omission of information and lack of tactical ability, but she was already glad to be done with him if her actions that day had scared him off. Especially with the way Kurt was standing too close, and looking at her intently.
"Yeah. Me too," she replied.
"Even if he broke up with me after all that."
She hadn't exactly planned on dropping that fact, but the look on Weller's face immediately made it worth it. He was nakedly bewildered and offended for her, staring at her as he took in what she'd said.
"I think I scared him," she added, when Weller still didn't say anything.
Kurt's lip tugged into a satisfied smirk, his expression pleased, even a bit smug.
"That guy's an idiot, Jane," he declared.
"You deserve someone who loves all of you."
The way he was looking at her, Jane was sure, for just one second, that he was trying to tell her something. But then the elevator dinged its arrival and she fell back to reality, realizing she was probably making it all up in her head.
He was just being kind, saying something nice after she'd been dumped. Nothing else about his actions indicated anything other than friendship between them.
Jane took a deep breath, following Weller towards Roman's cell. She was still a little nervous about what lay ahead. But she also felt reassured, just being with Kurt. Whatever was about to happen, she trusted him to have her back.
###
About two minutes after he was served the subpoena, Weller's phone predictably blew up. Patterson was the first to call, but texts and calls were flying in from Zapata too.
He did his best to reassure Patterson, telling her they would meet early the next day to talk about it. Then he did the same with Tasha, telling her to get some sleep and come prepared to deal with it in the morning. There really wasn't anything else they could do at the moment; not when they didn't know the specifics of the investigation.
Once Weller was done with the calls, his own mind was still a jumble of questions and emotions. Anger and anxiety were both there in equal parts as he stood there only half-listening while Nas made degrading comments about Matthew Weitz.
"Look, I'll see you in the morning," she said, finishing her tirade.
"Try to take your own advice and get some rest. You're going to need it."
Weller nodded as Nas walked off, knowing that he wasn't likely to sleep much at all. Even if nothing could be solved that night, his mind would be full of questions and possibilities.
He was about to put his phone away when he realized Jane hadn't tried to contact him. It was very unlikely she hadn't received a subpoena yet, especially because she'd just taken Roman to the safe house with her for the first time. She would have been easy to find and serve with the papers, so why hadn't she called to ask about it?
Weller dialled Jane's number, barely realizing that he was holding his breath as it rang twice before she answered.
"Hi," she said, sounding unsure.
"Uh, is something going on? I just got a subpoena."
"Yeah, we all did," Weller replied.
"Don't worry, it's just a BS political move by that asshole Weitz," he added.
"We're meeting in the morning to talk about it."
Jane paused, and he could almost hear her anxiety through the phone. Again, he wondered why she hadn't called as soon as she'd received the summons.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know everyone got one," she said.
"This must be my fault. I was the one working for Sandstorm."
Weller froze, realization dawning over him. She'd been thinking she was alone in it; that it was all on her. With Roman there too, a physical reminder of what she was trying to protect.
No wonder she hadn't called right away. She'd probably been prepping herself for the worst before possibly confirming her fears.
"No, this is not about you," Kurt replied. "It's just a power play by Weitz to look good in front of Congress."
"So don't worry about it for now. We'll deal with it tomorrow."
Jane exhaled audibly, taking a beat too long before answering.
"Okay," she muttered. "Thanks for calling. See you in the morning."
She hung up immediately after, not even giving him a chance to reply. Which was weird, but she obviously had a lot on her mind. Not to mention, it was her first night at the safe house with Roman.
Still, Kurt couldn't help ruminating on how guilty Jane always felt, whenever things went wrong. Especially when she'd done the best she could, in an impossible situation. It was heartbreaking that she still felt like she had to face everything on her own.
Weller tried to shake off that thought as he walked to his vehicle and started driving home. He reminded himself that there was nothing they could do about it until the next day, and that he'd be more mentally prepared to deal with everything if he didn't stress about it all night. But he couldn't stop thinking about the way Jane had ended the call, and why she hadn't called him after getting the subpoena.
Frustrated with himself, the situation, and everything in between, Kurt drove past his usual turn and kept going until he was at the safe house. He parked behind Roman's detail, then sat there for a moment, deciding what to do.
Everything looked fine; there was no reason for him to be there. Still, Weller got out of the car and walked up to the door, wondering all the while what he was going to say.
Jane answered the door with a confused look.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, sounding a little on edge.
"No, everything's okay," Weller replied quickly, hoping to calm her. But then he couldn't come up with any words to explain his presence at her door and felt the moment getting awkward before he stammered out a question.
"Um… do you want to walk?"
Jane was clearly surprised but her lip twitched upwards.
"Uh, yeah," she said.
"Just let me tell Roman and grab a coat."
Jane stepped away from the door, giving him a minute to come up with a reason to be there. But he still hadn't thought of anything to say by the time she was back, except that he'd spent the entire day worried about her and had felt the urge to check in. Which was far too emotionally honest for him to express, so instead he just didn't say anything at all.
They started walking, with Jane looking over at him, obviously waiting for him to explain why he'd abruptly shown up at her door. But now that he was there with her, Kurt was completely jammed up, reliving all of his emotions from that day.
Finding out she'd been taken, then worrying about her getting executed by the kidnappers. No matter how capable he knew her to be, the thought of her being alone in that situation had clawed into him.
Then there had been the pure relief from hearing that she'd been found alive, and whatever that feeling was that had stopped his heart when she thanked him for getting Roman out. The way she had looked at him, in elated disbelief and bursting with gratitude. It had taken all his self-control to keep things professional in the moment and pretend he'd done it solely for Roman's well-being.
All of that flooded through him in an instant, reminding him of how much she made him feel on a daily basis. It was impossible to deny, despite how hard he'd been trying.
"So, what's up?" Jane asked, after giving him ample time to say something.
She sounded apprehensive, as if waiting for him to drop a bomb on her.
"Is this about the subpoena? If it's something I did, I want to know. I need to be prepared."
Weller wished he could give her a real answer but he had no idea what Weitz had in mind. It was all ridiculous as far as he was concerned, but of course Jane felt less secure due to her position. She didn't know that he would protect her, no matter the cost. And he wasn't sure how to say so, without guaranteeing too much.
"No, I don't know anything more about that. We'll just have to see what happens tomorrow," he replied.
"But none of this is going to fall on you. I'm the one leading this operation."
Jane gave him a skeptical look, but she didn't argue.
"So why are you here then?"
He still didn't quite have an answer, but Weller did the best he could.
"You sounded rattled on the phone," he said, finally deciding that a version of the truth was the easiest option.
"I wanted to check you were okay."
It sounded stupid when he said it out loud, but Jane's demeanour immediately shifted, her shoulders softening as she replied.
"I'm fine, it's just been a long day," she said.
"I still can't believe you let Roman out. I don't think I can ever thank you enough."
Weller shook his head at her gratitude, trying to dismiss it even as it set his heart on fire.
"It was the right thing to do. It wasn't good for him to be in there, you helped me see that. And he wants to be a different person, just the same as you. We need to give him the chance."
The green in Jane's eyes was glimmering with gold, and he resisted the urge to pull her close. The desire to kiss her was nearly overwhelming, so Kurt wrestled his gaze back down to his shoes. He'd gone there to check on her mental well-being, not add to her emotional load.
"You've given me so many chances. I just don't want to mess it all up."
It punched him in the gut, whenever Jane offered a glimpse of her vulnerability. She'd already been through so much; including all the animosity he'd dumped on her while she was in a physically and mentally precarious position.
"Jane. We've all made mistakes. But you've risked everything to help us take down Sandstorm. No matter how it all turns out, I know you've done your best for the team, and for Roman."
A ghost of a smile twitched at her lips, and again Weller forced himself to stop fixating on her mouth.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he promised.
"No matter what I have to do."
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last one of my post-hiatus fic dump and I’m putting my faves together - lots of H/C and a splash of UST. Plus... an extra post-sleepover POV switch :P
2.13
By the time he got free of the rope, Weller was a steaming mix of soreness, sweat, guilt and anger. His head was pounding too, and he felt both hollow and nauseous.
Watching a man die was always an emotional shock, even after so many years in his line of work. Especially seeing someone be killed in cold blood, by the criminal he was hunting. It made him feel both conflicted about being left alive, and guilty about getting the old man killed.
Storming out of the extended care facility, Weller stewed in his questions. Despite getting a chair slammed into his head and losing consciousness for awhile, he clearly remembered the rest of the evening with Sean Clark.
What was the Truman protocol? And what did Shepherd want from him?
Kurt shuddered, remembering the way she'd touched him, and insisting that they were alike. Even though he knew it wasn't true, the insinuation still hurt, especially after what he'd found out that day about Shepherd paying for his scholarships. She had obviously seen something in him way back then, enough to invest in his life. He wanted to believe it was all just in her head, part of her psychopathic terrorist delusions. Yet it had triggered a flood of self doubt, making him wonder if he was only in his position because of her intervention.
Normally, Weller would go home and stew by himself; drinking scotch until he fell asleep from a mix of exhaustion and alcohol. But the thought of being alone with what had happened made him uncomfortable and Kurt knew he needed to tell someone right away.
If it had happened just a couple days ago, the obvious person would have been Nas. Even now, after she'd broken off their relationship, it made the most sense to go to her with what had just happened. She was the NSA insider and their expert on Sandstorm, not to mention his co-lead. But he didn't call her, or anyone else. Instead, Weller drove back to the city, despite the throbbing in his head and the slight blur in his vision.
When he ended up in front of the safe house, he was only the slightest bit surprised. Weller had spent the entire ride ruminating about what had happened, stirring in a volatile mixture of shame and guilt. So he hadn't quite consciously decided on where he was going, and yet, there was no doubt in it either. He needed to talk to someone and, somehow she was again becoming the person he wanted to tell, when things happened to him.
He sat across from her place for a long time, trying to ascertain if she was still awake. It was late, past two am, and the thought of waking her made him hesitate. Then it was followed by a flash of anxiety flooding through him, making him question what the hell he was doing there at all.
Weller's hand reached for the ignition, with full intent to turn the engine on and drive away. And yet, he found himself pulling the keys out, both his heart and his head pounding as he strode up to her door.
He knocked before the questions returned and she was there nearly instantly, despite the hour. The wavy rumple of her hair, plus her eye-catching tank top and boxer shorts pyjama combo, suggested she had been in bed though.
Kurt was goggling at her, wondering if she always came to the door late at night without getting dressed at all. Not that it was any of his business, except it was making it difficult for him to form any words.
Thankfully, Jane took one look at him and didn't wait for him to explain why he was there. Reaching for his forehead, she frowned in dismay.
"Your head," she said. "What happened?"
It was at the tip of his tongue, all of it. But the throbbing in his brain and the hammering of his heart was interfering with his ability to put words together, especially now that all the adrenaline had coursed out of his body.
"I'm okay," he grunted instead, as Jane stepped towards him, reaching out to touch the cut on his forehead.
He wasn't though. And even though it made him feel pathetic and immoral, he wanted her to see through his words.
The look she gave him was equal parts disbelief and concern, with just a hint of amusement. Running her thumb lightly over his bloody temple, she then studied his eyes carefully before letting her hand drop down, reaching lightly at his fingertips.
"Come in," she said, with a little tug.
She led him in and sat him down on the couch, then pulled the coffee table over so she could sit across from him. Weller felt pinned down by her gaze, and he wondered what she saw.
"That looks pretty bad," she murmured, reaching out to touch the oozing wound on his head.
"What happened?"
The throbbing had become so incessant that Weller was having a hard time keeping his thoughts straight. And it was no longer just coming from his head – his ribs had seemingly taken another beating too, just after he'd nearly broken them during the last mission.
Kurt groaned, thinking about falling to the floor unconscious and then getting wrangled into a chair by a goon. It should have been no surprise that it now hurt just to breathe deeply, but he'd been so caught up in his anger that he'd attributed the pain in his chest to emotional distress. Now though, it was becoming clear that he'd taken some hits after being knocked out.
"Sean Clark is dead," he managed, getting the worst of it out first.
"Shepherd killed him because we found him."
Jane's eyes grew big, staring at him in confusion.
"Shepherd did this to you?"
Weller nodded, looking down at his feet.
"It was my fault. I shouldn't have gone there again."
"No," Jane replied firmly. "All of this is on Shepherd."
"But…"
The what ifs kept running through his head.
What if I hadn't gone back?
What if I'd never met Shepherd?
What if she hadn't intervened in my life?
"No buts. This is not your fault, Kurt."
Weller nodded. Not because he believed her, but because he wanted to. Jane took his hand in hers, gripping it tight. She was frowning, and all of a sudden he had a flash of insight.
It was the middle of the night and he'd shown up at her door, hurt and needy. After he'd watched her suffer on her own, ostracized by all of them. How many times had she been hurt and needing someone those past months? She'd never shown up at his place, asking him to put aside his feelings and help her.
Suddenly he felt like a total jerk, completely awash in shame. If he wanted to wallow in his hurt, he should be doing it alone.
"I should go," Weller said, pushing to his feet.
But even before he was standing, her hand was at his shoulder, lightly pushing him back down to the couch. And of course he didn't fight it; not when it was exactly what he had hoped for.
###
She'd only begun to digest the fact that Weller had met Shepherd that night, and that he'd been at her mercy when she murdered a man. No wonder he'd looked so lost when she answered the door. Jane shuddered, thinking about what he'd just been through and how guilty he must feel.
"No buts," she said. "This is not your fault, Kurt."
Weller was usually so stoic, so solidly put together. But lately she'd glimpsed his vulnerable side, and now it was in full view. Which wasn't surprising, of course. Finding out about Shepherd's role in his life, how she'd been paying for his scholarships; then watching her kill a man so coldly, being unable to stop it. It was like a worst case scenario for him, emotionally.
Jane was just thinking how thankful she was that he'd come seeking help, instead of trying to deal with it all on his own, when Weller abruptly tried to stand up.
"I should go," he said, like she would let him leave while still bleeding and broken.
Jane reached out and gently pushed him back down to the couch, leaving her hand on his shoulder to ensure he stayed put.
"You're not going anywhere," she said, semi-sternly.
She half expected him to argue about it, but Weller just flashed her a conflicted look as he gave in and settled back onto the couch. In it, Jane saw a potent mix of guilt, anger, and fear that made her heart clench with empathy.
Nobody else had ever made her feel so deeply. And for a moment, the intensity of being with Weller stood out sharply against the backdrop of the rest of the evening.
It had been surprisingly fun to go out with Oliver. Mostly Jane was pleased to have survived one entire 'normal' date with a regular person and glad she had taken Roman's advice to do something that she chose. She had even accepted an invitation for another date; if only to take her mind off the case for a night, as well as get some more experience at normal life.
Not that she didn't like Oliver. He was intelligent and attractive, easy enough to talk to and get along with too. But what she felt about Weller was a completely different animal. Especially at that moment, with him injured and vulnerable, baring his soul to her in the middle of the night.
Then there had been the incident earlier in the day, when he had stood in front of that speeding vehicle. Her heart had been in her throat, every nerve in her body itching to launch herself out of the vehicle at him. She couldn't imagine ever feeling that strongly about Oliver, even in a life or death situation. Paradoxically, watching Weller nearly get run over was what had made her follow through with going on the date. All that pent up emotion - she had needed to let it out. And even though she was friends again with Kurt, it seemed like they would never go beyond that.
But now, like every time they were alone together, she wondered if that was true. He had come to her, after all. And now he was still there, despite everything that had kept them apart.
He was hurting. Of course she wasn't going to let him leave. Especially not while he was bleeding and likely concussed.
Once she was sure he wasn't going to get up again, Jane's hand drifted upwards from his shoulder, sliding up his neck until her thumb was physically examining the cut on his temple.
"What happened?" she asked.
Weller gave her a sheepish look.
"Uh. I think I got hit with a chair."
"Did you get knocked out?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "They tied me to the chair while I was out."
Looking at him closely, Jane realized how gingerly he was sitting, and how shallow his breaths were. Picturing the situation, she guessed that he had probably fallen on the bruised ribs he'd just sustained the day before, injuring them even further.
"Your ribs look sore," she commented.
Weller frowned, and she could see him trying to breathe more casually. She wondered if he was actually in denial about his injuries, or if he was just pretending for her benefit.
Either way, there wasn't much she would be able to do if he'd broken his ribs. But Jane noted that he didn't disagree with her statement, and she made a mental note to check on that after she'd cleaned him up.
"Sit tight, I'll be right back," she said, giving him a stern look.
By the time she'd returned with first aid supplies, Weller was slumped into the couch, eyes closed and his teeth gritted in pain as he hugged himself tight.
"Hey," Jane said, the one word dripping with concern.
She put the supplies down in a hurry and reached to shake him on the shoulder, but by that time his eyelids had slid open.
"Are you okay? Do I need to take you to the doctor?"
Weller shook his head.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
"Really? It looks like you took a bad hit."
Kurt sighed, then grunted as he tried to sit up straighter.
"I might have hit the deck pretty hard," he mumbled.
She wasn't surprised about what had happened, but she hadn't expected him to admit to it.
"You need to get checked out."
"It's not that bad."
Jane shook her head at his stubbornness, and decided it wasn't worth it to fight him on it. If he was seriously injured, she would deal with that later.
"Will you at least let me get the blood off of you?" she asked.
When Weller didn't object, Jane smiled a little and got to work wiping the semi-dried blood off his forehead. While she cleaned up the cut and applied antiseptic, his eyelids drifted down again, but this time he seemed more relaxed, less in pain.
After wiping his skin dry, Jane closed the gash with steri-strips, then smoothed it over carefully before sitting back to inspect her work. Weller opened his eyes as she was caressing his brow, and she was met with an intensity of blue that sent shudder through her spine.
"How's your head?" she asked, in an attempt to refocus her mind.
Kurt continued to gaze at her intently as he considered her question, then blinked a few times before finally answering.
"It's good now," he sputtered.
"Thanks for cleaning me up. I'm sorry for showing up so late. I really should go."
He tried to get up again, but struggled to push himself upright, wincing at the movement. As he inhaled in advance of another attempt, Jane wondered if he'd let her leave, concussed and in pain. Quickly, she came to the conclusion that he would have already forced her to see a doctor. Even when things had been at their worst, he'd remained a little overprotective.
"It's late and you have a concussion. You shouldn't be driving anywhere."
Weller frowned.
"I'll be fine," he grumbled.
"Yeah. And how do you think I'd feel if you got into an accident on the way home?"
For a split second he looked angry and she expected him to storm out. But then his expression turned into a mix of exhaustion and despair.
"Really bad," he said.
"You'd feel like this."
She sometimes forgot he was so heartbreaking; but lately she was remembering more and more. Jane offered him a sad empathetic smile, then reached out and took his hand in hers.
"Come on," she said.
"Let's get you some sleep."
This time Weller didn't argue as she pulled him off the couch; was surprisingly docile as she led him to the extra room. If she wasn't so worried about both his mental and physical state, the thought of having him stay over would have been full of nervous anticipation. But, as it was, Jane was just glad to know he was safe.
"Goodnight," she said, after seeing him into the room.
Weller still looked a little displeased at the situation, but he managed a sheepish crooked grin.
"Thanks for dealing with me. I'm sorry for showing up like this."
She didn't tell him it wasn't necessary to thank her, that she would always be there for him. It felt like too much, considering they were just getting comfortable with each other again.
But, in her heart, Jane hoped that it would always be like that, that he would always come to her. And even as she left the room, her mind lingered there, wondering if Kurt could possibly feel the same.
###
Weller woke up to a thundering headache and complete confusion as to where he was. For an instant before he was awake, he panicked, thinking he was tied to a chair again. But then he realized he was comfortably dozing under a heavy duvet, and memories of the previous night came flooding back.
He had slept over at Jane's, in the most innocent sense of the word. But at the moment, realizing that it was Jane he could hear in the shower, his presence there felt illicit and conflicting.
For a brief second, still somewhere between conscious states, his imagination fired up; resulting in a problem he hadn't experienced in some time. Thankfully though, as soon as Weller tried to get up and deal with the issue, the pain that shot through his body quickly resolved the situation.
Briefly, he assessed his injuries, groaning as he attempted a few deep breaths. His ribs had taken a beating, along with his head. But, thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken, and his only concussion symptom was a pounding head. Which was pretty lucky, considering he'd been at Shepherd's mercy.
Weller growled internally, hating that his place in her plan had saved him yet again. Combined with his new knowledge that she'd also paid for his education, it made him feel like his life's course had been controlled by a madwoman.
He was falling into the same anxiety cycle he'd been in the day before, this time made worse by the physical limitations of his breathing. Frustrated with himself in every way, Kurt pushed himself into a seated position, his legs hanging off the bed. He needed to get to work and make some progress on the situation or he was going to lose his mind. But then he heard the shower turn off and Weller froze, unable to resist the picture that shot into his mind.
Footsteps passed by his room along with a fresh herbal scent. The smell made his chest flutter, especially when Jane stalled at his cracked door. He pictured her there, in just a towel listening at the door and kept himself glued to the bed, in fear of doing anything impulsive.
His desire to leave was instantly quashed though; the twin aromas of brewing coffee and Jane's bath products paralyzing him with false intimacy. Listening in on her morning routine made him feel like a voyeur, especially considering his body's reactions. But it also made him wonder if it could ever be, if he could ever in her life that way.
He'd been resisting the thought for so long, doing everything he could to stay far from that possibility. Pushing her away with his anger, holding onto his sense of betrayal as best he could. Even letting his fling with Nas go on for far too long, so he was otherwise occupied. But, sitting there in that bed, listening to Jane's footsteps returning, there was no more avoiding it.
Weller took a deep breath, hoping to calm either his pounding heart or his throbbing head. But by the time she knocked on the door, he was still sitting on the edge of the bed, telling himself to get his shit together.
"Uh, come in," Kurt said, only to regret it right away when he remembered he was still just wearing his boxer shorts.
Jane stepped in and eyed him thoroughly as he sat there, frozen to the mattress. She was a bit flushed from the shower, and still wafting that irresistible woodsy scent. He could no longer hear anything other than his pulse, and all his worries evaporated as he fixated on her presence.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, while finishing her critical once over.
Weller did his best to appear relaxed, even though the tension in his neck told him he was failing miserably at it. Still, he managed to look her in the eye and mutter out a lie.
"I'm good," he said, trying to sound tougher than the pain in his chest would allow.
"Thanks for… Thanks for letting me stay."
He had nearly thanked her for taking care of him, but the words had gotten stuck in his throat, triggered by his shame of not having taken care of her. So, instead, he'd dithered out a less personal thanks, all while wincing internally at how awkwardly it had come out.
Jane stepped closer, giving him a quizzical look.
"Of course," she replied.
"You were in rough shape."
He remembered showing up at her door covered in blood, and all her gentle ministrations. Which only made his heart rate increase further, especially with her still standing there, eyeing him carefully.
"Yeah, I feel a lot better now," Weller fibbed, hoping to dial down the intensity of the interaction.
"I should go. I need to go home and get changed before work."
Kurt pushed to his feet, thinking that the action would spur Jane to leave the room and give him some emotional space. But the quick movement immediately made him lightheaded and queasy, causing him to teeter precariously as dark dots swirled in his vision.
Weller had just enough time to mentally swear at himself for being so stupid before Jane rushed forward to steady him. She put one hand on his hip and the other between his shoulder blades while Kurt continued to curse inwardly at the situation. Not only had he acted unprofessionally by showing up at her door in the middle of the night, he'd only made things worse by pretending to be fine. And now he was mostly naked and the tactile sensation of her fingers on his skin was making him think inappropriate things.
"Hey, take it slow," she said, as her thumb traced the top of his hip bone.
Considering he couldn't even manage a deep breath and his vision was only just getting back online, Weller didn't argue. Instead, he stood there absorbing every aspect of Jane's proximity, watching intently as her hand slid off his hip and slowly made its way up to his forehead, after a long pause on the purple of his chest.
He opened his mouth to protest, but slammed it shut as her fingers drifted along his hairline and gently checked the cut on his temple; any desire to put up a macho front instantly quashed by how fucking good it felt to be touched by her.
"Better?"
Her eyes were green gold, radiating with that distinctive Jane-intensity. Kurt could barely exhale, much less formulate an intelligible response.
"Yeah," he managed. "Thanks."
Jane let go of him warily, her hands hovering until he was completely steady on his feet. Then, still giving him a skeptical look, she passed over his rumpled clothes from the previous day.
"Get a move on it then," she said, half-seriously.
"Time to get dressed."
She stepped out of the room then, leaving Weller some space to get a hold of himself as he struggled into his clothes. Putting on his socks was the hardest part, reminding him how rib injuries made everything painful. But at least he hadn't needed to call for assistance – that would have been too pathetic, especially considering how needy he'd already been.
Once he was dressed, Weller walked out of the room and found Jane waiting for him in the kitchen with two travel mugs. Passing him a cup, she dangled his keys in front of his face, but then palmed them as he tried to grab them.
"I'm driving," she said.
"You don't have to be in this early," Kurt argued, merely in an attempt to save face. The thought of driving through morning traffic was unappealing, even when he wasn't dealing with a major headache.
Jane rolled her eyes, her facial expression telling him that she thought he was being obtuse. Weller realized that she was often at the NYO earlier than him, ever since she'd come back. In fact, it almost seemed like she didn't sleep at all – which also explained why she'd been awake in the middle of the night. Cursing to himself, Kurt wondered why he'd never thought about it before and made a mental note to check in on her more often.
"I'm driving," she repeated firmly.
"So stop arguing and let's go."
Weller gave in, hiding the grin that threatened to emerge as Jane took command of the situation. As much as he wanted to be in control of everything, it felt comforting to let Jane take care of things for a bit, especially when it all hurt so much. That, and he loved the sly satisfied smile she flashed him when he finally acquiesced.
So he let himself relax and focus on his breathing as Jane drove him home and then back to work. By the time they arrived at the NYO, Kurt had nearly forgotten that they didn't usually travel together in the morning – it had just all felt so right.
Of course, they were then standing far too close together as they stepped out of the elevator into SIOC, sipping twin coffees when they nearly ran right into Nas walking by. The NSA agent turned and flashed him a judgemental look, which made Weller quickly realize how the situation looked.
Kurt sighed inwardly, reminding himself that she was the one that had broken it off with him. And looking over at Jane, he remembered sharply why it would never have lasted.
"We need to meet in my office," he said.
"Something happened last night."
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okay, now time for the ridiculously whumpy one! Sort of due to reader request, but mainly because it was fun to write :P
2.12 version W
For about two minutes, things had been going well.
After a day full of sadness and worry and anger, it had been a welcome relief to find Jane at his door. Her empathetic smile and offering of his favourite beer had made it all seem a bit unreal, so it had been fairly easy to shrug away his problems as he invited her in.
When Jane caught him wincing and asked if he was okay, Weller brushed it off with a little jab about her brother shooting him. Even though the once-dull pain in his ribs had been getting sharper as the day wore on, he didn't want her to worry about him. He'd seen how distressed she'd been when she finally made it back to the office after the HMX 'heist'. No matter what he said, Kurt knew she would feel guilty if he'd been hurt by Roman's actions.
But then Jane spotted Shepherd in his yearbook, watching him play basketball nearly twenty years ago. And Weller was suddenly lost to the past; reliving a memory he'd prefer not to have.
That agitation of getting caught by security, the powerlessness of not being able to protect his sister. It all came flooding back. Somehow Shepherd had spotted his weakness; she'd even managed to make him hear her point.
Now, though, that just made Kurt more frustrated - irritated that he'd listened at all. Which he recognized as pointless, and yet it didn't stop the anger from building in him. It also didn't help that he didn't have any other memories of Shepherd, but still Weller couldn't stop going through his years at the academy, reliving some of his darkest days.
He realized he was pacing, but felt unable to stop. He could vaguely hear Jane trying to talk him down, but her voice was muffled by the flood of memories he was sorting through.
Eventually his internal agitation was at its peak, his thoughts just a blur of problems that were out of his control. Kurt grabbed the back of one of the bar stools, trying to physically push the stress out of his body. But instead, he ended up slamming the chair into the breakfast bar, so hard he was surprised there wasn't any serious damage – at least not to the apartment.
Weller fell forward, barely catching himself against the edge of the bar. The sudden movement had left him gasping, the pain in his chest suddenly becoming sharp and intense. Groaning, he doubled over, his arms cradling his ribs as he tried to catch his breath.
Almost instantly he felt Jane's arms holding his torso lightly, one arm behind his back and the other across his collarbones. The added support gave his muscles some relief and helped him recover his breath a bit, but the stabbing feeling in his ribs continued.
"I'm going to help you lie down, okay?"
The idea sounded good, and it was surprisingly easy once he let Jane take over. From her position behind him, she slowly guided him down to the floor before kneeling beside him. Then, slowly, she manually uncrossed his arms and started unbuttoning his shirt.
For a moment, Weller could only feel her fingertips on his bare chest, pleasure briefly replacing pain. But then she was gasping at his matching deep purple wounds, her palms prodding his ribs individually, until he couldn't hold back a pathetic moan.
"Sorry, sorry," Jane said, pulling her hands away.
He immediately felt cold without her touch and silently admonished himself for his display of weakness.
"I'm okay," he muttered, trying to save some dignity.
Jane shot him a disbelieving look, but at least there was a flash of affection in her frown.
"I think you had a fractured rib, and you just displaced it," she replied. "Didn't you get checked out by medical?"
There hadn't been time, especially not for ribs that had felt bruised, not broken.
Weller said no, then braced for the lecture. He even knew he deserved it, after stupidly aggravating his injury.
But Jane just shook her head at him, a little twitch in her lip despite the distress spread over the rest of her.
"Of course you didn't," she muttered.
"How's the pain now? Are you still having trouble catching your breath?"
Normally he'd try to lie about it. But in this instance, Weller knew it wouldn't do anything except upset Jane further.
"Uh yeah. It's pretty bad, especially when I move."
Jane's hand drifted onto his chest again, her touch impossibly light.
"I think we need to get you to the hospital," she said, her voice tight with worry.
His impulse was to shake his head, but then another sharp pain radiated through his body and Weller wrapped his arms around himself again, unable to hold back a loud groan as he nodded his assent. No matter how stupid he felt about worsening his injury by pushing a chair against the wall, the pain was increasing and he was starting to feel short of breath again.
When the stabbing pain finally faded a little, he could feel Jane's hand on his sternum, her thumb swiping a soothing path along his skin. Then, supporting his torso carefully, she helped him stand up, holding him steady as the movement shot another spike through his chest.
"You're going to be okay, Kurt," she said, concern radiating from her hands and her voice.
"You're going to be okay."
###
"You're going to be okay."
Jane tried to keep her words calm, make them convincing. Yet, she knew it was pointless, because there was no hiding the fact that she was worried as hell.
Weller had seemed alright physically, right up to the point where his emotions boiled over. But then, something bad had obviously happened, because he'd nearly collapsed in pain, and wasn't even arguing about being taken to the hospital.
Worst case scenarios kept running through her mind as Jane kept a steady eye on Weller's breathing rate and skin tone. He appeared to be getting enough oxygen in, even though he was obviously short of breath. But she knew that could change quickly, especially if the sharp end of his rib was poking through his lung.
By the time they made it to the hospital, it was clear that he was in more pain, and his respiration had worsened. When they got inside, Jane noticed with alarm that his skin was tinted blue and was relieved when Weller was shown to an exam bed almost right away.
She got him to lie down while they waited for the doctor to come, observing him obsessively as he closed his eyes and breathed shallowly. At some point she realized her hand was gripping his tightly; and that she was forgetting to breathe as well.
Jane admonished herself mentally, reminding herself that they were in the hospital and Weller wasn't in immediate danger. Yet she hated feeling so helpless, with nothing to do but wait.
"I am an idiot," Kurt grunted, his first words in awhile.
He was looking up at her, the blue in his eyes wavering between pain and tiredness.
Her first instinct was to tell him that it could have happened to anyone, but then she realized it wasn't true.
"Yeah," she agreed. "For not getting checked out earlier."
Weller groaned, closing his eyes briefly.
"I felt okay."
"You mean sore," she countered. "You would have made me go to medical."
A grin tugged at his lip, despite everything.
"Yes I would have," he agreed.
"I learned my lesson alright? No more shoving chairs."
Jane looked at Weller sternly, still stuck on the memory of Roman firing right at him.
"You mean no more getting shot," she said. "And no more skipping out on medical."
He somehow managed to look both sheepish and defiant at the same time, and Jane felt herself relaxing a little. Especially when the doctor came in at that point and started examining him with a critical eye.
Jane stepped aside as the doctor got Weller to sit up and remove his shirt. Even though she knew what would be underneath, the massive bruising still made her wince. The doctor also eyed the damage, asking Weller why he hadn't been examined earlier.
"There wasn't time," he grunted, as the doctor pressed her hands into his ribcage and asked him to breathe deeply.
Jane could tell one of his lungs wasn't expanding like the other, even without seeing the doctor's nose furrow in concern. Then, when she checked each rib separately, Weller couldn't hold back a deep groan when her hands pressed over the darkest purple skin on his chest.
Jane shuddered, telling herself it was a reaction to the sound he'd just emitted, and not due to remembering her own hands in place of the doctor's. Whatever the cause, the shiver ran up her neck and she forced herself to refocus.
"I'm going to send you for an x-ray, but I'm fairly sure you've broken the fourth and fifth ribs on your left side and when one of them got displaced, it punctured your lung."
Jane met Weller's eye, a small smirk on her face as the doctor gave her diagnosis. She let her expression say 'I told you so', and he frowned in defeat.
"Luckily, the rib appears to have resettled, more or less in the right position. But we'll get the x-ray done to confirm if it needs to be surgically repaired. Either way, a chest tube is going to be necessary to drain the air that's formed around your lung cavity."
Jane's neck tightened at the mention of surgery - she had hoped the situation wouldn’t be so serious. But she didn't let her eyes drop away from Kurt's, trying to reassure him silently that he was going to be okay.
"Got it doc," Weller replied, with a nod.
The doctor informed him where to go for the x-rays, then left to attend to another patient. Weller shrugged his shirt onto his back, wincing as he reached to button it up.
Unable to ignore the temptation, Jane stepped towards him and replaced his hands with hers. Then, doing his shirt up slowly, she paused briefly at the bruising to place her palm on the swollen purple skin.
She'd wanted to do it, ever since watching the doctor do her exam. Which made it feel wrong in some way, and yet the opportunity had been impossible to resist.
Weller swallowed, then exhaled. She could feel the movement under her hand, almost too intimately. When he breathed in again, the lack of lung expansion felt clear, even to her inexperienced touch.
The reminders of his injuries shook her back into the moment. It wasn't the time to be stealing a touch, not when he was hurt and vulnerable – even if his heartbeat had quickened underneath her fingers. Jane pulled her hand from his chest, then promptly finished buttoning his shirt up.
"You should go get those x-rays," she said.
Weller looked a little flushed, his pallor better than it had been. But he still wasn't breathing well as she walked him over to the x-ray room and they sat down to wait.
"I don't have time for surgery," he grumbled, closing his eyes and hanging his head. "We have to go check out the lead on Shepherd tomorrow."
Jane shook her head, grinning a little at his annoyance. Of course his concern was about the case, and not about his own well-being. It was a good thing she was there or he'd likely check himself out despite his condition.
"We'll figure that out once you can breathe right," she replied, a bit sardonically.
Weller narrowed his eyes at her, his displeasure at the situation obvious. He did stop complaining though, even during the wait to get his x-rays done.
Once the radiologist was done with the chest scans, Weller was sent back to the same bed to wait for the doctor. He was wearing the same impatient frown as before, now with a little bit of tiredness mixed in too. Jane could tell he was also hurting more than he let on, as if pretending he was okay would fool the doctor.
Weller sat on the bed with pillows supporting his head and shoulders. It was the most comfortable position he could find for his ribs, but it didn't make the shortness of breath any better. His skin had regained that bluish tint and it was clear that he was feeling worse, despite his best effort to be 'fine.'
Jane was relieved when the doctor came in a few minutes later. She had been worried enough about his breathing to consider going to get help, even though Weller would have surely put up a fuss.
The doctor took one look at Kurt and put the oximeter back on his finger; then immediately reached for an oxygen mask and strapped it on. Weller scowled but didn't resist, not even pulling it off after the doctor got the air flow going.
"Your oxygen saturation is lower than I'd like. This will help with that," she said.
"Your x-rays confirm that surgery shouldn't be necessary to stabilize broken rib. But the pneumothorax it created is large enough to require a chest tube, so I will have to admit you until all the air has drained."
Now, Weller pulled the oxygen mask off, as Jane expected.
"I can't stay here. I have to go out of state tomorrow."
The doctor gave him a concerned look.
"Mr. Weller, you need to get this treated before you travel anywhere," she replied.
Kurt shook his head, and Jane could tell he had engaged full stubbornness mode.
"Sorry doc, I'm a FBI agent and it's a time sensitive case. If I'm not released by then, I'm going to leave."
The doctor looked over to Jane, silently seeking support for her side. But even though she was worried for Weller, it was hard to argue with him when Jane knew she would probably do the same thing in his position. Still, she had to try.
"Kurt, be reasonable," she sighed. "The trip can wait a day or two, it's not worth risking your health for."
"You know there's no time," he grunted, sounding short on breath without the oxygen mask on.
"I'm not waiting, Jane."
"Look, we're wasting time here," the doctor interjected. "I'm going to insert the chest tube and get the air draining. If there's significant improvement by morning, it's possible you can leave with the chest tube still in, as long as you come back to finish the treatment."
At least it shut Weller up, and he let Jane put the mask back on while the doctor prepped for the procedure. Then she took it upon herself to unbutton his shirt for him as well, slipping it off just as the doctor had her tools ready.
"You don't have to watch, it's a minor procedure but can be a little unpleasant to witness," the doctor said to Jane, before beginning.
"I'll stay."
She had no intention of leaving Weller alone, even under professional care.
"Okay then. Mr. Weller, I'll start by sterilizing the area with iodine and injecting lidocaine into your ribcage before making an incision and inserting the tube."
It wasn't bad until the doctor used her finger to jab through the lining of his ribs to create an entry into his pleural cavity. Even though Jane knew Kurt couldn't feel it due to the lidocaine, it still made her wince, watching the doctor's bloody finger come out of the hole in his chest.
Quickly, the doctor put the chest tube through, and sutured it into place before connecting it to the drainage container on the floor. Then, after checking all of Weller's vitals again, she left the room, saying she'd be back to look in on him before morning.
Until that moment, Jane hadn't really realized they would be staying there for the next eight hours. Weller still looked pissed off about it, the furrow in his brow clear even with the oxygen mask on. But she was just glad he was there, getting the help he needed. And, equally, she was happy to be the one there with him, even if it did mean an uncomfortable night.
"You should go home," Weller said. "Get some sleep."
Jane shook her head, putting her hand over his, guiding the oxygen mask back into place.
"There's no way that's happening," she replied. "I'm not leaving you here by yourself."
Weller reached for the mask again, but Jane caught his hand with hers and pre-empted his argument.
"I know. You're going to be fine. But I'm still staying to make sure."
She gave his hand a little squeeze, before guiding it down to his side. For a moment though, Jane wondered if he was telling her to leave because he would rather have someone else there.
His relationship with Nas was an open secret amongst the team, and she had done her best not to wonder about it. They just didn't seem all that compatible as people, though Jane recognized that she was biased in her assessment.
Suddenly feeling awkward, like she was using her presence during his medical emergency to coopt a place in Weller's life, Jane let go of his hand and stood back from the bed. When Kurt didn't try to hold on, she took it as a sign to pose the question.
"Or I can call someone else for you. But I don't want you to be here alone."
Weller's expression had shifted, the irritation gone from his brow. Instead, the blue in his eyes had softened from the ice that previously been there.
Pulling the mask down, he looked at her affectionately.
"There isn't anyone else," he said.
Her heart seized for a moment as she forgot to breathe. Then, exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm herself, Jane tried to find other ways to interpret his words, other than the way in which she wanted to hear them.
But, try as she might, Jane couldn't stop her pulse from pounding, and she felt her palms getting clammy as well. Even though nothing about the situation was romantic at all, with Weller lying in a hospital bed in pain, a tube sucking air out of his chest.
"Okay, well. I guess you're stuck with me then," she said, cringing internally at her attempt to keep the mood light.
But then Weller managed a grin at her comment and she could see his shoulders softening into the bed as he finally accepted the situation. Stepping closer again, Jane gave him a tender look while settling the oxygen mask back into position.
"Close your eyes," she coaxed. "You need to rest and heal."
For once, Kurt didn't argue. As her hand drifted to his hairline, his eyelids slid shut and he started to take longer breaths. Before long, he had drifted off to sleep; but Jane still stood there, rubbing little thumb circles against his temple until her legs ached.
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okay, now time for the ridiculously whumpy one! Sort of due to reader request, but mainly because it was fun to write :P
2.12 version W
For about two minutes, things had been going well.
After a day full of sadness and worry and anger, it had been a welcome relief to find Jane at his door. Her empathetic smile and offering of his favourite beer had made it all seem a bit unreal, so it had been fairly easy to shrug away his problems as he invited her in.
When Jane caught him wincing and asked if he was okay, Weller brushed it off with a little jab about her brother shooting him. Even though the once-dull pain in his ribs had been getting sharper as the day wore on, he didn't want her to worry about him. He'd seen how distressed she'd been when she finally made it back to the office after the HMX 'heist'. No matter what he said, Kurt knew she would feel guilty if he'd been hurt by Roman's actions.
But then Jane spotted Shepherd in his yearbook, watching him play basketball nearly twenty years ago. And Weller was suddenly lost to the past; reliving a memory he'd prefer not to have.
That agitation of getting caught by security, the powerlessness of not being able to protect his sister. It all came flooding back. Somehow Shepherd had spotted his weakness; she'd even managed to make him hear her point.
Now, though, that just made Kurt more frustrated - irritated that he'd listened at all. Which he recognized as pointless, and yet it didn't stop the anger from building in him. It also didn't help that he didn't have any other memories of Shepherd, but still Weller couldn't stop going through his years at the academy, reliving some of his darkest days.
He realized he was pacing, but felt unable to stop. He could vaguely hear Jane trying to talk him down, but her voice was muffled by the flood of memories he was sorting through.
Eventually his internal agitation was at its peak, his thoughts just a blur of problems that were out of his control. Kurt grabbed the back of one of the bar stools, trying to physically push the stress out of his body. But instead, he ended up slamming the chair into the breakfast bar, so hard he was surprised there wasn't any serious damage – at least not to the apartment.
Weller fell forward, barely catching himself against the edge of the bar. The sudden movement had left him gasping, the pain in his chest suddenly becoming sharp and intense. Groaning, he doubled over, his arms cradling his ribs as he tried to catch his breath.
Almost instantly he felt Jane's arms holding his torso lightly, one arm behind his back and the other across his collarbones. The added support gave his muscles some relief and helped him recover his breath a bit, but the stabbing feeling in his ribs continued.
"I'm going to help you lie down, okay?"
The idea sounded good, and it was surprisingly easy once he let Jane take over. From her position behind him, she slowly guided him down to the floor before kneeling beside him. Then, slowly, she manually uncrossed his arms and started unbuttoning his shirt.
For a moment, Weller could only feel her fingertips on his bare chest, pleasure briefly replacing pain. But then she was gasping at his matching deep purple wounds, her palms prodding his ribs individually, until he couldn't hold back a pathetic moan.
"Sorry, sorry," Jane said, pulling her hands away.
He immediately felt cold without her touch and silently admonished himself for his display of weakness.
"I'm okay," he muttered, trying to save some dignity.
Jane shot him a disbelieving look, but at least there was a flash of affection in her frown.
"I think you had a fractured rib, and you just displaced it," she replied. "Didn't you get checked out by medical?"
There hadn't been time, especially not for ribs that had felt bruised, not broken.
Weller said no, then braced for the lecture. He even knew he deserved it, after stupidly aggravating his injury.
But Jane just shook her head at him, a little twitch in her lip despite the distress spread over the rest of her.
"Of course you didn't," she muttered.
"How's the pain now? Are you still having trouble catching your breath?"
Normally he'd try to lie about it. But in this instance, Weller knew it wouldn't do anything except upset Jane further.
"Uh yeah. It's pretty bad, especially when I move."
Jane's hand drifted onto his chest again, her touch impossibly light.
"I think we need to get you to the hospital," she said, her voice tight with worry.
His impulse was to shake his head, but then another sharp pain radiated through his body and Weller wrapped his arms around himself again, unable to hold back a loud groan as he nodded his assent. No matter how stupid he felt about worsening his injury by pushing a chair against the wall, the pain was increasing and he was starting to feel short of breath again.
When the stabbing pain finally faded a little, he could feel Jane's hand on his sternum, her thumb swiping a soothing path along his skin. Then, supporting his torso carefully, she helped him stand up, holding him steady as the movement shot another spike through his chest.
"You're going to be okay, Kurt," she said, concern radiating from her hands and her voice.
"You're going to be okay."
###
"You're going to be okay."
Jane tried to keep her words calm, make them convincing. Yet, she knew it was pointless, because there was no hiding the fact that she was worried as hell.
Weller had seemed alright physically, right up to the point where his emotions boiled over. But then, something bad had obviously happened, because he'd nearly collapsed in pain, and wasn't even arguing about being taken to the hospital.
Worst case scenarios kept running through her mind as Jane kept a steady eye on Weller's breathing rate and skin tone. He appeared to be getting enough oxygen in, even though he was obviously short of breath. But she knew that could change quickly, especially if the sharp end of his rib was poking through his lung.
By the time they made it to the hospital, it was clear that he was in more pain, and his respiration had worsened. When they got inside, Jane noticed with alarm that his skin was tinted blue and was relieved when Weller was shown to an exam bed almost right away.
She got him to lie down while they waited for the doctor to come, observing him obsessively as he closed his eyes and breathed shallowly. At some point she realized her hand was gripping his tightly; and that she was forgetting to breathe as well.
Jane admonished herself mentally, reminding herself that they were in the hospital and Weller wasn't in immediate danger. Yet she hated feeling so helpless, with nothing to do but wait.
"I am an idiot," Kurt grunted, his first words in awhile.
He was looking up at her, the blue in his eyes wavering between pain and tiredness.
Her first instinct was to tell him that it could have happened to anyone, but then she realized it wasn't true.
"Yeah," she agreed. "For not getting checked out earlier."
Weller groaned, closing his eyes briefly.
"I felt okay."
"You mean sore," she countered. "You would have made me go to medical."
A grin tugged at his lip, despite everything.
"Yes I would have," he agreed.
"I learned my lesson alright? No more shoving chairs."
Jane looked at Weller sternly, still stuck on the memory of Roman firing right at him.
"You mean no more getting shot," she said. "And no more skipping out on medical."
He somehow managed to look both sheepish and defiant at the same time, and Jane felt herself relaxing a little. Especially when the doctor came in at that point and started examining him with a critical eye.
Jane stepped aside as the doctor got Weller to sit up and remove his shirt. Even though she knew what would be underneath, the massive bruising still made her wince. The doctor also eyed the damage, asking Weller why he hadn't been examined earlier.
"There wasn't time," he grunted, as the doctor pressed her hands into his ribcage and asked him to breathe deeply.
Jane could tell one of his lungs wasn't expanding like the other, even without seeing the doctor's nose furrow in concern. Then, when she checked each rib separately, Weller couldn't hold back a deep groan when her hands pressed over the darkest purple skin on his chest.
Jane shuddered, telling herself it was a reaction to the sound he'd just emitted, and not due to remembering her own hands in place of the doctor's. Whatever the cause, the shiver ran up her neck and she forced herself to refocus.
"I'm going to send you for an x-ray, but I'm fairly sure you've broken the fourth and fifth ribs on your left side and when one of them got displaced, it punctured your lung."
Jane met Weller's eye, a small smirk on her face as the doctor gave her diagnosis. She let her expression say 'I told you so', and he frowned in defeat.
"Luckily, the rib appears to have resettled, more or less in the right position. But we'll get the x-ray done to confirm if it needs to be surgically repaired. Either way, a chest tube is going to be necessary to drain the air that's formed around your lung cavity."
Jane's neck tightened at the mention of surgery - she had hoped the situation wouldn’t be so serious. But she didn't let her eyes drop away from Kurt's, trying to reassure him silently that he was going to be okay.
"Got it doc," Weller replied, with a nod.
The doctor informed him where to go for the x-rays, then left to attend to another patient. Weller shrugged his shirt onto his back, wincing as he reached to button it up.
Unable to ignore the temptation, Jane stepped towards him and replaced his hands with hers. Then, doing his shirt up slowly, she paused briefly at the bruising to place her palm on the swollen purple skin.
She'd wanted to do it, ever since watching the doctor do her exam. Which made it feel wrong in some way, and yet the opportunity had been impossible to resist.
Weller swallowed, then exhaled. She could feel the movement under her hand, almost too intimately. When he breathed in again, the lack of lung expansion felt clear, even to her inexperienced touch.
The reminders of his injuries shook her back into the moment. It wasn't the time to be stealing a touch, not when he was hurt and vulnerable – even if his heartbeat had quickened underneath her fingers. Jane pulled her hand from his chest, then promptly finished buttoning his shirt up.
"You should go get those x-rays," she said.
Weller looked a little flushed, his pallor better than it had been. But he still wasn't breathing well as she walked him over to the x-ray room and they sat down to wait.
"I don't have time for surgery," he grumbled, closing his eyes and hanging his head. "We have to go check out the lead on Shepherd tomorrow."
Jane shook her head, grinning a little at his annoyance. Of course his concern was about the case, and not about his own well-being. It was a good thing she was there or he'd likely check himself out despite his condition.
"We'll figure that out once you can breathe right," she replied, a bit sardonically.
Weller narrowed his eyes at her, his displeasure at the situation obvious. He did stop complaining though, even during the wait to get his x-rays done.
Once the radiologist was done with the chest scans, Weller was sent back to the same bed to wait for the doctor. He was wearing the same impatient frown as before, now with a little bit of tiredness mixed in too. Jane could tell he was also hurting more than he let on, as if pretending he was okay would fool the doctor.
Weller sat on the bed with pillows supporting his head and shoulders. It was the most comfortable position he could find for his ribs, but it didn't make the shortness of breath any better. His skin had regained that bluish tint and it was clear that he was feeling worse, despite his best effort to be 'fine.'
Jane was relieved when the doctor came in a few minutes later. She had been worried enough about his breathing to consider going to get help, even though Weller would have surely put up a fuss.
The doctor took one look at Kurt and put the oximeter back on his finger; then immediately reached for an oxygen mask and strapped it on. Weller scowled but didn't resist, not even pulling it off after the doctor got the air flow going.
"Your oxygen saturation is lower than I'd like. This will help with that," she said.
"Your x-rays confirm that surgery shouldn't be necessary to stabilize broken rib. But the pneumothorax it created is large enough to require a chest tube, so I will have to admit you until all the air has drained."
Now, Weller pulled the oxygen mask off, as Jane expected.
"I can't stay here. I have to go out of state tomorrow."
The doctor gave him a concerned look.
"Mr. Weller, you need to get this treated before you travel anywhere," she replied.
Kurt shook his head, and Jane could tell he had engaged full stubbornness mode.
"Sorry doc, I'm a FBI agent and it's a time sensitive case. If I'm not released by then, I'm going to leave."
The doctor looked over to Jane, silently seeking support for her side. But even though she was worried for Weller, it was hard to argue with him when Jane knew she would probably do the same thing in his position. Still, she had to try.
"Kurt, be reasonable," she sighed. "The trip can wait a day or two, it's not worth risking your health for."
"You know there's no time," he grunted, sounding short on breath without the oxygen mask on.
"I'm not waiting, Jane."
"Look, we're wasting time here," the doctor interjected. "I'm going to insert the chest tube and get the air draining. If there's significant improvement by morning, it's possible you can leave with the chest tube still in, as long as you come back to finish the treatment."
At least it shut Weller up, and he let Jane put the mask back on while the doctor prepped for the procedure. Then she took it upon herself to unbutton his shirt for him as well, slipping it off just as the doctor had her tools ready.
"You don't have to watch, it's a minor procedure but can be a little unpleasant to witness," the doctor said to Jane, before beginning.
"I'll stay."
She had no intention of leaving Weller alone, even under professional care.
"Okay then. Mr. Weller, I'll start by sterilizing the area with iodine and injecting lidocaine into your ribcage before making an incision and inserting the tube."
It wasn't bad until the doctor used her finger to jab through the lining of his ribs to create an entry into his pleural cavity. Even though Jane knew Kurt couldn't feel it due to the lidocaine, it still made her wince, watching the doctor's bloody finger come out of the hole in his chest.
Quickly, the doctor put the chest tube through, and sutured it into place before connecting it to the drainage container on the floor. Then, after checking all of Weller's vitals again, she left the room, saying she'd be back to look in on him before morning.
Until that moment, Jane hadn't really realized they would be staying there for the next eight hours. Weller still looked pissed off about it, the furrow in his brow clear even with the oxygen mask on. But she was just glad he was there, getting the help he needed. And, equally, she was happy to be the one there with him, even if it did mean an uncomfortable night.
"You should go home," Weller said. "Get some sleep."
Jane shook her head, putting her hand over his, guiding the oxygen mask back into place.
"There's no way that's happening," she replied. "I'm not leaving you here by yourself."
Weller reached for the mask again, but Jane caught his hand with hers and pre-empted his argument.
"I know. You're going to be fine. But I'm still staying to make sure."
She gave his hand a little squeeze, before guiding it down to his side. For a moment though, Jane wondered if he was telling her to leave because he would rather have someone else there.
His relationship with Nas was an open secret amongst the team, and she had done her best not to wonder about it. They just didn't seem all that compatible as people, though Jane recognized that she was biased in her assessment.
Suddenly feeling awkward, like she was using her presence during his medical emergency to coopt a place in Weller's life, Jane let go of his hand and stood back from the bed. When Kurt didn't try to hold on, she took it as a sign to pose the question.
"Or I can call someone else for you. But I don't want you to be here alone."
Weller's expression had shifted, the irritation gone from his brow. Instead, the blue in his eyes had softened from the ice that previously been there.
Pulling the mask down, he looked at her affectionately.
"There isn't anyone else," he said.
Her heart seized for a moment as she forgot to breathe. Then, exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm herself, Jane tried to find other ways to interpret his words, other than the way in which she wanted to hear them.
But, try as she might, Jane couldn't stop her pulse from pounding, and she felt her palms getting clammy as well. Even though nothing about the situation was romantic at all, with Weller lying in a hospital bed in pain, a tube sucking air out of his chest.
"Okay, well. I guess you're stuck with me then," she said, cringing internally at her attempt to keep the mood light.
But then Weller managed a grin at her comment and she could see his shoulders softening into the bed as he finally accepted the situation. Stepping closer again, Jane gave him a tender look while settling the oxygen mask back into position.
"Close your eyes," she coaxed. "You need to rest and heal."
For once, Kurt didn't argue. As her hand drifted to his hairline, his eyelids slid shut and he started to take longer breaths. Before long, he had drifted off to sleep; but Jane still stood there, rubbing little thumb circles against his temple until her legs ached.
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hey all... I’m back from a hiatus and trying to catch up with the rewatch so... fic dump time!
today... double dose of 2.12. stealing @indelibleevidence‘s idea and doing the apartment scene two ways. but because it’s me, one is ‘normal whumpy’ and the other is ‘extra whumpy’, haha. I think it’ll be clear which is which :P
2.12 version A
It felt risky, showing up at his door unannounced. But two moments of that day were sticking to her; sharp little barbs that wouldn't leave her alone. And Jane knew only seeing him would bring her any relief.
"It's not stupid," she said when he answered it. Even though she knew he would have no idea what she was talking about.
But it had lingered in her mind, his obvious sadness, and his attempt to deflect it. Weller didn't usually let his emotions show, and yet it had still been so clear to her that he was upset.
Her chest had ached for him, but it had warmed too. Seeing those hidden parts of him, it felt like getting a glimpse into his heart.
So she hadn't been able to get it out of her head. And it certainly wasn't the only scene from the day she couldn't escape.
Roman shooting them, point blank. She kept seeing it over and over.
Even now, Jane internally flinched at the memory, even though both Weller and Reade ended up being okay. Kurt had even absolved her and Roman of any blame for what had happened, and yet she still felt terrible for putting him in that position.
Vests fail. He could have died. And even though Kurt had tried to play off the pain, she knew it had to hurt a lot for him to show any discomfort at all.
Standing at his door now, Weller looked a bit surprised but physically fine, which reassured her immediately. Then, the smile he offered her was so genuine and charming, Jane couldn't help remembering all the things she'd missed about him. Immediately, all doubt about showing up unannounced died away; he was clearly pleased to see her.
Jane relaxed a bit as Weller opened two beers and brought them over. He was trying to keep things loose, bugging her about her brother shooting him. And even though that had been stressing her out, his friendly demeanour now chased away her worry, as she felt that comfortable familiarity building between them once more.
Jane did her best to carry the good mood, offering to help look at the files on him but then getting distracted by the yearbook on his table. The chance to see pictures of a young Kurt was far too precious to be missed and she opened it eagerly, even as Weller grumbled about barely being in it.
She found him immediately though, pointing at him with glee. He sidled up to comment and things were going great until another part of the image caught her eye. Then, as always, Sandstorm jumped into the moment, disrupting the ease of the evening. As soon as Jane pointed out Shepherd in the stands at his basketball game, Kurt's good mood evaporated and he was lost to his one memory of her.
He told Jane about sneaking out of the school at night and getting caught by the security guards, but not until after he'd landed a couple hits of his own. Then getting reamed out by the commandant and meeting Shepherd afterwards.
Weller was agitated as he recounted his tale and then wracked his brain for any other times he met Shepherd at the academy. But even though she felt terrible for him, knowing how much it bothered him that he'd been watched for so long, Jane couldn't help but grin to herself as she pictured an angry teenaged Kurt, rebelling against the world.
She felt the same affection for adult Kurt, now pacing the length of the breakfast bar and muttering to himself.
"That was almost twenty years ago," he said. "It doesn't make any sense. I was a nobody back then."
Weller groaned, his frustration showing through as he rubbed his eyes wearily and continued to pace.
"Why?" he muttered. "There was nothing special about me. I was almost kicked out."
She knew he was telling his own truth, yet Jane also knew there had surely been something exceptional about young Weller. Not because he'd been singled out by Shepherd, but just because he was Kurt. His heart and his drive were unmatched; that was probably what Shepherd had seen in him, even way back then.
Jane considered telling him that, then thought better of it. Weller was agitated and stirring in his memories; she didn't want to add to his overloaded mind.
"Kurt, stop for a minute," she said instead.
But Weller didn't even seem to hear her through his own grumble of unanswerable questions; just kept stomping out a repetitive path until he grabbed the back of a stool in frustration.
For a moment it looked like he was going to launch the chair at the wall and Jane stepped towards him, alarmed at how quickly his emotions had escalated. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she could feel that Weller was almost shaking with tension.
Cursing herself for epically failing in her attempt to have a relaxing evening with Kurt, Jane unconsciously started rubbing his back as she tried to talk him down.
"Hey, we're going to figure this out," she said. "We'll find out how she was connected to the academy and why she was watching you."
Weller growled, still gripping the back of the chair tightly.
"It's not just that," he muttered. "Everything feels so out of my control."
Snapping upright suddenly, Kurt violently shoved the stool at the breakfast bar before grunting sharply at the movement. Jane's hand was still on his back as he curled his upper body, hugging himself tightly while trying to recover his breath.
Frowning, Jane wondered if the injury to his chest was worse than he'd let on. Which shouldn't have surprised her; he'd been shot twice at close range, was lucky not to have broken some ribs.
It was only then that she realized he probably hadn't gone to medical afterwards, even though he would have insisted on it if she'd taken two bullets to the plates. And once Jane started thinking about it, the worry wouldn't leave her alone.
"Hey, did you get checked out by a doctor?" she asked.
Weller had regained his breath and wasn't hunched over anymore, but his voice still sounded tight as he stepped away from her touch.
"I'm fine. It's just sore."
"That looked more like serious pain," Jane commented, her hand dropping back to her side.
Turning to face her again, Weller's irritation seemed to fade towards tiredness.
"I'll be okay," he muttered.
"I want to be sure about that," Jane replied.
It was why she'd taken the chance and shown up at his place. And now it was seeming more like he wasn't okay at all.
"Can I see?" she asked.
Weller shook his head.
"I'm fine, Jane. It's just a bruise."
"Prove it, then."
She hadn't meant for it to come out as a demand, and yet it had stopped Kurt's protesting. He was still frowning at her though, his body taut with resistance as she stepped closer, her eyes catching his as she reached for his shirt.
Unsure about what she was doing, but unable to stop herself, Jane started unbuttoning his shirt. Weller watched intently as she undid the first button, his expression serious and unreadable. Yet he didn't try to stop her, just kept staring at her with a furrowed brow as she opened the rest of his shirt and revealed two dark purple welts on his chest.
Grimacing at the sight, Jane let out a soft 'oh' and barely stopped herself from reaching out and touching his bruised skin. Both shots were centre mass, and she couldn't help picturing the bullets piercing his body, tearing through his heart.
"Are you sure nothing's broken?" she asked. "It looks pretty bad."
The urge to check for herself was nearly impossible to contain. But she already felt like she was pushing too far. They had only recently gotten closer again, enough so she'd come by to look in on him that night. She didn't want to make things uncomfortable between them again; not when their relationship had come such a long way.
"It's just bruised," Weller replied.
"I'm fine."
Jane pulled her eyes from his swollen chest and looked up, shaking her head at him.
"Yeah. You keep saying that. But I'm not convinced."
###
"Yeah. You keep saying that. But I'm not convinced."
It was the day that just kept giving.
He'd been stewing about everything before Jane knocked on his door. Allie moving away with his baby; taking two in the vest and still losing the HMX; getting dumped after all that.
Then, for a brief moment, it had all faded into the background. There was just Jane, at his doorstep, with an empathetic smile and his favourite beer.
The lightness had only lasted a few minutes though, not even long enough to drink a beer together. When she'd spotted Shepherd in his yearbook, he'd gotten caught up in his only memory of her, fixating on it for any clue as to why he'd been picked for her plot.
And then, somehow, nearly launching a stool through his breakfast bar had resulted in him standing there in front of Jane, with his shirt undone.
Weller felt exposed, the way he had earlier that day, when Jane had asked him if there was something wrong. Nobody else had noticed, nor would he have admitted the problem, even if anyone else had asked. He'd almost been surprised to find himself telling her, baring his heart so openly.
But it was Jane. She'd always had that effect on him.
And at least he wasn't ruminating about his problems anymore, his mind now completely occupied with what Jane would do next.
The thought that he should button up his shirt and step away flitted through Weller's mind. And yet he just stood there, staring at the concern in Jane's expression, feeling both warm and conflicted about her obvious worry for him.
Because he wasn't fine. His chest ached and his heart was in pieces and everything felt out of control. So many things could have gone wrong that day, and most of them had - except Roman talking Kat out of killing him and Jane.
He remembered telling her to be careful, because he knew how she could be about her brother. She'd looked so pissed off, her eyes like daggers. And now she was staring at his bare skin, those same eyes now soft and empathetic. He loved both sides of her; his heart thumping in his ear as he distantly heard words spilling from his mouth.
"I'll be okay. It's just been a rough day."
"Yeah," she agreed, the heady air between them suddenly broken. "It has."
He'd been so caught up in his own problems that he hadn't thought about anything else. But just then, Weller saw that he'd been missing something important.
"Are you alright?" he asked, knowing suddenly that she wasn't.
Jane was silent for awhile, then sighed and looked up to meet his eyes.
"I feel like I keep screwing up. I convinced you to do this. And almost got you killed. It was a bad idea."
He'd forgotten how responsible she felt for bringing the tattoos into their lives. Or maybe he'd just buried it deep, unable to resolve the dissonance between that Jane and the one who'd lied to them. But then somewhere along the way, he'd remembered that she'd do anything to protect the people she loved; even if that meant putting her own life in danger.
As she'd done that day, bringing Roman on the mission to get him out of his cell and give him an opportunity to contribute. Despite how risky it had been for her to bet on her brother, there had been no waver in her resolve.
"Hey, I'm the one in charge here. This isn't on you," Weller said.
"I keep seeing Roman shoot you."
He realized only then that was partly responsible for her appearance at his door; that Jane was checking up on him to soothe her own demons. Which shouldn't have felt so good, and yet it did - making him remember, once again, why he'd loved her so much.
"Hey I'm right here. Roman did what he had to do," he tried.
"None of it is your fault, Jane."
Still, she stared at his chest with that consternated furrow.
"It would have gone right through your heart," she murmured.
"But it didn't," he replied.
Weller inched closer, as if to prove his wholeness to her. In response, Jane stepped right up to him, and he had a premonition of what was going to happen. For a brief second, he also considered that he'd geared his actions toward that moment; manipulated it somehow.
But when Jane shyly placed the palm of her hand over the bruise on his chest, he was washed away by a flood of emotions and memories. Her touch on his bare skin, warm over his heart; it set all of his nerves on fire. Desperately, Kurt pushed back on the arousal that flooded through him, reminding himself of all the reasons he shouldn't be so close to her.
"But it didn't," Jane repeated, so quietly he barely heard it.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get upset. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Of course he knew that already. She'd shown up with beer, trying to be a good friend. It was his fault the tone of the night had shifted so drastically, his anxieties that had changed things from a casual fun night into an emotionally charged situation.
But now she was visibly distressed, her hand caressing his bruises. Gently, Weller took her fingers in his, dropping them away from his chest as he used his other arm to pull her even closer.
Jane seemed unsure for just a moment, but then sank into his embrace, laying her head lightly against his sternum. And the comfortable weight of her there felt so right, even though alarm bells were ringing throughout his body.
He considered never letting go of her, but eventually he felt her exhale heavily and lean out of his of arms. So he stepped back, and got rewarded with a sheepish grin.
"I think I should go?" she said, looking a bit embarrassed.
"No. You were right," Kurt replied firmly. "We shouldn't both be alone."
The truth was, he never felt less alone than when he was with her.
And he was starting to think it was possible Jane felt the same; especially when her smile finally made it to her eyes.
"Okay then, let's drink some more beer," she said.
Weller laughed, feeling freed from his worries again, for at least that moment. His baby was moving far away and the mission had been a bust and Shepherd had been watching him for decades. But also, against all odds, Jane was alive and at his place, trying to look after him.
"Yes ma'am," he replied.
It really was the day that just kept giving.
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The River
Christmas Eve fic time... this one’s a gift for all my fellow Remi fans out there! It’s a bit AU, quite long and post s4e8. Again, it probably makes no sense that Christmas happens then but... I wanted to send Remi and Weller on a winter adventure so why not make it a holiday-ish fic too :P
*
The fight had been short but brutal. His wife was deadly even while dying herself. Or, more accurately, the terrorist inhabiting his wife's body was both effective and relentless. But Weller had a surprise for her, a fitting one, considering she'd once planned something similar for him.
Weller's body ached as much as his heart when he plunged the syringe into her neck and Remi fell into his arms. Even now, it was so hard not to think of her as Jane - to remember that she was his enemy.
When Patterson called, Weller was grinding his jaw, thinking about the experimental procedure they were about to put her brain through. He understood that it was dangerous, that he might lose Jane entirely in trying to get her back. But he had to try, no matter the risks involved. He knew how much Jane would hate Remi's actions since commandeering her body again. And she had always been daring with her own life, even without a single memory in her head. She would definitely be in support of trying anything to regain control of her consciousness.
Surprisingly though, Patterson wasn't calling about the procedure they were about to do on Jane's brain. Instead, she told him a long-winded story of a series of loot boxes in a certain highly popular videogame that ended up leading her to the location of one of Roman's caches, the one that was supposed to tell them where to find the cure.
The catch was, the cache was in a time-sensitive location and, of course, the only window was the next twenty-four hours. Patterson was going on about how the loot boxes had been programmed to only drop at a specified time, based around a militia's scheduled attack, but Weller wasn't listening anymore. He had all the information he needed and the answer he came up with was surprisingly clear.
"But Weller," Patterson added. "This is a two-person mission and you'd have to leave immediately. So, you'd have to go with…"
Kurt glanced over his shoulder where Remi was lying unconscious, carefully strapped into the backseat of the SUV.
"Do you trust her?"
Fuck. She had just caused a fake nuclear attack and broken her terrorist mother out of a CIA black site. Then he'd tricked her into their meeting and drugged her. It was hard to see how they were going to work together considering that recent history.
But then again, they had managed during that fiasco at the evidence warehouse. Even with the hostility between them, they had done fairly well once they'd shared goal.
So no, he didn't trust her. But she'd had months to kill him and hadn't. Which had to mean something.
And, regardless of all that, he was desperate to keep her alive. Willing to do anything as long as he had a chance of getting Jane back in the end.
Weller pretended to ignore Patterson's question and pushed through his many reservations.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
*
She woke up disoriented, her head and heart both pounding. Her eyelids were too heavy to lift yet so Remi did her best to gather info with her other senses.
The cold metal of a handcuff was around her wrist and she felt the rumble of a small engine plane.
Was she already on a flight to some CIA black site?
Remi tried to ignore the unbidden flare of emotion that followed that thought - what could have been a twinge of disappointment. Even though she'd been eager to leave Weller behind after the warehouse situation, she still thought he'd want to talk to her before giving her over to a government sanctioned torture chamber.
Not that she ever wanted to see him again, she was just surprised he hadn't wanted to see her.
Remi finally forced her eyes open at that point, suddenly needing to confirm what her sinking gut was telling her. Maybe there was still a way to escape and get back to Shepherd so they could restart the whole operation.
She was a little surprised to see light when her eyelids finally lifted; her head should have been black-bagged. Even in the air where there were no clues about the destination, it was about maintaining full control over the prisoner.
But Remi was completely confounded when she blinked and saw Weller's bright blues staring into her. Then had to silently curse at the relief that flooded through her when she realized he was there.
His goddamned eyes were always so full of emotion, constantly showing the kind of caring she'd never experienced before. But that was for Jane, and she'd been exposed as an imposter.
So why was he still looking at her like that?
"Oh good, you're awake," he breathed. "I thought I'd given you too much. I forgot to ask Patterson if I should change the dose because of the ZIP."
What did it matter if they were just going to throw her in a cell and let her rot? It would be better to be put to sleep, especially considering she had an incurable disease that was about to rob her of her mind and body.
Weller sounded so genuinely worried, which she attributed to false hope that he could somehow get his wife back. He had to keep Jane's body alive in the meantime, so he was forced to care about what happened to her.
"Where are we going?" Remi grumbled, closing her eyes again in an attempt to block out her headache.
"New Hampshire," Weller replied, nonsensically.
She desperately wanted to resist the bait but Remi's desire for information eventually won out.
"What the hell is going on, Weller? Am I getting a personal escort to the black site this time?"
Kurt furrowed his brow and studied her too intently, the way he always did. Then, finally, he sighed and answered her.
"You know I would never do that to you. Or let it happen again," he muttered, trying to sound gruff but failing miserably at it.
"Only because hurting me means hurting your precious Jane too," Remi spat out.
Weller looked wounded by her statement and again Remi felt a twinge of discomfort. Whereas it had once been emotionally satisfying to lash out at Kurt and watch him suffer, she'd noticed herself doing it less as time wore on. And, if she were being honest with herself, Remi knew that he would never let anyone hurt her like that, even now that he knew the truth.
Her barb had made him go silent again though, as if Weller were re-considering whatever it was he had planned. So if she wanted to get out of the handcuffs, she needed to play along and regain his trust - use his good-heartedness against him.
"Patterson thinks she found one of Roman's caches. The one that's supposed to have info about a cure. But it's deep in militia-owned land and our only window of opportunity is during their next planned attack. Which is due to start in two hours, according to the documents that came with the location. Of course, the attack will be stopped but we should still have a chance to get in and get the cache."
Remi stared at him, trying to wrap her head around what he'd just said. He'd had her unconscious; she should be in a cell now that he knew who she really was and what she'd done. Even if he wanted to save her life, there was no reason to bring her along on the trip. It seemed absurd that he would trust her at all considering she'd ditched him at the warehouse and then engineered Shepherd's breakout.
But, as always, he seemed entirely genuine. Though, of course, she was still his prisoner, both figuratively and literally. She needed his help to find the cure. And, she was handcuffed to the seat.
If she were to ever regain her freedom, she needed to win him over. A host of options came to her mind; ways she could manipulate him into trusting her just long enough for her to get away. Yet, when Remi spoke, the obvious truth came spilling out instead.
"You know if you give me access to the cure you'll never see me again," she sneered, trying to sound more condescending than confused.
Weller's entire body sagged with her statement and he looked right into her with so much sadness Remi nearly had to glance away.
"I know," he replied.
She had come to accept that he wasn't a complete idiot, so none of this made any sense to her. If he only wanted Jane back then he'd go get the cure without her, give it to her in a cell while trying to figure out if there was any way to "switch" her over again. There was no reason to trust her on a dangerous mission, especially with the risk of her running out on him yet again.
And yet, there he was, taking the handcuff key out of his pocket.
Eyeing her contemplatively one more time, Weller removed the cuff; then gently rubbed his thumb against the skin underneath, as if checking for damage. Remi willed herself not to shiver at his touch, doing her best to keep her breath even as he looked at her closely, wearing that familiar frown.
"Here," he said, passing her two pain pills and a glass of water.
Remi scowled. She detested the things, especially anything strong enough to take the edge of her headaches of late. It made her feel weak to have to rely on her meds and yet sometimes she craved the physical relief they could bring. So she hadn't fought Weller as hard as she could when he'd magically come around offering them to her every time her headache became unbearable. She had told herself it was to keep her cover but that hadn't resolved the self judgment.
This time Remi swallowed the drugs without complaint, grudgingly accepting that she had to be as sharp as possible going into this mission. If they managed to get the cache she'd have to find a way to take Weller out and escape with the information. Which would be difficult enough without a debilitating headache.
Once she was done with the pills, Weller silently passed her a gun and a parachute.
Maybe he really is an idiot, she thought.
The problem was the thought should have been dripping in disdain, not tinted with unbidden affection.
Remi grabbed the items with a shake of her head, then secured the weapon before donning her backpack. The plane was just getting into the optimal zone for the jump as she stepped to the door with Kurt.
"Why would you do this?"
Why would you trust me, go to these desperate lengths when you know I'm the enemy? Especially if you know that I will never willingly give you your wife back, even if I could.
She was asking all of these things at once and she could see in his eyes that he understood the depth of her question.
"I don't know," he said with a shrug.
"I guess I still believe in you."
And with that he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the plane.
*
It was insane to trust her. Yet he'd let her go and given her a gun and now they were alone in the deeply wooded mountains of New Hampshire, when he should have been home, getting ready for the holiday with his wife. Bethany was scheduled to fly in with Allie in two days, on Christmas. But given the circumstances, Kurt wasn't sure he was going to make it til then.
Weller kept reminding himself Remi hadn't killed him despite the months they'd been together. But, then again, that was all before he found out who she really was, and before she'd committed a terrorist act.
Yet when he glanced behind his shoulder at her, Kurt's worry was almost entirely about how pale she looked, not about being shot in the back.
The approach to the militia base was quiet but Weller was on high alert. Even though their intel suggested that most of the group would be off base that day, it was still extremely risky just to be on militia land. If they were found on that property they would likely be executed immediately, even if they successfully passed themselves off as lost civilians.
Remi was silent, so deft with her steps that she disappeared behind him unless he turned to watch her. At which point she would question him with her eyes, asking him what gave him the right to still care.
He told himself they had to find a cure, if he was to ever get Jane back. But Weller knew, deep down, that he would be doing this even if there wasn't any way to bring back Jane's personality and memories. No matter what she'd done, who she'd been – he didn't want her to die.
Again he glanced back, seeing that Remi had sharpened now that they were nearing their target. When she looked to him this time, her expression was all business, completely focused on the mission.
Kurt hated knowing that she had fooled him for so long, despite all her strange behaviour and his suspicions. Yet they had still fit so seamlessly together in the field, where so much of everything was based on instinct. Even after they'd been forced into that warehouse situation, they'd managed to cooperate and remain alive.
Shaking his head of all those thoughts, Weller waited for Remi to move ahead before sliding along to meet her by the electric fence, in a dead spot between security cameras. They were meant to momentarily cut the power and slip into the main base, then extract the cache from a secret compartment in the vault.
But that all went to shit when, right then, a gate in the fence was triggered and a pack of attack dogs came charging out of the compound towards them.
Weller fought the instinct to run, then pulled out his gun and looked at it with a frown. The dogs were getting close but when he looked over at Remi she hadn't raised her weapon either. Replacing his gun in his holster, he then took two other weapons off his belt and passed one to Remi.
"Patterson said there might be dogs," he said, loading up the tranq gun.
He saw a flash of relief in Remi's eyes and quickly wondered at the fact that she could condemn innocent civilians to death in her terrorist plots but was loath to kill a guard dog. Then they knelt, side by side and started firing at the dogs until the entire pack had been knocked out.
For a moment, there was quiet, before sound trickled in with a roar. More barking, more dogs, the rumble of vehicles and voices of men.
The intel had obviously been completely off, or maybe it was a setup. Either way, they were about to pay with their lives.
A second, larger pack of dogs was charging at them as Weller and Remi looked at each other, realizing they were nearly out of tranq darts and needed to save their ammo as much as possible. They hadn't come loaded up for a gunfight, it had been meant to be a sneak in and out type of mission.
"Run!" he shouted, pushing her in front of him as he ran in the general direction of their exfil point. Though of course they had to lose the dogs and any possible human pursuers before getting picked up.
His wife had always been a faster runner than him, yet Weller found himself catching up as they tore through the forest, unable to even look behind and see if they were being pursued by an entire militia. He absolutely did not want to think about what would happen to them if they were caught, the things a horde of militia members might do to her before they were both executed.
Then he saw her miss a step and stumble. But instead of the regular sleek recovery she would usually make, Remi slipped again and fell, unable to get her hands out before her chin hit the ground with a resounding thud.
*
She was running from the pack of attack dogs and mentally swearing at her little brother for setting her up from beyond the grave when Remi's head suddenly exploded in pain and her eyesight became blurry.
Stumbling on her next step, she looked around, confused. Weller was passing her, which should have pissed her off. But it was hard to care when she was possibly having a brain aneurysm and couldn't find her footing because the ground seemed to be moving beneath her. And then, just as she realized she was falling, Remi wondered if she was going to die there, torn apart by dogs in the New Hampshire woods.
Belatedly, she thrust her hands out but still fell to her knees; then her chin landed solidly on a rock in the earth and darkness washed over her for just an instant. It was long enough that she should have felt the clamp of a dog's jaw on her leg, yet when she finally managed to open her eyes, Weller was already hauling her to her feet, holding her by the waist while turning to fire a tranq dart into the neck of the lead dog.
Then he was pushing her ahead of him, shouting at her to keep running even as the next dogs were closing in. Remi did as she was told, forcing herself forward, through the frozen landscape. Then, for awhile, everything was just a mash of sensations; the pain in her head and the blur of the forest and the growls of the dogs and Weller shouting. She realized she could barely hear him anymore and instinctively stopped, looking for any sign of him, missing the solid feeling of having him there to hold her up.
She knew she shouldn't pause for anything, especially not for a man who was likely to arrest her the moment they got out of their current predicament. But then there was a gunshot and Remi froze in her spot, a feeling of dread spreading over her until a large form came barrelling directly at her.
"Keep running!" Kurt bellowed, the sound of his voice settling her sudden anxiety.
Remi turned and did her best to pick up her pace, feeling a little better now that she could hear Weller behind her again. They ran through the frosty woods together, in the vague direction of their eventual exfil point. Her head did not feel good but she'd been through a lot worse and she refused to give into the pain as Weller kept pushing her forward.
Eventually they came to a shallow creek and silently agreed to run upstream for awhile in an attempt to lose the dogs. The water was freezing, due to it being late December in New Hampshire, but Remi determinedly slogged through it, soaked to above her knees.
When the creek got even deeper, she made the executive decision to get out of the water and started her way up the riverbank. They needed to stop and reassess the situation now that the chase was over. Remi looked back at that thought, double-checking that there weren't any dogs or enemies behind them. But all she saw Weller, two feet behind her and watching her intently, ready to catch her if she slipped again.
Remi blinked, her vision swaying for a moment. Then as her sight came back online, she frowned. There was a suspicious cloud of colour around Weller as he exited the water and she was fairly sure he was trying to conceal a limp.
Which shouldn't matter, she remembered. If he was hurt she could take advantage of the situation and incapacitate him completely before showing up at the evac site alone and saying he'd pushed her ahead and then never caught up.
It didn't matter that he could have left her to the dogs when she fell, that he was even here taking this chance on her. Or that Christmas was in two days and his daughter was flying in. He should be preparing for her visit, not running around in the woods with a criminal, trying to cure her of a terminal disease.
What the hell was wrong with him?
And what the hell was wrong with her?
She had a gun, she could turn and shoot him at any moment. They hadn't gotten the cache, if it was even there at all. Which meant she could get rid of him anytime, technically the sooner the better.
Yet Remi found herself staring at his blood in the water, struggling to tamp down how sick it made her feel. She blamed it on the ZIP but nevertheless she was still fighting the queasiness when Weller ran up to her, his eyes full of concern.
"Are you okay?" he asked, placing a hand on her hip for a brief moment before quickly pulling it away.
"I'm fine," Remi replied instantly, the way she'd been trained to.
They both knew she was lying and Kurt's frown deepened. Standing there with soaking wet pants and starting to freeze, Remi felt raw in every way. She'd been exposed and still he had such empathy in his eyes.
She hated that she wanted him to respect her, that it mattered at all what Kurt Weller thought of her. Looking down the riverbank at him she could even see him remember that she was the enemy, that she could easily shoot him right then and his body would float away down the creek.
But when her hand reached out, it didn't have a weapon in it, nor did it shove him off the rocky bank. And then it was out her mouth before she knew it, a blur of words that she couldn't take back.
"But you're not. I saw that pathetic attempt to hide your limp."
*
The icy water of the creek was brutal at first but at least it numbed Kurt's bleeding calf. One of the dogs had managed to get a good grip on his leg while he was dealing with another one and the wound was starting to pulsate badly as his adrenaline wore off.
It had all happened so fast he hadn't even had a chance to look at the damage before they were walking in thigh-deep water and his injured leg became frozen enough to ignore. But still, Weller knew the dog's teeth had gone in deep enough to be a problem going forward. Especially considering his lack of confidence in Remi's cooperation. Even though she was sick herself, she could easily still kill him or ditch him and come up with a plausible story to cover her tracks and then run off completely.
He pushed himself to keep up with Remil's pace through the creek, wondering in the back of his mind how much blood he was losing. He still felt okay for the moment, just a bit tired from pushing through the water - or at least that's what he told himself. Yet Weller was relieved when he saw Remi head out of the creek when the water inched up above his thighs. If he was beginning to feel the effort, then Remi had to be struggling as well. Though she didn't seem to have any problems forging through the water, he worried about how much her body could take. Especially now knowing how bad her symptoms were, realizing she'd been lying to him about how ill she was for months.
As he climbed out of the creek, slipping a bit due to the weakness in his right leg, Remi peered over the top of the riverbank to check for their pursuers. For a moment Weller was relieved that she hadn't noticed his injury yet, even though it was going to fairly obvious as soon as they were on dry land. He needed to be wary of showing any weakness when he couldn't fully trust his partner.
But then Remi turned towards him again with a frown, her pallor a bit grey, and Weller automatically rushed up to her, ready to catch her if she stumbled.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Looking up, Weller realized that his hand had instinctively planted itself on Remi's hip and he had to quickly pull it back before she rightfully snapped at him. She wasn't his wife so he didn't have consent to grab her. And he shouldn't want to touch her, to look after her so desperately that he had put himself in a compromised position, being out there with her looking for a cure.
"I'm fine," she replied right away, her tone defensive as always.
Kurt frowned, irritated at himself for caring so much still, for letting it hurt. He tried to prepare himself for the worst, suddenly realizing that she could easily push him back into the water from her position and he would likely be washed down the creek. She had only stuck around to find the cure and now that he knew who she really was, her position was untenable. It only made sense to kill him as soon as possible, especially if she wasn't feeling well.
Remi reached out her hand and he flinched, ready to defend himself. But instead of shoving him, her arm stayed extended, seemingly in an offer of assistance. And then, when she next spoke, her tone was overly sharp in an attempt to cover up the concern in her words.
"But you're not. I saw that pathetic attempt to hide your limp."
Weller let her help him up the steep bank, still in denial about the wound in his leg even though it throbbed enough to hobble him. The entire mission had already been such a failure; being hurt and further endangering both of them was something he just didn't want to think about yet.
"It's nothing," he muttered.
"So then it's not going to hold us up right?" she countered.
Weller groaned internally, feeling his frustration with the situation rise as he recognized that the most prudent course of action was to take the time to deal with the damage now that their pursuers weren't right on them anymore. Even though he didn't want to stop for anything or show any more weaknesses that Remi could exploit.
He was still working on how to admit to his problem when Remi rolled her eyes and gave him a hard stare. Yet the way she kept looking down at his leg seemed to indicate more concern than irritation. And though her next words were harshly demanding, he thought the edge was there only to cover up a degree of real worry.
"Stop trying to protect your ego and sit down so I can take a look at it."
Kurt sighed and sheepishly sat down on the frozen ground, doing his best not to grunt with the effort of bending his injured leg. He had to remind himself to breathe as his calf pulsated with the movement and he reached down to apply pressure to the wound, only to find Remi's hands already there, briskly rolling up his wet pant leg for inspection.
When the bite mark was finally exposed, Weller felt his stomach turn. The tear in his muscle was bleeding profusely and was nearly an inch wide and over three inches long. It hadn't felt that bad while he was running but now that the adrenaline was fading from his system, he was finally realizing the extent of the damage.
Weller even heard Remi's breath catch as she stared at the gash in his calf before looking up at him with a stern frown. Her eyes expressed everything she didn't say, including shock and worry at the size of the injury. But then she immediately got to work on dealing with the problem, promptly removing her shirt and tearing it into strips before wrapping the fabric around his leg to close the wound and apply pressure to slow the bleeding.
"Is that too tight?" she asked as she wrenched on the makeshift bandage and tied it down.
Kurt shook his head, not sure he trusted his voice. His calf already felt like it was on fire and the added pressure just made the pain pulsate more forcibly. But he knew it was essential to keep the bleeding to a minimum if they were going to make it to their exfil point.
"I think that should hold for awhile," Remi said, making one final knot and giving him an appraising eye.
He must have looked as rough as he felt because she studied him closely, as if trying to figure out how incapacitated he was. Determined to prove his worth, Weller then tried to stand before he was fully ready for the effort and immediately paid the price as his muscle screamed and he fell back onto his ass.
He expected Remi to be smirking at his performance but instead her brow was furrowed in concern.
"That was stupid, Weller. That bite is deep. It must hurt like hell."
*
The tear in his leg had been worse than she'd expected, enough to make her flinch when she took in the damage. Remi tried to fight back with all her usual tactics - telling herself that he deserved that and worse, that this was all his idea anyhow. Yet she couldn't stop thinking about it even as they got moving again and even kept having to remind herself not to look back at Weller too often.
When she did allow herself to glance back at him, he was always alert and moving okay, diligently covering their rear while stealing his own peeks her way. At first, it had taken him a few missteps to figure out how to compensate for the injury, and she had nearly put her arm around him in support before reminding herself she wasn't playing the supportive wife anymore.
Instead, Remi had silently taken the lead to prevent herself from acting on her instincts. But even so, she recognized that she had carefully set a pace that wouldn't be too hard on Weller's leg. Because his bloody calf, seemingly torn to shreds, still loomed large in her mind.
Realizing she was worried about Weller and catering to his needs just made Remi even more annoyed with herself, and soon she noticed that she had upped her pace in response. Her constant headache had grown in proportion with the effort she was exerting and then a sudden spike of blinding pain forced her to stop for a moment and breathe through the agony.
When the explosion in her head finally subsided and her vision returned to normal, Remi looked behind her again and couldn't see Weller anymore. Her chest clenched tight as she scanned the terrain for any sight of him and possible scenarios started cascading through her mind.
It felt as if her worry was completely out of control and Remi briefly wondered if the ZIP was making her mind weaker, less able to hold onto all her rage. It had to be something biological, nothing else could explain the dissonance she felt. She hated him, wanted revenge for everything he'd done to her family. The thought of him falling behind enough to die alone in those woods, either of blood loss or infection or domestic terrorist, should have filled her with elation.
Yet the feeling in her heart when he finally stumbled out of the woods and into view was undeniably pure relief.
Biting down hard on her reaction, Remi forced her eyes off of him even as she noted that his limp had gotten worse again. Pushing back on the desire to run back and check on him, Remi forced herself to ignore her urge; trying instead to occupy her mind by scanning the terrain ahead.
They were still following the course of the river, just from within the cover of the trees. By her estimate, there wasn't far to go until they had to turn away from water and head towards their exfil site. And, thankfully, when she scanned the area in front of them, there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary.
That was until she heard a high pitched whine coming from the creek. The sound was mostly muffled by the roar of the water but it was enough to catch Remi's attention and she quickly tried to locate the source of the noise.
When she finally saw the puppy barely hanging onto a rock in the middle of the river, a flood of protectiveness washed over her and Remi was running towards the drowning dog without a second thought.
She didn't even have time to consider how irrational her actions were before she was already waist deep in the river again and starting to swim. It was further than it had looked and by the time she reached the puppy, Remi was already half frozen. Still, she managed to pull the panicked creature into her arms and propelled herself away from the rocks, using a powerful side stroke to get close enough to shore to push the dog onto dry land just before the river got rough again.
Initially Remi was unable to fight through the current as she was carried further down the creek and struggled just to keep her head above the water. For a moment she even felt a flash of panic, wondering if she'd just made an incredibly stupid final mistake.
She could feel herself getting weaker as hypothermia took over her body and she tried to find the will to make one more surge for the shore. The noise of the creek was all she could sense and Remi felt it dragging her down even as she thrashed desperately to keep afloat.
That was until another sound finally burst through, a voice she knew, shouting her name in pure panic, telling her to hold on. And she understood instantly, without a doubt, that he was about to jump in the river to save her, after having just run a great distance on his injured leg.
She doubted he would be strong enough to swim her to safety even if he didn't have a bloody hole in his leg. And there was no way she was going to let make such a stupid choice.
Remi pushed her head above water and sucked in as much air as she could. Then, gathering together all her strength and desperation, she plunged in once more.
*
He watched her go under again and his heart forgot to beat.
Weller's throat was hoarse from screaming Remi's name and his entire body pulsated with the pain of his leg. Yet he kept running towards the river, marking the spot where he'd last seen her and trying to determine the best place to jump in for a rescue attempt.
He hadn't seen any sign of her for over a minute by the time he'd reached the edge of the creek and dread started to shoot up his spine as he continually scanned the water for any indication that she was still alive. Weller resisted the extreme temptation to just leap in anyways, forcibly reminding himself that he needed to act rationally even though fear kept trying to hijack him.
Then, just when he couldn't wait another moment without acting, Kurt spotted movement downriver and watched as Remi barely managed to grab onto a large stump protruding out of the riverbank.
Immediately he started running again, barely noticing the agony in his calf as he fixated on the sight of his wife weakly pulling herself to shore. By the time he reached her, Remi had just dragged herself onto land and collapsed in a shivering heap. Weller ignored the screaming of his leg as he fell to his knees beside her, panic still overriding everything else.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he gasped, brushing the wet hair off her face and running his thumb over her cheek.
Her only response was to shiver harder, her eyes shut tight and her entire body curled up as tightly as possible. Kurt wanted to clasp her to him, cradle her tight. But he knew he had to get her dry first, or else she'd never warm up.
"I need to get you out of your wet clothes," he said into her ear, hoping that she was still conscious enough to hear him.
Remi made a slight movement with her head that he took to be a nod and Weller immediately went to work unlacing her sodden boots, then pulling off her pants. When her legs were bare he wrapped them as best he could in his jacket and then gently pulled her soaking sweater, tshirt and bra over her head until she was naked on top as well. Quickly he helped her slip his own sweater on and then he covered her wet hair with his hat.
Once Remi was relatively dry and covered, Weller exhaled a long breath of relief. She was alive. Now he just had to warm her up.
It scared him how docile she'd been as he'd undressed her; it made him realize how hypothermic she already was. And now, as he gathered her into his arms, she burrowed into him, exactly as Jane would.
His heart sagged, remembering that it wasn't really his wife; Remi was acting on bare animal instincts just trying to get warm by accessing his body heat. Yet he couldn't resist nuzzling his lips against the back of her neck as he held her tight.
They laid there like that for awhile, Remi silent and shivering under all his clothes, Weller down to just his Henley. His heart was still pounding, wondering if she was going to wake up when he sensed something approaching and reached for his weapon while turning his head to identify the threat.
At first he panicked at the sight of a quickly approaching ball of fur, suddenly feeling the tear in his leg for the first time in awhile. But by the puppy pounced onto them, Kurt was grinning despite having a wet dog crawling all over him. Then, when the dog immediately went to work licking Remi's face, his chest flushed with warmth at the scene.
It only took a few enthusiastic licks to get Remi's eyes fluttering open, her expression wary and defensive at first. But then she saw the puppy and he could see her remembering what had just happened as her eyes flashed between him and the dog.
He had so many things he wanted to say to her. That she had scared him to death; that she'd done something rash and stupid; that he was both inordinately proud of her and angry with her all at once. But she wasn't his so he forced his mouth shut.
What came out instead made him cringe, recognizing that his affectionate tone and cheesy words would likely trigger the terrorist in Jane's body. Still, it was entirely true, even if it wasn't something he meant to say.
"Looks like you made a friend."
*
"Looks like you made a friend," Weller commented, like he was reading from a cheesy kid’s book.
And on top of how ridiculous as his words were, his eyes shone with such sincere affection. God she hated being his wife. It hurt just knowing how much he loved Jane, understanding everything she would never have.
All her instincts told her to push away from him and curl up on her own. But she had neither the strength nor the will to do it. Instead, Remi settled for telling herself she was just using him for his warmth - gathering energy until she could get free of his arms.
Letting herself sink back into Weller's embrace, she tried to remind herself how much she once hated the tightness with which he'd hold her. But then her traitorous mind flashed to all those times she'd too genuinely thrown herself into his arms after a close call or an emotional moment. Because there was safety there too, a feeling she'd never previously known. And it was impossible to resist, despite how reluctant Remi was to admit it.
The puppy kept lapping at her face, like he really was expressing gratitude for being rescued from the river. His warm breath and tongue pressing against her cheek until she felt herself smiling at the situation and reached out to pet the soggy creature.
Looking back at her actions, Remi knew she'd acted completely irrationally. She wanted to blame it on her brain malfunctioning of late but really it had just been instinctual. She couldn't watch a defenseless pup die without making any effort to save it. Which, of course, didn't make sense considering how many innocent people she was willing to sacrifice for the greater good. Yet it wasn't in her to just walk by a situation where she could save a life.
Even if it had ended up more harrowing than she'd expected, the river much stronger than she'd anticipated. The cold had nearly gotten to her by the time she'd finally managed to haul herself to shore. And if it hadn't been for Weller, she would still have succumbed to hypothermia just lying there in wet clothing on the riverbank.
He was probably now the one freezing, down to just his shirt; his own pants and boots still wet from walking in the creek. But his breath was nice and hot against the back of her neck. And thankfully he'd stopped cooing at her for the moment so she could just shiver against him in silence, soaking in the warmth of his embrace.
Eventually the dog snuggled himself against her too; curling up against her legs after Weller plunked him down on the jacket covering her, so she wouldn't be exposed to any wet fur. And even though Remi knew she should be trying to get up and keep moving; she couldn't muster the will with Weller draped all over her.
She wasn't sure how long they lay there for; drowsiness making her mind drift between states of consciousness while Weller did his best to warm her up. She didn't resist even when he started murmuring soft, encouraging words at her again; acting ridiculously sweet despite the fact that he had to be incredibly cold and uncomfortable himself.
Eventually Remi felt her thoughts becoming more lucid, even had enough energy to try blinking her eyes open for a second. What she saw made her frown; it was dusk already, which meant they didn't have much time to make it to the exfil site. The helicopter was coming for them as soon as it was dark enough and would likely only be able to make one attempt. The militia had RPGs and the risk of getting shot down was too high to make a second pass.
What the hell was Weller thinking, letting her lie there for that long? They needed to get moving if they were going to make their target.
But when Remi opened her mouth to say so, the words didn't come out the way she planned - far too dull and slurred to express her urgency. Then it took her equally slow brain awhile to realize that Weller hadn't gotten going because she'd been too hypothermic to move.
There was a good chance they were going to die in enemy territory, either by exposure or execution. And it was all her fault. Yet he hadn't left her there alone, as he clearly should have. He was frozen and injured, needed to get moving if he had any hope of surviving their ordeal. So she needed to get her shit together, no matter how sluggish her body felt.
Remi squirmed in an attempt to move her arms and Weller responded by hugging her even tighter, kissing her on the back of the neck again.
"Hey there," he said. "You awake?"
She could hear the upward curve of his lips in the way he said it, feel it in the softness of his breath against her skin.
Remi nodded and tried to move again, but Weller continued to completely envelop her, clearly not ready to let go yet.
"We should get going if we can," he whispered into her ear and slightly calming her nerves. At least he'd recognized the issue, even if he hadn't acted accordingly yet.
"Do you think you can stand if I help you up?"
Remi nodded again and got another kiss on her neck in return. He was goddamned pretending that she was Jane and she didn't have the strength to fight him. At least that's what she kept telling herself, over the rush of warmth brought on by his lips against her skin.
"I'm going to help you back into your pants and boots first, okay?"
The thought of putting wet gear back on was nearly soul crushing but better than trying to walk through the woods half-naked. Remi steeled herself for it yet it was still distressing when Weller pulled himself away from her and she immediately missed his warmth.
He dressed her quickly, despite her lack of ability to help; getting her into her pants and boots before putting her arms into his jacket and zipping her in. Her limbs still felt as if they weren't her own, unable to respond to the requests her brain was making. But it was somehow okay, and she wasn't panicked at all. If nothing else, she trusted Weller.
It was a fucking weird feeling, letting someone take care of her. But the hypothermia had sapped away her fight and her body was hungry for warmth and safety.
Very slowly, he helped her sit up; stopping to rub her shoulder in encouragement before gently tugging her to her feet. His arms were wrapped around her ribs but even so Remi felt herself wobble, her legs shamefully weak in the moment.
"It's okay, I've got you," Weller murmured in her ear, causing a traitorous flush of warmth down her spine.
They stayed standing like that for what felt like much too long, but really it was only a few minutes until she felt a bit of equilibrium return, some feeling finally returning to her body.
"Ready," she grumbled, even though she wasn't really.
Weller's only response was to squeeze her tight, kiss her in that goddamned spot yet again.
*
"Ready," she said, as soon as she'd stopped shaking in his arms.
He allowed her lie slide by without a comment because they had to get moving or they weren't going to make it to the exfil site on time. Still, instead of letting her go, he found himself pulling her to him even more firmly, his lips once again drifting over the cold affected skin on the back of her neck.
Weller even groaned internally as he kissed her, torn by the confusion in his soul. Yet he couldn't stop himself, his mouth seemingly determined to nuzzle the back of her neck even though his rational brain kept trying to remind him that she wasn't Jane and he had no right to her body.
More shockingly, Remi hadn't shown any sign of resistance to his actions. Instead, she'd seemed perfectly happy to let him hold her. Which he mostly attributed to her dire need for warmth and his body being her only accessible supply. Yet that didn't explain why he found himself caring about her so desperately, a feeling far beyond just needing her physical body to survive their ordeal.
She was a terrorist; one that had been plotting against them the entire time and seemingly felt no guilt about any of her actions. He should hate her for everything, especially for co-opting Jane's brain and playing him for months. And yet, he felt for her so strongly, this fierce angry version of his wife. Who was willing to kill anyone who got in her way but had nearly just died to save a random puppy. It wasn't quite love but it sure wasn't hate either.
"We need to go," Remi muttered, though her body didn't express the same impatience as her voice. The words even came out slowly, slurred by the cold and barely a whisper.
Weller sighed.
She was right, of course. So he moved to her side, slipping his arm around Remi's waist while eyeing her critically. She swayed a bit with less physical support but battled through it and took a step forward as Weller hovered, ready to catch her despite the renewed throbbing in his own leg.
He'd nearly forgotten about that problem until they'd stood up again, but the streaking pain that erupted from the wound had quickly reminded him of the situation. Still, he wasn't going to let his injury hold them up, not when Remi could barely stay on her own feet.
She led the way away from the river with small unsteady steps and both Weller and the puppy followed right behind, with equal devotion. He could see from her frown that she hadn't considered that variable and he cringed, knowing what had to be done.
The dog was a liability, likely to give away their presence and location. They had to leave him behind, no matter how cute the little ball of fur was.
Remi gave him a pleading look, telling him silently that she didn't have the heart to deal with the issue. So Weller opened a bag of emergency rations and put it down, knowing that the smell of beef jerky would attract the dog to it. Then, while the dog was busy examining the food, Kurt slipped a piece of nylon cord over his head and tied him to a nearby tree.
The pup was so busy trying to get to the food that he barely noticed when they snuck away, giving them a couple of parting glances while devouring chunks of dried meat. Still, Weller felt unreasonably regretful at having to leave the dog, especially when he caught Remi also looking back with a sheen of sadness in her eyes.
Eventually she stopped glancing backwards and seemed to redirect all her strength into pushing her trembling body through the woods. But despite her iron will, Remi was clearly having a hard time maintaining even a slow pace with her unsteady steps. A few times Weller had to force himself not to intervene when she stumbled and swore, relegated to watching fretfully as she pushed herself back up despite her obviously sagging energy.
But it wasn't until Remi tripped over some rocks and nearly fell face first onto them that he let himself reach for her, panic quickly overriding all of his self-control. Weller reeled her in tightly as she fought for her balance, just managing to steady them both.
"Whoa, are you okay?" he asked.
"Mmm fine," Remi growled, but only making a superficial effort at pushing him away.
"Maybe we should take a break and try to get you warmer first," Weller said, frowning. He'd hoped that moving would help bring her body temperature up but the pace they'd been going at, combined with the low temperature and her wet pants, hadn't been enough to make that happen.
"No time."
She was right. They needed to keep moving even if it was at the slow speed they'd been going at.
Weller eyed Remi carefully and saw how exhausted she was; so pale she looked ghostly. She was so hypothermic she wasn't even shivering anymore and he was just wondering how she was still on her feet when her knees started to buckle.
Without thinking, Weller reached out and scooped her into his arms. Then he ground his jaw together stubbornly and stood up.
*
Remi would have been apoplectic if only she had the energy; even so, she felt an intense impulse to launch her elbow at Weller's nose as he picked her up and cradled her against his chest. Yet, when she finally got her arm to respond, all she managed was a feeble push that did not at all express her anger at the situation.
A slow battle then ensued in her cold-affected neurons, indignation fighting against exhaustion until she was distracted by a grunt of pain and a slight wobble as Weller pushed to his feet.
Her dulled brain had forgotten about the gash in his leg but now that she'd been reminded of it, Remi felt her irritation flare once more. And even though she wanted to direct her anger at Weller's overly protective actions, she knew it was mostly self-recrimination for not having already insisted on being put down.
But she was so cold and tired. And Kurt was so warm.
Yet still, she had to try. All of her upbringing insisted on it, demanded that she regain physical control of her own body. It was weakness to allow anyone to take care of her. She'd learned early with Shepherd that there were no excuses. Even as a child, Remi had been expected to be self-sufficient, with no allowances for being injured or sick.
So she'd never been comfortable with being taken care of, hadn't ever really allowed it in her life. But all that pretending to be Jane, weak and needing his comfort; it had introduced her to the other side.
Being fawned over and cooed at after a particularly bad nightmare; locked in the safety of Weller's arms instead of gripping herself tight in the corner of a room, refusing to be touched. At first it had been torture in itself. Until she realized how easily his presence settled her, how his warm solidness took the edge off her flashback induced panic.
Then, it was just a matter of telling herself she was doing it to maintain her cover. And even now, Remi wanted to be angry at her body for failing her, being so weak that she couldn't defeat his comfort. She needed to at least put up some kind of a fight.
"I can walk," she muttered, flicking her eyes open in an attempt to emphasize her statement.
"I know," Weller replied, his breath hot against her temple. "But we're almost there. You should conserve your strength in case there's contact along the way."
He was lying of course. Both about the distance and his intentions if it came down to a shootout. No doubt he'd cover her body with his, hoping that she'd be too weak to push off his mass until it was all over.
But at least he'd given her a story that she could tell herself, a way to hang onto her dignity while accepting his help. And, truly, it had taken everything she had to just stay upright and put one foot in front of the other. The thought of having to let go of her heat source and finding the strength to walk again was extremely uninviting. Especially when she didn't even have the energy to shiver anymore, her body shutting down as her core temperature kept falling.
So, instead of forcing him to put her down, Remi found herself reaching around his neck and nestling in closer. Weller responded to her silent acquiescence by pulling her in even tighter and exhaling in relief.
"I'm going to get you warm and I'm going to get us out of here," he said.
*
Weller looked up at the sky and calculated how much time they had left before their rendezvous with the helicopter. Dusk had descended upon them just a few minutes ago and soon it would dark enough for the pick up.
By his figuring, he still had half an hour to get to the exfil site, which was just under a mile away. It would take a solid effort considering his flagging strength, all his physical reserves nearly depleted after everything that had already happened.
At least he was fairly warm again now that they were moving and he had Remi in his arms. Weller tried not to worry about how bad she must be feeling to let him carry her. Even Jane would have balked at the idea unless things were dire. But for Remi to show any weakness seemed unthinkable.
As if reading his thoughts, Remi muttered against his chest and settled in his arms. Of course it was just the hypothermia making her so docile. Yet that thought sparked a flash of protectiveness in him that fueled him forward through the woods.
Weller limped on, gritting his teeth each time he had to put weight on his injured leg. He tried to numb out the pain by fixating on his task, cradling his wife and keeping her warm. It helped to think of her like that, even though she wasn't Jane. At least Remi didn't seem to be so angry anymore, her body no longer stiff with resentment. And, he'd already come to accept that he'd still be desperate to save her, even if it wasn't his only chance at getting Jane back.
Desperation could only fuel him so far, though. Weller had made about half the distance when a misplaced step on his bad leg nearly sent them both tumbling and he panicked, thinking that he was going to fall and crush Remi beneath him.
In the end, Kurt stumbled a few steps but managed to stay on his feet long enough to catch his balance, clutching Remi to him as his leg exploded with pain. Dropping to his knees, Weller held himself together long enough to put Remi down carefully before curling up and grabbing at his damaged calf.
Weller was unable to suppress a loud groan as he clutched his leg and tried to breathe through the agony. Paradoxically, the wound hadn't felt so bad while walking - he'd been able to block it out with all his worry about keeping Remi alive until they got to the exfil site. But now that they'd stopped, the throbbing in his calf reverberated throughout his body and it became impossible to do anything but bite down on his pain, and try to not make too much noise.
Even as it seemed to burn with a new intensity, Weller told himself he just needed to breathe through it and he'd be okay to continue.
The wave of agony had nearly passed when he heard the rustling noise approaching. Weller opened his eyes and saw that Remi had pushed herself up onto her elbow, not even fully conscious yet also tense with worry.
They eyed each other warily and Weller drew his weapon as the sound got closer. Even if it was only one militiaman he knew they didn't have much chance at winning the battle, considering their medical conditions. Remi had clearly come to the same conclusion as she was fumbling with her weapon and trying to stand but had only managed to get to her hands and knees.
Weller stood, his leg now easily ignored again as he put his hand on Remi's shoulder and tried to push her back down. For a moment she resisted, glancing up at him with an irritated furrow in her brow. But her body couldn't sustain the battle and she growled a sigh before finally letting him press her against the cold ground.
He went down on one knee, reaching down to pull Remi in tightly while also trying to maintain a position between her and their pursuer. In the dim light it was hard to see how close the enemy was, though Kurt could still hear footsteps approaching.
It wasn't until the sound got closer that it became clear the noise wasn't human and again Weller's mind flashed back to the back of dogs. Even one guard dog could give them significant trouble at the moment, and if a dog was that close then humans were likely just behind too. So shooting the creature would lead the militia right to them.
He could see Remi realize the same thing, despite the slowing effect of hypothermia on her thoughts. Her eyes filled with concern and she gripped her weapon, ready to defend them even though her frozen hands probably didn't have the dexterity and strength to pull the trigger.
Admiration and affection flooded through him as Weller steeled himself for the encounter. And even though he knew he was acting irrationally, his emotions were resolute. Logically, he should leave her there as a diversion for the militia and get himself to the exfil site. Staying and sacrificing himself to save a terrorist was totally crazy. Yet Kurt knew that he would stop at nothing to protect her and give her the chance to get out.
He allowed himself one more glance down at Remi to reinforce his will and found her looking back at him, wearing an exasperated expression. No doubt she was annoyed at her situation, particularly having to let him protect her.
"Don't worry," he said. "Everything's going to be okay."
*
"Don't worry," Weller said. "Everything's going to be okay."
It wasn't though. Not if the dogs had found them again.
The militia could be descending on them within minutes, would force them into a last stand that wouldn't take long. Even if Weller seemed, against all sense, determined to stay and cover her.
He was still mobile enough to get to the exfil site on his own in time. Strategically, he should leave her there to be captured and interrogated while he made his escape. Yet he continued to kneel beside her, grim determination on his face.
The man was impossibly stupid, stubborn beyond hope.
She was probably going to watch him die. The thought should have filled her with satisfaction, even if her own death was likely soon to follow. Yet the idea of seeing him ripped apart by dogs or riddled with bullet wounds and bleeding out made her shudder hard, her frozen body somehow feeling even colder.
So as the noise came even closer, rustling in the woods right in front of them, Remi's hypothermic brain cobbled together a simple plan. Even without any resources and barely enough body heat to stay alive, she couldn't let him do something so incredibly idiotic. Not when she was going to die of ZIP poison soon anyways, any possibility of a cure now seemingly lost for good.
She forced herself to concentrate despite the effort it took with her cold-dulled mind. She would be lucky to have the energy to even make one attempt, so she had to make it count.
The dog tracking them was almost through the brush, less than ten feet away when Remi silently sprung herself in its direction. She felt Weller try to stop her but he'd been so focused on watching the forest that she was out of his reach by the time he grabbed for her. Then two steps later she threw herself at the mass of fur that came hurtling out of the woods, timing the move perfectly and making very little sound.
She had expected the impact of a full grown guard dog but found herself restraining a very confused puppy who wouldn't stop wiggling against her and nipping at her face.
Relief and irritated amusement flooded through her as Remi released the puppy and watched him run over to sniff at Weller before returning to her side. The little guy was clearly loyal, taking his place right by her as Remi pushed herself into a half-seated position. And, even better, he'd dried off a bit and was warm.
She couldn't resist wrapping her arms around the pup and pulling him to her, drawn by both his need and hers. The furry beast had no problem with the arrangement and snuggled right into her, nudging her chin with his nose as she ran her numb hands through his fur.
Remi felt Weller approach and glanced up to see that he was still watching the forest warily. But then he turned to look at her and broke into a smile full of affection and amused relief. And though her instinct was still to pull back and slam down her emotional walls, Remi found herself offering him a wry grin in return.
She'd seriously shown her hand and should have been angry at herself for so many things. Yet, in that moment Remi didn't even care that she was acting so absurdly around Weller - she just didn't have the energy to judge herself the way she normally would.
So, for once, she didn't even bother resisting when he draped himself over her back, covering her with his warmth and pulling her into him. The game was up, at least until they got out of there. After they were both safe she could screw her head back on straight and figure out her next moves.
"We have to move," he said, sounding as reluctant as she felt about leaving their current position.
He was right of course. Even her cold affected mind knew they were running out of time.
The soldier in her kicked in at that point, lifelong training telling her to get up while she had the energy to do so. They didn't have long to make it out and Remi was determined to walk herself to the exfil site no matter how much the hypothermia wanted her to rest and let Weller take care of everything. They were partners in this; he'd taken a huge risk taking her out there, all in the hope of saving her life. And despite the poor intel, things had only really gone sideways because she'd done something incredibly rash.
"I know," she muttered. "I can walk."
He tugged her in closer and she could feel all his doubt and worry as he breathed against the back of her neck. But he didn't argue and instead started standing with his arms still wrapped around her ribs.
Remi let him pull her to her feet but once they were upright he didn't let go. Which, she had to admit, was a relief. Despite her assertion, her frozen body was clumsy and she was having trouble finding her balance.
"Okay. But we walk like this," he replied, still hugging her to her to him both arms.
The arrangement sounded awkward and made her feel weak. But it turned out that slow-stepping forward with Weller draped all over her filled Remi with a much needed warmth. Even before he brushed his lips against the nape of her neck and set all of her nerves tingling.
"Sorry," he said, as soon as he'd done it. "I need to stop that."
It took all the willpower she had left to stay silent as her body begged him to never stop.
*
"Sorry," he said, pulling back and wincing. "I need to stop that."
It was so hard for his body to remember that she wasn't Jane. That he had to keep his lips to himself and was supposed to resist the intense desire to touch her.
Weller was surprised Remi hadn't demanded it herself but had just figured it was due to the hypothermia. But then she'd tried to put herself between him and an oncoming attack, leaving him confused as hell.
He'd assumed she'd been accepting his help due to complete exhaustion and a fierce desire to make it out alive. But now he didn't know what to think, how to feel. She was a criminal that had been sabotaging them from the inside for months. Rationally, he should hate her. Yet his heart ached for her almost as badly as if she were really his wife.
She'd been traumatized and abused as a young child, then raised by a sociopathic domestic terrorist. Her own government had tried to murder her after she'd escaped her past and risked her life for her country. That was what he hated, not her. All the things that had happened to her to skew her sense of right and wrong, all the ways in which she'd been hurt.
Not that Weller could ever condone the path she'd chosen, all the lives she'd been willing to sacrifice to her cause. But he could also see the pain that had led to her undoing, including a glimpse of who she was, underneath it all. Someone who'd risk her life to save a puppy, or to protect a man she had sworn to kill.
He unconsciously hugged her tighter at that thought, eliciting a little turn of her head. Even in the dim light he could see lines of exhaustion on her face. Yet Remi's eyes were as determined as ever, held an edge that he both respected and feared.
Weller pushed back on the urge to kiss her again and forced himself to look away, scan behind them for any pursuers. But the only movement he spotted was the puppy, still determinedly following them. This time he hadn't had the heart to leave the dog behind, despite the risks. The little guy seemed devoted to his rescuer and Kurt sensed that the feeling was becoming mutual.
Smiling at that thought, Weller focused his attention back on Remi; but quickly his grin turned into a frown as she wobbled in his arms. Their walking arrangement was a bit awkward but no slower than it'd been carrying her. It was easier on his bad leg too and he could still hold her tight against him as they shuffled their way through the woods.
Even though they were moving, her hypothermia wasn't improving much, most likely because she was in wet gear and had little natural insulation. It made him worried as hell to see her so dazed and weak; yet Remi just kept pushing on with everything she had. That part of her was just like Jane; it seemed to be a fundamental part of who they both were. And he couldn't help but admire her determination despite everything she'd just been through. Losing everyone she'd loved, waking up to a world turned upside down. As much as he despised her motives, she was capable as hell, even while dying.
They made it to the exfil site with only minutes to spare, the sound of the helicopter already overhead. As they pulled to a stop and Weller confirmed that they were in the right location, he couldn't help but plant his lips in her frigid hair, breathing a huge sigh of relief.
"That was not how this was supposed to go," he muttered, thinking back to the original plan. A quick in and out to get Roman's cache. What had ended up happening was as far from that as possible.
Remi tilted her head to look up at him, wearing a small furrow on her brow. Weller was sure she was going to scowl at him and waited to be told off for risking their lives on bad intel. But instead she offered him a very weary upward lip movement and a tiny nod.
"I'm so tired," she said, her voice barely audible.
It was more than he'd ever expected her to reveal, even after what they had just been through. And though it had been obvious how exhausted she'd been, hearing her express any vulnerability to him was shocking, so completely out of character.
Kurt's instinct was to tell her that she had done great and now he was going to take good care of her now. But thankfully the helicopter came into view at that point and he was forced to shut up before anything sappy came out of his mouth to remind her that she hated him.
As the chopper descended, Weller stood to the side with Remi pressed up against him. His heart was pounding in his ears and he looked around to check for a last minute ambush, suddenly sure that the feeling in his chest meant something was about to go wrong.
But then the helicopter landed and Remi let him scoop her up, burrowing into him as he lifted her into the machine. The pilot was clearly antsy to take off and Weller was about to jump in too when he turned and realized the dog wasn't with them anymore.
He immediately ran away from the chopper, scanning all around the little clearing until he saw the small ball of fur hunkered down as close as he'd dared to get to the giant noisy machine. Thankfully, the puppy didn't run away when Weller approached and even let himself be picked up despite his obvious fear. Kurt bundled the dog up in his arms and ran back to the helicopter, launching himself into it just as it was taking off.
By the time he dropped the dog and slammed the door shut, they were already high in the air. Weller took a moment to scan the area and saw the lights of many search teams, looking for them all over the property. From up there, it was obvious that they'd made it to the clearing just in time, only beating their pursuers by a short distance.
Kurt heaved a sigh of relief before turning his attention back to Remi. She was huddled in her seat with her eyes closed, her body too still. The puppy was pressing himself to her as best he could but now that they were out of danger, Remi didn't seem to have any energy left to even lift her hand and pet the dog.
He considered getting the pilot to land at the nearest hospital but then spotted the emergency blankets in the back of the chopper. He'd rather get home as soon as possible, especially with Christmas just over a day away. And if he'd been able to keep her warm enough in the freezing New Hampshire woods, he was sure they'd get through a helicopter ride.
Weller grabbed the blankets and crouched beside Remi, letting her register his presence before putting his hand on the back of her neck, in that place that makes her warm. He felt a jolt run through her and then her eyes flickered open, her expression sleepy and content.
Warmth flooded through him even as the alarm sounded in him mind, reminding him of reality. But try as he might, he couldn't turn off the feeling, even though it felt like he was being disloyal to Jane by caring so much about Remi.
Kurt sighed to himself and rubbed her neck again.
"It's a long ride," he said. "Let's get you warm."
*
There was no denying how good it felt, she just didn't have the energy to bother lying to herself.
It was almost an out of body experience, lying there frozen while Weller undressed her again and wrapped her up in something dry. Her actual body hadn't registered any additional warmth yet but still it was glorious to be free of her icy pants and covered in a fleece blanket.
Then Weller draped another blanket over her shoulders, stopping to rub the temperature-sensitive spot on the nape of her neck for awhile. A slight warmth from his hand was all she could feel, the rest of her still totally numb. She'd never experienced that degree of hypothermia before; had no idea how hard it was to function in that state, despite all the training she'd been through. Remi wondered how much the ZIP was affecting her, if that was why her body had failed her so completely. But then Weller tucked the puppy into her lap and then sat next to her, gently pulling her right up against his chest. And when she sank into him it no longer mattered what had happened; she became strangely content to let it all go.
Remi was still ice cold in her core, despite being smothered in warmth, and found herself drifting in and out of sleep. The helicopter ride lasted an undeterminable amount of time and some part of her never wanted the experience to end. She felt so safe with Weller wrapped around her, especially after everything he'd just put himself through. All in an inane attempt to save her life. Even though he knew who she was, and that she'd been planning on killing him.
The chopper finally landed and suddenly Remi snapped to, hazily realizing that they were back to real life and she was about to be arrested upon landing. Weller might care about her body, but he was still FBI. That entire time in the woods, it was some alternate world. Now she had to try and figure a way out of the mess she was in and get back to Shepherd.
Weller stood as soon as the machine touched down and lifted the dog out of her arms, instantly affirming her thoughts. Now that she had survived the journey out, he was all business; exactly as if he'd been brought back to reality too.
Remi groaned to herself, irritated by the disappointment she felt at the absence of Kurt's warmth around her. He'd been pressed up next to her for so long that she'd forgotten how cold it was without him there. But of course he'd only needed her body to survive and had treated her accordingly, by pretending that she was Jane. A pang of regret surged through her at that thought, followed by a wave of self admonishment. What had she expected? That he'd forgive her for being a terrorist and plotting against him just because she'd been hypothermic and needy? The cold had let her exist in a dream state, but it was mortifying now that she was coming out of it.
After passing the dog out of the chopper, Weller came back and Remi steeled herself for the handcuffs that were sure to come. But instead he bundled her into his arms just like he'd done with the puppy and carefully carried her out on shaky legs.
Her mind flashed to the sight of of his torn calf and she automatically thought about how long it had been since the injury, whether he'd be able to have it stitched up. Which was stupid, of course. None of that mattered now that she'd been found out and captured.
When he put her gently on the awaiting gurney, she was still waiting for restraints. But then Remi realized they weren't on the landing pad at the NYO and that she was surrounded by medical personnel, not FBI agents.
Well, except for one, of course. Who was limping alongside of her, holding her hand.
*
Weller paced outside the room, garnering all sorts of looks from the hospital staff walking by. Looking down at himself, he realized he was still in his shredded wet pants and covered in blood and dirt. He knew he should clean up and borrow some scrubs, then get his leg looked at. Remi was in good hands now, getting attended to by medical personnel. Yet he was still irrationally worried about her and had to see for himself that she was okay.
Finally, the door opened and the doctor emerged to give Kurt a rundown on Remi's condition before he was allowed to go in. She was still on the edge of severe hypothermia and they had considered internal reheating methods to get her body temperature up but of course Remi had refused to let them stick tubes into her. So they had resorted to external methods instead, which would be equally effective in the end, but would longer to get her warm.
Weller sighed at her stubbornness and thanked the doctor. His heart was in his throat, even though she was okay for the moment and would recover fully soon. He wondered how she would react to his presence now that they were out of danger and she didn't need him anymore.
Kurt stepped into the room and silently gazed at the woman who wasn't his wife. Remi was dressed in a hospital gown and tightly wrapped in a cocoon of heated blankets, her eyes closed and a content look on her relaxed features. But when he stepped up to her, she raised her eyelids slowly and offered him a drowsy smile before re-shaping her brow into a frown.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked, leaning over to examine her more closely and almost forgetting that he wasn't supposed to kiss her. Instead, he brushed her hair behind her ear, running his hand against her skin and feeling his heart settle as her cheek flushed with his touch.
"Warmer," Remi murmured. "Still tired."
Even that was a lot for her to admit and it made his heart cling to her, despite everything his head was trying to tell him. Again Weller resisted the urge to bring his lips to her forehead but he noticed his thumb had started rubbing her cheek and didn't bother to try and stop it.
"Yeah, your body temperature is still really low," he said, unable to tame the worry in his chest.
"Just rest," he added softly. "You're safe now."
For a moment it looked like Remi was going to comply, her eyes drifting shut for awhile as he moved his thumb to her forehead and smoothed away her frown. But just as her breathing started to slow, her eyelids flicked open again and she gave him a discerning look, with her brow creased yet again.
"Your leg," she said. "Is it okay?"
They both looked down at his soggy pants and Remi's frown deepened.
"Go get it looked at," she scolded, her voice drowsy but demanding.
"It can wait," he replied, still not wanting to leave her side.
"Stop being so stubborn," Remi grumbled.
He grinned at her and tried to settle the debate by soothing her back towards sleep. But even as his thumb started rubbing at her temple, Remi started shifting in her bed as if to escape the blankets that completely surrounded her.
"Hey, don't do that," Weller said, placing his hand firmly on her shoulder and pressing her back down to the bed. "You need to keep those on."
"Then go get the doctor yourself," she retorted, her body tense under his grip and her voice already sounding exhausted again.
She was right, and giving him no choice.
"Okay, okay," he sighed. "If you stay under those blankets and rest, I'll go get it checked out."
Remi gave him a stern look, her expression still fierce despite her weariness. But she couldn't hold it long, her eyes slipping shut as a satisfied grin tugged at her lips.
"Deal," she said, barely audibly.
He couldn't help it. Weller leaned over and placed a light kiss on her hairline, then stepped back to accept the consequences of his actions.
But Remi didn't tense up, nor did she scowl. Instead, she settled again and made a content noise, her lips curling up once more.
She was a terrorist and his enemy. Yet his chest flushed with warmth as his gaze lingered over her and Kurt was having a hard time with the idea of letting her out of his sight. And it definitely wasn't because she could run at anytime.
She had just been through so much, pushed herself so hard despite the hypothermia. Weller was torn in a million different directions, completely lost on what to do next.
He couldn't put her through a dangerous medical procedure so soon after almost losing her to the cold. No matter how desperate he was to get Jane back, Weller was afraid her body couldn't take it, at least not until she was fully recovered from being so hypothermic.
His logical mind told him he should handcuff her before leaving the room; to lie and say he's arresting her. Then put her in the zero division cell until she was well enough for the personality switch operation.
Weller sighed again and shook his head at himself. He was being an idiot and he knew it. But he couldn't bear the thought of cuffing her and locking her up alone, especially on Christmas Eve. So even though there was a good chance he'd leave that room and never see her again, he didn't pull out his handcuffs.
Instead, Kurt forced his eyes away from her, his heart heavy with a mix of emotions. Then he finally limped away to fulfill his end of the agreement, desperately hoping she would still be there when he got back.
*
Remi woke and instinctively knew something was missing, even before all her senses had come online. Her body wasn't numb anymore yet she felt cold once again, and for a moment she wondered if she was about to wake up in a cell. Weller could have injected her with a sedative while she was sleeping off the hypothermia and had her moved. It's what he should have done, right from the start.
Fear set in for a brief moment before Remi managed to blink her eyes open and see that she was still in the hospital, engulfed in heated blankets. But, unlike all the other times she'd briefly woken up through the night, Weller wasn't looming over her with his hand absently rubbing her shoulder.
Disappointment flooded through her, followed by a wave of irritation. Now that she was warm again, it was time to go and get on with her plan. Shepherd was still waiting for her and now she knew where Roman's special cache was, they could go on another mission to retrieve it.
Yet Remi stayed wrapped in the blankets for another few minutes, idly wondering if Weller had just gone to the bathroom and convincing herself that she wasn't getting up because she could be blowing her cover. Even though he already knew the truth and should be expecting her to run as soon as she was capable.
When it became clear that he'd left for more than just a moment, Remi fought off another surge of disappointment and forced herself to shed her blanket cocoon. Her body was finally back to a normal temperature, though still somewhat weak; and she missed the solid feeling of Weller's arm holding her up.
Pushing that treacherous thought away, Remi pushed her legs over the edge of the bed and sat upright for a second to regain her equilibrium. Her vision had swayed a little with the sudden movement and brought back the headache that had been constantly plaguing her of late. Again, she briefly wished for the warmth and comfort of Weller's body, before scowling at herself for being so pathetic.
She should be thankful to be rid of him and extremely relieved that he'd finally left her alone long enough to make an escape. But instead, Remi felt abandoned and alone; irrationally upset that he'd left without waiting for her to wake up.
Frustrated by her weakness, Remi instinctively pulled up her inner steel and mentally berated herself for letting any thoughts of Kurt Weller linger in her head. Other than scoffing at his stupidity for not locking her up when he had the chance.
He had to have known she would leave the minute she was capable of it. It made no sense that he would let her go that easily. And even less sense that she was upset with him for not being there to stop her.
Realizing that her thoughts were still stuck on Weller, Remi growled at herself and forced her body into action. Pushing onto unsteady feet, she took a few deep breaths before stepping towards the door and assessing the situation.
There was no one guarding her room, nothing to suggest that she couldn't just walk right out. So, after one more quick glance around, Remi did exactly that; stepped out into the hallway without being seen.
On her way out of the hospital, she snuck into another patient's room to steal a set of clothes and a pair of shoes. It was easier to keep her ill-timed surge of emotions at bay by focusing on a series of tasks. And she'd been trained as an operative since she was a child, knew that life so well that it offered her a little bit of the familiar comfort she was aching for.
Leaving the hospital, Remi instinctively started avoiding cameras and shielding her face as she got into a series of cabs, all paid for with cash from a fat wallet she'd poached on the way. When she was sure she wasn't being followed, Remi was satisfied but also thrown into a state of confusion. She realized that, somewhere along the way, she'd convinced herself it was a set up; that Weller had let her run so she'd lead him to Shepherd.
But apparently she'd given him much too much credit because he was still nowhere to be seen and she was nearing her destination. Which should have been a relief, yet filled her with an uneasiness. It was unfathomable to her that he would just let her go, so unlike the Kurt Weller she'd come to know.
Again, Remi gave herself a mental shake, trying to rid her brain of Weller-related thoughts. In a few minutes she would be reunited with Shepherd and likely to never see him again. It was time to move on with her life. Find a cure and then restart their plan to overthrow the US government. Even if that thought didn't burn with the same intensity anymore; was no longer fueled by overwhelming rage.
Fuck, Remi thought. She had accused Shepherd of getting soft but she had let it happen to herself as well. Living Jane's existence, pretending to be a government agent, having someone at her back that she would trust with her life. It had bled into her to the point where she'd tried to give herself up for him – the hazy memory of it filling her with a paradoxical mix of embarrassment and pride.
Remi shook her head at herself and exhaled irritably. She had to get her head on straight before she saw Shepherd. Or else she'd get called out on it immediately and Shepherd would be right.
Taking a few deep breaths, Remi said a mental goodbye to Weller and then shoved all her emotions behind the steel wall in her mind. Then, she entered the building where she'd left Shepherd, ready to purge herself of Jane's life.
As soon as she walked in, Remi knew Shepherd wasn't there. She still searched the premises quickly but was, at the same time, thinking about where Shepherd would run to, whether she'd still have access to any of their old safe houses.
For a moment Remi couldn't think of where Shepherd would have gone. But once she realized how long she'd been gone for, the answer couldn't have been clearer.
Shepherd would assume that Remi had been caught by the FBI. Which would have sent her in exactly one direction - to the easiest source of information and leverage.
Remi's chest immediately filled with worry. Even in her weakened condition Shepherd could be deadly. And Weller would be distracted, goddamned heartbroken - at his most vulnerable.
The thought of him getting attacked in his apartment by Shepherd after everything he'd just been through made her stomach clench. She'd finally come to terms with her decision to let him live; grudgingly accepted the fact that she couldn't bear to kill him. Now it was quickly becoming clear that she didn't want to lose him at all because her insides froze at the thought of what Shepherd would do if she got the jump on him.
In an instant Remi was out the door and on the move. She had no idea what she was going to do. But she wasn't going to let anyone hurt Kurt Weller, not even her mother.
*
When Weller got back to the hospital and she was gone, he wasn't surprised but it still hit him hard, like a physical punch to the gut.
Staring at the empty bed with a set of her clothing in his hands made reality set in starkly. All of a sudden Kurt realized what he had done. Until then the thought of Remi leaving had just been a possibility, even if it'd been an extremely likely one. He had somehow been convincing himself that he'd figure something out before she took off on him. But now Weller was faced with an extremely harsh reality - he'd let a terrorist run free after she'd engineered a prisoner escape by faking a nuclear attack. After he knew full well who she was and what she was planning.
It was so unlike him that Kurt still couldn't wrap his head around it hours later, standing on his balcony and trying to drown his thoughts in scotch. All day he had berated himself for being so stupid; for letting a terrorist escape because she had co-opted his wife's body and confused his heart. Yet, even as he'd looked for Remi everywhere he could think of and found no sign of her, Weller had held a silent hope that she hadn't really left him.
Now though, standing outside as a freezing cold Christmas Eve night began to fall, Kurt was hit hard with the fact that he'd likely never see her again. An overwhelming wave of loss and despair crashed over him, momentarily washing away his anger and self-blame. He'd lost Jane months ago and not even known it. And now he'd lost Remi too, along with any chance of ever getting Jane back.
He hadn't felt so alone since those days of travelling the world, ending up in an empty hotel room, night after night, with only his worry for Jane to keep him company. He wondered where Remi was at the moment – probably already far away and deep underground with Shepherd, planning another attempt at Roman's cache.
Weller figured she had to try again, especially now that she had lost access to the caches that the team had already found, as well as the clues leading to other ones. He could even try and catch her in the attempt, though he would likely fail. Remi was an extremely competent operator, and would be on high alert for any attempt to capture her. And, truthfully, he wanted her to succeed, get the cache and find the cure. He needed her to live; even if he never got Jane back, even if he never saw Remi again.
Kurt sighed, trying to shake himself out of his whirling mind.
He was a goddamned mess and he knew it. It was Christmas Eve and he should be video calling with his daughter and looking forward to her Christmas visit. But Weller didn't know how to explain Jane's absence so he had put it off, hoping he would have the emotional strength to talk to Bethany and Allie later on, once he'd had more time to process everything that had happened.
Yet he'd been standing there for ages already and neither his mind nor his heart had settled. He was hurt that she had left, and then mad at himself for being so upset when he had no right to be. But mostly he was worried about her, just couldn't stop wondering if she was okay. He hadn't known the ZIP poisoning had progressed so far already and now she was out there on her own, sick and hallucinating. Shepherd wouldn't take care of her, even if she could. She'd sent Remi on this suicide mission knowing that ZIP was deadly. She had clearly been willing to sacrifice her daughter for the cause.
He knew Remi had her own agency, that she had made her own choices too. Yet Kurt couldn't help feeling for her, after everything she'd been through. Growing up abused and having to look out for her younger brother in the worst of circumstances. It was easy to see why she'd turned out so damaged.
Her story resonated with him, maybe more than it should have. After all, he had managed to turn out alright after having experienced trauma and abuse as a child, though certainly not to the same degree. Though there had been times in his teenage years where he'd had violent fantasies of forcing a confession out of his father, finding out what had really happened that night. Thankfully he'd always held back, telling himself it was for Sarah's sake when really he was afraid to confront his dad's lies.
He needed to stop thinking about her, coming up with farfetched ideas of ways to find her. He hadn't had any success, even when she'd been Jane. Tracking Remi would be a nearly impossible task. He figured his only hope was if she needed something from him in the future and was forced to make contact.
Weller thought about the phone call he'd received after she'd left him at the evidence warehouse, trying to convince himself that she might reach out to him again, even if she didn't need to. She had tried to save him and he desperately wanted to believe that she cared for him in her own way.
But that was stupid, a pie in the sky Christmas wish. She'd used him until she'd been found out and then had left at her first opportunity. Holding onto hope of ever hearing from her again was only going to lead to more heartache. He wondered if she'd even tell him if she found a cure, or if there would be any way to reach her if he found it first.
His wife was gone, both in mind and in body. He had to learn to accept the fact that he'd let her go and would likely never know her fate. He'd lost her for good this time and it was entirely his fault.
Weller groaned at himself, realizing that he'd just restarted the spiral of anger and blame that he couldn't escape. He had to stop standing out there in the freezing cold and moping the night away. He didn't have much time left to call his daughter; Allie would already be giving him shit for how late he'd left it.
So he did everything he could to leave it all out there on the balcony. All his regrets and self-recrimination; all of his worry and love.
It wasn't nearly successful but this time Kurt forced himself stand up straight and face his life without her. And even though it still took another while, he eventually managed to make himself turn around and go inside. He'd failed as a husband but still needed to do his job as a father. No matter how heartbroken he was, he owed it to Bethany to put on a cheerful act, not let his kid know that anything was wrong.
Weller limped back in, determined to move on, at least for the night. Even though the space around him was teeming with memories of her, all those moments he never wanted to forget.
But as he was standing there trying to contain his emotions, the front door started to open and everything changed.
*
She was cold again and her neck hurt from looking up for so long.
He'd been standing on his balcony for ages, clearly not in any danger. Shepherd was definitely not there; had probably already left the city and found somewhere to hole up and lick her wounds.
Which meant that Remi should be planning her next move – basically, figuring out whether to waste time tracking Shepherd down or going back to the militia zone by herself. The cure was, of course, her priority. But the thought of planning and executing a solo mission into the same situation that had just nearly killed both her and Weller was exhausting and daunting, especially with her quickly failing health.
So Remi was still planted there, across the street from Weller's apartment, even though she'd long ago determined that Shepherd wasn't there. She should have left right away, gone and searched for her adoptive mother. Yet there she was, unable to shake him from her life.
He looked so forlorn, standing out there by himself. Of course she was too far away to really see him but Remi could tell from the way Weller was leaning against the railing, how long he'd been out there alone when he should have been on a call with his daughter.
Remi felt a twinge of guilt, followed by a wave of irritation. Not much could get between Weller and his kid; he was as devoted as a long-distance father could be. He would have to be hurting a lot to avoid Bethany on Christmas Eve, especially with the upcoming visit with her that he'd been looking forward to so much.
Which shouldn't matter to her in the least. In fact, at one point, her disdain for his emotional sensitivity would have immediately hardened her resolve. He's the one who had married Jane, despite what he knew about her past. Everything that had happened was due to him being pathetically soft, and that was clearly his own fault.
Yet Remi couldn't stop watching him, even as she began to shiver. He had to give up soon and go make the call to Colorado. She would leave then, once he'd finally moved on with his existence. Even though the thought of going made her feel incredibly alone, Remi told herself that she'd always been on her own, and that she should be glad to be rid of him.
It wasn't very convincing though, not when she couldn't pull herself away, even when Weller stayed out there much longer than she anticipated. Then, Remi caught herself thinking he shouldn't be doing so much standing on his wounded leg and found herself irritated that he couldn't even manage the basics of taking care of his injury.
Fuck. She had already devoted way too much mental space to Kurt Weller. But there she was, mentally cursing him for his ineptitude and herself for caring at all, when he pushed himself up straight, as if finally ready to get on with things.
It was her signal to go. But Remi was unexpectedly flooded with sadness at the thought of broken Kurt, putting on a brave face for his daughter. And, no matter how hard she tried to walk away, Remi kept thinking that she didn't want him to be alone. Even more bewilderingly, she recognized that she wanted to be there with him.
So, despite the alarm bells ringing in the back of her mind, Remi found that her feet were moving and taking her straight across the street, right into Weller's building.
*
She was shivering on his doorstep and Weller was instantly overcome with hope and déjà vu; nearly engulfing her in his arms before he froze mid step, realizing how guarded she looked.
Right, he thought, snapping himself back to reality. It was Remi, not Jane. And she would likely assault him if he tried to touch her now; had only used him as a heat source out of pure necessity.
She'd probably only come back for something stashed in the apartment. Though he would have thought she would have come while he was out.
Kurt felt his heart pounding, both elated and nervous that she was there. He still had a chance. But she looked so on edge, ready to flee at any moment.
He tried to figure out something to say that wouldn't make her run, but so many of the questions that filled his mind would instantly put her on the defensive. Still, Weller knew he couldn't just keep standing there gaping at her while his heart continued to race; the tension between them already pushing Remi a step back.
"Hey," he finally said, suddenly feeling very nervous. He probably only had one chance at this, and the stakes were extremely high.
"How are you feeling?"
It was the most neutral question he could come up with that expressed some of his concern. But Weller still wondered if she would answer him at all or if he'd messed it up already.
"I'm fine," Remi grumbled, even though she was obviously cold again and trying to squint another headache away.
Again, Weller resisted the impulse to reach out and touch her. He considered asking her in but worried that it would only push her away. He wondered what the hell she was thinking, why she wasn't already out of the country.
"I thought you'd already be gone," he said, trying his best to keep his voice completely neutral. He wondered if she heard all the questions within that statement, everything he was afraid to ask.
"What happened?"
Remi flashed him a suspicious look, as if considering how much she should spill.
"Shepherd's gone. I thought she might have come here," she finally replied.
That didn't explain why she was at his door, when it had been clear for hours that Shepherd wasn't there. It was technically possible she'd only wanted to make sure, but that thought was as inane as all his others – that she'd missed him, that she wanted to stay.
Or maybe she was there to say goodbye, though that also didn't seem like something Remi would do. But, regardless of what had brought her there, Weller sensed that he was running out of time. He could feel Remi hardening herself right in front of him, and panic started to rise into his throat again.
"I should go," she muttered, right on cue. "Don't look for me."
He wondered if that was actually what she'd come up here to tell him, if those were really her last words for him.
Remi forcibly tore her eyes away from his and started to turn around. Weller knew then that he'd lost her, that the chaos she wreaked on his heart only went one direction, no matter what he'd wanted to believe.
"Wait," he said, his tone already defeated. "Just for a minute."
Weller didn't wait for Remi to agree before turning and heading back into his apartment. He hoped her curiosity would get the better of her, despite the defensiveness in her posture.
He was out of plays and had to accept his defeat. It broke his heart but Weller told himself he had to let her go. He'd already decided that when he'd given her the chance to run, he wasn't going to go back on it now.
But if he had to let her go, he needed to do one last thing for her. It was all he had left to give her, the only thing he thought she'd accept.
Weller sighed, the pressure in his chest crushing his heart. He had already lost Jane and was now losing all he had left of her - would likely never see his wife again. It hurt just to contemplate, even with his conflicting emotions about Remi.
Kurt already felt empty, looking at a bleak future by himself. And yet, the sorrow in his heart was entirely for the woman that had once been his wife; for all she'd gone through and what was still to come. So if she wouldn't let him be there for her, he could at least make sure that she wouldn't be alone.
*
Remi thought hard about leaving when he walked back into his apartment, knowing that it was what she should have done. But her usual steel resolve was completely missing in action and she told herself she could give him one more minute if that was the last she was going to see of him.
She'd gone up there, compelled by unfamiliar needs. But as soon as she'd seen him, Remi had frozen up again, realizing that she had no idea what to do. She didn't want him to be alone but also didn't know how to stay.
He was obviously not going to try and convince her, she understood that from how devastated he looked. Which made her feel relieved and annoyed at the same time. It would have been easier to fight it out with him and storm away. The idea that he was letting her go, despite everything she'd done. It was not like Weller at all and made her strangely upset.
She was still frowning at his behaviour and stuck in thought when Weller returned, rushing and looking relieved, like he'd expected her to already be gone. He even offered her a sad smile, which instantly made her glad she'd stayed. Well, that and the sleepy puppy in his arms, who snapped to attention and started wagging his tail as soon as he recognized her scent.
In the midst of it all, she'd completely forgotten about the dog. With everything that had occurred, she hadn't even wondered what had happened to the creature she'd nearly given her life for. And now, Remi had no idea what he was thinking. She couldn't take a puppy with her on the run, especially with the ZIP poisoning looming over her. And even if she stayed, they didn't live the kind of lifestyle that was dog-friendly.
But the puppy was straining to reach her, nearly leaping out of Weller's arms. So there was nothing she could do but catch the creature before he tumbled to the floor and then hold him to her as he eagerly licked her face.
Remi felt a flood of endorphins hit and immediately tried to reject the warmth pushing into her chest. She didn't need the complications of a puppy and was suddenly angry at Weller for putting her in that position. She was about to use her irritation as fuel to hand the dog back and walk away from both sets of mournful eyes. But then the pup nudged his nose right into her ribcage and Remi was so startled that she huffed a laugh and snuggled the furball even closer.
"Hmm, he bites me when I try to do that," Weller said affectionately.
"I thought you should have the chance to have him," he continued. "No pressure, though. Allie's already agreed to take him if you can't. So he'll have a good life either way."
Goddammit. She couldn't even be pissed at him for forcing her into the decision. Not after he'd so carefully arranged everything for the animal she hadn't even thought of.
Remi realized that he'd probably only left the hospital to deal with the adopting the dog. She'd been wondering what could have pulled him away after how attentive he'd been and now it all came clear. Of course he'd thought about the puppy and taken care of the situation. And now he was giving her a final offering.
"But if you're leaving, you should take him. I don't want you to be alone," Weller added.
She definitely noticed the question embedded in his thought, heard the offer hidden within. Which didn't even bear considering, no matter how hopeful it made her feel.
Remi tried to push off the feeling that was sweeping over her, doing her best to set her face to a sneer.
"You're just going to let me go?" she asked. "Aren't you afraid of what I'm going to do?"
Weller looked at her with so much tenderness that Remi nearly had to glance away.
"Right now I'm just afraid of you dying," he whispered, as if saying it too loudly would jinx things. "I won't stop looking for a cure, even if you go. But I think it'd be better if we found it together."
Remi could see Weller steel himself, waiting for her to turn away, reject his offer. He looked nervous, and so goddamned sad. And for the briefest moment she let herself imagine crushing herself to him, how tightly he would hold her.
Shit. She really needed to leave; to turn around and walk the fuck away. But her feet refused to move and Remi stood there, staring at the sincerity in his blue eyes. Then, when she spoke, she didn't recognize herself at all. But it was, for once, the truth.
"I don't have anywhere to go."
*
"I don't have anywhere to go."
It's because she belonged there, with him.
Weller couldn't stop thinking that, but least he managed to not say it out loud. She wasn't his at all, and he definitely didn't want to scare her away.
Remi stood there, frozen, as if in shock from having revealed so much. And what he felt for her in that moment was confusing as hell. He wanted to love her, despite all reason. She was a ruthless criminal; had done so many horrible things in her life. And yet, this harder, damaged version of his wife broke his heart.
He would never have expected her to say something so vulnerable; was shocked she'd even shown up at his door. Again, he fought the impulse just to pull to him and tell her that everything was going to be okay. She still looked extremely twitchy, ready to run at any moment.
"Then stay," he offered gently.
Remi scowled, narrowing her eyes at him warily.
"And do what?" she asked. "You can't just keep pretending I'm Jane."
Weller flinched, because he'd been asking himself the same thing all day. Was he stuck in some fantasy that was clouding his judgement?
But the answer Kurt kept coming up with didn't clarify anything; it only made him more emotionally confused. He definitely still intended to try and get Jane back, that wasn't in any doubt. But once he'd declined to drug Remi again at the hospital and give her the personality-change treatment, he'd made an irrevocable decision, fearing the loss of both of them.
Because as much as he missed Jane and was desperate to get her back, he also didn't want to lose the woman in front of him. No matter who she'd been, what she'd done. He wanted her to have a second chance too; even though he knew that was naïve and completely at odds with his ethics as an FBI agent.
So he wasn't pretending she was Jane, that was impossible given their differences. But he did still see in her the hope of someday getting Jane back.
What it ended up coming down to was realizing that he wanted Remi to live, even if Jane were gone forever. As much as that thought hurt, losing both of them would have been even worse.
"No, you're Remi," he finally replied. "But I still want you to stay, at least until we find the cure."
She was still standing there with the puppy in her arms, giving him a suspicious look. He could feel her teetering, and desperately hoped he'd said the right words.
"And what, you're just going to lie to your team?" she asked, after a long anxious moment.
Weller's chest flushed with warmth, realizing that Remi was actually considering it. Yet he couldn't screw this up now, had to play his cards exactly right or she'd walk away and never look back.
"No, they already know the truth. They've all been working with you for months, they'll understand," he said, more confidently than he actually felt.
"Bullshit," she snapped. "They're not deluded like you, Weller. I can't believe you're willing to compromise all your values and let me go. You're no better than any of those corrupt officials we took out."
She wasn't wrong. Reade would rightly throw a fit about his plan to set her free and let her choose her path. And it went completely against everything he stood for as a federal agent. But he'd arrested her once before and it had turned out to be one of the worst decisions he'd ever made.
"You're right," he admitted. "I do unreasonable things for the people that I love."
*
"I do unreasonable things for the people that I love."
His statement drew all of the air out of her, and for a moment she forgot how to breathe. But then reality set in rapidly and Remi felt her shoulders tighten with self-irritation as she reminded herself of the truth.
She hadn't ever thought she was someone that could be loved; not after her parents died and she'd been forced to do terrible things in order to survive and protect Roman. It had scared her, how readily she could kill when necessary. There was so much repressed shame, things about herself she'd never been able to share with anyone.
Instead, Remi had learned to cultivate admiration and loyalty without allowing anybody all the way in; even Roman and Oscar had only loved versions of her, and her love for them felt more like an obligation to protect and defend. Because real love would have required her to be vulnerable to losing it; and she'd brutally learned that lesson early in her life.
"You don't love me, Weller," she replied, forcing herself to remember that fact.
She didn't know what he was doing, but Remi felt it dragging her in. Instinctively she wanted to run and escape his gravitational pull. Flustered, she put the dog down on the ground, in an attempt to push off the effect Weller was having on her. But then the puppy sat next to her and whined, making them both glance down in response.
"Maybe not," Weller replied. "But he already does."
"And I do care about you."
Only because he was still confused as hell by the fact that she wore his wife's body, apparently couldn't turn that switch off in his brain.
"I mean I care about you, Remi. Separate from everything I feel for Jane."
Remi froze, both internally and externally. Sometimes it seemed like he read her thoughts; or, more disturbingly, maybe he could actually see her. Even worse, she believed him and wanted it to be true. No matter how much Remi told herself he was trying to play her and would turn her in as soon as she gave in. She knew that he'd let her go; she could have been in another country already. She'd gone back there on her own accord and no amount of denial could negate that.
"How can you?" she asked, the words slipping through before she could stop them.
There was something wrong with him if he could just accept everything she'd done. She'd used him and abused him, preying on his trauma and co-opting his life. Then had plotted against him in every way; planned to murder him for months.
Weller shrugged, looked at her with that little furrow in his brow.
"I don't know. I just do. You didn't deserve the life you had. It's not an excuse for what you've done but I can't turn you in. I wouldn't be able to protect you from the CIA. Letting them take Jane was the worst mistake I ever made. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again."
He sounded so fucking sincere, and for a moment Remi was filled with hot rage at the tenderness he was offering her. Didn't he understand that she wasn't worth it? That she couldn't be saved? He was compromising all his values for an impossible goal.
And she both hated him and loved him for that.
*
He'd just bared his heart to Remi Briggs, and now Weller stood there, bracing himself for the repercussions of his actions.
He could see the internal battle waging within her but didn't have anything else to sway her towards staying. If what he'd offered wasn't enough, then he'd have to accept her decision. But at least he'd have tried his best to save her.
Remi didn't say anything for what seemed like ages. It was so strange to see her emotions on Jane's features, especially the ingrained hardness in her eyes. But it did make it all that more heartbreaking when she frowned a little and bit her lower lip in the exact way that Jane did when upset with herself.
"You're such an idiot," she muttered. "This is a terrible idea."
She wasn't wrong about either of those things. But he couldn't think of anything else that would keep her safe.
Kurt felt his chest grow ice cold at the thought of her walking away after his last gasp effort. But he forced himself to stay silent and let her decide.
"But I don't want to be alone."
Her quiet confession made his heart jam up in his throat. Again his arms started to extend towards her and he forced himself not to touch her. No matter how distressed she looked, having admitted her need.
He considered asking her if he could hug her, but was still worried about scaring her off. Remi was as tense as a wild animal, her eyes cast downwards as she chewed hard on the corner of her bottom lip. The air between them felt highly charged and he was afraid what any spark would ignite.
"You don't have to be," he said, renewing his offer. "I'm right here."
He swore that her eyes glistened as Remi turned her face away and he could see her struggling to steady herself before she finally looked up at him again, wearing an unreadable expression.
"You don't need to say anything. Just… stay."
Weller knew he'd won the battle when she furrowed her brow in annoyance and took a step towards him. He waited, expecting her to silently walk by him into the apartment. So he couldn't have been more shocked when she stepped right up to him, so close he could feel her breath on his skin.
Remi stood there silently, irradiating tenseness. Her hands hung by her side in clenched fists, as if she had no other way of controlling them.
It was clear what she wanted, and that all of her trauma and history wouldn't let her ask for it. So finally, Kurt reached out and pulled her into his chest; crushing her to him. And even though Remi's body was rigid at first, it wasn't long before she relaxed and lay her head over his heart, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.
*
It felt so good to be buried in Weller's arms, engulfed in the warmth of his body and his familiar scent, that Remi didn't bother judging herself for wanting it. It was completely alien; being so needy, so goddamned vulnerable. Not to mention allowing it without tearing herself to shreds.
There had never been anyone there to comfort her, not after her parents had died. As a child soldier she'd quickly learned to harden herself against any emotional needs, because none of them would be met. And it had been her job to take care of her brother, help him through their ordeal as best she could. So any crying about her own situation had been put aside; especially once she'd realized what happened to kids who showed any weakness.
Of course none of that had changed when they were with Shepherd; if anything, it had been a harder emotional landscape to navigate. Their adopted mother was a textbook sociopath and had used affection merely as a tool to manipulate them both. Though Shepherd did care about them in her own twisted way, she certainly hadn't attended to their emotional needs, other than to teach them not to have any.
Even with Oscar, she'd always wondered if there would come a time when she'd come to rely him. It had been his underlying need and sensitivity that had drawn her to him - she had seen the boy who had lost his mother beneath the hardened young militant. But of course that had only led to her breaking his heart by putting the mission first, even though he should have known that was the choice she would always make.
It was all so different with Weller, though. When she'd seen Roman or Oscar hurting, it had made her into steel, ready to shield them at all costs. But whenever Kurt showed his needs, Remi felt herself soften, as if tenderized by the brunt of his emotions. She still wanted to protect him, but not just by harming his aggressor or plotting revenge. Instead, dismayingly, she wanted to tend to his heart.
It was only then that Remi realized what the next thought was, the one she'd never even allowed herself. It was bad enough that she wanted to defend him and heal his hurts. To want the same from him was opening herself up to a terrifying risk, one that she had no control over.
But, by the time all of that had gone through her head, her survival instincts had already kicked into overdrive and there was no way she was going to let go of him. Not when he was so goddamned warm, and somehow soothed the ache in her chest.
An indeterminable amount of time later, still tucked in the same position, he finally asked her if she wanted to go inside. Remi could hear his smile in the tone of his voice; the way he pressed his lips hard against her forehead.
And when it came down to it, it wasn't even that hard to say.
"Yeah. I guess I do."
She felt his unseen smile grow as Weller pulled her in especially tightly for a moment before stepping back, leaving just his arm around her back as he led her into the apartment.
For a second Remi stood there stiffly, unsure how to act in the space that had been her home for months. It was so strange to be there as herself and she felt oddly self conscious.
But Weller confidently guided her to the couch and sat her down, then went to make her a drink just as the puppy hopped onto the cushion beside her. Remi grinned and petted the dog as it cuddled right up against her side.
Just using her for warmth, she told herself. Which then triggered a cascade of half-formed memories, dulled by a frozen brain. Being carried in his arms, feeling so fragile yet protected.
When Weller returned with their drinks, he sat down on the other side of the dog, lingering his arm over her shoulders. He seemed to have no expectations of her, despite what they'd been through and her decision to stay.
For a moment Remi focused on her drink, hoping that alcohol would loosen her up a bit. She took a sip and noticed it was fixed exactly as she liked it; the realization making her feel flushed. Remi eyed Weller carefully, inordinately pleased that he'd noticed her favourite drink had changed slightly; even a little proud of him for catching such a small detail.
Weller caught her look and gave her a half-wink in response. Then he brought his own drink up and tapped it against hers, offering her a hopeful smile.
"To life," he said.
"To life," she replied, pushing the words past the lump in her throat.
Weller flashed her another grin, obviously pleased with himself. Then, very slowly, he moved his arm from on her shoulders and slipped it down her back until his hand was on her waist.
"This okay?" he asked, rubbing his thumb against her side.
Remi nodded, unable to trust her voice. But she shifted closer to him to indicate her need and Weller responded by pulling her right to him, until her head was resting against his shoulder and the squished puppy was squirming on her lap.
The dog clearly didn't want to be left out and Remi found herself laughing as the puppy demanded attention by trying to hit Kurt in the face, then wedging himself in between her and Weller.
Kurt feigned exasperation with the situation with an exaggerated groan but he couldn't hide the grin he was wearing. Remi realized she had never seen him so loose, unburdened by all his worries for just a moment. And, impossibly, it made her feel good to be there with him; to not be alone for once.
It had been a long time since she'd been so content being alive, Remi suddenly realized. For her, life had been mostly a game of survival, beating the odds until she met her inevitable early end. It still was that, her fate looming her even now. But she'd been only living for justice and revenge for so long that it was weird just being pleased to exist; even stranger to enjoy cuddling up to her dog and her pseudo-husband on Christmas Eve.
By the time Remi finally found her voice again, the dog had realized Weller wasn't going to give up his hold on her and settled for a position in her lap. Rubbing her head against his shoulder a bit, she nodded towards the computer on the coffee table.
"You should call your kid," she murmured, remembering that he hadn't had a chance to yet.
Weller looked down at her, his expression full of surprise.
"Are you sure about that?" he replied simply.
Remi heard everything he was really asking though; the same things she'd just asked herself.
Are you really willing to pretend to be Jane? Play the doting wife and parent?
She could sit the call out but that would incite questions, force him to lie to his kid. It would be so much easier on him if she just played the part and let him have a relatively worry-free interaction with his daughter.
"Yeah, I'm sure," she said. "It's Christmas Eve. You should be with the people you love."
Remi cringed as soon as the words escaped, realizing that he couldn't be with the woman he loved, possibly ever again. She hadn't meant to remind him of that, especially so bluntly. Thinking about it now, somehow still held tight against him, it almost made her feel bad for regaining control of her brain. Despite that being the plan all along.
"I'm sorry, Kurt. I know you miss her."
It wasn't much, but it was much more than Remi thought she'd be able to say. Weller stared at her with a small frown and misty eyes. She could feel him thinking about Jane and imagined he was seeing all the differences between them, remembering that she'd stolen his wife from him.
But when he spoke, there was no animosity in his voice and only a hint of the sadness she could see in his eyes.
"Yeah, I do. A lot," he said with a nod.
"I would have missed you too though. So… thanks. For being here."
Remi blinked hard and hid her face against him for a moment, trying to will her emotions into submission. But it didn't help that he was absently rubbing her shoulder and she could feel his breath against her hair.
Eventually she managed to pull herself together and took a peek upwards, only to find Weller still gazing at her fondly, like she hadn't just ruined his life.
There was something wrong with the idiot, he had too much goddamned heart.
"You are… unbelievable," Remi muttered.
She did her best to scowl, but knew that it had come out tinged with affection instead of malice. Though the responding affectionate grin on Weller's face almost made it worth it.
"It's getting late, let's call your kid," she grumbled.
Kurt nuzzled his mouth up against her temple, and she could feel him grinning against her skin.
"Yes ma'am," he said, faux seriously.
It was Christmas Eve and she could be a thousand miles away already. But there she was, playing house with Weller, with everything out in the open. No more pretending.
She should feel exposed and threatened. But being tucked against him, wrapped in the enemy's arms; it was the safest she'd felt since the night her parents died.
So, for once, Remi let it slide. Postponed self judgment to indulge in the comfort of Weller's presence and feeling so goddamned cared for.
"Shut up, Weller," she groaned.
And, just as she'd planned, Kurt's grin spread even wider and he planted another kiss against her brow.
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Christmas and the Gang
Repost, sort of? Written for the Blindspot Holiday project 2019 on Tumblr but I didn’t have an account back then. This is set during the two-week time jump between 2.10 and 2.11 so it sorta fits the rewatch timeline too. (I'm sure it makes no sense that Christmas would fall during that time but, then again why not?)
*
Nothing like spending Christmas with your family, Jane thought as she sat on the cold concrete floor outside of Roman's Zero Division cell. Especially when neither of you remember anything about the holidays, what it's all meant to be about.
Jane suspected that holiday celebrations hadn't been a big part of life with Shepherd - she certainly hadn't had any Christmas-related memories pop through. And Roman seemed to be just as much at a loss, though he appreciated the gifts and the take out roast turkey dinner she'd brought him.
But now that the present opening was over, they had run out of things to talk about and the terribleness of spending the holiday in a stark concrete bunker was settling in all around them. Roman seemed a bit fidgety too, like he was nervous about her presence.
"Don't you have something better to be doing on Christmas Day?" he asked, giving her a skeptical look.
Jane shook her head. She genuinely had nothing else planned for that day. The rest of the team was spending the holidays with family; everyone seemed to have relatives in town that year. She was happy that they were all getting a chance to spend time with their loved ones. They deserved it after how hard it had been recently, especially since the ambush that left so many agents dead.
Terrible waves of guilt still crashed within her whenever Jane thought about what had happened. How it had all been her fault, caught out by Sandstorm's mole. She felt so horrible for Patterson, tortured by someone she loved. And for Reade, who was still recovering from his leg injury. Weller too, even though he hadn't been there for the raid. The guilt he had felt about not being there, being played by Sandstorm. Jane knew it was all on her, that none of it would have happened had she never come up with this plan, erased her own memory.
So of course she didn't have any plans for Christmas Day - the only family she'd ever known was probably lost to her forever. And although the environment sucked, at least she had Roman to spend time with. Even if she was just drawing while he read a book, Jane liked being there, trying to connect with him. He was her only family now, all that she had.
Just then her phone chimed an alert and Jane pulled it out to see that it was her FBI locator app going off, indicating a target on the move, just outside the NYO office. There was no information from Patterson attached to the search though and they weren't actively trying to locate anyone.
"What's that?" Roman asked curiously.
"I don't know," Jane replied. "I'm being given a target to catch but we aren't working on anything right now."
"Are you going to go?" he questioned. "Shouldn't you ask Weller about it before you follow a random signal?"
He had a point, Jane thought. But it was Christmas day and Kurt was busy with family along with everyone else. Also the target was still nearby and she was the only one at the NYO. It was up to her to find out what it was about.
"I don't want to bother him if it turns out to be nothing," Jane said. "I'll go investigate first and if I need back up I'll call it in then."
"You just want something to do that isn't sitting in an underground bunker. I don't blame you, you should be out with your friends," he commented. "So go, if it turns out to be something then at least you'll see them on Christmas."
That was sad, she thought. But true. That the only chance she had of seeing the team on Christmas was if they were called in on an emergency.
"Okay, I'm going," she declared, ready to do anything other than sit around and mope. "I'll see you later Roman. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas Jane," her brother replied sincerely.
Jane left the NYO building and started following the tracker uptown. Her quarry looked to be on foot so she walked as well, far enough behind that she wouldn't get made.
It was strange following a signal that she knew nothing about. Jane tracked it for miles and miles until she was in Central Park, amidst families all celebrating Christmas.
Finally, her target had stopped moving and seemed to be staying among the many people ice skating on a large rink in front of her. Jane stared at the crowd of skaters, realizing that she had no hope of finding an unknown subject out on the ice. Especially since she wasn't sure if she knew how to skate and had no reason for even chasing this person.
She was about to give up the search, glad to have at least gotten some outdoor exercise and entertainment, when a familiar figure caught her eye. Jane turned her attention back to the ice rink and stared at the object of her interest.
It was definitely Assistant Director Kurt Weller, skating with his nephew and his sister. Even from that distance she could tell that he was laughing at Sarah, who was rather wobbly on her skates.
Jane stood there staring, thinking that it couldn't be a coincidence. The city was huge and the tracker had led her to exactly where Weller was. But it didn't make any sense. She was sure that Kurt had not set it up, would not want her at this family outing.
She felt like a creep even watching them from the edge of the rink and had just turned to leave when a familiar voice called out her name.
Jane turned back, feeling like she had been caught spying. But then again, it was Christmas. And now at least she would get to see Kurt for a minute, although the circumstances were odd.
Weller was just skidding to a stop in front of her, wearing a slightly confused smile
"Jane," he repeated, a bit out of breath from hurrying over. "Hey."
*
Kurt Weller chased his nephew around the crowded ice of the Wollman rink, thinking how he hadn't done anything like this in years. Though he still thought it was very strange that Sarah won free tickets specifically for Christmas Day, especially since she couldn't remember having entered any contests and didn't even live in New York anymore.
But something something about looking a gift horse in the mouth, and what could be sinister about a family ice skating excursion on Christmas?
He hadn't been on skates since he was a kid but he hadn't forgotten how, though it took him a few times around to get his balance again. Sawyer wasn't bad either, considering he was only ten and hadn't been ice skating very many times. But Weller had to really keep an eye out for his sister who had already almost crashed into other skaters a few times that day.
He was scanning the crowd for Sarah when he spied a familiar movement at the edge of a group of people who were watching the skaters. He couldn't consciously determine what it was that he saw but Kurt knew he had to investigate and went over to check.
Weller tried to keep his eye on his target as he skated to the edge of the rink but it was difficult amongst the holiday crowds. Still, he was able to spot her just as she was turning to leave, easily identifying the way her body moved.
"Jane!" he hollered, unsure what to make of her appearance there.
It could just be a coincidence, he thought. Maybe she was out for a walk and happened to stop and watch.
Or maybe it was the universe trying to do him a favour.
Luckily Jane must have heard him, because she turned back towards the rink and watched as he thankfully managed to skid to a stop without falling.
"Jane," he called again, slightly out of breath. "Hey."
Jane smiled, coming down to meet him at the edge of the ice.
"Hey Kurt," she said, a bit shyly. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," he replied. "What are you doing here?"
Jane looked at him nervously and Weller wondered what she could possibly be worried about, before thinking how adorable she was with that little furrow in her brow.
Stop it, he admonished himself mentally. It was a constant battle to keep inappropriate Jane-related thoughts out of his head. Even after everything that had happened between them.
Maybe because of everything that had happened between them.
"This is going to sound weird," she started, pulling out her phone and showing him the indicator on her locator app. "But this started going off when I was with Roman and it was right outside the NYO so I followed it. And it led me here."
"You followed a lead on your own without knowing anything about it?" he exclaimed, already looking around the rink in alarm, searching for possible danger.
"Why didn't you call me?"
Jane sighed, pulling into a defensive posture.
"It's Christmas and I didn't want to disturb you if it turned out to be nothing. Which it did," she grumbled.
Dammit, he thought. He always did this, pissed her off by being overprotective.
Weller took a few deep breaths and told himself to calm down. It was Christmas, and nothing nefarious seemed to be happening at the ice rink. Plus, Jane was right there. What else could he want from life?
"Sorry," he apologized. "I just don't like the idea of you being out there on your own."
Jane's expression softened and she gave him a small shrug.
"Good thing it led me to you then," she said, her green eyes flickering playfully.
Every day he loved her more. He could admit that to himself now.
"We should find out if you know how to skate," he said, the line coming to him out of nowhere. "Someday it might be required for tactical purposes."
Jane flashed a sly grin and he knew he'd already won.
"Well, when you put it that way, it does seem pretty important to find out," she replied mock seriously.
Weller grinned, unsure what to make of of his good luck. But for once he wasn't going to let his worries get in the way.
"Let's get you some skates," he said.
They rented some skates for Jane and immediately Kurt knew he was in trouble. She laced them up like a pro and walked over to the ice confidently, then stepped onto the rink and started skating away from him faster than he could manage.
Goddammit, he thought. She was good at everything.
It was nice to have a goal though, someone to chase. Kurt dodged other skaters, keeping his eyes on Jane whipping about. But, try as he might, he couldn't catch up to her until she mercifully stopped.
"That was fun!" she gasped, her cheeks ridiculously pink.
"I guess ice skating is part of Navy SEAL training now," he commented, impressed by her as always.
Jane grinned and shrugged.
"Maybe I had to go undercover as a Canadian," she conjectured. "Part of the essential skill set."
Weller laughed at the impish look on her face; she looked more relaxed than he'd seen her in awhile. Things had been so dire for Jane ever since she escaped from the black site, her life constantly in danger. At least now she was done with being a double agent. He slept so much better knowing she wasn't out there alone with a bunch of terrorists.
He would sleep even better if she were close enough to personally observe.
Kurt shook the thought out of his head but couldn't stop himself from offering her his hand, feeling as nervous as a schoolboy. And his heart thumped in his chest when she snaked her fingers between his, grasping his hand tightly.
"So, you think you're qualified to catch a perp on skates?" Jane asked with a twinkle in her eye.
Not if that perp is you, for the crime of stealing my heart.
Thankfully Weller managed to keep his corny line to himself, again trying to shake the thought out of his head.
"I think I'll leave that one up to the undercover Canadians," he said instead.
They made their way around the rink a few more times, Jane tugging him along. Kurt was just looking around for his sister and his nephew when a teenage girl started skating right beside them.
"Kurt Weller?" the girl said. "This is for you."
She produced a plain white envelope and he took it without thinking, so bewildered by the situation that he didn't even notice the delivery girl skate away.
They slid to a stop and Weller looked at Jane in surprise. He could see that she was also confused, looking at the envelope with suspicion.
Unless it was some sort of chemical or biological agent, there wasn't much that could fit in the envelope in his hand. Really, it did not appear dangerous so Weller threw all caution to the wind and just opened it.
Inside was a pair of tickets to the rare Christmas Day NFL game that afternoon, the seats were even quite good. Kurt glanced around again, baffled, but the courier was long gone by then. All he saw was Jane, standing in front of him, a frosty rosy delight, biting her lower lip in anticipation.
He should have been suspicious, ready for some elaborate set up. But it was Christmas, and he had Jane right there, along with two tickets to the game in his hand.
It was a good thing his nephew and sister had other plans for the afternoon and wouldn't be into a NFL game anyhow.
"Bet you've never been to a football game," Weller said with a grin. "Beer and hot dogs are on me. But we can't tell Zapata and Reade about these tickets, they would give us so much crap about not being real football fans."
*
Tasha Zapata was not a holiday person - she just couldn't be bothered with all the lights and tinsel that had to come back down afterwards. And family gatherings generally led to too many insinuations about boyfriends and babies and the life she'd chosen.
Though she could get down with the whole drinking aspect of the season; in fact, saw alcohol as her only chance at surviving the ordeal.
Case in point, she was already a few drinks in and it was only early afternoon. She had started with a bloody Mary at breakfast, a little hair of the dog to chase away the remnants of the previous night. And then of course there was a celebratory mimosa, followed by another glass of champagne.
Tasha sighed, felt the need to both slow things down and speed it all up. She was not usually that hard a drinker, at least not anymore. It had been bad at one point, after her partner had died on the job while she was with the NYPD. But then alcohol had started to take a toll on her job performance and she had just managed to shut it down before it got in the way of her future. But really she'd only replaced one bad habit with another, more expensive one.
Since then she only drank socially and not usually to excess. But things had been stressful as fuck at work pretty much ever since Jane showed up just over six months ago. First with Carter blackmailing her then with Weitz doing the same shit. She was done with shady powerful men screwing with her life. She wanted the ability to take them all down.
The tattoos were such a mind fuck because of that. They pointed at corruption and created action, which Zapata loved. But Jane had been planted by terrorists, hell Jane was a terrorist before she wiped her own memory. It was still hard for Tasha not to think of Jane as anything but the Trojan horse she was meant to be. Especially with Weller being so insanely sure that Jane was on their side, unwilling to even consider the idea that she could be stringing them along.
But then again, when had Weller ever been objective about Jane? Even when she had just escaped the CIA and come back, he hadn't been able to shoot her, despite Jane trying to goad him into doing it. Tasha had stepped up with no qualms at all. In fact, she'd been more worried about stopping at one shot than she had been about shooting their former teammate.
Then ever since, Weller had trusted Jane. He'd been consistently worried for her, not about her. Even when he'd been angry as hell and said he didn't want Jane around. He'd obviously been disproportionately concerned about her and his support for her had never wavered.
It was hard for Tasha to wrap her head around, especially since what happened at the Sandstorm compound - the explosion that had caused so many deaths. She wanted to blame Jane, because she had led them there. And because she had started this all by lying to them in the first place. But Zapata knew deep down that Jane was with them, that she had been from the start. Sure, she had made mistakes but Tasha had fucked up too, by selling her teammate out to the CIA. She still felt guilty about that, and about sleazy fucking Matthew Weitz.
The truth was, Zapata just wanted to have someone to pin the blame on, someone that wasn't herself. Jane had gotten played, outed by her own plan, and her own recruit. But she had almost died too and was doing her best to fix the mistakes of her past. So it was hard to be too mad at her.
After all, none of them had suspected Borden of being a mole, so that was on them. Tasha shuddered, thought about how she had encouraged Patterson to go out with him. And now Patterson had been horribly hurt both physically and mentally, clearly still trying to repress all the trauma she had gone through. Zapata had even tried to convince her to spend Christmas together, because she knew her friend would spend the day working from home and hiding from the world. But of course Patterson had declined the invite, mumbling some excuse about having to skype with her parents.
Zapata sighed. She hated being half-cut and maudlin, just wanted to call Reade up and bitch to him about all the crap in their lives. But of course even that relationship had gone to shit since he had unexpectedly come on to her.
Now that was a topic she wasn't meant to think about. She had been so shocked in the moment, unsure how to respond. Her first thought had been 'this is a terrible idea'. Her second thought, 'but possibly terrible in a very good way'.
Of course she had run away instead of confronting it, cutting it off quickly and hopefully permanently so she wouldn't ever have to make that choice again. Because the thought of having a relationship with Reade made Zapata extremely nervous in a way she didn't want to explore.
Tasha shook her head, annoyed with herself. She was moping by herself on the couch while the rest of the family was in the kitchen helping prepare dinner. But the thought of joining in with them wasn't appealing either, it would just lead to more drinking and behaviour that she'd end up regretting.
Thankfully there was a knock on the door just at that moment and no one else could hear it due to the din in the kitchen. Zapata figured that any distraction was better than nothing, wondering who could be at the door on Christmas Day when everyone invited was already there.
She answered the door and it was a courier, with an envelope generically addressed to Female FBI Agent. Which made no sense at all, receiving mail not in her name, especially since she was at her grandma's house. But the courier didn't know anything about the package, just saying it was for a female FBI agent at that address before handing it to her and leaving.
Tasha did a visual inspection of the envelope, and then probed it with her fingers. It seemed like nothing except paper was inside. Which didn't mean there wasn't any risk but Zapata was drunk and curious, so she slit it open anyways.
Inside were two lower tier tickets to the NY Giants game that afternoon, great seats that she could never afford for herself. Zapata ran into the kitchen and interrogated her family until she was satisfied that none of them had any idea about where the envelope had come from. When it was clear that the tickets were a gift from an unknown deity, Tasha shrugged and decided it did not matter who had sent them, even if it was some sort of trap.
She was going to the football game! And of course she knew what she needed to do next. No matter how awkward things would be. If she went to the game without taking Reade, he would hold it against her for life. And really there was no one else she wanted to go with, even with the weirdness between them.
Zapata pulled out her phone, already dialing his number.
*
It had been a pretty shit year, Edgar Reade concluded as he watched his relatives argue about politics and the state of the government. Sometimes they seemed to forget he worked for the FBI, and that the whole distrust of authority thing pissed him off.
Though he had to admit he was seeing things in a different light since they had started investigating the tattoo cases. As screwed up as it was to be lead by terrorists into an anti-corruption effort, it had highlighted a lot of the problems in the system.
Then again the same terrorists had just tried to kill him, his leg still not quite a hundred percent after nearly two weeks of recovery. Though he was determined to go back to work after Christmas; he'd had enough of sitting around and thinking about all the things that had gone wrong in his life recently.
The whole Coach Jones situation. Freddy. That tape he hadn't watched yet. All this was hanging over his head, tinting every thought.
That and the other thing.
Zapata.
Damn. In some ways that was worse to think about than the possible childhood abuse he'd suffered. He hadn't talked to her since he'd made a move on her, mistaking her sympathy for something else.
Reade told himself it was the drugs, or emotional residue from almost dying in that explosion. That he didn't want to make out with his best friend, that he hadn't always wondered what it would be like if they fucked.
It was Tasha. His partner, his wingman. She was off limits and he'd screwed it up.
She would forgive him of course. But it was going to be awkward between them for awhile. Zapata was not going to want to talk about it, her disdain of any discussions involving feelings well documented. And she was going to bug him about it forever.
Reade sighed to himself, wishing he was anywhere else so that he could at least stop lying about how he injured his leg, escape from feeling so disconnected from his family.
Of course he really just wanted to be with Tasha, despite all the ribbing he would take from her. He couldn't stop thinking about waking up to her holding his hand, that worried expression on her face. It still made him feel less sorry for himself, even if he had messed it up afterwards.
Reade had just decided to have another drink in an attempt to knock all thoughts of Tasha Zapata of his head when his phone rang, and of course, it was Zapata.
"You have an hour to get to Metlife stadium, I have tickets to the game. Don't ask questions, don't tell me you can't ditch your cousins," she stated firmly. "I'll see you there."
Well, that was unexpected and slightly bewildering, he thought to himself. And yet, Zapata had said she had tickets to the game so it was a pretty big risk to ask questions, or challenge her conditions.
Reade pushed himself to his feet, making the rounds and effectively ditching his relatives with excuses of an urgent work matter. It was only half a lie, he figured. Tasha was from work and free tickets to an NFL game could certainly be construed as an urgent situation.
With that settled, he got an uber, wondering what the hell was going on. Zapata had sounded serious but possibly drunk. Which could go all kinds of sideways considering their recent history.
Damn, he hated overthinking things with Tasha. They had always been such good friends. He would just play it cool, act like nothing had happened unless she brought it up.
Reade got out of the car at the stadium, looked around and spotted Zapata right away. She saw him too and came walking over, waving the two tickets in her hand.
"Look at these seats!" she crowed, holding the tickets right up to his face. "I've never sat this close before."
"Where did these tickets come from?" Reade asked, his suspicions immediately aroused. There's no way Zapata got them from family, not at the price of NFL games those days. And she was obviously already way past tipsy, had that looseness to her body language.
"Courier showed up at my grandma's place, had an envelope for me," Tasha admitted. "All that was in it was the tickets."
"What?" Reade asked. "That's nuts, Tasha. Wait. This envelope just says Female FBI Agent, it's not even addressed to your name. And how did a courier know to go to your grandma's house with something for you? I can't believe you opened it, there could have been anthrax in there or something."
"You think I didn't think of that?" Zapata replied hotly. "But it felt like just paper, no powder or anything. And I was pretty drunk so I just went for it."
"Oh you're pretty drunk are you?" he teased. "I couldn't tell."
"Screw you, Reade," she replied easily. "So we going to this game or not?"
Damn, well obviously they were going to end up at the game, he realized. No matter how strange the circumstances of the tickets were. They were there and they had amazing seats.
"Well, it's really weird," he declared. "I think we should do our due diligence and check it out, make sure it's nothing."
Tasha grinned at him winningly and they headed into the stadium, searching for their seats. It was almost game time so they hurried, as fast as his healing leg could manage. Of course Zapata still managed to stop for drinks too, clearly getting ready for a rowdy time.
When they got nearer to their seats Reade started to feel a sense of something odd. He couldn't quite put his finger on it until he looked down the row at the only empty seats left and saw a strip of tattooed skin.
As he and Zapata made their way down to their seats, Weller and Jane stood up too, looking as confused as he was.
"What the hell are you guys doing here?" Tasha exclaimed loudly.
Weller shrugged, also looking suspicious but not overly worried. Which was unusual in itself.
"We were skating in Central Park when a teenager approached me with an envelope and then took off," he explained. "These tickets were in the envelope. What about you?"
"So weird, basically the same shit. Courier came to my grandma's place with an envelope for me," Tasha replied. "No way to trace it so I thought I better go to the game and rescue Reade from being a sad sack on Christmas."
Damn, she was pretty drunk already, Reade thought yet again.
"Wait, you guys were skating?" Zapata asked, switching tracks.
Both Weller and Jane started blushing, looking away shyly though it wasn't exactly a surprise to anyone. Even after she had been exposed as a liar, Weller still looked at her the same desperate way. The way that said I think about you all the time even though I know I shouldn't.
"Yeah well the locator tracker on my phone just started going off, and I followed it to the rink," Jane explained hastily. "And Weller was there with his sister and nephew but he made me go skating. For tactical purposes."
It was clearly an inside joke of some kind because Kurt grinned idiotically at her, the way he does when he thinks no one is looking.
"There's been a lot of strange things going on today," Reade concluded, looking at his teammates. "All of which to set us up to be here. Should we not be worried?"
He didn't want to be the guy who put a damper on things but they were fighting a terrorist organization with a huge reach. What if they were targeting the game and trying to take the team down with the rest of the stadium?
"Oh lighten up Eddie," Zapata said, stressing the nickname she liked to annoy him with. "It's Christmas and it's football. Look at these seats! And even Weller is drinking beer. So relax and take this."
She passed him a beer and he didn't have much choice but to let go of his misgivings, sit back and drink his beverage, enjoy the game and the fact that Tasha was too drunk to care about the current state of their relationship. After all, she was right. Even Weller seemed loose, was explaining the rules of football to Jane, leaning in closer than necessary even with the loudness of the crowd.
The game was a close one, with the Giants scoring first but the visiting Steelers coming right back to tie it. It went back and forth all game right up to the start of the fourth quarter, which started with the Giants up by three.
Tasha was trying to get a rise out of Weller by dissing the Pennsylvania-based football team with Jane looking on in amusement when the game went to commercial break on television and the in-arena entertainment started flashing on the jumbotron.
Reade looked up and saw that it was the Kiss Cam, groaned inwardly feeling like the universe was poking fun at his mistake. The camera flashed to a few different couples who all seemed happy to satisfy the crowd's desire to see smooching.
And then he saw a familiar hair flip on the screen, a toss of long brown strands that he would recognize anywhere.
"You're on the screen, Tasha!" he shouted, even though she was sitting right next to him.
Now he could see Weller too, and the cameraman was flashing between showing just Weller and Zapata on the screen to just Weller and Jane. It was clear what the question was, the only thing Reade was unsure about was whether Kurt had drunk enough beer to answer it.
What he had never anticipated was that Jane had drunk enough beer and had such epically low alcohol tolerance that she was the one to step up and answer the question for the cameraman. She leaned over and kissed Weller, tentatively for about a nanosecond before they were both all in, unstoppable.
Zapata grinned like a maniac watching, turned to Reade and winked.
"You think I should have gone for it before Jane jumped him?" she asked.
Reade laughed and looked back at the jumbotron just then, saw, to his dismay, that the kiss cam had only just moved over two seats and was firmly focused on Tasha and him.
Shit, he thought. Like a fucking nightmare come to life.
Or like a dream.
Because Zapata was now wasted, like probably not going to remember the second half of the game wasted. And so she reached up to pull him towards her, then was kissing him before he even realized what the hell was going on.
It took him half a moment to decide that he had better just go with it. To try and control Tasha at that point would have been pointless. And even if she did remember, there was no doubt who made the move this time.
Reade pulled her to him, the kiss lasting longer than he expected. It felt so good to be connected with Tasha at that level, so illicit too. He didn't want it to end, kept reaching for her lips even as she drunkenly pulled away, flashed him a self-satisfied look.
"I didn't do that," she slurred at him seriously.
Reade was still stunned, Weller and Jane too by all appearances. They all stared at Tasha in amazement, barely noticed as the jumbotron announced that they were all winners in the contest, that a team representative would be by shortly to give them their prizes.
When the prize arrived it was again just a plain envelope, with what appeared to be cardboard inside. No one even questioned the safety of the situation this time around and Reade opened the envelope to reveal five tickets to the Rockettes show at Radio City Music Hall that night.
Jane voiced what they must all have been thinking.
"That doesn't make any sense. There are four of us why would they give us five tickets?"
But of course none of it made any sense at all. From the tracker that had sent Jane to the ice rink, to the envelopes with the football tickets in them. The Broadway tickets were just another oddity along the way. And it was obvious to all of them who the fifth ticket was meant for.
So they all hopped into a cab, ready to spread their weird Christmas luck.
*
Patterson had reverted to an old coping mechanism. Whenever her feelings had overwhelmed her as a child, she had hidden away in her closet by herself. For whatever reason it had helped her feel like her emotions were contained within that space - that they couldn't follow her out into the world and upset her there.
Not that she was hiding in a closet. But her apartment was her closet now, or her lab at work. A place where she could hide away from the world and pretend it didn't exist. Trick herself into believing that none of the horrible things that had happened to her that year could hurt her.
She had lied to her family, telling them she had to work on Christmas so she couldn't make her usual visit home. There was no way she could have dealt with seeing her parents. She would have fallen apart with them, and they would have gotten it out of her somehow. The whole terrible ordeal, at least everything that wasn't classified. And there's no way Patterson could have dealt with that. She wasn't ready to tell her story, wasn't sure she ever would be.
So she had hidden away with junk food and her pain. Tasha had asked her if she wanted to spend Christmas with her but Patterson had declined her friend's well-intentioned invite. Like everyone else, Zapata just wanted to help. But Patterson wasn't the kind of person that accepted help easily, or at all.
She was already far into the second Lord of the Rings movie, the extended cut of course, when there was a knock at her door. Patterson considered who it could be at dinnertime on Christmas Day, then stopped to grab her service weapon on her way to the door.
Patterson opened it a crack and was not particularly surprised to find Tasha Zapata there, reeking of alcohol and hollering somewhat incoherently. She was, however, quite shocked to find Reade, Weller, and Jane on her doorstep as well, all of them also exhibiting various levels of inebriation.
They all yelled Merry Christmas at her together, a bit out of sync but overall it was still pretty adorable. Even when she was at her worst, at least her friends could make her smile. Especially when Zapata was rambling about the Giants game, the kiss cam, tickets to the Rockettes show and everyone else looked somewhere between self-satisfied and embarrassed.
"Wait, did you just say Jane and Weller won the kiss cam contest?" Patterson exclaimed, all her troubles put aside for the moment.
Jane blushed like crazy, then shook her head in desperate denial.
"No," she replied. "There's no way we would have won without Tasha and Reade jumping in on the action."
"What!" Patterson yelped. "I would have sat through football to see that."
"I was drunk!" Tasha shouted, as if it wasn't obvious. "And Jane's right, I totally won us these Rockettes tickets. So let's go. Our cab is waiting for you, Patterson."
Leaving her apartment and going to a cheesy Christmas Broadway show was the last thing that Patterson wanted to do. But she didn't want to argue with her team, especially with a wasted Zapata. And she had to admit it was kind of nice to see them all together on the holiday.
So Patterson quickly got ready to go out and they pulled up to the show just in time to get to their seats before it started. Just like the football tickets, their seats were great, the dancers right there in front of them.
The show was better than Patterson expected and she found herself getting into the magical dance scenes, especially because Jane was sitting beside her, as wide-eyed as a child watching the spectacle. Patterson thought about how nice it was to see everyone so comfortable with Jane again, that they were together for Christmas after such a brutal year for all of them.
Maybe it wasn't so bad that she wasn't able to complete the Lord of the Rings trilogy by herself, that these mysterious things had been happening to the team all day. Even though she felt like she should be more suspicious of everything and the oddness of it all. The rest of them seemed to have thrown all logic out the door, probably due to the holiday drinking. But Patterson was still on the lookout for some sort of trap, anything strange.
It finally happened near the end of the show, during the big finale. Patterson saw a man sneak onto the stage, pulling out a gun. Then another man stood up in the middle of the crowd and fired a shot into the air.
Both men started running after that and the team mobilized quickly despite the amount of alcohol still affecting them. They all pulled out their weapons and split up to chase the two different gunmen. Jane and Weller followed the guy from the stage while Patterson, Zapata and Reade chased the man in the crowd.
Patterson ran ahead, glad that at least someone was sober amongst the five of them. The man they were chasing made for the emergency stairs, then started heading up towards the roof. Patterson followed close behind, her gun drawn and ready for action.
When they finally got up to the roof, the man they were after was nowhere to be seen. Patterson, Zapata and Reade looked at each other, befuddled. There was no way he could have escaped them.
Just then, another door to the roof opened and Jane and Weller appeared out of it, looking just as confused as Patterson felt.
"What the hell?" Weller yelled. "I saw our target come up here, he would have run right into you guys. Where is he?"
"Same thing happened to us," Patterson replied. "We got on the roof and our guy had just disappeared."
She tried to say something more but found herself being drowned out by the sound of an incoming helicopter. Patterson looked up to see what looked like an FBI chopper about to land on the same roof they were on. The team all pulled back to a safe distance and stared at each other, clearly all baffled by the situation.
When the helicopter finally landed, an FBI agent jumped out and called out their names, said there was an urgent situation that their presence was needed for. Weller questioned the agent and seemed to be satisfied with the answers he got because he waved them into the chopper, told them all it seemed legit.
Except for the part where no one at the FBI could have known that they would be at the Rockettes show, much less on the roof at that exact moment. Unless Weller had called it in, but even so, that seemed like a huge stretch.
Patterson exhaled worriedly, wondered what they were getting themselves into. Her teammates were still somewhat drunk and they weren't properly armed or dressed for a mission. Yet she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else at the moment, certainly not at home alone while her friends were together on a sketchy Christmas field op. Despite the large possibility that they were walking straight into an elaborate trap.
*
As her beer buzz started to fade and the situation became less shrouded with alcohol, worry began to creep up Jane's neck. Even though Weller had checked the agent's ID and authorization, none of it made any sense at all. How could a helicopter have known that they would be chasing disappearing suspects on the roof of Radio City Music Hall?
But at least she was the team. Christmas had already been better than expected, even if it did end up with them abducted. Jane flushed at the memory of skating with Weller, his hand warm in hers. Then reaching up to kiss him in front of an entire stadium full of people. She still couldn't believe she had done that. Well, yes she could. She had been quite drunk and it's not like she didn't still think about how perfect it had felt, the first time she found a moment just for them. Right before her life got exponentially complicated.
The helicopter began to descend in a densely wooded area, presumably in upstate New York based on the direction and time traveled. When it landed, there was nothing nearby except a cabin, all lit up with Christmas lights on the outside.
They all got out of the chopper and it flew away without giving them any more information on why they were there. The pilot had claimed to know nothing except that where he was meant to drop them off, and that further instructions would be given once they arrived.
Everyone drew their weapons and they split up into groups to do a perimeter check of the building before entering. Jane and Weller went around back, seeing that the cabin had a nice deck and a fire pit, with a bonfire already going, and more wood piled nearby. They approached the back door and the windows that looked out onto the deck. It didn't appear that anyone was inside, but it was lit and prepped for festivities.
Jane reached for the doorknob, and wasn't all that surprised to find it unlocked. The day had been extremely strange already - she was no longer shocked by anything.
When she opened the door and walked into the cabin Jane was assaulted by multiple aromas all at once. The scents of roasted turkey and pine trees and spiced cider tickled her nose as she looked around to see a full Christmas dinner laid out on the table, along with copious amounts of alcohol, and mistletoe. A lot of mistletoe.
Jane looked at Weller, and saw that he appeared to be as confused as she was. Just then the rest of the team entered the cabin through the front door and they all stood around staring at the table full of food, as well as the absurd amount of decorations.
"What's that?" Patterson asked, pointing at a package in the middle of the table.
It was a slim gift-wrapped item, arranged as the centrepiece with a placard that said "The Gang". Weller grabbed it and tore off the paper.
"It's a tablet," he stated, handing it to Patterson.
Patterson took the device and looked it over, powered it up.
"It's only got one video on it," she reported.
"Well play it," Zapata urged. "So we can start drinking again."
Patterson pressed play on the video and a familiar face appeared on the screen, followed by his equally familiar, grating voice. Weller groaned as soon as he heard who it was and Jane sighed as well, shaking her head in exasperation.
"Merry Christmas my FBI friends! Or Happy Hannukah, if you prefer, though I think that was done days ago and none of you present as Jewish. Anyways, happy holidays from your friendly neighbourhood felon, I hope you've all had a better day than I've had. Which isn't exactly hard considering I'm enjoying the fine amenities of the federal penitentiary system. Not that I'm complaining, but there isn't a lot of opportunity to go ice skating or to a football game or to a Broadway musical. Or even just to have Christmas dinner with your family."
Patterson pressed pause and they all looked at each other, stunned.
"Rich did this? How?" Weller grunted irritably. "He's in prison. And why would he do this?"
"I bet he tells us," Reade commented dryly. "Let's hear what else he's got to say."
Patterson pressed play again and the video of Rich continued.
"So I bet you guys are wondering how I did this all from my cold lonely prison cell. But what you should be asking is why I did this all from my cold lonely prison cell. Because the thing is, criminals, they really can be such gossips. And word on the street was my favourite FBI team just took some hits so I thought to myself, Rich, it is your duty to give your good friends at the bureau a Christmas together. So I did this for you. Well, really, I did it for Stubbles and Jane but they're such suckers for the rest of you that I couldn't leave anyone out. Well, except for that scary NSA lady, I definitely left her out. That was for you, Jane."
Rich paused and winked at that point, leaving time for everyone to stare at Jane and Weller who were both blushing, trying not to look at each other. Jane shook her head and bit down hard on her lower lip trying to tame the pitter patter that her heart made at Rich's words.
"So that's it. I did this all so you guys would spend Christmas together, like a family should. Well, that and you know, there's the whole I scratch your ass, you scratch mine kind of thing. I figure a favour owed by my FBI compadres is always a plus. Also, on an unrelated note, did you know I get conjugal visits? Jane, Weller, that's for your info. Although I think it's a one at a time thing in here, the federal prison system isn't in on threesome cultures yet, they're not very progressive that way."
Jane looked at Kurt, could see his jaw grinding as he glared at the image of Rich. She had to grin though, as much as Rich annoyed the crap out of her too, at least he was consistent. And he had done a very thoughtful expensive thing for them, somehow giving them all a great day at a difficult time.
"Anyways, that's all I wanted to say from my sad cold corner of the inmate world. Please think of me while you enjoy the luxuries of the outside. And the next time we meet, remember I could have had you all killed instead of sending you on a romantic adventure."
With that the screen went dark and Christmas music came on to replace Rich's voice. For a moment they all just looked at each other trying to process what had happened. But then Tasha grabbed a bottle of wine off the table and started pouring herself a glass, so Weller shrugged and popped open beer for himself too. After that they took down the dinner in record time, Jane eating more than she ever had in a single sitting and then getting laughed at by the rest of the group by moaning about how much she regretted her second plateful.
"Oh my god, she doesn't know about wearing pants with elastic waistbands for holidays," Zapata exclaimed. "Or about saving room for dessert."
Jane joined in the laughter because she genuinely didn't know about either of those things; had never considered eating so much that her pants would feel uncomfortable. Or that there could be another whole course after the huge amount of food they'd already eaten. Usually when she was reminded of her lifetime of missing memories Jane would feel empty and disconnected. But this time she suspected she had never had a Christmas as full of happiness before - that the previous holidays of her life had not been full of turkey and pumpkin pie.
After dinner, Jane felt the need to move around a bit so she walked out back for some fresh air and added some wood to the fire that had died down while they were eating. Once the bonfire was going again she stood by it absorbing the warmth and watching the flickering flames.
She heard the patio door open and looked up to see Weller walking towards her. Rich's innuendo came back to her in the moment and she almost blushed again. Despite the fairy tale day, and the ridiculous kiss cam situation, Jane knew that Kurt wasn't hers, would likely never be. His trust in her was still fragile, he had barely just started treating her as a friend again. And he was sleeping with Nas, pretty clearly not looking to start a relationship with a former terrorist.
Weller came to stand next to her at the fire, huddling up close to her and looking up at the sky.
"It's starting to snow," he commented, a lazy smile on his face.
She loved seeing him like that, so at ease with everything. She knew things had been hard for him lately, that he was troubled by Shepherd's role in his life. It had to have been terrible to find out you'd been watched from afar, every since you were a kid. And despite the merry atmosphere and alcohol, she felt bad about having planned it all with Shepherd, no matter what she was doing to counter it now.
"Yeah, it's so pretty," she replied.
Jane looked up at Weller, wondered if he had come out to talk to her for a reason. She wished things could be easy between them again, that she could heal all the hurt wrought by her lies. But she had broken a fundamental trust between them and she didn't know if Kurt could ever truly forgive her for everything she had done, everything she kept from him.
She was still searching for something to say when Weller turned to look at her, wearing a slightly anxious expression. Jane braced herself for some sort of disappointment, though she couldn't imagine what she was so afraid of. Kurt had been so kind to her all day, so she supposed she was just worried because the fairy tale had to end some time.
"So, um, Jane," Weller started, glancing at her nervously. "I know we didn't talk about this, and I don't want to put you on the spot."
Now she was really confused, her shoulders starting to tense up with fear about whatever bomb he's about to drop on Christmas, of all days.
"What are you talking about Kurt?" she managed to squeak out, her heart rate ramping up with anticipation.
Weller sighed, pulling something out of his pocket.
"I got you something for Christmas. I know, I shouldn't have, so there's no reason to feel bad that you didn't get me anything. But I saw it and it made me think of you. It was an impulse thing and it was probably a mistake. And then I brought it skating because I wanted to figure how to give it to you without it being weird and so I had it here with me..."
"Kurt, you're rambling," Jane interrupted, taking the small box from his hand, feeling her heart flutter.
Weller had given her something in a similar box before and the moment caught in her chest, stopped her in her tracks. But she could tell that this was something different, that it was something for her, not Taylor.
Jane opened the box to reveal a vibrant green gemstone, cut sharp and shaped like a miniature dagger. She pulled the pendent out to admire it closely, run her fingers admiringly over the sharp edges.
"Kurt, it's gorgeous," she said. "But I can't accept this."
Kurt silently reached out to take the necklace from her and put it around her neck.
"Yes it is," he agreed. "And yes you can."
"It's the colour of your eyes," he murmured in her ear. "And its beautiful, but deadly. Just like you."
Maybe Christmas really was a magical season. Or maybe she was just delusional.
But either way, Weller was saying absurd things to her and Jane was going to run with it.
"I love it," she replied, unable to form any more coherent words. "Thank you, Kurt. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything."
Weller shook his head, smiled at her winningly.
"This day together, being here right now to give it to you. That's everything I could have wanted," he replied.
Honestly it's everything she could have wanted too. This day with her team, the people she considered to be her family. And time with Kurt, without the endless stress of their regular lives.
Still Jane wished she had gotten something for him, just had never thought that he would buy her a Christmas present. Especially something that was so thoughtful, and, by all appearances, expensive too. She had thought about whether she was meant to buy something for Kurt but wouldn't have been able to get him anything much, considering her meagre asset stipend. Still, she could have drawn him something, or tried her hand at baking something chocolatey. Now though, it was obviously too late to remedy the situation.
Or was it?
For an instant Jane's mind turned to the gaudy Christmas decorations in the cabin, then to her own favourite memory of the day.
She looked at Weller wistfully, glad he couldn't read what was going on in her mind. They were friends again and that was already more than she expected. And he wasn't hers, no matter how much she wanted him.
But that moment of letting it all go, reaching up for his lips in front of a roaring stadium. It kept coming back to her, taunting her.
'What would Rich do?'
The question flashed through her mind, seemingly out of nowhere. And there was clearly only one answer.
"This is everything that I want," she replied as she reached her arms up around Kurt's neck, pulling him towards her until their lips met.
Again, the kiss was soft and shy to start but Weller's initial surprised hesitation only lasted a split second before his hands came up to her face, and his mouth started exploring hers hungrily.
Jane had never felt more connected, passionate, content. Being wrapped up in Kurt, the heat of his body warming her in intense unfamiliar ways. She tugged him to her fiercely and ran her fingers down the back of his neck, trying to permanently record the moment in her memory.
She was just thinking she could just stand there and make out with Kurt forever when the patio door opened again and she heard Zapata's voice hollering a half-joking warning about no more kissing.
Weller pulled away at the interruption, then looked at her with dazed eyes.
Jane grinned, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth playfully at him.
"Merry Christmas, Kurt," she whispered.
Weller broke into a huge smile, slinging his arm around her shoulders.
"This whole day was a dream right?" he replied. "I'm pretending none of this ever happened."
Jane knew what he meant, and felt the same way herself as the rest of the team came up to join them around the fire. It was Christmas and she was with her family, wrapped up in Kurt Weller's arms, with him insisting that she's too thin and needed to be kept warm.
So, of course, Jane chose to not tell him that it was already the warmest she had felt in ages - that she couldn't possibly dream up a better Christmas. Instead she just snuggled into Kurt, mentally thanking their felonious frenemy for the most absurdly wonderful day of her life.
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ah. that hug... never gets old. but also, more hugs required (of course I couldn’t resist!)
2.10
Pellington walked off and Weller's heart rate finally started to drop.
He hadn't been at all sure that his threat would work - there had been no way of knowing whether Pellington still valued him enough. But apparently he wasn't yet replaceable, and had bought his team some time to regroup and move forward.
Weller's mind flashed through all that had gone wrong in the past two days, all the agents that had died. He'd almost lost Reade and Patterson in separate incidents; Nas too.
He couldn't help feeling protective of the NSA agent, even though he didn't entirely agree with many of her tactics. They needed her on the team, and he felt obligated to defend her. Briefly, his mind flashed through their relationship, which, like usual, just left him with a head full of questions.
Sharing a bed with her was a little like sleeping with the enemy. Not that they were antagonistic toward each other; in fact, they worked together better than he thought possible, considering their differences in opinion. She even seemed to be getting more attached to him than he anticipated, and he hadn't ended things even though it never felt quite right.
You know why.
Weller frowned, resisting the thought. And yet, his eyes locked onto Jane and his heart contracted.
Of all the near misses, none of them had scared him more.
She was still quietly talking to Roman, soothing him with her touch. For a moment Kurt flashed back to Jane walking out of the elevator that morning; how he'd crushed her to him without hesitation, as she'd stuttered out apologies.
The relief he'd felt had been undeniable. Unlike all those close calls since she'd been back, he hadn't been able to ignore how much she still meant to him.
So of course he couldn't let Pellington send Roman off with the CIA, even if it meant putting his own job on the line. Jane would never have forgiven herself for bringing her brother in, if he ended up in a black site. She already had so much weighing on her that Kurt wasn't sure how she'd managed to hold it all together. But it was clear that he needed to start stepping up.
Weller pulled out his phone and made a couple of quick calls to get things arranged. Then, with that dealt with, he walked back down to where Jane was standing with Roman, gently keeping him calm.
She glanced up as he approached and flashed him a grateful look. Kurt smiled to himself, secure in having made the right decision. The appreciation in Jane's expression was well worth the risk he'd taken.
Weller explained that they were preparing a space for Roman but it would take some time. He led them both back into the interrogation room and asked Roman to wait there while they got things ready.
Jane offered to stay with her brother but an internal pull made Kurt say he needed her in the meantime. Which wasn't exactly true, at least not with the case, as he'd implied. And yet, in a different way, it was far too true.
Walking out of the room, Jane reassured Roman that she would be back soon. Then, just as the door closed behind them, she turned to Weller, looking up at him with big jade eyes.
"Thank you," she sputtered. "I can't let him get taken to a black site. He's my brother."
But that gratitude that had just felt so rewarding, suddenly turned to dust in his mouth. Jane's determination just reminded Kurt that he hadn't done anything to save her from that same fate. The guilt of that thought always made him hunker down emotionally, so his reply came out more sharply than he intended.
"They wouldn't get anything out of him. Not even if he does get his memories back."
He could feel Jane tense up beside him and Weller silently cursed himself for saying something so insensitive. He'd done his best to not think about what had been done to her, what he had let happen on his watch. But now, that mental image was just sitting in his mind, refusing to be ignored. Jane, strung up and beaten, for not having any answers for the CIA.
Weller gulped hard and changed his tone.
"No one deserves to be tortured, no matter what they've done. Roman needs to trust us when he starts remembering things. I know you'll be able to connect with him."
Jane glanced back towards the closed door, obviously unsure.
"He's so angry," she said.
"Even after the ZIP. Maybe I made the wrong choice."
"Jane, if you hadn't done it, he'd be long gone. At least this way we have a chance at finding out what he knows."
As frustrating as it was, Weller recognized that she'd been in a tough position. Though he did question why she didn't sedate and restrain him instead of using the ZIP, the answer was obvious. She'd wanted to give him the same chance she'd had to be a different person.
"But what if he doesn't remember anything? What if he remembers what I did? I just took away his whole life and got him locked up. He'd probably kill me on the spot if he knew."
She was slipping, losing herself to anxiety. Weller could see the desperation growing in her expression as everything that had happened over the past two days finally caught up to her.
There were no answers to her questions, and Kurt knew he had no words to settle her soul. So instead, he stepped forward and pulled her into him.
###
"But what if he doesn't remember anything? What if he remembers what I did? I just took away his whole life and got him locked up. He'd probably kill me on the spot if he knew."
Jane was standing outside the interrogation room with Weller when it all hit her at once. The endless stream of what ifs, loaded on top of everything she'd already messed up.
She'd almost delivered Roman right to the CIA. That realization punched her hard, right in the gut.
Even though Weller had just fixed things as best he could, and she should feel relieved. Instead, it had all come crashing down on her, the moment Jane started processing everything that had just happened.
Kurt was saying something about connecting with Roman and she understood he was trying to settle her. But it was not enough and too late. Because she was already spiralling, anxiety having taken over both her body and mind.
It had been such a desperate move, borne of both hope and despair. She had just wanted to give Roman a chance at a different life. Yet, acting on her best intentions had been screwing things up a lot lately.
So of course giving Roman the ZIP had almost immediately backfired. He wasn't much less dangerous now that he couldn't remember anything; and she had put him in the same vulnerable position she'd once been in. At the mercy of the government, without access to the information they wanted.
Jane couldn't help shuddering at the flash of memory that surged through her just then. Keaton trying and failing to beat answers out of her. She felt her shoulders tense up, and did her best to push away the claustrophobic feeling that encroached when she thought about the black site.
But the thought of putting Roman through that just pushed her deeper into the dark hole that was sucking her in. If Kurt hadn't stepped in, she wasn't sure what she would have done. And yet, the risk he was taking just weighed on her even more. He could so easily be the next one damaged by her actions; another casualty of her mistakes.
She'd fallen for Shepherd's plan completely and dragged everyone into danger. All those agents lost in the ambush. Reade and Patterson. Roman, too.
Her chest was suddenly so tight, it seemed impossible that she was still managing to get air in. Alarmed, Jane looked up at Weller wordlessly, unsure if he would understand her silent plea. She didn't even know what he could do to help; all she knew was the panic was caving in on her.
But of course, concern was immediately reflected in the blue of his eyes as he watched her flail. A little frown appeared on his brow too, and then he stepped forward with open arms.
It was everything Jane wanted and yet there was something inside her screaming that she didn't deserve any comfort. Not after falling for Sandstorm's plan and costing them all so much.
Weller didn't bother to wait though. Just like that morning, he strode right up to her and crushed her to him.
For a moment Jane's internal battle continued, but then the familiar weight of him, gripping her tight, became impossible to resist. She crumbled into him as he pulled her even closer, and then started running his palm along the back of her neck.
His touch made her spine tingle, and yet it soothed her at the same time. Jane could feel her breathing slowing down, and the pounding in her ears receded enough that she realized Weller had been offering her quiet encouragement the entire time.
Her shoulders finally began to relax a little, as her breath slowly returned to normal. Weller must have felt it too, because he started to loosen his hold on her, silently asking if she wanted to step away.
That was not what she wanted though. She'd missed it all so much. The luxury of his support, the warmth of his touch.
Jane thought back to earlier that day, how hard he'd hugged her when she finally made it back to the NYO. She'd been babbling apologies when he pulled her to him, believing her without question. But, at that point, she'd been so surprised by his actions and frantic with questions that there hadn't been time to enjoy the feeling of being in his arms.
Now, she could allow herself the comfort of it, everything she'd missed so much. So Jane tightened her grip on him, and Kurt responded by brushing his lips against her hair, so gently she could sense his smile.
"Are you okay?" he asked, so quiet it was mostly air.
Jane kept hugging him fiercely; all of her guilt and worry still trying to push through.
"I don't know," she said.
"How about you?"
She knew he would have taken it hard, not being there with the team and almost losing Reade and Patterson. He took his role as a leader to heart, even if it meant he sometimes cared too much and carried too much of it on his own.
Weller took a breath and exhaled audibly.
"I'm okay," he replied.
"It hurts. Losses always do. But we all made it through. That's what's important."
Jane looked up, wondering if she was hearing him right. The way he'd inflected the words had made it sound directed at her. Yet she was still a little surprised to be met with such an intense gaze.
"I was so worried, Jane," Kurt sputtered.
"There was no reason for Shepherd to let you live."
Oh.
She'd never considered that it was for him. That he needed this physical connection between them as much as she did. That he really would miss her if she was gone.
But she felt it now, and was starting to think it could actually be true.
"Thank you," Jane finally said.
"For believing in me."
It had been a long and dark road. But she was beginning to see some light. Especially when Weller tugged her even closer, grazing his lips against her temple as he whispered his response.
"Thank you. For coming back to me."
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one more... and I’m finally caught up! this instalment is my version of “what we were all thinking about the whole gender reveal party”. oh and thanks @indelibleevidence, reading your token appearance short (which was awesome, can’t wait for more) made this whole thing pop into my head.
2.8
Weller arrived home, still trying to work himself into the right mindset for the party that night. It had already been a long and difficult day and he was looking forward to slamming back a drink or two before having to play host to a houseful of people.
Allie was already there prepping things when he walked in the door, but she stopped putting up decorations and came over to greet him.
"Hey," she said, inspecting him closely.
"Are you sure you're up for this?"
He hadn't told her much about what had happened that day, though obviously he'd done a little bragging about having arrested Nico Marconi. It had also helped to explain why he wasn't able to get there until later than expected - there had been a lot of details to wrap up after arresting such a highly wanted criminal.
"I'm fine," Kurt sighed.
"What happened out there anyways?" Allie asked.
Weller groaned to himself. She didn't need to know that he'd been captured and put up for auction on the dark web, that he'd almost not made it to the party at all.
"It's a long story," he said, thinking about everything that had happened that day.
It had felt so right, he'd almost forgotten what it was like. Him and Jane; working perfectly in sync. Well, except for when he'd lied to her and ditched her on the pier.
For a moment his mind flashed back to Jane earnestly telling him that no one would miss her if she died. Even now, her words made him flinch.
It wasn't any surprise she thought that, but hearing her state it so matter of factly had made his heart hurt. So he'd taken the choice from her. And now he needed to convince her that she was wrong, after being the one that made her feel that way.
"Oh, I invited Jane," Weller added, thinking it would deflect attention away from questions about the mission.
But judging from the look Allie was wearing, he'd only just added to his problems.
"You what?" she asked.
"Wow. You're serious."
She was shaking her head in disbelief, and Weller started to feel annoyed at whatever Allie wasn't saying.
"What?" he asked. "I thought you liked Jane, I didn't think you would mind."
Allie sighed loudly, still looking at him like he was missing something obvious.
"I don't mind, Kurt. But what made you think she would want to come?"
When she put it that way, Weller realized he hadn't considered that at all.
He had just spent a lot of time thinking about what she'd said on the dock, especially while tied to that chair. Realizing at some point that he was largely to blame for how isolated she felt. Which had, in turn, spurred him to invite her to the party.
"I think I've been too hard on her," he replied. "She's part of the team and we're trying to get over the past. I wanted to show her I still care."
He didn't think it was possible, but Allie somehow managed to look even more incredulous at his explanation.
"Do I really have to say this out loud?"
"What."
"You wanted to show Jane you care about her, by inviting her to a party for your baby?"
He was getting the sense that he'd really messed up. Yet still he couldn't quite pinpoint what he'd done wrong.
"Kurt. You have a good heart but you can be so clueless," Allie sighed, as she turned away from him, still shaking her head.
"Well you invited her, it's your job to make sure she feels comfortable being here."
Allie walked off to hang more streamers, leaving him to his own befuddled thoughts.
What was he not understanding?
Weller thought back to the O'Malley case, remembering Allie telling him how upset Jane had initially looked when she found out about the baby.
But since she'd never shown him any of that, Kurt hadn't really given it any consideration. Though, now that he was thinking about it, these days Jane didn't show him much of what she was feeling, except when she was pissed off at him.
Or except when she was trying to sacrifice herself for him.
Her steely selflessness was such a contrast to the inner vulnerability she tried to hide.
"No one would miss me."
Hell, he would miss her so much. At some point that day, he'd even started admitting it to himself. And inviting her to the party had been his way of trying to tell her.
But, according to Allie, he'd already screwed things up. Which just made him more uncomfortable with the upcoming event.
Weller sighed, and got started prepping the bar area while still trying to work out what he could do to remedy his error. It was his mess; he'd better come up with some way to fix it.
###
Jane slipped out not long after the cake had been eaten, breathing a sigh of relief as she left Weller's apartment. Not only had the entire ritual been strange, she had felt so awkward and vulnerable watching Kurt play the proud father, living a life she would likely never have.
She supposed the gender reveal party was just part of the whole thing, a part of what new parents were expected to do. Even if it was weird, and seemed out of character for both Kurt and Allie.
Jane closed her eyes for a moment, trying to wash away the hurt. She wished it didn't still sting to think about him having a baby someone else. But it was hard, especially after the mission they'd just been on.
They had worked so well together all day that she'd almost forgotten about the distance between them. And then there was what happened on the dock.
Her mind flashed back to telling him she should be the one to go, that no one would miss her if she died. To her, it had just been the obvious truth. She wasn't accepted or cared about by either side; just a useful agent for both.
It had seemed to bother Kurt though. Not only had he deked her out with his little lie, he'd then made a point to invite her to the party. Which had been sweet. But so so awkward.
And now she was running away, thankful to have made an appearance and survived the experience. But as Jane stepped towards the elevator, she heard the door open again and froze.
"Jane."
Shit.
She turned to face him, trying to come up with something to say.
"Oh, yeah sorry about leaving without saying goodbye," she mumbled. "I just um…"
"No, I'm sorry, this is all my fault," Weller replied, cutting her off.
"I didn't really think this through."
He really did look sorry, which in turn made her feel bad. He should be inside having a good time, not out there apologizing to her.
She wondered if he had figured it out on his own, or if Allie had said something. Either way, this was not a conversation she wanted to have.
"It's okay, Kurt. Go back to the party."
Weller looked over his shoulder, then back at her. Just then the elevator arrived and Jane thought she'd dodged the moment. Until she felt him step up to her, instead of heading back to his apartment.
"I'll walk you out," he said.
Jane shook her head, a little smile tugging at her lip.
"It's really not necessary."
Weller walked her into the elevator, his arm lightly corralling her in.
"Yeah, it is," he replied, a bit sheepishly.
The elevator started descending and Jane waited nervously, giving him an expectant look. What could possibly be so important that he left the party to tell her?
When he finally started speaking though, she was doubly confused.
"Thanks for coming," he started.
"It was uh. Maybe not my best idea."
Weller actually looked quite worried, which was cute but so unnecessary. She understood he'd been trying to do something nice, even if it had made her feel conflicted. She wasn't going to hold his obliviousness against him when his intentions were good.
Again Jane wondered what had made him realize. She hoped it wasn't anything she'd done while at the party; she'd done her best to socialize and smile at all the right moments, even when her heart wasn't quite into it.
"Kurt, it's okay," she repeated.
"It was nice of you to invite me."
Weller kept at it though, wearing a little frown.
"Yeah. I just…"
He paused, his expression turning more thoughtful.
"I just didn't like what you said at the dock. Because… I would miss you a lot, Jane."
"I don't think I've been making that clear enough. But sorry if I um, put you in an awkward spot."
Oh Kurt.
God, she missed him.
The elevator doors opened just then and Weller stepped out with her. Jane felt a mixture of things, but mostly guilt. Both for taking him away from the festivities and for making feel like he needed to apologize for doing something nice.
"Thank you," Jane said. "For caring enough to try."
"Now go, they're all going to think you ditched your own party."
For a split second, it looked like he actually considered it. But then Weller just nodded and stepped back into the elevator.
"Good night Jane," he said, with that sideways smile she missed so much.
Jane walked off, stirring with emotions. She still felt sad and lonely, but Kurt's repeated gestures did warm her up a bit. At least he did care, even if he didn't exactly know how to show it.
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getting reeeeeally close to being caught up... couple little Rich-involved scenes this time, cause he’s so fun to write :P
2.7
"She's coming back. She's going to be fine."
Hearing that Zapata was going to be okay, Jane grabbed onto Weller's wrist, just as he remembered to breathe again. He'd almost lost one of his team, due to his own mistake.
When Jane let go of him, Kurt stepped back against the wall and looked skyward. He forced himself to take a moment, in an attempt to slow down his head.
Everything had happened so fast and he'd been acting on instinct. But Weller couldn't help thinking that he'd almost screwed up massively by killing the Akkadian before they'd gotten the information needed to save Tasha. Not that he'd meant to stab the man in the heart, but it had absolutely seemed necessary when the weapon had been meant for Jane.
Kurt brought his hands to his face, rubbing his closed eyelids as if that would clear his mind. He tried to remind himself that Zapata was okay and that the Akkadian would likely have just stonewalled them anyways. But he still felt like he'd fucked up.
Running his hands through his short hair, Weller shook himself back into the present and looked over at Jane, who was absently wiping blood off of her face. Frowning, he opened his mouth to tell her she should get checked out when his thought was interrupted by the irritating voice he hoped to never hear again after that day.
"That was close for what's her name. I thought she was a goner after you killed the Akkadian. But that's what I love about you, Stubbles. You're a man of action. Jane's in danger, you don't think twice. Bam. Right in the heart."
Weller glared at the loudmouthed criminal. Rich's knack for picking up on unspoken thoughts was something that really got under his skin.
"See Jane, what did I say?"
"Shut up, Rich," Jane fired back.
Thanks Jane, Weller said to himself. He didn't trust himself to deal with Rich Dotcom at the moment. Because it was true, when he'd seen Jane in a dangerous position with a knife in the assassin's hand, fear and instinct had taken over.
Jane stepped over to where he was standing and leaned beside him, a little tentatively.
"Thanks," she said.
Her presence settled him, despite the emotional distance between them. He just always felt more secure when she was within sight.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You're still bleeding."
Jane reflexively lifted her hand to the cut on her nose and did her best to brush away the blood.
"It looks worse than it is," she replied dismissively.
Weller frowned. He knew how hard the Akkadian hit; his own body was already pretty sore from the blows he'd taken.
"You should go get it looked at."
Jane sighed.
"I'm fine, Kurt."
Weller had just opened his mouth to order her to see the doctor when he was interrupted by another of Rich's commentaries.
"I still can't believe you guys actually took out the Akkadian. I really am a genius. Do you even know his stats? Like you both so badass. But Jane… she's like a freaking warrior princess. Where do you even get moves like that?"
Jane turned to look at Weller, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. But for once, Kurt wasn't entirely pissed off with Rich's fanboying. In this case, he was actually right there with Rich Dotcom.
"It was pretty badass," he agreed. “Those moves were next level.”
Jane shook her head dismissively, with a sad glint in her eyes. For a long time it seemed like she wasn't going to say anything, but finally she furrowed her brow and replied.
"It was... like a dream," she said.
Weller waited for her continue, or clarify her comment. But Jane just gave him one more wistful look before stepping away.
He didn't like the sense of defeat in her words, even if he didn't know what they meant. But, as usual those days, he also didn't know what to say to her. So Kurt watched her walk off and then went over to grab Rich; making sure to give the criminal a few extra shoves to compensate for having to listen to him all day.
###
The air in the SUV was heavy with tension on their way back to the NYO. Jane sat in the front passenger seat, feeling irritated even though they had managed to arrest both Rich Dotcom and his accomplice, Boston Crabb. It certainly didn't help that Weller had insisted on separating the two and then personally transporting Rich back to holding just in case the criminal had any more shenanigans up his sleeve. And somehow Jane had been assigned to that vehicle too, probably for her ability to keep the loudmouth in line.
But of course that meant it was a perfect set up for Rich to get under their skin one more time. And Jane was already plenty pissed off.
As if on cue, she heard Rich start talking from the back seat and saw that he was watching them in the rear view mirror.
"Do you really think I can't change?" he asked petulantly. "That hurts my feelings."
Jane could feel his eyes on her but forced herself not to acknowledge him at all. Rich's comments hit far too close to home, which of course annoyed the crap out of her.
She had been hurt by Weller's snarky comment; especially because she needed to believe that people could change. Maybe not Rich Dotcom. But she wanted to have faith in Roman. And she needed Kurt to have faith in her.
But her request to try and turn Roman had been denied. And things with Weller felt like a process of two steps forward and one step back. She didn't know if they would ever get back to real trust between them.
"I don't give a crap about your feelings," Weller growled.
"No, that's clear," Rich commented airily.
"You don't give two shits about anyone's feelings right now."
"Enough, Rich," Weller warned.
"And I don't think you can change. You only think about yourself and use everyone to meet your needs. That's who you are."
It was hard not to hear the insinuation in Kurt's words, especially when he'd been making comments like that ever since she'd returned. But lately, Jane had been wondering if she was just extra sensitive due to the state of their relationship and all her self doubt.
"Ohhh…" Rich said, as if finally cluing in to something big.
"Is that what happened with Jane? She wasn't who you thought she was?"
Silently, they both turned to glare at Rich for a moment. Which of course only made him look all the more delighted.
"We're not talking about Jane," Weller growled through gritted teeth.
But then, after a short pause, he continued; as if he couldn't help himself.
"Jane, is a good person," he stated firmly.
"She's the one that wanted to give you a chance. And she just risked her own life to save yours, when she didn't have to."
Oh, well that was a surprise.
She hadn't expected any support from Weller; especially after messing up the mission with the chip and pushing so hard about Roman.
But irritatingly, Rich clearly had. She could see in the rearview mirror that he had donned a sly grin.
"Ah there it is, I knew it!" he crowed. "Whatever's going on between you two, it's just a blip. See didn't I tell you? He is just confused. Don't worry Jane, he'll get his head on straight soon."
"Shut up Rich," Jane and Weller both growled, in perfect unison.
Miraculously he actually did this time, though still wearing an awfully big smirk for someone that had just been arrested. Jane sighed and stopped looking back at Rich, turning her eyes out her window instead.
She resisted the urge to glance over at Kurt as his words replayed in her head. It had been shocking to hear Weller defend her; even if he'd been goaded into it. She might not have even believed her own ears if Rich hadn't been there with his incessant commentary.
Still, Jane had to admit that Weller's words had sparked a little hope in her. Even if he was now avoiding eye contact and grinding his jaw – for once, she wanted Rich to be right.
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almost caught up... skipping a few to get to 2.5, cause it’s awesome! And, of course, some Allie POV included, because she’s rad.
2.5
The air was filled with gun residue and bullets when Allie felt a hard impact in her left thigh and groaned at the unmistakable pain of being shot.
Her thoughts immediately flew to the baby, though thankfully she'd been injured in the leg. Still, Allie couldn't believe that Weller had been proven right, and she had to admit she was scared.
Quickly though, Jane was at her side, assuring her that she was going to be okay while applying an emergency tourniquet. Which immediately made Allie feel calmer and focused on getting out of the stairwell.
As they started moving, Allie did her best to limp along while Patrick supported her. It was awkward and painful, but once they got going, urgency and adrenaline drowned out most of the pain.
"Allie's been shot" Jane shouted through comms, as they got out of the stairwell.
"What? How badly? Allie?!" Weller hollered back, desperation already in his voice.
"I'm going to be okay, Kurt," she replied, trying her best to sound convincing.
Allie closed her eyes and prayed that he wouldn't do something stupid. Kurt could be so irrational when he was worried.
On the other hand, she wasn't prone to panic, not after her years with both the FBI and the US Marshal Service. But still, Allie knew things weren't looking good. Blood was gushing out of her leg and there were too many assailants in the building. It was not looking like they were going to make it out alive with the tapes.
Things were moving quickly around her now, with Jane taking charge of the situation and getting them out of the stairwell and into an industrial room. Patrick carried Allie as best he could, before setting her back down on the ground.
"We have to get out of here," she grunted. "I'm pregnant. It's Kurt's."
The words spilled out of her mouth without much forethought; but the impact of them made both Jane and Allie flinch emotionally. She didn't exactly know what had happened between Kurt and the tattooed consultant he'd been so obviously attracted to. But she did know it had hurt him, and clearly it had hurt Jane as well.
Jane looked stunned for a moment but then hid it well by turning to go get some supplies. Then, she came back, more empathetic and determined than ever. Somehow Allie recognized that the other woman would do anything for Kurt Weller, including protect his unborn child, despite her own feelings about the situation. Most women would be devastated or angry but Jane somehow took it all in stride. No wonder she'd always liked Jane, despite her effect on Kurt.
There was still too much blood coming out of her wound and Allie started to feel her head swim. She fought to stay with it - she had to do everything she could to survive.
Dimly, Allie heard Jane asking her about the baby and it helped her keep a tether on consciousness.
"Hang in there one second. Almost there, Allie," Jane said encouragingly.
"This is going to hurt a little bit, okay, but we have to stop the bleeding okay?"
Pain exploded in her leg before Jane's warning even sunk in. Allie screamed, unable to hold it in. Dimly she heard Weller yelling incoherently on comms and she hoped again that he wouldn't do anything stupid.
After that, everything started happening far too fast. The enemy was closing in on them and she couldn't walk. Then Patrick emptied the case and went off on a suicide mission, making all logic disappear.
She'd known him since they were kids. She couldn't just let him die there.
But then there was Jane, talking her down and getting some sense into her.
"This is our only chance."
"You need to start thinking about your baby."
Obviously she was right but it didn't make it any easier. Still, Allie stopped resisting and let Jane pull her into a shoulder carry position. Even with Patrick's sacrifice, they were in a precarious situation.
Jane started running and Allie could hear the effort it was taking for the other woman to carry her weight down the hall. Her wound was throbbing but adrenaline was masking most of the pain as Jane hauled her away from danger.
It was then that Allie heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming from behind them, and she knew they weren't going to make it. They weren't close enough to the exit and Jane was already overexerting herself.
They were about to die.
Allie braced herself, expecting to feel more bullets tear through her at any moment. Her mind flashed to Kurt, how badly he was going to take it. Losing her, the baby and Jane all at once, while under his watch. She didn't think he would ever recover.
The gunmen behind them were just rounding the corner when the door in front of them flew open. Allie turned her head, expecting to see more of the enemy, and almost didn't believe it when Weller and Nas were there to take down the assailants behind them.
She'd been so sure they weren't going to make it. That she'd screwed everything up by pressuring Weller to bring her on this case.
But when Kurt pulled her into his arms and held her to his chest protectively, it flushed away all the panic.
"What took you so long?" she asked.
The look he gave her was overflowing with silent emotion and she could see that he was still close to panic, even though they were all finally safe.
"I'm sorry. I should never have…"
"Kurt, there's nothing to be sorry about."
Allie tried to tell him she was okay but Weller just bundled her against him and ignored all her words as he rushed her out the building.
The paramedics were already there when he brought her out of the building and Weller rushed over, telling them five times that she was pregnant as he gently placed her on the gurney. The EMTs somehow managed to not roll their eyes began tending to Allie immediately. Weller continued to hover, as close as he could. Which normally would have annoyed her, but this time it felt good to have him there.
When they were finally ready to take her to the hospital, Kurt was still right there, telling her he'll be there with her all the way. It was a new side to him, so attentive and emotional. Of course it had been a pretty dire situation. But then again, he'd been worried before anything had happened; infuriatingly telling her she should take herself out of the field.
Glancing up, Weller still looked like he was about to have an aneurysm as the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance. Allie grinned to herself despite everything that had just happened.
He might have had some misgivings about being a dad. But there was no doubt that Kurt Weller would already do anything for his kid.
###
"I want our child to see how much I love what I do," Allie said.
"That I can kick ass and be an awesome mom. I want our kid to be proud, of both of us.
Rationally Weller wanted that too. But after Allie had told him she was having their baby, he had become full of anxiety. Then everything had gone wrong during the mission, and he had completely lost his shit.
Even now, Kurt was still a little wound up; despite having been at the hospital for hours, waiting for Allie to get out of surgery and recovery. There had been no real reason for him to stay the entire time - he'd been told early on that the baby was fine and Allie would be too. Yet he'd been worried that something bad would happen, especially if he were to leave.
The feeling lingered as Weller leaned down to kiss Allie on top of her head - he couldn't help thinking that he'd fail his unborn child somehow. Especially since he'd almost screwed everything up that day and gotten them all killed before his baby was even born. He wasn't exactly proud of that. No wonder he worried about being a bad father. It could be genetic, after all.
"I'm sorry about today. I messed up. I couldn't think straight."
Allie gave him an appraising look, and Weller waited for her to give him shit about nearly getting himself killed. But instead she ended up nodding, as if she understood.
"Yeah well. Jane had to set my head right too," she said, a little sheepishly.
Kurt frowned. He hadn't heard that part on comms, it must have been while he was running and only able to hear the pounding of both his feet and his heart.
"What do you mean? What happened to O'Malley?"
Allie sighed, clearly still upset about what had occurred. Even if O'Malley had been a career criminal, obviously he'd meant something to her.
"Patrick bought us the time to escape," she said. "He sacrificed himself for me and I wanted to try and stop him."
It hurt to hear, that O'Malley had played a part in saving Allie and the baby. Weller felt like he should have been the one there protecting them, and that he'd nearly made a deadly error in letting them get separated.
"Jane told me it was our only chance and I had to think about the baby. I could tell that was all she was focused on, which finally knocked some sense into me."
Weller frowned at the information Allie was presenting, again upset that he'd left her in such a vulnerable position. She shouldn't have been making life or death decisions while pregnant and badly wounded.
"That was too close, Allie," he muttered.
"Yeah, it was," she replied.
It was the first time Allie had admitted to any of the fear she must have felt; he could see her tense up as the memory flashed through her mind. Weller reached over to squeeze her hand again and was surprised when she curled her fingers into his tightly.
"I don't know what happened between you and Jane, and I know you don't want to talk about it. You didn't see her though, when I told her the baby's yours. It obviously hurt, but it just made her doubly determined to save us."
"She was willing to die for us, Kurt. She did it for you."
Weller felt stunned as the truth of her words rang in his head. He hadn't really thought much about Jane, up until Allie had mentioned her. He'd been too busy fixating on the health of Allie and the baby. Plus, thinking about what had almost happened made his entire body taut with anxiety.
Now, Kurt thought back to pulling Jane aside and demanding that she protect Allie. She'd seemed confused, or maybe a bit put off with the intensity of his instructions. But of course she'd risked her own life to do as he'd commanded. It was Jane, after all.
Weller froze at that thought and did his best to put it aside. It made him feel a little queasy, realizing how much faith he'd put in Jane. After keeping her at a distance and harping on the fact that he didn't trust her. He would not have wanted anyone else there, protecting his unborn baby.
She would have died to save his kid. Even after everything he'd put her through, everything he'd let happen to her.
"Have you talked to her?" Allie asked. "I still need to tell her thanks."
Weller gave her a stricken look and Allie sighed, shaking her head in mock exasperation.
"Go," she said.
Kurt nodded and gave Allie's hand one more squeeze before hurrying out the door.
He had to go find Jane.
###
Jane walked out of the locker room with an aching heart; barely able to blink her tears away as Patterson interrupted her reverie to tell her the bad news about the ring.
Just another dead end – that was nothing new. Her entire existence was such a black hole and it wasn't like she had much hope of a future.
Not like Kurt, with a baby on the way.
Thinking about it was still like an emotional lightening strike. The tiniest bit of her wanted to smile at the idea of Weller having a kid. She really had always thought he'd make a great dad. Had even once imagined it possible he'd want to have a baby with her.
Of course nothing could be further from reality those days. Jane considered herself lucky he seemed to now accept her presence without anger. They were building some form of trust again. But it was a slow and difficult process that constantly broke her down.
She needed to move on, but didn't exactly know how. But then the card was in her pocket and Jane called it on a whim. At least it would be a momentary distraction; an attempt to live her own life for once.
The call went to voicemail and Jane left a message, feeling awkward and cringing internally. She had just put away her phone when it buzzed with a new text, from an unidentified number.
'Hey thanks for saving my life today. Would love it if you could come by for a debrief. I'd come to you but they won't let me leave.'
A little surprised, Jane smiled to herself. Somehow, she still like Allie. Despite wondering when the baby had been conceived – before or after her descent into CIA hell.
Jane shook off the thought and headed to the hospital, determined not to be upset by everything she'd learned that day. When she got there and located the right room, she heard Allie's voice coming through the open door.
"You need to stop worrying," she groaned. "Go home and have a drink, Kurt. Something to take the edge off."
Not expecting Weller to be there and unsure how to proceed, Jane knocked tentatively on the door.
"Perfect. That's probably Jane. So you need to go now."
"Fine," Kurt grumbled. "But call me if you need anything."
Jane bit back a smile at how irritated he sounded at being banished. She walked into the room as he was stepping away from Allie's bed, wearing a petulant frown. Weller still looked tense, and he gave Jane a somewhat pleading look as he walked past her.
"Sorry, I didn't know Allie asked you to come. I could have driven you," he muttered.
"Anyways, I guess I'm leaving now. Goodnight Jane. Goodnight Allie."
"Goodnight Kurt," Allie said, exaggeratedly.
Now Jane did find herself grinning, as Weller walked out still huffing and Allie gave her a wink.
"Thanks for coming. I thought I was never going to get rid of him."
It was clear Allie was mostly kidding, especially with the eye roll and little shake of her head that accompanied the comment. Though it was also obvious that she was already over being the target of Kurt's protective tendencies.
For a moment Jane remembered what it had felt like, back when his overactive worry mostly landed on her. Sure, it had been annoying in a way. But adorable too. He just cared too much sometimes.
Not after being lied to though.
Jane swallowed the bleak thought, turning her attention back to Allie as the other woman continued speaking.
"Anyways, I just wanted to thank you in person. This can't have been easy for you."
Was that really all Allie wanted to tell her?
Of course she would have done anything to save Kurt's kid. No matter how much it stung to find out about it.
Jane about to say it was her job when she realized that wasn't true. She didn't have to take those risks, she wanted to. Even if Weller hadn't directly tasked her with protecting Allie, she would have done it anyhow.
"You don't need to thank me. I'm just so glad you and the baby are both okay."
It was true. Yet it still made her heart ache too.
Allie must have read something in her tone of voice, even though Jane had been doing her best to cover up her hurt. None of it was Allie's fault. It was clear the pregnancy had been unplanned, and she definitely wasn't using it to get back together with Weller.
Anyway, Jane was fairly certain she had no right to feel anything about Kurt being with another woman; not after deceiving him for so long. Though that didn't seem to stop the emotions from happening and reminding her that she was the one who screwed everything up.
"Look, I know things between you and Kurt… aren't great right now. But don't give up on him. Even if he messed things up."
Jane was startled for a second, surprised Allie would think it was Weller who had done something wrong. Even if he hadn't given her the chance to explain herself and had let her be tortured for months in a dark site. She was the one that had broken the trust between them.
"Um no. It was me. And it was something… unforgiveable. It isn't fixable."
She was certain of that. He'd said it himself.
When everyone you've ever loved has lied to you. There's no coming back from that.
Whatever fragile trust they could forget between them moving forward, Jane was sure she'd never find her way back into his heart. But Allie completely dismissed her words; instead giving her a knowing look.
"Yeah, he doesn't realize it yet either," she said. "But I've known him for a long time. And he's just different with you. Even now."
Jane didn't believe it but she also couldn't figure out why Allie would lie about it. Maybe just to try and make her feel better; but that didn't seem likely from someone who was normally so straightforward.
"I should know," she added. "He's only losing it because I've got his DNA growing inside me now. He never worried about me before then. And he's never looked at me the way he looks at you."
"That's all in the past," Jane muttered; though she couldn't help remembering exactly how his eyes used to rest on her.
"You're as stubborn as he is. Why am I not surprised?" Allie sighed.
"Look, I'm just saying what I saw. Everything that happened – his dad, finding Taylor, losing you. He completely fell apart. And I know you probably went through worse. But I can tell you still care about him."
Too much, Jane thought. She'd never considered that it could be reciprocated though.
Of course she wanted Allie to be right, even though she'd taught herself not to hope for anything other than surviving her double life and stopping Phase two. No matter how many times Jane told herself to manage her expectations about rebuilding their relationship, she couldn't deny the place he held in her heart.
"He cares about you too. It might just take him awhile to admit it to himself," Allie concluded. "If you hadn't noticed yet, he's pretty emotionally obtuse."
Jane bit back a laugh at Allie's comment and tried her best to believe what the other woman was telling her.
"Thanks," she said. "I'll try to remember that."
"Good. Anyways, I should let you go, I didn't mean to bring you here to talk about Kurt. I get that it's weird. But I wanted you to know."
Jane nodded, not yet sure what to make of it all.
But as she left Allie's room, things did somehow feel different. Even if Weller was having a baby with someone else, and things were still uncertain between them.
Maybe she would never have what she'd once wanted with him; maybe their relationship would never be the same. But it still felt good to know that he'd trusted her with something so precious. She could only hope that someday she'd be that important to him once more.
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what, more fic? yep, it’s coming fast and furious this week!
still catching up so S2 starts now... and episode one has so many great scenes! But of course my fave is the ‘I need you to shoot me’ scene, so much angst :P
2.1
The air in the SUV was heavy with silent judgment and looks of disapproval. Weller felt the weight of it closing in around him as he drove them back towards the NYO.
His mind flashed back to the way Zapata had eyed him as they'd gotten back to the vehicle. After she'd shot Jane, because he'd been unable to.
Even after Jane had done her best to goad him into it, throwing every hurt she possibly could at him.
"Mayfair's dead because of me."
He was sure he'd never been that angry with anyone else, with the obvious exception of his father. But despite the twitch in his finger and recognizing that she was correct, Kurt knew he wouldn't have been able to do it.
In a way he'd been relieved that Tasha had taken the initiative. Jane was right, after all. He just couldn't pull the trigger, despite her most earnest effort.
Of course, Zapata's look afterwards had been all derision. Pathetic, her eyes had said.
Nas, on the other hand, still seemed shocked that he'd agreed to the idea at all. Even though it was clear to Weller that Jane's reasoning was on point.
So why hadn't he been able to do it?
And why was he so stuck on that moment of letting her go off, with a bullet wound in her side?
The obvious answer was too emotionally confusing to even consider. Yet it had taken a lot of restraint to not reach out and futilely try to stop her. He'd been on the brink of putting down his gun and insisting on another plan when Zapata took the shot. But once it was done, Weller had quickly remembered that there was no stopping Jane; there never had been. Not even after three months in a black site.
Kurt backed off with the self-questioning, already feeling too constricted in his chest. All of the emotions he'd been fending off since he arrested Jane were creeping over the walls he had carefully constructed since then. Weller bristled, recognizing the rage that was coming on and swallowed hard, somehow managing to contain it before he revealed himself any further.
He wanted to be angry at Jane and he was, to an extent. But mostly he was furious with himself for losing control of the situation. He should never have let the CIA take her in the first place.
He definitely should not have let her walk away with a bullet hole in her side, even if she had insisted on it.
A lot could go wrong quickly from an untreated gunshot wound. Even a clean through and through.
Kurt gave his head a little shake, as if that would get rid of the worry. Instead, it just irritated him more, especially when he glanced at the rear view mirror and saw Zapata still eyeing him.
"Weller, everything okay?" Reade asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
Weller seethed inwardly, but managed to push back enough anger to merely appear extremely tense, instead of actively combusting.
Nothing was okay. Jane was out there on her own, making contact with a terrorist organization while possibly bleeding out. He never should have allowed it. And yet, it shouldn't be making him so goddamned upset either.
It was even more telling that none of his concern had to do with the actual status of the case. At the moment, he couldn't care less whether Jane successfully made contact.
He just wanted her to come back alive.
He was so angry with her. But seeing her again, he'd also instantly remembered how it felt; remembered that tug in his stomach that happened whenever she was near.
"Fine," Kurt finally replied, barely getting the single word through his clenched teeth.
Reade raised his eyebrows but took the hint and turned his head to look out the window. Which allowed Weller to turn his attention back to the road, forcing his mind off the mental image of Jane driving away bleeding.
It was a relief to get back to the NYO and escape the enclosed space of the SUV. Kurt did his best to push his feelings aside once they returned to headquarters, telling himself that there wasn't anything he could do but wait and see what happened.
Yet when he found himself alone in the car park with Tasha on their way to the elevators, angry words came tumbling out of him before he could stop them.
"You shouldn't have taken that shot," he growled, internally flinching as he saw it all happen again in his mind's eye.
Zapata smirked and shook her head dismissively.
"She was right and you know it. I only did what you couldn't do."
There was far too much truth to that statement for him to respond to it. Weller fought back the defensiveness that surged through him and did his best to refocus all of that emotion.
"It was too dangerous," he spat out, trying to justify his worry to himself.
But Tasha just shrugged.
"Yeah well, she's dangerous. And she asked for it."
With that, Zapata strode away, leaving Weller standing there shaking his head at the empty space in front of him. He ground his teeth together, recognizing that everything Tasha had said was true.
Jane was dangerous and he'd already fallen for it once. He recalled his fury from earlier, while listening to her reveal how she'd been living a double life while working with them. The betrayal of her reporting to her ex-fiancé handler, and causing Mayfair's death still burned so hot when he refreshed the memory. He'd let his father back into his life because of her lies, something he would always regret.
It was completely illogical then that he couldn't shake that hard pit of worry that sat in his guy. Still, Weller knew it wouldn't go anywhere until he saw that she was safe.
Despite everything she'd done and all the hurt she'd caused him, the picture of her limping away with a bloody hole in her side made his chest ache. It didn't make any sense, and he hated how conflicted it all made him feel.
But then again, when had he ever been rational about Jane?
Kurt took in a long breath and scrunched his eyes shut for a moment. Then, exhaling loudly, he got in the elevator and reminded himself of all the reasons he shouldn't be worried. Even so, he barely managed to force his wayward emotions back on track before arriving back at SIOC, desperately hoping that no one else could tell he was about to lose his shit.
###
"Because I wanted to be her. More than anything."
For you.
Jane sat back in the chair, arms crossed over her chest. Her emotions were burning, with the same intensity as the searing in her side.
Weller stood and turned, done with her now that they'd asked each other the necessary questions. Not that Jane wanted him to stay, she didn't like how his presence made her feel so overwhelmed.
She'd thought about it so many times; what it would be like to see him again, to tell him her truths. But she'd forgotten what it actually felt like. The effect he had on her, despite her anger or his.
All that fury and hurt built a wall though. Jane told herself she didn't want him to care. Not after what she'd been through. Where he'd let her rot for three months.
He couldn't take the shot though.
And he'd known. That she couldn't either. Not even after everything she'd gone through.
She hated him for that. For being so sure, and for being right.
Weller was stepping through the open door when Jane rose to follow him out the interview room and immediately regretted the sudden movement. A small grunt escaped her and she tried to cover it up with a cough while reaching under her shirt to check on her wound.
The bandage was wet but thankfully it wasn't completely saturated yet. There was still hope in getting things under control on her own.
But of course, right then Weller turned and frowned at her, with taut shoulders and guarded eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, a bit brusquely.
Jane sat back, trying to shrug off the pain. Nodding, she did her best to keep her tone aloof.
"Yeah, just a bit sore."
Weller did not look convinced though and he stepped back into the room, the automatic door whooshing shut behind him.
Dammit.
She needed to get out from under his watchful eye and redo the bandaging. A little pressure would easily get the bleeding stopped again but Weller was already approaching.
Jane made a futile effort to back up but the wall wasn't far behind her. And of course Kurt didn't stop approaching until he was right there, reaching for the hem of her shirt.
"You're bleeding," he muttered,
Jane glanced down and saw that he'd lifted the fabric up enough to expose an edge of the bloody bandage underneath. Quickly she pulled her shirt back down and stood there with her back against the wall.
"I'm fine," she grunted, with green fire in her eyes.
But Weller just gave her the same concerned frown, blocking her way out.
"Jane, you're bleeding. And you look pale."
I was in a black site for months. Yes I'm fucking pale.
Jane felt her fury stir and did her best to harness the emotional energy.
"Weller, this isn't your problem anymore," she said, stepping forward in an attempt to barge past him.
Jane recognized her mistake as soon as she pushed off the wall. Her muscles were so tense that she immediately felt unsteady, and that was before the wave of dizziness crashed over her. Everything happening at the worst possible moment too, of course.
She felt hands grip her shoulders, trying to guide her into a seat. Jane still resisted though, sputtering out protest after protest as Weller completely disregarded her wishes and pushed her into the chair.
"Let me look," Weller stated sternly.
He sounded concerned. She hated that.
You left me to be tortured for months and now you're worried because I'm bleeding a little?!
You have no right to be worried, I'll survive it on my own like I have everything else.
Jane said none of it. Instead, she just glared at him, deliberately flinching away from his touch.
Of course it didn't stop him though. She'd never really had any rights at all.
Weller gently peeled her shirt up, his frown deepening as he saw the soaked bandage.
"I should take you to the doctor."
Jane shook her head firmly.
"I'm fine," she grumbled. "It was just a long walk."
Weller grimaced at her words, then pulled off the dressing. Thankfully the wound wasn't bleeding so profusely at the moment and Jane exhaled a sigh of relief.
"Stay here," he demanded, before leaving the room in a haste.
Jane did as she was told, despite the irritation in her chest. Exhausted from her day, she no longer had any strength to resist.
Weller returned with first aid supplies and quickly set to work closing and redressing her wound with a clean bandage. He muttered as he worked, making disapproving comments about how she should still see medical even though the wound wasn't leaking much anymore.
Jane was silent through all his commentary, doing her best to maintain a firm emotional boundary.
He doesn't care, she reminded herself.
And I don't want him to either.
When Weller was done, Jane gave him a terse thanks and got up immediately, ready to leave his presence.
Jane felt a little less shaky but still wobbly getting up, and cursed inwardly. Of course she was lightheaded; she hadn't had any food since a banana before showing up at the motel for work. There hadn't exactly been a chance to even think about eating once her former team had blown her life up once again.
But the thought of bothering to deal with that need seemed completely beyond her capacity right then. Even asking anyone about food seemed far too foreign and absurd. She would just go to whatever safe house they took her to, crash out and mentally prepare for another day of guilt and animosity.
It was even worse when Jane vaguely heard Weller calling after her, instructing her to get some food and rest.
Don't tell me what to do. I went for three months on a prisoner's diet. I don't need to eat to survive.
Jane walked out without turning back to look at Weller. At least the agents assigned to drive her home were silent as always, but that started to feel ominous when she realized they were bringing her back to the same safe house as before.
Her last memories of the place were more traumatic than her entire three month stay in CIA hell. Jane's heart was thumping hard as the detail walked her towards the place, visions of Kurt arresting her flashing through her brain as they approached.
But as they stepped up to the door and the memory started to push on her flight or fight response, Jane was suddenly distracted by a spicy aroma.
There was a bag of food on the landing, clearly just delivered. And, once the agents left, Jane found herself standing inside at the table, frowning while looking at one of her favourite meals.
She told herself it was because he was too goddamned stubborn, and that it was just his professional duty to make sure she survived long enough to do their dirty work for them. Nothing to do with real caring on his part.
Still, Jane had to admit the dosa was delicious. And, despite her best effort to stay annoyed after an emotionally exhausting day, the small gesture did make her feel seen.
It wasn't much, but it did give her a tiny sliver of hope. Even amongst the bleakness that surrounded her.
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last s1 fic! obviously I couldn’t resist the cpr scene :P
1.22
Weller looked into the nursery and his throat constricted at what he saw.
There was a defibrillator on the ground and two people were down. One of them was Jane.
She was face down on the ground and not moving. Which made panic flood through him even as he knelt beside her too-still body, calling her name while frantically trying to locate a pulse.
It quickly became clear that she wasn't breathing and there wasn't even a hint of a heartbeat. Pushing back on the tsunami wave of fear that was crashing over him, Weller focused on his training and carefully turned Jane over so he could start CPR.
Immediately his clasped hands pressed down hard on her sternum, compressing her rib cage in a desperate attempt to keep her alive. Weller's own pulse was pounding in his ears, in stark contrast to Jane's lack of one.
Kurt did his best not to think about anything other than putting everything he had into the chest compressions. Even when he felt on of her ribs crack underneath his hands, all Weller could do was wince to himself and continue doing CPR. He needed her heart to start beating again and he wasn't going to stop until she came back to him.
Tears began to blur the edges of his vision as she remained limp in his grip. Cold fear nipped at his innards even as desperation and fire roared out of his lungs.
"Come on Jane!" he shouted, trying to will her back to life.
"Come on!"
He couldn't lose her. Not when he'd just started admitting to himself how much he loved her.
Kurt's arms kept manually pumping her heart as paralyzing fear began to rise up his spine. How long had she been lying there before he found her? It was entirely possible he'd started CPR too late - he knew that the window of saving someone who wasn't breathing was less than ten minutes.
But this wasn't just anyone. It was Jane. Seemingly invincible, at least right up to that point.
At that moment, though, she was dead. And the chances of getting her back grew slimmer with each second.
Weller growled at the thought, refusing to let it take hold.
She's going to be okay, he silently hollered.
She has to be.
Kurt was already sweaty and out of breath from performing CPR, even though it hadn't actually been very long since he'd begun. Mentally, he told himself to keep the pace up, despite his own heart rate continuing to shoot through the roof.
"C'mon!" he grunted again, desperately trying to convince both of them to keep going.
There was no response from Jane, her face and body remaining slack as he continued with the chest compressions. Desperation dripped out his pores with each push and despair had started to sneak in when finally, Jane's eyes flew open and she inhaled a sharp breath.
It was as if life flowed back into his body at that moment too. Relief crashed through his body and Weller's hand automatically slipped underneath Jane's head as she looked up to meet his gaze with startled eyes. For a long moment he was speechless, just soaking in the fact that she was alive. He didn't even realize he was stroking her cheek with his thumb until he felt Jane's fingers around his wrist, warmly pressing his hand against her jawbone.
Weller shook his head a little as his racing heart beat finally began to slow. She had defied death once again; after nearly single-handedly saving all those babies.
"You're okay," he breathed, unsure if he was trying to assure her or himself.
Jane blinked, then looked up at him with huge eyes.
"I'm okay," she croaked, after a few silent breaths had passed between them.
"I can get up."
Jane wedged one elbow underneath her and started to lift her torso off the ground but Kurt gently impeded her movement and shook his head again, still unable to find any words. She was not actually okay; she'd been dead just moments ago.
"No, don't move," Weller said. "Not until the paramedics check you out. I think I did some damage to your ribs."
Jane resisted for a second, still trying to push onto her elbow even as Kurt gently pressed her back down to the ground.
"Kurt, I'm fine," she grunted.
She did seem to be alright, despite his fears that he'd hurt her. Yet Weller kept flashing back to her lying there limp and how it had felt, crushing her chest to artificially push air and blood through her body. Even as Jane quickly regained both colour and composure, he felt himself stuck on what could have been.
"I'm not," he muttered, a bit surprised when the words came out audibly.
He wouldn't normally admit that to anyone. But he wanted her to know. He wanted her to understand just how not okay he was after seeing her there lifeless. Even though he'd been able to save her that time, it'd been too far too close. He'd nearly lost her before telling her how much he needed her; how much he loved her.
"You were dead," he added, almost scared to say the words.
Jane's eyes locked onto his and she frowned slightly, the jade in her irises becoming murky with brown. Then her grip around his wrist tightened and she lifted his hand off of her cheek, before slowly placing it over her heart.
###
There was nothing; and then there was light.
Jane gasped as all her senses came back online in one instant, the sudden brightness only adding to her confusion. But then she felt a familiar hand on her face and her eyes snapped up to see Weller staring down at her in astonished relief.
"You're okay," he whispered, looking completely shaken and sounding unsure about his statement.
Jane blinked hard, automatically running through an assessment of her body. She noted that she still felt a little dazed and her ribs were very sore, some likely broken. It was only then that she really registered what had happened - Weller had just brought her back to life with CPR.
No wonder he was looking at her like that, while caressing her jaw with his thumb.
For a second Jane was just caught in his gaze, frozen by the adoration in his eyes. And then her brain got moving again and she fell back to reality.
Would he have saved me if he knew what I had done?
Remembering her situation was a harsh emotional blow and Jane quickly tried to push herself up, wanting to escape from Kurt's intense gaze.
"I'm okay," she rasped, wincing internally at the weakness in her voice.
Her lungs didn't feel quite right and she hoped they were just sore from being pressed on; not punctured by a broken rib. Jane took another breath, then tried again.
"I can get up," she said, this time more satisfied with force of her words.
She only made it to her elbow though, before Weller brought his hand down to her shoulder and prevented her from sitting up. He was still silently shaking his head at her; his eyes wide with emotion.
"No, don't move," Kurt said. "Not until the paramedics check you out. I think I did some damage to your ribs."
She didn't tell him that she knew they were broken; he already looked too worried. Instead, Jane did her best to resist the weight of his arm, which was trying to push her back down to the ground.
He still sounded so upset, which made her feel equally warm and disgusted with herself. He wouldn't feel that way if he knew her secrets.
"Kurt, I'm fine," she grunted.
Weller was still looking at her like she was a miracle of some sort; his blue eyes a mixture of relief and some darker emotion.
"I'm not," he admitted, almost too quiet to hear.
Jane froze at vulnerability in his words and at the realization that he really wasn't okay. Even her defensive desire to prove that she was fine suddenly evaporated with Kurt's confession.
"You were dead."
She hadn't exactly thought about it like that, even though it was obviously true. And now that she was thinking about it, in so many ways it would be easier to have remained dead, instead of having to fix everything she'd messed up.
But that thought evaporated with the slight shimmer in Kurt's eyes. She could see the fear and trauma of having to bring her back to life, of it all having been so close.
Jane forced herself to put herself in Weller's position, trying to figure out what she could do to soothe his obvious distress. It was clear that he was getting stuck on the what if; almost like he was unwilling to believe he'd really saved her.
Affixed in Kurt's blue stare, Jane wondered what she could say to get through to him. His hand had moved back to rub her cheekbone, as if he was trying to prove to himself she was there. Jane realized her fingers remained on his wrist too, gripping so tightly she could feel that his pulse was still racing.
Suddenly it was obvious what she should do; what Weller needed.
Jane slowly lifted his hand off of her jaw and placed it on her sore chest, right over her heart.
"Feel that?" she murmured.
"I'm right here."
Kurt frowned a little, as if trying to resist her words. But as Jane continued to lightly touch his hand to her sore sternum, she could tell that he was calming down. So she offered him the brightest smile she could manage, and finally Weller blinked hard before letting out a short tense breath.
"You're here," he repeated, as if trying to affirm that fact for himself.
"Did I hurt you?"
He didn't need to know, at least not at that moment. Jane shook her head, giving him a slightly exasperated grin.
"I'm fine Kurt," she said.
Weller nodded, and this time he didn't fight her as she used her free arm to push her up into a seated position. He did leave his hand gently planted against her chest though, and still looked far more concerned than he needed to be.
Someday he would find out what she'd done and he wouldn't ever look at her like that again.
Jane felt the cold knife of that knowledge slicing through her, sticking hard in her gut.
She would have to face her demons someday. But for the moment she cast them aside and leaned towards Kurt, resting her forehead above his sternum. Jane listened to his heart beat, relieved that it had settled considerably in the past few minutes. Still, she could feel the latent trauma in his body, all because of her.
"Thank you," Weller muttered into her hair, just before she spilled the same words onto his chest.
But of course Kurt didn't bother acknowledging her thanks, seemed to still be caught up in processing what had just happened. Instead, he tilted her head back and kissed her on the forehead, making her neck tingle. Then he rested her temple against his chest again and wrapped his arms around her tightly.
"Thank you for coming back to me," he said, as if only finally believing it then.
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I’m back... and almost caught up on the S2 rewatch! But being a completionist, I sorta had to finish a couple of S1 rewatch fics first. So... please bear with me and rewind time a bit, then soon I’ll post some S2 scenes too :P
Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1
1.20
Jane sat alone in the empty room for awhile after Maya had left with her grandmother, finally allowing herself to feel relaxed after a long day of being worried for the girl. Maya was as safe as possible now and, just as importantly, she wasn't alone anymore.
Watching her be reunited with her grandma had been such a huge relief; Jane had felt the tension seeping out of her shoulders just knowing that the girl was with someone that would love her and take care of her.
And what about you? her mind asked, unhelpfully.
Who's going to love and take care of you?
Jane tried to brush the thought away but it had already dampened her mood. The pressure of her situation, which she'd managed to put aside while they dealt with the case, suddenly returned all at once.
She still hadn't decided what to do about the thumb drive mission Oscar had given her; hated even considering going through with it. But Jane didn't have enough intel to push back against his demands yet. That morning had been a start, when she'd followed him from the loft he'd taken her to. She needed to know more about this group she was up against before taking any action that might put Weller's life at risk.
Jane sighed, knowing what she needed to do but feeling crushed by the burden of living her double life. It was no wonder she'd felt Maya's plight so strongly. She wasn't that far removed from being completely alone; still was in many ways. She couldn't tell Kurt her secret. And she didn't trust Oscar, despite his love for her former self.
It weighed on her heavily, being beholden to people that seemed to be so powerful. But she couldn't see any way to safely avoid the missions she'd been tasked with. Not when they could easily hurt Weller at any time. So, despite all her abilities and her position within the FBI, it still felt like there wasn't any choice but to comply until she'd come up with some leverage on Oscar and his organization.
She had to protect Kurt. Even if it meant doing things she hated.
Jane's heart rate increased a little, just thinking about Weller. Her mind flashed back to that morning and his impromptu invitation. It had been a cute gesture at the time, but definitely unexpected. She'd even forgotten about it for most of the day, but then everything had changed with a simple question.
How's Allie?
It had been asked mostly innocently – she'd been genuinely surprised that they'd broken up. Though it was also true that Jane had sensed something she couldn't quite identify; a feeling that things had shifted. Not just because he'd asked her to come over that night to hang out while he babysat. There were also the glances he'd been trying to hide, ever since that disastrous mission when they'd been played by Rich Dotcom. She'd felt it particularly strongly that day, in the weight of his gaze as she talked to Maya and then again when they were alone together in the SUV.
But now, what had just been a casual invitation to play board games with his nephew suddenly seemed more like a date. Not a real one of course, just friends hanging out - especially since nothing could happen given the constraints of the situation. Yet Jane was still a bit nervous, and more than a little excited too, as the end of the day finally arrived.
There was just that one other thing weighing on her.
Jane fingered the thumb drive in her pocket as she internally debated whether to just forgo Oscar's mission. She hated the idea of getting something past the FBI firewall, knowing that nothing good could come of it. But the threat on Kurt's life had changed everything. The group Oscar belonged to seemed determined and ruthless; Jane had no question they would hurt Weller to make her comply.
She needed more leverage before making a stand; that was why she'd started surveilling Oscar. She already had some power over him, just from their previous relationship, plus the role he was playing as her handler. And despite being drawn to his knowledge of her former self and the comfort of his body, Jane had also realized how much pull she had with him. Especially when she'd stopped him from relinquishing his role as her handler and kept him from disappearing.
She was turning the tables on him, but it was still a work in progress. Until she had more, it was crucial that she kept Oscar and his organization happy with her missions.
Gulping down her hesitancy, Jane pulled the drive out and stuck it in the computer. The light glowed red and she stood there waiting, with her heart in her throat and guilt churning in her gut.
Of course, Kurt showed up at that moment, right while she was both betraying him and saving him with the same act. Jane forced herself to loosen up and not seem so suspicious, but still felt tense as she took him up on his invitation to board game night.
The thumb drive still wasn't done and she needed to get rid of him. Desperately, Jane searched her mind for some way to slip out of his view and managed to squeak out a line about grabbing her coat and meeting him downstairs. For a moment she thought Weller was going to call her on her odd behaviour and it felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest.
Getting caught and having to explain herself to him was one of her worst fears. Exposing everything she'd been keeping from him, all her little missions for Oscar. He would finally see all of her traitorous behaviour; who she really was.
But, incredibly, Weller didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong; readily agreeing before commenting on her necklace and walking away just before the drive also finished whatever it was doing.
Jane let out a lungful of air she hadn't realized she was holding and steadied herself before quickly unplugging the device. The deed was done, and she couldn't take it back now. At least she hadn't been caught in the act, and could still pray that she'd be able to fix all the damage she was doing by going along with Oscar's demands.
She exhaled a worried breath, trying to put away the rest of her nerves. The anxiety was still there but at least it was over with. And now there wasn't anything left to do but meet up with Weller.
Jane headed for the locker room, her spine now tingling with an entirely different emotion. Guilt and worry had exchanged places with hope and excitement, even though she knew that babysitting Weller's nephew with him shouldn't be laden with such anticipation.
Still, she couldn't quite keep her nerves under control; almost jumping out of her skin when she got out to the lobby and Kurt approached from behind.
"Ready?" he asked.
He had the board games in his hands and an earnest expression on his face, appearing every bit the seasoned parent.
Jane hadn't really pictured him that way before that day, though she'd also been surprised to hear that Weller couldn't see himself as a dad. He was so overly protective and caring, she'd easily imagined how doting a father he would be, as soon as she thought about it.
Even now, Jane could feel him hovering a little as they walked to the car. He was always just a bit in her her personal space, his presence there projecting both security and possessiveness. She'd never really stopped to consider how that looked to everyone else.
They'd broken up because of her. Which should make her feel bad, instead of guiltily elated.
So even if it was a child-chaperoned night of pizza and board games; she couldn't help the way his too-close presence filled her with flutters.
###
It had been a spur of the moment decision to ask Jane over for dinner and he'd never really considered that she would say yes. But now Weller was walking up to his apartment with a pounding heart, while telling himself that he had to calm the fuck down.
They were going to play some Uno attack with his nephew, that was all. Yet he'd been uncharacteristically up front about his situation with Allie when Jane had asked.
Because you wanted her to know, his mind unhelpfully supplied.
There hadn't been much reason to be so honest, other than opening up that door again. The one he'd slammed shut so quickly after she'd missed that meeting in the park.
Ever since then Jane had been different, distant in a way he'd been unable to pinpoint. Which was understandable, considering he'd been the one to put up the boundary. But there were also still moments when he thought there was something happening between them. And it was clear that everyone else did too.
Weller's hand was a little sweaty, making him fumble with his key, so Sarah was right at the door as it swung open. There was an awkward moment as her eyes landed on Jane for awhile before flicking over to look at Kurt.
"You don't usually bring anyone over," she commented.
Kurt groaned inwardly, having already anticipated that his little sister would take the opportunity to bug him mercilessly. He grumbled something about more players making game night better but still Sarah gave him an exaggerated wink.
"Of course," she replied sagely. "It's all about the games."
With that, Sarah left, but not before giving him another loaded look as she walked by. Kurt sighed and finally dared to glance at Jane, wincing a little at the impish expression she was wearing.
"So, no other hot babysitting dates?" she asked wickedly.
Weller groaned to himself, even as a flare of desire shot through him. He remembered her ribbing him about his cooking earlier that day, how good it had felt just being with her. Then he thought about the conversation he'd been about to start when they had to turn the SUV around.
For a second he felt nervous, like he'd been put on the spot. But then Jane nudged him with her shoulder and Kurt immediately relaxed at the laughter in her eyes.
As soon as they walked in, Sawyer set upon them.
"Uncle Kurt!" he hollered. "Can we have pizza?"
Weller chuckled and mouthed a 'told you' in Jane's direction.
"Sure, we can have pizza while I beat you at Uno attack."
"Yeah right! You suck at it!"
Jane laughed at Sawyer's candid assessment of Weller's skills and then continued to egg him on as Kurt dialled in the pizza order.
"Oh yeah? He said he's just been letting you win," she commented, wearing a sly grin.
"What! No way," Sawyer replied indignantly. "He really sucks. You'll see."
Weller watched the interaction with a laugh. It all felt so normal, even though he'd certainly never brought Allie along with him to babysit. But Jane was a perfect fit as always, keeping Sawyer engaged while managing to poke fun in his direction as they started to play the game.
After the pizza had been delivered and they were well into their third round of Uno attack, Kurt momentarily fell into another reality. A different dimension, an alternate life with Jane. The two of them at home, with a family.
He mentally glitched at the image, suddenly frozen in the projected memory. It just felt so right.
Of course, Jane caught him in the moment, eyeing him with a sidelong look.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
"Uh yeah. Everything's… perfect."
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could assess and retract them, leaving him standing there dumbly with the truth spilled between them.
But, other than the briefest of pauses, Jane took it completely in stride.
"Except you just lost another round," she commented.
Weller shook himself out of the moment and gave her a mock frown.
"I'm just getting warmed up," he asserted. "Next game you're both going down."
Sawyer rolled his eyes at his uncle and Jane burst out laughing at Kurt's exaggerated pouty expression.
Breaking into a wide smile, Weller realized it was the lightest he'd felt in a long time, despite the situation with his father. All his past trauma, all that searching - it had all been worth it. He still almost couldn't believe he'd finally found her.
And sitting there, watching her chew pizza through a spray of flying cards, Kurt again saw a glimpse of a future he'd never really considered. One with kids, family game nights, and a wife that he absolutely adored.
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