He woke up to the sun's rays beginning to break through the curtains. He couldn't believe he had actually gotten a good night's sleep; he hadn't had one in months… since she'd left.

Lying in bed, the memories of the previous day came flooding back to him. He'd found her. He'd actually found her.

Jane was home again.

When they'd got back, they'd spent a few hours going through everything that had happened between them. He asked her why she'd left. She told him, and her honesty shattered his heart. She asked him if he could forgive her, and he said he would. She said that the reason she left wasn't because she didn't love him. She left to protect him, and although it hurt, he understood. Because he would've done the same.

She asked him if he still loved her. He almost laughed in disbelief at the question. He told her that for every day that she was gone, he didn't stop thinking about her. He'd carried her wedding rings with him wherever he went, so it would feel like a part of her was still with him. He'd spent every day searching for her, desperately trying to track her down. And even if he hadn't found her, he still would be out there, searching for her. Searching for his wife.

He still had hurt written over his face, and she still had guilt written over hers. Talking to her the previous night, he'd seen what those past six months had done to her. If he'd thought that he was bad, then she was worse. She could barely look him in the eyes, she wasn't sure if she could sit next to him, and her eyes were constantly glazed over with tears. But somewhere, deep inside her, she was still his Jane, and he would get her back to him. He knew he would.

As the bedroom slowly began to fill with sunlight, he couldn't stop the slow smile from spreading across his face. He knew that these next few weeks would be difficult, and that both of them needed to heal. But she was home. She was safe. They were together again. And to him, that was what really mattered.

He gently rolled over and slowly reached out to stroke her hair, but all he felt were the bed sheets, still warm from where she'd been lying next to him. His eyes opened fully, and the sight that greeted him made his heart drop like a stone.

She wasn't there.

He rubbed his eyes furiously, emotions welling up inside of him. Surely she wasn't gone again? They'd made progress last night, good progress… was that not enough?

He leapt out of bed and flung open the bedroom door. He called her name, once, twice, three times. No reply. He scrambled into the kitchen, turning around in circles helplessly, desperately. And that's when he saw it. A scrap piece of paper, folded in half, was sitting on the kitchen counter. His name was written neatly on the folded side. His stomach lurched. He would know that handwriting anywhere.

Bile rose up in his throat, and his hands started to shake. This can't be happening, he thought. She can't be gone. Not again.

He gently picked up the scrap of paper and unfolded it carefully. He began to read, fear overtaking him. It was only a few sentences long.

I had a feeling you'd panic, so I thought I'd leave you this. I've just gone out to get some milk for coffee, you didn't have any this morning. I'll be back soon. Don't worry. Jane.

He let out a breath he didn't even realise he had been holding. Relief flooded out of him, and his knees felt weak. He couldn't believe it. She's okay. She's okay.

A minute later, the apartment door opened, and there she was. She was still in the tank top and tracksuit bottoms that she wore to bed last night. Her hair was messier than ever, and she was carrying the carton of milk underneath her arm.

He didn't even wait for her to fully get through the door. He ran towards her, pulling her to him, making sure it was real. That she was real.

She let out a tiny gasp at the unexpected gesture, and then hugged him back tightly. He buried his face in her hair, not wanting to let her go. He could just about structure a sentence. His voice was muffled as he whispered "I thought… I thought you'd gone again".

He pulled back to look at her, holding her face in his hands. She returned his gaze, her eyes glistening again. She lifted her hand and swiped away his tears with her thumb. She gave him a half-smile. Her voice was sure and strong, completely different to how it was the night before.

"Kurt, listen to me. I'm not going anywhere. I… I couldn't do that to you again. We're gonna get through this. Okay?"

He smiled back at her, closing his eyes briefly. She pulled his head down towards hers, until their foreheads met.

"I love you," she whispered, "we're gonna get through this. Together."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Together," he agreed.