A/N: This was supposed to be something else entirely... and it's also kind of short. Hope you enjoy. x
Jane's thoughts were running wild. She was standing in front of the full-length- mirror in her bedroom trying to smooth out her unruly curls, gently touching the bruises forming on her face.
The medics had cleared her about an hour earlier and she had been sent home by Director Hirst to sort out her wishes and don some clothes that weren't covered in dust and sweat and blood. The woman wanted to give her time, she knew that, and had told her to come to her within the next week to tell her what she wanted to do with her life.
There was the text Kurt had sent her – the team was celebrating at his apartment and he had asked her if she wanted to join – she had replied she would come. And she would. But she needed to figure out the rest first, she wanted to know where she stood in this mess. Sandstorm might be defeated and Shepherd had been taking into custody by the CIA but Roman was still on the run.. because of her. Because she hadn't been able to pull the trigger on her own brother.
Did that make her a bad person or just a human being? She knew Tasha doubted her statement that she hadn't had the shot, maybe she still didn't fully trust her?
Looking down on her body her eyes stopped on her tattooed right hand and she moved her fingers a little, pulled a fist and released it again – it was still her hand. Would it have looked differently if she had taken the shot? Could she have looked into the mirror still if she had killed her own blood? Her brother?
I think you need to ask yourself, what do you want?
Hirst's words were still ringing in her ears. She had been completely taken aback, not expecting anything like that, not when Kurt was missing and really all her thoughts were circling around his absence and what happened right before the Secret Service men had interrupted them.
Thoughtfully she raised her hand and touched her lips gently, remembering his lips on hers and how it had made everything right in the world, even if just for that one single moment. How he could still do that after everything that had happened to them… the he knew her and didn't turn away.
She remembered Patterson. She remembered the absolute devastation of the office and the blonde's seeming to surrender at the scale of it. Would she surrender if she left? Or if she stayed?
We can't all stay here forever.
Not even if here was the only place she had ever felt at home at? Not even if the office and the people working in it had come to mean so much to her that she would give her life for them?
But she couldn't take her brother's.
Had she betrayed everyone else in the moment that she had dropped the gun and let him walk away? She could still see him in front of her, begging her to shoot him and his eyes – closing hers she tried to block out the image of his – she had seen the capitulation in them. Roman had given up. On himself as well as on her and it had hurt her physically. She couldn't have lived with herself knowing that she had killed him.
Now she had to live with herself knowing she let him go. Everything he did now – it would be on her, too. Would the team forgive her for that? Would Kurt?
Kurt.
Just thinking about the possibility of leaving Kurt made her sick to her stomach. And that was kind of the point, wasn't it? The reason she couldn't fathom going anywhere else was about 6 feet tall with pretty blue eyes and a scratchy stubble that she could still feel on her cheek when she thought back to the night before.
You should go somewhere fun.
You think I should go?
He hadn't really answered the question. Telling her that she hadn't chosen this life – but hadn't she done just that? Hadn't she made the plan that would put her in this exact position? Certainly she had probably had a different outcome in mind when she had designed the plan in the first place. She chose this, even if she couldn't remember it and no matter what she did to atone for her sins, she wasn't sure she would ever be worthy of forgiveness. So much had happened…
And then she heard those words that hadn't been leaving her head all day.
Jane. Don't move to California. Stay here… with me… I love you, Jane. I love you.
He had laid there on the ground and she had been so scared and he could barely talk, she could barely hear this words because they weren't much stronger than a whisper. She had felt her heart skip a beat, begging him to look at her, telling him that it would be okay – because what was the alternative? A life, a world without Kurt Weller in it?
I love you, Jane.
He loved her.
Stay here… with me…
Jane took one last long look in the mirror, her eyes traveling over her body. She had chosen to wear a red blouse, a relic of a time before everything had gone to hell. It made her look different, she liked it. She wanted to look good when she took the first step into this new life. Maybe she could find a new style as well? Tasha and Patterson had been teasing her about it for a while.
She felt her heart pumping away in her chest in excitement and … agitation? She felt something flutter in her stomach nervously, but also happily. She could to this, she kept telling herself. There was nothing to fear, she could go anywhere.
I think you need to ask yourself, what do you want?
She knew what she wanted. She had always known.
With a deep breath she took the first step away from the mirror and towards the door, towards the future she chose for herself, towards Kurt.