Hi everyone. In a response of some reviews and PM I have received, this is a translation of my French fiction. Please note that English isn't my native language, so in spite of the good work of my beta-reader readeronly76 (that I thank very much for all this efforts) maybe some mistakes remain.

I started this story after the 2x07 because I think that Jane maybe more affected by her time in blacksite than the Shows describe.

…

Disclaimer : I don't own Blindspot. The story and characters are the property of Martin Gero

Chapter 1 – What should I do ?

Roman

He was rushing through the deserted streets of New York. In the passenger seat, the crumpled letter that had just caused his universe to collapse, seemed to taunt him. The past shock, the anger and the feeling of betrayal crushed his heart. The anger towards Remi for betraying the cause, their cause. The anger towards himself for not seeing the signs. The anger towards Shepherd for her plan which had cost him his sister. But soon, another feeling spread through him, slowly, sinking its icy claws into his body and his mind: fear. Insidious, sneaky, wandering through his backbone, it threatened to stifle him. Fear of losing the last member of his true family, his protective sister. Fear of Shepherd's reaction to the news. Then came the rage, pure, brute, and blinding. His vision being troubled, the scared colossus stopped his car to vent his feelings. Letting out a long howl, Roman struck the steering wheel and when that failed to satisfy him, struck the dashboard with double the force than before, stopping only to resume his frantic breathing. He was quiet for a moment, his phalanges now torn and bloody.

-"Calm," he said to himself, "you are a soldier on a mission. Breathe, think, breathe, think. There must be an explanation. There had to be an explanation. " But deep down, he knew that there must be some truth in the words of their mole. The memory erase had changed Remi. Without the anger that had animated her, how could her new personality adapt to this war? In some ways she had become a stranger. Another woman in his sister's body. Remi would never hesitate to kill the engineer, or do anything to recover the chip. Jane though… But Jane had returned for him, she had saved him. Was there still a part of Remi in her ?

Opening his window to let fresh air in, Roman waited for the frenetic beating of his heart to calm. "No," he decided. He couldn't tell this to Shepherd. He had to give his sister a chance to explain herself on neutral ground. Temporarily appeased by this idea, he re-started his car, heading for a hideout to prepare for the meeting. Trying to ignore the small voice in his head that told him he was only prolonging… disaster.

…

.

Jane

This idea of a date was a fiasco. Oliver was charming in his own way, but even simple questions raised too many things that she couldn't and didn't want to answer. As she walked home, her thoughts drifted to her brother. Nas's refusal to turn him into an asset made her furious. A part of her wondered if the NSA agent had actually considered the suggestion. In Jane's opinion, the woman wanted so much to make up for her mistakes, that she didn't consider all the possibilities, especially those that deviated from her twisted and carefully crafted plans.

Of course, Jane couldn't ignore her own sins. How could she, the team rubbed it in her face every day, like salt in a wound. Today's argument against Nas, Zapata, and Reade proved it, where they blamed her for rescuing her own brother instead of thwarting Sandstorm's plan. The rational part of herself understood their mistrust after her lies and secrets. But despite all her efforts to detach herself, the emotional part of her mind felt ill because of their treatment. The alternation between situations where the group seemed to include her almost as before, and the situations where they treated her like the enemy, made each day a little more painful. This illusion of normality, wanted by Nas to keep her cover with Sandstorm, encouraged her in spite of herself to hope that the team would welcome her one day as a friend. But in her mind, Jane knew this was unlikely. Her bad decisions certainly deserved punishment, but could they at least make an effort to understand her reasons? She had already endured three months of torture at the hands of the CIA. Her team had delivered her to the wolves without a hint of remorse! And since her return, they seemed not to care much about what she had suffered. In their eyes, she was the wicked traitor, whose only choice was to betray her family or be sent back to her torturers! In fact, only Patterson really seemed to treat her as a human being and not just as a source of information. But that girl was too kind for her own good, Jane thought with a mental chuckle.

Lost in her thoughts, the young woman never noticed the impending danger. A masked assailant sprang from the dark alley she had just passed, delivering a violent blow to her head. Still bruised from her fight with the Akkadian, her reaction time was slightly too slow, and she could only cushion the blow with her shoulder instead of dodging it. Using the momentum to revolve, she kicked the second man's back, who had followed after the first. With a sharp movement of her right arm, she struck a third assailant on the chin, using her left arm to twist the arm of the first assailant who was returning to the battle, before putting him on the ground, violently striking his right knee with her heel. She threw an elbow that broke the nose of one of the men, Jane suddenly stiffened as she felt the contact of a taser on her back. Her last thought before the electricity struck her was that she was barely a street away from her safe house.

…

.

Somewhere in the suburbs

The return to consciousness was painful. And dark.

-"Perfect, Sleeping Beauty wakes up," a masculine voice taunted from in front of her. An icy chill ran through her. She knew this voice, too well for her own good. The black hood covering her head was removed, revealing the face of the man who haunted her nightmares since many weeks ago.

-"Hello, Jane," said the bearded man. "We weren't properly introduced the last time. I'm Jake Keaton, CIA's new assistant-director". While observing her environment, the tattooed woman allowed herself a little laugh without joy.

-"Something fun ?" Her torturer inquired with a false politeness.

- "I was just wondering if the unhealthy interest in dragging me through dark basements at night was included in the resume," Jane retorted, trying to look confident. And this was despite having her arms and legs tied to a sturdy metal chair, under a single lamp which emitting a pale glow.

-"But she speaks!" Said Keaton, making slow circles around her. "After our little heads to heads I began to wonder if you were mute. I have to admit that, I haven't seen many people resisting our methods like you. "

- "I'll take it as a compliment," his captive replied ironically, trying to pierce the shadows that extended beyond the band of light in which she and Keaton were in. A classic tactic aimed at preventing her from determining the number of her opponents and their position, while they could see her perfectly.

-"But it is one," the man agreed from behind her, before putting his hands on her shoulders, almost making her blench. "While we are in good disposition, why not continue to chat and make this conversation more pleasant than the last?" The remark was accompanied by a slightly stronger pressure on her bruised shoulder pulling a slight gasp of pain from Jane.

- "I'll tell you the same thing as I told Carter, I don't have the answers to your questions."

-"But I haven't even asked you anything yet." said Keaton with a fake astonishment as he walked past her and sat down on a chair that someone had placed at the edge of the illuminated area.

-"New questions"? Asked Jane trying to stall for time. Maybe someone would notice her absence and start looking for her. But she quickly dismissed that thought. In your dreams, she thought, mentally recalling the recent attitude of the team towards her, "No one will come. You're alone, like the last time "

-"New questions for a fresh start," quipped the interrogator, casually crossing his legs and passing an arm over the back of his chair.

The silence lingered for a few moments but seemed to last centuries for Jane. Again, nothing new, the FBI used the same technique to stress their suspects and cause them to reveal small details just to break the silence.

The CIA's deputy director carefully watched his captive's change of attitude, noticing her breathing slowed down, her body stopped and her gaze emptied as it slowly dissociated itself from its surroundings.

-"Who trained you?" He asked as a test, not really expecting an answer.

Focusing on her own mind, Jane ignored him and only gave the man an empty look.

- "Come on!" Protested Keaton, continuing to study her reactions, "give me a bone to gnaw, my beautiful. Even Deputy Weller was more talkative than you".

There! He almost missed it. This little flash of interest when he mentioned the name of the FBI agent, before her eyes became inexpressive again. "I met him in Bulgaria, you know. Not a very accommodating man ". This time the young woman didn't react. "And I thought we were doing so well! Why turn everything into a competition", he said with a false sad look.

Ignoring him, Jane dived deeper into her own mind, waiting for the blows that wouldn't fail to come.

-"Who knows about Orion?" Still no answer. "Very well, time for the unpleasant means I guess," said Keaton in a fake sad tone. "Gentlemen, it's time to soften the meat, but not too much, I need her for her phone call", he added, rising and moving toward the shadows. Two sturdy men emerged from the shadows, and threw Jane's chair to the ground. Jane's head violently struck the concrete as she was unable to cushion the fall. While one held her on the floor, the second released her hands and pulled off her jacket, then tied them together again with a coarse, but solid, rope. They then freed her feet and dragged her to a hook hanging from the ceiling by a chain, under another bulb that had just been turned on. The rope hooked, someone in the shadows pulled on the other end of the chain, lifting the young woman until her feet barely touched the ground. Each of her ankles were then attached by a length of rope to a ring fixed in the concrete. Obviously her captors had learned the lesson of their last encounter.

Without warning the blows began to rain down: on her stomach stretched by the hanging, on her ribs, forcing her to gasp, on her back at the level of the kidneys. The second man soon joined the party, alternating the blows of a nightstick on her thighs and legs, and the electric shocks from what seemed to be from a cattle prod. The strikes had the misfortune of making her swing in the air, the movement sending shocks of pain to her contracted shoulders.

…

.

With Kurt

Special Agent Kurt Weller was sitting on his bed, with one arm folded behind his head. Despite the post-coitus endorphins traveling through his body, he couldn't get away from a certain discomfort. On a purely sexual level, his little entertainment with Nas was appreciable. But in spite of the satisfaction of his primal impulses, his mind was ill at ease. Part of him was angry with himself for being so weak and yielding to her advances twice in a short time. Especially since she had confessed to putting Borden's office under surveillance…

A situation which gave her access to lots of information to manipulate the team. The fact that she left immediately after the act also caused him to wonder about the sincerity of her intentions. Being used as a tool to release some sexual tension, he could accept. But a small insidious voice whispered to him that the NSA agent was sneaking into his life only to serve her own interests. And that was disturbing. Not to mention the risk to the cohesion of the team. The team ...

Involuntarily his mind drifted towards his teammates. If the word got out, he would never hear the end of it. None of them really liked the authoritarian woman. In fact, since what had happened with Jane, Reade and Zapata were extremely suspicious of people outside the team. Except for when they performed as a common front against Jane, like today's argument showed.…

Jane…

At the thought of the young dark haired woman, his stomach made a twist, and he exhaled at length. Jane inspired in him some feelings too contradictory for his taste. The primal part of his brain always felt betrayed by her lies and the death of Mayfair. But the analytic part could, no, wanted to believe in her good intentions. The revelation that over the three months, she had spent being tortured had been a hard blow to take. But it was less of a blow than hearing Keaton boast of having tormented her, and promising to do it again. At this memory, his fist clenched with rage. If Nas hadn't stopped him, he would surely have killed the bastard. Fuck, he almost regretted not having done it! Despite his anger and the distance he was trying to put between himself and Jane to protect himself, he couldn't help but notice some things. Dark circles under her eyes in the morning, her distant air as soon as she thought no one was looking at her, the pain that crossed her eyes as soon as Zapata or Reade make a remark. But the most disturbing was the distance she seemed to voluntarily put between her and the team. Her words were mostly limited to tactical advice or the transmission of information on Sandstorm, except with Patterson, who seemed the least resentful. In fact, thinking of his thanks for saving Allison and the baby, to whom she had responded with her own awkward congratulations for his paternity in the locker room, were what most resembled a normal discussion between them since her return. He could understand her own desire to protect herself emotionally, but he feared that the burden they placed on her shoulders would be too heavy for her. Perhaps the time had come to reach out to her again, like a friend? He thought, closing his eyes. The insistent ringing of his phone pulled him from his sleep much too soon for his taste.

Looking at the clock upon his awakening "Awesome five o'clock in the morning ...", he picked up his phone to be immediately overwhelmed by the speech of a terrified Patterson.

-"Patterson? Slow down, I don't understand what you're saying. " The following words froze his heart.

- "Weller, it's Jane ... she's missing."

…

.

Few minutes later, FBI office.

In any other circumstance, he would have probably laughed at the record time he had set for the office and the number of red lights he had burned. But not today. Meeting the team in Nas' secure office, he immediately noticed Zapata's sulky look.

-" What happened ? Where is Jane? "

- "No one knows," replied Reade darkly, "but it doesn't look good."

- "Wait a minute," Nas interjected, "for all we know; she may very well have been called by Sandstorm."

-" No"! The blonde computer scientist protested, "I'm sure something is wrong."

- "Okay Patterson, calm down and start again," Weller said, laying his hands on his friend's shoulders.

- "Ok ... OK. Jane had to see this guy last night ... "

- "A guy, what guy" ?! Kurt grunted, his tone a little too aggressive, temporarily attracting the half-amused, half-dismayed looks of Tasha and Patterson.

- "I think he's called Oliver," she continued, "and she met him at the gala where we arrested the CIA girl. They exchanged some messages, by the way, Jane is completely lost about dating ... I mean, this guy had to send like half a dozen not very subtle allusions to ask for a date, and she didn't notice anything until I told her..."

- "Patterson," Zapata mumbled to cut her off, as she saw the dark eyes that their leader was shooting towards the blonde. Disturbing…On the one hand, he always claimed to be angry with her and acted more distantly around Jane, but from another, he seemed to be seized with waves of uncontrollable jealousy as soon as a man showed interest in their tattooed colleague.

- "Uh ... yeah. Long story, short story, I asked her to give me some details and she sent me a message at 10 pm saying she was going home. "

- "If the date went well, she may have brought this guy back to conclude." Nas pointed it out, as if the question didn't matter, ignoring Kurt's glare, now focused on her.

- "First Jane would never bring an almost unknown guy to her home; this is the only place where she has a semblance of privacy. Secondly, her message didn't really give the impression that the date was a success". This time it was the blonde's turn to cast a disapproving glance at Kurt, noticing the satisfied look he made at the news.

- "And thirdly I found this a street away from her home," Zapata said, placing a broken phone in a evidence bag, on the table…Jane's cellphone.

- "And what were you doing in that neighborhood at four in the morning?" Asked Nas suspiciously.

- "Nothing of your concerns. But as I was in the neighborhood when Patterson called, I went to check the site. "

- "And anything besides the phone?" Interrupted Kurt with an urgent look at Tasha. She hesitated, glancing at the rest of the team.

- "Tasha found a little ... amount of blood," Reade eventually said, instinctively backing from the gaze of his leader and friend. "Patterson has launched an analysis but we haven't received the results yet. "

- "So maybe it's not Jane's blood."

- "I went to her safe house afterwards," Tasha went on, "There was no one there, but ... there's something we have to talk about. About Jane. " The young woman's serious and uncomfortable air attracted their attention. For weeks she seemed to make it her duty to constantly remind Jane that she wasn't a part of the team. But now, her look seemed ... haunted? With a gesture, he signaled for her to speak, surprised to see the woman usually so frank, hesitate, looking at the rest of the team.

- "If it concerns Jane, it concerns the team," he encouraged.

- "Actually I think it's the team, or at least a part of the team that is the problem," muttered the Latina.

-" What are you talking about!" Patterson said immediately. With a sigh, Zapata slowly pulled two notebooks from one of the large pockets of her coat.

- "Looking into her room, I saw this sticking out from underneath her mattress, she probably didn't see it before going out."

-" What is it? " Asked Reade intrigued, at the very same moment when the blonde shouted

"No, no, no, you have no right to touch that!" Weller's astonished eyes passed from the notebooks to the fuming computer specialist who was trying to seize them, then to Reade who looked puzzled, and to Nas who looked interested. Much too interested in fact.

- "These are her therapy notebooks," said Patterson indignantly, while trying to pull them out of Tasha's hands. "Since Jane has a hard time verbalizing her feelings, Robert suggested that she write or draw instead, to release her negative emotions. She sometimes shows him a few excerpts whenever she feels like confiding in someone. They are confidential! "

- "Actually they could give us a lot of information about her emotional state and help us make sure she remains focused on destroying Sandstorm. Or to see that she doesn't hide anything about the organization, if this really is her diary. " Retorted Nas, receiving shocked glances from Patterson and Kurt, and frankly disgusted looks from Reade and Zapata. The Latina folded her arm to prevent her from seizing one of the notebooks, leaving only the thicker one in Weller's hand that had just closed on it.

- "Ok, seriously, I was one of the first to say we should never have trusted Jane. I was also one of the least friendliest to her since her return. But frankly using her own fears to manipulate her ... even Jane doesn't deserve that", Reade said, staring at Nas in the eye.

- "Destroying Sandstorm is our priority…" Nas protested before being cut off by Patterson.

- "Of course it is, and to hell the medical secrecy, right! But this isn't new to you, is it? "

- "What are you talking about?" Asked Zapata, suspiciously.

- "A few weeks ago, I found a NSA bug in the room that Robert uses for his sessions with the team. I told Weller that he should do something about it. But now I still check his office for the bug before each team session".

- "As I told Deputy Director Weller, I was only trying to make sure Jane's loyalty doesn't change ..."

- "You spied on her personal sessions with her therapist," growled Reade. "And you let her do it", he said, looking at Kurt, which caused everyone to realize that he had been standing still for too long.

While no one was paying attention, Weller had begun to leaf through the book in his hands, his body froze in horror as he saw the contents. Jane had always been gifted for drawing, and in the past her notebooks were covered with representations of her tattoos, as she sought to find her own answers. But these drawings had nothing to do with it. They seemed to be memories, although seeing them, Weller hoped that they were rather representations of her nightmares. The shock finally stuck him and he dropped the notebook on the table, causing a general gasp of horror when it fell open.

Even the stoic Nas watched shaken at the extremely detailed representation of Jane hanging by her wrists, her feet not touching the ground, being beaten by two men, whose faces were curiously absent. Patterson reached out a trembling hand to turn a page, then another, tears filling her eyes as she watched the horrors followed each other, one after another. Jane attached to a chair, her body connected to an electric generator by electrodes that seemed to send painful discharges through Jane, judging by the thick lines made around her limbs to give an impression of jerky movements. Jane's head held in a barrel of liquid by two other silhouettes without faces. Jane prostrated on a tiled cell, desperately holding her ears, while in the upper corners of the room, speakers emitted sounds represented by small arcs of circles diffusing towards her. Jane locked up in what appeared to be a box too small to contain a human body, or tied in uncomfortable or painful positions.

- "This is ... what she experienced as a CIA prisoner"? Reade asked in a weak voice, his tone suggesting that he dearly hoped someone would correct him.

- "Oh my god, oh my god," moaned Patterson, shaking with uncontrollable sobs.

The least affected seemed to be Zapata, although seeing her look, Reade guessed that it was only because she had probably already leafed through the notebook before bringing it to them. Weller, for his part, resembled a man who had just seen his world collapse. His mind never ceased to repeat that evening. Him waiting at Jane's house and his tirade in which he became so inflamed he called her a liar. The entreaties of a tearful Jane begging him to listen to her explanations as she let herself be handcuffed. The realization struck him, now that the horror had replaced the anger he felt against her. She had not put up any resistance... When he had closed the handcuffs around her small wrists, with much more force than necessary, she had not once tried to escape from him. After so much time with her, he had a pretty good assessment of her skills, and he had no doubt that if she had wanted to, the young woman could have neutralized him in order to flee. Their fight in the shabby motel was proof of that. Even though she had been weakened by three months of torture and a couple of weeks of being on the run, she had given him a fierce fight, and when he thought about it, he realized that if she had wanted to, she could easily have killed him after recovering the weapon on the ground…Just as she would have surely slaughtered Tasha afterwards. But she didn't…Consciously or not, she hadn't resisted with much more force than was necessary to give herself a chance of escaping without seriously injuring them.

And the second realization struck him. He heard again, her words she had uttered during their meeting at the motel. The first words they had exchanged for months: "I'm not going back." His heart tightened a little more, rethinking the pain, fear and anger in her voice. She had thought that they had come to arrest her and return her to CIA.

Nausea continued to overwhelm him when he understood the underlying implication.

- "That day at the motel ... she thought we knew what she was going through. She thought ... we agreed with it ... "Kurt blurted out, pointing to the notebook, redoubling Patterson's tears and crushing the faces of Reade and Zapata in a mixture of disgust and guilt.

Before they could delve deeper into the issue, a shrill beep pulled the group from it's eye-opening contemplation.

-"What is that?" Kurt asked hoarsely. Noticing Patterson still sobbing, this time in the arms of Zapata, Nas recomposed herself a little and answered: "The restoration of the data is finished. When Agent Zapata reported finding blood we wanted to take a look at the CCTV images of the neighborhood. It just so happened that one of the cameras had a clear view of where the phone was. "

-"And what have you seen?" "

-" Nothing. Someone seems to have accessed the images before us, and erased them from the server. But the job was sloppy and Agent Patterson launched a program to recover the data and rearrange it so as to restore the image. " The NSA agent responded quickly by tapping to send the result to the screen.

The team saw Jane enter in the field, seemingly lost in thought. The attack was so fast that they wondered how Jane had succeeded in deflecting the first attack. The fight was intense, but brief, and ended when one of the men used an electric weapon to neutralize the young woman who had resisted valiantly against his companions. The two accomplices struggled back to their feet before helping the third man drag an unconscious Jane to a black van that had just stopped abruptly near them.

- "All hooded and no plate," grumbled Reade, "the only thing we know is that it has been removed."

- "Not quite," Nas interjected, replaying the video, "she doesn't seem to have received any serious injuries." Which means… "

- "The blood found at the spot is not her blood," added Patterson suddenly exhilarated. "It definitely came from the man with the broken nose. And if we have his blood, we have his DNA. "

- "Suppose he's not in the database," Zapata mumbled. "These guys seem to be well trained in close combat. We all know how good Jane is, even with the surprise, they have to have been experienced to neutralize her so quickly. "

- "And the timing is too convenient. All this seems to have been carefully planned, "Reade added.

- "But who can have the skills and resources to mount an attack on an FBI consultant?" "

- "The list is unfortunately full of people who would have a reason to do it," Nas exhaled, rubbing her temples, "Sandstorm, if they realized she was working for the FBI, a criminal group ...

-"Or the CIA", Kurt interrupted her with a bad feeling. Nas turned to him with a frown.

- "He wouldn't dare ..."

-"I'm not so sure now. He clearly told us. " Replied Kurt, becoming more and more uneasy.

-" Who are you talking about? " Reade asked, his eyes going from one to the other, trying to decipher the conversation of which only the two seemed to have the key.

- "During the mission in Bulgaria we met this CIA man-". Weller had no time to continue his explanation when Patterson uttered a victorious cry.

- "I found a link from the one who tried to erase the video, he's entered the server! "

-"And what?" "Zapata pressed as he approached the screen

- "It's curious, it seems to contain another link," observed the perplexed blonde.

- "A link to what? "

- "It would seem to be a video. But the coding is weird, I can't trace it or even copy it. It's a read-only file that will disappear after viewing. "

-"Am I the only one who has a bad feeling about this?" Asked Reade.

-"Open it," Weller ordered, hoping the document would contain enough to help find Jane. The analyst obeyed, and the black of the screen was replaced by an image of a clearly recognizable woman, though a black hood hid her face.

-"Jane," Kurt breathed, the relief of seeing her alive mingled with the fear of seeing her tied up.

- "According to the timecode, the recording took place around midnight," Nas observed, pointing to the white numbers in the bottom of the right-hand corner of the screen.

-"Who is this guy?" Zapata asked as she saw a man enter the field of sight, as Jane's head began to move under the hood.

- "Perfect, the Sleeping Beauty wakes up". The sudden sound of the speakers made them jump, while Weller gasped under the shock.

-"That voice ... it's that Keaton, son of a bitch!" He roared.

-"Who is Keaton?" Patterson asked him, astonished that he would recognize the abductor.

-"Carter's Successor," Nas said, "he was the man who detained and tortured Jane for three months too..." His revelation causing shocked gasps to come from the agents, whose eyes drifted towards the notebook before them.

Jane's voice brusquely brought them back to reality, and they watched with an anguish mingled with pride, as their teammate stood up to her executioner. But to them who knew her well, it was impossible to miss the little glimmer of fear in her green eyes. When she finally refused to answer and Keaton called his men, they all felt their blood freeze in their veins. They watched, horrified when Jane was to be brutally thrown to the ground, partly stripped, and then hung from a hook to which the camera zoomed.

-"Please don't do that," begged Patterson again in tears, her nails dug into Tasha's left arm, as if the torturers could hear her through the recording, and change their mind. Of course, her entreaty stayed a dead letter, and the team watched helplessly at the beginning of Jane's torture, all resentment towards her, fled at the sight of the beating she was enduring.