A/N: Okay, this took me forever and a day to write (or at least that's what it feels like) and I wasn't sure how to put an end to it so… yeah. I just ended it.
I do not speak all of the languages mentioned in this story and for most of them I asked native speakers to help me out but there definitely are some mistakes in there. Don't sue me. I only love playing around with languages. (In reality I'm that Florian tbh).
Italic means either memory/ flashback or translation. :)
So, enjoy!
The New York Office of the FBI was quiet when they got there. It seemed that not a single person was in the building, everyone still at home probably enjoying the first coffee of the week and having a full breakfast to start off into this Monday the right way. Or maybe they were in the middle of getting their kids ready for school. Or oversleeping or putting make-up on or deciding on what to wear. But not a single soul had come into work yet.
It was a beautiful feeling, Jane decided, resting her head on Kurt's shoulder as they rode up in the elevator which was as silent as the rest of the office. It was 6:30am on a Monday morning and for as long as she could remember, there had always been something going on in SIOC at this time of the day. The bustling in the morning hours had always been followed by a long day and more often than not that had included risking their lives and saving the world. Whereas the saving the world part had always given her a good feeling about what she was doing the almost dying part wasn't nearly as much fun.
Smiling up sleepily at the man beside her she was glad that today there was not yet any sort of buzzing going on. As had become the norm lately.
In the last few weeks they were mostly busy cleaning up the Shephard and Sandstorm mess. Most of their days they spend indoors simply filling out paperwork and while they all moaned and complained about it to each other and whoever wanted to listen it gave them some time to breathe for the first time in two years.
Since the rebuilding of their floor had been completed just last week, now when they stepped out of the elevator everything looked just as it had the first time Jane had walked through those doors. As if nothing had changed when in reality everything had. It was a weird feeling.
"You're lost in thoughts today" Kurt noted besides her taking her hand in his "Everything okay? Are you nervous?"
"No" she shook her head threading her fingers to his enjoying his warmth "I was just thinking that I like the quiet in the morning. And the fact that nothing world threatening has happened this week. It feels normal, peaceful. But kinda weird" she admitted "It's different from everything I can remember. Not that that's saying much but-"
"You deserve feeling peaceful" he cut her off gently.
"I wasn't saying I wasn't. I'm not sad about not remembering anymore. I remember all the important stuff" Jane smiled up at him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
He deepened the kiss and reclaimed his hand from hers, bringing it to the back of her neck and pulling her closer to him, his other hand slowly trailing south to the rim of her short. He felt her draw in a sharp breath and whispered against her lips "There's a few other things I like about it being so quiet here in the mornings."
"I can see" she grinned letting her hand travel underneath his shirt and gripping his bare back tightly. "But as much as I'd love to continue this-" she pressed a last peck to his lips "I do have an appointment. Remember?"
"How could I forget the reason I had to get out of bed this early and more importantly letting you get out of bed this early?"
"I told you that you could stay in bed and come into work later" she gave back cocking her head to the side "But someone told me that going into work with me is so much better than sleeping for another hour without me."
"Well. It is" Kurt replied earnestly "Because wherever you are is where I wanna be."
That warmed her heart and her mind and her whole body really. Sometimes she couldn't believe that this guy right there existed and loved her. "I love you too. But I think now's the time to split up for the day" she pouted half playfully half seriously "Think you can manage without me for a bit?"
"But only just. I still don't get why the Linguistics Department schedules their appointments this early."
After leaving Kurt to tackle his paperwork for the day Jane had found her way to the right wing - and hopefully right room as well- and at 7am sharp she knocked on the door of some Mr. Florian Martin and waited.
She didn't know what exactly she was supposed to be doing here or what good it could possibly do but Director Hirst had insisted that she should find out what languages she was able to speak. Why that couldn't be discovered on the go when she was confronted with it was beyond her and since she wasn't even an official agent yet, well, she was definitely on the bottom of the food chain. And really, it promised to be way more fun than spending the day doing paperwork.
And she had to admit she was a little curious to learn something new about herself. The moments where she was stunned about her abilities had gotten fewer as she had found a daily routine and got to know herself better. She was also intrigued how many languages that Mr. Martin would be able to speak because she had been told that out of all people in his department he spoke the most languages. And she didn't even have an inkling of how many languages a normal person would be able to speak.
Just then the door opened and a very tousled looking young man was standing in front of her holding out his hand and smiling "Good morning. My name is Florian Martin. You must be Jane Doe?"
She took his hand cautiously and nodded "Good morning Mr. Martin. Yes, I'm Jane. Director Hirst made the appointment. I hope I didn't get the time wrong?" She looked him over with an eyebrow raised but smiling politely, he seemed rather nice.
The man opposite her grinned a little awkwardly and ran his hand through his hair in a very similar motion Kurt always did. He then tried to straighten his plaid dress shirt and cleared his throat "No. No, you got the time absolutely right I just kind of overslept. And it's going to be a long day because I'll actually leave for a few months this afternoon which is why the only free space in my schedule was to this ungodly hour but please come in" He had finally stopped rambling and took a step back letting her into his office which was a lot larger than she had anticipated.
Every wall except for the one on the side of the door was filled with bookshelves in a way that there was no actual wall to be seen. The books ranked from looking really old to just out of the book shop and it gave the office a cozy atmosphere. Jane scanned the books for a while seeing lots of different kind of letters and languages and she smiled a little. She had a feeling that she used to go to libraries a lot because this room reminded her of one and it felt like coming home.
Florian Martin went to the desk in the middle of the room which was – unsurprisingly – crammed with books as well but he somehow managed to make just enough room to place two pots of coffee on it before gesturing her to sit down opposite him which she did.
"So. What exactly am I supposed to do here, Mr. Martin?" she asked him after watching him take a sip from his coffee and leaning back in his chair.
"Well, first of I'd be really grateful if you'd call me Florian because I always feel so old with the whole Mr. Martin. I hope it's okay if I call you Jane as well?"
"I actually have never had anyone call me Mrs. Doe. So Jane is more than fine with me" she laughed then tested out his name "Florian. It's kind of an unusual name isn't it?"
"Well, that depends on where you're from. In Germany, Poland and France it's just a name like any other. But yes, in this part of the world it does sound kind of unusual" he agreed "You did a great job pronouncing it, though. Not a lot of people get it right on the first try, or ever. That always did become a problem for my girlfriends after some time." He added as an afterthought then got back to the topic on hand.
"Director Hirst told me a little about your amnesia and the fact that you've remembered several languages when confronted with them. Which, by the way, is absolutely fascinating! I've never heard of anything like it before."
Jane smiled dryly "I don't think there's ever been anything like it before."
"Yeah, sorry" he blinked, dumbfounded for a second, his young age shining through just a little bit more. Was he younger than her, she wondered. "So, apparently you can't actively access those languages at first but when you do face them you are able to understand, reply, read and speak it. Did I get that right?"
She nodded. "So you're going to confront me with all the languages there are?" she wanted to know apprehensively "How many languages are there even?"
"Around 7000" he shot back immediately "But it depends on who's counting because you have a lot of dialects as well and sometimes it's hard to decide whether this is still the same language or not" he explained "And don't worry I'm not going to speak to you in all 7000 languages because, sadly, I don't speak all of them."
He had opened some kind of folder and skimmed through it for a minute while she simply watched him think. When he looked back up he shot her a smile. "I think we'll start with something easy first. And it happens to be one of my favorite languages."
"¿Te gusta bailar?" (Do you like dancing?) he asked with a twinkle in his eyes as he watched her face show recognition and confusion.
"Supongo, pero solo he bailado una vez, que yo recuerde." (I guess so. But I've only danced once that I can remember) She smiled at that memory of her and Kurt dancing on their undercover mission. 'It might be another one of your hidden talents' he had said and pulled her into his arms and for the first time in her new life she had felt safe and like she belonged. She still cherished those moments in Kurt's arms more than anything, they were her home, where she wanted to stay. She had almost forgotten the other man in the room but he still looked at her expectantly "Pienso que lo hice bastante bien" (I think I did pretty good) she continued.
For a moment she tasted the words on her tongue, let herself feel the language. "I like it" she said eventually "It sounds warm and not really cheesy but also kind of melodious."
Florian nodded in agreement "Yes. That's exactly what I love about Spanish and it seems you're comfortable with the language as well. But really, I can't say I'm very surprised."
Jane went quiet for a minute remembering someone else on another mission in what felt like another life time. "My brother can speak Spanish. I guess I expected I would be able to speak it as well. And it does seem like a rather common language."
"Et qu'en est-il du français? C'est la langue officielle de l'Organisation des Nations unies et de l'Union européenne" (And what about French? It's the official language of the United Nations and European Union) He seemed to be proud of having thought about that bridge between the languages and grinned at her.
She pulled a face but couldn't helping grinning back at him. "Bien sûr je parle français" (Of course I speak French) she said with a playful dismissive wave of her hand "Also I don't like the sound of it very much" she admitted "It sounds a little-"
"Snooty? It absolutely does" he agreed cutting her off "But it is called the language of lovers so there is some sort of sing-song to it" Florian shrugged "I think you either love it a lot or don't like it at all. There's not much in between with the French language."
They went quiet for a little bit and Jane let her mind wander, wondering how on earth she learned all those languages. Was she taught by a native speaker? Or did she serve in those countries? But in how many countries could one person serve in let's say maybe 10 years? And once again her thoughts were interrupted by Florian.
"So I take it you're not much of a romantic?"
Flabbergasted she looked up at him "Um. Excuse me?"
He started blushing right then and there and once again she asked herself how old he even was. "I'm sorry.. That's really not my place. I just.. What languages a person speaks and enjoys hearing they usually say something about that person and I'm just really interested on the impact languages have on our life and our attitude or vice versa how our approach to the simplest things effects our approach to specific languages."
"O-kay" she nodded, not completely convinced but willing to let it go because he probably really was a sucker for languages and that was probably a key qualification for this kind of work so she let him do his job.
"I remember that I speak Russian, though, and Bulgarian which is pretty similar, right? That sounds very musically as well but it's not this… snooty" she finished using his own description of the French language which did seem fitting in her eyes.
"Ah. You speak Russian?"
"Конечно" (Of course) she grinned back confidentially "I think from all the languages I know so far it's probably my favorite one. Every sentence just feels like the words actually belong together."
"That's probably because of the similar endings" he nodded in acknowledgement. "You're right, too. Bulgarian sounds a lot like Russian. It's one of the Slavic languages. Inny język z innego konta świata by był polski. Mówi tobie to coś?" (Another language from that corner of the world would be Polish. Does that sound familiar?)
"Tak, ale nie jest taki ładny język jak rosyjski." (Yes but it's not as pretty as Russian)
"No. It's more like Czech and Slovakian. But all of them do have the same origin in a language called Proto- Slavic."
They tried out a few more of those Slavic languages and she found herself really enjoying talking about something as mundane as different languages and their origins and in the midst of it all sometimes she caught a glimpse of her life before all of that. For example this one really cold in winter in Siberia, Russia when all she and Markos – she was pretty sure it was him – had had were just what they were wearing which had consisted of their winter jackets and a backpack with zwieback and not even water because that had been completely frozen on their first day and destroyed the bottle it had been in. She could practically feel the cold wind cutting into her skin just there in this office, completely lost in her memory.
Their breaths had frozen immediately after leaving their mouths. She could see chunks of ice on her eyelashes when she closed her eyes and her nose hurt even with her scarf pulled up right till under her eyes. The wind was blowing in their faces with a force she had never experienced before and most of the time she couldn't even see Markos walking next to her but she soldiered on. They simply kept going for as long as they could. When the wind would become too much they would look for shelter in the caves the mountain formed to their sides.
"You've ever been this far north?" Markos asked holding his hands in front of his mouth, blowing his fingers to warm them, while she was trying to ignite a camp fire to get some warmth back into their bones.
"No. The coldest I've had was a winter holiday in New York three years ago. First time I've seen snow" she grinned "I think I might've just seen enough snow for the rest of my life now."
"Ahh New York City around Christmas is such a wonderful place to be" Markos exclaimed "Did you see the Rockefeller Center?"
"I did. But right now I'd be just as fine with a small cozy café to keep the cold out. And maybe a hot chocolate and a good book."
Her companion looked at her thoughtfully "I never would've pecked you for a reader. You always strike me as more of a fighter."
"Ah but you can't win all fights with your fists" she explained with a small smile "Some you have to win with your mind. And the best way to sharpen your mind is by reading as many books as you can find. Only a sharp mind makes for a good weapon."
"What about Arabic?"
Ungently she was pulled back into the reality of Florian Martin's cozy office and she could only just suppress a shudder at the warmth of the room in contrast to the cold wind she had felt in her mind. Jane blinked, needing a minute to become fully aware of her surroundings and the reason why she was here. "Arabic?" she repeated unintelligently.
He threw her an amused smile at her confusion "Yes. Arabic. Do you recall anything about Arabic? We've already established your ability to speak Dari and Pashto due to your stay in Afghanistan. Arabic sounds similar to Dari, or Farsi as they call the Persian language in other places, but it's got different words and even the letters are partly different."
Jane, now completely back with the other man, shook her head "No, I don't think I've ever tried it but we had a case with a Syrian child once and I could understand it pretty well."
"The fascinating thing about the Arabic language is the high diversity you'll find in different regions. Just because you understand Syrian Arabic really well doesn't mean you are going to understand everyone else speaking Arabic. Especially the people in the Maghreb countries have a very different approach to the language due to the French influence. Even native speakers from different regions have got problems understanding each other sometimes" he laughed "You will not believe me if I told you how much time I've spent over there just trying to understand all the differences and fine nuances. And reading the Qur'an is another topic as well. There's so much, it's exhausting, really."
Jane couldn't keep herself from laughing. "That sounds awful and not nearly as much fun as the Slavic languages."
"لا تضحك ع حالك، اللغة العربية الها جماليتها الخاصة" (But don't be fooled, the Arabic language has its own beauty) he smiled.
"هاد الشي فيني شوفو ، الوقدامة وقدسية." (I can see that. It sounds really old and sacred) She enjoyed the feeling of the language. At the same time her memories painted a rather dark picture of her time in the countries but she couldn't quite put her finger on it so she let it be. It would come back one day, or it wouldn't and maybe that wouldn't be so bad either.
"It does, doesn't it? Even though the first known written document is the Qur'an between the years 610 and 632. So it would seem it's not that old. But the oldest evidence of the Arabic language actually dates back to the 9th century before Christ."
She could hear that he was completely in his element at this point so she just listened and let him talk. It was amazing what he knew and she could absolutely understand his fascination with languages. "The Arabs actually brought some of their words into the Spanish vocabulary especially because they had besieged the region known as Andalucía. Another reason why I love the Spanish language so much."
Ah. There it was again. She almost laughed at his enthusiasm about this one particular language that looked just like any other language in her eyes. But to each their own she thought.
Almost in a blur they went through a few other languages of the Middle East. Including Hebrew, which she was not as fluent in but still understood mostly, and Turkish where she picked up a new favorite word – ahenk (rhythm).
"Are you hungry?" Florian wanted to know all of the sudden and to her surprise Jane realized that she actually was because apparently they had already talked through the better part of the morning and it was almost lunch time. She thought about declining because she had told Kurt they'd meet up for lunch if they were both free at that time but her growling stomach decided for her and before she could disagree he had already gotten up to get them two sandwiches.
She took the time to stretch her legs a little as well and walked through the office looking through some of the older looking books. She remembered this feeling of old books all around. She remembered the touch and the smell of them and the longer she wandered around the more she felt at home. She would've to make Kurt tell her what the best libraries in town were. Or maybe Patterson would be more firm on that matter.
When he returned he found her with her nose in a book and she seemed completely enamored. He stepped around her to glance at the book title "Can you read that?" he asked sitting down on his chair again unwrapping his sandwich and putting hers next to her empty coffee pot. He watched her for a bit as she nodded.
"What language is this?"
"It's Afrikaans. It's one of the official languages in South Africa, where you're from" he told her having remembered reading that in her file. He wasn't sure she'd remember it because she had still been so young when she left there but obviously she had a talent for languages so it didn't surprise him that much.
"Dit voel soon tuis." (It feels like home) she whispered staring down at the words that seemed to take her back to a completely different time and place.
"Remi! Look me into the eyes."
The girl simply glared at her adoptive mother and stayed silent. From the corner of her eye she could see Roman hiding behind the huge velvet red curtains that seemed to be everywhere in this new home of theirs.
"What did you say?"
Still she wouldn't give up a single word and stared right ahead, not even blinking. All the while she kept checking on Roman to see if he was okay.
"I told you I don't want you speaking that language anymore. I want us to talk to each other and understand each other" their mother, Ellen, crouched down next to her and looked into her big green eyes that had already seen so much more in 8 years than what any one person should see throughout their whole life time.
"Remi. Roman." She turned to look at Roman as well, extending her arm willing him to join them. After a moment he complied but not before checking with his sister if she agreed with it. She let him know that it would be fine, that Ellen wouldn't hurt him, she wouldn't let her.
Sighing Ellen Briggs looked at the two broken kids in front of her "I thought we'd chosen your new names so we can have a new start. All of us together. As a family."
Both children nodded slowly. Roman had reached Remi now, grabbing her arm tightly with his small hands. He simply looked at their mother with big blue eyes, his scar the only reminder that he wasn't a normal kid. He never talked to her. She was sure that he understood English and pretty certain that he could speak it at least elementary. But he wouldn't talk to her, he always listened. Except for when he was talking to Remi. In a language she couldn't understand. Their oppressor's language.
And that was the heart of their current issue.
"I understand that you feel like you need to have your own secret language to keep things from me because you don't know if you can trust me yet. You don't know much about me yet so how could you trust me? After everything they put you through?"
The only reaction she got was Remi's gaze who softened a little and she took that as a good sign.
"I promise you I won't ever let anything like that happen to you again. I promise I will keep you safe from any harm that I can." She smiled "I already love you like you were my own flesh and blood. And I want us to become a real family. But you need to trust me. And you need to trust me that you can talk to me about anything and that I will love you regardless. Do you think you can do that? Can you give us a chance?"
To her surprise – after checking with Remi – it was Roman who answered her with a hoarse "Yes." He didn't say anything else but he held out one of his small hands for her to take. She pressed a soft kiss to it before taking it into both of her bigger hands smiling.
"Remi and Roman. I will always fight for you."
Jane blinked back tears. She could stop them from falling down her cheeks but she could still only see the book through some sort of glass wall. Abruptly she clapped the book shut and put it back to the spot she had taken it from in the first place.
Still reeling from all the emotions she had just involuntarily broken open she turned around, glad that Florian seemed to be occupied with his sandwich and started walking back to her chair, plopping down on it and picking up her sandwich.
"I guess I speak Afrikaans."
"You do" he agreed and since he had already finished eating, he simply kept talking "Afrikaans originated from the Dutch language but ended up being simplified. The Dutch language itself sounds a lot like German, specifically Low German which is an old form of the German language and it's usually only used in the northern parts of Germany and mostly by older generations. It's dying out but I think there's even a part of Brazil that has 'Pomerano' – as they call it – as a co- official language."
"Good to know" she grinned, having found her equilibrium again "So if I speak Low German which sounds a little like Afrikaans, a language I definitely do speak, I will always find my way around in that certain part of Brazil?"
"Yes" he agreed jokingly seriously "Or you could just try out Portuguese which is a lot like Spanish and I'm almost a hundred percent certain that we will find out that you do indeed speak this language" he openly laughed then "Doesn't it get tiring, being able to do absolute everything?"
"Oh believe me. There are things I can't do. You should ask the kitchen in my first safe house about my talents in the kitchen" Jane joked. Or Kurt's kitchen for that matter.
"Ich denke, wenn du etwas lernen möchtest, dann gibt es nichts was du nicht tun kannst" (I think if you want to learn something then there's nothing you can't do) He shook his head in mock exasperation.
"Danke für dein Vertrauen, Florian. (Thanks for your confidence, Florian). Hey! I think I've finally found the language that goes well with your name. It sounds a little harsh though" she added.
"Gee. Thanks. My name only fits harsh languages" he sighed "Maybe this is the time and place to end this experiment. There aren't a lot more languages I can ask you about anyway because I don't speak that many more languages. And I do hope you stay with your CIRG team because if you ever decided you wanted to join the Linguistic Department my boss would probably welcome you with open arms. And he would kick me out the back door."
Jane laughed loudly and was only interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. It was Kurt and of course he didn't wait for the "Come in" before he opened the door and stepped in, frowning at her bemused expression.
She looked over at Florian shortly and extended her arm to him with a small smile before she turned back to look at her boyfriend.
"I don't think you have to be worried about that anytime soon. I'm happy just where I am."
A/N: Let me know if it was confusing to read or if you found it okay. I'd be especially happy for a feedback this time around. :)
