On her days off, Jane still spent time discovering herself.
The first choices were simple: coffee or tea? (Coffee.) Pepperoni or sausage? (Neither; she preferred anchovies.) Scrambled or fried? (Scrambled, with cheese.) Now, a year and a half later, her choices were much more involved.
For example, what were her views on politics? Was she a Democrat, a Republican, or a adherent of one of the fringe groups like the Libertarian Party or the Green Party? After careful consideration and research, she decided she was most likely a Democrat, though she still couldn't decide how she leaned within the party.
Her next big hurdle involved religion. Did she believe in a higher power, and if so, which one? She did her homework, Google searching religions and visiting churches and synagogues and mosques all over the city. Months of study went by with nothing jumping out at her, and at last, she decided that she was agnostic – she acknowledged the possibility of a higher power, but didn't think there was any way to be sure.
Currently, she was weighing something of a more personal nature.
"Headed your way, Jane," came Kurt's urgent warning over the comms.
"Damn it," she muttered under her breath. When would they stop coming? Flexing her wrists, she settled into a fighting stance and waited. When the first man turned the corner, she snapped a fist into his throat, sending him gasping to the ground. She disabled the next two men with equal efficiency and ran to rejoin the others. Most of her mind was on the mission, but part of her was asking: what did she want to do with her life?
Most people think about this in high school, she thought, ducking under a new foe's punch and kicking his feet out from under him. They're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed little teenagers, visiting their school counselor's office and asking questions like "What college should I go to?" and "What should I major in?" If only there were school counselors to help memory-wiped adults decide on their careers. She cracked a smile as she imagined how that conversation would go.
"Well, currently I'm working with the FBI, but I'm just not sure if that's the place for me."
"Really? Tell me more. What did you do before you joined the FBI?"
"I was part of a terrorist organization working to bring down the US government."
"...I see... and how did you come to join the FBI?"
"I wiped my own memory and woke up naked in a duffel bag in Times Square."
If the counselor didn't take off running after that, she'd be seriously concerned for their mental health.
"Hey, Jane, you with us?" Kurt put a hand on her arm. "We got the item. Let's get out of here."
She forced her attention back to the present. "Yeah, right. Let's go."
Once they got to the office, Kurt led the debrief. He kept it short; everyone was exhausted. Jane was grabbing her jacket from the locker room when an idea occurred to her.
She might not have a school counselor, but she had the next best thing: a forensic scientist.
Patterson was still in her lab, flipping through unsolved tattoos on the big screen. She smiled tiredly when Jane came through the door. "What's up, Jane?" she asked, setting her tablet aside.
Now that Jane was in the lab, she felt silly. "I had a question, but – you're busy. I'll ask another time."
"No, that's okay. I wasn't getting anywhere anyway." Patterson plopped down in an office chair, motioning for Jane to do the same. "What's your question?"
Jane hesitated, not sure what to say. "I, um... how did you decide you wanted to be a forensic scientist?"
Patterson grinned. "I've always loved solving puzzles, ever since I was a kid. When I was nine, I took apart my Sega Genesis – that's a video game console," she clarified, noting Jane's bemused expression. "I wanted to see how it worked. My mom was mad at me until she saw that I knew how to put it back together. I just worked up from there. Forensics are essentially a puzzle. You start with pieces, and you put them back together until they make a whole."
"So you chose a career based on what you like to do?"
She shrugged. "That, and I wanted to make a difference. Hence forensic science and the FBI instead of something in the private sector. Why do you want to know?"
Jane sighed and looked away, staring at a picture of one of her lower back tattoos. "I know that, technically, I chose to become an FBI informant. And once I got here, I chose to help the FBI instead, though I didn't really understand that at the time." She paused.
"And now you're wondering if this is really something you would choose, if the circumstances were different?" Patterson asked gently.
"Exactly." Now that Patterson had guessed it, the words came out in a rush. "Most people, they get asked these questions in high school and they find themselves during college and by the time they graduate, they know what they want to do. Or at least they have some idea. Apparently, I wanted to be a Seal, but then I turned my back on that and went to work for my mother. Now I work here. But as the months go by I can't help but wonder – if and when all of the tattoos are solved and Shepherd is caught, what am I going to do then?"
"That's the beautiful thing," Patterson replied. "You get to figure it out as you go along. All of us who made these choices in high school and college, we didn't just wake up one day and say 'I'm going to be this' or 'I'm going to be that.' We had to research, study, practice, and fail before we found what we would succeed at. You get to do that as an adult. It's more complicated, but the same concept."
"But how do I do that as an adult?" Jane asked. "I don't know what to do, Patterson."
"Well, let's start right now." Patterson got to her feet and started to pace. "What is something that you find fun?"
"Fun." The word felt foreign on her tongue. "Um..." An image of Weller coming in for a kiss sprang into her mind. She pushed it away and forced herself to focus. "I... I like to draw."
"Good! That's good. That's a start, Jane. What else?"
Back and forth they went, Patterson asking question after question: Reading or math? (Math.) History or science? (Both.) Art or computers? (Art, if she had to choose.) Working with people or working independently? (Working with people, with the opportunity to be independent sometimes.) Making money or making a difference? (Making a difference.)
Jane didn't make any big choices that night, but once it was done, she knew that she would discover her calling someday – and more importantly, she wouldn't have to do it alone.
I'm venturing into a new fandom today. Hello, Blindspot fandom, nice to meet you! This started with a prompt: "days off." Let me know what you think in the reviews! I loooove constructive criticism!