A/N: So I was writing Chapter 8 of It's Not That Simple and this idea sort of popped into my head. Mancala was only mentioned a few times in the show and it made me wonder why Jane didn't go down to Roman and say, "Hey, do you want to play this game that you subconsciously remember?"
Anyway, on another note, this story isn't really a story. It's just a collection of one-shots and short little stories that don't really fit anywhere.
Disclaimer: I don't own Blindspot, never will, etc., etc.
"Hey," Jane greeted her brother as she walked into the cave-like room. Zero Division always felt like a prison now, knowing that there was a person imprisoned here day and night. She dropped to the floor next to the glass wall separating them, crossing her legs comfortably. A small box was in her hands, roughly whittled - seemingly made by hand.
"What's that?" Roman asked, after joining her on the floor, in that flat tone Jane hated so much. She hated seeing her brother so helpless, hated seeing him powerless to do anything, to remember anything. It was all her doing, trying to give him a better life than the one he had before, but sometimes she wondered after seeing this powerless Roman if it was really worth it. The Roman she knew as Remi was full of strength, full of danger, full of a kind of liveliness. He knew who he was, what his purpose was, and his ultimate goal, even though it wasn't exactly law abiding. Whatever wasn't strong within him was kept locked up in his steel-walled heart - and Jane fully believed that her brother had one. Dr. Sun was wrong. Jane would prove it.
Somehow, she would. But right now wasn't about proving her amnesiac brother had a heart - no, today was a day she was going to remember, because she didn't remember any sibling-like interactions like playing hide and seek. She doubted Roman did either.
So, Jane smiled at Roman, answering, "Mancala."
She watched as her brother frowned, trying desperately to remember something. Her heart thudded heavily as his brow furrowed, a concentrated expression on his face. He shouldn't look that way. But she knew it would have to be this way for a long time; waiting for Roman to remember anything he could about everything. Even she, herself, had flashes of old memories still. Jane just had to remember that it was all worth it if she could get her brother a better life.
"It's the game you were playing with the sugar cubes." She nudged her brother in the right direction of thought. "It's what helped Patterson solve a clue that led to the Viper Kings."
"I remember that," Roman said, a slight understanding in his eyes. "I didn't know what I was doing but it felt right."
"Yeah, well," a corner of Jane's mouth quirked, "I figured you might want an actual board with pieces." She opened the box, taking out a game board and a small pouch of miniature marbles. The game board was a flat rectangle with rounded corners. Twelve large, shallow pits had been carved into the light wood. There were two other pits at the ends of the rectangle, each spanning the width of the board.
Roman studied the board with masked curiosity. He looked up at his sister after a minute and commented, "It looks different."
Jane couldn't deny nor confirm that statement, having no idea what he was talking about. Her memories hardly ever showed her their lives at the orphanage, a fact that frustrated her. (She also would never admit that she was a little envious of Roman immediately remembering things from their childhoods.)
Jane tilted her head encouragingly instead, indicating Roman should go on. Her brother obliged, "It's not grey."
Immediately, Jane caught on to what the game boards must have looked like: egg cartons. She supposed it made sense, a group of young kids finding a discarded egg carton and a bunch of small rocks to play a board game in secret in an orphanage that ordered children to kill pet rabbits. It was a wonder that they had enough innocence to play a game together and not end up with injuries.
She glanced at the board, a thoughtful look on her face. "I guess I should have painted it grey, then."
Roman gave her a small smile, one that barely curved the corners of his mouth but the amusement was still there.
` Jane went on, apologetically, "The FBI wouldn't let me give you access to the pieces," she rolled her eyes, "because they were afraid you could somehow escape using them."
Her brother stared at her. "They're scared of me, aren't they?"
She internally winced. This was not the direction she wanted to go. Still, she answered reluctantly, "They're scared of things they don't understand or know about. Everyone is, I guess. I don't have much experience in that area."
Roman cast his eyes down to the floor. "I was a bad person before. They're right to be wary."
"Doesn't mean you can't go out for a walk or something," Jane said, her frustration with that issue evident.
Roman shrugged, appearing nonchalant. Yet Jane saw the fleeting longing expression on his face before it was wiped away. Her resolve hardened - she was going to get him out of there, with the FBI's permission or not. It wasn't right, holding an amnesiac prisoner and providing him only the basics. She knew, by experience, that it was easier for a person to cope with amnesia if they went out and tried different things, relearned their favourites and their hatreds. Even though it wasn't a particularly nice feeling knowing that you didn't know anything (and was that ironic), it was refreshing to be able to make your own choices unbiased by preferences. Jane wanted Roman to be able to experience that kind of feeling.
Pushing away those thoughts, wanting desperately to put a spark of liveliness into Roman, she turned her attention to setting up the game. Arching an eyebrow at her brother, Jane challenged, "Wanna play?"
And she inwardly grinned victoriously as a spark entered his eyes. "Bring it."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it!