Summary: Part of my Jane/Oscar/Kurt series.
Set between Midnight Whispers Are Louder Than We Think and I Was Tricked Into Believing You Are The Only One For Me.
As Kurt starts to figure things out, it's his turn to pull away from Jane, and she in turn blames Oscar for that and rebuilds the walls between them. Angst, of course.
Characters: Jane Doe, Kurt Weller, Sarah Weller and Oscar.
Pairing: Jane/Kurt
And in a Moment, Your Whole World Comes Undone
Her walks from where she met with Oscar to Kurt's apartment had become, strangely, her favourite part of the day, the only time when she was truly alone, physically, emotionally. She was nothing but a nameless nobody wandering the dark streets of a metropolis that could easily swallow her, and she often wondered just how easy it would be for her to just disappear. Vanish.
Like every night, she finds herself at Kurt's front door, shoving her hands into her pockets she waits for him to get to the front door, like he does every night, like he has been doing for months. For months they've been dancing this silent dance, she goes to meet Oscar and comes back to Kurt, finding a place in his arms, falling asleep for a few hours before she leaves again, as quietly as she had arrived.
Kurt never said anything for the duration of those hours, just held her as long as she needed him to. If he was aware of anything, he never said anything. If he doubted anything, he never said anything either. That was Kurt, that was who he was, loyal to a fault, trusting her, giving her the distance she'd silently asked from her until she was ready.
Or until he is forced to find out.
Jane waits silently by the front door, slightly longer than usual, and when the door does finally open, she is shocked to see Sarah standing on the other side. Jane is speechless for a moment, her eyes darting around in a panic.
"He got called back to work," Sarah says, stepping to the side to make way for Jane who stars her ground. "It's ok, Jane, I know… I've known for a while."
Jane searches for a reason to not go in, for an excuse to turn back and head to her place, but her body betrays her, moving in, like a moth to a light, to the familiar surrounding of his home. Only he's not there and for the first time she recognises the weight of her intrusion into the sacred silence of the night.
She wants to apologise to his sister, but the blond woman just smiles, an understanding, sad smile and makes her way to her own bedroom. It is strange being here when he is not, and even though this ritual is months old now, it is not the same with out him leading the way to his room. She stands firm in the foyer for a long moment, pulling her phone out to make sure she had not missed a call back to work as well, but her screen is clear. She shoves it back into her pocket and in a moment finds her way taking the familiar path to his bedroom. To his bed. Sleep doesn't come as easily as it does when his arm is draped over her waist, but eventually it does.
It is almost dawn when he finally comes home, treading heavily through the entrance and towards his room, Mayfair's words keep repeating on a loop in his head.
New information has been brought to my attention.
Strange behaviour.
Have you noticed anything?
Of course he has, but he didn't say anything, not when it had started and not tonight to his boss.
I want to keep this quiet for now.
The team cannot know anything yet.
Just you and me, I need you to find out everything.
It is exactly what he has been avoiding for months, since that first night she came to him. He knew something was wrong. He knew he needed to find out, as part of his job. But he has turned a blind eye, avoided the topic at all costs because a part of him wanted to protect her, to protect her from them, from himself, from what might happen because another part of him cherished every night when she found her way into his arms.
So when he walks into his room, finding her curled up in his bed, clinging to his pillow, his heart and his mind fall into battle in which there can be no victor. He checks his watch, and he knows it won't be long before she wakes up and disappears. So he moves towards the bed, kicks off his seas, and kneels down, sitting on the ground, resting his back against the bed where she sleeps. Her breath is warm as it hits his cheek and he is not sure when or how it happens but he actually falls asleep.
The next evening, he stays at home, knowing his new mission should start soon, knowing exactly what it entails. But still, he gives himself one day before he starts following her, start sneaking around, doing his job, trying to find out what it is exactly she does before she comes to him. He allows himself just one more night to hold her as she sleeps, one more night when there are no secrets on his side of the bed as well.
And that is the last night that he manages to sleep. Because once he starts his investigation, once he starts following her on those secret outings of hers, he can no longer sleep. She still comes to him afterwards, still seeks comfort in his bed, in his arms, and while he tries to offer that to her, he cannot fake as well as she does.
He stops holding her throughout the night, waits for her to fall asleep before he pulls back, lying on his back and watching the ceiling for the next few hours. Soon after, the more he finds out about the secrets she has been keeping, he starts to turn his back to her, unable to even watch her as she slept. Until the day comes when he allows her into his bed but makes no move to hold her, keeps a distance between them and just lies there, on the other side, cold, distant… betrayed.
And she feels that, starts feeling it the first time he pulls his arm away when he thinks she has fallen asleep, and pretty soon she feels the weight of secrets on the bed balance out, her side no longer the one tipping over with the heaviness of lies. But still she comes back, for as long as he is opening the door for her, she will always come back to him.
The other man also feels the change in her, not knowing, of course the reason behind it, but she no longer calls him to meet up. They no longer spend evening just sitting in silence on that roof. They just meet regarding the mission, talk about what is needed from her and she leaves. She no longer seems to be seeking him for something else.
There is something heavier in the air that night when he chooses to change everything. She doesn't know about the meeting he had with Mayfair earlier, one of the many meetings they have had over the past weeks, meetings held late at night, at a bar on the other side of the city. She doesn't know what Mayfair had asked of him then.
And so it comes as a shock to her when, after he opens the front door and lets her in, he heads towards the kitchen instead of the bedroom. He grabs two glasses from the cupboard, places them on the counter and pours his father's favourite whiskey.
"Have a drink with me, Jane," he says blankly and for a moment she thinks she's dreaming. For a moment, she honestly considers turning back and leaving. But her steps move in his direction, nervous, unsure, but she will always be moving towards him. They down the first drink in silence, and he immediately refills both glasses and this time she waits before she lifts the glass to her lips.
He chugs it down and sets the glass back down, filling himself with enough liquid courage to finally say what he needs to.
"Were you ever going to tell?" his voice is surprisingly calm, unthreatening.
She watches him, her gaze dropping to her drink, it is her turn to search for courage. She can lie, she knows she can, but when she sets the glass back down, she knows what she needs to say.
"I don't know," she admits. And despite the rage within him, the one that has been brewing for weeks, he knows he cannot be angry at her honesty then. So he nods, grabs both glasses and places them in the sink, caps the bottle and puts it away.
"Ok," he just says. And he has a thousand more questions he needs to ask. The one playing at the tip of his tongue, What's his name?, threatening to escape, but he doesn't want to hear any lies tonight. So walking around the counter, he heads back towards his bedroom, not looking back to see whether she is behind him or not.
She watches him leave, feeling herself get heavier and heavier o the stool, paralysed by the truth, paralysed by the lies. She finally gets up, zips her leather jacket and head towards the front door.
And in that moment, her whole world comes undone.