A/N: So, um...Hey? Hope your summer's going alright! I really shouldn't make promises on upcoming chapters...Anyway, this is a test run of sorts, 'cause I'm so behind that I only just caught the season 3 finale a few days back. It's a little sad it took me this long to make some time. For those actually waiting for an update on It's Not That Simple - I swear, I'm revising the draft right now. It'll be out in the coming days. Pinky promise. (Thanks for putting up with me, by the way! Love to all of you who have favourited, followed, and reviewed.)

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Blindspot. Or the definition below.

all's fair in love and war

proverb

in certain highly charged situations, any method of achieving your objective is justifiable.

A sinister smirk pulled at her lips as she sat there, surrounded by the FBI team. Agents Patterson, Reade, and Weller - and, for some reason, Rich Dotcom. Agent Zapata was missing, but perhaps she was dealing with some business. No matter; Remi would simply have to reconfigure her plan. They would all be torn apart in time.

Kurt… A small voice whispered brokenly, weakly. Remi blinked. That voice sounded like hers, but more emotional, more alive. It didn't contain any of the danger she often heard herself - instead, it was soft and empathic where Remi wasn't. The ZIP wasn't causing this, was it? It couldn't be creating strange voices in her head. There wasn't much research into the drug, but from what was gleaned from some medical intel, it would wipe her memories and do no other harm. The only problem was that Shepherd had flooded her body with it.

These voices may well be just the beginning.

She'd just have to adapt like she always did. Shut up! She snarled at the voice, successfully drowning out the melodic tones.

She was Remi, and she was strong. She would not allow some drug to ruin her mission to change the world.

'Jane', apparently, was her name. Somewhere inside of her, she scoffed at how unoriginal that was. Jane Doe. So plain, so...inconsequential. Nevertheless, she responded to it as any good operative would. Made it part of her blackened soul, changed her movements to match this new person she had become. Allowed herself to display affection for a man she didn't know. She must have cultivated a strong connection with the rest of the team if they greeted her with smiles on their lips and relaxed postures.

Weller was still in the hospital by the time Remi was allowed to leave. Patterson and Dotcom had swooped in not long after that, escorting her to the lab to talk to her about something they wouldn't reveal in the hospital. As she stared at the buildings rushing past the window in the black van, Remi idly wondered where Shepherd and Oscar and Roman were. As she said, she was missing time. A lot of time. Chances were that she didn't remember at least a couple of months.

She sanded the rough edges of her usual voice and made sure to appear hesitant as she turned to the agent beside her. "Do, um...do you know the date?" She asked Patterson, who was fiddling with something on a tablet. Patterson glanced up at her, features softening, something foreign entering her eyes.

"Yeah, uh, it's the twentieth of May." The blonde tilted the screen of the tablet toward her, showing a calendar that had that very date highlighted. Remi stared at the year proudly displayed above the month.

That can't be right. I - I left in 2015. This - She swallowed, then thanked Patterson and focused on her hands. Patterson sent her a worried look when she wasn't looking, but let her be.

It had been years - too long - since she began this op. And after all of that, she couldn't remember anything. A massive blank portion in her mind. This was much more than a couple of months - this was years and years and years that she didn't remember.

She needed Shepherd. Or Oscar. Or Roman.

Remi knew she couldn't contact any of them, especially after what she assumed was a collapse. The team would be watching her carefully now; for innocent reasons, yes, but watching her nonetheless. In the meantime, she'd just have to collect information to fill that gap in her mind.

The car slowed to a stop in front of the NYO. Patterson and Dotcom wordlessly exited the van, leaving Remi to follow them as they stepped into the building and into an elevator. An awkward silence followed as the elevator ascended.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Patterson asked, breaking the quiet.

Remi shrugged, tilting her head. "It's all a jumble right now. I'm trying to get it all in order."

Patterson nodded understandingly, worrying her bottom lip. "If you ever need help, come talk to any of us."

Hook, line, and sinker. Remi gave a tentative nod. Dotcom remained silent, obviously letting Patterson handle the emotional aspect of this. The elevator stopped on a floor, and the two fell into step ahead of Remi, leading the way to a lab she didn't remember. The door shut behind them. No one else was in the room, lit by an eerie blue glow. She tensed, feeling her short, straight hair brush her shoulders.

"Okay, so," Patterson began, glancing at Dotcom, "I - we - don't know how to break this to you, Jane, but we've already told Weller while you were out and obviously you should know since you're the one -" She cut herself off, taking in a breath as Dotcom raised an eyebrow at her rambling. Releasing the breath, she nodded, and let her palms rest on the screen covering the table in front of her.

"What she's trying to say, Jane, is that when Sandstorm flooded your body with ZIP before you were left naked in Times Square, there were side effects. They just didn't show until now," Dotcom said. Remi tilted her head slightly in response, wordlessly telling them to go on.

"The signs that you thought indicated you were pregnant actually were signs of ZIP poisoning," Patterson continued, stopping for a second to let that sink in. Remi almost blanched - pregnant? Again? She couldn't afford to be, after Avery - but relaxed slightly when she heard she wasn't. ZIP poisoning wasn't much better, but at least she didn't have a human growing inside of her. That would set her back quite a bit.

"ZIP poisoning?" Remi inquired, frowning.

"Roman was suffering from it too," Patterson added.

Wait, what?! Roman wasn't given any of the ZIP - and if he was, the FBI wouldn't know of it. Clearly, she was missing some very important information, but she filed it away to search for later.

Sensing her agitation, Dotcom plowed on, "ZIP poisoning can cause hallucinations, aneurysms, memory loss, memory relapse, all that jazz." He considered her seriously. It was unnerving to see that look from him. "And the progression isn't good. Long story short, Jane, you've got a slim chance of surviving."

Patterson took over again, "There's no cure, but Roman was searching for one. The drive that he gave you contains a portion of the tattoo database and some medical intel on ZIP poisoning. That means there's more of these drives out there, and if we can find all of them, we might be able to find the cure."

Remi nodded, her mouth dry. If she had a literal deadline, she'd have to move up her timeline. That was fine. The only problem was that the team seemed to know about Roman. Whatever she had done before, she must have needed to reveal his identity, or he needed to.

Something tugged at her as she stood there, under the dim blue lights, surrounded by screens, and pinned with gazes. It was that voice again, slightly stronger.

Remi, get out.

That voice must be a hallucination. It wasn't real, Remi told herself, but she responded anyway.

Make me.

A/N: Yes or no? Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to leave a review :)

~Wolf and Phoenix