A/N Missing Blindspot and so this is my first FanFic. Please review!
Jane Doe is not a real name. It is a label. It is a label given to people as a place holder when they do not have an identity of their own.
When I stop to think about it, it reinforces how I feel about myself a lot of the time, especially in the beginning: I don't exist. I'm not real. I don't matter to anyone. How could I disappear from a life and have no one miss me? Be looking for me?
I still don't understand how I came to be where I am. My first memory, waking up in a haze. Not feeling right. Blurry. Alone. Cold. Without anything. Even a name. So they labeled me Jane Doe.
Jane. What an innocuous label. Boring. Brings to mind images of plain Jane. Average. Simple. Ordinary. But as far as I can tell, I am anything but.
Covered in mysteries, ornate patterns, with hidden meanings literally embossed all over my skin. It is easier to identify the only plain skin on my body, than to identify where I am tattooed. No. Nothing Plain Jane about me.
Even when I wish to blend into the background, I can't. All these little mysteries on me standing out, everywhere. Conspicuous always when I don't want to be, which is always. Maybe I wish I really could be plain Jane. Some days.
But then what about me would make me...me? The ink is what defines me. The ink is presumably the reason I have no memory, no identity, no sense of what or who I was before all of this.
So what I am now is a collection of inked mysteries and they call me Jane Doe. The girl without a name. The only remarkable thing about me is the only thing that I am.
Jane Doe. The first time he called me Jane, it came as a surprise. It wasn't really my name after all. But what else would he call me? I have nothing else to go by, and somehow from calling me a Jane Doe, that is who I have become.
It is my name and is finally starting to mean something. Interesting how it all evolved. I is part of a team. I have friends now. I am a great shot. I fight - hard and well. I have a predisposition to help people. I speak four languages - that we know of. There are not a lot of people in my life, but somehow my heart is full. And so I started to feel like Jane. Not a person without a history or identity, but a woman named Jane.
Now, when I hear people say the name Jane, they are talking about me. A friend, a co-worker, even someone they might trust.
When Kurt says my name, it sound like something different than when anyone else says it. I hear the intensity behind the word - emotion and feeling. A tone I know he only uses with me. Not an anonymous mention of a label. My heart now skips a beat when I hear that voice say my name. It often makes me smile a little, when we are alone and I can almost hear a little smile in his voice as he says it.
And so the label I once heard and filled me with distain, I now hear and it fills me with warmth. Because somehow over the course of several months, that is who I have become - oddly whole for someone without a past, and sometimes even happy. Even if I don't know who I was before all of this, I know who I am now. I am Jane Doe and it means something.