A/N - I was so excited by Blindspot Wednesday that it inspired me to get this out quicker than I thought. My writing pace isn't exactly predictable but I have some clear ideas for the next few chapters at least, and I know how I want it to end. I also have the weekend off, so hopefully I can fire another chapter out soon.
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Chapter 3
Willing Sacrifice
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It was all a bit of a blur. Whenever she escaped to that place in her mind, people and surroundings were all at once sharp and vague. She remembered an FBI agent untying her hands and handing her back her jacket. In her mind, Kurt's face appeared in glorious technicolour, he had wrapped her so tenderly in a blanket — his eyes were so kind and the gruff timbre of his voice was soothing.
STUPID Jane! She gave herself a mental slap upside the head. Fantasizing only made everything harder on herself.
Jane tried to concentrate on her safe place in order to keep the pain at bay but it was difficult. The plane kept hitting turbulence; it made her mind jump and her muscles clench which sent electric darts of pain throughout her body.
The team was staring at her and she was determined not to look at them. Whatever they are talking about didn't concern her and never would. Jane gritted her teeth; she would get through this without them.
Her meditations began to work. Muscles began to relax as Jane's mind began to disengage from her surroundings. Her eyes remained open and distant but her hands loosened their death grip on the armrests. She didn't notice the concerned looks from the team or Weller slowly making his way over to the seat across from hers.
She didn't notice, that is, until he lifted his arm to hand her some ice packs. She couldn't help it, she flinched back and gasped in pain when her back and head hit the seat behind her. Her arms raised defensively and her eyes darted to his face. His face… did he look worried? Or hurt? She averted her eyes to the left; she didn't want to hope for more than she should expect.
"Thanks," she mumbled as she took the icepack and looked out the window to give him an easier exit.
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She almost thought she was hallucinating from the pain when she heard him settle more comfortably into the seat. He didn't leave. Why didn't he leave? He's barely tolerated her proximity for weeks, why stop now? Her stomach began to sink and she worked to keep her breathing even for the sake of her ribs. I don't know if I can cope with anything more right now.
"Jane," he leaned over to catch her attention, "We need to talk about what happened." His tone was professional but his hands were tense on the armrests.
"What do you need to know?" she took a bracing breath. He clearly just wanted to debrief; Weller was just doing due diligence as team leader. He probably had a stack of paperwork to sign off on and needed her to fill in what she had interpreted from the traffickers' conversations. "I can have a translated version of what I heard the Russians say on your desk by tomorrow…"
"NO! You need to rest…" He paused and waited until I met his piercing blue eyes, "Why did you catch the Russians' attention? Why did you want them to single you out?"
Jane cringed, she couldn't believe he was actually going to make her verbalize it. Surely he knew… surely they all knew why she had done it, it was painfully obvious. She shifted her gaze determinedly over his right shoulder - it was easier than looking to his eyes.
She schooled her features into a professional mask. Be calm, keep it short and factual.
"I was the logical candidate to be tortured. I was the best prepared to deal with anything they might do. I am the most expendable person on the team and I doubt anyone would feel too much concern for me." It was obvious. "Besides, you said we needed to stall them until help arrived… so I did."
He bit back a curse and was silent. His aggravated knuckle cracks flinched her back into the present. Jane's eyes unwittingly met Weller's - they were blazing blue. His brow was furrowed and jaw clenched tightly. He looked upset and she couldn't figure out why.
"Jane, you are not expendable and you should not have taken that risk - you could have gotten yourself killed"
She couldn't help it; her mouth twisted into a bitter smile, "Come on, that wouldn't be the worst thing. It would have been worse if someone else had gotten hurt when I could have taken the hit."
No one would miss her, she was working to destroy the last vestiges of her family and then she could stop forcing her presence where it wasn't wanted. Jane was surprised by Zapata's audible gasp and looked over to see Reade's ashen expression. Her head tilted sideways — curious reactions… she knew they abhorred her presence almost as much as Weller did.
She looked back at Weller, his face was red and his eyes were wide, shocked almost. She had made him mad... again. She should have just kept her mouth shut - her input just made everyone upset. Jane looked back out the window.
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"Jane, that's not right. You don't really think that do you? No one wants you to get hurt." His voice was rough.
"It's okay, I can take it"
She shrunk back as he grabbed her hand. "Jane, we couldn't help but notice that you are… thinner than… before. And there were bruises all over you…"
She stared down at their clasped hands. This was the first time he had voluntarily, purposefully touched her since… before… his hands were warm and rough. They were gentle, not like when he handcuffed her but like when he had held her face and kissed her… STOP. Don't go there. Don't remember what you can't have. He never wanted her, anyway, he wanted Taylor. Her mind itched for the release of pain and she quietly dug her elbows into her screaming ribs.
"Jane, do you need help?" he persisted.
"Don't worry about it, Weller, it hasn't altered my effectiveness in the field. I eat when I'm hungry and maybe I was too rough in my last sparring session. It's nothing." He didn't have to worry, the pain kept her focused anyway.
"I'm not worried about your work performance right now, Jane," his voice boomed, "I am concerned about you." His grip tightened painfully and she jerked her trembling hand away.
"Why?" she had just told him that it didn't affect work at all. Jane thought her efforts the past few weeks should speak for themselves.
"Why?" he sat back hard, stunned, "How can you… What do you…" He looked her up and down like he couldn't recognize her. Jane understood that look; she often saw it reflected back in the mirror each morning. She missed his hands - they were warm and she was so cold... so cold…
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"Jane!"
She snapped to attention. Ouch.
"We already told Patterson what happened. She's sent an ambulance to meet us at the hangar so that they assess you. I am going to make sure that they give you a full once over to make sure everything is okay."
"I'm fine. Really. I don't want an ambulance." Jane couldn't stop the shudder. She didn't want strangers touching her, Jane didn't think she could handle any more today.
"Jane. I don't care what you want, you were brutally beaten and you will be checked over. That is final." His eyes bored into her, demanding concession.
She nodded and looked away. It's his job to take of the people under his command. He was just doing his job. Just suck it up and then you can go home to your empty apartment and compartmentalize this day into a tiny box where you never have to think about it again. Shit, tonight's nightmares are going to be brutal.
Jane could still see Kurt in her peripheral vision; he hadn't moved and he was still staring. He wasn't blinking, its like he was trying to read her mind. What more could he want from her? Maybe he is felt some misplaced obligation to sit here because she had been injured... ?
Jane look at him warily before quietly whispering, "There's nothing more you can do… you don't have to sit with me. I know you would rather debrief with your team." she subtly jerked her chin towards Reade and Zapata and even offer a half smile so that he would leave her in peace.
But his reaction is strange. It was his turn to flinch and her turn to look confused. What had she done wrong this time? He slowly got up and left. His face, its…STOP. His face was none of her business.
She settled back and quietly find a safe place in her mind. Pain is a dream. The plane is a dream. The turbulence is a dream. The urgent and hushed whispers from across the plane are a dream. Kurt's hands are a dream too.
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A/N: Thankyou to the kind reviewer who pointed out my editing issues in the last chapter - I have hopefully fixed it. I am so embarrassed, it is painfully obvious that I took a mental break between writing the first and last half of that chapter whoops. Where is the editing fairy when you need her? Lol.
