A/N: Because your reviews made me so happy today and because I won't be able to post tomorrow, you'll get the next chapter today :)
Round of applaus for Lemonade652 for realizing I tend to put references of my older stories into my writings (and of stories I've been meaning to write for weeks) which is always really fun for me.

Also to that Guest review: I love your idea and I'd love to read something like that but as far as this story goes, I have it almost finished and sadly there's no room for it in here. The next two parts are going to be focussing a lot on Jeller :) Hope you still like what I wrote instead.

Enjoy x

5 p.m.

She had her eyes closed as she was laying on the couch, leaning her head against the backrest without moving. Her feet were resting on the coffee table and her hands were resting in her lap. Distantly she heard Kurt making noise in the kitchen, heard him open and close the tap and then some more clatter of dishes.

For the first time since she could remember it were just the two of them in their apartment, with Avery having gone back to her safe house for the evening and the other's having gone their respective ways, promising they would come back tomorrow to check in on her.

As much as she had loved having them around, especially having Avery around, she was grateful for the current quiet and she was still debating whether that made her an awful mother and horrible friend or if it was something everyone else experienced, too.

Muffled footsteps told her Kurt was coming back before she heard the sound of two glasses and a plate being put down on the table and felt the couch shift underneath her as he sat down next to her. He let out a sigh when he made himself comfortable in a similar position and the noise made her look up, blinking a few times until her tired eyes focused on him.

He had his eyes closed and was leaning back against the backrest much like she just had, his eyes closed and his arms crossed in front of his chest. For a moment she took the opportunity to simply watch him without him watching her back. His chest was rising up and down evenly with every breath he took and the worn loose t-shirt he had changed into was moving ever so slightly with every heartbeat.

Following a sudden impulse she reached out to put her hand over his heart tentatively, watching his eyes flutter open in surprise but instead of moving away like she had half-expected him to, he simply uncrossed his arms and put one hand over hers, lacing his fingers with hers but never moving them from his chest.

"Are you okay?", he asked softly, rubbing his thumb over her hand gently.

She nodded, concentrating on the beating of his heart beneath their joined hands before looking up at him, meeting his worried gaze with a smile. "I'm fine, just a little tired."

"Why don't you try to get some sleep?", he suggested but before the words had even left his mouth she was already shaking her head with a frown. "Why not?"

Biting her bottom lip she looked away for a moment – seeing the grapes he had so thoughtfully put on the table – before meeting his eyes again. "I think I'm scared it'll go away if I close my eyes for too long", she admitted, "And on top of that… I would just really like to enjoy this moment right now."

"Whatever you want", he told her with a smile, "But promise me that you are going to go to sleep at some point."

Jane laughed, the sound echoing through their home, "I promise."

She realized then that she was half lying and half sitting on the couch rather awkwardly now and it didn't take long for Kurt to catch her train of thoughts and he shifted again, making room for her to get comfortable next to him. Instead of just moving closer, she put her head on his chest, were their hands had just been, liking the way his arm immediately came around her, building her very own sanctuary.

"This is nice", she said, stifling a yawn and feeling his quiet laugh vibrating through his chest and she rolled her eyes, knowing he wouldn't even see it.

"Can you tell me our story?", she asked him, raising her head slightly to look into his eyes. "I mean", she tried to explain, "I know you've told me my story and I've heard our friends' stories but what is our story?" As if to make her point clear, she raised their still intertwined hands. "I have some fragments but I can't really make sense of them. Would you tell me?"

6 p.m.

She found herself in a hallway paved with polished black stone that reflected the sparse light of the flickering lamps on the ceiling. Raising her head, squinting against the brightness her eyes weren't used to, she tried to make out the sort of lamp. It seemed like as good a place to start as any but when she had made out the fluorescent tube, she realized that stopping the light from flickering wouldn't get her anywhere.

Instead she lowered her head again and looked around for the first time, slowly pivoting around herself, trying to find some indication as to where she was. The dark walls seemed to go on forever in both directions and – for a lack of a better alternative – she chose the direction she had been facing and took the first step.

Her legs felt like bricks, unwilling to move forward, but after the first five steps she felt the hardness from within them melt and started moving more quickly.

Every once in a while she would hear a whisper coming from the walls and every time she would whirl around, trying to apprehend whoever was behind her but every time the hallway behind her was empty, looking exactly as deserted as the one in front of her. She kept walking, though, her feet dragging her faster and faster forward the longer she went on until she found herself starting to run.

Her long unruly hair was flailing around her head, blocking her view and getting stuck in her mouth as she started panting harder the faster she ran. At some point she tried to stop but her feet that had slowed her down before, were now keeping her from coming to a stand.

She felt the panic rise in her chest and her stomach cramp with fear but instead of letting it take over, she tried to channel the energy into her muscles, willing them to go faster so she would get somewhere.

The doors appeared out of nowhere but once she laid eyes on them her body slowed down until she came to a halt ten feet away from them. Trying to regain some of her composure, she ran her hand through her long hair to get it out of her face, only to realize that instead of the long, straight hair that had given her so much grieve while running, she found short unruly locks and when she lowered her hand in confusion she saw the tattoos grazing her skin for the first time.

The honeycomb tattoo felt oddly familiar but she knew that if she were to pull up the sleeves of her sweatshirt, she would find her arms covered in more drawings.

Focusing back on the three doors, she walked over to the one on the far left – an old wooden door with rusty hinges that looked like it had seen better days – and closed her fingers around the handle. The second she touched it she heard a loud, blood-curling scream and before she could pull away she felt the door being opened, pulling her inside the room behind it.

Disoriented she tried to make out something, anything, in the dark chamber she had fallen into but it was darker than outside in the hallway and even when her eyes had adjusted, she could barely make out her own hand in front of them. Still she moved forward, clinging to the rough walls cautiously as she made her way towards the only light in the small room.

When she turned the corner to find the source of the light there wasn't another door like she had expected but a wide hall filled with dirty mattresses and emaciated children. Some were cuffed to the rare bedposts, pillars or simply to one another, their empty eyes following her every movement as she stepped inside. Her own eyes, however, were completely focused on one child at the end of the room who had his back turned to her.

Slowly she crossed the room, trying to ignore the stares of the other kids until she had reached him. Raising her head to reach out to him, she was startled when he turned around and she could see his face for the first time.

"Roman."

The name escaped her lips and she wanted to hold onto the boy with the gaping wound running from his forehead all the way down to his cheek but before she could touch him and before she could hear his reply, she felt herself being pulled backwards and no matter how much she fought it or how loud she screamed, the force threw her out of the room, closing the door behind her with a loud bang.

The second she regained control over her limbs she scrambled to her feet and tried the handle again, to no avail this time. The door wouldn't open again, wouldn't even let her move the handle.

Straightening back up, she took two hesitant steps towards the next door, hoping to find a way into the room she had just left.

This door, made from stainless steel, was much newer than the first one she had opened but more intimidating. Where the last door had looked like the legacy of a lost generation – a family home that had been abandoned and left to rot away for itself – this one was very clinical but the closer she got, the more she felt a overwhelming power radiate from it. A presence that she couldn't quite describe but that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a cold shudder run down her back.

Quickly her gaze flickered to the last door, the nicest looking one, and a part of her wanted to abandon the impersonal door in front of her and run to the one that felt so familiar, but she had to know what was behind it. She had to find that bleeding child again – it felt important.

Roman.

The name she had uttered when the boy had turned around kept circling through her mind as if looking for something – something that she should know, a counterpart, something that belonged with it. Squaring her shoulders she reached for the handle and as soon as her hand touched the cold metal, she knew what she had been looking for.

"Remi."

The voice was pervasive and so loud that she felt the baritone resonate in her own ribcage but she couldn't make out who it belonged to, though she had a feeling that she knew exactly who it was.

"Roman?", she called out, circling the round room carefully. There were at least twelve doors, all looking exactly the same and they all felt frighteningly empty. "Where am I?", she wanted to know but all she got in return was a cold laugh.

If he was the child with the bleeding face, maybe he was taking revenge on her. Had she hurt him? She couldn't remember it but it didn't feel right. When she tried to pull his face up in her mind, he was smiling up at her and reaching for her with his small hands.

The longer she stood there the colder she felt, as if the room was eating up her soul and draining all the warmth from her.

Turning around she tried to pinpoint the door she had entered through but it had gone back to looking exactly like all the other doors and – turning around once more – she felt herself starting to panic. Her breathing started going faster and her movements grew erratic as she tried to pull at some of the door handles.

"Please, help me", she tried again to get a response, hearing the pleading in her own voice.

"You're weak", the voice sounded again and this time it was accompanied by a person. A tall figure with sandy hair, dressed in all black with his hands in the pocket of his jeans, was walking towards her as if he had no care in the world.

"Roman", she whispered, moving towards him and stopping only short of where he now stood. The scar was still visible on his face but his eyes were as cold as the ones of the other children – nothing there telling of the love and warmth she remembered seeing in them once upon a time. Maybe this room was sucking the warmth from him, too. Maybe she needed to get him out of here… maybe that was why she had been sent here.

"We need to get out of here", she told him urgently, trying to reach out to him only to grasp into thin air because suddenly he was standing behind her.

"No", he denied, almost sadly, "I can't leave this place." His eyes found hers, a dark spark in them, when he shot her a false smile. "And I won't let you, either."

She shook her head, trying to get as far away from him as possible, but the room seemed to be getting smaller and smaller the harder she tried to pull away and he was only a few feet away from her when he pulled his hands from his pockets.

They were holding on to a knife and she saw her own frightened face reflected in the blade just before he made his move.

"No!", she screamed, jumping to the side to avoid being hit. Twisting around she grabbed his hand that was holding the knife and pinned it behind him. But she had a weak angle and before she could steady her footing he had pushed her away and raised the knife again, regarding her with an unreadable expression.

"This is where you belong", he told her, "You belong with me. I'm not letting you leave again."

With that he threw himself at her once more and she couldn't move fast enough to get away completely, she could only deflect the blade so it cut her upper arm instead of hitting her stomach.

"Why would you do that?", she wanted to know through gritted teeth, pushing him away with all her might. "Come out with me. It's this room, it's making us think horrible things."

He only growled from the depth of his throat as they wrestled on the floor until she was finally able to overbear him, clutching the knife she had taken from him to her chest breathlessly.

"Then kill me!", he suddenly screamed, tears running down his face, "End me now!"

"No!", she cried out, letting the knife fall to the floor as her own tears clouded her sight. "It doesn't have to end like this."

"Yes, it does."

Just like that, the person in front of her that she knew in her heart she loved so much, lost all resemblance to the young boy she remembered and he bared his teeth like a feral animal, growling as he grew taller and taller in front of her eyes.

She did the only thing she could think of and bolted for the door furthest away from him, grateful when it opened up and let her back into the endless hallway she had come from. Without pausing – she could still feel his hot breath on her neck – she ran towards the last door, pulling it open as fast as she could and letting it fall close behind her.

Sinking back against the solid wood she shut her eyes tightly to help her regain her bearings and when she opened them back up she could see she had landed in a family home. A familiar family home.

Two people were currently facing away from her, laughing about something quietly and it warmed her heart when the dark-haired teenage girl reached out to hug the man. Over the girl's back she met the man's blue eyes and they twinkled when they recognized her.

"We were worried you wouldn't come", he told her with a smile, pulling back from the girl ever so gently. "Avery decided to take care of dinner today. Why don't you come closer?"

She wanted to.

She wanted nothing more than to go over to them and hug them and share a laugh with them.

But when she made the first move, she saw a shadow slipping from the wall, following her close on her heels. When she stopped dead in her tracks, so did the shadowy figure, but when she moved forward again, it followed again – growing bigger and bigger the closer she got to the man and girl who were completely oblivious to the impending danger.

"No", she whispered desperately, trying to move further away from them to get the shadow to stop moving closer but she had lost all control over it and instead of sticking to her movements, it moved along the walls by itself, getting closer and closer to them until it morphed back into Roman, a big cold grin on his face as he pulled his knife.

"KURT! NO!"

Her scream woke her up and her lungs felt like she had just run a marathon, bursting with the lack of oxygen. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like there was a huge brick sitting right on her ribcage, hindering her from pushing oxygen into her lungs.

"Jane!"

She twisted her body around so fast that she had almost fallen off the couch hadn't Kurt caught her around the waist and pulled her back into him. Her eyes darted through the apartment – the very normal, very peaceful looking apartment – until they settled on him and when she met his worried eyes she was finally able to breathe again. Or so she thought, until the first sob escaped her lips and the next one soon followed until she completely succumbed to them, letting all of her fear and pain out.

"Shh", she felt him more than saw him through the veil of tears and let him place her hand on his reassuringly steady beating heart until she managed to match her breath to his.

"I-I'm sorry", she managed to croak out after a while, "I-"

"It's okay, it was a bad dream but you're fine", he tried to reassure her but she shook her head, sitting up on the couch.

"You were… Roman was trying to kill you and Avery. And I brought him into our home… he must've followed me from that other room and when I wanted to come to you, he- he…" The words got stuck in her throat again and instead of explaining she let him pull her halfway onto his lap and curled up into his chest.

"I'm okay, I'm right here, we're safe."

She let his soothing voice calm her down once more but before she could let him lull her back to sleep, she tried to move out of his embrace. "I can't… I don't want to sleep… I'm…"

"Jane. Hey, look at me."

After a moment she did as she was told and met his worried, loving gaze once more, "Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. If you don't want to sleep then you don't have to but I'll stay right here with you. I'm not going anywhere."

Against her better judgment she felt herself nod and her eyes grow heavy again but she was fighting them as hard as she could, still scared of the last thing her dreams had brought her.

Until she felt the low rumble of his chest against her ear as he started to hum a song that sounded familiar to her and just like that, she felt the fear leave her body bit by bit and the longer he kept humming the song, the more peacefully she settled into his embrace until she fell into a more peaceful slumber.

7 p.m.

When Jane woke up again, it took her minute to realize why.

She wasn't curled up around Kurt anymore. The thought of how she had fallen asleep made a blush creep into her cheeks but she shook her head in an attempt to wipe away the now familiar giddiness she felt whenever he was concerned. That was when she noticed another presence in the room.

Looking up in alarm, her eyes landed on Tasha who was standing several feet away from the couch clutching a small parcel to her chest, meeting her eyes with her very own wide-eyed stare. Jane relaxed slightly when the Latina finally let out the breath she had been holding with an awkward chuckle.

"I'm sorry I woke you", she whispered, before rubbing her arm self-consciously, "Uh- I guess I don't have to whisper anymore", she noted.

"It's okay", Jane reassured her, sitting up completely now. She scooted over to the other side of the couch – taking the wonderfully soft blanket Kurt must've tugged her into earlier with her – and patted the spot next to her with a small smile.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Tasha closed the remaining distance and plopped down next to her. She was still holding on to the small package and when she saw Jane eyeing it curiously, she held out her hand until her friend reached for it hesitantly.

"What's this?", Jane asked weighing the parcel in her hands.

"Uh-", again Tasha seemed to be at a loss for words – still unsure how she should address Jane, "It's just a little something I came across when I went for a walk. It's from a Latin-American bakery a couple of blocks from my home. My abuela always said they can cure anything, especially a broken heart", she laughed quietly, watching Jane unwrap the sweets, "Of course she also says that about every other food, too. But uh- yeah, you like them a lot and so I thought I could bring some over. Kurt said-"

"Where is Kurt?", Jane interrupted her, looking up from the small globes she had unraveled, just now noticing that he was nowhere to be seen or heard.

"He went out to get dinner when I got here. He didn't want you to wake up on your own and so he asked me to stay. I hope that's okay with you?", she asked in an uncertain voice, "Now that you're awake I could probably leave and-"

"No", Jane stopped her, pointing to the sweets in her lap, "You still haven't told me what these are and you have to at least eat one of them with me. Besides", she grinned, "Somehow I get the feeling Kurt wouldn't be very happy if I was home alone when the doctor explicitly told him I need to be in company for the next twenty-four hours."

Shooting her a lopsided grin of her own, Tasha started to relax back into the couch again. "You might be right about that. You've told me about his overbearing ways before but I've never seen them this pronounced when we were around until now."

They shared a laugh, falling into a comfortable silence for a bit, each woman hanging onto their own thoughts, both not entirely certain how to talk to each other. But by now Jane was used to that feeling and was the first to overcome her shyness.

"Are we good friends?", she asked the Latina.

A little startled Tasha looked at her and shrugged. "We're all friends and we usually go out in a group or when we're having a girl's night out it's the three of us, with Avery tagging along every once in a while now.."

"But?", Jane inquired when the other woman let the sentence hang in the air and didn't make any attempts to finish the thought that Jane was sure was on her mind.

Tasha smiled, "You've always been too good at reading people", she told her lightly before growing serious once more, "I've … No, I think it started sooner than that. We've been friends for some time but when you and Kurt were … going through that rough patch about Avery and Clem…", she trailed of, searching Jane's eyes to see if she should stop talking but whatever she found there, made her next words sound more certain.

"You were staying at some hotel for a week or so and I've tried to get you to ditch that hotel room and stay over at my place instead for days. I think I was a little worried you would run away again", she admitted, "And I wanted to show you that whatever happens we'll… I'll always be there for you. Anyway, I got you to come over at some point and we had a few drinks and talked and I guess ever since then we've been talking more to each other. And then I did something and while everyone else was shutting me out, you reached out to me and made me stay in your guestroom because I think you were worried for me… I'm really grateful for that."

Blinking away the tears that had started forming in her eyes – and when that wouldn't do the trick, wiping them away with the ball of her hand – Jane smiled at Tasha apologetically. "I'm sorry.. I don't know what came over me. It's just… I think I remember a little bit of that… And I know that I was pretty grateful, too. Thank you for being my friend."

"Nonono", Tasha shook her head and Jane laughed when she met her now equally glassy eyes. "Don't make me cry, woman", the Latina muttered in frustration, "I don't cry… never."

The persistence in her friend's voice made Jane only laugh harder and at some point Tasha joined in, not caring about the single teardrop that made its way down her cheek.

When they stopped laughing, they were both holding their bellies and lay sprawled out on the couch breathlessly.

"You still haven't told me what these things are that cure broken hearts", Jane grinned up at Tasha, pointing to the mess she had made.

Tasha looked over and upon seeing Jane's endearing innocent expression and the coconut graters spread all over her favorite green blanket, she started laughing again.

"They're called Cocadas."

8 p.m.

"Don't answer that", she told him firmly, staring at the lit up screen of his phone he was holding in his hand.

"If this is Roman – which we don't even know for sure – then it could be important", he argued, "we don't know what he wants!"

"We know exactly what he wants!", Jane gave back fiercely, stepping closer to him. "He wants us to be as miserable as he is. He wants to hurt us… hurt you! I won't let him!"

She was glaring at him from still a few feet away, glad when he seemed to at least be listening to her without making a move to answer the unknown number that had been calling his phone for the last minute or so. They were both fairly certain who was trying to call him but, unlike him, she was dead against continuing playing her brother's games.

In their heated conversation she had started pacing through the living room and they had ended up on opposite sides of the room.

"Trust me, I don't want to take this call any more than you do", Kurt tried reasoning again, approaching her slowly, "But we don't know what he's going to do if we don't play along."

"How much worse than sending hitmen to kill us, our friends and possibly Avery, can it be?", she wanted to know in exasperation, the fight draining out of her when the phone stopped ringing. "I can't believe this is my brother we're talking about", she admitted quietly, "I used to know him so well and now… I don't understand what happened. I mean I do … but I don't and that scares me because we've come from the same place. If he's capable of doing something like that who's to say…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the question, the half- finished sentence looming over them.

Kurt took the last few steps until he was standing right in front of her, his phone still in his hand while the other reached out to cup her cheek, tipping her chin up so she would meet his eyes.

"We don't know what's going on inside his head. He thought that you choosing to work with us would automatically make you work against him", he told her seriously, "Now, don't look at me like that, I'm not trying to defend him! But when he made that choice he also felt betrayed because you lied to him and he acted impulsively. I've made that mistake", he admitted, reminding her of what he had told her earlier. He hated it but he hated how doubtful she was of her own goodness more.

She shook her head adamantly but he shot her a sad smile and nodded in disagreement. "I might not have ordered assassins to kill you but I did turn my back on you and you suffered the consequences of my impulsive behavior."

"It's not the same thing", she denied, pulling her face away from his gentle touch but instead grabbing his hand with hers, tracing the wedding band on his finger carefully. "He tried to hurt the people he knows I love. He lied to us, used us, made you think you killed my daughter and then he tried to kill you. I can't let him get away with that… I can't let him hurt you."

"You're not", he said, turning his hand in hers to lace his fingers through hers, "What Roman does is only up to Roman. Besides it's not your sole job to take care of me… We take care of each other, we always have." Raising their intertwined hands to his lips he pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. "But I need you to acknowledge that he's still your brother and just a few hours ago you couldn't remember any of us… only him. That has to change the way you see him and that's okay. He's your family and I know how fiercely you love and protect your family."

Jane stayed quiet for a while, simply watching him as he watched her, before she spoke again. "I might not remember much but I remember enough to know that you are my family now. He's proven that he's too far gone when he tried to kill us again and I can't…", she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I don't want to love someone like that. What kind of person loves someone like that?"

"Someone with a heart as big as yours", he told her seriously, "And that is exactly what I love about you so much. You never gave up on me, no matter how many reasons I gave you to do just that."

"You're telling me I should just go up and forgive him?", she retorted, with a raised eyebrow, clearly questioning his judgement, "Because Avery told me the exact opposite earlier today."

Shaking his head he pulled her just a little bit closer. "I'm telling you to trust yourself to not turn out like him just because the two of you have had the same upbringing. You're Jane and your choices every day are what makes you you. Roman is a different person, choosing differently, but those are his choices and they don't change the person you are."

"Thank you", she whispered and, following a sudden urge, leaned into him, pressing her face into his chest, enjoying the way his arms came around her waist to hold on to her. "But I still don't think we should continue playing his games by returning his phone calls whenever he pleases. I don't like him calling the shots. We need to find a way to lure him out of the shadows he's hiding in, like when we called him on Blake's phone."

"We'll find a way", he replied with a small smile, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "But not tonight. For now you need to rest and let me take care of you. How's your headache faring?"

A/N 2: btw, if anyone feels like writing a sequence of Weller telling Jane about their story I encourage you to do that, I'd love to read it but I didn't have the muse to write it!