Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)
A/N: Thank you for sticking with this story so far. I know that the ends of the chapters are a little painful, but if you know my writing, you know the story itself won't end that way. It's building toward something, I promise. Also, I added in a new component at the end starting with this chapter, so maybe that will ease the heartache just a little. In any case, I hope you enjoy this.
He'd told her that where they were going was a surprise, and after that he had refused to tell her anything. She sat beside him in the car, watching him grin like a little boy, and she wanted to be frustrated, because she was dying to know what the big secret was… except that he looked so damn cute… sohappy with himself, and even happier when he turned to look at her. No, she couldn't help but smile at him.
They'd been driving for a little while, and it appeared that they were heading to Long Island. If she didn't know better, she'd say that they were going to the beach… But surely that didn't make sense, not at this time of year. After all, while it wasn't freezing cold today, it certainly wasn't beach weather. Besides, neither of them were dressed for the beach even if it had been the right weather... So she remained confused until the minute he pulled into a deserted public parking lot that was indeed designated as beach parking according to the sign.
Looking at him in confusion, she couldn't stand it anymore. "What are we doing here?" she asked, completely baffled.
His grin grew wider, and he appeared beyond pleased that he'd been able to surprise her. "You'll see, in just a minute," he told her. "Come on, we're here."
Shaking her head at him once more, she climbed out of the car slowly, walking around to meet him by the trunk. The sky was a perfect blue, she noticed, looking up. Not a single cloud was in sight. Too bad the temperature was only about half what it needed to be to be beach weather, or this could have been perfect.
But you're here, she reminded herself. So clearly there's a reason.
She was brought back to the present by the slam of the trunk in front of her, and she watched as he picked up a backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Once again he grinned at her excitedly, this time stepping close to her – now that the console in the middle of the car was no longer between them, there was nothing stopping him. Threading his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer, her face automatically tilting up towards his and bringing their faces into alignment. When he stopped just before their noses touched, she couldn't help smiling at him – not that she was trying to avoid it.
"You're really not going to tell me what we're doing here?" she asked, just as the wind began whipping her hair around her face. They both smiled at her mock frustration, their proximity, and at her attempts to pull her hair away from her face so that she could actually look at him.
"I'll do better that telling you. I'm going to show you," he told her. "Besides, don't you trust me by now?" he added, pretending to be hurt.
Making a face at his low blow, even though they both knew that he was completely kidding, she pretended to pout for about three seconds, as he just grinned at her. Then, instead of answering, she leaned forward and kissed him, surrendering her tenuous grasp of her short hair, which immediately resumed blowing around her face, the ends also pelting against his skin now that he was closer. It was a strange feeling, tickling their faces, and it made both of them laugh as their lips remained locked together. As strange as it was, it didn't stop them from finishing their kiss, however. They finally gave in and withdrew to look at each other the best they could through Jane's messy locks only after several more minutes. As it tended to be between them, the closer they got to one another, the stronger the pull between them, much like some sort of supercharged magnetic force.
They paused only inches from each other's faces, grinning, as she attempted to memorize this moment. There was something absolutely perfect, too perfect, even, about how such a normal, everyday scene could feel so special… she couldn't have described what she liked so much about it properly if she'd tried. Maybe it was just the fact that after everything she'd been through to get here, she tried to appreciate every moment, every small detail – and especially every detail that had to do with Kurt. After all, happiness was a new concept for her, one that she still wasn't used to, and she found that she was quickly becoming addicted to it... Again, thanks to him. While he might disagree, in her head there was no question that he had made it all possible.
"Are you ready for your surprise now?" he asked her softly. They still hadn't moved away from each other and were still standing beside the car. She'd just realized that one major advantage of this deserted beach was that there wasn't a single other person around to interrupt them, something that had seemed to happen constantly as they'd been trying to figure out what was happening between them – for almost as long as they'd known each other, really.
"Almost," she told him, leaning forward quickly to kiss him once again. He must have realized what she was doing at the last second before their lips made contact, because though her eyes were already closed, she felt him smile at her as their lips locked together. Her hands rested on the middle of his back, pulling him closer, and this kiss moved a little slower, lasted a little longer. When she finally stopped for air, she leaned down and pressed her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart hammering loudly and feeling him chuckle slightly, kissing the top of her head.
"Sorry, I got distracted," she mumbled, but her words didn't reach his ears, the wind still blowing hard around them.
"I didn't catch that, Jane," he said near the side her head, several inches above her ear. "It's a little windy up here." She chuckled now, feeling very nicely protected by the fact that he was blocking the wind for her, his arms now wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Lifting her head so that she could look back up at him, she felt his arms loosen only just enough for her to move.
"I said, Sorry, I got distracted… from the surprise," she told him with a grin, arching her eyebrows playfully at him.
"I suppose I can forgive you, though I get the feeling that you're not actually sorry…" he replied with a grin – the same one that she was slowly beginning to see more and more from him. "Now come with me." He let his right arm drop from her shoulders so that they could turn and walk toward the beach, still holding onto each other tightly, his left around her shoulders and her right arm around his waist. She had to remind herself that she was being greedy when inside, she protested the fact that she could only have one arm around him and not both.
Easy, she told herself, laughing at her own frustration. If it was possible to get enough of this, of him, she wasn't anywhere near this point. Her head was buzzing with giddiness as they walked toward the beach.
When they reached the sand at edge of the parking lot, the difference was immediately apparent. "Normally I'd say it's easier to take off your shoes and socks here," he told her, still holding onto her tightly around her shoulders. "But considering the temperature, that might be a little cold."
"Won't we end up with sand in our shoes?" she asked curiously.
"Maybe," he replied, "but the sand's pretty cold for walking on right now. And besides, we can always dump the sand out of our shoes… but it's up to you. Do whatever you want."
"Well," she replied thoughtfully, "I'll keep them on for now and see how it goes." He nodded, starting forward slowly as she imitated the exaggerated steps he was taking to get through the softest of the sand. "Besides," she added, her eyes still focused on the sand in front of her feet, "I wouldn't want to get cold feet if I don't have to." Grinning at her own joke, she glanced up at him, biting her lip and waiting for his reaction. He just beamed back at her, shaking his head and then kissing her temple, all as they continued to walk forward onto the beach.
"Very clever," he told her, his eyes dancing in amusement. "I wouldn't want you to get cold feet either. Not now…" He looked at her intently, as if he was trying very hard to tell her something. This only made her grin harder, and she looked back down at the sand awkwardly, pretending that she was just trying to walk without ending up with the whole beach inside her shoes – though she was doing that, it wasn't the whole reason she'd looked away, of course. It didn't seem possible for anything to ruin this moment for her. Very simply, she felt herself overflowing with happiness.
As they came to the more tightly packed sand in the middle of the beach, she noticed that walking became easier. "So are you ready for your surprise?" he asked her.
"You mean, there's more? Besides being here with you?" she asked, still grinning. She knew it was cheesy, but she couldn't resist. And besides, it was absolutely the truth. While she never would have thought that she'd enjoy the beach in this weather, she'd just learned something – that it was equally beautiful just then, just in a different way. It wasn't hard to see the parallels from that, but instead of focusing on them, she simply turned towards him, looking into his eyes again. It was so easy to get lost in them…
Once again he was smiling at her, and she had to remind herself to focus, lest she miss what he was saying. He was looking at her tenderly now, his right hand coming up to her cheek, and the backs of his fingertips trailing along it before his hand came to rest on her shoulder, squeezing gently.
"Yes, Jane, there's more," he told her, just loudly enough for her to hear over the wind. She assumed that he was as mesmerized by the moment as she was, because he stared at her for more than a few seconds then, appearing to forget that he'd asked if she was ready for her surprise.
Grinning at how adorable the entire thing was, she glanced out at the waves for the first time. This small break in their eye contact seemed to be all he needed to bring him back to the present, because she felt him shift, his arms falling from around her as he set down the backpack with a chuckle at himself. Unzipping it, he pulled out a large towel made up of tiny flecks of blue and green, and stepped back slightly in an attempt to spread it out on the sand. The wind, however, had other ideas, and the towel began flapping wildly. Laughing and grabbing the other two corners, Jane helped him get it on the ground, then anchored the sides – first by sitting on it themselves, adding the backpack Kurt had been carrying to the end that was being lifted by the wind, as well as several containers that Kurt removed from inside the bag as well.
"This is some serious wind," Jane commented, feeling a little colder than she'd anticipated, as she looked out at the water, and then back at Kurt. They had ended up sitting a little farther apart than she would have preferred when they'd flopped down quickly on the towel to keep it from blowing away. She shivered, pulling her arms tightly across her chest and thinking that she should have brought something warmer to wear.
"Well, I see that as a good thing," he told her, pulling a blue blanket out of his backpack. She'd seen it before, she realized… a long time ago, and she couldn't help but smile at the memory. Then without a word, he moved over on the towel, scooting towards her until their shoulders were touching, then wrapped the blanket around the two of them, pulling her close. "It gives me an excuse to do this," he added.
"I see what you mean," she replied, nodding her head as she turned slowly to smile at him. "Not that you needed an excuse, of course." She couldn't get over how he really did seem to think of everything. She felt warmed inside and out, both by his physical proximity, and by his thoughtfulness. "Just when I didn't think this could get any more perfect," she said, soaking in the moment happily. She leaned down and slightly to the side, so that her forehead was tucked against his neck, then craned her head a little further back so that she could kiss his neck instead, feeling him simultaneously pulling her even closer, his arms and the blanket tightening around her. They were about to lose their balance, she was fairly certain, but at that moment she didn't care.
Sure enough, only a few seconds later, they had toppled over, still wrapped up together, his arms around her, still holding the blanket around her tightly as well. They were both laughing, her head now back against the sand and his face much closer to hers than it had been a few seconds before… so close, she noticed as their laughter died away and they stared into each other's eyes, smiling happily.
For a second she thought that he was going to suggest that they sit up, and she realized that she didn't want to. They were lying half on the towel and half in the sand on a deserted beach in the middle of winter, their limbs wrapped around each other and a blanket around them for good measure… no, there didn't seem to be a good reason for them to sit up, so when he didn't suggest that they should, she was relieved.
But now that they were lying here like this… She felt herself blushing, slowly growing warmer and warmer, the chill of the wind now a distant memory.
She was certainly surprised at the position in which they'd ended up, but she couldn't say she didn't like it. While she may have been too self-conscious to get herself tangled up with him this way on a beach, deserted or not, on purpose, now that they were there… The feeling in the pit of her stomach was a combination of excitement and nerves as she let herself think about the fact that she was lying here with him, slightly on her side, not quite on her back, with him basically wrapped around her and almost but not quite leaning directly over her, one hand now braced in the sand just beside her face… Catching her breath from the tumble into the sand, she looked up at him slowly, unsure what to expect.
Of course, she realized when their eyes met that she'd had no reason to feel self-conscious, or worried, or anything else besides pure happiness. The look in his eyes as he looked back at her was one so reverent that she felt her eyes grow misty before she'd even identified how she felt – she had never been looked at with so much love, and for a second, it took her breath away. It was impossible, after all, that he loved her that much – that anyone could love her that much. Her? Jane? The architect of so much destruction? Except that no, it wasn't impossible. It wasn't just possible, it was happening. She didn't need any more evidence than to look into his eyes to see it.
Just as he always did, he seemed to read the emotion in her eyes, and his expression changed to concern. "You okay?" he asked in a whisper, even though there was no one else as far as either of them could see. It wasn't necessary to whisper, it was simply more intimate that way.
Just like that, her voice was gone and all she could do was nod at him, not breaking eye contact. A wave of overpowering emotion was dangerously close to the surface, and she wasn't convinced that she wasn't about to cry from the intensity between them just then. There was absolutely nothing wrong – on the contrary, everything was right – so why did she feel this way? She didn't understand…
Smiling at her knowingly, he simply leaned forward and kissed her. This time it was even slower than the previous one, almost as if he was moving in slow motion. Jane was surprised when her mind exploded in a burst of full color. There was nothing to compare this to, nothing in her life or her experience that had prepared her for something so intense, and she had to remind herself to breathe.
All too soon, he leaned back, lifting himself up so that his face was once again a few inches above hers, looking down with tenderness and still, a touch of concern. His left arm, the one that braced himself up against the sand, rested a few inches from her face, and his left hand lay just beside her head, close enough that his thumb could stroke her temple.
"Come back here," she told him, bringing her hands up to his cheeks and then tugging him back down towards her, watching his smile grow immediately.
"For you? Always," he whispered, moving back towards her to kiss her once again.
While they didn't end up removing any clothing, they were quite glad for the privacy that the empty beach had afforded them. It was a long while later when they were finally sitting up once again, Kurt's arm around Jane tightly and the blanket still wrapped around them. Her now sandy head was firmly squeezed against his shoulder with no intention of moving anytime soon.
This, she was sure, is paradise.
"Oh, I almost forgot," he began with a grin. "Are you hungry?"
She picked up her head and looked at him in surprise. "You brought food, too?" she asked, glancing down at the containers that she had completely forgotten that she'd seem when they'd been trying to weigh down the towel when they'd arrived.
Nodding, he replied, "Of course. The idea was that it was a picnic."
She looked at him thoughtfully for a minute before replying. "Well, I have to tell you that this has already been better than any picnic I've ever been to." Arching her eyebrows suggestively, she couldn't help but grin.
"You've been to a few picnics, then?" he replied, trying to keep a straight face.
"Well… at least one," she said, rolling her eyes. They'd had a picnic in Central park a long time ago, sitting on the same blanket that was now pulled tightly around them.
"And this one's better?" he asked, feigning innocent curiosity.
"I mean, that one was a lot of fun," she began carefully. "I just didn't know…" Pausing to find the right words, she looked at him and smiled, tilting her face slightly to one side. "I guess I never thought anything this good could happen to me," she said, her face now suddenly serious.
"Are we still talking about the picnic?" he asked curiously, his voice softer and less playful than it had been a minute before.
"Among other things," she replied, smiling slightly once again. Then, with a devilish grin, she added, "I mean, I haven't had any of the food yet, so I guess it could still go either way…"
His jaw dropped open in mock indignation, and he pretended to be offended. "You doubt my skills?" he asked, doing a better job of keeping a straight face than she did. While they could keep up a steady stream of teasing banter, this more playful behavior was so very out of character for him, and she sometimes wondered where in the world it came from.
Suddenly feeling the need to face him, she shifted, turning around and pulling herself up onto her knees, moving around to the front of him as he obligingly uncrossed his legs so that she could scoot as far forward as possible and kneel directly in front of him, her hands now on his shoulders. Adjusting her position so that she was on the same eye level he was, she looked directly into his eyes and stopped, suddenly mesmerized, and almost forgetting what she'd wanted to say.
Finally coming out of her trance, she replied quietly, "There isn't a single thing about you that I doubt." She didn't break eye contact, but instead continued to hold it intensely. Feeling his arms tighten around her waist, she leaned herself forward, and in seconds they were once again lying half on and half off of the towel. This time it was Kurt who had the back of his head in the sand, Jane lying squarely on top of him.
Blushing slightly, her smile now went from serious to embarrassed. "Anything else you'd like to say?" he asked in amusement. He chuckled then, and she joined him, unable to keep a straight face. He was simply too much.
"I love you," she said without thinking, the words simply tumbling out.
Looking up at her in surprise, a grin spread across his face. "I love you, too," he whispered, pushing messy strands of windblown hair behind her ears, but to no avail, thanks to the fact that she was leaning over him and gravity and the wind were working against them.
She had almost lowered her face down to his when he asked, "Does this mean you're not hungry?" to which she had to stop and laugh.
"We'll eat later," she promised, her lips only a fraction of an inch away from his, "right now we're busy kissing."
"I can live with that," he replied, even as the kissing in question had already started, which only made her smile even more.
This man.
This. Man.
He was just…
Gone.
Her eyes popped open then, without warning, and once again she was back in her bedroom, lying on her back and staring up at the white ceiling. Her heart ached, maybe more than ever before, and she couldn't help but wonder if these dreams were ever going to stop.
Please, make them stop, she whispered softly, out loud to no one in particular, as she suddenly felt tears leaking from her eyes. She continued to stare at the ceiling, willing herself to get a grip, and push the dream away, to forget... but she found that she could do none of these things. Not this time. Instead, she remained firmly in its clutches. Closing her eyes against the images did no good, of course, since they were inside her head. On the contrary, it only made them stronger and more vivid.
Finally, with great effort and the knowledge that she had no other choice, she forced herself to sit up on the edge of the bed, to stand up and put one foot in front of the other. To turn off her alarm, still hours from going off, to take a shower and get dressed, to go downstairs and make coffee. It was perhaps the only consumable product in her safe house, since she didn't really usually bother with food. Most of the time she wasn't hungry anyway, and she'd have something at work at one point or another. It wasn't healthy, she knew, but she didn't care. She consumed enough to keep going, to stay strong enough to fight Sandstorm. That was what they needed her for, anyway. Beyond that, she didn't matter to them, so she had a hard time feeling like she mattered at all. Not beyond her one objective.
You don't really believe that, the voice in her head said incredulously.
Why wouldn't I? she replied. It's the truth.
Is it? the voice countered, but left it there. For once, the voice didn't argue.
Yes, that was the truth. There was no doubt in her mind.
That is, until later that day. She'd come back to the FBI after failing Shepherd's loyalty test, and Kurt had met her at the elevator door, asking her in a whisper if she was alright. She was surprised and confused, because if she didn't know better, she would have thought that he'd looked… worried.
Minutes later, as she'd told them what had happened with Jeffrey Kantor, Nas and Kurt had listened, staring at her intensely. Nas' face had been her regular, impossibly stone faced stare, until she'd surprised the other two by telling Jane that she should have shot Jeffrey Kantor – for the good of the mission.
Kurt was visibly surprised, and had finally recovered his voice as Nas rallied on and on. "She is not a killer," he insisted. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did, and maybe she shouldn't have allowed his statement to give her so much hope… but she couldn't help it.
When Patterson came in to announce that they knew where the next bomb was going to go off, Kurt and Nas began arguing about whether Jane was in a mindset to be able to go into the field – right in front of her, once again.
"She's not fit to be out in the field right now," he spat. He clearly expected the matter to be closed.
Is he… concerned? Jane wondered for a second. No, he's just worried that I'll be a liability to the mission, she realized. That made a lot more sense, after all.
"She can't just sit one out! Things have to appear business as usual." Nas, ever the voice of reason, had made an excellent point. No matter whether she was fit for duty or not, if they didn't want to arouse Sandstorm's suspicion, she didn't have a choice but to go out with the team. Not that she had any objection. It was Kurt who would have to get past the issue and his objections, valid as they might be.
Standing and listened to them disagree about whether to send her with the team felt surreal. They were deciding her fate as though she wasn't even there, arguing about her as if she was an expensive piece of machinery – or at least that was how it felt. She supposed that in a lot of ways, to them, she wasn't there. She was a tool, a thing, a weapon that they would decide how to best use to their advantage. And yet, Kurt had just come down squarely on her side a few seconds before. Actually, ever since she'd stepped out of the elevator, she'd felt something different about the way he was looking at her.
Whatever he was thinking, if there was one thing she hated, it was being perceived as weak. "I can do this," Jane interjected, adding, "Kurt, I'm fine."
He seemed to consider this for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. When he had said that she wasn't fit to be in the field, she had cringed.
Does he really think I'm not capable? she wondered.
Or, he could be worried about you, the voice in her head suggested.
Kurt? Worried about me? she replied silently. Why would he bother worrying about me, after everything I've done?
Before the voice in her head could come up with an answer, Kurt had apparently decided that their need for her in the field outweighed whatever his real objection to her coming along might be.
"Let's move," he said curtly.
See? Jane told her subconscious. I'm a means to an end.
Despite a change in his demeanor towards her, and the way he'd stood up to Nas, she still truly believed that that was all she was. It would have been ridiculous to think otherwise, after all. Still, there had been a tiny spark of something in his eye, and between that and the voice in her head, she couldn't help but wonder.
Was there anything else left to her, besides being a tool they would use to defeat Sandstorm? Clearly, she would never be as important to him as she had once been, when she had "been" Taylor, but… in the back of her mind, hope remained. Hope and doubt, sitting hand in hand and waiting to see how everything played out.
Maybe, that spark of hope told her. And maybe it was just because of how desperately she wanted to believe it, or maybe those dreams – the happy ones, the ones that were more painful than her dreams of CIA torture, in a way – were beginning to affect her brain… whatever it was, despite her better judgement, something inside her refused to give up completely, despite the fact that she knew it was hopeless.
You'll only end up disappointed, she told herself as she went through the motions of getting ready to go out into the field with the team.
Maybe, the voice agreed. Or maybe not.
I don't deserve any better than what I have now, she reminded herself. I did this to myself. All of it.
Do you really believe that? the voice in her head asked.
I don't have a choice, she insisted firmly. It's the truth.
If you say so, the voice agreed placatingly.
Then, drifting across time and space, she heard a whisper.
There's always a way out.
With a sigh, she allowed herself to remember what little she could about that particular memory. It was Roman, she now knew. From her "training," when she'd been Remi. The training that had helped her escape from the black site. She had watched and waited, and she had done the impossible, and escaped from CIA custody, only to end up back here, maybe more in purgatory than in hell, but not in a good place nonetheless. But even so, that kind of knowledge – of how to resist torture – none of that was going to help her this time.
Oh no? asked the voice curiously. How can you be sure?
It's not the same, she wanted to scream in frustration. It's not even close to the same. No one is physically holding me back. There's nothing to escape from. I could walk out of here… disappear… if I really wanted to.
If you say so, the voice replied, once again frustratingly calmly. So… what's stopping you?
And then once again, as if to tease her, the memory came again.
There's always a way out.
She sighed defeatedly, tired of fighting with her own mind. There were more than enough places to focus her energy on fighting without turning on herself, after all. And besides, how could she really say for sure that that voice didn't know something, somehow, that she didn't?
Maybe, she allowed as the team got ready to move out. But a way out, and then what?
Focus on the mission, she reminded herself. Think about the rest of it later. And because she didn't want to consider the "what ifs" just then, she gladly did just that, focusing on Kurt's stern expression as the team moved out.