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: This is not the last chapter. But the next one is.
The plan they'd made the evening before was simple. Their flight was at 10:35 am. They would be at the airport, only a five minute ride from their hotel, at 8:35 am, which meant that they could easily afford to sleep until 7:30 am, leaving them lots of extra time. They probably could have slept later, since there was nothing to pack or clean up, all they needed to do was to get up and gather their few belongings together, but it seemed wise not to push their luck.
However, the neighbors on either side of their room, apparently one family who had woken up very early to have a screaming match, had other plans. It was only 6:30 am when there was a slam of a door, followed by a scream, and then another scream in reply, and then another slammed door.
And just like that, Jane and Kurt were no longer asleep. The noise continued, from one side of them to the other as the participants in the ruckus shifted from one room to the other, but still Jane and Kurt didn't fully wake up, at least not right away. This was by far the least pleasant way they'd been awoken so far on this trip from the top of the mountain, and yet… when Jane opened her eyes to discover that Kurt had been right, that it wasn't a dream, she couldn't help but smile, a feeling of peace moving through her. Despite the unwanted wake up call, she absolutely could not be upset. After all, Kurt was still there. Nothing else really mattered.
Kurt, on the other hand, was a little grumpier than Jane. " 'the hell?" he mumbled, opening his eyes only slowly and clearly not happy about it. "D'you hear someone screaming?"
"Our neighbors," Jane replied in a whisper, trying not to smile lest she be too annoying to her husband, who she could see had woken up in a bad mood. "On both sides of us. It's apparently one group split into the two rooms, and there's a major problem of some kind. Oh, and just for your benefit, it sounds like they're Americans. So you can follow along." The last sentence had come out a little too gleefully, she knew, but she just couldn't help herself. She was just so happy to have woken up and found him there, she was having trouble even pretending to be unhappy.
"Fucking Americans," Kurt grumbled into the pillow, his head turned to the side as he clearly tried his hardest not to wake up.
Jane leaned down and kissed his cheek, trying to diffuse her husband's temper. She didn't see it often, since he was usually the even-tempered one of the two of them, but she knew that she could calm him down by being extra sweet. If anyone else had tried to so much as look at him when he was in this mood, he would likely have bitten their head off, but Jane… well, there was a reason that their coworkers had long ago agreed that no one should be sent to deal with an angry Weller except Jane. To her credit, she had accepted this job happily.
Feeling the kiss on his cheek, his annoyance level lessened, but he was still upset about having been woken up so early. "We're still supposed to be sleeping," he grumbled. "Haven't we been through enough? Can't we just be allowed to get some sleep?"
"Well, I don't hear them anymore," Jane pointed out soothingly. "Maybe they're all screamed out. You could go back to sleep. I think I'm going to get up and take a shower."
There was something about the way she said those last words that cut through his sleepiness and got his attention. Suddenly, he was no longer grumbling about being awake. His eyes peeked open and he turned and looked at her with a grin.
"What's up?" she asked him, pretending she had no idea.
"What about a shower?" he asked, slightly less gruffly.
"I'm going to go take a shower," she repeated, grinning at him but saying nothing else. "Why?"
"I don't know if I can spare you for that long," he said, pouting slightly. "There's only one solution to that. You know that, right?"
"Are you telling me not to go take a shower?" she asked teasingly, knowing exactly what he was saying, and that that was not it.
"What? No…"
"No? Oh, then what did you have in mind?" She blinked at him, wide-eyed, pretending that she had no idea.
Narrowing his eyes at her, he sat up slowly, bringing his face closer to hers and stopping just before he kissed her, only a fraction of a millimeter between them. "What do you think?" he asked, his lips brushing hers as he talked, but still, he didn't kiss her.
She was endlessly amused by the game he was playing, and she tried her hardest to hold herself back… but it was only a few more seconds before she gave in and kissed him, leaning all the way back down. The first time their faces parted for air, he looked at her triumphantly. "You said something about a shower, didn't you?" he asked, pretending not to remember.
"Good idea. Let's go," she replied. The grin on his face told her that he was declaring himself the winner, since she'd broken first, but really, there was no loser in this situation. She was just happy that he was no longer as grumpy as he'd been when he'd woken up.
By 7:30 they were clean and dressed, drinking coffee of questionable quality that they'd made in the tiny machine in their hotel room. However, just the fact that it was coffee made it almost heavenly as far as Jane was concerned.
"I'm almost jealous of that coffee, the way you're looking at it," Kurt told her, at which she almost spit out what little she had yet to swallow as she took a sip. "Hey, wait, please don't spit it out on me," he quickly added. They were curled up together on the bed, with another 5 minutes before they needed to leave for the airport.
"Well then, don't make me laugh while I'm drinking it then," she replied with a smile, trying not to laugh all over again. They finished their coffee and a few minutes later, they were already standing up and putting their backpacks on their backs.
"Ready?" Kurt asked as they took one last look at their hotel room to be sure they hadn't forgotten anything. They hadn't brought much, but they wouldn't be home for more than twenty-four hours still, so it would be better not to leave anything important behind.
Nodding, she stepped towards him and reached for his hand. "Let's go home," she told him. She was more certain that that was what she wanted than ever before.
She heard the old monk's words ringing in her ears then. Do not return to the mountain. Return home.
The voice in her head was next, its tone insistent but kind. Maybe one of these days you'll learn not to be so stubborn, and to consider the possibility that other people might actually know what's best for you once in a while. Mostly Kurt, of course, but that monk wasn't wrong either. Imagine if you'd actually listened…
The smile on Jane's face told him that she was thinking of something, but it was a smile, not a frown, so he wasn't so much worried as he was curious. "Music to my ears," he replied as they closed the door to their hotel room behind them.
Things seemed to move more quickly after that, though of course, being an airport, there was a lot of 'hurry up and wait.' As they sat that the gate waiting for their flight to board, Kurt noticed that Jane had gone quiet. "Don't be nervous," he leaned over and whispered in her ear, squeezing the hand he was already holding. "We're in this together, remember?"
Just like he said on the plane that time, after we captured Saul Guerrero. After she'd proven that she could fly a helicopter while being shot at, but somehow sitting on an airplane was too stressful.
Yet again, she couldn't be sure exactly how he did it, only that somehow this man constantly managed to make her love him more.
We're going home. The words echoed in her head so loudly that she heard little of the noise around her. It was exciting and somehow, also terrifying all at once.
Terrifying? asked the voice in her head. Please explain how going home is terrifying.
It's where I want to be, and I know that, she thought slowly, trying to dissect her feelings into smaller pieces. But the reason I left…
The reason you left was that you were afraid, the voice in her head reminded her. Afraid for his safety. Afraid of yourself, and that you would somehow hurt him. But haven't you proven that that's impossible? After all, it's like he said. If you were anything like Remi, you wouldn't have given a second thought about what happened to him. The mere fact that you care, and that you care that much, should be all the proof that you need.
She'd been over this in her head, and it made sense. And yet… she still had doubts. It was such a big risk. Looking down at her left hand, she let her thumb play with the gold band on her fourth finger. The one that he had carried all the way back from New York so that, should he find her, he could put it back on her finger.
"I'm nervous about the flight, I mean… flights," she said, rolling her eyes at the fact that they had to make two stops on the way back, and that the trip would take more than twenty-four hours once they took off until they landed at JFK. Looking back up at him hesitantly, she added, "but that's not all."
"What else are you nervous about?" he asked softly, leaning closer to her.
Exhaling a shaky breath, she shook her head slowly. "It's… it's been so long since I was… home," she replied.
"You're nervous about… coming home?" he asked, trying to understand. Things seemed good between the two of them now. Better than good, even. "Jane, I'm just trying to understand. So I can help," he told her. "Is it something to do with me?"
She shook her head, looking down as if she was ashamed.
"No," she whispered. "You're… It's not you." Her composure was slipping, and the last thing she wanted to do was to make a scene in the airport. It was bad enough that they were so obviously foreign, and the fact that she was covered in tattoos that she had long since stopped trying to hide made her stick out enough in a crowd, especially here in Asia.
"Okay," he mused, trying to think of what else it could be. "Is it about work? Because we're going to find the rest of the team. There've been an entire department of people working on it while I was gone, and…" He stopped talking, because she was shaking her head.
"So, it's not me, and it's not work… then what?" He stared at her, feeling helpless, which was one of the things he hated to be most when it came to Jane.
"Just… coming back home, I guess."
"You mean… the apartment?" he asked curiously.
"No, I mean…" She frowned hard, thinking. "Well, yes. It's just… there's so many…" Her head began shaking slowly without her permission, and she looked down. "There are so many ghosts there for me. When I started having Remi's memories, I just… I wanted to escape them, but they were everywhere. And trying to block them out made it worse. It was like, even though she'd never been there, everywhere I looked I saw her. Well, no, it was me, but me as her… doing horrible things. And she wasn't even doing them there, but I was there when I saw them, and…" She sank against his shoulder, defeated by her thoughts.
"I'm sure we'll mostly be at the office until the team is back together," he replied slowly, thinking as he went along about what he could do to fix this problem for her. "And that may help. You once told me the field was the only place you felt comfortable, if I recall…" She smiled a little at that memory, but didn't look up. "But besides that, obviously we will be in the apartment sometimes. And what if we make it a point to confront those ghosts, and to tell them that it's okay to leave now. That they don't have to hang around, because Remi's gone. And we do it together. Maybe if you tell me about them, it won't seem as bad? What do you think?"
Taking a long, deep breath and then exhaling slowly as she thought about what he was proposing, she nodded. That did sound good, actually. She found herself almost smiling, feeling worn out when it wasn't quite 10:00 in the morning and she'd slept better the night before than she had in ages. It was all just… a lot. Every time something else like this hit her, it exhausted her all over again. Luckily, Kurt didn't seem to tire of helping her pick herself back up and start again.
She hadn't even realized that she'd lost herself in thought when suddenly she felt Kurt squeezing her hand. "That's us," he said, standing up.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Time to get on the plane, Mrs. Weller," he said with mock formality.
No longer confused, she smiled at him. "I was starting to think it would never actually happen," she replied as he tugged her out of the chair with the hand that he had yet to let go of. They each picked up their small backpacks, Kurt's larger one having been checked through the first several stops. They would collect it and have it re-examined again before they boarded the final leg of their journey, from Guangzhou, China to JFK.
For now, Kurt couldn't help but think that it felt good, though maybe a little strange, to be traveling light. Everything that was most important was in the bags they carried, and if they lost the big backpack at this point… well, all things considered, it wouldn't be so bad. Besides, everything that was really important, he was already holding onto in his left hand.
She dreaded all the flying they were about to do, but she knew that ultimately, it was the only way home. Besides, she'd survived the entire trip in reverse, without Kurt, so surely she could survive it, and far more easily, now that she was with him again.
They ended up in the very back of the plane, as was bound to happen when you bought your tickets the night before the flight, but thankfully they had two seats together – one aisle and one middle. Jane sat in the middle, insisting that Kurt needed more legroom, which was easier to come by on the aisle, and as usual, she stubbornly refused to be talked out of her decision. In the seat on the other side of her, by the window, there was a businessman who stared at the tablet in front of him, reading what must have been the local newspaper avidly, never once looking up. That was fine with Jane, since she didn't want to make small talk – not that anyone on the plane would assume that she spoke Chinese, if she didn't give away her secret.
Thankfully, the flight took off on time, and Jane sat, gripping her husband's left hand in her right as tightly as she could, leaning her forehead down on his shoulder and gritting her teeth so hard her head was already aching only minutes into the flight.
To his credit, Kurt didn't show any signs of discomfort at his hand being squeezed by Jane's powerful grasp. He remained the picture of calm, his right hand resting on top of Jane's as she squeezed the life out of his left.
"So what you're telling me here is that you climbed the three mile high mountain, with no safety gear whatsoever, every day for months, and you had no fear, but inside a giant piece of technology that routinely moves people safely across the world every hour of every day, that's what you're afraid of?" he whispered, attempting to distract her from her thoughts. "We could go up and ask the pilot if he'll let you fly the plane, if you think that would help… what do you say?"
She tried to laugh, knowing exactly what he was doing and appreciating his attempt at levity, and at calming her down. This was necessary to getting home, but that didn't change the fact that she was still terrified of flying.
"Come here," he said, turning toward her and pulling her closer. Her head fell down against his chest, and he removed his right hand from on top of hers to put his arm around her back.
Jane discovered that with her ear against his chest at the angle that she ended up leaning, she could hear his heartbeat. Almost immediately, she felt herself begin to relax. She hated this irrational fear of hers. After all, as Kurt had pointed out numerous times, she ran toward danger on a regular basis, in situations where anyone else would be terrified. And yet, in a situation so normal to most people that small children could do it without batting an eye, she became a quivering mass of nerves. And so she tried to forget where she was, and what she was doing. She tried to forget absolutely everything except who she was with, building a protective bubble around them in her mind, so that the rest of the world ceased to exist. When she managed that, she felt her anxiety decreasing steadily.
The flight was long… hours and hours, Jane was fairly sure, and there were two more flights after this one. Instead of thinking about that, she tried her hardest to concentrate only on Kurt. He'd lifted up the armrest between their seats, and she stayed pretty much in the same position for the whole flight, her head leaned against his chest and her hand holding his – though no longer in a death grip – while his other arm was wrapped around her. Whether she was awake or asleep, she kept her eyes closed, as if by not seeing her surroundings, she could simply wish them away.
Every once in a while during the flight, which in reality only lasted two hours, he spoke softly into her ear, asking her if she was alright (she nodded yes), if she wanted some water (she shook her head no), or if she was hungry (her answer was also no). But through the whole flight he held onto her tightly, thinking that while he hated to see her so terrified, his part in this, being the one person who could keep her calm just by holding onto her, was a pretty good job.
About an hour and a half into the flight, when he knew they were close to landing in the Chinese city of Chengdu, their first connection, he decided that it might be helpful to prepare her for landing before the flight attendants made their sudden announcement. Once again leaning down against her ear, he whispered, "Jane, I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to remember that it's nothing to be scared of, okay?" He paused, waiting, and she nodded her head against him but stiffened nonetheless.
"We're going to be landing in Chengdu soon, sweetheart. I don't want you to do anything differently than what you're doing right now, because you're doing great, okay? I just wanted to let you know that soon we'll be on the ground. And I'm hoping that you'll be okay once we're on the ground, because I could really use your help with the whole speaking Chinese thing. Come to think of it, that may be the first of your many hidden talents that I found out about." She'd tensed while he'd talked about landing, but he felt her let out the slightest of chuckles when he mentioned her hidden talents, the corners of her mouth moving up just a fraction.
"See, I knew my Jane was in there somewhere," he murmured encouragingly. "Stay with me, okay? I've got you," he added.
Part of her wanted to open her eyes and look at him just then, but part of her was determined to maintain the calm that she'd achieved with so much effort. The part of her that wanted her to keep her eyes closed won out in the end. After all, Kurt had been sitting beside her and keeping her calm, and he hadn't moved. As he said, there was no reason for her to undo what she had done as far as keeping calm, so she did her best to stay in her happy little bubble that included only Kurt and herself.
And so she was extremely surprised when she heard a great deal of commotion around her, and heard Kurt's voice somewhere in the distance, assuring her that she'd done even better than he would have expected. Finally she allowed herself to peek her eyes open, only to see that the many people in the plane in front of them were standing up and rummaging around for their belongings.
The commotion seemed to jar something loose in her head, and she shook it slightly in her attempt to clear it. Instead, the thought came into clearer focus, and she noticed with apprehension that it was one that came through in black and white. As soon as she saw that, she panicked.
Black and white meant that it was one of Remi's memories, for whatever reason. At first it had seemed like a coincidence, but when it happened over and over again – her 'Jane memories' all came through in color, and all of Remi's lacked color completely, just like the flashbacks always had since she'd come out of the bag – it became clear to her that this was how her mind had filed them. It almost seemed like in a way, the ZIP had stripped the color off of everything that had already happened. Maybe it had.
She looked around, her eyes wide in terror, at almost exactly the same scene – a plane full of people, all standing up and gathering their things. As she watched one particular man two rows ahead of her, she felt what Remi had felt when it was actually happening. At least, she told herself that that was what she was feeling… because she couldn't bear to think that she, Jane, was feeling this on her own about anyone. No, it wasn't so much a feeling as the knowledge that this man was about to die, and she was about to kill him. Not here, in this airplane, but in a few minutes, in a darkened hallway, on the other side of a security door for which she happened to have a keycard in her pocket.
And then just like that, she heard a loud noise as the memory was sucked out of her field of vision – that was the only way she could describe it. Suddenly everything she could see first began to waver, slowly at first and then faster, until she saw the world around her pulled away the same way some talented magicians could pull a tablecloth out from under a table full of dishes – quickly, in one fluid motion.
All of a sudden, the world around her had color in it again, and Kurt was beside her as she was once again squeezing his hand for dear life, as she had been during take-off. Kurt had been talking to her, it seemed, mumbling her name worriedly as he attempted to get her to look at him. When her vision focused and she was able to turn in his direction a few seconds later, she saw his worry turn to relief, and his forehead fell down against hers.
"Jane," he whispered. "You really had me worried there for a second…" She nodded numbly, unable to speak just yet. She felt her hand relaxing in his as she stared at her white knuckles and though in despair that she needed to stop squeezing his hand so hard, because one of these days, as tough as he was, she might hurt him.
As she caught her breath, she focused on her right hand, which was sitting on his left knee, now clasped more loosely with his. She'd tried to let go of his hand completely, to put it somewhere that would be safer for him, like against the seat under her right leg, but he'd refused to let go completely. She turned her hand in his, so that it was his hand facing up, and then brought her left hand over to place on top of it. "I'm sorry," she said in a panicked voice, only a fraction of a whisper. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Do you see what you just did? I'm sure you didn't notice, did you?" he asked. Sighing patiently, he took a deep breath. "You were squeezing my hand – which didn't hurt me, by the way, just so we're clear – and when you realized it, and I guess decided that you wanted to spare me from something that you didn't need to spare me from, you tried to move your hand away completely. Does this sound familiar to you?"
She could feel him looking at her as she stared at their hands, her eyes only moving up slowly until she finally met his. In those eyes that were looking at her so intently, she found calm, as she so often had over the past week. Of course, she knew that there was plenty of hurt behind those eyes, but when it came down to it, most of it had been caused by her trying to keep him safe.
He bent his head closer to her, to allow for the maximum amount of privacy that could be had in the back of a crowded airplane – which wasn't much, but there was nothing they could do about that, and what he needed to say couldn't wait. "Will you please stop trying to run away in order to keep me safe?" he asked gently. "And don't you dare say you're sorry. Don't be sorry. Just… let me help you."
Inhaling and exhaling slowly, still trying to calm her racing heartbeat and process everything he'd just said to her, and the fact that she'd basically just done a miniature version of what had gotten them into this situation in the first place, she felt a wave of despair. It was too much, too big. She couldn't solve it. She didn't want to be here in the middle of China, fighting to get back home. She didn't want to be triggered by every little thing that she saw or heard or felt. She didn't want to have to face this same threat, day after day, which she'd conditioned herself to see even when it no longer existed externally. She didn't want to have another, angrier version of herself inside her head. She didn't want to keep feeling like she was failing at, well, everything.
The crowd in front of them was making their way off the plane painstakingly slowly, so they were still nowhere near moving, which was a good thing just then because Jane wasn't ready to go anywhere. She was tangled up inside her thoughts again, and she needed his help to find her way out. That was okay with him. It didn't panic him – at least not as much as it used to – to see her when she was like this. While of course he worried about her, he knew that if he just kept trying, kept physical contact with her and kept talking to her, that he would get through. It might take a little while, but his experience had taught him that it would work, and he chose to believe that this time would be no different.
Ignoring the curious glances from the few passengers around then who had noticed that Jane looked distraught, he took off his seatbelt and turned to face her all the way, letting go of her hand and pulling both arms around her securely. Leaning down next to her ear, he murmured, "I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that that was one of Remi's memories you just had. Am I wrong?" Feeling her head shake from side to side very gently, he kissed the top of her head.
"It's going to get better, Jane. I promise. Okay? I refuse to believe that this is something we can't get past. And I wish I could put all of those memories inside my own head so you didn't have to deal with them, but unfortunately the best I can do is be here for you. And that's what I'm going to do. Do you hear me? No more running away, no more pulling away because you think you're going to squeeze too tightly – literally or figuratively. I can handle it. The only thing I can't handle is losing you."
He felt her breathing even out slowly, and felt her relax. For a minute, she was so still and her breathing so even, that he wondered if she'd fallen asleep. That was when she finally spoke.
She turned her head so that her face wasn't against his chest and he had a chance of hearing her when she talked. "I hate feeling like I can't stop breaking down," she whispered. "I keep thinking that this has to be the last time, and then along comes something else. It's just… exhausting."
"I know… and you have a lifetime of very messed up programming inside your head to deal with. That's not easy. But you know what? When they ZIPed you, and you got a chance to start over, that's when the real you shone through. Remi – Alice – that poor little girl that you were in a different lifetime – they made her cold and unfeeling and vengeful. She wasn't born that way. And the longer you're Jane, the stronger you get. It's going to get better. Now that we know what we're dealing with, we can meet it head on." He couldn't help thinking that Jane would need to talk to a professional, and not just him. This didn't seem like the best time to bring this up, however. After all, none of them were excited about trusting a therapist after Borden had turned out to be Sandstorm. But that was a problem for another day.
The determination in his voice was so strong, she noticed. She also noticed that he'd said 'we' and not 'you.' Now that we know what we're dealing with, we can meet it head on. Not Jane alone. Jane and Kurt. The same way they'd always dealt with problems. Well, not always… but it was the only way that had ever worked.
"I don't think you'll ever be able to understand how much I love you," she told him sincerely, looking up into his eyes.
"You're wrong," he told her. "Because that's how much I love you. Maybe more." He winked at her mischievously.
"So it's a contest now?" she replied, realizing that it felt good to smile, even though her face, like the rest of her, felt exhausted.
"Of course not, just a statement of fact," he grinned.
"Okay, Mr. Competitive, then why don't we just call it a tie?"
"So I'm not the only competitive one, then," he observed, raising his eyebrows at her, gland to see her regaining some of the spark that he knew and loved.
"I don't think that was ever a secret," she told him, her smile widening.
Finally, the rows in front of them were starting to move, and he loosened his arms from around her as they prepared to have to stand up and deplane.
"Are you okay now?" he asked softly.
His concern was just as touching as it always was, a stark contrast to the days when he'd looked at her so harshly, which she would never quite be able to forget. Of course, that just made this feeling that much sweeter. "Yes," she replied. Then, her smile widening, she joked, "You ask me that a lot, you know that?"
"Oh, do I ever," he said, his face brightening as hers did. "And I plan to continue. Because if you're not okay, then I need to do something about it. It's part of my job."
"Your job?" she echoed in amusement.
"Absolutely. It's my job to make sure my wife is happy. And my honor, and my privilege."
"Oh, good one. Very smooth," she told him approvingly. "You're getting better at this."
He chuckled at her evaluation, tucking her hair behind her ear, then leaned forward so he could whisper in her ear. "And I'm only getting started." Then he sat back and stood up, gathering their backpacks so that, a few seconds later when she was standing beside him, he could hand her hers, and together they could finally make their way off of this plane and onto their next one. The next flight was only slightly longer, just under two and a half hours, and would take them to Guangzhou, also in China, from which they could fly direct back to New York.
They had a few hours in Chengdu, during which they found bottles of water that they didn't have to boil themselves, and a snack chosen from what felt like a dizzying array of choices after their trek down the mountain with only the food the monks had given them, then they planted themselves in the chairs by their gate, conscious of the looks they got from curious fellow travelers. Jane smiled at the people who stared at her, both because she as a foreigner and also because, in a white v-neck, short sleeved t-shirt, a lot of her tattoos were on display. She didn't care. Smiling was what came naturally to her at the moment anyway, because she felt at peace. If people glared at her or showed concern of any kind, she didn't notice.
Kurt, while happy to see his wife had recovered from her most recent panic attack, and of course, elated to have her beside him again, remained vigilant. This was unknown territory, after all, and the fact that he didn't speak the language made him extra uneasy. His FBI training, which had served him well so many times, had taught him never to let his guard down. Until they were home safely in their apartment, he would not relax completely. He could, however, drape his arm over Jane's shoulders and enjoy the feeling of her head on his shoulder as she curled up beside him.
They weren't home yet, but even half a world away, they felt amazingly close.