Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. I'm just borrowing the characters so I can play with them a little bit.

Season 1, episode 2

The next few hours were a blur. She found herself sparring with Weller first, terrified that some unexpected lethal ability would suddenly surface and that she'd hurt him. Weller, however, wasn't afraid, and kept pushing her not to hold back on his account. She had expected him to be strong, a formidable opponent, and he certainly was. The truth was, they seemed to be relatively evenly matched as far as skills. Just when Jane thought she had the upper hand and hesitated for a split second, once again with the fear of doing something that would hurt him, Weller would use it to his advantage and she would find that she was no longer in control. It was a nice change, she thought, to do something that came effortlessly to her. Everything else so far took so much thinking.

Next Jane found herself shooting again, this time in a different room with a different weapon, but once again with Weller looking on from not far behind her. As she shot at the target, her mind suddenly flooded with black and white images, similar to the ones of the outdoor shooting range that she'd remembered before where she was watching herself, long haired and tattoo-less. These images were far more chilling, however, as she saw herself in a church, shooting a nun, or at least someone dressed as a nun, in the head. The nun fell to the ground, the blood quickly pooling around her head as Jane looked on in terror.

Panic echoed through her as she watched the woman she knew to be herself as if she were watching a stranger.

I did that? she thought, terrified. But WHY?

This was very different from shooting at a target. She had shot another human being, in the head, and watched them die. From the looks of it, it wasn't the first time, because the woman in her memory hadn't batted an eye at the scene. No, she had intended to do that. That thought scared her just as much, if not more, than what she had seen herself do.

She turned around to look at Weller, desperate for a familiar face, something to tether her to reality. Weller, of course, took one look at the expression on her face and knew that something was wrong. He couldn't help but think that she looked like she'd seen a ghost, which made him wonder if she'd remembered something. After all, a ghost and an unexpected memory might seem, to Jane, to be the same thing.

"What is it, Jane?" he asked her. Concern was written all over her face at the sudden change in her expression. "Did you remember something?" Jane, however, didn't answer, just continued to stare wide-eyed ahead, slightly to the side of Weller's right shoulder as he stood facing her. If he didn't know better, he'd say that she was still seeing something, at least another flicker of it, before it appeared that her mind had disengaged from whatever it was once again. There was clearly something that was alarming her, but she still didn't utter a single word.

He watched her, wondering exactly what the right thing to do would be in that situation. In the short time that he'd known her, his first instinct had always been to make contact with her, generally without even thinking about what he was doing. He was about to take a step towards her to do just that and try to break the spell that she seemed to be under, when the door at the far end of the room banged open loudly, and Reade rushed in, breaking the tense silence.

"The hospital just called," Reade announced. "Chao's dead." And just like that, there was no time to dwell on whatever Jane had remembered, at least not at that moment. Jane snapped back to reality and Weller forgot, for the time being, about finding out what she had seen. The two of them set out behind Reade, leaving the room to take care of the more urgent matter of what had happened to Chao.

The team was heading to Brooklyn this time, trying to track down Major Gibson, their newest connection on the current case.

"Let's go," Weller said to Zapata and Reade, who were standing on either side of him in the screens room, having just been briefed by Patterson about their new lead.

"I'm coming with you," Jane piped up. She'd been standing just a step off to one side, but not so far away that she was left out of the discussion. She fell into step beside Weller as he began walking quickly towards the door.

To her surprise and relief, Weller glanced at her and nodded slightly. "Yes, you are," he agreed without argument. Jane couldn't help but smile inside, though she kept it hidden from the team. It may have been a small triumph, but for some reason, Weller agreeing so easily to let her come along felt like a major victory.

Reade was two steps in front of him, and turned around in surprise – no, shock – as they walked. "She is?"

Mayfair was also confused by the sudden change. "You were dead against her going into the field yesterday," she observed in a calm, cool voice at almost the same time that Reade spoke.

Weller turned around to face Mayfair, who was still standing with Patterson where the others had been gathered by the screens a moment before, walking slowly back towards her. "I was wrong," Weller told her confidently, coming to a stop in front of his boss. "We don't know how the tattoos work yet. She should be there." Again, Jane couldn't felt but feel a sense of gratitude to Weller for taking her side.

Mayfair regarded Weller skeptically, her face revealing nothing. "It might help her retrieve her memory," Weller continued, "and we all know, she can handle herself." Weller wasn't pleading, Jane noticed, but speaking matter-of-factly, as though he simply expected Mayfair to go along with his assessment. In that split second, she hoped that the agent's opinion would carry as much weight as Weller seemed to feel that it would.

Jane couldn't stay quiet any longer. "Please," she said from behind Weller's shoulder, "I can help figure this out." Mayfair just nodded, looking away. She clearly didn't like that she was agreeing to this. She must really think a lot of Weller's judgement, Jane reasoned.

Weller nodded back at Mayfair. "Thank you," he said quietly as they turned to leave.

I just hope she doesn't make me regret this, Weller thought as he turned to go, Jane a step behind him.

They were at Ivan Musgrave's apartment building, walking up to his door – Reade first, then Zapata, Weller, and Jane behind him. Weller turned around and stopped Jane as she stood on the top step. "Jane. Just wait here for us, alright? Just until we get a read on the situation. Okay?"

She didn't argue, just rolled her eyes slightly and bit the inside of her cheek in frustration. Again? she wanted to complain. While she knew that she wasn't an FBI agent and couldn't be expected to be treated like one, she was quickly getting sick of being thought of as helpless. As much as she had been told that Weller did things like this for her protection, she still hated to be made to wait on the sidelines. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, exactly, she just felt like he was still underestimating her, which was frustrating. This time, however, she held her protests inside. She'd already won at least one battle, having Weller vouching for the importance of her going into the field, after all.

She watched from the top step as the team approached Musgrave's apartment door at the end of the hall. "Major Musgrave, this is the FBI," Weller called authoritatively. "Major Musgrave?"

There was no answer. That was when Jane caught movement out of the corner of her eye from the stairs below her, and turned to see a bald man that looked a lot like the photograph of Musgrave himself. He was standing on the landing a few steps below her, holding a laundry basket. "Ivan Musgrave?" Jane asked. In a split second, the man had dropped the laundry basket in front of him and began bolting down the stairs.

Jane took off after him, jumping over the bend in the railing where the stairs went around the corner to the landing to save time. "Weller!" she called as she took off after him, knowing that waiting for the team – which Weller would, of course, have wanted her to do, could mean that they'd lose him. No, it was up to her to at least slow the man down until the team could catch up.

Musgrave made it to the bottom of the stairs and around the corner before Jane caught up with him, slamming him against a wall and then forcing him into the door of the apartment beside them, which had just opened. "Hey!" yelled the young woman who had just come through the door, startled when the two strangers launched themselves into her apartment and the door slammed behind them. Jane and Musgrave took turns knocking each other down as they went deeper into the apartment, slamming into walls and knocking things over.

Meanwhile, Weller and the rest of the team had reached the bottom of the stairs, and headed for the woman who was standing outside her apartment door, still looking confused. "Hey, did they go in there?" Weller asked her. The woman could only nod, dumbstruck, wondering what in the world was going on. The door was locked and the woman had been too stunned to take out her key. Weller, of course, couldn't stop to wait for her to unlock the door. Instead, he took a step back and kicked it in easily, the thin piece of wood falling in under the force of the blow against it. The team followed the sounds of struggle down the hall, Weller first, Reade and Zapata behind him.

There they found Jane and Musgrave, both laying on the floor, with Jane using a stereo cord to subdue the man and appearing dangerously close to strangling him. "Jane! Let him go!" Weller called quickly. She obliged, rolling onto her side and breathing heavily from the exertion of the fight.

By the time Jane hauled herself to her feet, Weller had Musgrave in handcuffs behind his back, face flat against the floor until Weller yanked him up roughly, turning him over to Reade, who led him out of the apartment. With Musgrave taken care of, he swiveled to face Jane, who stood in front of him, trying to catch her breath.

"You okay?" he asked. Jane, still recovering from the exertion of the fight, simply nodded from behind the dark strands of her hair, which had fallen in front of her face. Her muscles were on fire over most of her body, but she didn't complain. After all, it was nothing major. She walked toward Weller, who watched her carefully as she passed him, then followed her out of the living room and down the hall, out of the unlucky woman's apartment as she just stood and stared after them. The woman stood wide eyed and open mouthed, afraid to say anything, for a second longer. When they'd taken no more than three steps past her, she ran back inside her apartment, anxious to assess the damage, and closed the door noisily behind her.

Weller, only a step behind Jane, extended his right arm forward to her shoulder, tugging slightly so that she came to a stop, and tugging again so that she turned around to face him. He withdrew his hand, but looked her in the eyes questioningly. He didn't need to ask, his eyes have already done it for him.

She smiled at him unconvincingly, nodding slightly, and, seeing that Weller wasn't buying it, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Weller, I'm fine," she insisted, holding up her hands in the air, knuckles facing him. "See? No blood this time." He grimaced, recalling the fight at Chao's apartment and the bloody state that Jane's knuckles had been in afterwards.

He grabbed one of her hands gently in his own and took half a step forward for a closer inspection, his thumb barely touching the center of the back of her hand, which was bruised from the previous fight but somehow otherwise unharmed. His other four fingers made only the slightest contact with the palm of her hand underneath, hidden from her view. She slowly lowered her other hand to her side as her exasperation changed to amazement. She could simply not understand why her well-being was so important to him – though she'd have been lying if she'd said that she didn't enjoy the feeling at all.

"I'm fine," she insisted quietly, and her voice snapped him back to reality. The stormy expression hadn't left his face, and now it shifted from her hand to her eyes. He just nodded then, seeming to finally accept her self-assessment.

He glanced down at her hand as if he was surprised to see himself holding it, and let go gently. "Okay then, let's go," he mumbled gruffly, catching her eye one more time before turning back towards the door that led outside from the lobby, where Reade had just appeared with Musgrave in tow.

"You two coming already, or what?" Reade asked sarcastically. The look on his face matched his tone perfectly. He simply couldn't believe that Jane was being let out into the field with them, and the effect that she had on Weller… well, he just wasn't himself with her.

Weller pushed past Reade and Musgrave, emerging in front of them into the sunlight and stopping there on the sidewalk. Musgrave was going to answer his questions, plain and simple. The rest of the team filed out behind him, stopping in a small circle, all focused on Musgrave.

Jane hung back, knowing that though she may have the biggest stake in this of all of them, this was the time for her to observe, not participate. Besides, for the moment she was content in the knowledge that without her, they may not have caught Musgrave at all. However, as Musgrave talked, it came out that he had been the one who had turned Gibson in, and in a flash it became clear to them what was happening.

Just as they realized the danger that Musgrave was in, and because they were standing with him, that they were all in as well, Jane suddenly saw the bearded man from her visions in the woods. He was real, and he was standing nearby, staring at her from beside the building! Everyone else, of course, was completely absorbed in the more immediate danger they were in, having just realized that there were likely about to be struck by a missile fired by a rogue military drone. "Weller," Jane said urgently, but Weller wasn't listening. Suddenly he was pushing Jane back toward the door of the building, even as she struggled urgently against him.

"No! No, wait! That's the man from the woods!" But Weller wasn't hearing her. The only thing he could think of was that they had to get back inside, now, that their safety, their lives, depended on it. "He's standing right there!" Jane managed to get out as Weller finally pushed her back inside the doorway.

Before she had a chance to get her balance from the inertia of Weller's shoving, the air around them seemed to explode. The noise was deafening, the air choked with smoke, and all she could feel was pain and disorientation as she was slammed to the ground by a force far stronger than any human assailant could have been.

All Weller knew was that he'd managed to get Jane into the building, but literally the second they were across the threshold, he felt himself thrown to the floor of the lobby by an explosion. Seconds passed in which he couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't hear… he could only smell smoke and feel the ache of every muscle in his body from the impact with the ground, could only hope desperately that his team was unharmed as he waited for the smoke to clear, trying desperately to catch his breath.

Jane… his mind screamed…