The hospital hallway outside of radiology is eighty-four steps long, takes approximately thirty-seven seconds to cover in each direction. Weller has already completed the circuit over a hundred times while he waits for a machine to take pictures of Jane's head, tell him how badly she's been hurt. And the entire time all he can see is a jagged piece of pipe cracking her skull, his wife falling to the ground helpless.
Whatever the result, he knows it's entirely on him. It was his guy Jane was after when she got hit, it was his failure at securing his own two men that led to this. Not only that, Weller is sure that he should have seen the extra guy coming, warned her in time.
So he just keeps repeating it over and over in his mind, picking out all the ways he should have done better. She's his partner, both in life and at work. Which means it's his job to protect her and he's done a shit job of recently, has almost lost her way too many times. To ZIP poisoning, to Remi, to her own memories, to a psychopath that buried her alive.
Weller grinds his jaw, balls his hands into fists and resists punching the walls in frustration. Not that hurting himself will do anything to help Jane. But it would momentarily satisfy the anger in him, the desire to punish himself for his failure.
Still, not a very good reason to destroy property. And Jane would give him shit for it afterwards, would be far from impressed if he lost it and broke his hand while she's the one suffering.
With great restraint Kurt manages to keep his balled up fists away from any likely inanimate objects, settles for another round of pacing and self-blame to cope with his nervous energy. He desperately tries to keep all the worst case scenarios out of his mind by telling himself that Jane was conscious and responsive, that she's extremely resilient. Yet again and again he sees the metal bar striking her, blood leaking from her head.
Weller's so lost in his personal purgatory that he doesn't even hear her at first, the soft steps of her slippered feet hidden within the other noises in the hallway.
"Kurt," she says quietly as he's walking away, embarking on another lap.
Weller snaps to attention, turns and hurries to her, grasps her hand tightly. Jane is dressed in just a hospital gown, looks pale and exhausted standing there. But at least the cut on her head has been stitched and bandaged. And she's had a chance to clean up, is no longer covered in blood.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asks, directing her to sit down. "Did all the tests go okay?"
Jane gives him a little shrug and a nod as he settles her into one of the waiting area chairs, then sits down beside her. She shivers when he pulls her towards him so Kurt drapes his jacket over her shoulders before wrapping her up in his arms, leaning her face into his chest.
"Warmer?" he asks softly, right up against her ear.
Jane nods again, falling into him tiredly.
She looks so fragile and ashen, his deadly wife. He doesn't like it at all, brings back too many recent memories of being at the hospital, watching her fade away. He had never been more scared, more desperate in his life. So everything about being at the hospital again makes him extremely tense, caught up in freezing fear.
"So, what did the doctor say?" he asks, unable to wait any longer. He needs to know she's going to be okay, that his traumatic fear can abate. Also, he just wants to hear her voice.
"She's going to update us on the test results as soon as possible," Jane mutters against his shirt.
Weller takes a breath, tells himself to be patient. Though it's near impossible to sit and wonder if his wife is bleeding in her brain, how badly her skull was injured. A large part of him wants to march into the testing room and pull out his weapon, demand answers. But he puts aside his ridiculous anxious desires to be there for Jane, hold her as she shakes with exhaustion. He kisses her adorably messy hair, tries to ignore the dried blood still sticking to her scalp.
"How's the headache?" he asks, even though he can tell it's bad from the way her forehead is clenched.
Jane grumbles into his chest, makes a pained throaty sound that makes his heart melt. It's not like her to admit to hurting and he treasures her vulnerability in the moment, that she trusts him to keep her safe.
"Oh love, I know it hurts," he says sympathetically. "Do you want me to see if they'll give you some more painkillers?"
Jane shakes her head, snuggles into him even more tightly. Weller doesn't argue, just rests his chin on top of her head and rocks her gently. Starts running his thumb up and down her neck soothingly, murmurs things into her hair.
"Everything's going to be okay," he tells her, over and over. "I've got you."
Eventually some of the tension slips from Jane's body as he runs his hands lower, down over her spine. Then he drifts his fingers gently all the way back up through her hair until she makes a little satisfied grunt. Kurt smiles to himself, pleased he can at least do this for her.
Jane eventually starts to breathe longer, more languid breaths until finally she's lightly snoring into his chest. Weller looks down at her sleeping, feels her breath hot up against his shirt. Despite all the trauma and all the worry, his heart melts and he beams at her, brushes his lips against her temple.
"You just rest, Jane," he whispers to his incredible wife, the love of his life.
"I'll take care of you."
###
She wakes to a ringing noise, wetness on her cheek.
And still that crushing feeling in her head, the never abating throb.
Jane tries to blink away the pain but it doesn't go anywhere, just screams from within her skull. It doesn't help that her eyes open to fluorescent lights that seem much too bright and shoot lasers directly into her bruised brain.
For a moment she resists consciousness, burrows into the familiar warmth of her husband. Even though she's a bit uncomfortable in her position, her neck kinked awkwardly. It's still so reassuring to be asleep against him, know that she's got someone to hold onto.
Kurt is running the tips of his fingers along her spine and it almost distracts her from the pounding in her head, the dizziness she feels when she opens her eyes. Jane sags into him, wonders why his shirt is soggy. Then cringes with embarrassment when she realizes it's her own drool, forces herself to finally lift her head up.
"Hey," Kurt says, using his hand to support her head, then bringing it down to hold her jaw lightly. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired," she grumbles, closing her eyes to the irritating light. "I just want to go home."
"I know," he replies sympathetically. "The doctor should be back with your test results soon; it's been about thirty minutes."
Jane groans. She's done with waiting, wants to just curl up in their bedroom and bear her pain away from the incessant light and noise.
"Please, Kurt," she whines. "I'm fine. Just take me home so I can sleep."
She hates the pitch of her voice, how pathetic she feels begging him for something that she knows he can't give. There's no way he would let her leave without the doctor's okay, he wouldn't be Kurt Weller if he did. But she's still so exhausted even after napping on his chest and the goddamned pain in her head that just won't go away is making her extremely irritable.
"Hey, it's okay," he says, rubbing her neck again. "I know you're frustrated and you don't feel good. The doctor's going to come soon and then we'll go home as soon as possible."
Which is Weller-speak for we'll go home when the doctor says so. Even though he is a goddamned hypocrite about hospitals, always signing himself out when he shouldn't.
Jane groans, is pretty sure that the doctor is going to want to admit her. Which means that she's going to have to argue about it with Weller when she already feels drained and overwhelmed. Irrationally she just wants to take off, can't bear to hear bad news, to upset Kurt any more than she already has by being cranky and concussed. Which is nonsensical because obviously he would really flip out if she were to actually try and leave without knowing what's wrong with her.
So she quells her impulse, tries to concentrate on the feeling of Kurt's thumbs, making soothing patterns on her skin. Jane breathes him in, does her best to ignore the terrible feeling in her head.
Eventually, the doctor comes to discuss her CAT scan and the results of her neurological tests with them and Jane has to unfold herself from Kurt's arms, try to look alert and competent, capable of going home. At first, things sound promising; there isn't much swelling in her brain despite the trauma to her skull. But then the doctor goes on to say that she suspects a hidden basal skull fracture along with the regular linear one they found, that she wants to admit Jane for at least a day to monitor her for additional symptoms.
Jane's heart falls, crushed at the thought of lying in a hospital bed, Kurt stuck sleeping in a chair beside her. Because obviously he would stay with her unless physically removed, regardless any discomfort to himself. And she's sure it will all be pointless, that she will be fine despite the results of the tests. She just has to go home sleep in her own bed, draped in Kurt and everything will get better.
"No, I'm not staying," she states firmly. "I can be monitored at home. I don't need to be in the hospital."
"Well yes, it is precautionary but standard procedure in this type of case," the doctor says. "And if there's any increase in the swelling we could need to treat it immediately or else you'd be at risk for seizures, vision loss."
It's like taking two psychological bullets, right to the gut. Jane shakes, stunned by the trauma of the memories. She can see that Kurt is hit as well. He is visibly shaken, gripping her hand much too tightly.
She doesn't remember the first seizure she had, just being extremely confused afterwards, seeing the look of abject panic on Kurt's face. She had made him tell her the dirty details even though it had obviously hurt him to recount what he saw, how she had screamed and convulsed repeatedly, lost control of her bladder. She had to know what had happened, what she had subjected him to.
Jane's frozen in the past, unable to continue her defense of going home even though she is still certain it's what she wants. Yet, as frustrated and upset as she is, she's still very aware of Kurt, how much this whole thing must be triggering him too. He had already been through so much because of her and now she was going to upset him yet again by arguing with him, refusing to take no for an answer.
Jane struggles for words, how to explain her needs without angering her overprotective husband. But she feels lost, out of sorts without Kurt's usual unfailing support. So she tries to tell him with her eyes, the frantic way she grasps his hand.
I need you to take me home, she pleads silently. But I don't want to fight with you.
Sometimes she thinks Kurt Weller is a miracle, only meant for her. This time it's because he squeezes her hand reassuringly, looks at her and mouths 'don't worry, I've got this'.
"We've both spent too much time in hospitals recently," he says to the doctor. "And Jane's going to be a lot more likely to rest well and recover at home. I'll be there to monitor her the entire time and she's going to be extremely truthful if any of her symptoms worsen. If anything happens we will be back here in minutes."
He gives her a stern look when he says the bit about her being truthful about her symptoms and Jane feels a stab of guilt remembering how much she'd been hiding from Kurt back when she was sick. She wonders if it was his intent, a solid tactical move on his part. He'd certainly won her over completely in a single moment. She never thought that he would hear her wordless plea, take on her battle for her. Now she certainly can't lie to him about anything, despite her inclination towards hiding her hurts.
Jane offers him a grateful expression, a breath of pure relief. The doctor still looks skeptical but unwilling to argue with both of them so she gives Weller a bunch of information on what to watch out for and then resigns herself to getting discharge papers drawn up.
While they're waiting for the paperwork to be finalized, Kurt pulls her towards him and wraps her up in his arms, holds her tight. It's moments like these she thinks surely he's too good for her, will see it himself any minute. After everything she's done to him, all the pain he's been through with her. He saved her, like he always does.
"Thank you," she says, shuddering involuntarily. She wants to say more, properly express how much she appreciates him but words still aren't coming to her fatigued brain.
Of course Kurt doesn't need anything more, seems happy to just kiss her on top of her head, breathe into her hair.
"You have to promise to be honest with me," he whispers against her ear. "It's your brain, Jane. It's what makes you, you."
Yeah, what made me a stellar child soldier, successful terrorist, mastermind of a scheme to kill millions. Sometimes this is the way her thoughts turn now that she can remember it all. And at the moment Jane can feel them sway vividly, seemingly uncontrolled by her broken neurons.
But when she tunes back into Weller's voice he's still going on about what he loves about her brain; his current musing some sappy comment about how he admires her artistic side, how she constantly makes him look at things in new ways.
He is entirely relentless, absolutely adorable. So of course she lets him convince her and promises him the truth. Steeps in the comfort of his arms, falls in love with him for the millionth time.