Author's Note: Yay, managed another update! Thank you for your patience - I know I write like a snail these days. Only two more chapters to go, unless things get away from me (but I don't think they will).

Jane let herself into the apartment with relief. It still didn't seem quite real to her that she was home, falling back into a familiar routine with Kurt by her side, and now Roman, too. She'd discussed that detachment a little with her therapist this evening, but her main preoccupation had been with Shepherd. She hadn't even had time to talk about her latest meeting with Keaton yet.

This is all gonna take a long time to deal with. But at least she had her family—her brother, and her newer, chosen family.

Kurt smiled at her from the couch as she set down her keys. "Hey. Good session?"

Jane sat down next to him, sighing. "Exhausting session. But it feels good to get it out, I guess."

He kissed the top of her head as she leaned against him. "I'm proud of you. A lot of people wouldn't want to face all this."

Jane smiled, a little sadly. "It doesn't feel like it's anything to be proud of. Just another thing I have to do. But I've been having therapy since I first got to the FBI, so I guess I'm just used to it."

"I used to spend my mandatory sessions with Borden talking about sports and movies," Kurt reminded her, "so you're taking it way more seriously than I would."

Laughing, Jane thought back to the time she and Patterson had dropped in on one of those sessions—literally, out of the air vent in the ceiling. "I remember."

They sat together quietly for a moment, each lost in thought. Then Jane asked, "Have you seen Roman, since you got in?"

"No. He's been shut in his room the whole time. I didn't want to intrude. I know he was in a lot of pain by the time his detail got him home."

Jane's anxiety spiked. "Okay. I'm gonna go check on him."

"I'll start dinner."

Jane kissed him, affection a glowing ember in her chest. I love this man so much. "Thank you."

She headed through the apartment, to knock softly on Roman's door. "You awake?"

"Yeah," her brother called back, and Jane took it as an invitation to enter, closing the door behind her.

Roman was in bed, actually resting, which was an indication of just how much the day had taken out of him. He was paler than she'd have liked, and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes, but she could tell from his relaxed demeanour that he'd taken one of the pills the hospital had given him.

"How are you feeling?"

She already knew the answer, but the way he responded would be a way to gauge his mood.

He snorted. "Like shit. Pushed it too hard earlier. But I'm glad it's over."

Jane sat on the edge of the bed. "Well, now you can rest. For as long as you need." She tried a smile. "Weird day, huh?"

"Very," Roman agreed. "Shepherd get transferred okay?"

"Yeah. Nas and Reade oversaw it. It went fine; she didn't say anything else." Jane hesitated. "What did Shepherd say to you, after I left?"

Roman gave her a sceptical look. "You weren't listening in on the surveillance footage?"

"No. Right after I got out of there, I was mainly trying not to punch things. Not the first time Shepherd's had that effect on me."

"Not by a long shot," Roman confirmed, and Jane returned his wry smile.

"And it didn't feel right to eavesdrop," Jane added. "I know Nas was listening, but she didn't tell me anything."

Roman shifted in bed, flinching with the pain from his wound. "Mainly, she just told me what an ungrateful asshole I'd been, and how much I'd sold out. You heard the worst of it. Her trying to use Remi against me."

"I'm sorry," Jane told him softly. "I know you wish she'd never taken the ZIP. Having Shepherd rub it in must have been hard."

He shrugged. "Honestly? I'm used to it. Shepherd always knew where my weak spots were." He opened his hand, and Jane saw their coin in his palm. "She took it once, you know."

Jane stared at him, protective anger for their younger selves boiling her blood. "The coin?"

"Yeah." Roman gazed down at the object of discussion, his expression weary. "We hid it from her for months. Maybe a year. We didn't trust anybody at first, not after the orphanage. But eventually we opened up enough, and we told her why we passed it back and forth like we did. She didn't like it, but she didn't want to say so. So one day she took it, when I was distracted."

Oh, Roman. You must have been devastated. "I'm guessing it didn't go down well."

Roman laughed bitterly. "I lost my mind. Tore the room apart looking for it, then started on the rest of the house. You were out in the woods, hunting for food, like we didn't have a perfectly good grocery store five minutes away. Shepherd said she wanted us to learn how to fend for ourselves in the wilderness. I think she just liked making us kill shit."

That doesn't surprise me even one bit. Jane flexed her fingers, flashing back to skinning the hide off an animal, its blood still warm against her skin. She fought off a shudder.

"So I got back from hunting, and you still couldn't find the coin?" she asked.

Roman shook his head. "I could hardly even talk. I knew you'd be mad that I'd lost the only link we had left to our parents, and I needed it back. After everything we'd lost, I couldn't deal with losing the coin as well. I wrecked half the house, and then Shepherd hit me, and told me to grow up, and I just…shut down."

"Was I mad at you?" When she talked about her past with Kurt, or the team, it was easy to separate herself from Remi. When it was Roman filling in the blanks, it was rarely that simple.

"No. Just like when that kid took it at the orphanage, you gave me something to hold onto, to be a substitute coin until you found the real one. You had some money left over from your allowance. I think you gave me a nickel."

Jane relaxed a little. At least her childhood self hadn't been a complete bully. Unlike their adopted mother. "Did it help?"

"A little. Then you went straight to Shepherd's room and started going through her stuff. We weren't usually allowed in there, but you just barged in. She hadn't bothered to hide it that well. I think she thought you'd be so mad at me that you wouldn't think to blame her, but somehow you guessed, and you found where she'd hidden it, in her jewellery box."

"I guess she was hanging onto it, in case she could use it to manipulate us later," Jane said sourly.

Roman inclined his head in wry agreement. "You gave it back to me, and then you went and screamed at Shepherd."

"Did she hit me, too?"

"She wanted to. She was tensed up, and her fingers were twitching—we both knew the signs. You were waiting for her to do it. Your face was just daring her to. But she was in the wrong, and you'd caught her out, so she said it was a test. Said we'd gotten too comfortable and trusting, and we needed to be more alert. But you'd passed, and she was proud of you."

Jane shook her head, amazed at how adeptly Shepherd had twisted the situation, but not doubting her brother's word in the slightest. That's exactly what she'd do. Anything to avoid admitting she was anything but perfect.

Roman continued, "You didn't know how to react. Shepherd's always been hard to please, so we were thankful for any praise she gave us. But you were still pissed about what she'd done, too. So you told her to never touch the coin again, and then you started cleaning up the mess I'd made." He gave Jane a humourless smile. "Turns out that's kind of a theme with us. Me messing up, and you fixing it."

Jane was speechless for a few seconds, still processing how manipulative Shepherd had been. It shouldn't have surprised her, after everything she'd seen and remembered of the woman, but she was sickened every time she learned something new from their terrible childhood.

"I'm glad I never have to see her again. She was an awful mother." The words were relatively mild, but she threw enough emotion into them to give them weight.

Roman closed his hand around the coin again. "I wish it were that simple for me. After you graduated high school, you were gone a long time. At home, it was just me and Shepherd. Good memories and bad."

"I'm sorry. If I could do it over, I'd get you away from her as soon as I was old enough." Why didn't Remi do that for him? Did Shepherd threaten to hurt him if she tried?

Roman stared down at his closed fist, avoiding her eyes, and said nothing.

Jane tried to lighten the mood a little. "I think our parents—the ones who gave us that coin—they'd be proud of what we did last week."

Roman scowled. "You don't remember them any more than I do. Not since you took the ZIP."

How could he miss the point so easily?

Jane sighed. "Roman, our parents were non-violent activists. I looked them up, after you and Shepherd told me my birth name. You must know they were kind of famous in their day, right? Around Cape Town, anyway. That was why they were targeted."

Roman nodded, but his expression barely changed.

"They organised anti-apartheid marches, fundraisers, petitions… A couple of their rallies got a little out of hand, but as far as I could find, they weren't directly involved in that. They got arrested a few times, but I guess that comes with the territory of being at the head of anti-establishment campaigns. They never hurt anyone."

Was she even getting through to him? He was staring down at the coin, avoiding her eyes.

"If they were still alive somewhere, and they somehow heard that we'd stopped a nuclear attack and saved millions of innocent lives, there's no way they wouldn't be proud of us. I don't remember them anymore, but I have to believe that."

"Maybe," Roman grudgingly agreed.

Jane wished she could hug him, but didn't want to risk hurting him any more than he already was. Instead, she changed the subject—from the past, to the future. "So did you have any thoughts about taking up Kurt's offer of a consulting job?"

He ran a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable in an entirely different way. "Yeah… I don't think so."

She wasn't surprised, but couldn't help but be a little irritated anyway. "You can't make money any other way right now. Not until you're back on your feet. I can support you a little, but—"

"You don't have to," he interrupted.

"Then how—?" she began.

"I knew we were gonna stop Shepherd. I knew the FBI were gonna freeze all the accounts. I moved some stuff around, hid some money where I can get it later."

"Roman!" Jane's voice emerged louder than she'd meant it to, and she took a calming breath before asking, "How the hell did you sneak that past Weitz? The polygraph…"

Roman smirked. "I would have admitted to it, if he'd asked if I was hiding cash. He didn't ask. Their loss is my gain."

Speechless, Jane tried to calm her racing thoughts. The sheer risk he'd taken… No. Just don't think about it. He passed the polygraph. He has immunity. That's all that matters.

"What if Shepherd had noticed?" she hissed quietly. "How much did you take?"

"Five figures. I could have taken more, but I didn't."

He spoke as though his restraint balanced everything out. Jane decided not to ask if the total was closer to ten thousand dollars, or ninety-nine thousand. How can I fix this? How can I protect him, if they find out later? If they use the MRI polygraph again, on either one of us?

Will Kurt forgive me, if he finds out I was hiding this? After everything that's happened…

"You can't spend it, Roman. They'll be watching you, and using money taken from a terrorist network? That has to be worth jail time. I thought you wanted a fresh start."

"They won't find out. I'm careful. How do you think Shepherd was funding Sandstorm? She taught me how to keep under the radar."

Jane groaned. "That was before they knew everything! Once you move out of here, the FBI, NSA, CIA, god knows who else—they'll all be watching you. Not just general watching for signs of suspicious activity. They'll be watching you specifically, Roman, because they know what we were planning to do before we switched sides. You won't be able to get away with the things you could before. They'll bug your communications, they'll watch your movements, what you spend, how much you earn and how—I've been watching Patterson do this since I came out of the bag, and they'll know."

He glared up at her, resentment and anger in his eyes. "So what do you expect me to do? They froze all of my accounts, without asking what was from legal jobs. That's theft if anyone else does it, but since it's law enforcement, it's legal. I'm too wounded to get a regular job right now, so what other alternative do I have, except hanging off the FBI's teat, like you are?"

Jane drove her fingernails into her palms, her anxiety rapidly becoming rage. "Hanging off the FBI's teat? I didn't know my own name when I got to them. I didn't know I had a bank account or a home. I didn't have any other choice, and by the time I did find out who I was, I couldn't use my old resources, because Shepherd was worried Patterson would find out. I've only been in a position to choose what I do with my life for a few days, and I've spent those days fighting to keep you and Shepherd away from Keaton. But now you want to spit on the fresh start I helped you get, and start your new life with embezzled terrorist funds? I can't believe you!"

"You think they'd throw me in a black site over this, and you still want to work for these people?"

"I don't work for the CIA. I will never work for the CIA." The thought sickened her to the core, several of her traumatic nightmares pressing to the forefront of her mind without her consent. Nightmares where she'd been the torturer, and her friends the screaming victims.

"Please. The FBI's not that much better. All cops are bastards, Jane. You used to know that." He smiled bitterly, no trace of humour in his eyes, and his sarcastic use of her chosen name made her flinch.

"Not my team. You met them today. You were watching them for months before I even got tattooed. They're good people."

"And I'm not, just because I don't want to let them take every penny I have?"

Jane bit her tongue before she could say something that would really damage their relationship, and changed tack. "You need to look like you're broke. I was gonna spot you some cash to get you on your feet, if you wouldn't take the FBI's money—but they've been housing me, so they deducted that from my pay. I have a little money saved, but not enough to explain it if you start spending too much. I can only give you a few hundred, and not all at once."

"You don't have to give me anything." Roman sighed. "I shouldn't have told you. Should have known you'd freak out."

"No, I'm glad you told me, so I could warn you off. But if they arrest you for this, and Nas makes me take another polygraph to see if I was helping you hide terrorist funds…"

That made him freeze, as though he hadn't considered the effect his actions would have on her. Jane felt a creeping sense of déjà vu, though she couldn't remember specific instances in their past that were similar.

She wanted to keep pressing her point—to make him agree not to endanger them both by touching the cash—but from the trapped look on his face, and the way his gaze kept straying towards the door, she knew he'd reached his limit. This wasn't a fight she could win. He had to decide for himself, as an adult man in control of his own life—and that scared the hell out of her, because she didn't know if he was even capable of keeping out of trouble.

Shakily, Jane got to her feet, knowing he'd storm out if she didn't leave the room first. Her pride would recover much more easily than his injured body.

"I won't tell Kurt, or any of them. I'm on your side, Roman, but you have to be smart about this. Patterson might look the other way, for my sake—but Nas won't, and neither will Keaton. They'll be waiting for any excuse to take you in. Don't give them one."

He didn't reply, and she closed the door a little too forcefully on her way out.

Kurt was chopping vegetables for a stir fry when Jane stalked through the living room towards the French doors, stress held in every muscle of her body.

"Hey—you okay?" he asked, concerned.

Jane paused with one hand on the door, glancing over with a weak attempt at a smile. "Sibling fight. Don't worry about it. It's just been… Today was…a lot."

"Need to talk about it?" he asked, setting down the knife.

She shook her head, pulling open the door to the balcony. "Thanks, but…no. I just need a few minutes to think. Call me when the food's ready?"

"Sure."

Jane closed the glass door between them with an apologetic attempt at a smile, then turned her back on him to lean against the railing. She gazed out at the Brooklyn Bridge with a sigh he saw, but couldn't hear.

Kurt returned his attention to the food, knowing both siblings would feel better after a meal, even if they ate in separate rooms. He and Sarah had lived together as adults for long enough that friction had been inevitable, even with Sawyer as a buffer between them. A couple of their fights had been bad enough to drive one of them out of the apartment for the night.

It was understandable that Jane and Roman wouldn't see eye to eye about certain things, especially on the day their mother had been sent to supermax. Kurt got the feeling Roman was starting to pull away, to let his guilt about helping to betray his mother come between him and Jane. Or maybe it was his own offer to pay Roman for his help that was the problem.

I just hope it's something they can work out. Jane will never forgive herself if he disappears on her.

He was almost ready to start transferring ingredients to the wok when he heard the guest bedroom door open. A little surprised, Kurt waited to see if Roman would appear, and fought to keep his expression neutral when he did.

Roman cast an unreadable glance out towards Jane, who was still standing with her back to them, before easing down onto one of the breakfast bar's stools. "Hey."

"Roman." Starting to cook would have required him to turn his back, shutting down the conversation before it had a chance to start—and for some reason, Roman seemed to want to talk. Kurt nodded towards Jane instead. "You guys had a fight, huh?"

Roman glanced over his shoulder, sighing, then returned his attention to Kurt. "You ever piss off your sister that bad?"

Kurt studied Jane's posture for a moment. "Close, but I could never quite get there. My sister was younger than me."

Roman gave him a blank look. "Why does that matter?"

"I was raised thinking Sarah was my responsibility. I was her big brother; I had to protect her. That's what big brothers do. And that's why I was the one who was always more pissed at Sarah than she could ever be with me. Because I was worried."

Roman turned sideways in his seat, keeping his focus on Jane. "You don't think younger kids worry about their older siblings? That's bullshit."

"Sure, they worry. Sarah practically worries for a living. And I can't speak for every family. But I know mine. And I see how Jane is with you."

Roman looked back at him. "So what's your point?"

"I don't know what you guys fought about, but I can tell it's something pretty serious. And I'm not asking you to tell me," he added, before Roman could interject. "That's between the two of you. But Jane? She's angry because she's worried about you. I don't know what exactly the issue is, but it's pretty obvious where she stands. She wants to protect you, from Shepherd, or the CIA, or yourself, or… I don't know. Life."

Roman was frowning in his sister's direction. "What if she's being overprotective?"

Kurt busied himself heating the oil in the wok. "I'm not getting in the middle of this one. But if it were me and Sarah? I'd be thinking it's better to be a little cautious than to risk something bad happening to her."

Roman was silent, and Kurt let the conversation lapse as the sizzle of the stir fry filled the air. A few minutes later, he shut off the heat and reached for the dishes, honestly surprised to still see Roman sitting in his peripheral vision.

As Kurt transferred the food to three separate dishes, Roman watched his every move. It was a little unnerving, but years in the interrogation room had given Kurt a sense of when to remain quiet, and now was one of those times.

After a few more seconds, Roman said, "I'll take the offer. The, uh, consultant position you mentioned earlier."

Kurt's brows rose, but he somehow managed to keep his facial expression relatively neutral. "Gotta say, I wasn't expecting that."

"Yeah, well." Roman frowned down at the plate Kurt slid across to him. "Honestly, I don't want to. The job or the safehouse. That's putting it mildly."

Kurt nodded. Roman's dislike of the government, and of law enforcement, was no secret. Even if Kurt hadn't spent this morning witnessing his polygraph with Weitz, he would have known that Roman didn't want to take any help the FBI had to offer.

Roman continued, "But I figure Jane has enough to worry about, without having to lend me money she could probably use. As soon as I'm healed up enough to get a job doing something else, I'll do that. But right now, I don't have much of a choice."

Kurt allowed himself a small smile. "I think Jane will appreciate it."

It was an understatement—he knew it would be a huge relief to Jane—but Roman would probably have been pissed if he'd said anything more enthusiastic.

"You want to grab her, or shall I?" Roman asked, indicating their meal.

Kurt gestured towards the door. "You should probably tell her what you decided. Just don't take too long, or the food'll get cold."

Roman gave him a brief smile that was mostly a grimace, and stood up. "Be right back."

Kurt began to transfer their plates from the breakfast bar to the dinner table, since it seemed they'd all be eating together. The next time he glanced towards the balcony, Jane was holding Roman tightly, profound relief evident in her body language, and resignation in Roman's.

Both siblings had lost a parent today—Jane swearing never to visit Shepherd in prison, and Shepherd verbally disowning Roman—but at least they had each other.

Author's Note: That was the last Roman-heavy chapter, though he will be mentioned in passing again before the end. And I swear, that was the last time I'll be writing a Kurt cooking scene, too! Next up: a quick trip to Mayfair's memorial service, because she didn't get a proper one in canon.