AN: I know, I know. It's been a while…but I have been busy, and well I have to say that while I like writing this story, I love writing my Mediator…but I tried to give you a longer chapter than usual. I'll try to update sooner that last time!

Enjoy!

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John knocked on the door to room 325; this was it—Jane's room.

"Come in," someone said in a small voice. John walked in slowly and prepared to find Jane with her mother. But when he saw her, she was all alone.

"Hi," she said meekly while trying to sit up in her bed. She looked tired to John, but smiled at him nonetheless when he sat down.

"How are you feeling?" John asked while leaning forward in the uncomfortable chair. He was right next to the bed, close enough to touch her if she were to need comforting.

"A little weak," Jane admitted with a small smile, "but safe." John smiled at Jane and she blushed a little. "Thank you," she said quietly to him and John saw that her eyes were filled with tears.

"You're welcome. I'm just glad I got to you when I did," he said and with that Jane leaned forward and placed her hand on John's, which was resting on his knee.

"Thank you so much," she said again, and John looked up into her eyes. Jane's cheeks were dripping salty tears, and John lifted his hand to wipe them away. Her eyes smiled up at him while his big hand clutched her cheek gently.

"Where are your parents?" John asked, breaking the silence and the connection.

"Oh, well the Social Services have contacted them. They didn't answer the phone when they called the first time, so they have been checking every twenty minutes."

"But they still live in the area?" John said, wanting to make sure that Jane would have a safe and secure home to go back to.

"Yes." Jane looked over at him, and he got lost in her eyes. They looked so nice and kind, but John also saw pain. She was lost and John knew it. However, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out quickly while muttering a cuss word under his breath.

"Hello?" He answered, not checking the caller ID.

"John?" It was Jane, and she sounded nervous.

"Jane? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just—" She stopped, there was a loud rustling noise in the background.

"Jane? Jane?" John yelled anxiously into the phone. "Jane! Are you there?"

The line cut off and John stared down at his phone. It wasn't Jane's cell phone number flashing up on the screen. It was some weird area code—certainly not the LA area code. Looking up at Jane sitting in the hospital bed, he felt even more worried.

"Who was that?" Jane asked her eyes lighting up.

"My wife." John said, still slightly shocked at the disturbed call.

"Jane?"

"Yes," he said and then snapped back. He should not be disclosing personal information about himself. It was just unethical.

He got up quickly and smiled down at Jane, who was looking up at him, pure admiration in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said again with a smile.

John bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek, and with that he fled the room, pulling out his cell phone when he got into the hallway.

He stared down at the number while running out to the car waiting to take him to the airport. John needed to get to Wingate, because she would have her laptop, and could trace the number, and then he could get to Jane.

John pushed call, and held the phone up to his ear while he called Jane back. It rang and rang, and then finally someone picked up and said something weird. It sounded like some Russian-y language. Oh good God.

Four big hands were pulling her away from the pay phone she had used to call John. Jane couldn't do anything to fight them; they were big and hairy Russians—enough said. All Jane could do was watch the phone disappear into the throngs of people in the airport.

Suddenly, the men stopped dragging her, and set her up on her feet again. She took a deep breath and then wiped her ears clean of the sudden unset of tears. Tears for herself, her loss last night, the fact that she had made a fool out of herself, and for John, for she wanted to be in his arms now more than ever.

"Don't move," one of them said to her threateningly. Jane looked around nervously and then realized that for the first time in her life, since her parents had died, she was afraid. What if Shnigovlf went back on his word and killed her before she could get onto the plane? What if his cronies would drug her and then take her to one of his warehouses? What if—wait, now she was just being irrational.

Jane could take care of herself. She always had been able to. This time was nothing different.

"When does my plane leave?" Jane asked while checking her wrist for her watch. It wasn't there. Hmmm, she must have not put it on that morning. Funny, she always put it on.

"I don't know," the Russian said slowly and in a thick accent. "Wait here, while I go check." The stupid crony went up to the screen to check what time Jane's flight left. The other crony just held onto Jane's upper arm while looking around at some of the flight attendants walking around the terminal. Jane snorted under her breath and tried to replay all the shit that had happened that night.

She cursed under her breath. The crony came back and said something to the one holding her arm. Jane didn't catch it because she had still been thinking about last night.

"Let's go," one of them said shortly and took her by the arm again. They walked briskly through the terminal for what seemed like ages. And in her high heels, Jane's feet were beginning to hurt, and so was her arm. I'm going to have a bruise there, she thought while scanning the faces around her out of habit.

Finally they reached her stop, just as they were boarding the plane. Jane snatched her arm away from the crony and held out her hand for her things to the other.

"Thank you gentlemen," she spat in Russian. Then after gathering her small tote she walked onto the plane, hoping that she would never have to go back to Russia again.