Author's Note: Sorry if this is a bit of a stilted chapter. It's a lot of relaying what we as viewers already know, but they do need to get it all out there before they can move on. Bear with me for now - by the next chapter, all those secrets should be out in the open. :)

Kurt's head was killing him—being pistol-whipped around the back of the head would explain that—but it was worth it. Jane was here in front of him, angry and defensive and wounded, but alive and free from CIA custody. Thank God.

"There's something I need to do before we start." She got up off the bed and tucked his handgun into the waistband of her pants, hiding it under the hem of her shirt. "Be right back."

Before he could respond, she opened the door to the room and left.

Perplexed, Kurt tested his bonds again, checking to see how good a job she'd done restraining him. The cloth around his left wrist was restricting his circulation a little. He worked his hand around, succeeding only in tightening the knot, but generating enough slack that he didn't have to worry about being injured.

There was no way he was getting out of these ties without help or chafing his wrists raw, though. Even off her game, Jane knew exactly what she was doing.

She came back in, closed and locked the door, then dropped a sandwich and a bag of candy on the desk. He must have looked confused, because she elaborated, "Hard to be stealthy when you're carrying food."

So that's why she hadn't been in the room when he'd knocked. He'd wondered if she'd already moved on, despite Kalina's intel. Thankfully, that hadn't been the case.

"Eat, if you want," he said. "I'm guessing they didn't give you great meals at the black site." She hadn't had any weight to lose, yet impossibly, she'd grown thinner.

Jane regarded the food for a moment before sitting back down on the bed. "Later."

He guessed she didn't want to let her guard down just yet. He didn't blame her.

"If they find me, will you even be able to hold them off?" She pulled out his gun and set it on the bed in front of her, within easy reach.

"I have Mayfair's job now. She always seemed to manage. I'll make it work."

Jane flinched, and he seized the opportunity to broach the subject, even as his gut told him he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Do you know where she is?"

Jane swallowed, not meeting his eyes.

"Jane."

"She's dead. I'm so sorry, Kurt."

The grief and defeat on her face would have once sent him rushing to enfold her in his arms. Now, even if he hadn't been tied up, he couldn't have moved towards her if she'd asked him to. His body and mind were at a standstill as he processed the words. His old friend and mentor was dead.

He'd suspected ever since Patterson had told him about the blood traces she'd found, but to have it confirmed without a doubt…

Later he would grieve. Later he'd cry. Right now, he needed answers.

"How? Who?"

"A man named Oscar shot her in the back." She still couldn't meet his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I tried to save her. I failed."

Oscar. The sketch in Jane's notebook flashed back into his mind, the unfamiliar face and his name written below it. Kurt's jaw clenched so hard it began to ache.

"Where do I find him?"

Jane straightened, finally looked at him, her expression hard. "I killed him."

Kurt stared back at her, and a moment of understanding passed between them. She'd avenged the woman who'd meant so much to him. To both of them, if his instincts were still right. It was difficult to trust himself around Jane now, but he didn't think he was reading her wrong.

And she'd killed the man they'd guessed was her fiancé. Did that surprise him? He didn't even know.

He wasn't going to tell her he'd found her notebook, though. If they got to the end of this heart-to-heart and she'd left out one piece of the information she thought he didn't know, they were done. She was out of his life for good.

"I'll tell you everything," she said, as though reading his mind, "but it won't make sense unless I start at the beginning."

Kurt shifted, wishing she'd untie him just so he could pace the room, turn away, avoid looking at that exhausted, bruised, defeated face. How could one person make him feel so conflicted?

Jane's body was aching, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her soul at having to tell Kurt that Mayfair was dead. She'd hoped maybe they'd found Mayfair's body in the burnt-out barn, that she wouldn't have to be the one to break the news.

Kurt was taking it well. Or maybe not taking it at all, putting it aside to deal with later. It was what she'd do in his situation.

"The beginning is the night you kissed me, right?"

Jane froze. He shouldn't have been able to pinpoint it so precisely, unless… "How do you know that?"

He shrugged. "Had a lot of time to think. You left my place early, but didn't have an alibi for Carter's murder when Fischer was trying to find a mole in the FBI. Plus, you changed after that night. I thought it was because of me, because of us. But it was more, wasn't it?"

Jane sighed and sat back against the headboard, awkwardly rearranging her pillows with her good hand. If she was going to be mentally uncomfortable, she might as well make herself as physically comfortable as possible.

"What happened that night, Jane?"

She'd imagined this conversation so many times that it was almost easy to begin. "Carter and his CIA lackeys grabbed me off the street on my way back from your place. They took me someplace close by but out of the way. Carter started to torture me, but before he could really hurt me, someone shot him dead."

"Someone." Kurt's face was impassive.

"He showed me a video of me talking to the camera. From before my memory was wiped. I had no tattoos; my hair was longer. I said that the man showing me the video's name was Oscar, that I could trust him. And…"

She took a breath, knowing how betrayed she'd felt by her past self. It would be so much worse for Kurt to know she'd targeted him on purpose.

"The recording of me said that the mission was going as planned. That I did this to myself. The tattoos. The memory wipe. It wasn't done to me. I wasn't a victim. I agreed to it."

Weller said nothing for a long moment. Then, "You've known it was your own plan to get all this tattooed on you, all this time."

She closed her eyes. "Yes."

"I was the lead agent on your case, Jane. It was my name tattooed on your back. You didn't think I needed to know this? Where was your head at?" His voice was that kind of low-key furious it had been the night he'd arrested her. She was all of a sudden very thankful she hadn't yet untied him.

"I screwed up, okay? I know."

"Yeah, you did. But that's not what I said. What was going through your head when you decided not to share this information with me?"

"What would you have done if you were me?" she shot back at him. "If you'd found out, you would have shut me out. You would have taken me off the team. You would have kept me at arm's length. The only people I knew before I met Oscar that night were you and your team, and your family. And I couldn't lose you, okay? I just couldn't. I'd already lost too much."

Silence fell between them. The raw emotion in the room made it hard to breathe. Jane covered her face with her hands and took a shuddering breath.

"I know it was selfish of me. If I could go back, I'd tell you straight away. I wish I had."

"I understand your reasons," Weller said, his voice flat. "But I don't know if I can forgive you."

"I don't know if I can forgive me, either." Jane looked down at her lap. Time to carry on with her story. Dwelling on her mistakes wasn't going to help. "I remembered Oscar. Not much, just flashes of memory. We'd been engaged before all this."

"And you trusted him?"

"No. He refused to answer most of my questions, said he was just following my orders. I didn't trust him, and I didn't trust me. The old me, I mean. But he was the only one who knew who I was, why I'd sent myself to the FBI. I needed those answers. He said he'd tell me more the next night, and not to trust the FBI, and he sent me home."

"That's why you weren't at the park," Kurt said, as if to himself.

Jane blinked. "I thought you weren't at the park." He was there? God, was I so clueless about relationships before my memory was wiped, too?

"Yeah, well, I lied." He stared over towards the door, avoiding her gaze, but she could sense his hurt.

"I wanted to meet you. I just didn't know how to tell you I had other plans the first night without my security detail."

"I guess it's better we didn't start anything back then, huh?"

His words felt like a punch to the gut. Rather than dwell on the wreckage of their relationship, she moved on.

"I asked Oscar if I was Taylor Shaw. He said I was."

Kurt scowled. "You believed him?"

"I believed you. Why would I have any reason not to? You told me my DNA was a match. Oscar only told me I wasn't Taylor right before I killed him. I came straight home from that burning barn and I was trying to call you the entire time. To tell you about Mayfair, and to tell you about Oscar, and to tell you about me. Do you believe that?" She sat forward, catching his eye. Willing him to trust her, at least about this one thing.

After a long pause, he said, "Yeah."

It was a start.