Author's Note: Sorry it's taken a couple of days to get this one up - I wanted to make sure I got all my facts straight so I rewatched all of Jane's scenes with Oscar and took notes before I started writing this chapter. Anyway, Jane still has more to confess after this chapter, so I'm sorry if this recap is getting a bit tedious! There are just so many little angsty moments I wanted to pull out of it. :D

Jane attempted to sit cross-legged on the bed, but winced and abandoned the idea, stretching her legs out in front of her instead. Since the moment Kurt had first noticed her injuries, she'd been giving small, unconscious signs that she was in pain. For her to be telegraphing it so plainly, she must really be suffering; she had always been stoic about her injuries.

God, if only he'd found her earlier…

"Weller?"

"Hmm?" Had she said something?

"You're really not going to like what I have to say next, but I'm gonna have to untie you sometime."

He read the unspoken implication in her words. "Let me guess. It's an arrestable offence."

Jane's face darkened. "Three months of CIA torture is equivalent to at least a decade of time served in a medium security prison. Trust me."

She had a point. "I won't arrest you. At least, not within the next forty-eight hours. That's the best I can say without knowing specifics."

Jane didn't move or speak.

"I give you my word."

After a few moments of contemplation, she got to her feet and came around the bed to stand in front of him. As she loosened first one bond, then the other, Kurt noticed her fingernails all had bloody bruises underneath them, and her pinkie fingers were swollen and slightly crooked. Still, she didn't let on how much pain she must have been in as she worked on the knots.

She smelled like an unfamiliar soap that didn't suit her, but underneath that was a scent that stoked his instinct to put his arms around her and hold on tight. He'd missed her. Even knowing she'd betrayed him and the team in some way, he couldn't deny the way she made him feel at close range.

The instant he was free, she backed out of reach, warily taking her place on the bed once more. If she hadn't, he wasn't sure what he might have decided to do.

Rubbing each of his wrists in turn, Kurt said, "Go on."

"Oscar…" She paused, then shook her head, a determined expression crossing her face. "Oscar told me I had given him missions to give to me, once I was in play at the Bureau. That the FBI were doing some terrible things and that we were the ones on the side of good."

Irritated, Kurt opened his mouth to ask what, exactly, he and his team had done to make her believe Oscar was right. Before he could speak, Jane held up her hand.

"If we stop to debate everything he said, I'll never get through this. Just let me tell you, and we can argue later."

Kurt folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"The first thing he did was give me a pen. It was an exact replica of Mayfair's, and he asked me to switch them."

Remembering one of the pieces of evidence Weitz had thrown at Mayfair when he'd arrested her—an incriminating note supposedly written with Mayfair's own pen—Kurt couldn't help himself. "Goddamn it, Jane, how could you?"

"It was just a pen!" she protested, her eyes filling with tears. "I took it home and I took it apart. I looked for bugs, trackers, anything that could be used against Mayfair, but there was nothing. I stared at it for hours, but it was just a pen. It never occurred to me that a specific pen could be traced back to a piece of writing. I just assumed Oscar was testing me with something inconsequential, to see if I could be trusted with more."

"And what did he offer you in return for planting evidence in Mayfair's office?" He couldn't keep the contempt out of his voice. They had trusted her, and she'd betrayed them.

"I had asked if the bearded man who'd been shot at my safehouse was one of Oscar's group. I wanted to understand what had happened there. He refused to answer until I brought him the other pen. Which I also took apart, by the way, to make sure there was nothing inside it."

"And was he?" At the mention of the night she'd been attacked at the first safehouse, the memory of the tooth she'd lost came back to him. He was going to have to come clean about Patterson's test. If Jane was going to be honest with him, she should expect no less from him. But not now. It would derail her confession.

"Yeah. His name was Markos. Oscar said he was talking about the FBI when he told me I couldn't trust 'them', but later I found out he'd turned on the group and he was trying to warn me."

"So they killed him." Kurt tried fixing that part of the puzzle in his memory, but got the feeling it would be lost amid many other pieces by the end of this conversation. He turned and spotted a motel-branded notepad and pen on the desk, and jotted it down. "When did you replace the GPS chip in the car?"

"No. We're skipping too far ahead."

He frowned at her.

"The same night I brought him the pen, Oscar told me what Orion is."

"A military operation, right? Black ops?"

Jane looked stunned. "You've known this whole time and you didn't tell me?"

"Not this whole time. Mayfair left a USB key with a ton of files on it. Orion. Daylight, which is—"

"I know about Daylight. I remembered when I met… Ugh. I'm getting ahead again."

Kurt gestured to her to continue. "So he told you about Orion. What did he say about it?"

Jane looked haunted. "He said it's where I died. A mission that went sideways, and I went off the grid. I assume that means whoever I was back then is registered as killed in action. But he said that Orion is why I was there, why we were all there. That's all he'd tell me. You probably know more about Orion than I do."

"There's a lot of encryption and redactions in the files Mayfair left us. We don't know as much as you'd think. Only that it was a Navy SEAL black ops unit that operated in the Middle East. We're working on it."

Jane nodded slowly, filing away the information.

"Go on." Kurt started a separate page for Jane's identity, and underlined the word 'Orion'.

She sighed. "Then Fischer barged in on his mole hunt. Obviously, I wasn't the Russian mole he was looking for, because he was the mole, but that didn't change the fact that I was a mole for someone else. I told Oscar that was it. I was out. I was done. Because I was loyal to you, and to Mayfair, and to our team."

Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. She'd dipped her toes in the water, trying to be the person she used to be, but as soon as she realised the seriousness of the situation, she tried to pull back out. That meant something.

It had to mean something, because he needed her to be innocent, an unwitting pawn. He needed her.

Well, she wasn't in handcuffs just yet. At least that was a good thing.

"I appreciate that you tried to do that. I'm guessing it didn't work?" His voice was rough. She couldn't tell what was going on in his mind.

"No. It didn't work." Jane rubbed at one of her bruises, only making it feel worse. The pain felt justified, though. She'd been so stupid. "Oscar told me that the people higher up in the organisation had threatened to kill you if I didn't do what he asked."

Weller stood up and paced across to the window, pushing the curtain aside a little to check outside. Without looking at her, he said, "My life was in danger, and you still didn't think it would be a good idea to tell me about it?"

"That was exactly why I didn't want to tell you about it. What if telling you made things even worse? What if they contacted you and threatened your family? Your clearance was higher than mine. They could have got you to get into things I didn't have access to."

"You think I would be blackmailed into breaking the law? You think so little of me?" Kurt turned to scowl at her.

"No one knows what they'll do until it comes right down to it. I wouldn't have thought I could be coerced either, but given the choice between doing some small things I couldn't see the consequences of, and losing you…"

Either he would accept that her intentions had been good, or not. She couldn't force his opinion one way or the other.

"Did you know your group was threatening Sarah and Sawyer?"

Nausea churned in her gut. "What? No! When? Why?"

"After you shot Fischer, Reade went to Mayfair and told her he was suspicious of your story the night of Carter's murder. She asked him to investigate, and he managed to find a moment on CCTV that showed Oscar driving Carter's car, just before it was found. Somehow, they found out. Reade was told to stop investigating, or they'd kill Sarah and Sawyer."

Jane stared at him. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

Baffling her, he smiled slightly. "Yeah? Well, neither did I until after you'd been taken by the CIA. They kept me out of it, and Reade broke up with Sarah to keep her safe. Then she moved to Portland, so they backed off Reade and threatened Mayfair after killing the woman she was dating."

That soothed the sting a little. If he hadn't known, he couldn't have shared it with her before now. "I'm glad they're safe."

"Me too." He came to sit on the end of the bed.

Something wasn't adding up, though. Jane frowned at him. "How did Reade know it was Oscar driving Carter's car?"

Weller hesitated, as though he hadn't meant to reveal something and been caught out. "I found your notebook a couple of weeks ago. The one you sketched him in."

Oscar wasn't the only person she'd sketched in that book, she recalled with dismay. What did Kurt think of her now, knowing she doodled pictures of the men she found attractive in her spare time? She must seem flighty and ridiculous to him.

Then she remembered drawing herself, and writing her own pre-ZIP words below the sketch. You did this to yourself.

"Then you knew before you found me that it was my own idea to wipe my memory and send myself to you."

Weller nodded.

"Why didn't you say so?"

He sighed. "I wanted to be sure you weren't leaving anything out. I didn't want to mention finding your notebook so I'd know if you were still keeping secrets."

She reached over and touched his hand, catching his attention. "I'm done keeping secrets from you. I know you have no reason to trust me anymore, but things can't possibly go any more wrong by telling the truth than they have by hiding it."

He allowed the touch for a couple of quiet moments, then drew his hand away. "Trust is gonna take time, Jane."

She rubbed her aching shoulder with a wry look, and he had the decency to look ashamed at the reminder of her torture. "Yeah. I know."