As always, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.
But this time it was due to the pain etched in her face, the way Jane collapsed into her seat as soon as they got back on the plane. The local anaesthetic she had injected on the plane ride to Zagreb had clearly stopped being effective after they had finally freed themselves from the duct tape situation. By the time they had made it back to the plane, she was holding her side protectively and was still clearly upset as well.
Everything had felt off, the entire mission. Even seeing the real clue had been the result of a mistake, had only happened because they were caught off guard by the other treasure hunters.
Normally he and Jane could have taken any other twosome, even with guns already drawn on them. But Weller had been so worried about her injury that his opponent had managed to elbow him in the jaw while he watched Jane get hit in the stomach before disarming her man. Then the resounding oof the blow had knocked out of him had sent Jane's eyes his way, just long enough for her opponent to recover his weapon and hold it to her head.
After that they had both accepted their duct tape fate without further struggle. Kurt could see the effect of the fight on Jane despite the numbing she'd put in her wound. Then there had been the physical struggle of getting free from the chairs and the long silent trek back to the plane where all he could think about was what she had said about him, about them.
She wasn't wrong. Weller recognized he was agreeing to do desperate things to get intel on Madeline because he saw it as his only route back to Bethany. But then again, Jane had been right the previous day too, when she was helping him through his trauma instead of getting caught up in her own. They hadn't ever wavered from their original goal, back when they had badges and weren't the victims of a huge set up. They had to stop Madeline from doing whatever it was she had planned. So even if a large part of his personal motivation to get dirt on Madeline came from the urgent need to see his daughter, at the core of it, he was still acting according to the values he'd always held. They needed to protect themselves, their families, and countless other innocent people from Madeline's scheme. They needed to bring her to justice and set things right again within the FBI.
Underneath all her anxiety, he knew that Jane felt the same way because he knew her heart. She had always been dedicated to doing the right thing. Yet he was starting to see why her self doubt had slipped in, because she'd previously gotten seriously off track about what the right thing was. And even though her words had stung at first, it was clear to him that they came from a place of worry, not judgment. She didn't want them to go astray and he loved that about her.
He wanted to pull her to him, hold her until she didn't look so lost. But he could tell she wouldn't welcome that at the moment, so all he had were his words.
"You're right, this isn't us. We're stealing from criminals for criminals," he said, giving voice to what was obviously in her head.
"Then why are we doing it?"
That was the big question, really. What kind of ends justified what they had done that day?
If it led them to stopping Madeline's plan, then it was definitely worth it. They could be saving the entire country from her grasp, including all of their loved ones.
"Because we don't have a choice if we want to stop Madeline."
"No, we can't keep telling ourselves that it's…" Jane argued.
He could hear all her self-doubt shouting out, her fear of repeating her past and dragging him down with her. It was overriding a key point though, one that he needed her to remember.
"I want nothing more than for us to be at home with Bethany. You know that. I wish we were building pillow forts, making pancakes right now, not on some scavenger hunt around Europe."
"But I refuse to let my daughter grow up in a world controlled by Madeline Burke. This isn't about us anymore. It's about everyone else.
Jane looked up at him then, her eyes still crushingly sad. But she seemed to have heard his words, his plea to her heart.
"The future," she said, with a little nod.
"Yeah."
He reached over to take her hand, her eyes still glossed over with sadness. But then she looked at him longingly when he kissed it and didn't let go afterwards.
They sat like that for a long time, with their hands in between them, his thumb rubbing hers. The silence between them was dense but comfortable and he was content to just watch her look out her window. That was until they suddenly hit some turbulence and Jane bounced in her seat then grunted in pain, grasping his hand harder while clutching at her abdomen with her other arm.
The plane continued to bounce them around for another few minutes and Weller watched carefully as his wife clenched her jaw and shut her eyes tight. When the turbulence finally abated, she still didn't change her position; remained fully rigid while breathing shallowly.
Kurt stood and crossed the aisle to crouch in front of Jane, still holding her right hand with his left and bringing his other hand up to brush away a stray lock of hair while running his thumb over her cheekbone.
She opened her eyes at his touch and he could still see the sorrow there but it was now hidden underneath a layer of pain.
"Let me see," he said, glancing down at the holding her stomach.
Jane shook her head, kept her arm firmly over her wound.
"It's okay," she said tiredly. "I'll take care of it when we're back at the bunker."
Weller frowned, brought his hand down from Jane's cheek and placed it on her wrist, then gently swung her arm away from her stomach, laying it beside her. She offered a bare minimum of resistance, nothing more than a token effort. Her eyes were downcast, looking at his hand holding the hem of her shirt.
"Let me look," he repeated.
Jane didn't argue so Kurt lifted her shirt up above her wound and gasped angrily when he saw the blood-soaked gauze.
"Jesus, Jane. It's bleeding a lot! Why didn't you say something?" he growled.
Jane exhaled tiredly, gave him a small shrug.
"It's not that bad," she said. "And I can't do anything about it until we're back."
"You should have still said something," he grunted, feeling sick to his stomach.
Jane looked out the window for a moment before finally facing him again. He could see the lines of pain and exhaustion etched in her skin, wanted to just cradle her to him until all her hurts were healed.
"I know," she sighed. "But I already said enough today. I didn't want you to worry."
"And you think hiding something like this from me is going to make me worry less?" Kurt asked with a frown, though his tone was affectionate, not upset.
Jane bit the lower corner of her lip and gave him a sheepish look that flooded him with adoration.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "For everything."
Weller could see the sadness start to slip over her again and desperately wanted to push it away. Especially because Jane was right and there wasn't anything they could do for her wound until they landed. So he had to at least meet her emotional needs.
Kurt let her shirt fall back down over the bandaging then brought his hand back up to her cheek.
"Shh, none of that," he admonished, running his thumb along her jawbone. "Just let me take care of you, okay?"
Jane nodded into his hand, with just a hint of a smile appearing as he leaned in to try and kiss her pain away.
###
The trip back to the bunker seemed to take forever, all the regular steps of avoiding detection suddenly grating on Jane as her side ached and her energy waned. By the time she made it into the elevator, she was clutching her stomach in pain, unable to hide it at all anymore.
Jane leaned against the back of the elevator car, her eyes closed for the entire ride. She was looking forward to the door opening and seeing Kurt, despite how worried she knew he would be.
He had not wanted to separate after leaving the jet but she had insisted that they follow their usual protocol, despite the intensity of his pleas. Her aching wound was bleeding but not dangerously, unlike the previous day. So she'd deemed it far too big a risk to travel with Kurt back to the bunker, despite her desire to cling onto him for comfort. Which he hadn't liked one bit, frowning at her as she'd walked away, forcing herself to move as normally as she could.
Jane felt the elevator hit bottom and took a deep breath before opening her eyes. Then the doors opened too and, as predicted, her husband was standing there with a furrowed brow and vivid blue eyes.
"You made it," he said, exhaling loudly and stepping towards her.
"Yeah, everything went fine, just like I said it would," Jane chided.
Yet when she stepped into his arms and he folded them around her, Jane also felt more relief than she wanted to admit. She could feel blood seeping out of her wound, was pretty sure she'd torn at least a few stitches in the day's adventures. And the overall toll of running around Europe one day after impromptu bullet removal was really beginning to set in.
"You're exhausted," Kurt muttered into her hair.
Jane nodded while buried into his chest, was too tired and achy to push away his protectiveness any longer. Kurt responded by kissing her on top of her head, pulling her in even tighter somehow.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he said. "Then you can rest while we wait for news from Rich and Patterson. They just landed in Ireland."
She just wanted to stay in his arms for a moment, pretend everything was okay, that Kurt would take care of it all. It wasn't a place she went to emotionally very often, but the strain of the day, along with the insanity of the previous day had left her fully exposed.
But she didn't want to scare Kurt any more than she already had so Jane just nodded again, let him pull her towards the medical supply room.
She leaned against a table while Kurt dug around for supplies, collected way more than was needed. Then he put everything on the table and stood in front of her, his fingertips on the hem of her shirt.
"I'm going to look, okay?" he said, as gentle as always.
Jane nodded, felt a quick shiver run through her as he raised her shirt up past the bloody bandaging and made an upset, disapproving sound. But Kurt didn't pause for long before unwrapping the dressings and exposing the obvious problem. She had torn a few stitches in the edge of her wound and blood was continuously seeping out
"Damn it looks like we have to re-stitch that. Can we even after so long?" he asked, his frown deepening.
"Actually it's been less than forty-eight hours so yeah," she replied with a huff of amusement. "It's better than leaving it open and letting bacteria in. Did you get the suture kit?"
"Yeah, but I couldn't find any more lidocaine."
Oh right, she had taken the last of it on their mission across Europe, somehow already used up Patterson's ample stock of it. Jane sighed and reminded herself to replenish their supply, then looked up at Kurt and shook her head.
"I think I used it all today," she admitted, annoyed yet again at what they had been through. She had felt uneasy about it all from the start and now they were still on the hunt for the paintings, all because they had walked into a man's home and killed him.
It was fitting that the day would end for her with more pain; it was penance in a way.
"I'll look again, I'm sure Patterson has something else we can use," Kurt said, already turning around to start his search. But Jane reached out and grabbed his hand before he could step away.
"It's fine," she said firmly. "It's just a couple of stitches."
Kurt made a pained look, tried to walk away to look for another anaesthetic but she held onto his hand, wouldn't let go.
"Kurt, It's okay. I just want it to be done."
He was still giving her the same distraught expression but his eyes shifted towards acquiescence and finally he sighed while stepping back and grabbing some supplies off the table with his one free hand.
"Okay, fine," he grumbled. "Let's put you in bed though, I'll do it there and then you can get some rest."
That actually sounded like heaven to her at the moment, if she just glossed over the part where the sutures had to be redone. Jane nodded and offered him a small smile that Kurt frowned away. But he did squeeze her hand extra tight as he tugged her towards their bunks.
Once the door to their room was shut, Kurt took her to her bed and sat her down on the edge, carefully pulling her shirt off leaving her in just her usual sports bra. Jane shivered and he put his hand against the base of her neck to warm her, rubbed in just the right spot.
Jane took a deep breath and savoured the feeling of it, both of them relatively safe and together. Whatever happened she had never doubted Kurt. Just her own judgement about the situation. But she knew she hadn't made that clear enough in the moment. A lot had been happening in her head at that time and it had all come out wrong.
When she had stopped shaking Kurt kissed her gently before fluffing her pillow and putting it so she could lay comfortably across the bed with her feet on the ground still.
When she was lying in the easiest position for the procedure, he leaned over and kissed her again, was acting so sweetly towards her despite everything that had happened. Then he washed up and sterilized both the equipment and her wound.
Jane bit back a grunt at the feeling of the disinfectant on her wound, told herself just to breathe. She had been through much worse the previous day, some stitches were not going to be an issue.
It was Kurt though. And she felt bad in more ways than one.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice low and tight.
"Ready," she answered, as the needle pushed through skin and made her gasp.
"Sorry," Kurt said.
Jane grunted and shook her head at her husband, even managed a hint of a smile.
"Don't apologize, Kurt. It's not your fault how it feels. And it really isn't that bad, I'm just tired."
Kurt frowned but nodded too, put in the second suture much more confidently than the first. Then soon added a third, closing the wound up neatly again.
Jane managed to focus her attention away, tried to not feel too much at the needle and wire running through her flesh. She had certainly been through a lot worse in her lifetime and yet she still felt the pain, it still drained her to remain steady as Kurt worked.
He had been concentrating extremely hard, so focused he hadn't even been able to look at her during the suturing. But as soon as he was finished with the last one, he brought his hand to her jaw and rubbed his thumb against her cheek.
"All done," he said, his voice still heavy with worry.
"Thank you," she replied, reaching up for him with both hands.
He finally smiled for her then, a little one, along with a twitch of his eye.
"Lie down with me," she said, slipping her hand down into his and tugging. "Please."
Kurt slid in beside her and snuggled up close. For a long restful moment Jane just breathed him in, tried to remember the feeling of not being in an immediate crisis. It was really playing with her confidence, making her question her own tendency towards illegal activities.
But she hadn't meant to lay it on Kurt and she wanted to make sure he understood that before she fell asleep in his arms.
"I'm sorry about before," she started, all curled into him so she didn't have to see his eyes. "I think I said it wrong, I didn't mean to make you question yourself."
She paused for a moment, shushed Kurt when he tried to interject.
"But I don't think you should trust me on it. I mean look at my life, my past. That's why it's always meant so much to me, for you to think I'm a good person. Because you have such a strong sense of right and wrong. But it doesn't work the other way around, it means nothing if I think you're a good man. Of course I do, after everything I've done."
"Who am I to judge anyone?" she asked.
Kurt froze for a little while as she spoke but then started to breathe again his body still loose and warm against hers. When he answered, his voice was right up against her ear, so close it tickled.
"You're my wife. And you are a good person and I love you. Now I want you to stop worrying about all that," he said, trying to wash everything away the way he always did.
Jane sighed, wasn't willing to let it go so easily. He had to understand
"No, I mean it," she replied. "I just. I've just messed so many things up in my life. This is the one thing I can't mess up. I can't screw you up.'
"Oh Jane. Shhh, you're not going to screw anything up. I understand, you don't have to explain. Just let it go."
She still wanted to argue, tell him that was was sorry. But Kurt distracted her with his lips, kissed her as she still had her eyes closed,
"Come here," he said, pulling her in impossibly close. "You rest. Everything's going to be okay."
Rationally, Jane knew he was just saying it to soothe her anxious mind, that their lives were getting more precarious by the minute. Yet it still comforted her in the moment, hearing the promise in his voice; somehow made her feel safe even as she drifted to sleep with a bullet hole in her side.