Jane feels safe for the first time in forever.

Enveloped in his arms, choking on the water in her lungs, body still almost seizing, her mind somehow lets it all go; everything around her, what had just happened. All she knows is Weller has taken over, that she doesn't have to suffer anymore, can stop drowning.

How many times had she been waterboarded in her short new life? How many times in her old one? At least she'd remembered the lessons, that pain is dream. The trauma and the fear though, that was real, still is real for her. She could be given back to the CIA at any point, would have to try and end things on her own terms at that point.

It hasn't come to that though, even crazier, she's been making headway with her team, with Kurt. Which was why she had done it, would always do it. They are all that she has, no matter how suspicious they've been about her. Honestly, she can't blame them. She doesn't trust herself. So she's only set one goal – for her team to make it through unscathed; she has no hope for herself.

She couldn't have let it happen to her them, not when she's been trained, has withstood it so many times already. She's battle tested, already fucked up in mind and body. So of course Jane had risen to the challenge, gone at it hard.

She had disarmed the leader of the group, jumping through her cuffs to bring her hands forward and then rushing at him with a low attack and bringing him to the ground with a few well placed kicks. Then she'd taken out another couple guys before reinforcements showed up to finally pin her down to the bench and reattach the handcuffs above her head, cover her nose and mouth with a dirty rag.

Of course they had then all gleefully drowned her in her turn, soaking her with the hose before directing it at her mouth and throwing her into an endless cycle of drowning and extremely painful gasping. Occasionally they had punched and kicked her in retribution even as she choked and shivered uncontrollably, couldn't breathe.

It had been worth it though, she'd held out, hadn't given up any of the information they wanted, hadn't said a single word. Even managed to buy enough time for Weller and the others to get free, take down the remaining preoccupied terrorists before they figured out she wasn't going to tell them anything.

Then Kurt had uncuffed her hands, plucked her up off the bench, brought her over to the corner of room, uncharacteristically leaving Zapata and Reade in charge of everything else.

After that he'd undressed her, madly muttering to himself as he'd pulled her wet clothes off, ran his eyes all over her body. Jane had been frozen the entire time it had been happening; still coughing uncontrollably, both physically and mentally stuck. But she could see the worry in his eyes, feel the intensity of his concern as he has her nearly naked before wrapping her in his huge FBI jacket.

And now he has her gathered to him, embarrassingly cradled in his arms. But she has no strength to fight it and in truth she doesn't want to. At least they are far away from everyone else, unseen by any eyes as he whispers frantically in her ear.

"What were you thinking, Jane?" he asks, sounding desperately frustrated even now. "Why would you do that?"

But then he seesaws straight to a settled soothing tone, brushes his lips against her forehead as he rocks her a little.

"You're okay, you're safe now. No one is going to hurt you anymore, I've got you."

It's like he's trying to convince himself too, Jane can feel his chest heave long breaths as she shivers, her body frozen with trauma. She wants to let go, fall into the safety he's offering her but her muscles still resist her mind's commands.

Over and over he says some version of those words; the pleading, questioning ones first, followed by the quiet calming ones. It goes on so long it becomes almost meditative until, finally, her muscles stop firing so intensely, begin to settle down.

Eventually she's spent enough time cocooned in the safety of Weller's embrace that she hears his words as discrete sentences again, not just a steady intonation of Kurt-ness that makes her feel warm inside.

"Why did you do it?" he asks, for the millionth time. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I had to," she finally replies, her voice shaky. "I'm okay."

Weller looks at her, clearly startled to hear a response after so many iterations where she'd just lain shaking in his arms.

"Jesus, Jane. You are not okay," he breathes. "No one can be okay after that, especially not you."

"I'm fine, Kurt," she replies, trying to take the tremble out of her voice. "You can let go of me."

But then she finds herself burrowing her head into his chest instead of pushing herself away from him, isn't ready to leave his solid warmth

"They hurt you," he says, sounding so wounded by it that she winces.

She knows he's not just talking about what just happened, the impromptu lengthy waterboarding session she'd just endured. He'd finally seen everything, what she hid away under long sleeves. Had stripped her bare in more ways than one.

Jane had irrationally hoped to keep those marks unseen forever, known only to herself. It makes her feel so exposed to know that Weller's seen them, the ugliness etched on her skin. She's so ashamed she wants to crawl away but knows he would never let her.

"It's nothing," she replies, barely audible.

Kurt answers by opening the jacket just a touch, drawing his eyes over the dramatic scarring on her torso. She can feel his horror in the way he inhales slowly, then forgets to exhale.

"I'm so sorry," he gasps when he finally starts breathing again. "It was my fault."

She'd wanted it to be his fault, wanted to pin it on him. At first she'd railed against him in her mind. Why hadn't he just let her explain? After everything they'd been through together. She thought she'd earned that at least.

Then the pain and lies had begun and in her most demoralized state she'd finally understood.

She had done it. To him, to herself. None of the rest made any real difference. How much she loved him, whatever it was he had felt for her.

She was a terrorist. She had plotted against Weller and Mayfair and deserved all the punishment that could be heaped on her for her part in Mayfair's death. Maybe the price should have been within the law, not paid out in flesh and screams in a CIA black site. But whatever the cost, she was the one who had to pay it.

"No Kurt," Jane says, sinking into the undeserved comfort of his arms.

"This is all on me."