Author's Note: Thank you to those of you who are still reading (and BIG thank you to those who are still giving feedback - you guys sustain me!). I'm easing off the smut for now, but of course there's going to be more, when Kurt feels better. They still have to have shower sex, and kitchen counter sex, and oops-we're-on-the-floor sex, and making-up-after-our-first-argument sex, and of-course-I'll-marry-you sex, and...
"I've seen most of the stuff in those action sequences in a hundred different movies," Jane protested.
"But this one did it first. Bullet-time was ground-breaking. It blew everyone's minds at the time." Kurt frowned at her, shaking his head. Then, after a moment's thought, a memory struck him. "Oh, wait—I get it now."
Jane waited, looking confused.
"When I was a teenager, my uncle told me never to watch The Exorcist. He said he'd seen it on the big screen when it first came out, and then he'd had to sleep with the light on for a week. So, of course, I decided I absolutely had to see it."
"It didn't scare you?" Jane asked.
"It was just like every other exorcism movie I'd watched, only with terrible special effects. But at the time my uncle saw it, nothing like it had been done before. And every single movie after it ripped it off." He rested his fingertips against Jane's temple, sighing ruefully. "You were robbed. The ZIP ruined The Matrix for you. I'm so sorry."
Jane laughed and gave him a quick kiss. "It's okay. It was cute to watch you being a fanboy. And the whole human battery part was pretty fun."
They lapsed into silence for a moment, just enjoying their time together, as the credits finished rolling. Kurt rested his cheek on the top of Jane's head, closing his eyes. Right now, everything was perfect.
When the DVD menu animation began to repeat, he reached for the remote and shut it off, knowing the short loop of music would start to grate on his nerves after a while. Before he could pull Jane back against him, she stretched her arms above her head with a sigh, then turned her body to face his.
"I guess I should get going; leave you in peace for a while."
Disappointment hit him like a punch to the gut. She wants to leave already? Still processing her unexpected words, he only managed to say, "Okay."
She gave him a quick smile and stood up. "I'll go get changed."
For a minute or so, Kurt remained where he was, trying to figure out if he was overreacting to her intention to leave. He'd assumed they could spend at least the next few days together, enjoying the week off Hirst had granted them, adjusting to their new dynamic while they recovered from everything that had happened. Jane didn't seem to feel the same way.
He tensed his muscles in preparation to get up, then paused, remembering the way he'd practically started pining for her the moment she'd left to go grocery shopping. The possessiveness he'd felt when she'd admitted she'd enjoyed pretending to be his wife when they'd gone undercover.
I'm overreacting. Jane needs her independence; she always has. I don't wanna stifle her.
This was new to him. Usually, he was the one planning to leave his previous girlfriends' apartments, citing other stuff he had to do, places he had to be. Sometimes it had been reluctantly, but it had always been his decision to go, and the women in his life had been the ones disappointed. This was so different.
God, I don't want her to go.
For a moment more, he sat frozen in indecision, torn between his wishes and his doubts. Then Jane's words from the night before came back to him. We're both so bad at relationships, it's a wonder we're sitting here like this at all. There's so much we didn't say, so much we didn't do.
In the past, he probably would have just let her leave—but the past had led to nothing but hurt, confusion and mixed messages, even earlier this week. He had to start being more honest about his feelings if he ever wanted that to change.
He headed into the bedroom, hoping his inner turmoil didn't show on his face. Jane was sitting on the end of the bed, dressed in her own clothes, tying one of her bootlaces. The shirt and sweatpants she'd borrowed from him were neatly folded beside her.
He leaned in the doorway to watch her, a wave of love easing some of his irrational nervousness. "You know you don't have to leave, right?"
She looked up, eyebrows raised a little in surprise. "I thought you'd need a little space by now."
Kurt shook his head. "Do you want to go? 'Cause I don't wanna crowd you, if you're the one who needs time to breathe."
"I, uh…" Jane looked down at her lap, then back up at him, her expression sheepish. "I don't know how this whole 'relationship' thing works. I don't think anyone would call what happened with Oscar a relationship. Then with Oliver, the only time he came over to my place, he stormed out within two minutes. The first time I went over to his place, we were both tranquilised and abducted pretty fast, so…this is uncharted territory for me. I don't remember ever learning when the person who stayed over is supposed to leave."
He crossed the room to sit beside her, taking her hand. "There's no real rule for that. It just depends on the people involved. But even if there was a set rule for it, I don't think we fit any kind of traditional relationship mould."
Jane shot him a quick, embarrassed smile. "Yeah, I guess not."
"I was hoping we could spend a few days together, now there's nothing left to get in our way." Why did it make him feel so vulnerable to admit that? Earlier this morning, he'd shown her how to jerk him off without a flicker of self-consciousness, but this—admitting how much he wanted her around—felt like he was offering her a free kick to his balls, and waiting to see if she'd take it.
And it was so much worse than if he'd offered that free kick to any other woman, because Jane had the power to hit his emotions just as hard as she'd be able to kick him in the balls. Not that he expected her to have suddenly fallen out of love with him, but it would hurt even to hear that she needed more room to breathe, even though he'd respect that wish.
Was Jane blushing? It was hard to tell with the bruises on her face. "Days? Kurt, I have no clean underwear."
Despite his nerves, Kurt couldn't help but flirt. "You say that like I care if you wear any."
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "To answer your question? No. I don't want to leave. I just thought that since this is your place, you might want to have it back for a while."
Kurt leaned in and kissed her, unable to express his relief any other way. She rested her hand lightly on his neck, kissing him back, and the skin-to-skin contact seemed as though it was helping to cleanse a decades-old wound that had never healed.
As though sensing the emotional storm raging within him, Jane slowly pulled back, her eyes concerned. "What?"
He put his hand over hers against his neck, not ready to lose her touch. "I was just gonna let you go, without saying anything. But then I realised that would have been no different from the other day, when I let you think I wanted you to go to California, and I… I don't want that kind of misunderstanding to get between us anymore."
Sighing, he finally met Jane's eyes, finding a dawning understanding growing there.
"I'm glad you said something," she said softly.
"When I first told you I loved you, without knowing if you'd feel the same, I was on the edge of passing out. I didn't know if I'd ever wake up, and I needed you to know the truth about how I felt. I didn't have that…that fear in me, because of everything that had just happened, I guess. And last night, when we talked about everything, it all still felt kind of unreal, like I was dreaming the best dream of my life. It didn't feel like I was too far out of my comfort zone."
"But today it does?" As though sensing how much her touch was sustaining him, Jane squeezed his hand a little tighter.
Kurt focused on their joined hands as he spoke. "I'm used to being the one who keeps detached, who walks away from something before it gets too serious. Even when I'm not the one to end a relationship, I've always kept my partners at a certain distance. I guess with everything that happened to me as a kid, it feels safer that way."
Jane let out a quiet breath, but stayed quiet. She'd always been the most empathetic person he'd ever met. If he'd felt able to look up at her at that moment, he knew her attention would be focused fully upon him, her sympathetic expression plain on her face. Even without seeing it, it gave him the strength to continue.
"And safe was how I've been playing it with you, for most of the time since we first met. But those walls you keep climbing over to get to me—I told you last night that I don't wanna build them anymore. I just…didn't realise how fast it happens, how hard it is to tear it all back down."
"But you just did, even though it was scary. And that means so much to me. I love you, Kurt." Jane rested her forehead against his, catching and holding his gaze.
"I love you," he murmured back. He paused for just long enough that she could see the truth of it in his eyes, then tilted his head to give her another long, heartfelt kiss.
In the end, Jane did end up leaving—to grab a few days' worth of clean clothes from her safehouse. Kurt had offered to drive her, but she'd insisted that even walking out to the car was more strain than she wanted him to put on his leg. He'd reluctantly let her go, and she'd promised to be back within an hour as she'd kissed him a temporary goodbye.
After using the bathroom, Kurt looked into the eyes of his reflection in the mirror. Part of him was wondering if the short but significant emotional battle he'd just waged with himself would show on his face. Another part was berating himself for overreacting.
To an outsider, watching what had happened—before he'd confessed to Jane how it had affected him—it would have seemed like she'd decided to leave, then Kurt had convinced her to stay. To most couples, that would have been all it was—a simple misunderstanding, easily corrected. Would it ever get easy for him to admit that he needed something from someone, outside of work?
Despite the significance of what had just happened, the mirror showed him a man who was relaxed, happy, with an undercurrent of relief. And so much of that was because of Jane.
So many women would have laughed it off when he'd laid his soul bare—dismissed his fears as silly, or changed the subject. The other women he'd dated had probably dreamed of him confiding in them so honestly, and would have been glad to listen, but he had never even thought to try.
But despite all he and Jane had been through—deception on both sides, then their months-long struggle to deny what they felt for each other, even after the truth came out—she'd never once wavered in caring about what he was thinking and feeling, acknowledging and accepting his pain and betrayal for what it was. That made it so much easier for him to admit when he was struggling—knowing she would never think less of him for it.
With her help, he'd already begun to heal. Sure, Remi and Shepherd had planned to tear open the ugly emotional scars Taylor's disappearance had left him with. But in the end, it had been more like re-breaking a bone to allow it to set properly—though it had hurt like hell, and would take time to really mend, it would be worth it.
With Jane by his side, Kurt felt optimistic about the future. Hopeful, even. And deep down, underneath all his fears and doubts, he knew Jane loved him. He'd known it for months now, even though he'd never listened to that part of himself until she'd actually spoken the words. While he gradually freed himself from the fears that bound him to his traumatic childhood, her love and support would be a foundation to build from.
A foundation? More like a starting point. The thought made him smile to himself as he poured some coffee.
By the time Jane let herself back into the apartment a short time later, Kurt had pulled himself out of his introspection. The way she still hadn't asked what had happened to Shepherd worried him. If she'd let him, he wanted to be there for her, just as much as she'd been there for him.