A broken phone and a broken computer made this chapter take longer than expected.

"The most painful state of being is remembering the future. Particularly one you can never have." Soren Kierkegaard

Jane hadn't really had a plan when she got off the plane in France. At least not anything more than "find the guy, remove the bounty, get back to Kurt."

Kurt would have left everything – Bethany, the FBI, Sarah and Sawyer – everything – to be with her. That wasn't fair to ask of him. She loved him too much to make him give up his life for her. Jane couldn't do that to him – ask him to choose between his daughter and her. Even if Kurt had come with her – she'd still have that bounty hanging over her head at every turn. No, she needed real freedom. It had been nearly impossible to leave him behind, but it was the only way. That way, when she returned, they could have the life they had always imagined, the life they deserved.

Jane made her way across France and Germany, spending the nights in hostels where she could blend in with other transients as she made her way across Europe. She picked up information about close calls the others had had – areas where crime seemed to happen, sketchy people they passed – and made notes to check them out. It seemed unlikely that someone could accidentally stumble across this mysterious dark web fixer, but she had to start somewhere.

She never spent more than a few days in the same city, afraid of attracting attention. No matter how much she felt secure in the anonymous hostels, she was still covered in tattoos. She could be tracked and identified anywhere, and the longer she stayed in one place, the more likely it was to happen.

She was in Austria when she realized the date.

She stared at the calendar, checking and rechecking the date in her head. It had to have been a mistake. She thought back to the last times, trying to do the math and remember. They were careful, but – Jane couldn't deny that sometimes they were a little lax about things like that. She bit her lip as she thought about it. "I can't be… I can't" the words echoed in her head. She was certain it was just a mistake. That maybe the stress of the past few weeks had pushed it back. She hadn't been eating that well either, maybe that was it. The excuses ran through her mind, trying to find any reason except the one she feared the most.

Jane left early the next morning, not waiting for the bus. She needed to move, to escape the thoughts in her head. She hiked for hours, not stopping until the evening. The movement felt good, rhythmic. As she walked, she did a scan of her body, trying to notice anything different – or trying to convince herself that everything was the same. She wasn't sure which.

When she finally reached Salzburg, she found an out of the way hotel to stay at for a few days. Although Keaton had set her up with new identities and paperwork, she tried to refrain from using them, preferring the anonymous hostels and catching rides with locals. But tonight, Jane wanted privacy.

She paced around the small room, one foot in front of the other, trying to find the same peace in repetition she had earlier in the day. But through it all, all she could concentrate on was the tiny stick in the bathroom. Never before had three minutes taken so long.

Jane tried one after the other, hoping for a different result.

Positive. Every single one.

Shit.

x~x~x

Jane stayed there for three days, hoping to find some clarity.

She was used to action – when something needed done, she just did it. That was all she knew how to do. When she first came out of the bag covered in tattoos, she followed the leads. When she was asked to be a triple agent to take down Sandstorm, she did it. Even now – when she heard she had a bounty on her head, she was determined to stop it. Even when she didn't know what to do – she still went out and did something. Staying still wasn't an option.

But now she was lost.

Jane kept going over it in her head, pacing around the hotel room for hours.

I'm pregnant.

It never changed. She didn't have a plan. But all she knew was if she wasn't smart, someone would kill her – and her child. Suddenly there was more at stake than ever before.

Jane had known all along that someone might actually succeed in killing her. There had been too many close calls in her life for her not to know that was a possibility. Sure, she was a strong fighter, but without Keaton's warning, she and Kurt would have both died in Colorado.

Kurt.

It hurt every time Jane thought of him. She placed her hand on her still flat stomach. He needed to know. She wanted him to know. This child was as much of him as it was her. Every time Jane pictured this moment, she pictured Kurt by her side. He was everything to her, and now she was carrying a piece of him with her. She had barely been able to leave when it was just herself. Now, facing the realization that she was keeping their child away from him also – she couldn't bear the thought.

But that brought Jane back to the exact reason she left. To keep him safe. To keep everyone safe. They had been attacked. In their home. Where Bethany was sleeping just feet away. She couldn't do that to him, to Bethany, or to their child. If she went back, they would do it again and again. And every time, not only was she putting herself at risk, and this new baby, but also Kurt, Bethany, Allie, and everyone she loved and cared about. There would be no stopping them until she was dead.

"I could stay away, Kurt would never know." Jane thought, hating herself instantly. She couldn't really be considering not telling him, could she? That was the whole reason she suggested moving to Colorado – so Kurt could be closer to his daughter. And now here she was, thinking of keeping the mere existence of his child a secret from him. Of trying to raise a child halfway across the world, while fighting off assassins at every turn?

Jane sighed, sitting down on the bed. This felt impossible – more than it had before. She wanted him to know, to share this moment with her, and all the moments that followed. But that desire was only matched by the need to keep him safe at all costs. Too many people had died because of her. Even if she told him, there was no guarantee. Sure, Keaton could give him new documents, and they could be together, but the bounty would still be there. Ten million dollars was not easily forgotten.

As if on cue, the window shattered as two masked assailants broke into the hotel room.