Be the wall, be the wall, be the wall. Rich stood outside the diagnostics wing they had wheeled Remi into, manning his station. Does taking a long time mean a good thing or a bad thing? How long is a long time? Rich nervously looked at his watch again: ten minutes had passed.

One-twenty-six, one-twenty-seven, he counted the dots within the floor tiles, calculating how many dots covered the hallway floor. Did these dots look like the cells in Jane's brain? Did she have more or less healthy cells than there were dots? Would he be able to tell Jane about the bleak hilarity of counting dots someday?

This is gonna be torture. Maybe I can keep working on finding the Book of Secrets at the same time. Rich turned his attention to his phone, losing himself in the dark web.

Kurt and Patterson sat in the waiting room, Patterson on the phone with her friend, Dr. Spears, and Kurt occupying himself with mindless tasks that would insulate him until he could see his wife again.

"My friend will be here by the morning," Patterson explained when she finished her call.

Kurt nodded, still focusing his attention on the floor. What had happened to Shepherd? How many agencies would be trying to arrest Jane? Would they try to take her to a black site again? Would he lose her again? Would she even live to lose her again? He rubbed his face - this baggage car of thoughts wasn't providing the distraction he needed. Jab. Jab, cross. Jab, cross, hook, cross. Double jab, cross, bob and weave, cross.

"Can I get you a coffee or something?" Patterson asked, trying to draw him from his reverie.

He shook his head.

"Weller, I…" she started, but he cut her off.

"I just need to be left alone," he said quietly, yet firmly, reinforcing the architecture of his fortress, each brainless task his mind came up with offering tape and glue to hold him together until the doctor could return.

Rich had been checking in on his bartering to locate the Book of Secrets when a nurse pushed Remi into the hallway and started moving in a different direction than they had approached. Her body was still and curled to the side. Your job isn't to ask questions; your job is to look out for her. He quietly followed behind the gurney, wondering where their destination would be. Wichita, Tulsa, Ottawa, Oklahoma…focus, Rich, focus.

It was the wee hours of the morning when Dr. Welton retrieved them from the waiting room and brought them to a more private family discussion area. "Stay. Please," Kurt indicated to Patterson to enter the area, and they both dropped into chairs exhumed from the 70s.

"Mr. Weller, your wife is very sick," Dr. Welton explained.

He squinted, the crinkles around his eyes channeling his patience. Tell me something I don't know.

"She's experiencing further complications from the ZIP poisoning. She has bacterial meningitis. The good news is this is treatable. We started her on IV antibiotics. We'll monitor her other symptoms while she recovers, and once she's stabilized, we can consider additional treatments."

"What about her…confusion?" Kurt asked, the appropriate word for his wife's current mental state escaping him.

"A psychiatric consult and I will keep monitoring her until we can get further with the experimental treatments. I've been in communication with Dr. Spears regarding her research, and she should be here soon to consult."

Kurt stayed silent, so Dr. Welton continued. "When we brought Jane for tests, she had a seizure," at Kurt's look of surprise, she added, "Her body is under a lot of stress right now, and it's not unexpected."

"I just want to see her," Kurt requested.

"We have her in the intensive care unit so we can closely monitor her. She's very tired; she's sleeping right now. I can take you back, though."

Patterson stayed with Rich in the hall outside Remi's room. "I think it might be time to call Reade," she indicated.

"So, stays between us needs a plus one," Rich joked and asked, "You mean suspended Reade?"

"He isn't really suspended," she said plainly.

"Then what…" he started, yet she interrupted.

"Not now, Rich. I'll tell you all about it later," she cut him off, "we're gonna need to make sure no one tries to arrest her."

"And we still need to get the Book of Secrets."

And we need to save her, they both thought.

Walking through the hospital to Remi's room was intimidating, Kurt's mind imagining each medical device he saw connected to his wife. When he entered her room, the vivid pictures disappeared. Apart from her arm now having an IV in it and being hooked up to a few monitors, she looked about the same. She was curled up into a protective ball, her free arm tucked in close to her chest. Kurt sat beside her bed and took her hand, wanting to be connected to her, needing to feel that her skin was still warm. He fretted, raising the top of the blanket to her shoulders, expending some of his concerned energy.

Patterson reentered Remi's room and stopped beside Kurt's chair. "Weller, we think it's time to call Reade," she explained.

They had looked out for each other more times than he could count. "Okay," he agreed.

Even though Kurt was talking to Patterson, his gaze remained on his wife. "I know you don't want to leave. I can do it," Patterson offered.

"Okay. Tell him I want to talk to him when he's back."

"I can also stop by your apartment and get some of Jane's things to help her be more comfortable," Patterson added.

He thought back to their apartment, their things strewn all about from their uninvited houseguests. "Sure. Thank you," he handed her his keys.

Patterson called Reade from Kurt and Jane's apartment. "Reade?" she asked when he picked up.

"A little busy at the moment, Patterson," he answered.

"Did you find her?"

"We got Zapata."

Wow, I have about a gazillion questions on that. "When will you be back?"

"Maybe day after tomorrow. Look, sorry, why are you calling me?" he said, sounding distracted.

"It's Jane. We need your help."

Reade set his distractions aside for a moment, focusing only on Patterson's voice. "Jane's in the hospital. She's in trouble. Weller wants to talk to you as soon as you're back," Patterson explained.

"Do I need to come now?" he assessed how dire the situation was.

"No. Just as soon as you can."

"Okay. I need to go. Call me if things get any worse. I'll call when I'm back."

"I got her robe, slippers, underwear, and some toiletries," Patterson explained, piling up Jane's things on the side table, "helps you feel a little more human."

Kurt looked at the smudges outside Jane's eyes. "Are there makeup wipes in there?"

"Yeah."

At least there's something I can do for her when she wakes up. "Did you reach Reade?"

"Yeah. They found Zapata."

"Wow. That's big. Any details?"

"Not yet. He expects to be back in two days. So we gotta hold down the fort until then."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna go get some food and work on the cache a little. I'll be back in a bit," Patterson indicated and left.

He must have drifted to sleep at some point, waking to a soft, "Kurt?" and a hand squeezing his. He raised his head, wincing at the crick in his neck, and found Jane's hazel eyes looking back at him from where she lay on the bed.

He knelt on the floor, meeting her at eye level and caressing her cheek with his hand. "Jane?"

She reached up to place her hand on top of his, and she kissed his palm.

"Jane," he repeated, relief flooding through him.

Tears spilled to his cheeks as he kissed her forehead, her cheek, not believing he had his wife in front of him again and not wanting to let her go. "Something's wrong," she stated, unable to clear her fog of confusion and clutching her head.

He threaded his fingers into her hair. "You're very sick. All that ZIP you were injected with is poisoning you. The best doctors are researching how to make you better."

"I'm scared," she admitted, her lower lip trembling.

"I'm right here, my love. I will do everything I can to help you."

"I love you," she whispered, welcoming his kiss to her lips and impressing in her kiss back that she would fight for him.

"I love you," he returned, his voice rough with the raw emotion that he could lose her.

Kurt carefully clutched her and placed his face right next to hers, their fear escaping in tears wetting the sheet. Her soft voice of "Kurt, I'm tired" encouraged him to raise his head and wipe his eyes. "Patterson brought you some things from home to help you be more comfortable," he indicated, "can I help you put your robe on? And I also have some of your makeup wipes if you want to clear your skin."

"I'm sure smudgy vampire is hot," she lightly joked, and her eyes closed, all of her energy seemingly spent, "yes, please."

Kurt threaded her free arm through the robe's sweatshirt material, around her back, and draped the other sleeve of it over her shoulder. He was very careful with the makeup wipes, slowly ensuring he removed all traces of foundation, eyeliner, eye shadow, and mascara. "So gentle," Jane noted in thanks.

"Do you want to change positions?"

"No. It's good."

Jane fell asleep, Kurt sitting close by in the chair again.

Rich watched from the hallway, seeing Kurt lovingly care for his wife. That's my Jane. Give that man something to look forward to.

Jane's awake, he texted Patterson, no sign of Remi. RIP.

RIP you apart, Rich threw a few punches in celebration, then remembered he was supposed to be composed at his station. Be the wall, be the wall, be the wall.