Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)
Jane stood in the dark, her heart hammering so loudly that the noise filled her ears. There was no other sound, not even the men's shouts, and she wondered desperately where they'd taken Kurt. Her fear of his fate was so great, based on her experience at the black site, that it almost completely eclipsed her panic and fear for herself, there in the dark room that so reminded her of the last time she'd been locked in a small room, in between Keaton's attempts to extract information from her by breaking her, mentally and physically. She continued to hear nothing, but that didn't make her feel any better. They could have taken him somewhere soundproof, after all, and done any manner of horrible things to him.
And it would be all my fault, she told herself miserably. If I had never…
It wasn't you, she heard him telling her inside her head. You are not Remi.
And yet… even though she knew that she wasn't, she also knew that she was. Physically, anyway, she was that person. Or… she had been that person. It was overwhelming.
Breathing normally was quickly becoming impossible, and she had to consciously remind herself to calm down. As numb as she'd made herself to her own pain, the panic that she felt on Kurt's behalf was far more difficult to shut down. If anything happened to him… No. It simply wasn't a thought she could even fathom. The thought of not having him in her life was something she couldn't accept.
Stop being so stupid, a cold, sarcastic voice said from somewhere in the back of her mind, and it startled her. That sounded an awful lot like something Remi would say, and the tone she would probably use.
She froze, her thoughts included, and just stood there, now even more terrified. Since when did Remi consciously talk to her? Waiting anxiously to see if the voice would go on, she was relieved when nothing else came, only the thundering of her own heartbeat, her own desperate thoughts.
Great, I needed something else to be anxious about, she thought sarcastically. Focusing on calming herself down, reminding herself that thinking rationally was the only chance she had of figuring out how they could get out of there alive, she felt her pulse gradually relenting just a little. There was still no sound from the world outside, but she tried to see it as a positive. There were no sounds of agony, so at least for this moment, she still had hope that Kurt was perfectly fine.
Continuing to take very deliberate breaths, she focused on the smooth wall behind her, on standing on her good ankle, which was quickly growing tired from holding all of her weight. That didn't really matter. She'd survived much worse, and this would be no exception.
Breathe in. Breathe out, she reminded herself. She stood against the wall and waited. And waited. And waited. Time seemed to drag on endlessly, since she had no way to mark how long it had been since they'd been locked in, and no way to know how long it had been since Kurt had been led away. Her heart ached as she remembered him immediately speaking up, telling them to take him, before she had had a chance to do exactly that. He'd known that she would have, if he didn't, and he'd done it to protect her. She didn't need to be told that to know that it was true. They were very much the same in that way.
Please be okay, she silently begged. Please.
Not far away, but out in the world lit by the sun, the white of the walls on either side of Kurt were so bright they were nearly blinding as they walked down the narrow hallway. Even after more than a minute, it still seemed too bright to his sensitive eyes, feeling almost as though the walls were reflecting light directly back at him. At the end of the hall the procession stopped – there were three armed men in front of him, and three behind him. The one who'd seemed to be the leader turned around and looked him in the eye. "Remember, if you try anything, your little girlfriend back there dies. Do we understand each other?"
Kurt stared directly in the man's eyes, taking a deep breath against the anger he felt building inside him. Threatening him was one thing, but threatening Jane… the man must have known – or at least guessed – the effect that would have had on Kurt. Kurt stared hard at him, and the other man stared right back, neither of them blinking or looking away.
"Perfectly," Kurt growled finally, attempting to stay calm but finding it harder the longer he thought about harm coming to Jane.
"Good," the other man said, looking satisfied that they had an understanding. He turned and opened the door to Kurt's left, there at the end of the hall, which he hadn't even noticed. Behind the door, Kurt was surprised to find an ordinary looking bathroom. The floor was dirty white linoleum and the tiles on the wall were pale green, chipped in more than one place and looking like they hadn't been cleaned in longer than Jane had been Jane… but other than being a little dirty, there was absolutely nothing remarkable about it.
"You've got two minutes," the man growled at him. "And don't forget…"
"I got it," Kurt repeated, gritting his teeth as the hands that held tightly onto his arms released him and he stepped stiffly through the bathroom door.
"Oh, and just in case you don't really care about what happens to tattoo girl as much as I think you do, I have a couple guys outside the window, too, so I wouldn't try to escape even if you don't care if I kill her," the sandy haired man added, before closing the door behind Kurt. He heard a lock from the outside, and noticed that the doorknob appeared to have been reversed.
Sighing, Kurt took advantage of the unexpected chance to use the bathroom and wash his hands, then stared at himself in the large mirror above the sink. It was still a little bit surreal to be able to see anything, after the extended time in the darkness. It was nice, except for the fact that he looked like absolute hell. He'd been roughed up almost as badly as Jane had before they'd ended up in the dark cell, and there were bruises forming in several places that he could see in the mirror – his forehead and his chin, to be exact – as well as several that he couldn't see at that moment, since they were currently hidden by his clothes, but that he could could feel.
The banging on the door signaled to him that his two minutes were up, and he turned his attention back towards the door, which began opening almost immediately. Staring forward with the same cold expression that he'd given the man who'd not so subtly told him to stay in line before, he met those same menacing eyes once again. If he didn't know better, he'd say that the other man was actually enjoying this.
"Let's go," he told Kurt gruffly, motioning him out of the narrow bathroom. Kurt complied, not currently having another choice. After all, there was no way he was risking Jane's safety. Besides, before they did anything, they needed to have a plan.
Kurt said nothing as they marched him back down the hall toward the doorway that he knew led to the dark room where, he hoped, Jane was in the same condition in which he had left her.
When they stopped just outside the door, Kurt took a chance, turning toward the man and asking, "Are you going to tell us what we're doing here? What you want?" Looking at him in amusement, as if he'd just noticed that Kurt was standing near him, the man laughed.
"When it's time for you to know what's going on, Mr. FBI, you'll know," he told him with a sneer. The effect was chilling. This was one piece of information, at least – these men knew that Kurt was FBI.
Turning back to the door, the man's grin once again indicated to Kurt that he was getting far more amusement out of the situation than any normal person would have. Kurt just watched him carefully, knowing that it was his last chance to gather whatever information he could before he was stuck back into the dark room again. The door creaked open loudly, and for a second it looked like Jane had vanished. There was an audible gasp from the men looking into the room, but then they all saw her, almost all at once, and the murmurs died down.
Jane was leaning against the wall, squinting in their direction but, as Kurt remembered from prior experience, seeing nothing but bright light. All she could do was hope that somewhere in the bright light was Kurt, and that he was OK.
When Kurt didn't walk through the doorway fast enough, the leader of the group shoved him, hard, and he almost lost his balance as he stumbled forward into the room. He saw Jane's eyes try to follow the sound, but she still hadn't quite focused on him, simply squinting into the light. Therefore, her expression was still one of outright fear.
"Jane," he whispered quickly, wanting to let her know their intention was, he thought, innocent enough, so that she might relax even just a little. Her face lost a little of its tension at the sound of his voice, and in a few more steps he had reached her, at the wall.
She could partially make out his face as her eyes adjusted to the light. There were probably only seconds left, she knew, before they either shut the door or – more frighteningly – made her go along with them wherever they'd taken Kurt.
"Let's go, princess," boomed the voice from the door. She inhaled sharply.
"It's just the bathroom, Jane. That's where they took me," he whispered. His hands were on her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. He wanted to make the most of the time in which he stood in front of her, since he was fairly sure they were about to take her down the hall to the bathroom. As much as he didn't want her out of his sight, as long as they didn't do anything to hurt her, that was actually something he was OK with. After all, she'd be pretty uncomfortable if they didn't take her to the bathroom…
Feeling a little bit of relief that at least Kurt was alright, she nodded as she saw his face coming into focus, looking suspiciously almost as roughed up as she had been. He never mentioned that, she couldn't help but think.
"My ankle," Jane whispered to Kurt. "I don't think I can walk."
"Her ankle's broken, we think," Kurt said in the direction of the voice, the bright light from the doorway now slightly blinding to him once again as he stood in the darkness. "I can—"
"You can't stay right where you're at," the leader told him calmly. "Let's see you try and walk, princess."
Jane swallowed hard, and Kurt, after one more squeeze of her shoulders and an intense look at her poor swollen face, which he'd been unable to see until now, dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped to the side, hating that he was unable to help her. Even watching her take one step, knowing that she was probably going to collapse, or at the very least be in a lot of pain, was painful to him, as well.
As expected, Jane's ankle buckled under her as soon as she put weight on it, and she landed on her knees.
"You think she's fakin'?" she heard one of the men ask another.
"Nah," said the leader. Then, turning to a man at the back of the group, he called, "Hey, Daryl, go get her up and help her get down the hall."
It would have been hard to say which of them was more anxious at these words, Jane or Kurt. Of course, under normal circumstances, Jane was more than able to handle herself with anyone who might think of getting too close to her or putting their hands in the wrong place, even with a broken ankle. But with the admonition of "Try anything and he dies," he being Kurt, Jane was completely at the mercy of these strangers and their questionable intentions, at least until they figured out a safe way to escape. Still, if they really did intend to simply take her to the bathroom, then maybe she didn't have as much to worry about as she'd feared.
A scrawny man with greasy blonde hair that hung down to his chin stepped through the doorway and walked toward Jane. He couldn't have been more than just out of his teens, at the most, and he wore a bored, sullen look that reinforced the idea that he may well still be a teenager. As the only one in the group who wasn't large and imposing, it seemed likely that his size and less than threatening appearance was perhaps the reason he'd been kept out of sight until that point. Kurt glared daggers at the man, already hating the idea of him getting close to Jane.
Daryl stood in front of Jane and crossed his arms, waiting for her to get up. "Oh for fuck's sake, help her up, you asshole!" yelled the leader. "You got no manners, or what?" With a heavy sigh, Daryl dropped his arms and extended a hand to Jane, who, having little other choice, took it and accepted his half-hearted assistance with getting back up.
"C'mon, let's go," Daryl told her in annoyance, finally putting his arm around Jane's waist with an ugly grin, as if he'd just realized that he was going to really enjoy this.
Jane could actually feel the tension radiating off of Kurt from behind her, without even turning around. She wanted to signal to him that she was fine, but there was no way to do so.
Hating that she had no other choice, Jane leaned as far away from Daryl as she could while still needing to lean on him, her arm over his shoulder as she hopped along beside him slowly. She tried not to think about his grasp on her, which was uncomfortably tight, and she could still feel Kurt's eyes boring into the back of her head. Attempting to turn around for a glance at him, she found that she couldn't turn her head at the right angle in time and ended up out the door before her eyes had found him.
Standing by the wall where he'd been with Jane only a few seconds before, on the other hand, Kurt anxiously watched her go, hoping that her "excursion" would be as quick and, relatively speaking, painless as his had been.
Now it was his turn to wait.
Jane and Daryl and the rest of the procession that had accompanied Kurt down the hall went straight to the same bathroom door to which Kurt had just been taken.
"I'm assuming you don't want Daryl here to help you any more in there?" the leader asked, as if he thought he was really funny.
"No, thank you," Jane replied with a scowl.
"Well, then, have at it," the man said with a nod into the small bathroom. "You have two minutes. And I'll tell you the same thing I told your boyfriend – in case you decide you're so desperate to escape that you don't care if he dies, there's guys outside that window there, too. If you've really got a busted ankle, then you definitely won't get far… so it's probably not worth the risk, I'd think…"
"Got it," Jane growled, turning to go into the bathroom as she hopped on one leg, holding onto the wall for balance and the door closed hard behind her. After she was finished, she did the same thing Kurt had done, staring hard at herself in the mirror. He was right, the right side of her face was painfully swollen, though at the moment, she didn't feel it. Pain wasn't registering with her just then, the only sign that anything was wrong being that her left ankle wasn't supporting her weight.
Staring at her reflection, she found that if she concentrated hard enough, she could almost see Kurt beside her. While she'd blocked out all of the physical pain, at that moment she felt an ache in her chest. As determined as she was that they would figure out a way out of this, the possibility always existed that they wouldn't. How many times would their close calls be just that, instead of the unthinkable? No one could guarantee that at some point, their luck wouldn't run out… that this time, their luck wouldn't run out.
Don't think like that, she reminded herself. Whatever is happening, there's always a way out. So find it.
Just then, there was pounding on the door and she turned around instinctively towards the noise. The door opened and the same group of men were glaring at her, her new friend Daryl being front and center. He hadn't done anything inappropriate, exactly, just clung too hard to her, leaning into her far more than she was comfortable with. Still, all things considered, the walk to the bathroom hadn't been too bad. She could handle another one of the same to get back to Kurt, even if it meant going back into that dark hole for the time being.
There's always a way out, her mind repeated. They were far more likely to find it together, just like they normally did.
Hopping to the door, she grudgingly let Daryl hold her up as they walked in the center of the heavily armed group of men back down the bright white hallway to the door that led to darkness. She felt her pulse quicken as the key turned in the lock, glaring at the group's apparent leader as he opened it and then grinned at her widely, extending his arm in mock politeness, indicating that she should enter. This time, Daryl only went as far with her as the doorway, stopping and, after a brief and unwelcome squeeze around her waist that made her gasp slightly in surprise, he dropped his arm from her, leaving her to hop into the small room on her own.
Kurt had been staring hard at the door since he'd heard the key in the lock, and he'd been barely able to make out the shapes of people in the doorway against the bright light from behind them. When only one of the shapes continued forward into the room, he knew that it was Jane, and he started forward before all of the light was extinguished as the door closed again behind her. She'd hopped forward, but lost her balance quickly, and probably would have hit the floor hard if he hadn't managed to reach her at the very second when she lurched forward. The room – if it could be called that – had already been plunged back into darkness, and though he tried to hold them both up, they ended up on the floor once more, Kurt cushioning her fall.
Sitting up and pulling his arms around her, he hugged her harder than he ever had before, suddenly having trouble catching his breath. "Are you okay?" he mumbled urgently, pressing his face into her hair. He hadn't even realized just how worried about her he'd been – though he'd known that he had been worried about her – until she'd hopped back into the room and he'd caught her before she'd fallen. His anxiety level began to drop only very slowly as he assured himself that she really was there. Holding onto her himself just didn't even seem to be quite reassurance enough.
"I'm okay, Kurt," she said, nodding against him, feeling herself suddenly having trouble breathing normally as well, as the numb sensation she'd slipped back into began to fade and she felt herself shaking. All in all, it hadn't been bad, but it was just the thought that they might do something to him if they decided that they didn't like what she did… What they did to her didn't matter, as far as she was concerned, as long as they left him alone.
What made the whole thing so ironic was that he felt the same way about her. They were both now weak with relief that the other one was alright, with little to no thought to their own well-being.
He felt shaking, but he honestly couldn't tell if it was him or her, or maybe both of them, so he simply held on tighter to her, pulling her more securely into his lap as he shifted to sit up all the way, there in the middle of the room. Slowly, their breathing normalized, helped by the feel of the other there, safe and alive.
"You never told me they beat you up, too," she whispered with a hint of accusation.
"It doesn't matter, I'm fine," he insisted. "They didn't hit me nearly as hard as you. Which reminds me, I would give anything to get some ice on that face of yours and some painkillers for you." The tenderness in his voice threatened to take her breath away.
"It's fine," she replied, still feeling like sitting there with his arms wrapped tightly around her was too good to be true. "I don't even feel it."
"Which means you're either in shock, or you're disassociating from the pain," he told her without hesitation, "because there's no way that that wouldn't hurt."
She sighed, not having an answer for that. "And what about you?" she asked, turning the conversation back around. "It looked like they roughed you up pretty well, too. Where else are you injured? Am I going to need to do that check for injuries that you 'threatened' me with?" Her voice was somehow light and joking and yet tight and serious at the same time. After all, where they were wasn't funny in the least, but she could at least give him a hard time for making such a big deal of her injuries while not even mentioning his own…
"Do you mean that as a threat, or a promise?" he asked, and she could hear the same mix of emotions in his voice – the playfulness mixed with seriousness.
She sighed heavily, and was surprised when her breath came out shakily, instead of with a laugh, as she expected. After all, she told herself, it was completely normal to be afraid in this situation, even if she was determined to tell herself that she wasn't. She took a few more deep breaths, trying to calm her sudden panic.
He laid his cheek against the top of her head, pulling his arms tighter still, willing it all to be okay. "They need us for something," he said in the most soothing voice he could muster. "They've been ordered to treat us well, at least for the time being." She nodded against him, trying to soak in the calm that he seemed to be exuding. "It's going to be okay," he added.
Funny how you work so hard to tell yourself that, but it sounds so much more believable when he says it, she thought.
"Yeah," she murmured, sounding unconvinced. After sitting in silence for a while once again, this time Jane was the first one to speak. "What happened the next day?" she asked. She didn't know why, but she'd thought back to his story, how he'd latched onto the day before his birthday. "On your birthday?"
For a few seconds he was still and quiet, and she wondered if she shouldn't have asked. "I'm sorry," she added quickly, "You don't have to—"
But he shook his head against hers, so that she felt it. "No, it's fine," he assured her. "I just hadn't thought about it in a long time…" He paused to gather his thoughts, then continued. "When my mom was around, my birthday was always so much fun. Even without doing anything major, she made it special. After that…" he shook his head. "It was like the magic disappeared with her. My dad made an attempt every year, for both of our birthdays, but he just wasn't that guy. He wasn't good at making things special. I guess he just had too many problems of his own… And you never knew if he'd be sober. Which… he usually wasn't, at least when it counted."
Kurt lifted his head and stared off into the darkness, feeling sad for his childhood self as if he hadn't been that kid. It was hard to remember because what came afterwards had eclipsed everything else, but he'd already been somewhat broken before Taylor had disappeared, which was why it had hurt that much more.
Jane lifted her head as well, staring up in his direction, once again frustrated that she couldn't see him. It was hard to know which of them had it worse – not remembering your painful childhood, or remembering something so painful that you actively tried to forget. Of course, each of them assumed that it was worse for the other, and Jane's heart ached for him just then. Sitting up a little straighter in his lap, her hands moved slowly, starting just below his shoulders, up the back of his neck and then around to his cheeks, her thumbs fanning out gently across the scruff on either side.
She wanted to say something sympathetic, but what was there to say that could possibly cover it? That kind of pain, that he'd felt for nearly his entire life… she had no concept of that much time, so it was simply impossible for her to imagine. However, because she was as empathetic as she was, and because their connection was so strong, even without being able to understand, her heart ached for him until she felt as though it would burst. She wondered if his mother had ever realized the damage she was doing when she'd decided to leave.
As painful as the memory was, he hadn't minded telling her. He'd never really liked his birthday after his mom had left, and this was why. It couldn't compete with the ones he'd had when he'd been young enough that his memories were fuzzy. And maybe he was idealizing those early ones a little, and they hadn't really been that magical, but there was nothing he could do about that at this point, because that was the way he remembered them. Never in a million years would he have talked about all this with anyone else… and yet, he told Jane without a second thought.
The sensation of her hands on his face was soothing, and the sting of the memory began to fade slowly into the background. It was funny that, had they never been trapped in the dark, he was fairly sure that neither of them would have been bold enough to do a lot of the things they had done since they'd been there… they would have done a lot of this comforting of each other with their eyes, like they usually did, instead of their hands. Touch had always been important to them, but they had never used it quite this much.
And yet, there was something to be said for this level of intimacy that they'd suddenly jumped up to… who knew how long it might have taken them if they hadn't ended up here…
Focusing on breathing in and out, and on Jane's hands on his face, his eyes fell closed – not that that made any difference, it was merely something that happened instinctually when he felt this much raw emotion. She hadn't said anything else, but she hadn't needed to. The feelings were all there, communicated perfectly.
"I'm sorry I asked," she whispered.
"Don't be," he replied. "I wouldn't tell anyone else those stories… but I want to tell you. All of it." She smiled sadly, because it was bittersweet. There were so many of those sad stories in his past, she knew… a lifetime worth. And while she hated that they existed, that he had been through that much, her heart ached with happiness that he would even think of telling her one of them, much less want to share them all.
He could hear the sad smile in the change in her breathing, and was surprised, because he hadn't even known that that was possible. Then again, maybe it was only possible because it was Jane, the person he knew and understood best.
Her thumbs continued to move back and forth on his cheeks, and she felt the muscles beneath her fingers contract as he smiled slowly. "You're going to put me to sleep, doing that," he told her quietly.
"Oh yeah?" she said with a smile of her own.
"Mmmmhmmmm…" he said, nodding. "I should scoot back to the wall first so I don't fall over." They'd ended up in the middle of the floor, where he'd caught Jane just before she'd fallen over upon coming back from the bathroom, thanks to her possibly broken ankle. She chuckled at the thought of him falling over asleep because she'd relaxed him that much by rubbing her hands on his face.
With that, Kurt reluctantly lowered his arms from around her, then carefully did scoot himself – and Jane along with him, since she was on his lap – back towards the wall on which they'd been leaning earlier, feeling Jane's hands slip down to clasp behind his neck to help ensure that she didn't lose her balance and fall off his lap as they moved. Even when they stopped, she didn't move them back to his face right away, instead letting her fingers dance across the back of his neck. It was another pleasant sensation, and the bad memories of his tenth birthday continued to fade back into his memory. Without realizing it, he'd leaned his head forward, towards her, and was surprised when his forehead touched hers.
They both smiled then, having almost forgotten where they were and the danger that they were still in. That was how powerful the feelings that coursed through them just then were – they could literally block out the fact that they'd been captured and thrown into a dark cell, their lives having been threatened.
Now leaning his back against the wall, he put his arms back around her and held on tight. Before she had a chance to move her hands from his neck, however, there was noise outside the door – a sudden loud commotion, shouts, and if they weren't mistaken, gunfire. They froze in place, and she felt his arms tighten around her protectively. Not that he would be able to do anything to protect her if someone with malicious intentions opened the door to their little room… but that was his first instinct. They both sat perfectly still, just listening.
"Where are they?" The voice rang out loud and clear, and they both smiled.
They were about to be rescued.
A/N: Yes, there's more coming. I'm not sure how much, but at least one chapter. I'm going to be out of town this weekend, so it may take me a few extra days, but the next chapter should still be posted before next week's NEW episode. :)