Author's Note: Hi! I'm back in the country. Thank you so much to those reading - hope you're enjoying it! Only a few more chapters to go - may be a little slow in coming just because I'm in graduate school and the new semester starts tomorrow. But I'll try to be quick. :)

Jane's apartment, 10:00 pm

It took an hour for Jane to cry it all out, and Schwartz wasn't sure she'd actually done all the crying she needed to. But she'd wanted to tell him more. How she'd left Minnesota in the middle of the night while Ken was sleeping. How she'd decided she'd tell people she was divorced thinking that it would protect her somehow. How she'd not been able to tell him the truth after that because she was afraid to, afraid he'd change his mind about her.

"And then I came home, and found you, and you looked at me and treated me like…like I was beautiful and worth knowing and special. I couldn't tell you that I was actually just…damaged goods. God, I know it was selfish of me, but I just…I needed you, Paul. And…I wanted you. I couldn't…I couldn't screw it up. I couldn't give it up."

Damaged goods. She thought of herself that way. That asshole had made her think of herself that way.

They'd ordered pizza and sat at on the floor on opposite sides of the coffee table. Schwartz didn't have much of an appetite, but he wanted Jane to eat, so he forced three slices down. The conversation was stilted. He told her about his new job. She told him that she made up with her folks, more or less.

He couldn't stop thinking about those pictures. And the bruises and cuts and blood on her face. The bruises on her body. What that rat bastard had done to her. How she'd suffered for so damn long. How no one had believed her. A rage settled inside of him, and he was of half a mind to go down to the police station and convince Farkas to give him access to wherever Ken Carson was being held. A rematch, and with everything he knew now creating adrenalized fire in his blood, Schwartz knew he'd make mince meat out of that guy.

"I was right."

"Huh?" He glanced up and found Jane smiling at him. She looked beautiful, but her eyes were so swollen, her skin still far too pale. It seemed to him he could see the shadows of those bruises her ex had put all over her face, and he frowned and looked back down at the pizza.

"That logo. It looks wonderful on you."

"Oh. Right. You said that it would."

He'd showered after work but for some reason, put the work shirt back on before he'd headed to the Tavern. In the hopes she'd show up. In the hopes she'd notice. He smiled slightly as he fiddled with the crust of his pizza. She'd done both.

God, he wanted to kill that bastard Carson. How could he possibly hurt someone like Jane? How could anyone who called himself a human being put his hands on this woman in violence? How could he make her cry and not give a damn? Over and over again?

"I'll be right back."

Something in her voice sounded strange, broken, and he looked up to find her on her feet and rushing to the kitchen. Maybe she wanted a drink, except her bottle of Pepsi was only half empty. He glanced up toward the kitchen door and frowned. Thought he heard something, her voice. Muffled. A sob. He got to his feet and felt like an idiot, because he should have guessed by the tight way she'd spoken and how she'd nearly tripped over her own feet in order to get away from him that something was wrong. In the doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen, he stopped. She stood at the sink, her back to him, and her shoulders shook.

An ache like he'd never known spread through his chest.

He cleared his throat. Walked toward her. She stiffened, she'd clearly heard him because she lifted her head, but she didn't turn. When he reached her, he put his hands on her hips, slipped them to the front of her to rest on her stomach, and drew her back into him. He leaned down to speak against her cheek. "Janey…"

"I've ruined it. This is why I didn't want to tell you, because you'd know how ruined I am. And now…now you can't even look at me anymore." She started crying, and each of her sobs felt like a stab to his heart.

"Janey." His arms tightened until she whimpered, but he didn't let up. "You're not ruined. Not to me. Not to anyone."

"I am."

"You're not. Turn around. Please."

"No. I can't. Not if you won't…"

"I'll look at you. I promise."

He loosened his arms enough for her to turn, and when she did, he met her eyes. They were swollen and red, but they were hers. He forced away the thoughts of what Carson had done to her and focused on his Janey, right here and now, in his arms, looking up at him uncertainly. Before he could say anything, she did.

"You deserve so much better than me, Paul. I'm a liar. I'm a whore. I'm worthless. I'm a bitch. I'm stupid. I'…"

He kissed her mouth to stop the words, then pulled back. "Stop. Those are his words. Those are his lies." He stared into her eyes and prayed that much like he can see her heart in hers, both the broken and the whole of it, she can see his heart in his eyes. And most importantly, the part of his heart that is full of love for her. "I've been waiting for someone like you…no. Not someone like you. I've been waiting for you my entire life, Janey. And I'm not going anywhere just because of what that bastard did to you."

She blinked up at him, and a little bit of the doubt faded from her eyes. Her arms tentatively wrapped around his waist.

He leaned forward and pressed his nose to hers, rubbed his against hers, and was pleased when she gave a soft, slight giggle. He wanted to close his eyes but didn't even though she closed hers. If she opened them, he wanted her to see him looking at her. "I'm having trouble looking at you because I keep seeing what he did to you. And God, Janey, I hate what he did to you. I hate that he hurt you. I hate that he made you bleed and cry and…." He swallowed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to cool the anger that had made itself a home in his gut and just waited for an opportunity to rise up and explode. "I hate that I wasn't there. To stop it. To help you."

To save you, he thought.

"Oh, Paul…"

"I know. It's ridiculous, but I wish…" He looked at her again, then kissed her forehead. "I wish I had been there."

That made her smile, just slightly, just enough to turn his heart upside down. "I wish you had been, too. You would have believed me." She presses herself closer to him and slips her hands up the back of his shirt. "But you're here now?"

Schwartz nods, though he hated that she'd sounded so questioning. "I'm here now. And for as long as you want me to be. Forever, I hope." He brushed his lips over hers, softly, then looked into her eyes. And thank God, the phantoms of those photos were leaving him alone. "You know what I see when I look at you, Janey?"

She shook her head and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. He turned his head so he could speak close to her ear.

"I see the bravest woman I have ever known. The strongest woman I have ever known. The smartest and warmest and sweetest woman I have ever known." He shrugged his shoulder gently, and she lifted her face, but still avoided his eyes. "Can you look at me?"

She was shivering, and he held her tighter. She nodded and slowly lifted her eyes to his.

His left hand moved up her back to her neck, then around to cradle her jaw. The fear in her eyes bothered him, made his chest ache, and he prayed that he'd be able to make it go away completely and forever. He prayed that as helpless as he felt, as unsure of what to do he was, whatever he did do and say would only help her. "Janey, everything you are is beautiful. And it doesn't matter what he did to you. You're beautiful. You're the most beautiful woman in the world. And I…" He swallows and tries to summon the courage even as his stomach did somersaults. Her eyes seemed brighter, less haunted, more hopeful, and he suspected she anticipated what he was going to say. He traced her lips with his thumb. "I love you. I am just…in love with you. And none of this has changed that. Nothing will ever change that."

It was amazing, he thought, the power of words. Jane stared at him, and he watched as her eyes lit up, as pink filled her cheeks, as her mouth parted, then curved upwards. Time stood still. Everything did, except for his pounding heart and the frantic prayer in his head.

Please let her say it back. Please let her feel it back.

Please.

God, please.

She lifted a hand to his cheek and touches him softly with her fingertips, tentative because of the bruising he knew. "Paul," she says, hardly more than a whisper. "Oh, God, I love you so much. More than I'll ever be able to tell you." She raised her eyebrows. "Will it hurt if we kiss?"

He grinned, his stomach churning but this time with the joy of what she'd just said. "I don't care if it does."

He kissed her, and it did kind of hurt but he hadn't lied. He didn't care in the slightest.

They walked around Hohman for about an hour, despite the chill in the air. Schwartz held Jane's hand, periodically squeezing it so she knew she was safe, that he was right there next to her. They said very little, but somehow it seemed right. He listened to her breathing, and it seemed music to him. They passed Flick's Tavern, and Jane started to pause, but he kept her moving, and she gave him a small smile.

"I'm hungry," Jane said, just as they came to the elementary school.

"We left most of the pizza. We can heat it up in the oven."

She stopped when they came a few dozen feet from the flagpole. "Can we stop here for a few minutes?"

Schwartz nodded. "Of course."

She walked to the flagpole, and much like she had the first time they'd come here together, she took hold of it and spun around it. She laughed and spun around again, slightly faster. The sweet sound of her laughter, the way her hair flowed behind her joy-stricken face, made him laugh, too. She was art. A masterpiece.

She let go of the pole and stumbled toward him, obviously slightly dizzy, and he caught her. Took her in his arms. She beamed up at him, her cheeks flushed with the cold but also with the fun she'd just given herself. And him.

"This is my favorite place in the world," she said.

Schwartz slid is hands under her coat and ran them up and down her back. As always, it didn't matter that his hands were gloved and that she wore a thick sweater; he felt the warmth of her very being. "Why is that?"

She smiled up at him. "You kissed me here for the first time."

"Oh. Yeah. I remember that." He grinned and leaned down, kissed her again. His heart felt about ten times its normal size, swollen from this feeling…this love…he'd found when she'd come into his life. He drew back and gazed at her. "I love you, Jane." He grinned. "Now it's also the place I told you I loved you for the second time."

Her eyes lit up. "I love you, too," she said. She raised up and pressed a long kiss to his lips. "And I love this place even more now."

He could have stayed there forever, he thought as she hugged him, in front of their old elementary school, out in the negative degree temperatures, as long as he was in her arms and she was in his.

"What are we going to do about Ken?"

Schwartz sighed and kissed her forehead, then met her now worried eyes. "I don't know. Farkus said he'd tell me when he's released, and I haven't heard anything. He must not have made bail yet."

Jane frowned. "But he will."

He wasn't sure how to reassure her, because he wasn't sure what to do. "He'll probably go home. That would be the smart thing for him to do, wouldn't it?"

She smiled sarcastically. "He doesn't often do the smart thing."

"Hey." He lifted her bowed head by her chin. Her eyes began to shine with tears, making his heart ache. "We'll figure it out. And whatever we do, we'll do it together. I'm not going anywhere, whether you like it or not."

She smiled, though a tear dropped from her eyelashes. "Good."

"I'll keep you safe, Janey. I promise." How, Schwartz didn't know. But he meant it. And he would do whatever he had to in order to do so. He'd talk to Farkas, see if he had any suggestions. He'd quit his job and stay with her wherever she went, if he had to.

Jane reached up and gently touched his cheek, right where the bruising was. "And I'll keep you safe," she said, though her voice trembled slightly.

"I'm counting on it." He kissed her forehead again, and she came back into his arms. He held her as tightly as he could, desperate to stop her from shaking the way she was.

"I'm still hungry," she mumbled against his shoulder, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Lets go home, then."

She lifted her head and smiled sweetly at him. "Home?"

Schwartz felt his cheeks warm, but he grinned through it. "You said I was your home. You're my home, too, Janey."

Her eyes filled with tears, but these tears, he knew, were not of pain but of joy. And when she started to laugh, so did he. When she pulled back and gripped his hands, when she started spinning him around like they were in fourth grade again, he laughed even harder. And when she stopped spinning, leaving him dizzy, when she reached up to grip his face, he lowered it to her.

"Happy New Year, Paul," she whispered.

He was about to return the sentiment, but she kissed him.

And he figured a kiss told her the same thing, anyway.