A/N: Hi guys! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for taking so long to update! I guess it's because I had this huge writer's block and with everything going on... The hiatus is over and so much has unfolded over the episodes and I just... Anyways, this chapter is a bit short and I don't really like it, but I had to put something up because I didn't want to leave you guys hanging ;) Enjoy!

Oh - panic-at-the-bistro - I do appreciate your comment about the clear dividing line between the two sides! Thanks for bringing it up! There's a reason why they're so obvious, though, and you'll find out soon, hopefully.

Now then...

Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing them.

"I - Uh, I'm just tired," Jane replies, softening her voice. "And the whole chase we just went through wore me out emotionally, I guess." She feels her brain buzz with triumph.

Kurt considers her. Was she telling the truth? He decides to ask her tomorrow, again, because really, it has been a hell of a day. "Okay, Jane. I'll see you in the morning, then." He opens the door and leaves, the door shutting with a decisive click.

Jane watches him go, wishing she wasn't so cowardly. But if she was honest with herself, she didn't want to lose that feeling of stability, the feeling of finally having the floor under her feet. She curls up again, her head resting on the back of the couch, staring at the empty wall, feeling as empty as it looked. She feels her eyes start to fall, feels them fall slowly like molasses, and she thinks that it's another battle she's losing. Maybe it's best to step away honourably, or fight until they all see the truth rearing its head.

She lets her eyes close, as if the darkness that covers her vision would shield her from reality. She's already caused too much damage. She's already resolved not to tell Kurt about it. What hasn't she done?

She feels a small stab of disgust from her brain. Or was it her heart? She couldn't tell anymore. Both were equally broken. Both were the same. What was the point of fighting now, really?

Should she run away? Should she go to work and pretend nothing is wrong? How could she, after learning that she, herself, was the mastermind behind her tattoos and memory wipe? Her brain's leaning toward running away, but her heart (or was it her brain?) tells her to go to work. She's confused, unsure of what to do.

She realizes that Weller would probably continue to question her tomorrow and the days after. Could she really lie? Could she tell him the truth? No, telling him the truth would hurt, because she basically used him in her plan, and she's already too far into whatever plan her former self had devised.

Tears slowly slip down her face, falling from her eyes like waterfalls. Disgusted, her brain shuts itself down, forcing her to go to sleep.

Jane wakes up stiff and cold after being curled up on the couch all night, her alarm upstairs blaring. Blinking sleep out of her eyes, she works the kinks out of her shoulders and back before heading upstairs to turn the alarm off and take a shower. She feels numb, unfeeling, as if her brain and her heart have agreed that they needed to shut down. Turning the shower on, hearing the water stream down, she wonders if she should go to work today. Maybe she should stay home.

As she steps into the warm water, she realizes that whatever mission her past self had planned, she couldn't put the team at risk.

Yet, if Oscar really had been watching her all along, then whoever he worked with must already have the team in their sights.

She agrees with her brain, feeling so moldable that she could have easily jumped off a cliff if someone had told her to. Numbly, she finishes up in the shower and steps out, glancing in the mirror as she does. She pauses, staring at her reflection in the mirror, looking so much more different than what she did the past few times.

Examining her reflection further, she even thinks that the ink on her skin has gotten darker, more noticeable. A trick of the light, she knows, but she can't help but think that the mission, whatever it is, had solidified her betrayal to the FBI.

I don't know you, she thinks. I don't know this person standing in front of the mirror.

Her brain shouts out, Obviously you're just imagining it! You know you're not any different than a few hours ago.

Mixing in with her brain, her heart cries out, But you are different! You just found out that you did this to yourself!

Jane shook her head violently at the argument inside her head. She couldn't tell what her heart said and what her brain said anymore. Peeling her eyes away from the mirror, she gets dressed and thinks about Oscar, about the video, about what she was going to tell Kurt. She scrunches up her face in almost physical pain at the thought of him. How was she going to say that she was leaving him because she had to keep him safe from whatever was going to happen to her?

She didn't know. Just like she couldn't tell the difference between her head and heart anymore, she didn't know what to tell Kurt, either. Maybe, hours ago, maybe she would have known, but now, she was just a shell that was being used to exploit crimes and complete a mission.

But hours ago, you wouldn't have this conversation. Hours ago, you wouldn't be having this war with yourself, because you were kissing Weller, her brain mumbles.

I don't know myself, she thinks. I don't know this person I am. I don't know who I was, what my motives were, and what my mission is. I don't know any of that, but already I've caused so much damage.

What has she become?

A/N: Likies? No? Ah, well, hopefully I can get something better out soon, with exams and all coming up.