Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)
They walked in silence once again, each of them aware of the other and yet thoughtful as they continued down the path. They'd managed to walk for several more hours – more slowly than they'd have liked thanks to growing soreness in their feet, but steadily – each of them squeezing the other's hand now and then as a reminder that they were still there. That would prompt them to glance up, smiling happily. Seeing each other smile was a novelty of which they both felt like they would never get enough.
The sun wasn't yet low, but it had moved noticeably across the sky, and the clouds that had brought them so much rain that morning had all but completely disappeared. It had turned into a sunny afternoon, and to their surprise, it was actually feeling rather hot. Kurt's watch told him that it was three o'clock, which explained why the heat had begun to feel so intense. Though they were both tired, they were also thankful that there were still at least a few hours left before the sun began to set, since they'd had several setbacks that day and needed to continue moving forward.
"We should stop for a minute," Kurt told her at one point.
Though of course it was something that they should have considered even when the weather was overcast, the realization that the sun had been beating down on them for a few hours had reminded him that if they weren't careful, they could end up with a pretty nasty sunburn – Jane especially, being fairer skinned than he was. When he stopped, she turned and looked at him curiously as he once again set down his pack in the grass alongside the path, now dried out by the sun from the morning's rain, and began rummaging around inside it. "What's up?" she asked, waiting for an explanation.
"A blast from the past," he replied cryptically, a slow grin creeping across his face. She wondered what he might mean by that, and continued to watch him with interest as he searched with great determination for something that seemed to be buried deep in his backpack. Finally, he stood back up triumphantly, holding a bottle of sunblock. "We both need this, but especially you," he told her. "You'll be bright red by the time we get off this mountain, otherwise, if the weather continues like this."
"You have sunblock with you, too?" she asked, slightly awed. "Is there anything you don't have in there?"
"Coffee," he lamented, answering far more quickly than she'd expected. She'd actually meant the question rhetorically, because of course he had only the basics with him. "I can't take credit for most of it, though," he admitted. "I guess Patterson was worried about me running off to look for you with only the shirt on my back. That, and you know how she hates to sleep when there's a crisis… she made lists and did research like you can't believe. One of her first projects after you'd… left…"
He faltered slightly on the word, but kept going, maintaining eye contact as they both watched the other flinch, but not look away. "…Was she made me this checklist – things to bring with me if I decided to trek to the end of the Earth in search of you. I think that was actually almost the title of the list, believe it or not," he told her with a chuckle. Stopping to think for a minute, he nodded. "Yep, the list was called, Things To Bring When You Travel the World Searching For Jane. And sunblock was on there." His smile faded then, thinking about their three friends who, for whatever reason, had gone missing not long before he'd taken matters into his own hands and left on the journey that had led him to her.
"We're going to find them," she promised softly, noticing his distress. He just nodded, moving his head faster than necessary to bring himself back to the present time.
"Yeah," he agreed quietly. Then, a smile slowly creeping back onto his face, he opened the cap of the sunblock. "Let's do this and then get moving again," he said. From the look on his face, it was clear that he was thinking of the same memory that she was – their weekend at the beach a few years back. When she just stood there watching him, he smiled and shook his head at her. "Turn around, please," he coaxed her, at which time she smiled right back at him and did as she was told. Before their beach weekend, she'd never thought of sunblock as something she liked, but she had quickly changed her mind.
He squeezed a small amount into his hand – he hadn't packed a spray bottle, since he'd been going for the most efficient form of everything in his packing – and rubbed his hands together. The sun had gotten hot as they'd walked, and she'd taken off her t-shirt a while back, leaving her now in a gray tank top. Her hair may have been much longer than it had been when he'd last seen her, but from what he could tell, a white t-shirt was apparently the only addition to her wardrobe. For Jane, simple had always been the key word. Though it wouldn't have mattered what she'd worn, of course, he felt comforted by the fact that she still dressed the same way as she always had. He knew why she'd left, that she hadn't been trying to change – quite the opposite, she hadn't wanted to change. Still, the familiar things about her were reassuring to him.
First, since there was now sunblock on most of his hands, he used his pinkie fingers, which had the least of it on them, to hook underneath the narrow fabric of her tank top that sat on her shoulders, also grabbing the straps of her sports bra underneath. He let the knuckle on each pinkie drag gently along her shoulder as he tugged the pieces of cloth slowly as far towards the outside of her shoulders as possible, giving himself more space to work – and if he was being honest, just enjoying the chance to see and to touch her bare skin.
This first task completed, he slowly and gently laid his hands on the top of her shoulders on either side of the base of her neck, letting them linger in one place for a few seconds while his thumbs fanned lightly across her skin. It wasn't exactly the same as the first time he'd applied sunblock to her, or any of the times he'd done it that weekend, but it was similar enough to evoke a very strong memory of a very happy weekend. It had been so long ago, and yet it felt as though no time at all had passed.
She would have been lying if she'd said she wasn't enjoying this. After all, ever since she'd spent the weekend with him at that tiny little beach house where they'd been forced – well, maybe forced was the wrong word, though it had been a little awkward at first – to share a bedroom, sunblock had taken on a whole new meaning. After all, it had given them an excuse to let their hands explore each other's skin, which was a lot more than had ever happened up to that point…
Just then, as she felt happiness rush through her at the memory, it was as though her body sent out an opposing force to stop that feeling. You can't possibly think you deserve that kind of happiness, a voice in her head boomed. Doubt surged through her anew, and for a few seconds she wondered if that voice was right, if she didn't deserve that happy memory.
He was standing behind her, watching her intently, his fingers pressed into her back and shoulders. Without her saying a word, and even though he was standing behind her, he could tell a lot about how she was feeling. He'd always been good at reading her, and he didn't seem to have lost his touch. Though he couldn't see it from behind her, he could tell that her smile had faded quickly. It wasn't because of what he was doing, he was fairly sure, but because of whatever was going on in her head. She'd tensed all over, standing rigidly as if expecting to be attacked. Had he been facing her, he would have seen that her smile had been replaced with a look of alarm. Still, he could see enough to know that her mind was taking her places she didn't want to be.
"Don't think, okay?" he whispered to her, leaning closer so that his breath tickled her cheek. He didn't move away, and his face was so close to hers that when her head tilted a few inches towards him instinctively, her cheek made contact with his. He continued to rub the sunblock into her skin, far more thoroughly than necessary, just as he had each time that weekend that they'd been at the beach. She didn't reply, but he felt her breath catch inside her, and he turned his head so that he could kiss her cheek, then closed the distance again to rest his forehead against her temple for several seconds. "It's going to be okay," he murmured, his hands still moving slightly on her neck and shoulders, but more for comfort than for spreading sunblock.
The fact that he obviously felt like he needed to keep saying that – and even more than that, the fact that he was right, that that was what she needed to hear, made her feel worse somehow. She tried not to overthink it, but in this situation, it seemed impossible. There was just so much baggage, so many mistakes…
"Just think about that weekend at the beach," he whispered in her ear. "And how we ended up tricked by Sarah into sharing a room for the weekend. And how happy we ended up being that she did that to us," he added softly. Little by little, he felt her relax. "That's better," he whispered beside her ear. With the thumb on his right hand, he began to trace the tattoo of the oil derrick that stuck out from beneath her tank top, moving the fabric down slightly to follow the lines, then gently moving back up, letting the fabric return to where it sat naturally.
Feeling herself blush slowly, she hoped that it was only her face that was turning pink, since he couldn't see that part of her as well at the moment. Instead, she tried to concentrate on the feel of his hands on her skin, and she told herself for the thousandth time that she'd been crazy to think that she could live without him. Her head dropped to her chest so that he had the best access to her neck, and she heard him chuckle behind her.
"I'm just trying to be helpful," she mumbled, then heard his chuckle become a laugh.
"So nice of you," he told her, and she could actually feel his smile. Not only that, but she could hear it in his voice as it focused directly on her. He'd stopped to trace the lines of ink on her back, but now his hands flattened against her skin again, moving to her neck. This made her shiver, and she had a feeling that he felt it too. Finally, he tugged the straps back up onto her shoulders, letting his hands rest there for a few seconds.
"All done?" she asked, turning to look at him over her shoulder.
"Not quite," he replied, lifting his hands reluctantly, and squeezing more sunblock on his hand, rubbing it together with the other one again.
It seemed like he'd more than finished putting sunblock on her back, so she wasn't sure where else he intended to rub the lotion into. When she felt his hands on her shoulders, this time on the outside of her tank top straps, she looked over her shoulder at him again. She could have easily reached her own shoulders, after all. He began to run his hands down her arms, dragging slowly and rubbing sunblock around her arms as he went. She smiled at him, slightly confused but with no complaints.
"I could have done that part," she observed with a smile. "Though I certainly have no objections to what you're doing."
"Just because you can do it doesn't mean you have to," he told her sincerely, finishing up the sunblock on her arms. "And that doesn't just go for sunblock, either," he added, kissing the back of her head as he finished her arms. He was conscious of the fact that they needed to keep walking, but this was important. Sunburn was one problem that they could avoid, after all. And besides, they both needed this connection as much as needed air and water and food. "Okay, turn around," he told her.
She did as he asked, now standing to face him, looking up into his eyes and smiling slowly. Picking up the sunblock bottle from where he'd dropped it by his feet, he squeezed a little more on his fingers and then left dots of it on her cheeks, forehead and chin before rubbing them in. She kept her eyes on him for as long as she could, but the feeling was so soothing that before he was done rubbing in the sunblock on her face, her eyes had closed on their own, against her will.
Watching the smile remain on her face, he knew that she was doing better. When his fingers had finished rubbing all of the sunblock into her face, he brought his hand to a stop against her cheek, feeling her immediately leaning into it. Her eyes opened then, and she beamed up at him.
"Your turn," she whispered. "Before we lose too much time." He nodded, handing her the sunblock that he was holding in his other hand and reluctantly letting the hand on her face fall back to his side. Now she repeated the process in reverse, starting with his face since he happened to be facing her already.
When she didn't let herself think, as he'd directed her, they could almost be back at that beach where she'd worn the red bikini. Where they'd been so happy.
Even that weekend wasn't all fun and games, the voice in her headed reminded her. There had been thoughts of Taylor, of self-doubt because of the tattoos, among other things. And yet, they'd not only gotten through it, but they'd had what they both remembered as a magical weekend, despite the bumps. Maybe that's what this would be as well. Maybe when they looked back, this would just be one of the bumps that didn't look as appalling as it did to her at that moment. He seemed so certain, after all…
"Alright, turn around," she told him, finished stroking his face with sunblock. As much as she'd liked to have done it all day, they needed to move. Earlier, he had been wearing a dark blue, casual button down shirt – a strange choice for a trek into the mountains, but a very Kurt Weller-esque one. A while back, however, he'd taken that layer off, just as Jane had, and was now wearing a plain white t-shirt. Knowing that the angle wasn't ideal for her to reach his neck, he lowered himself to kneel on the ground, hoping that the position wouldn't remind her of things that they'd both rather forget. After all, twice she'd been forced to her knees and told to put her hands behind her head. Once at the very beginning, by a man in a biohazard suit who'd thought the bag that she'd crawled out of had contained a bomb or contagion, and the second time by… him. Kurt. He had done that to her as well.
Still, there was no rock to sit down on, so he knelt on the ground, looking back up at her over his shoulder apologetically.
She knew that he was lowering himself towards the ground so that she could reach his neck better, but for a second she had just the flashback that he'd hoped she wouldn't – of herself kneeling on the ground in front of him as he handcuffed her roughly, refusing to listen to her pleas to let her explain. A chill ran through her before she could stop it, but that was when she noticed that he'd turned to watch her over his shoulder. The look on his face was apologetic, and he smiled at her sadly. She shook her head at him, smiling with some effort as she forced the painful memory to the back of her mind. It would always be there, but it didn't have to control her.
Squeezing a small amount of sunblock onto her hand, she let the bottle fall to the ground and rubbed her hands together, then worked the sunblock into the small amount of exposed skin inside the neckline of his shirt and up his neck. When she'd finished, she leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, something that he often did to her but that she normally wasn't tall enough to do in return.
He couldn't help but smile, admiring the strength he watched her display. The memory had clearly affected her, and yet as he watched, she pushed through it, smiling genuinely at him. She had won that battle, no matter how small. If nothing else, it was a starting point.
All too soon, she was finished rubbing sunblock on his neck and arms, and he stood up and dusted himself off, putting the sunblock away. "Sorry about the, uh…" he apologized awkwardly, glancing at the ground and then back at her, not wanting to actually say the words, but wanting her to know that he had made the connection to his kneeling on the ground as well.
Shaking her head dismissively, she managed a smile, inhaling deeply through her mouth and finding that she didn't have to work as hard as she'd expected to feel a sense of peace. Slowly, she was learning to be okay with the things that had happened, and it was like an epiphany. The rest would take a while, however, it gave her hope.
"If I'm not allowed to apologize, then you shouldn't be either," she told him, her smile increasing. "Unless you've done something new?" she teased him, raising her eyebrows playfully.
"Nope, don't think so," he replied, taking her hand again and tugging her forward, once again starting along the path.
"Alright, good to know," she said with a smile. "Then no more apologizing for things in the past. That goes for both of us." There was a decisive tone in her voice. He wasn't sure if she'd manage to follow this new rule she'd just made, but he liked the sound of it, anyway. It was something to shoot for.
"It's a deal," he said, stopping again even though they'd just started walking. Dropping her hand, he wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly. He wasn't sure where the urge had come from to do so at that moment, but he was powerless to resist it – not that he'd wanted to – and she hugged him right back. Too soon again, of course, they were stepping back from the embrace and once again simply holding hands, continuing along the path. He had already begun to consider that it would only be a few more hours before they needed to set up camp for the night. Though he wished they'd been able to get further on their first day trekking down the mountain, they had done their best. Now he just wanted to get to the point where he got to curl up with her for a few hours – the sooner the better.
Soon, he told himself, as they walked through the hot afternoon sunshine beside her, squeezing her hand slightly.
It felt like barely any time at all later when the sun was sinking into the distance behind the other side of the mountains and, since the light would be gone soon, they needed to start thinking about a camp for the night. Shelter was even too generous a word for what they would have, and they really just had to hope that it didn't start raining again. Kurt didn't have a tent with him, but he had several tarps, which would have to do, and, thankfully, one dry sleeping bag – it had been inside a tightly closed waterproof bag.
Once they'd found a place to make camp for the night, lamenting the lack of trees to be able to use one of the tarps to create any semblance of shelter against any further possible rain, they went about setting things up as quickly as they could. Laying out the same tarp that they'd sat on earlier, they put down their heavy packs but did not sit down, knowing that they wouldn't want to get back up again any time soon. They'd walked straight through the afternoon with barely any stops, knowing that they needed to make up for lost time, and they were feeling the effects of the exertion.
He pulled out the sleeping bag and set it in the middle of the tarp, curious to see her reaction.
"Did you bring one of those for me, too?" she called jokingly as she collected rocks nearby to make a circle around the campfire that they would build.
"Sorry," he replied, shaking his head. "What you see is what we have. But, uh…" he suddenly felt awkward, but was determined to say it anyway. "You can take it." He walked over to where she was picking up rocks, and she put what ones she'd collected on the ground and stood up.
"If you think that I'm going to let you freeze out here in the night air, you're mistaken," she told him. "Besides, I happen to know that we can share one of those just fine." She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, grinning, and his uncertainty disappeared. Sometimes, like now, he had to remind himself that she hadn't left him because he'd done something wrong, but because she'd wanted to protect him. There was a lot of baggage between them but when it came down to it, they loved each other. He hadn't known for so long why she'd left, his mind had gone through every frightening possibility and it was hard to deprogram himself now and forget them all.
Of course she remembers, he thought, a smile working its way across his face. Sharing a sleeping bag shouldn't be something you forget… unless of course someone wipes your memory.
"Oh, you think we can share, then?" he asked with a smile. Despite his relief at her words, his tone was still uncertain. He laid his hands lightly on her biceps and then let them skim slowly down her arms, stopping at her wrists, and just stood there looking at her.
"I know we can," she replied. "If it's okay with you."
He scoffed slightly, but the sound came out less as the laugh that he'd intended it to, his face momentarily reflecting the strain of the past months. He regained his composure quickly, however, pulling his mouth into a slightly strained smile and nodding, slowly leaning closer to her. "It's more than okay with me," he whispered, seeing her face soften with emotion as well before she simply laid her head against his chest, then nodded against him.
Letting go of her wrists, his arms wound around her back, pulling her into a tight hug. He felt like he should say something, but he got the feeling that as they stood there simply leaning into each other and breathing in sync, her arms now around him gently as well, they were saying all that needed to be said just then.
However, they weren't done setting up their camp. Leaning back, he kissed her on the forehead and mumbled, "Let's finish setting up camp, and then we can rest, okay?" Once again, she just nodded, and they let their arms drop, kneeling down to make a large enough circle of rocks for their campfire. Jane hadn't quite gathered enough yet, so they took a few more minutes to scout the immediate area, bringing back rocks as well as what brush they could find. Luckily, there was a cluster of bushes that appeared to have been killed by a drought, and they broke pieces off of them, carrying as many as they could.
Back at their "camp," they filled in the rest of the circle of rocks and built up a decent pile of sticks and twigs – calling it firewood would have been a little too generous – to get their fire started, laying out the extras off to the side a safe distance away.
"We should go back and collect more branches for later," Kurt suggested. Despite how much she was looking forward to sitting down, Jane agreed. Otherwise, they would either have to deal with a dying fire or a search in the dark, neither of which were good options.
Nodding in agreement, she simply reached out for his hand. Only after he took hers did she move, however. She could feel her strength draining out of her, but she could draw from his.
Between the two of them they amassed an impressive pile of kindling keep the fire going later, setting it with the rest of the extra they'd already collected. The next order of business was to take out the second tarp that Kurt had, folded up very small, in his backpack. When spread out, however, it was very large. After spreading it out to its full size, they removed their wet clothes from their backpacks, laying them all out in the hopes that they would dry. Unless it rained, they couldn't get wetter, at least.
Next, Kurt lit the fire, so that just as the light was beginning to fade around them, the campfire gave them light and warmth. Hopefully, it would also help their things dry, as well.
"We should let our boots sit out and dry the rest of the way," Jane suggested as they finally sat down on the tarp beside the sleeping bag. Once they took them off, however, they found that their socks, now slightly wet from the dampness of their boots, made their feet cold. In order to let those dry out as well, they removed their socks and added them to the tarp full of items that were drying by the fire. Sitting down next to the sleeping bag, they both realized just how sore their feet were from the day's punishing walk, covered in blisters. Despite how much they hurt, Jane was so exhausted all over that she managed to ignore her feet, at least for the time being.
"Let's get something to eat, and then we should get some rest," Kurt said, thinking aloud, as he took the food out of his backpack along with a bottle of water. "Besides, it's starting to get chilly, and the sleeping bag is probably the only warm and dry thing we have." They shared a knowing look, both familiar with the fact that they would be the heat source and the sleeping bag would be keeping the heat in. It was anything but an unpleasant thought, it was just… well, their sleeping conditions weren't exactly conducive to easing back into things between them.
There were a few dumplings left, enough for each of them to have two and to split a third one. It wasn't a lot of food, but it was something, and they hesitated to open the next wrapped bundle that the monks had given them, not wanting to exhaust their food supply too fast. They hadn't gotten as far that day as they should have, and they needed their food to last at least until they reached the village at the base of the mountain.
They ate in silence, looking into the fire and occasionally glancing at each other and smiling, passing the water bottle back and forth. When they were finished, they brushed their teeth, and then took turns disappearing out of the other's view for a few minutes before coming back to double check that they had all of their wet things laid out on the tarp that needed to be there, their backpacks at the edge closest to the fire since they had absorbed the brunt of the rain.
"That just leaves what we're wearing," Kurt observed, and Jane swore he was grinning just a little. Her shirt had dried but the rest of her clothes did still feel the slightest bit soggy, she had to admit…
Taking a step toward him but stopping about a foot away, she looked up at him, pretending to narrow her eyes accusingly although they were sparkling happily. "Is that your way of getting me to take my clothes off? So that they can dry?" she asked him, trying not to laugh.
"Hey, I just know that wet clothes get cold, and we need to stay warm," he replied innocently, holding up his hands in front of him in surrender. "Better safe than sorry." She chuckled, shaking her head at him, and watching as he began to pull off his t-shirt. "You wear whatever you want," he told her. From the look on his face, she could see that he meant it sincerely. That was one of the many things that she loved about him – as much as he loved to joke, he always seemed to know when to be serious, as well.
However, as much as it may or may not have been a ploy to get her partially naked, he wasn't wrong about their clothes needing to dry. And so what if he had been making up the excuse – which he wasn't, anyway. They were married, not strangers, and certainly closer now than the first time they'd shared a sleeping bag with only some of their clothes on.
Shaking her head at the situation, and at him, she turned around and slowly and very self-consciously began removing her clothes, laying them out on the second tarp as well. When she'd finished and turned around to find him already lying in the sleeping bag, the firelight throwing shadows in the falling darkness, the only thing she was wearing was the oversized white t-shirt she'd had on earlier. It had dried in the sun already, and she'd actually taken it back out to put it on, not quite feeling right standing there in nothing.
Since she'd been turned around while he'd gotten undressed and climbed into the sleeping bag, she had no idea what he'd ended up wearing, if anything, so her level of anticipation rose slightly. Not that it wasn't perfectly fine if he was completely naked. It wasn't as though it had never happened before, of course. It just wasn't exactly an everyday situation, and there was still quite a bit of awkwardness between them. It had just been a very, very long time.
Turning away from the fire beside them, Jane looked down at him, already lying inside the sleeping bag, which was unzipped down to just above where she imagined his knees to be, with the flap closed. She stepped across the small space between the two tarps, and walked toward the sleeping bag slowly, feeling herself pulled in by his smile as if by magnetic force, but at the same time hesitating, moving more slowly the closer she got to him.
Kneeling on the tarp beside the sleeping bag, she watched him as he smiled back at her. There was a hint of teasing, but there was also a softness and love in the look he was giving her. She knew that look, she realized. It was the Just For Jane smile, the one that told her without words that he loved her. Her eyes darted down and then back up to his nervously, now simply kneeling beside the sleeping bag and not sure what to do next.
Shifting slightly, he reached his right hand toward her, resting it lightly on her bare knee and watching her focus on his fingers uncertainly. "I'm not going to bite, I promise," he told her softly, trying to lighten the suddenly tense situation with humor. Laughing nervously, she smiled and looked back up into his eyes, feeling slightly better but still unsure. As she watched, he pushed himself up onto his side and scooted back slightly, but as far as the sleeping bag would allow, then pushed back the flap of the sleeping bag. Patting the empty space that he'd created, he was still looking at her with that expression that said everything she needed to hear before he'd opened his mouth. "Your spot's right here," he told her. She couldn't help but notice with a quick glance that like her, he had taken off nearly, though not quite everything. The one item he'd kept on were his boxers.
Her smile slowly spread across her face at his words, and she moved forward towards him, trying to remember how she'd done this years ago – getting into the same sleeping bag. She remembered that it hadn't been easy, and that it had just taken some getting used to. Very slowly, she managed to get her feet inside, and then laid herself down with little if any space between them, propping herself up on her right elbow just as he was doing on his left, their faces only inches apart. As if in slow motion, he reached his right arm slowly and carefully over her, somehow finding the zipper that seemed out of his reach as he leaned carefully against her, pulling the sleeping back closed inch by slow inch.
"We need to preserve all the heat we can, and keep out as many bugs as possible," he told her when he leaned back slightly.
"Which are absolutely true, but I don't think they're the reasons why you wanted to do that," she said teasingly.
"Busted," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he grinned at her. Yet again as he stared at her, so close in front of him, he was overwhelmed.
I got Jane back.
It was the only thing he'd wanted for so long, there were moments where the reality of the situation overwhelmed him and just looking at her was enough to overload his senses.
They were now zipped in together, with almost no space in between them, and she simply smiled back at him as she looked into his eyes. He was looking at her just as intensely, if not more so, and for a few minutes neither of them spoke, content to just look at each other. His right hand rested in between them, as did her left, but their hands were not touching each other. It was as though now that they were there, so very close together, neither of them were quite certain what the other wanted, and both of them were too hesitant to ask or to guess.
Ever so slowly, his right hand reached out to cover her left, and he watched as she inhaled a deep, shaky breath, but didn't pull away. He kept his hand over hers, watching her closely for signs of discomfort, ready to let go if she flinched. She was breathing very deliberately now, he noticed, as though, if she didn't concentrate, she might forget to do so at all. Once again moving slowly, he curled his fingers around her hand and tugged it toward him, lifting it slowly and pressing it against his chest. Together, their hands sat over his heart, his hand still covering hers. The gesture did not require explanation, of course. All by itself, it took them both back to the beginning, whispering in her ears.
Keep breathing, Jane.
You're my starting point.
She still felt it, every bit of the emotion that she'd expected to as she'd laid down next to him, and even more, if that was possible. Managing to keep her breathing steady, she felt her heart racing in her chest. They had been here – well, not here in Tibet, but here as in this close together – many times before, and yet even so… it felt completely new. Deciding not to complicate things by thinking of the past, she made a conscious effort to focus only on that moment, and on the feeling of his heartbeat beneath her hand. It seemed to race just as fast as hers, she noticed, and she couldn't help but smile.
"It's going to be okay, Jane," she heard him say, and looked at him in surprise. After all, she'd just been saying the exact same thing inside her head, so it felt more than a little strange to hear it coming from his lips at the same time. It shouldn't have, however. They'd had that kind of a connection almost from the beginning.
When her mouth curled into a smile, he couldn't help but feel relief flooding his veins. Just then it was as though every tiny movement or expression of hers was of critical importance – even more so than they had ever been before.
She nodded ever so slightly in agreement, wanting to believe that it was going to be okay. After all, she felt better, safer, here with him. It was tempting to believe that there was nothing they couldn't face together… Hadn't they made it this far, after all?
Her thoughts attempted to go back six months, to when she'd decided to leave in order to keep him safe. She said nothing, didn't even feel as though her breathing had changed, but it must have somehow shown on her face, she decided, because Kurt shook his head slowly, closing his fingers around hers just a little tighter, and leaned forward slowly to kiss her forehead. Once again, after the slow, sweet kiss was finished, he kept his forehead leaned against hers at her hairline, feeling her lean right back against his as well.
We can do this, she thought in awe. It was terrifying to let herself believe it, but what if it was the truth?
It wasn't yet late, but already the light was almost completely gone, and she was glad that they'd set up camp when they had. After the intense and exhausting day they'd had, it wouldn't have surprised her if she'd fallen asleep immediately, despite how badly she normally slept. However, lying there beside him and looking into his eyes, she felt completely awake. Now deciding to give her shoulder a rest, she folded her arm back and leaned down so that she was using her elbow as a pillow, looking up at him.
Mirroring her movement only a few seconds later, he folded his arm behind him and laid down against his own elbow, as well, wanting to keep his face at the same level as hers. He wanted to be absolutely as close to her as possible. After just a few seconds, with only the light and the slight noise of the crackling fire, he lifted his head just enough to be able to move closer to her, ever so slowly, keeping his eyes on hers for signs of distress, but finding none.
She watched him moving towards her as if in slow motion. Despite the short distance, he was moving so slowly that it was several seconds before he stopped, about as close as he could be to her without touching her. He lasted a second there before closing the rest of the almost invisible distance between them, touching the tip of his nose to the tip of hers. Still watching her despite how close together they were, he looked for signs of hesitation or discomfort, but found none. "Just stop me if—" He'd been going to tell her to stop him if she was uncomfortable, but instead found the she'd closed the rest of the distance between their lips and was kissing him, slowly and tenderly, her hand sliding off of his heart and up to his shoulder.
There had been times when things had moved quickly between them, but this was not one of them. Just then, they both felt the need to take things as slowly as possible, savoring every second. It was "fast" enough that they'd ended up in the sleeping bag together almost completely naked, out of sheer logistical necessity, when their emotions were still so raw. Still, it didn't take too long before their one item of clothing each was one too many, and they had to wiggle creatively to find the space to remove them.
"Just don't toss my shirt onto the fire, please," she whispered, to his amusement.
"It doesn't really suit you anyway…" he teased. "You don't usually wear baggy shirts."
"Very funny," she growled as he pretended to consider which way to toss her shirt. "I don't have all that many shirts to start with." Reaching across him, she snagged it from him and threw in onto the tarp, where it landed beside the rest of her clothes. Having taken care of that problem, she looked down and now found herself draped halfway over him, which made her blush. And yet, she didn't move away. If anything, she slowly moved closer.
He had missed everything about her, even the things she did that frustrated him, but as they bantered back and forth in between kisses, he couldn't help but feel an ache over how very much he had missed it all. She'd pushed herself partway over him in order to grab and then toss away her shirt, which he had decidedly not been about to throw on the fire, of course… but if it worked as an excuse to get her this close to him, then it worked for him.
Now they stared into each other's eyes yet again – it felt as though they'd been doing that a lot since he'd arrived in the tent where he'd found her – his chest aching with how very much he'd missed her and literally nothing, not even cloth, between them any longer. For a second, time stood still as they smiled at each other knowingly, and after that things began moving more quickly between them, as, without a word, they made up for lost time.
Later, as the fire crackled beside them, she laid against his shoulder, her eyes closed, focusing on the random lines that he was drawing on her back with his fingers. She liked when he traced the lines of ink, but she liked it just as much when he simply skimmed his fingers over her skin without looking at the lines, the way he was now.
"Are you warm enough?" he whispered.
She just nodded against him. "Mmmhhhmmmmm," she mumbled contentedly. "I have my own personal furnace." He chuckled then, tugging her to him a little tighter.
"Good," he said with satisfaction. "And now we need to sleep. We have another big day of walking tomorrow. There's still a long way to go."
"Mmmhhhmmmmm," she said again, feeling herself already drifting off to sleep, happier than she had felt in at least six months, or maybe, she couldn't help but think, happier than she had ever been. And then, before her brain shut down completely, she whispered in a voice slightly slurred with sleep, "I love you." She couldn't help but smile when his arms tightened around her and his face pressed into her hair, kissing her on the top of her head.
"I love you, too, Jane," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "So much. Now go to sleep. No one's going anywhere." She just nodded against him, feeling exhaustion finally overpowering her and in a few more seconds, she gave in to sleep.
Though he was also very tired, Kurt held on just a little longer. He took in the novelty of every bit of where they were and how close together they were. For a while, after they'd thought that Jane was Taylor, he'd let himself believe in miracles, but that belief had been crushed when his father had died, admitting his darkest secret. The fact that Bill Weller had killed Taylor Shaw had shattered Kurt, and for a long time he hadn't believed in anything. Now he couldn't help but believe in them once more, because how in the world was there any other explanation for the fact that this was happening – that he had found her, and that they were not too broken, after everything, after all?
Pulling her closer, he, too fell asleep.
The next morning dawned clear and bright, and though they'd had illusions about being up to begin walking before the sun rose, the sky was already bright before they even woke up. Kurt woke up first, but realizing that Jane was still asleep, he kept himself still. Though he could have easily have gone back to sleep, it wouldn't be an option at least until they were back in civilization, if not at home, so his mind did not even consider the possibility.
He wanted to stretch, and to put more sticks on the fire which had nearly gone out completely, so that they would be warmer as they got up and got ready to continue on. However, he couldn't bring himself to move as long as Jane slept so peacefully against him. He knew that he should wake her up, but he let himself watch her for just a little longer. It had been so long since he'd had the opportunity to do so, after all.
The sun was rising already, she could tell, even before she opened her eyes. The other thing she knew was that she was inside Kurt's sleeping bag, her arm draped across him and her head on his shoulder, his arm pulled around her back. She could not get over how very much she had missed this, and she couldn't help but smile as her chest ached with happiness. Though she had yet to open her eyes, she felt him shift slightly and she could tell that he knew she was awake.
"Good morning," he whispered. "Sorry there's no coffee today."
She smiled broadly then, finally opening her eyes and blinking as they adjusted to the light. "Good morning," she said softly, still in awe that she could actually talk to him, and that he wasn't a figment of her imagination or a voice in her head. The fact that she didn't just have to rely on her collection of memories of him, all of which had hurt to remember, was simply too good to be true. "Coffee would be great… But I have something even better." When he raised his eyebrows curiously and pretended not to know what she was talking about, she gave him a playful punch. "You of course, silly."
"Better than coffee?" he asked in mock surprise. "Wow… I'm moving up in the world."
"Haha," she replied, leaning up for a peck on the lips and then just looking into his eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the feeling of their bare skin lying against each other as his fingers moved slightly against her back, as if he wasn't sure that she wanted to be reminded that they'd taken off their clothes. She noticed that when she smiled at him in response to the slight motion, he moved his hand a little more, smiling back.
Having thought that she wouldn't ever see him again, everything, down to the slightest touch or the quickest glance from himwas now like an extra special gift that she had never expected.
As his fingers danced across her back, she closed her eyes again, suddenly overwhelmed by a swell of emotion. She felt tears threatening to fall, and for a second, she couldn't quite breathe properly. It was as though her insides were shaking, overcome by her feelings.
Biting her lip, she struggled through the moment, knowing the he was watching her with concern and therefore not surprised when he pulled her a little closer. "Sssshhhhh," he whispered, even though the most noise she'd made had been a swift intake of breath, which had hardly made a sound. It was more about quieting her mind than anything else. After all, he knew her better than she even knew herself sometimes, and it was plain to him that she was overcome. He felt it, too. His right hand moved up her back to the back of her neck, his fingers circling soothingly against her skin, his left arm pulling tighter around her back.
It was now the second day that he'd woken up with her, but in some ways it was like a new beginning. That first night, they'd simply fallen asleep where they were – they'd just happened to have been sitting on her bed at the time and had succumbed to exhaustion. This time, they had very deliberately chosen where and how they had slept, and had chosen to remove what little clothing they'd had on. While it had been a partially rational decision to let their clothes dry, in the end it had been an emotional one, as well.
She had shifted position and her left ear was now pressed against his chest, just over his heart, and she focused on the steady thu-thump, feeling a sense of calm as it slowly began to steady her again. His left cheek was pressed against her temple, the thick scruff there that had grown there during his long journey to find her pressing against her skin. It just made him that much more real to her. After a minute or so her breathing normalized again, and she felt a little steadier. Even knowing that she would have to sooner than later, she really didn't want to think about moving from the spot where she was.
There were a million things to say, and yet no words that properly expressed how either of them were feeling. Instead, they simply clung to each other anew, as though there was some danger of their being separated if they didn't. Turning to press his face against her skin, he pressed a kiss against her temple. "We need to get up," he whispered. Her only reply was to hold on tighter to him. While he agreed completely with the sentiment, it just wasn't a luxury that they had that day. "I know," he told her, his face leaned against her skin. "But we have to go. Don't worry, you're certainly not going to be going anywhere without me anytime soon."
"I know, I just…" She hadn't spoken for a little while, and she was annoyed to hear her voice breaking, despite having thought that she had calmed down.
"I know," he assured her soothingly. "Just keep breathing." They both smiled at the reference to so long ago, staring intensely into each other's eyes as he traced his fingers across her skin. "Five more minutes," he told her, and she nodded silently in agreement. No matter how long he'd suggested, it never would have been enough.
She intended to spend every second of those five minutes – not that they could exactly time it, since both of their phones were out of reach and possibly out of batteries by now – looking at him. After all, she had to make up for a lot of lost time.
