I am pleased to present the final chapter. There is, perhaps, less nonsense than chapter 2, but much more of our beloved cupcakes.
After last night's episode (S1E10...Oh My GAH!), I feel ashamed to be posting this. The Jeller moments were incredible! Beautiful! This doesn't even come close. But, this story deserves an ending, so there you are.
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It turned out to be a surprisingly decent day.
Oh, he and Jane hadn't talked yet. At least, they hadn't talked about their week-old argument. So, that was still hanging over his head.
Still, the day had started out in an unusually pleasant way.
Kurt eased into consciousness, cataloging a myriad of sensations that weren't quite right. None of them seemed bad per se, just unfamiliar or out of place. A ray of early morning light slanted over his face. He might have forgotten to pull the blinds in his bedroom closed, but he couldn't remember opening them in the first place. The pillow that his face pressed into was thinner than he remembered his own being, and the fabric of the sheets seemed coarser, but the smell was Jane's. That helped to clear up a lot of his confusion.
Weller squinted around the room to confirm his suspicions. He remembered talking with Jane, of closing his eyes for just a moment. Clearly, that moment had turned into hours. He'd slept the night through - something he hadn't done easily in recent memory.
"Ba-ba-ba-ba."
Weller quickly turned his head towards the pack-n-play - and it's wide-awake occupant. At the sound of Kurt's movement, the boy looked up. Seeing Weller peering at him, the kid offered a gummy smile and more nonsense syllables.
"Good morning to you, too." Kurt's voice was rough with sleep, but that didn't seem to bother the boy. The kid pushed up onto hands and knees and scooted closer to the mesh side, still babbling. With immense effort and concentration, the baby pushed up even further, settling back to sit. Weller rolled out of bed and looked down at the kid who had both arms up in the air - part request, part demand.
It had been more than eight years since Kurt held a kid this young, but it was a bit like riding a bike. He scooped the child up and adjusted his grip until the kid felt secure. Brown eyes seriously studied Weller's face and a tiny hand came up to pat at Kurt's habitual stubble. The sensation must have tickled, because the boy let out a gurgle of laughter before continuing to poke at Weller's face. Kurt can't help but smile in return.
"Good morning." Jane's voice came from the doorway, and both Weller and the kid turned their eyes towards her. Kurt thought that it was one of the best ways to start the day: seeing Jane smiling at him. At the moment, in fact, he couldn't think of anything better.
Or, maybe it was the baby she was smiling at. It was probably the kid. After the things he'd said to her a week ago, he couldn't think of any reason why she'd be smiling at him.
The kid seemed to agree that Jane was there just for him, and he reached out his arms towards Jane, kicking his legs in excitement. "Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba!" He said emphatically.
Jane came further into the room, holding out her hands for the child. "Morning to you, too, monkey."
Kurt allowed Jane to take possession of the kid. "I'm sorry." It was the first thing he could think to say. "I didn't mean to fall asleep last night."
Jane shook her head and brushed off the apology. "I think you needed it. Besides, we're friends, right?" Before Weller could respond, Jane started back towards the door. "There's breakfast, if you're hungry." She paused and looked back over her shoulder at him. "Come out to the kitchen whenever you're ready." And then she was gone.
They'd had just enough time to finish a simple breakfast - bagels and fruit for the adults, bananas, yogurt, and Cherrios for the baby - when Patterson called with an update. She scraped together crumbs of evidence to determine that the adoption agency was, for the most part, legitimate. There was a small group of employees, though, who took "special orders" from wealthy clients. To fill those orders, the suspects would identify and abduct children who had the characteristics the clients requested.
The remainder of the day was spend rounding up the members of group responsible and compiling information about the abducted children and the families that had purchased them. Proving that there was no honor among thieves, the suspects were practically falling over themselves cooperate with the Feds and to implicate the others.
As a perfect capper, the boy was finally identified - seven month old Lorenzo Fuller - and was reunited with his frantic parents.
Weller saw Jane frowning thoughtfully after the Fullers as they were escorted to the elevator. "Is everything okay," he asked with concern.
Jane offered him a sad smile and explained. "I was thinking about the other kids that were sold. They are going back to their families, and that's good, but," she shook her head. "I can't help but think about how hard the adjustment will be for them - especially the older ones."
Kurt sighed. It was something that had crossed his mind as well. The kids were caught between the greed of the criminals and the clients who used their wealth to dictate the qualities of the children they adopted. Lacking any profound insights, he touched her arm and said, "let me take you home."
They were quiet on the ride, and the silence seemed grow heavier as they got closer to the safe house. Weller parked and stilled for a moment, still not saying a word. Jane made no move to exit the vehicle. How did she know that Kurt was working his way around to something?
"Can I come in for a minute, Jane?" That sentence was agony to choke out. Weller knew they needed to talk. He needed to talk. He couldn't shake the conviction that their conversation would confirm that he had lost something precious to him.
The thought made him sick.
Jane led the way into the house. Without asking, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of bottles of water. She handed one to Kurt. Then she settled on the couch and looked at him expectantly.
Ill at ease, Weller sat stiffly on the arm chair closest to Jane.
The silence continued to press down.
Putting off the inevitable, Kurt picked up a soft purple rabbit from the coffee table and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Jane smiled. "We made Reade pick up some supplies for Lorenzo. That was his choice."
Picturing his dapper team member picking out diapers and children's toys, Kurt chuckled. He stopped, feeling a bit foolish, when he noticed that Jane's smile had grown wider.
"It's good to see you smile," she confessed.
"Jane," he breathed, his brow wrinkled in confusion. "Why don't you hate me?"
"Weller," she protested, but he interrupted.
"After I said...after I told you..." Kurt found that he couldn't bring himself to repeat the final words he had spat at her before storming out of the office.
"After you told me that you didn't need me."
Weller nodded miserably and refused to meet her gaze.
"Is it true?"
Jane's tone was mild, but the question pained him. He shook his head and mouthed the word, "no." His tight throat wouldn't let any sound escape.
"It hurt." Jane admitted. "Hearing you say that I didn't know what you were going through, that I couldn't be what you needed," Kurt couldn't stop shaking his head. He wanted to cover his ears, to stop listening to Jane repeat his deliberately cruel words.
She reached out and captured one of his hands. "Kurt, stop! Stop it, and listen to me." She waited a beat. "Are you listening?" Weller drew in a shuddering breath and finally nodded. "Good." With his hand in her grasp, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on his skin, she continued. "I knew you were hurting, and I wanted to help. What I didn't pay attention to was you asking me to back off. That wasn't fair and I'm sorry. Yes, you fought back, and you fought back mean. So, neither one of us made the kindest choices. I am sorry. I was so focused on your pain that I ignored the fact that I was making it worse."
"Jane, no." Kurt finally found his voice again. "You didn't make anything worse."
Jane looked unconvinced, but she let him continue without debating the issue.
"Losing my dad," the jumble of words in his head didn't want to come out. "I felt so," was there really a word that would encompass the loss, the regret, the anger at the unfairness of it all? "If I'd let you get close, I would have grabbed on and maybe," a gasp of air to feed his burning lungs, "I might never," another wheezing gulp of air, "let go."
Jane shot to her feet and, with his hand still held in hers, tugged Kurt up, too. Her face was grim with hurt for him and she pulled him into her arms. His resistance crumbled after a moment and his arms wrapped around her. He knew he was holding on too tightly, that he would crush her if he didn't get a grip on his emotions, but that voice of reason was ignored by the instinct that had finally taken over. Kurt still felt stunned...appalled...when a sob welled up from the soles of his feet. He slouched to press his face against her shoulder, trying to muffle the sounds of his despair. He had tried to lock it away, had managed to ignore it for a week, but now that it had broken free, he was helpless to control it.
Jane stood strong under the onslaught, her hands rubbing circles on his back, allowing him to cling with a weakness he hadn't shown to anyone in his adult life.
How long did they stand there? How long did Kurt cling helplessly to Jane? Maybe it was days, even weeks, later when his punishing sobs finally stopped. When his hold on Jane loosened, she shifted, sliding around to his side. She escorted him into her bedroom. Kurt felt so hollow, so drained that he didn't bother to resist. At another time, he would have been conscious of the humiliation. At the moment, though, he didn't have the energy to worry about it.
Jane pushed him down gently to sit on the edge of the bed and quietly reassured him, "I'll be right back." Before she backed away, she pulled some tissues from the box on her bedside table and pressed them into his hand.
Grateful for the momentary solitude, Kurt mopped at his face and threw the used tissues away.
Then Jane was back. She set a glass of water on the table next to him and lifted his chin with gentle fingers. His eyes slid closed as she soothed his face with a warm, wet washcloth. As exhausted as he felt, he'd be content to sit here forever like this. Sadly, though, Jane finished her ministrations. He sighed and opened his eyes again. She smiled at him, a small, sweet lift of her lips, and smoothed a hand down his cheek before reaching for the hem of his shirt.
"Jane? What," the question died on his lips as she pulled the shirt up.
"Arms up, Weller," her tone was firm, and he meekly obeyed. She draped his shirt on the bed and grabbed his hands to pull him to his feet again.
"Jane."
Her big green eyes looked up at him, but she didn't stop her fingers from unbuckling his belt. "Trust me," a plea that he could not ignore. She helped him strip down to his boxers before she led him to the bathroom and handed him a toothbrush.
By the time he wandered back into her bedroom, she'd turned down the bed and changed into a too large t-shirt and shorts. Seeing him hovering near the doorway, she reached out a hand. A moth to a flame, Kurt crossed to her. She pulled him closer to the bed and waited while he settled down on the side closest to the door. She pulled the covers up over his large frame and leaned over to press a kiss to his temple. He let his eyes slip closed once again, but he didn't let himself slip into sleep. Not until Jane returned from her own trip to the bathroom. She smelled simply of soap, mint, and Jane as she climbed into bed next to him. He turned over and she snuggled back against him, spooning. The empty feeling was slowly being replaced by a warmth centered around Weller's heart. He gave a long, slow sigh and gave into the pull of sleep.
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I made Weller cry. I feel awful about it. Weller doesn't cry. He just doesn't. Sorry, Weller! Please don't hurt me. ;0)