Everything Is Illuminated

Zane woke into darkness.

In and of itself, that wasn't so strange. Life experience, and a lot of it, had honed Zane into the light sleeper he was today. He was accustomed to waking up in a dark bedroom when startled awake by, for instance, a far off car alarm. Or perhaps a minor explosion, which was in any case more likely in Eureka.

His present location, however, was dark in all the wrong ways. Everything felt just a little off - the bed seemed too stiff, the air smelled wrong, even the sounds around him were out of place - and he strained to remember where he had been last. He had a vague feeling - like a dream half-remembered - that he'd just been in the Sheriff's office, and there had been someone else with him - there had been something important - but the harder he tried to grasp the sensation, the further it seemed to drift away, and so instead he focused on his surroundings.

As he let his eyes adjust to the light, Zane began to recognize the relationship between the noises, which included the occasional beep, and the handful of small pinpricks of light scattered around the room. A heart monitor and other, less easily identified machines surrounded him. It could only be GD's infirmary.

Zane used his hands to push against the mattress, intending to push himself up and get a good look around, but a wave of vertigo hit him, forcing him to sink back against his pillow. He swallowed and winced; his throat was dry and raw, as if he'd shouted himself hoarse. Whatever it was he had done to land himself here, it seemed he had beaten himself up pretty good. Every muscle in his body ached. The question was, what had he done?

A rustling noise to his right snapped Zane out of his thoughts, and he snapped his head toward the sound, regretting it immediately when he became faintly nauseated. The sight that met his eyes, however, left him ignoring his nausea altogether.

Jo lay on a cot next to him, curled around the clearly defined curve of her belly, breathing in the deep and even pattern of delta sleep. The sight of her brought his previously absent memories of events rushing in - his plan to restore memories of a past that never was, her departure, and his - experiment. He frowned as he realized the day of his experiment itself was nothing but a blur. He must have knocked himself out somehow. Zane ran a hand over his face and stubble scraped his skin, startling him. Too much stubble. He had assumed that he'd knocked himself out, high as a kite, but stubble like that wouldn't develop overnight, much less a few hours' time.

If Jo was here, there were only two explanations. Either he'd been out for long enough that Jo was already back from her weekend in Boston, or she'd been dragged back early because of his actions. Either way, he had an ear blistering lecture coming to him, that much was obvious.

But the stubble... He rubbed a thoughtful hand over his face again and peered at Jo through his fingers as he pulled his hand away, squinting at her belly. She'd been showing already when she left for Boston, of course, and the maternity clothes had only accentuated that bulge, but... had it really been that size when he'd last seen her?

There was a sinking feeling in Zane's stomach, the sort of which he was accustomed to after a long life of narrow escapes and disciplinary measures, the kind of sinking feeling that could only mean a prior mistake was coming back to haunt him. He stared blankly at the ceiling as he ran the variables through his mind, lightning-fast, but the answers were always the same.

Not even the adrenaline rush of comprehension could keep his eyes open, however, and Zane had only enough time to add that to his list of variables before he sank into a deep, healthy sleep.

It wasn't until a few hours after Zane had first woken that Jo caught a movement in the corner of her eyes from where he was lying prone in the bed. She was sitting in the same chair by his bedside where she'd been for the last week, and she was drifting off, her head propped up with one hand. She looked up to see Zane watching her, one eye cracked open cautiously.

"You going to pummel me if I wake up?" he joked quietly. "Because if that's the plan, I'd be happy to go back to sleep." She gaped at him for a moment, then shook her head in resignation.

"It's exactly what you deserve," she growled, but tears of relief were pricking her eyes. He reached out and grabbed at her hand.

"Hey," he said, voice raspy. "It's okay." His eyes met hers, looking genuinely concerned, and she bit her lip trying to keep the uncharacteristic tears from welling over and spilling down her face. She pulled her hand away and stood.

"Let me go get Allison," she said hastily, backing away from him, and his eyes widened when he got a good look at her, but she was gone before he could say anything. He raised his eyebrows and half-shook his head in amazement. When she reappeared through the door with Allison he didn't miss a beat before the questions began.

"How long have I been out?" He demanded, looking significantly at the substantial swell of Jo's stomach.

"You've been in an induced coma for – oh – a little more than a week, now," Allison explained distractedly as she tilted back his head, shining a light into his eyes.

"A week," Zane repeated, stunned. "No wonder you look so – y'know – " he gestured vaguely at Jo's waistline, but the IV lines held him back. Jo arched an eyebrow.

"So what, exactly?" Jo asked, warningly.

"Ah. Beautiful," he recovered, and gave her his most winning smile. She bit her lip and looked to Allison, avoiding his eyes. Still, he thought he could see the hint of a smile.

"You managed to put yourself in a chemically induced coma," Allison said briskly, stepping back to study the monitors. "You started fighting the respirator yesterday afternoon – that's why your throat feels so raw, by the way." She shook her head. "You're lucky we found you in time to get you on the respirator in the first place, and doubly lucky to have woken up at all." She glanced down at her notes then looked back at Zane. "You should make a full recovery," she said, her voice softening as she looked at the pair. "But you're staying here until I say otherwise – you're going to be groggy, your body has been getting all its nutrition from an IV, and while you weren't out long enough to cause any muscle damage, you should be under supervision when you start walking again. In other words," she fixed her gaze on Jo, "don't let him out of that bed without informing me first." She gave Jo a wry smile before striding away. Zane pouted from his hospital bed.

"Feel fine," he mumbled. Jo gave him a soft, affectionate smile and ran her hand through his hair, startling him.

"Sure you do," she teased, and watched as his eyes fluttered shut again. He blinked them back opening, struggling against the tide of exhaustion that had clearly swept over him.

"Jo – " he half-slurred, and Jo would have wondered if Allison had slipped something into his IV, had she not known how careful Allison was being about introducing more drugs into his system. She ran her fingers along his scalp, massaging gently, thinking absently about her own medical experiences. Zane made a small noise of contentment, something between a moan and a sigh.

"Shh," she said quietly. "Go to sleep. It can wait." In moments his breathing had slowed into a deep, even rhythm. Jo slid into her chair by the bed, her left hand still tangled in his hair, and tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

It wasn't long before she followed him into sleep.

Three days passed in much the same way. Allison was deadly serious about the concepts of "rest" and "taking it easy," and Jo, for reasons which were not immediately clear to Zane, had taken up Allison's cause with a zealotry that was, frankly, alarming. It was somewhere around the fifth pillow rearrangement over the course of an hour that Zane broke.

"Okay, okay," he grabbed her arm as she shoved at another pillow. "Hey. Jo-Jo. What's going on with you?" Jo let go of the pillow in favor of staring at him. A moment of silence passed.

"What's going on with me?" She asked, finally, and Zane winced at her incredulous tone. "What's going on with me?" This time she nearly hissed the words. Zane was about to backtrack when she squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. He could almost see the nervous, angry energy slip out of her. When she opened them again it was with an air of calm resignation.

Jo tugged her chair close to his bed, leaving about a foot of space between them, and took his hand. For a moment, she just studied it, tracing the lines of his palm. Zane couldn't help but wonder if it bore a similarity to the other Zane's hand. Did they share scars, or was this just one more way she could map the difference between them? The thought made him feel a little hollow, and he suddenly regretted having said anything at all.

"Why did you do it?" She asked quietly. It didn't quite catch him off guard, not exactly, but it wasn't exactly a welcome question, either. His hand stiffened under hers, though he made no attempt to pull away.

"I left you a letter," he said shortly. Jo held his eyes with her own.

"I read it." She said, without elaborating.

"Then you know why," he replied, furrowing his brow. This time, he did try to pull away, but Jo held tight.

"But I don't understand," she said, searching his eyes. He dodged her gaze, lowering his eyes to the sheets. He muttered something which Jo couldn't make out, despite leaning in to hear him.

"What?" She said. Zane looked back up at her.

"I said, the Zane you left behind - he's the one you love. Not me. I'm just the placeholder." He kept his tone clinical, detached even, but Jo caught the shadow of pain behind his eyes.

"Zane," she breathed, horrified. For a moment, there was total silence as Jo struggled to find the words.

"It's not that simple," she said finally, locking his eyes with hers. "You're not just a - God, you're not just a placeholder!" Zane looked away.

"If you're not going to admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself, Jo," Zane said stubbornly. He tugged his hand away from hers harder this time, annoyed. Jo let him go, her own hand falling to her lap.

"Zane," she started, and then stopped. Is that really what you think of me? She wanted to ask, but something held her back. She hadn't given him much reason to think otherwise, had she? She never talked about her life with the original timeline Zane, never talked about the future... never told him what he meant to her. She took a deep breath, biting her lip, and looked back at him, her heart racing in spite of herself.

"Zane," she said again, her voice steady this time. "Zane, look at me," she demanded. He did, warily. She leaned in, her eyes piercing.

"I love you," she said. "And I loved him." She rushed ahead, feeling exposed by the naked honesty in her words. "Look, I've had plenty of time to think since - since you - " Jo swallowed hard. "I've had a lot of time to think," she reiterated. "And it doesn't matter. From where I'm standing, it doesn't matter." She shook her head. Zane watched her closely, uncertain: she could see it in his eyes, and she found that, paradoxically, it made her all the more certain.

"I can't imagine there's any universe where I don't love you, Zane." She said softly. Zane closed his eyes reflexively as her words sank in. He could feel the tightness in his chest ease, just a little bit. Opening his eyes, he watched Jo as she continued. "I should have told you that sooner," she said softly. "You've been incredible for the last few months. Well above and beyond the call of duty. You don't owe me anything. You could have walked away. You certainly didn't need to commit yourself to m- us," she looked suddenly a little pink. Zane stared at her for a moment, before reaching over to take her hand again, his stiff muscles protesting at the movement.

"It didn't feel like a commitment," he said slowly. This time Jo was the one to stiffen and pull her hand back, stung. Zane sighed. "That's not what I meant, Jo." He told her tiredly.

"Then what did you mean?" She asked hollowly, curling her hand protectively over the bulge of her abdomen, as if she were shielding the life inside from his words.

"It felt... right. It didn't feel like I was taking on an unwanted responsibility. Granted, I wasn't crazy about some of the repercussions, but being with you? Protecting the baby? It felt like the most natural thing in the world, Jo." He looked up at Jo, sincerity written on his face.

"Not just the baby, Zane," she reminded him softly. "Our baby." She didn't move, but her dark eyes shone back at him. Zane's lips quirked into a smile.

"Our baby," he agreed.

On the fourth day, Allison officially cleared Zane for visitors.

It started slow: a gradual trickle. Zane wasn't surprised when Carter made an appearance; the man spent nearly as much time in the infirmary as he did in his office after all. Maybe more. He'd seen Carter almost as many times this week as he'd seen Jo, and Jo slept in the cot next to him. And if on this particular day Carter ended up spending more time bugging Zane than his girlfriend, well, Allison was busy, after all.

Henry and Grace were the next to appear. Zane's heart sank when he saw Grace, but she was her usual, sunny self. One of his greatest regrets about his train wreck of a master plan was the way he'd risked Grace's project. But Grace didn't say a word - merely gave his ankle a reassuring squeeze while no one was looking. Zane gave her a hesitant smile in answer to the quiet benediction.

When Fargo appeared, helping Vincent with what was practically a buffet table worth of food, coincidentally consisting entirely of the non-solids to which Zane was still limited, Zane went from vaguely uncomfortable to outright suspicious. If this was some kind of intervention, he'd...well, there wasn't much he could do, trapped in Eureka as he was (now trapped in a hospital bed, no less), but he'd come up with something. And it wouldn't be pretty.

But Vincent merely appropriated a rolling medical tray or four, arranging them strategically around Zane's hospital bed, all the while expressing his relief at seeing Zane back with the living. Fargo took a seat by Jo, trying, and failing, to look comfortable in his surroundings. He gave Zane an awkward smile.

"Glad you're alive," Fargo blurted out suddenly, his words running together. Zane blinked and shot a quick look across the room to Jo, scrabbling for purchase on suddenly treacherous grounds. When he turned back to look at Fargo, however, his expression was carefully nonchalant.

"I'm not disappointed, myself," he said breezily, but something of his thoughts must have bled through into his voice, because he caught Jo giving him a sharp look from her end of the infirmary. Zane returned her gaze with a weak smile, and whatever it was she saw in his face, it was enough to reassure her. She turned back to her conversation with Grace, leaving Zane floundering. Fargo gave him what was probably intended as a friendly smile, but came out as more of a grimace, before his eyes wandered to the medical trays covered with food.

"Ooh! Banana pudding! And whipped cream!" Fargo scooped himself a bowl and ambled off, leaving Zane to his thoughts.

His first response when Fargo had appeared had been to tense up, prepared for a Director Fargo who was all but frothing at the mouth at Zane's latest indiscretion - the same Fargo he'd been handling for years now. Instead, he'd been faced with this quiet, awkward Fargo who quietly radiated concern for a colleague, if not a friend.

Concern for Zane.

These people weren't here to punish him, and they weren't just there to support Jo. They were there for him. For someone who'd spent the past two years of his life as something of a social pariah, that was - well, it was staggering.

Zane was grateful, then, for the distraction when Zoe appeared in the infirmary door, though he couldn't help flinching with apprehension. The last time he'd seen her, at Thanksgiving, she hadn't exactly been warm with him. Even so, her face lit up with relief when she caught sight of him from the infirmary door.

"Zane!" She was trailed across the room by a guy Zane thought looked vaguely familiar. Zane immediately identified the man as military and tensed, thinking of General Mansfield, but the expression on the other man's face was disarmingly discomfited instead of the typical military blank.

"I'm so glad you're awake!" Zoe exclaimed.

"Yeah, so am I." Zane replied absently, his body tense and his eyes still fixed on her tag-along. There was an awkward silence, during which Zoe glanced between the two men before venturing, warily, to speak. She picked her words carefully.

"You probably already know this - " You are probably even responsible for this was heavily implied, " - but this is Jo's brother, Daniel." Zane was better than good at controlling his body language, but even he couldn't quite restrain the twitch of his body in response to the introduction. Zoe, demonstrating once more her possession of people-reading skills equal to those of her father, caught the hint of a flinch and promptly decided to excuse herself from the proceedings. Carter: 1, Donovan: 0, Zane reflected, resigned to his fate. Zane and Daniel eyed each other.

Daniel shifted on his feet before settling into Fargo's recently vacated chair.

"So," he said coolly.

"So," Zane echoed, buying time. When Zane had initially begun to plan for his ill-conceived attempt to manipulate the Akashic Field, he had accounted for three eventualities: the effective return of Jo's original timeline version of himself; his own death; and an anticlimactic, abject failure. He had neglected to consider the possibility that his failure would only nearly cost him his life, setting all his plans into motion and out of control.

Therefore, in spite of his attempts to account for all possibilities, Zane found himself lying pale and shaky in a hospital bed with Jo's well-built, younger - but not smaller - brother looming over him menacingly. He'd sort of assumed that the original timeline Zane - the seemingly more tactful Zane who was, theoretically at least, more knowledgeable about Jo's family life - would be dealing with this.

If he'd taken the moment to consider the possibilities, he would've hoped that the original timeline Zane would be dealing with this - and with good reason, as he himself was entirely at a loss for words.

"You're the man who knocked up my big sister," Daniel said, his voice neutral.

"That would be true," Zane said, watching the brawny younger man carefully. Daniel quirked an eyebrow, in a gesture eerily similar to his sister.

"And neglected to mention this to her family." He stated flatly. This time, Zane was the one to raise an eyebrow.

"You'll have to take that up with your sister." He said, his face guarded.

"Heard you haven't said a word to your own mother, either."

Zane wondered idly where he was getting his information.

"My mother is many things, but a font of parental wisdom she is not," Zane said wryly. "I'll tell her sooner or later."

"Jo seems happy." Daniel said. Zane blinked at the unexpected turn to the conversation, and scrambled for words.

"I - ah..." He glanced across the room, where Jo was talking to Allison. He caught her eye, and her face lit up in a brilliant smile that pulled Zane's heart straight into his throat. "I guess she is," he said, a hint of wonder in his voice. He turned back to Daniel, who was observing him with a carefully neutral expression.

"Good," Daniel said. There was a pause. Daniel leaned forward, propping his elbow on the arm of his chair. "So. Zoe tells me you've designed a flying motorcycle?" He asked, not bothering to hide his interest. Zane grinned.

"Well, actually, it's called a SkyCruiser…"

Across the room, Jo's efforts to focus on her conversation with Zoe were falling short. The younger woman was animated, recounting a fellow student's misadventures during one of her laboratory courses ("And for a moment there, I was so glad I wasn't still in Eureka, because you just know that beaker would have blown up if we were!"), but easily more than half of Jo's attention remained on Zane. Ever since he'd woken up, she'd been hyper-attuned to his presence, as if every atom in her body was fixed in his direction. It wasn't doing wonders for her concentration, or her conversational skills.

Nor, it seemed , had it escaped Zoe's attention, as the gesturing and indeed the talking had stopped. She was giving Jo an amused look, and Jo turned faintly pink with embarrassment. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Sorry, Zoe, you were saying?" Zoe rolled her eyes.

"Go," she said, jerking her chin in Zane's direction.

"No, Zoe, really, I –" Jo demurred. Zoe put her hands on her hips.

"Go," she ordered. Jo bit her lip and cast Zoe a sideways glance.

"I'm really sorry – "

"Seriously, Jo, stop. You're pregnant, and he nearly died. I think you're entitled to be a little distracted." Jo opened her mouth again to argue, stopped, and shut it before giving Zoe an embarrassed smile.

"Thanks," she said, and cast Zoe one last sheepish look before making her way across the room. Zane and Daniel were deep into a discussion about the Tesla High student (Zoe's friend Pilar, if Jo wasn't mistaken) who'd made an honest-to-God invisibility cloak for her senior project this year. Both of them looked up as she approached, and Daniel surged out of the seat he'd taken by Zane's bed in order to offer it to her. Jo narrowed her eyes at his attempt to be chivalrous – she was pregnant, not dying – but took the seat offered to her because, well, she was pregnant, and if she was honest with herself, her feet were really starting to ache.

"Hey," she said, her eyes raking over his form.

"Hey yourself," Zane replied. He looked pale and drawn, more so than he had in the hours previous. Jo frowned.

"Are you sure you're up to this right now? Maybe it's time people headed home." As she spoke, Daniel made a quick and silent strategic retreat to the other side of the infirmary, where Allison, Carter, Henry and Grace had gathered.

"I'm fine," he defended. "Just a little tired." Jo took the opportunity to study him. His hair was ruffled, and paired with the sleepiness in his eyes made him look young and a touch vulnerable. For a moment, Jo could see him as the brilliant, defiant eight year old he'd once been. Then he flashed her a wicked smile, and the moment passed.

"You can always climb up here and give me a reason to stay awake," he suggested. Jo eyed him, recognizing his words for the deflection they represented. Rather than squirm under the scrutiny, he gave her a defiant look. Jo crossed her arms over her chest. Well, two can play at this game. She smirked at him, her eyes glinting with smug satisfaction, before she turned to call over Allison, eliciting a brief flash of alarm in his eyes. Allison approached them, looking suspicious.

"Is everything okay?" She questioned, eyeballing the two of them. Jo flashed her a bright smile. Zane narrowed his eyes.

"Everything is great, actually, Allison, but to be honest I'm completely exhausted. Sleeping for two, and all. Do you think you could get them to wrap things up?" She asked, all sweetness and light. For a second Allison just stared at her, unnerved by the sudden one hundred and eighty-degree turn in the behavior of her worst patient. Then she glanced at Zane, and back at Jo, eyes suddenly lit with comprehension. She smiled, and this time it was Zane's turn to be suspicious.

"Of course, Jo, it would be my pleasure." With one last amused look at Zane, she turned on her heel and left him to wonder what the hell had just happened.

After Jo spoke with Allison, effectively outmaneuvering Zane's half-hearted attempts to keep the party going and retain his pride, things began to move quickly. In almost less than a half hour, the food had been cleaned up and the small party worth of people had filed out of the infirmary. In short order Jo, and to a lesser degree Zane, were settling in for another long night of blinking lights and unexpected beeps. Jo moved an errant chair out of the way and began pushing her cot toward Zane's. Zane looked on, brow furrowed, radiating hesitant concern.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" He asked, watching the way the movement tightened her shirt over her extended abdomen as she strained her arms and pushed.

She threw him an annoyed look.

"I'm fine, Zane. I only told them I was tired because you were too stubborn to admit you needed some rest!" Pot, meet kettle, he sighed to himself as her dark eyes flashed at him from over the sheets.

"That's not really what I meant," was all he said. "Are you sure you should be moving that by yourself?" Jo rolled her eyes.

"I'm pregnant, not broken," she dismissed, giving the bed one final shove. She straightened up and stretched, rubbing out the kinks in her shoulders. Zane watched with interest as she perched on the edge of her bed and brushed out her long, silky hair before pulling it to one side and twining it into a simple braid. Jo looked up and caught him watching her.

"What?" She asked him, caught off guard. Zane shook his head.

"Nothing." He defended, but continued to study her. After a moment Jo began to shift uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"Zane - " she began again, but he cut her off.

"Let's move in together," he said, suddenly. Jo stared at him, wide-eyed, until he took her silence as rejection and looked away. Then she found her voice.

"Your place or mine?" Zane whipped his head around to look at her. It was his turn to be speechless. She looked stiff: tense, but resolute. It took him a moment to guess why, and he grinned.

"Don't you worry, Josefina, I wouldn't dream of dragging you away from your precious dojo." She rolled her eyes at him, but from the way her shoulders relaxed, he could see it had been exactly the right thing to say. "I doubt we could fit a baby in my apartment anyway." He pointed out, more serious now. Jo looked vaguely disturbed.

"I hadn't even thought about that," she admitted. Zane gave her a smug look, the effect of which was somewhat ruined by a series of huge yawns.

"That's what I'm here for," he managed, between yawns. When he turned back to look at Jo again, she was already in the cot next to his, sheets pulled up around her. She gave him a soft, fond smile.

"I know," she said, and turned off the light.

Disclaimer: I don't own Eureka. I don't own Harry Potter, either, and have no real reason why it showed up in this chapter's technological advancements, but it did.

A/N: I hope this suits you all, because I don't have anything I like better... At least I feel confident you'll be glad to see Zane awake again.:) I should admit I blurred the timeline a little bit to suit me this time, and also the details of Zane's coma are really only tenuously based on medical reality. But then that was always true (LSD overdoses are actually hugely rare because the lethal dose is so much higher than the effective dose... but I digress.). Happy season premiere day!

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