Disclaimer: I do not own Jane or Kurt or Blindspot. Writing about them is simply the outlet for my obsession.

A/N: As always, thanks to all of my readers for your support, and to Tealo for pointing out a small inconsistency in chapter 11 about Kurt calling Jane 'Taylor' in the finale. I've tweaked that section of chapter 11, because I always try to have the details right.

ZAPATA, READE AND PATTERSON

The monitoring room beside the interrogation room was dead silent, as it had been for what felt like the eternity that it had taken Jane and Kurt's emotional scene to unfold before their eyes. The only exception to that silence had been the periodic gasps or, even more often, quiet sniffles from Patterson, and occasionally Zapata. The three of them sat openmouthed, shocked at what they had just witnessed – especially the explosive ending.

As soon as Kurt's chair scraped the floor of the adjoining room, Zapata was out of her own chair, almost knocking it over in her haste to make it to the door. What was he doing? Where the hell was he going? She had to get to him before he disappeared to go off and brood somewhere that she couldn't find him. By now she knew Weller well enough to know that that was probably what he would do in this situation. It was understandable that he needed to take a step back after everything he'd just been told, but Zapata was afraid he wouldn't come back on his own. He had a tendency to retreat, physically and mentally, from situations like this. Not that any other situation could be described as being like this…

So while Zapata felt terrible for Jane, who was sobbing in the next room, she believed that the best thing she could do for her was to deal with Weller.

Patterson sat and stared at the monitor, tears running down her face. She'd cried nearly all the way through Jane's confession, and had long since given up on trying to hide it. Reade looked at her with concern, not sure what he could possibly do for any of them that would be helpful just then. To say that this was a mess would be the understatement of the year.

KURT AND ZAPATA

Zapata's reaction time had been so fast, and Kurt was moving so slowly, that she was actually in the hall a few seconds before him. She stood facing the door of the interrogation room with her arms folded, and when he emerged, looking like a man who had taken exactly the emotional beating that he had, she raised her eyebrows at him in a silent question. He stepped forward towards her, but she said nothing until the door clicked shut behind him. Then she held up her hands in front of him, not threateningly, but in a gesture that told him to stop where he was. He did so without a word, not having any energy left to argue with her.

"Where're you going, Weller?" she asked warily. He was emotionally unstable at best at the moment, and with good reason. There was no way she was letting him just take off on his own. Besides, from what they'd heard, there was a lot more left for him to hear.

"I just need…" He wasn't looking at her, and he seemed disoriented. His eyes were darting around the hallway, not seeming to stop on any one point. It was as though his brain was frozen. What do I need? he asked himself. I need… I need… Nothing came to mind. He simply couldn't form a thought. The only thing he'd known was that he couldn't be in that room staring at Jane anymore. Not right now… Not after everything she had told him.

Zapata watched him carefully for a few seconds, growing more and more concerned. To say that this behavior was unlike him was to make a molehill out of a mountain. "Hey, Weller… Are you okay?" she asked him, though she was fairly sure that he was anything but okay. She was worried now. He seemed even more lost than he had when he'd come in the previous week, more than a little hung over after trying to drink Jane out of his system.

The fog surrounding Kurt's brain lifted just slightly, to the point that he heard Zapata's question. Despite having spoken to her already, he had only just registered that she was standing in front of him. "I…" Kurt finally looked at her, and it was as if he was surprised to see her there. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do with everything that had just happened. He had never been in that situation before, of course. To make matters worse, there was no Mayfair around to ask what he should do next. So, because she was standing there with him, he asked Zapata instead. "What do I do now, Zapata?"

He looked at her pleadingly, his eyes begging her for the answers that she didn't have. What should he do now? That was indeed the question. What could any of them do? Big bad Agent Kurt Weller looked like a lost puppy that had been kicked, and even though she had a feeling that the situation was still salvageable, she couldn't help but feel for both him and for Jane. They'd both already been through so much, both together and separately, and now they'd be going through a lot more.

It was just then that she had an idea of what he – they, really – should do next, and she was pretty sure that it would either be a spectacular failure or a grand success. She'd always liked to take chances, so she decided to go for it and hoped that it would pay off.

"You're going to come with me," she told him soothingly. "Just one second." Taking out her phone, she typed a message to Patterson. It read, I've got Weller. He's not pissed at her, he's overwhelmed. Too much info at once. Gonna get him some air, and we'll be back. I think Jane will calm down if she knows that. Can you sit with her?

A few seconds later, a message from Patterson appeared on her screen. Absolutely. Good luck.

Smiling, she replied, You too.

With that out of the way, Zapata locked her screen and dropped her phone back into her pocket, linking her arm through Kurt's. It wasn't a usual gesture between the two of them, both of them preferring to keep their personal space undisturbed, but she just had the feeling that he needed a little extra support. Everything they'd just heard… it was overwhelming for all of them, and it would be a thousand times harder for Kurt than anyone else.

Weller was one of the most honest, decent guys she knew, and she loved him like a brother. What Jane had just dumped at his feet would take a long time to sort through, and there would no doubt be a lot more to come. But their little group was a family, a little dysfunctional though it may be, and they would figure it out. They'd always had each other's backs, and that wasn't about to change.

"C'mon Weller, let's go get some air," she told him, steering him towards the elevator that would take them to the parking garage. He just nodded and followed her lead. He felt numb to everything and everyone around him, and he was suddenly very glad that Zapata was there. If there was one thing he knew about her, it was that she could be trusted with his life.

JANE AND PATTERSON

Zapata and Kurt had just walked slowly down the hall when Patterson and Reade emerged from the monitoring room. Patterson had read Zapata's text to him, so he was up to speed.

"I think you're better off on your own on this one," he told her as she stepped towards the interrogation room door. "You need anything?"

"Would you get Jane some water, please? I think it might help, if I can get her to calm down enough to drink it," Patterson replied.

Reade nodded in agreement. "I'm on it. Be right back."

Turning towards the door of the interrogation room, Patterson peered through the window and looked at a despondent Jane, still sitting at the table with her head down. Her sobs seemed to have lost some of their intensity, but as she opened the door she could hear that the crying hadn't stopped. She saw her friend stiffen at the sound of the door opening, but she didn't lift her head. Patterson walked slowly to the table and carried the other chair around to Jane's side so that she could sit beside her.

"Jane," she said in her calmest voice. She laid her left hand on Jane's back and rubbed back and forth gently, in what she hoped was a calming motion. "Hey… It's okay."

Jane sniffled a few times, relaxing slightly as she realized that it was Patterson who was beside her. She sat up slowly, reluctantly looking Patterson in the face. Hoping that she didn't look at utterly terrible as she felt, she ran her hands across her face, attempting to push away the accumulated wetness of what had felt like millions of tears. Despite the fact that she knew that Patterson would never judge her for being an emotional wreck, she wasn't sure that she wouldn't judge her for the horrible things that she'd done, and to which everyone had surely just heard her confess.

"So you guys… heard…?" Jane stopped mid-sentence. The question hung in the air half-finished, but its meaning was clear.

"Yeah, we were in the other room. We heard everything," Patterson confirmed sheepishly, nodding and giving her a sad smile.

Jane looked up at the ceiling, unable to look her friend in the eye, and braced herself for the judgement that she was sure was coming. After all, she thought, the things she had done… and to the people who had been so good to her… she could feel herself about to lose control again. How could they not judge her?

But the words Patterson said next were not the ones that Jane had expected to hear. "I'm so sorry, Jane. I hate that you had to go through all that alone."

Jane pulled her eyes away from the ceiling, looking back at Patterson in surprise, seeing her smiling at her sadly. She tried to smile back, but her face suddenly broke and more tears flowed from her eyes, despite her best efforts to keep them at bay. Patterson was… sorry that she'd gone through it alone? She wasn't disgusted by her? Didn't hate her? Didn't want to run away screaming from the complete mess that her life would undoubtedly become if she stuck around her? Jane was taken aback. She simply didn't understand how she could be forgiven. Kurt, obviously, hadn't forgiven her…

I don't deserve friends like this. Friends like Patterson and Zapata, Jane thought as she began shaking again from the intensity of her tears. It killed her that Patterson was being so kind to her, when all Jane felt was guilt and shame over the things she had done, and over what had happened to the people around her. The word alone echoed through Jane's head long after Patterson had uttered it, and she covered her face with both hands, leaning forward until her forehead was almost touching the table. The feeling of wanting to disappear into nothingness had become very familiar by now, and at that moment it threatened to engulf her once again.

"Hey, come on…" Patterson said soothingly, continuing to rub Jane's back. "I promise, it's okay." And then, because just like Zapata, she suspected what was really bothering her friend, she added, "Jane… Listen to me. Weller's with Zapata. She told me that he's not angry. He's just… overwhelmed by it all. They're getting some air, and then she's bringing him back. Okay?"

She felt Jane relax slightly, and the shaking that had been running through her body slowly came to a stop. It took a few minutes, but Jane managed to regain a semblance of control over her emotions. Finally, she looked back up, looking at Patterson questioningly. How could she be sure that he'd really come back? After everything that had happened, Jane was afraid to hope that it was true, and yet, she couldn't help but cling to that hope for dear life. He's just overwhelmed… She's bringing him back, she kept repeating in her head.

"He's coming back Jane, I promise," Patterson repeated, seeing the doubt in Jane's eyes. "It's going to be okay."

She felt the numbness in her body begin to subside ever so slowly as she allowed herself to hope. "Thank you," Jane whispered. Her voice was so soft, Patterson almost didn't hear it at all.

Patterson smiled sadly at Jane again, wishing there was something more she could do for her. "Do you want to… talk about any of it?" she asked hesitantly. The past few hours – hell, the past ten days – had been hell for Jane, and it really wouldn't have surprised her if talking about it was the last thing she'd wanted to do. Still, if she wanted to talk, then Patterson wanted to be there to listen. That's just what friends did, after all.

At that moment, the lock on the door clicked loudly and Reade entered, an apologetic look on his face, carrying two bottles of water to the table. Apparently he knows that I'll probably need that just as much as Jane, Patterson thought in amusement. And he's probably right. For a second, she wished he'd brought them something harder to drink, but they couldn't exactly serve alcohol inside FBI headquarters. That would have to wait for another day, and another place.

"Sorry to interrupt," he told them. "You need anything else? Jane? Patterson?" He looked from one of them to the other.

Jane shook her head, trying to smile at Reade gratefully but knowing that it probably looked more like a grimace. "No, but thanks, Reade," Patterson replied, smiling warmly at him.

"Alright," Reade said, already stepping back toward the door. He could feel the high levels of emotion in the room, which was not his thing, but Patterson seemed to have things under control. At least for the moment, Jane wasn't crying. "You know where to find me." Both women nodded, and he took that as his cue, escaping back out the door and back down the hall.

Jane ignored the bottle of water for the time being, and stared off into space for several minutes. Finally, a pained expression crossed her face and she shook her head sadly, looking up at the ceiling. She appeared to be lost in thought, but she started talking. "I just… I just wanted to do the right thing. But I couldn't figure out what the right thing was. After Marcos got shot right in front of me and I didn't know who he was telling me not to trust… I was so scared. And you guys were so good to me, but I didn't know… and Kurt…" Tears were falling again, and suddenly she could no longer finish her sentences. The little bit of control over her emotions that she had had was gone once again.

It's too much. Just make it stop, Jane begged silently to no one in particular. Please just make it stop.

"Jane… no…" Patterson was crying again too, unable to help herself in the face of her friend's emotional distress, and she pulled Jane into a tight hug. She wasn't doing any better at maintaining control over herself than Jane was, so she hoped that her mere presence could be of some help. At least Jane would know that she wasn't alone, for whatever that was worth.

This thought, along with Jane's continued tears, meant that it took both women some time to calm down. When they finally did, slowly releasing each other from their prolonged hug, Patterson set Jane's water bottle in front of her, and opened the other one for herself. It was still relatively cold, and it tasted even better than she'd expected. Slowly, Jane opened hers as well, taking a small sip before putting the top back on and replacing it in front of her. Sighing heavily, she shook her head.

"What do I do now?" she asked in a small voice, staring at the wall ahead of them.

Patterson thought for a minute, unsure exactly what her friend was asking her. Was she asking her what she should do now, this instant? Those options were pretty limited, after all. Was she asking her what she should do with her life in general? Was she asking what she should do once the FBI let her go – assuming they did let her go? It was hard to know how to answer her.

"I know you, Jane," Patterson replied slowly.

Before Patterson could go on, Jane scoffed bitterly. "Well, that makes one of us."

Patterson shook her head sadly, knowing that the bitterness in Jane's voice was not directed at her, and continued. "And I know that above everything else, you always do what you think is right." Jane shook her head at her, looking dangerously close to tears again, but Patterson ignored her and continued. "Sometimes it's hard to know what's right. That's not just you. That happens to all of us, no matter how many years' worth of memories we have."

She looked over at Jane, whose lips were pursed as if she was trying once more to keep her tears at bay. "That's what everyone struggles with – doing what's right. Because after all, who decides what's right? We all have to figure that out as we go along. From what it sounds like to me, maybe this is crazy, but… maybe when Oscar wiped your memory, he did you a favor." She hoped that comment didn't hit a nerve, but she had a point, so she pushed on so that she could get there.

"I don't know the person you were. I don't know what her plan was or whether it was right or wrong, and I don't know if we all would have been better off if it had gone that way you – that she – wanted it to. What I do know is that whatever the old you believed about right and wrong, you – Jane – would do anything to help someone else. You constantly put yourself at risk to help people. To save people. You're fiercely loyal. And yes, you've been forced to make impossible choices. And no, you're not perfect. No one is perfect. That's something that people learn growing up, so you probably don't remember it. Whatever you think about yourself, you're one of the good guys."

She hadn't meant to make Jane cry again, but these were different tears, rolling down her face silently, despite the hint of a smile on her lips.

"And if he doesn't see that, then, well… I'm going to make him," Patterson added seriously, before breaking into a grin. It was mostly a joke, but if she had to, she was going to have another of those "talks" with Weller that involved her aggressively raised voice, which he seemed to now dread. Most of the time he knew not to mess with her.

Jane laughed, shaking her head at Patterson. "I don't deserve a friend like you," she said quietly.

Patterson's eyes grew wide. "Hey! We've been over this. Deserved or not, you have me." Jane chuckled and shook her head. "But you do, for the record, deserve us, the friends you have. And you're not going to convince me otherwise." She looked at Jane defiantly, letting her know that the subject was closed.

"Okay," Jane replied simply, letting a small smile settle on her face for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

"Anything else we need to clear up?" Patterson asked, taking another drink of water. She was actually pretty proud of her little motivational speech, and it seemed to have helped. Then Jane shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her face clouding over. "I know there's a lot you haven't told us yet, even from just the hints you already gave," she told Jane. "You don't have to tell me anything else now. You don't wanna talk about any of it, we can talk about something else. Anything."

One thing was foremost on Jane's mind all of a sudden, now that she'd gotten past the initial phase of her confession. Looking down at the table in front of them, she whispered, "Kurt's going to hate me."

"No, he's not," Patterson replied immediately. "There's a lot to work through… but he's not going to hate you. What makes you say that?"

Once again, Jane's face was pained. "Well, there's the four people's deaths that I'm responsible for…"

"Jane, I'm sure that's not true—" Patterson started. She hadn't heard about them yet, other than the names that Jane had rattled off to Weller. Marcos and Oscar were the names from Jane's past that their team didn't know. Marcos had been killed by a sniper. Jane had said that she'd killed Oscar herself. Knowing Jane, Patterson was sure that it would have been either an accident, or self-defense.

As for the other two… Carter and Mayfair. That would be more problematic, of course. Once again, Patterson simply knew in her gut that there was more she needed to know about those two situations, and she would not convict her friend without knowing what had happened, despite Jane's claims that their deaths were her fault. She simply refused to believe it. That just wasn't Jane.

"And if killing four people, and telling who knows how many lies of every shape and sizeis not enough… well…" She hesitated, not wanting to have to admit it to any of them, but knowing that she would have to, so she might as well tell Patterson now… "It's almost nothing in comparison to the rest, but..." Somehow, she felt worse about what she was about to say than almost anything else that she had to confess. That's stupid, she told herself, logically, that's one of the most inconsequential things you did. But try as she might, she could not convince herself that sleeping with Oscar wasn't a betrayal of Kurt, despite the fact that they'd never shared more than a kiss. They'd shared something far more important, as far as she was concerned – a connection that could not be described in words.

Looking into Patterson's eyes, she forced the words out. "I slept with Oscar. Me, Jane. Not just the me from before…" She looked down at the table once again in shame. "Kurt reached out to me, he tried, and I pushed him away. To save his life, yes, but… No, it's no excuse. I should have told him everything. We could have done something about it, the team." She paused, but Patterson could tell that she wasn't finished. "And I know he went back to Allie… because of me…" Letting out a strangled sob, she added, "I guess that seeing them was just another part of my punishment…"

"Jane," Patterson interjected, but once again, Jane cut her off. Her voice was suddenly far more forceful than it had been to that point.

"No, at some point, no matter how good my intentions, it stops being enough to make up for the things I've done. Good intentions are not enough." Jane bit her lip, hard, trying to keep her emotions in check.

Patterson sighed, hating to admit that Jane might have a point, and that another pep talk just then would fall on deaf ears. How would all this work out? Despite the terrible mess that Jane had been forced into against her will, would she end up being prosecuted for them anyway? She might be right about good intentions not being enough… Patterson's earlier confidence began to seep out of her.

"Maybe not," she conceded quietly, putting her hand on Jane's shoulder. "But you're not alone anymore, Jane. That has to count for something. As for the rest… I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Jane's suddenly somber mood had now been transferred to Patterson as well, and the air in the room was heavy with unspoken worries about the future.

"Yeah," Jane whispered. After that, they sat side by side in silence.