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

KURT AND ZAPATA

They drove through the streets of Manhattan in silence. The last of the sun's rays were just disappearing and darkness was falling quickly. Every few minutes, Zapata glanced at her boss in the seat beside her, but each time, he was still sitting exactly as he had been before – staring out the window, his eyes unfocused, not actually aware of where they were or where they were headed. He was slightly preoccupied, after all.

Zapata let him stay lost in his thoughts for the time being. If ever anyone had deserved to be left alone to think, it was Weller just then. However, traffic was light and before too long they had reached their destination. Zapata parked the car along the curb and climbed out, walking around the car to find that Kurt hadn't moved. He still had the same faraway look in his eyes, so chances were that he hadn't even noticed that they had stopped. I've got my work cut out for me this time, she thought as she reached for the door handle.

"Weller," she said, pulling the door open, then attempting to bring him back to the present from wherever he'd gone. "You with me?"

Kurt blinked and turned to look at her, realizing for the first time that the car was no longer moving. "Yeah," he replied distractedly. He was busy looking around. Though his mind was foggy, he recognized this place.

Why did she pick this spot? he wondered. How did she know…? The view from this particular spot during the day was gorgeous, and somehow at night, even though he couldn't see The Statue of Liberty on her tiny island, where it was far enough away from the shore to look small but close enough to be reached by ferry, this overlook was breathtaking in a completely different way. He glanced at the sky, but there was no moon tonight. Not like there had been that night.

Zapata watched Weller and held her breath as he emerged from the car at what normally would have been an agonizingly slow pace. At that moment, however, she was in no rush. Actually, she took his snail-like pace as a good sign, because their location was obviously having the desired effect on him. She mentally congratulated herself for remembering back to one of the stories Jane had told her a long time ago about how Weller had brought her here the first night after they'd met. Her safe house hadn't been ready, and being inside the FBI building had had her crawling up the walls, so he'd taken her to the most peaceful place he could think of – one of the few places that he could go to when he wanted to think.

He looked at Zapata in disbelief as she reached around him to close the passenger door to the car and clicked on the keyfab in her hand, eliciting a sharp chirp in response as the car doors locked. "How did you know about this place…. And Jane?" he asked in a whisper. He was trying to ask her how she'd known that he'd brought Jane there that night, but his mind couldn't quite form the question properly. But she understood.

The smile on her face held more than a little bit of pride. "What, you mean besides the fact that I work for the FBI?" she asked him teasingly. She could see that her humor was lost on him, however, as he just continued to stare out towards the water. Undeterred in her amusement, she just shook her head, content to enjoy her joke by herself, adding simply, "Jane described it to me a long time ago. And from what I know about you… it was just another puzzle to solve. I think Patterson would be proud of me, don't you?" Kurt just nodded absently, not looking at her.

"Come on, let's walk," she said, linking her arm in hers once more. He glanced down at her as if he was surprised to find her by his side again – he was clearly more distracted than she'd anticipated, since he didn't seem to have noticed that she'd moved from where she'd stood in front of him a few seconds before.

Following the sidewalk around the small park maintenance building, they followed the same wide concrete path on which he had led Jane to the water's edge on that night so very long ago. When they reached the railing, Zapata dropped his arm, and Kurt leaned against the metal bar, looking out into the darkness. Faint lights from the buildings that were farther along the shore, where the land seemed to jut slightly out into the water, glittered in the distance. It was as if he was living that night again, except that so much was different now. It wasn't just that he was here with Zapata instead of Jane. It was… everything. What scared him was that he wasn't sure he'd be able to get back the things he'd lost since then. Some of them, he knew, were gone for good. For better or for worse, his father, for example. And Taylor…

"It's beautiful here," Jane had said. She'd seemed to be hypnotized by the twinkling lights in the distance.

"You should see it when it's light out," he remembered telling her as he nodded in agreement. "But this… this is pretty amazing too."

It was bittersweet to remember that night. She'd been so fragile then, so completely lost. In a way, he supposed that she'd come full circle to that scared, lost woman he'd first met. It seemed wrong that she couldn't be there with him at that moment. And yet…

Would you want her here? he asked himself. If it was possible, would you rather that she was here? After all, he had left the interrogation room because at the time, he hadn't been able to look at her any longer, not with so much swirling in his head.

His answer came with almost no hesitation, loud and clear. Yes, he thought, suddenly sure, I wish she was here.

Zapata knew that he may or may not want to talk, but that just bringing him here had been possibly the most important part she would play in helping him figure it all out. And that was OK with her, so she simply stood silently beside him for the time being.

Suddenly, he heard his own voice echo in his head. "It's going to be okay, ma'am," he had told her that night when she'd looked like she was about to break yet again. He couldn't help but chuckle, even though it tugged at his heart, to hear himself call her ma'am. Back then he'd known her for about twenty-four hours and already it had felt far too formal.

"I know you don't believe me…" he remembered telling her, "But whether you believe me or not, you are going to be okay."

But she isn't, is she…? he thought sadly. He only wished that he could have somehow kept that promise. That he could have stopped everything from going so terribly wrong. That he could make that same promise to her now, and have it be true. But he was far from sure of such a thing. Hell, he wished he could make that promise to himself – that he would be okay. But so much had happened, and who was really to say that things could be okay? Not just between the two of them, but at all. Maybe they were too badly damaged as individuals, and maybe being together would only make it worse. Or maybe they wouldn't have that choice. Maybe the FBI would make that choice for them. Maybe they wouldn't let her out of custody. Maybe… he felt himself caught in a spiral that he couldn't get out of, and he suddenly felt himself begin to panic. There were simply too many "what-ifs."

That was when Zapata's voice cut through his thoughts with an unexpected question. "Are you more angry, or more sad?" she asked.

Kurt turned to look at her beside him, and tried to sort through the buzz in his head. Could he even separate all the things he was feeling? He looked back at her, feeling completely helpless to explain how he felt. "Both," he replied slowly, "though differently than I was. I was angry with her, but now I'm angry with the people who did this to her. I was sad for myself, but now I'm more sad for both of us." He looked surprised at his own words, as if he was hearing these ideas for the first time himself.

Smiling at him sadly, Zapata just nodded, watching him and waiting to see if he would say anything else. She was really just there to listen, after all. When he fell quiet, she let the silence go on for a few minutes before speaking again. "Did she tell you anything so far that you can't forgive?"

He frowned, thinking back on everything that Jane had said to him. Honestly, it was hard to remember all of the details. What had he learned so far? He tried to do a mental inventory. That she really hadn't known that she wasn't Taylor… she'd been deceived right along with the rest of them. He was still digesting that fact, but if he was being fair, he couldn't hold that against her.

The fact that she had had a life before her memory was wiped, and that the person she had been had done things that were… questionable, at best… He'd known that for a long time already, it had just become clearer now – and he'd always believed that it would have been unfair to hold the person she was now responsible for the things she'd done when she was someone else. Now, even if she'd started to remember those things… No, it still wouldn't have fair to hold that over her.

He'd just learned about Oscar. So far it sounded like he'd been a huge piece of her past – he supposed that neither he nor Jane really knew just how big a role he'd played, before – but in her present, he seemed to be doing nothing but causing trouble for Jane, even if it was to follow some plan that he'd, or they'd, or she'd made before. Despite the fact that she said that she was responsible for the plan, really, that had been a different person, so Jane was not responsible. If she wasn't responsible for it, then there was nothing to forgive.

He'd also just learned about how she'd withheld information from him, how she'd actively lied to him about what was going on. She had lied about the things she remembered, about the people she came in contact with, about where she was going and what she was doing. So it wasn't as simple as just the fact that she had learned how to slip away from her security detail for a little freedom, as he'd thought. Maybe she had done that because she wanted to meet with this Oscar guy, he now realized. It sent a chill up his spine. He didn't like it at all. This was the first issue that he'd confronted that he would even consider to be difficult to swallow.

Then again, he reasoned quickly, she'd been afraid. Despite whatever connection we had, I was still a stranger to her. We now know that she wasn't Taylor, but even if she had been, she had no memory of me, and no real reason to trust me, not to the extent that I expected her to. It was disappointing, in a way, but completely understandable in another. She'd watched that Marcos guy get shot right in front of her, never having had time to tell her who to be careful of, so she distrusted everyone. In her place, he may have done the same. And then, in the end, when she had been deceitful, she had done it to save his own life. Though there was no proof of this, he knew that she was telling the truth. Yes, she had lied to him in the past – but he couldn't hold a grudge, since he'd lied to her as well – also to protect her. He knew, however, that she wasn't lying now.

The last thing she'd said was something about being responsible for the deaths of four people. He'd be lying if he said that that part didn't worry him. The first one was named Marcos. She'd already pretty much already explained what had happened with him. Kurt remembered the night when he'd been called to her first safe house, the night he'd been told that someone had broken in. He'd rushed there as fast as he could, worried that something had happened to her. She'd been fine, but he couldn't forget that feeling… the feeling that he'd failed to protect her. After all, how in the world had the FBI safe house been compromised? It was a safe house, for God's sake! It was supposed to be safe!

Jane had known Marcos before, and for whatever reason, they had learned later that the man had apparently come to warn her not to trust Oscar and the rest of the group. Why he'd done that, they may never know, but it was at least enough of an answer that he could accept it. After all, Marcos had clearly been killed by a sniper, and not Jane. Jane was trying to be a martyr, taking the blame for everyone else's sins for herself. It was so very like her… God, but she's stubborn, he thought, and felt a twinge in his chest.

As far as Oscar's death went, he didn't know anything yet, only that she had killed him herself. Knowing Jane, which he absolutely believed that he did, he knew that there had been extenuating circumstances. She was not malicious, and she would not have killed him for no reason. Especially since they had been… engaged.

Even in his mind, he couldn't bear to hear the word "engaged" in reference to Jane and Oscar. He thought back once again to the day of the mission at Rich Dotcom's party. Before they'd left the office, as they stood in the elevator, he'd slid the ring onto her finger. Not handed it to her to put on her own finger… but he'd done it for her. He'd told himself that he was just being a gentleman. And yes, Kurt prided himself on being a gentleman… but it wasn't just that. He'd felt something. The same something that he'd felt when they were dancing, moving gradually closer and closer, until their cheeks were nearly pressed together. He marveled over how completely he'd denied it to himself at the time, and how obvious it seemed now.

And so, as far as Oscar's death went, we could not yet make a judgement – but he was satisfied with giving her the benefit of the doubt until he could learn more.

The last two names on her list of four were extremely troubling, of course. There was Carter, the pain in the ass CIA officer who'd seemed to make it his personal mission to make their lives miserable the previous year. It had been a relief when he'd disappeared, except that he'd then turned up dead. Once again, he refused to believe that Jane had had malicious intentions toward the man, despite Carter's seeming vendetta against them. Whatever had happened, he knew it was not as simple as Jane just killing him to get rid of him. Besides, she would simply not do that.

And then there was Mayfair. This, of course, was the part of everything she'd told him that had troubled him the most. He had looked up to Mayfair for as long as he'd worked under her – until not so long ago when he'd found out about Daylight. He still couldn't believe that she'd allowed herself to get mixed up in it, no matter how good her intentions had been. It was simply impossible – Mayfair had been one of the good guys… before she'd made some bad choices.

The thing that suddenly occurred to him, however, was that he would never have thought Mayfair was capable of something like Daylight. As far as he had been concerned, Mayfair had been beyond reproach. And he'd just gotten done thinking the same thing about Jane. She would never do something like that. But if he could be wrong about Mayfair, could he also be wrong about Jane? It was a chilling thought, and he pushed it out of his mind just as quickly as it came.

He'd never heard anything about a problem of any kind between Jane and Mayfair. Their boss had been skeptical of Jane at first, but she had seemed to warm up to her as Jane had become a member of the team and had proved herself to all of them. Clearly, there was a lot that he didn't know about what had happened. Jane hadn't said that she'd killed Mayfair herself, however, only Oscar, so that was yet another reason not to jump to conclusions.

So of the four people whose deaths Jane felt so responsible for, was there anythingthat he knew so far that he couldn't forgive? The honest answer to that part of Zapata's question was "not yet." He couldn't decide for sure without more information – probably a lot more information.

Kurt heard Zapata's words in his head again.

"Did she tell you anything so far that you can't forgive?"

He'd been silent for at least five minutes when he finally looked back up at her. She'd been looking out at the water, waiting patiently for him to answer. It sounded like a simple question, but she knew that he was weighing every part of what he'd learned that day carefully before answering. It was just how he worked, and what made him so good at his job. He was thorough. But beyond that, he needed to work through everything she'd confessed so far methodically to get things straight in his own head.

"No," he said quietly, "at least, not yet." He looked relieved, and he was. That was what terrified him about this whole thing – he was afraid that Jane would tell him something that they wouldn't be able to come back from. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life angry with her… angry with himself… He didn't want to spend the rest of his life wishing for what they had had, because he knew for certain that he wouldn't find it again.

Zapata smiled at him then, feeling relieved as well. Though she'd promised Patterson that she'd bring him back to talk to Jane, and though she'd had every intention of doing just that, there was, of course, no guarantee that everything would go as planned. There was no guarantee that he would have calmed down and been able to think rationally and that he would be as calm as he now seemed. Confused, yes, but most importantly, calm.

"You look like hell, Weller. You want me to drop you off at home so you can get some sleep?" she asked. Jane would be impatient, but surely she couldn't begrudge the poor guy a little bit of sleep... But Zapata had a feeling that he wouldn't go for it, being the workaholic that he was. This otherwise innocent question was also a way to test out how exactly he was feeling toward Jane at that moment.

"No, thanks, Zapata," he replied without taking time to truly consider the option. "Let's head back. Jane and I aren't finished." She glanced at him and nodded.

Well there's your answer, Zapata. They're not finished… in more ways than one.

"Glad to hear it, Weller," she replied, shoving him with her shoulder good naturedly as they turned to walk back toward the car. This time, Kurt linked his arm through hers, prompting a look of surprise from Zapata. He nodded at her, and they continued on to the car.

JANE AND PATTERSON

The two women had been sitting side by side at the table, not speaking, and staring into space for quite some time when Patterson's phone buzzed in her pocket. The room was so still that the noise and the vibration made her jump slightly. Jane watched her take her phone out and unlock the screen, then watched as a wide smile spread across her face. She turned her hand so that the screen faced Jane, and Jane read the short message for herself.

Weller is calmed down. We're heading back. See you soon.

A pained smile replaced the deep frown that had sat on Jane's face while they'd sat lost in their own thoughts. It was good news, of course. But round two was coming… and she wasn't sure that it wouldn't be even harder than round one had been. There were still so many things that she needed to tell him, so many things that if it were her, she wouldn't be able to forgive. Hell, there were so many things that she'd done that she couldn'tforgive herself for, and she wasn't even the one that the things had been done to. Weller would be well within his rights to want nothing more to do with her. And while she could see it as a distinct possibility, it terrified her. She bit her lip, trying to remember all the reassuring words that Patterson had said to her, but finding only her own words about good intentions not being enough.

Patterson looked over at Jane and saw that she was shaking slightly, and looking like another round of panic was about to overtake her. "Jane," she said, looking at her friend seriously, "listen to me. We know you. Not just me, all of us. Weller too. We know you. Jane. You are not her – that girl without a name. What you've been through is horrible and unfair. It's hard for both of you. But at least give him a chance to make up his own mind, okay? He may surprise you."

There was a hint of desperation in Patterson's voice. She didn't know what else to say, but she felt that it was important to keep Jane calm. They had a long night ahead of them, after all. We can do this, Patterson thought determinedly. If she could just keep Jane calm… that, of course, was much easier said than done.