Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)
A/N: Sorry, this is another heavy one, but Kurt may be almost ready to turn an important corner… stay tuned!
Since Sawyer had ducked inside quickly, and Jane and Kurt had taken their time coming in, by the time they made it inside, the youngest Weller had already finished his lunch. Sarah had made grilled cheese and tomato soup for everyone, a fact that made Kurt immediately skeptical since Sarah wasn't exactly known for her cooking talents.
The two of them took off all of their wet outerwear and got it into the dryer, along with Jane's completely soaked socks. She hadn't been kidding when she'd said that there was a lot of snow inside her boots. Her feet were looking pink enough that he was a little concerned.
"I think everything I'm wearing is damp," Jane said, wrinkling her nose. "And cold. I should probably…"
"Go change?" Kurt asked with a smile. "Yeah, somehow I guess it wasn't a great idea for me to lay down in the snow for quite that long…" The shadow passed over his face again – the one she was beginning to recognize as the one that meant that he'd thought about Taylor. Though it was gone almost as quickly as it had come, she saw it nonetheless, and she put her hand on his arm to remind him that she was there.
"Let's go get something dry to wear, and stick these things in the dryer, and then we can go see what Sarah made," Jane said, looking at him with a steady smile. Just the even tone of her voice helped to calm him down, and he smiled at her gratefully.
"Good idea," he agreed.
They walked up the stairs, slowly and deliberately, each drawing strength from the other's proximity, using it as a shield against the ghosts of the past. At the top, Jane stepped just far enough out of the way that Kurt could step into the hallway before she turned to reassure herself that he was alright, having had to take her eyes off of him to walk up the steps. He saw the concern in her eyes, and he couldn't help but smile at her as they went into his room to retrieve their dry clothes.
Kurt was the first to find his, and he stood up quickly. "I'll just go and change in the bathroom," he told her. "Take your time." Looking up at him and smiling, she noted his strained expression and nodded before looking back at what she was doing.
A few minutes later, now in dry clothes and feeling much better, she emerged from the bedroom holding her damp clothes in a loose bundle, not too close to her side so that they didn't come in contact with what she was wearing now, to find Kurt leaning against the wall beside the bathroom door, his eyes on her.
"Waiting for someone?" she asked with a smile. For as hard as it was for both of them to be there among so many ghosts of the past, they were also doing a lot of smiling when the other one was around.
"Absolutely," he said, pushing off the wall and walking towards her. "You."
"Simple. Direct. I like it," Jane replied as he stopped inches in front of her, the hand that wasn't holding his wet clothes landing on her shoulder, once again sending sparks radiating out through her body from the point where his hand sat.
"Let's go downstairs," he said warmly, using the hand on her shoulder to turn her toward the stairs. She turned around easily from the slight pressure of his fingers against her shoulder, and he was surprised at just how very willing she was to be re-directed. She was now facing away from him, toward the stairs, but she looked back at him over her shoulder, chuckling. "I'm hungry," he added as a rationale for turning her around. "Hopefully it's edible, whatever it is."
Shaking her head, she chose to hope for the best as far as lunch was concerned. "Mmmm, yes, good idea," she replied. As she turned her head forward, her chin brushed against the back of his hand on her shoulder, and she found that even that small touch made her blush yet again. Just before they started down the stairs, she felt the hand on her shoulder tug her slightly and he leaned down to her ear.
"Nice sweatshirt, by the way," he said. His cheek brushed against hers just enough to make her lean towards him in response without even thinking about it. For a second, she felt as though there were butterflies in her stomach.
"Oh, thanks," she replied, as they now stood at the top of the stairs with their cheeks leaned against each other, both knowing very well that it was his. "I'm sort of fond of it myself. Or maybe it's just the owner I'm fond of."
More and more, the words and gestures that said that there was something going on between them were just sort of slipping out of both of them, and this was just another instance of that. Jane was glad that she wasn't facing him, and therefore didn't have to look into his eyes in embarrassment over the words that had just slipped out of her mouth. Of course, she also knew that it wasn't as though he minded what she'd said, and her further proof, besides the fact that after the past few, intense days, she simply knew, came when he pressed a kiss to her cheek and squeezed her shoulder.
They heard footsteps that sounded distinctly Sarah-like at the bottom of the stairs, and they straightened up again so that they could walk down before she came up looking for them. When they got to the bottom of the stairs they saw her straightening the boots on the mat along the wall – an excuse, no doubt, to subtly work her way up and look for them, Kurt thought.
"Ready to eat?" she asked them.
"Did you cook again?" Kurt asked her skeptically.
"Yes, smarty pants," Sarah replied. "And for the record, it tastes good. But you can come and see for yourself."
Jane shook her head at the teasing between the siblings as they took their wet clothes to add to the load in the dryer, then wandered toward the kitchen. Instead of Jane's shoulder, Kurt's hand now rested lightly on her lower back. She could just barely feel the touch through his thick sweatshirt, and it caused a similarly electric feeling as the other times that he made contact with her.
From the kitchen, they looked over to see Sawyer sprawled out on the couch in the family room, watching the original Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on TV. It was the same version that Kurt and Sarah had watched as kids. He looked up when they walked in and grinned at them, calling, "Uncle Kurt! Jane! Look what we found! It's one of my favorites."
"I love that one," Kurt agreed. "We're gonna have to watch it with Jane later, too." Sawyer looked delighted at the prospect as he happily turned back to the TV.
Sarah set down plates of grilled cheese sandwiches in front of them, followed immediately by bowls of tomato soup. Jane smiled when she saw it, for two reasons.
"It smells great, Sarah," she said appreciatively. "This is the second time a Weller has made this particular meal for me."
Sarah looked with interest from Jane to Kurt, and Kurt looked at her in surprise, a smile growing on his face at the memory.
"You made this for me once," she told him.
"Wow, that was…" he trailed off, remembering when he'd taken care of her during a very nasty bout of poison ivy not long after they'd met. To say that she was allergic to it was quite an understatement.
"A very long time ago," she said, finishing his sentence with a nod, looking back down at her food. There was a heavy silence for a few seconds, as both of them remembered that time, before everything had gotten so… complicated. Before it had all gone so wrong between them.
"Well," Sarah chimed in to break the silence, "I'll bet he didn't make them as fancy as I did." From the look on her face, it was clear that she was dying for someone to ask the obvious question.
"Okay, I'll bite, what makes yours so fancy?" Kurt asked in amusement. The food looked and smelled good, but he still wasn't convinced that it was edible. Past experience with her cooking had made him skeptical, even though it seemed that she'd improved dramatically since they'd moved to Portland.
"Avocado," Sarah replied proudly. Kurt moved the top slice of bread on his sandwich slightly to reveal that there was, indeed, avocado inside, surrounded by melted cheese. Jane happened to be taking a bite at that moment, and she made an appreciative noise.
"Wow," she added when she'd finished chewing, "this is amazing."
"Glad you like it," Sarah said happily, "I've been watching a lot of Food Network," she admitted with a grin. Jane and Kurt chuckled as they ate, and for the next few minutes the three of them were quiet, just eating their lunches and half listening to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer floating in from the TV in the adjoining room.
When he'd finished, Kurt stretched and, as he draped his arm over the back of Jane's chair, which came up to the middle of her back, he noticed that he'd moved his chair closer to hers without even noticing. It was just one more thing about Jane that made him smile.
"Just so we're clear, I'm making dinner. Not an all-out fancy Christmas dinner, most likely, since I don't even know what there is in the house, but I'm in charge of that one," Kurt told Sarah sternly once all three of them were finished and the dishes were in the dishwasher.
"Understood. I will diligently relax unless instructed otherwise," Sarah replied seriously, before the façade cracked and she grinned at her brother. He was so serious. Well, except with Jane, who seemed to be really good for him, especially considering how much trouble he must be having with thoughts of Taylor, here of all places.
"What about me?" Jane asked, as Sarah wandered toward the TV, sitting on the couch by Sawyer. "Do I get to help, or am I banished as well?" She looked at him playfully as he pretended to consider the question.
"You can definitely stick around," he told her with a smile. After all, he'd rather have her close to him than anywhere else in the world. "But it's not time to make dinner yet. Why don't we go and join the movie crew? Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is one you have to see. It's a classic."
Jane was feeling sleepy, and the prospect of relaxing with a movie and with Kurt sounded just perfect. "Sounds good," she nodded, standing up and pushing in her chair.
When they walked in, Sarah attempted to get Sawyer to sit up on the couch, but Jane and Kurt both waved her off and headed for the spot on the floor where they'd been sitting before, in front of the fire. Kurt added another log before they sat down, and then before taking his place by Jane, took a large pillow from the armchair at the far end of the couch.
Jane was watching him curiously, and when he sat down slightly behind her at the angle that she was facing to watch the movie, laying the pillow in his lap and tapping the center of it with his hand, she didn't hesitate to lay back against it. His left hand rested just below her left shoulder, and she brought her right hand up, laying her arm across her chest and laid her hand on top of his, holding on gently. His other hand sat lightly against her scalp, just behind her right ear, his fingers moving ever so slightly. It was extremely soothing, and within minutes she felt her eyelids growing heavy. Knowing that she was probably going to fall sleep if he continued, she attempted to tell herself to sit back up. However, she was completely unwilling to do so, as comfortable as she was in exactly that spot.
So what if I fall asleep, after all?
"Kurt," Sarah called him from across the room in a loud whisper. When he tore his eyes away from Jane, whose eyes had closed against her will, and looked up at his sister, he saw that she was ready to toss him a blue and white plaid blanket. Reaching his free arm out for it, he caught it easily, and then went about spreading it over Jane gently, which was a little harder than it would have been if he'd had both of his hands free.
Not too long afterwards, the movie ended and Kurt looked up to see that Sawyer, who Sarah had also covered in a blanket, had also fallen asleep. "Do you want me to put something else on?" she asked him quietly. Kurt shook his head – he hadn't been paying attention to the movie as it was. Between the crackling fire to his left and Jane's head on the pillow in his lap, he was absolutely fine where he was, with no further entertainment required.
"No, thanks, I'm good," he told her in a soft voice.
Sarah could hear something in his voice that told her that her brother was better than "good." He was finally happy.
"You know," she whispered, "when I said that I thought that it might be good for you to come back here one more time… I really did think it would help." He nodded, his face suddenly pained.
"I know," he said simply.
"I know what the whole thing with Dad, and Taylor… I know what it did to you, Kurt, and I'm sorry… I can see from watching you how much it still hurts." She looked at him regretfully.
He just nodded. After all, what could he say? He'd be lying if he denied how much it hurt to be there, to see Taylor everywhere, to hear even the faint echoes of his father… though he'd tuned most of those out so far.
"But I can also see how happy Jane makes you," Sarah added softly. Kurt had to smile then, because he knew that Sarah was right. He couldn't deny that either. "I'm glad you guys worked it all out," she said, "whatever it was."
"Me, too," he replied, thinking that even though Sarah didn't know the half of it, she could see the important parts, and that finally, none of the rest of it mattered.
Sarah looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to force this trip on you. I really thought it would help."
"I know," he repeated. "Without her here, I don't know… I think it would've been too much. But luckily, it didn't come to that… I hadn't even realized how much I needed her. I'd put so much energy into pushing her away…"
"So I'm doubly glad she's here then," Sarah replied quietly. Kurt just nodded, looking down at Jane fondly. Forty-eight hours ago, back before the party, now felt like several lifetimes ago. He looked into the fire to his left, allowing his mind to wander as he watched the bright orange embers glow and move and change, the fire slowly changing the wood to ash, but giving a spectacular show in the process.
Why does it look like that? he suddenly heard Taylor ask. For a second he couldn't breathe, and his eyes closed involuntarily at the memory.
Like what? he asked her in his memory. That's what fire looks like.
But why? she asked persistently. She was just barely three, and she never, ever stopped asking him why.
That's just how it is, he told her patiently. He had always wondered why Sarah had driven him so crazy with her own questions at that age, and yet his patience with Taylor had seemed infinite.
Just how it is? she'd echoed, trying out the words for herself.
Yep, just how it is, he'd affirmed.
Later that evening, when Emma Shaw had come to pick Taylor up, Kurt had overheard Taylor say, I love you mommy, and that's just how it is. When Emma Shaw had asked Taylor where she'd learned that phrase, she'd grinned and looked over at Kurt, quickly hiding her face against her mom's shoulder as he'd grinned at her.
You're so good with her, Emma had told him, standing there with Taylor burrowed against her shoulder. She worships you, you know.
She's so sweet, he remembered saying, before hearing the sound of his father coming into the house from outside through the back door.
Hi, Emma. Hey, Taylor, his father had said in greeting, glancing at the Shaws and then walking to the refrigerator.
At the time he'd thought nothing of it, but now Kurt bristled at the memory, wanting to force the man – the monster – out of the room completely, never letting him come close enough to Taylor to even look at her again. Of course, that was impossible. It was a memory. It was done. It had happened… all of it, and nothing he could do would change it.
That may have been the worst part. For most of his life, he had always prided himself on fixing things, on saving people… All because of his relentless determination to do so, stemming from his very first failure. His failure to save Taylor. The fact that no matter what he did, he would never be able to fix it, to atone – he saw this now, after years of trying to save other people to make up for Taylor – it was still eating him up inside, twenty-five years later… It may even have been worse now than ever before, since he'd found out what had actually happened to her.
Sighing, he looked away from the fire, trying to force the memory to fade. Instead, he focused on Jane, sprawled out in front of him, sleeping with her head in his lap. Her right hand still covered his left, holding it against her left arm, and her head had tilted slightly to the left as well, so that her cheek leaned against arm.
No, he couldn't change what had happened in the past any more than she could, but he could do his best to make the present a place where both of them could be happy, despite everything that had come before.
With his right hand, he smoothed her hair, starting from the top of her head just behind her right temple, moving over her head until he came to the pillow and then starting from the top again. At first he didn't even realize that he was doing it, and once he did, it was simply too soothing for him to stop. Besides, he didn't really think she'd want him to, if she woke up.
He heard Sarah murmuring something across the room, and looked up to see Sawyer sitting up and blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Hey, buddy," Kurt said softly.
"Jane fell asleep, too?" Sawyer asked, looking down at the sleeping woman with a smile.
"She sure did," Kurt replied, keeping his voice quiet. "She didn't sleep well last night. We'll have to give Rudolph another chance, maybe later." Sawyer just nodded, getting up from the couch and wandering toward the kitchen.
"Hey mom," Sawyer called just a little too loudly, "can I have a snack?"
Glancing down at Jane, Kurt saw her begin to stir. Sarah had noticed that Sawyer's voice was a little too loud as well, and followed him toward the kitchen, attempting to answer his question while also shushing him.
Jane's eyes blinked open and for a second she struggled to focus, confused as to why she was looking up at Kurt but he seemed to be upside down.
"Hey," she said, her voice slightly raspy.
"Hey, yourself," he replied, "you have a good nap?"
"Mmmm," she replied with a smile, still very drowsy and a little out of it. "Pretty good," she added, and then her smile intensified and her voice dropped to barely a whisper, "but not as good as last night." He watched as her cheeks turned pink, and then she started to backpedal, as if he hadn't been there himself.
"I mean, not that… you know…" she stuttered, her whole face suddenly turning bright red.
"You are so cute when you're embarrassed and awkward," he whispered as he leaned his face down close to hers. They were at opposite angles, since he was peering over her, and it was a little disconcerting. If she was being honest, she wanted nothing more at that moment than to curl up with him, the way they had in the sleeping bag, and to go back to sleep. Then again, she knew that that moment would come later that night, and as much as that was what she wanted, she also felt slightly uneasy about it, for whatever reason. But that was a problem to deal with later.
As she slowly woke up he was coming into sharper focus, and she narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "Are you okay?" she asked.
Damn, he thought, why does she have to be so observant?
She had noticed that he had the shadow of that look on his face again – the one he'd had when he'd been seeing Taylor. He didn't seem to want to tell her about it, or at least he hadn't done so so far, though she wished that he would… not because she was nosy, or because she felt like he owed it to her or anything, but more because she thought that if he would just talk about it, maybe he'd be less haunted by it… And also, because of how much he would have to trust her to talk about Taylor like that. She knew that it was probably too much to hope for that he would trust her like that, after everything…
Stop thinking like that, she told herself. He agreed to the deal, after all, and you're here, aren't you? It's not impossible. These things take time. Baby steps.
Lifting her head off of the pillow and turning around so that she could look into her eyes, she sat up slowly. He could tell from the look on her face that she was still waiting for an answer to her question. Smiling sadly, he just nodded before looking away. Pulling herself closer beside him, she reached her left arm around his lower back, and he automatically draped his right arm across her shoulders as her head dropped down to rest on his shoulder. Both of them stared into the fire, and then suddenly, to his dismay, he heard her voice again.
It's so pretty, Taylor said reverently, staring into the flames. She was a little older than she'd been in his last memory. Maybe four years old?
Don't get too close, his nine year old self warned her instinctively. You'll burn yourself.
She'd turned and looked at him with a face full of so much attitude, for a second he'd wanted to burst out laughing – it looked hilarious coming from a girl so little. Hello! I know that, she'd chided him.
Jane was watching in a combination of fascination and dismay as it seemed to be happening again before her eyes. The worst part was that she was powerless to do anything to help, or so she felt.
That's right, he'd told her, as if he'd suddenly remembered, you're a big girl now.
Almost as big as you! See? She'd held up her hand above her head where she knelt beside him, bringing it across to his forehead in a not-even-close-to-even line, attempting to demonstrate that they were the same size.
I see, he had told her, as seriously as he possibly could, despite how badly he wanted to laugh.
His eyes were closed, his head down, and his breathing was shaky and shallow. Jane withdrew her arm from his back, turned toward him and pushed herself up so that she was kneeling, as she put both arms around his shoulders and held on tight. She didn't need to know what precisely he was remembering to know that it was overwhelming him once again.
Sarah and Sawyer were still nearby, in the kitchen, and it seemed to her that he wouldn't want to be seen as anything but his regular self in front of them, especially Sawyer. She thought desperately, trying to figure out where else they could possibly go that would not hold some sort of whisper, some memory of Taylor. He just needed a break, somewhere to catch his breath, somewhere where he didn't see Taylor. The problem was that she truly was everywhere here. It was to be expected of course, since she'd been such a big part of his life, and Jane now understood even better what a sacrifice he'd made for his sister, coming back here knowing what it would probably do to him.
Then suddenly, it was as if a lightbulb came on in her head. "Hey," she whispered to him, next to his ear the way he liked to whisper to her, "Come with me." She stood up slowly, not wanting to release him, but needing to do so in order to get him to move. A change of scenery would be worth it.
After a moment, he slowly stood up as well, opening his eyes and looking at her questioningly. There was so much raw emotion there, and she silently scolded herself for thinking a few minutes before that he didn't trust her. If that had been the case, there's no way he would have let her see this side of him. She knew all too well what it looked like when his walls were up, after all.
Taking his hand gently in hers, she took a step away from the fire and tugged slightly, urging him to follow her. She looked back at him, her eyes going to his, and her heart ached for him all over again when she saw his expression. It was the closest to desperation she'd ever seen from Kurt Weller. Tugging at his hand, pleading with her eyes for him to follow her, she took a tentative step in the direction of the front hallway, and then another. He did follow her, but she got the feeling that, had she not been holding onto him, he would have stayed right where he was. But that was okay with her. After all, he'd done this for her – rescued her from her own thoughts more times than she could count, even if most of them had been a long time ago – she could do this for him without a second thought.
They were in the front hallway when Sarah rounded the corner behind them, her eyes meeting Jane's questioningly just as she was about to tell Kurt to put his boots on.
"We're just going to get some air for a few minutes," she said quietly, hoping that Sawyer wouldn't overhear and think that they were going back outside to play. Jane hoped that Sarah would understand what she was trying to tell her.
Looking at the two of them, especially Kurt's posture and the fact that he didn't even look up, but had simply let Jane speak for them, Sarah had a pretty good general idea what was going on. Poor Kurt, the ghosts are just everywhere for him, she thought, once again feeling guilty about having made him come there after so many years.
Sarah looked up at Jane and smiled, and Jane just nodded sadly, then looked back at Kurt and whispered something softly to him as Sarah moved back around the corner to the kitchen. Sarah was at least grateful to know that her brother was well taken care of.
Jane had told Kurt that they were going outside for a few minutes, and that he should put on his boots and his jacket. "And no, we're not going to sit in the snow," she told him with a grin in an attempt at humor that was lost on him.
When he slipped his feet into his boots and then stopped, she shook her head sadly and retrieved his jacket from the hook on which it hung nearby, helping him into it and then reaching up to put her palm against his cheek. This seemed to get his attention, and he looked at her sadly for the first time in several minutes. After standing like that for a minute, she withdrew her hand reluctantly, tugging the zipper of his jacket up and standing on her toes to reach up high enough to pull his hat down over his head. Tucking his gloves into his pocket just in case, she quickly put on her own boots, jacket and hat, putting her gloves into her own pocket, then put her hand into the other pocket of his jacket, fishing out the keys to the car.
He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, to which she replied simply, "You'll see." He didn't react beyond that, simply stared at her.
Please don't be as close to the breaking point as you look like you are, she begged him silently.
The bitter cold met them as soon as she opened the front door, as she beckoned him out after her and then closed the door behind them. She took his hand securely in hers, both to keep the two of them steady of the slippery ground and to keep him moving. She walked the two of them down to the street in front of the house, where he'd parked the SUV the evening before – had it really only been yesterday? – around to the driver's side, since the passenger's side was so tightly parked against the snowbank. The car chirped as she clicked the keyfab, and she opened the door to the backseat.
He didn't even question her, simply climbed in and scooted himself over half-heartedly to the middle. Leaving the door open, she walked to the door at the front and opened it, putting the key in the ignition and turning it to start the car before closing the door again and returning to the backseat, climbing in beside him. She could already feel the cold in her bare fingers, but this time they had the luxury of keeping the heat on. After all, they weren't going to sit out here for a long time. She just needed to give him a little time to calm down. There wasn't really anywhere in the house or even outside the house that was neutral ground, but here in the car, she hoped that just maybe, he wouldn't see Taylor. It was hard for her just to watch him remember the little girl and see how much it hurt him, and she assumed it was a thousand times harder for him.
Scooting as close to him as she could, she grasped both of his hands tightly and looked up at him. "So," she began quietly, "this was the only place I could think of that might not have any painful memories."
She's simply amazing, he thought in awe. He knew that it wasn't hard to see that he was distraught, but the fact that she had thought of one place where he could possibly relax because it wasn't part of his childhood… her thoughtfulness overwhelmed him.
Smiling sadly, he nodded, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers and exhaling loudly. Breathe, he told himself. Just breathe.
For a minute he seemed to be breathing faster, and she wondered if her well intentioned gesture had somehow gone terribly wrong. However, he seemed to calm down after that, his breathing slowing back to normal. His head remained leaned against hers and he felt his grip on her hands tighten.
"She's just everywhere," he whispered, and her heart broke for him all over again.
"I know," she said, holding on tighter to his hands and leaning against him harder. Really, there was nothing else she could say or do, and that was what was killing her. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said, shaking his head sadly. "You're the only thing holding me together. I'm the one who's sorry."
"Nope," she said resolutely, releasing her right hand from his with some difficulty, and then bringing her index finger to his lips, "none of that." It was the same thing he'd said to her in the car, what felt like a million years ago, when their extreme proximity in the sleeping bag had triggered a mini-panic attack, leading her to apologize. Now she told him the same thing, meaning them just as sincerely as he had before. "Don't apologize, because you have nothing to be sorry for."
Recognizing his own words being fed back to him, he smiled weakly. Despite how much his heart was aching from thoughts of Taylor, it was simultaneously full because of Jane. He never would have thought that both would be possible at once, and yet… apparently they were.
He wished he could put into words what he felt about her at that moment, but as he let go of the hand that he was holding and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as he could, making her finger fall from his lips – despite how much he'd liked it there – he hoped that just maybe, she understood. After all, as she returned the hug, he couldn't help but think that she seemed to see exactly what he needed. Maybe it was possible that she did know how he felt.
The bone-crushing hug that he wrapped her in was at once desperate and comforting, and she was relieved to see that he was no longer withdrawn and closed off, as he'd been in the house and when they'd first come outside. That had been the thing that had scared her the most. Kurt was the strongest person she knew, and it was frightening to see such a strong person look broken. Not that he didn't have every reason to be just that here, in this place. All she'd been able to think was that she had had to help him fight it. After all, he'd spent so much time fighting for her.
Maybe not as much as he should have, of course.
The thought had made it past her filter before she'd had a chance to stop it, and she didn't so much flinch as she did acknowledge it and then push it away.
No, we aren't going there anymore, she told herself simply, and just like that, the thought bounced off of her newly formed mental armor and it was gone. She was going to be okay. They both were, and she was not going to accept any other outcome.
"I just keep hearing her voice in my head," he said quietly. "Silly things, nothing important, just… conversations. Things I never even knew that I remembered. I don't think I've thought of them since they happened, or maybe… at least not since I was last here. It's like this place tapped my brain back into some sort of database and now I can't stop remembering. The longer we're here, the more it happens."
She nodded, relaxing her arms but keeping them wrapped around him. He did the same, and she rested her head against his shoulder as he looked down at her, almost seeming surprised to find her there, even though he'd been the one to pull her closer.
"You blocked it out completely for a long time," she said slowly, "because it hurt so much. And I know that it still does, but now that you know…" she hesitated, trying to choose her words carefully, "…well, probably as much as you're ever going to know about what happened… maybe you can… find closure. Maybe that will let you remember her, let you stop blocking out the memories." She stopped talking and picked up her head so that she could lean back and look at him, hoping that she hadn't gone too far already.
The look on his face told her that he was considering what she'd said, that it wasn't as crazy as she'd suddenly feared, hadn't made him angry or anguished or anything else that she so wanted to avoid. So she added the one other thing that she had been thinking, but was still a little bit reluctant to suggest. "Maybe if you stop fighting the memories, maybe they won't hurt as much." She wasn't a psychologist, of course, and it was just an idea…
She could be right, he realized. He hadn't let himself think about any of his specific memories of Taylor for so very long, and now he was overwhelmed by them. But maybe it wasn't so much that he'd been plugged into a database, as he'd suggested. Maybe it was simply the flood of memories of five much too short and yet very full years with this girl who had been like family to him, who for whatever reason had elevated him to superhero status. He was still trying to let go of the anger he felt with his father over what he had taken away, and he knew that that would take a long time, but maybe somehow he could figure out a way to keep these precious memories of Taylor that he'd fought so desperately not to have because they'd hurt so much. Maybe he could make peace with that part of his past and remember her fondly, even if it still made him sad.
I'm not really one to talk about not fighting memories, Jane thought as she watched him process what she'd said, suddenly seeing the irony of her words. She'd been horrified by so many of her own memories, after all, and accepting them, accepting the person that she'd been, had been a very hard fight. But then again, maybe that just made her more qualified to give that kind of advice, not less.
"Maybe," he whispered, setting his forehead down against the top of her head and inhaling the scent of her shampoo. All at once he felt calm, a calm that he hadn't felt in a very long time, maybe longer than he could remember, even the times that he'd been with Jane and thought he'd been at peace. He breathed deeply, wondering how he could possibly ever thank her enough for what she had done for him, for being there. Hell, he couldn't even put it into words in his head, much less repay her.
They sat there like that for a while longer, before Jane reluctantly shifted, attempting to get him to lift his head and look at her. "We should turn the car off and go inside," she said, though she wished that they could stay right where they were indefinitely. "It's probably not a good idea to use all our gas idling." While he knew that what she said was absolutely true, he was wishing the same thing that she was at that moment.
"I know, but I wish we didn't have to," he replied. "I'd rather stay right here with you, just like this."
"Me too," she said softly, smiling warmly at him. "Do you feel any better?"
"More than I can even put into words," he told her, putting one hand up to her cheek and moving his thumb slowly across it. "Thank you."
She bit her lip as her breath caught in her throat then, relieved that she'd managed to help after all. For a few seconds they just stared at each other, smiling.
"But before we go inside…" he said, leaving off the rest of his sentence. It was unnecessary anyway, as he leaned down until their faces were inches apart, where he paused, slowly leaning his nose against the bridge of hers, then leaning back ever so slightly, so that his nose almost lifted away from her skin before moving his face slowly, so that the tip of his nose moved slowly from the bridge of hers, back up to the middle of her forehead, so slightly that it almost wasn't touching her skin. Except that it was, and once again, there was a trail of sparks left along the path his nose had taken.
Pausing then, he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose gently. Still moving slowly, he then moved his face down until it was even with hers, where he paused again. She couldn't help but smile at him, because, well, how could she?
He was looking at her steadily from only inches away when she leaned forward and kissed him, both of them smiling so wide that they could feel it even with their lips finally made contact, their eyes closing. When they stopped for air a few minutes later, their eyes fluttered open at almost the same second, revealing that they both still had the same smiles on their faces as they had when they'd started, which only made them smile harder – which they would have thought was impossible.
"Okay?" she asked, reaching for the door handle but not yet moving away from him.
"Right behind you," he replied, and she was momentarily caught off guard by the way he was looking at her. He was smiling, yes, but it wasn't just that. The look in his eyes… it reminded her of the way he'd looked at her back at the beginning, when he'd thought she was Taylor, except that now it was even more intense. She simply didn't want to look away.
"Good," she said, momentarily wishing once again that they could just stay where they were, in their own little bubble. "Because I think you promised to make dinner, didn't you? You probably need to start thinking about that soon."
He chuckled at her, shaking his head. "I think you're right… so get moving!" he laughed. The tension in the air was gone, and it had been replaced by something like euphoria.
She climbed out of the car, opening the front door once again and taking the key out of the ignition, then handing the keys back to Kurt, who just shrugged. "You can keep them in your pocket if you want. It's not as though I'm going anywhere without you." That had been a given, of course, but it still made her smile to hear him say it. Closing up the car and clicking the keyfab to lock the doors, then putting the keys in her pocket, she turned and found Kurt's hand as they walked back up the driveway.
At the door, he tugged on her hand, pulling her to a stop before either of them reached for the doorknob. He leaned down and she thought that he was going to kiss her again, but instead he wrapped his arms around her tightly once more, then kissed her forehead. "Thank you," he mumbled against her skin, "again."
"Of course," she whispered. "Always."
They stayed there, holding on tightly to each other, for another minute before leaning back reluctantly, smiling at each other.
"Let go get warmed up again," he said. "Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?" he asked as he opened the door.
"Ummm… yes," she replied. "One of those."
He shook his head at her in amusement as he closed the door behind them, grateful to be back inside where it was warm. Hoping that Jane was right – that if he didn't fight the memories, maybe they wouldn't hurt so much – he knew that one way or another, he'd be figuring it out soon. It wasn't going to be easy, no matter what happened, but that was okay, though, because easy wasn't something that ever seemed to happen to him. He was used to that. Besides, if it – his life – had been easy, he wouldn't be where he was just then, and at that moment, standing beside Jane, he knew that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.