Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)
They put their wet things – jackets, snow pants, hats, gloves, scarves and Jane's socks – into the dryer once again, and Jane went upstairs to get another pair while Kurt headed for the kitchen to take a look at what he was going to make for dinner. Sarah had added a few more logs to the fire, and she and Sawyer were settling down on the couch with a movie.
Opening the refrigerator, Kurt was impressed with the selection. Considering Sarah had only been stocking up for their few days there, there was actually a very good variety of food. This was both good and bad, of course, because it gave him a lot of options… He held the door open and stood peering inside, waiting for inspiration to strike him.
Instead, what hit him was another memory.
Can we have macaroni and cheese? he heard Taylor begging. Please? He remembered that she'd drawn out the long e sound in please, the way kids so often do, looking up at him with such a cute, sad face… it had always been his undoing. And then suddenly Sarah was there too, the younger Sarah, a few years older than Taylor but on the topic of macaroni and cheese, completely in agreement.
Kurt, you promised yesterday that you'd make it, Sarah said in much more of a whine than the sweet tone that Taylor was using. If it had only been Sarah, he wasn't sure he would have acquiesced, but he never had been able to say no to Taylor. Well, not unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then he'd always felt like the worst person in the world.
Alright, alright, I'll make macaroni and cheese, he'd replied, pretending that he'd seriously considered making anything else. The girls had jumped up and down, shrieking with excitement the way they did when they wound each other up.
Okay, relax, he'd said loudly, covering his ears, before I change my mind. The two girls had quieted down then. It won't be ready for a little while, he'd told them. I'll let you know when.
Thanks, Kurt, the younger version of Sarah had chirped happily, skipping over to the same couch where the older Sarah now sat and picking up a book that lay at one end, getting comfortable and opening it to read.
Taylor, on the other hand, had stayed right where she was and continued to watch him.
You should go do something, I'll let you know when it's ready, he'd assured her again.
I know, she'd told him. But I'd rather hang out with you.
She had to have been five at the time, because it was the oldest he remembered her being. There was something about the matter-of-fact way that she'd said it, and the way she'd looked up at him. Taylor had always had a special way of looking at him, even her mom had commented on it many time over the years. He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, he only knew that no one else he knew looked at him that way… as if he was the most important person in the world. Maybe that was why he was such a sucker for doing what she wanted. He simply hated to refuse her anything.
He'd smiled back at her and said, That's fine by me, and then scooped her up and deposited her on the counter to sit and watch him while he worked. This was the way it usually happened when she kept him company in the kitchen, and the look of delight on her face told him that he'd done exactly as she'd hoped.
You're my best friend, Kurt, she'd told him as she'd lifted her feet out of the way so he could open the cabinet just below where she sat to get a pot in which to boil water. He saw his young self beam back at her, and while he remembered feeling truly happy in that moment, now, in the present tense, he felt an ache in his chest so intense that for a few seconds, it took his breath away.
Taylor had put her arms out for a hug then, as she often did with the exuberance of an affectionate five year old, and Kurt had stepped forward obligingly, faster than usual so that she didn't decide to launch herself off of the counter top in her excitement. He didn't care that other kids at school thought it was weird that he so often had a five year old girl who was not actually his sister tagging along with him, and he had told them so on many occasions. When it came to Taylor, there was almost nothing that Kurt wouldn't do for her.
The pain in his chest had intensified, and he leaned his head down against his right arm, which now rested on the top of the door of the refrigerator. Sarah looked up from the couch and noticed his stance with concern, but she also saw Jane approaching him from the other side of the kitchen so she stayed where she was, almost certain that her assistance would not be needed. If anything, Jane would be able to do a better job at calming her brother down than she would.
Jane walked through the doorway of the kitchen, now wearing not one but two pairs of socks on her freezing cold feet, and saw the back of Kurt as he leaned his head down against his arm.
Maybe I'm just in time, she thought, approaching him cautiously. Instead of walking up behind him, she went around to the other side of the refrigerator door, where she could look at him from the front. The disadvantage, of course, was that there would be a door between them, but she'd feel better if she could look him in the eyes.
"Hey," she said softly as she came to stand in front of him. "You okay?" Her left hand landed gently on the top of his head, and she ran her fingers lightly through his hair to the back of his neck, moving her fingertips lightly against his skin. He didn't look up, and she noticed that his breathing was slow and deliberate, as if he was concentrating hard on every breath. Her first thought was to get him out from inside the door of the refrigerator, and she put her right hand against the side of his left shoulder, tugging him slowly away from the refrigerator. When she finally got him clear of the door and pushed it closed, she was surprised by the speed with which he almost collapsed against her, wrapping her in a hug once again.
He felt himself shaking as Jane pried him out from behind the refrigerator door, and it was all he could do not to knock her over with the force of his hug when he was finally able to put his arms around her. The pain in his chest was so intense this time, so much worse than the other times, he was unable to form sentences, or even words, despite how much he wanted to. He was relieved when he felt her arms tighten around him, simply holding on.
I just need another minute, he thought, willing the pain in his heart to go away.
Whatever was happening inside his head, she could tell that this one must have been worse than the other flashbacks that she'd witnessed so far. She didn't think she had ever had anyone hold onto her as desperately as he was holding onto her then, at least, no one that she remembered… He was shaking, she noted with concern, and his breathing was shaky, which only made her pull him tighter against her, wishing with everything inside her that there was something more that she could do for him. Even though she knew that this was his fight, something that he had to endure in order to get past it, and that what she was doing was exactly what he needed her to do, still she felt completely inadequate just then. More than anything, she just wanted to make it stop.
She wondered if she should get him to go somewhere else, but short of going back to the car once again, there was nowhere that wouldn't be full of memories. Still, she decided, if she could at least get him around the corner and out of view of Sarah and Sawyer, they'd have a little bit of privacy, and he might appreciate that. With that thought in mind, she whispered, "Come on, let's go into the dining room." For a second she didn't think he'd heard her, because there was no sign that he intended to move.
When she whispered into his ear about going to the dining room, it took a few seconds before the words penetrated his brain. Once they did, it took him a few more seconds to think about why she wanted to go into the dining room. Besides possibly just moving him away from the scene of his flashback, he reasoned that it made sense that she'd try to get them out of sight of Sarah and Sawyer, who he now remembered could see him from where they were. Grateful for her thoughtfulness, he nodded against the side of her face and turned himself partway, not letting go of her with either arm but at least straightening up enough to be able to walk as she steered the two of them out of the kitchen and towards the next room.
They'd slowly worked their way to the dining room, and Jane simply held onto him patiently, holding on tightly with her left hand and making slow circles on his lower back with her right. After he'd talked about his past few flashbacks, she now felt slightly more confident that he would tell her about it, but she was fine with it if he didn't want to. The only thing that was important to her was he was okay. Since he hadn't yet reached that point, she simply continued doing what she was doing.
It took a few minutes, but his breathing returned to normal and he began to stand back up. His eyes opened and he turned to his side and then, seeing the wall a few feet away from them, he backed himself towards it. He'd loosened his grip on her, but hadn't let go completely, however, as he backed away, his hands slipped down her arms and then fell to his sides just as his back came in contact with the wall.
She tried not to read into the fact that he still looked so shaken, and yet he had just backed away from her and let go of her completely. This is not about you, she reminded herself. This is about him. Turning to face him but leaving the space between them – even though she wanted to close it again – she kept her eyes on him, waiting for a clue as to what to do next.
He was surprised when suddenly he opened his eyes to find that he was leaning his back against the wall and she was several feet away from him. How did that happen? he wondered, wishing that the space between them would disappear. He wasn't ready to move off of the wall to get closer to her, however. After all, it felt like the wall was the only thing holding him up as he began to speak.
His eyes closed again as he began to form the words. "I was looking in the refrigerator, and then all of a sudden I looked over and I could see her there, at the kitchen table." He took a breath, and she stayed right where she was, watching and listening. "She begged me to make macaroni and cheese one night. Well, lots of nights, really. Her mom was at work and my dad was… out… somewhere… As soon as she saw that I was going to make dinner that night, she started her campaign. I couldn't say yes to mac and cheese every time, but I probably did it more than I should have. It was so hard for me to say 'no' to her… and I think she knew it, too…" What was probably meant as a chuckle came out sounding more miserable than humorous.
"She and Sarah were both begging for mac and cheese, so I said I'd make it. Sarah went to sit on the couch with a book. Very typical Sarah. Taylor wanted to hang out with me while I cooked. I don't think there was a time when she didn't hang out with me while I was cooking..." He sighed, his mouth twitching, but he managed to continue. "I picked her up and sat her on the counter, like always, and before I'd even had a chance to fill a pot with water…" He swallowed hard then, and she knew that whatever he was going to say next was what was really hurting him.
"She told me that I was her best friend," he whispered, his voice breaking. "And she just reached out for a hug. She was one of those really affectionate kids, the ones who always want to give people hugs." He paused for a deep breath, his entire body seeming to stiffen. His eyes squeezed shut, which pushed tears out from the corners. "She was so innocent," he said, anger in his voice all of a sudden, "How could I not protect her from something so horrible? From a monster? A monster who was my father…"
His fists were balled tightly at his sides and he was shaking slightly, and anyone else would probably have been afraid to go any closer to him just then. It may well have been dangerous for anyone else to go near him in that state, but Jane stepped forward without a second thought, putting her hands on his arms just above his elbows and gently sliding them down towards his hands, covering his fists with her own until she felt them loosen. There she stood, not sure exactly what to do next. However, she didn't have to wonder for long.
He wasn't sure why he'd pushed himself back against the wall, away from her in the first place. All of his experience over the past few days told him that he was calmer, more at ease, when he was closer to her. And so when he had found himself several feet away from her, he hadn't been able to find a good explanation why. Now, however, he felt her hands on his arms, then taking his hands, and he felt himself begin to relax, despite how tightly wound he was. Still not opening his eyes, he just leaned his head forward until his forehead found her shoulder. Her hands came up to the sides of his face, holding on gently.
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"It's not your fault," he replied quickly, shaking his head against her shoulder.
"I know that," she said, slowly but firmly, leaning slightly towards his ear, since it was besides her face, "but it wasn't yours either. And I'm sorry that you felt like you had to carry the guilt with you for so long. Not because it was my fault, but because I know what it feels like to wish you could undo a decision that wasn't really yours to undo. And for you, that decision was even less yours than mine was mine," she told him softly. "It was never your fault."
He choked out sobs for a few minutes, struggling, but failing, to get control of himself. Reaching forward slowly, he found her waist and pulled her gently towards him. As he stood there, finally beginning to breathe normally again, he could feel calm descending around him just from the sound of her voice.
"It's going to be okay," she told him, and then smiled at the fact that she was telling him the same thing that he'd told her so many times.
"Oh it is, huh?" he asked, finally lifting his head and opening his eyes to look at her, smiling weakly.
"Yeah," she said with a smile. "Someone very wise and very strong keeps telling me that. And I'm finally starting to believe that it might be true."
He chuckled softly, despite the fact that he felt completely drained. It seemed impossible that anything could be funny, and yet somehow she'd made him laugh.
"We've almost made it through a full day here," she said soothingly. "I bet you're looking forward to going home tomorrow, huh?"
"Well, sure," he said, "being here has been… overwhelming. But then again, how often do I have an excuse to hang out with you like this at home?"
A hint of a smile crossed her face. She hadn't wanted to think about going back, because as delighted as she'd been not to be staring at the walls of her safe house for the past few days, she knew that the time away, the time with him, was going to make going back there even harder. As far as the two of them… she hadn't dared to even hope for there to be anything between them when they got back. It had hurt so much to lose their entire connection the first time… She just couldn't think about it.
When she looked away, he watched as something in her face changed. She didn't say anything, and she didn't look back at him, either. It was the first time either of them had mentioned home for quite a while, and he had a feeling he knew where her thoughts were going.
"Okay, so lack of an excuse isn't really an accurate way to describe the situation," he conceded. "Since you've been back… We… I treated you unfairly, Jane, these last few months. When we go back to New York… it's not going to be the same as it was."
She glanced back up at him, attempting to keep her face impassive, attempting not to let herself hope. It was so tempting, though, to think that whatever had been happening between them in the past forty-eight hours didn't have to end. Too tempting.
Putting that out of her mind for the time being, however, she decided to focus on where they were now. After all, it was hard enough going minute to minute in that house full of the ghost of Taylor Shaw without worrying about what would happen when they got home. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen, after all. The only thing she'd accomplish by worrying about it was to be unable to enjoy the time she had with him now.
Nodding and now meeting his eyes with determination, she changed the subject. "So, any thoughts about dinner?" she asked.
He could see what she was doing, but considering how unwaveringly she'd supported him, it seemed like the least he could do to let her steer the conversation away from the topic of going home. He would work on her hesitation on that subject when they got there.
"Do you feel like anything in particular?" he asked her, his arms still wrapped around her gently.
"Why don't we go in there together and take a look?" she suggested, to which he nodded in agreement. She took a step back, leaving space for him to step away from the wall, and then turned slowly, feeling his arms fall from her sides as his right hand found her left, holding on loosely.
Please don't let Sawyer ask him to make macaroni and cheese when we go back in there, she thought silently as he followed her back towards the kitchen. However, when they got there they saw that Sawyer was engrossed in whatever Christmas movie Sarah had put on TV. Sarah, on the other hand, looked up curiously as soon as they entered the room. Her eyes went to Jane's, and they seemed to ask a question. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that she'd noticed her brother's distress before, Jane realized, so she just smiled at Sarah, nodding slightly before walking towards the refrigerator beside Kurt.
Rationally he already knew from experience that he could be literally anywhere in this house and have memories of Taylor, since it had happened just about everywhere so far. Still, he'd stood and hesitated before walking the last few steps towards the refrigerator, looking inside of which had seemed to trigger his most recent memory. Jane was suddenly beside him, slipping her arm gently around his waist and opening the door so they could peer inside together. For this he felt immensely grateful.
"Looks like she bought out the whole grocery store," Jane commented quietly. She was used to the near empty refrigerator in her safe house, and this was a far cry from that. It seemed that Sarah had bought enough food to stock a large family for quite some time, instead of just their little group for a matter of a few days.
"Hey Sarah, have you heard something about a coming apocalypse that we don't know about?" Kurt called to his sister. When she looked up at him blankly, he added, "There's a lot of food in here."
She just shrugged, replying, "It's always good to have choices. And I have a ten year old who tends to eat everything in sight… so I figured it was better to be safe."
Choices… yes, those are good to have, I suppose,Jane thought with a hint of bitterness. So much of what had happened to her had been a result of choices that she had had no part of.
But then again, the voice in her head reasoned, those choices that you didn't make led you here, so… maybe they weren't all bad. That was a hard pill to swallow, knowing what little she knew about her past, but she had to concede that point. She was there, standing close beside Kurt as he peered into the refrigerator. Whatever else Remi or anyone else had done or not done, that was the path that had led her to him.
"Let's see," he was saying, actually looking at the contents of the refrigerator for the first time. He didn't give any clues as to what he was thinking of making, but he was mumbling to himself with what seemed to be approval, so she took that as a good sign. A minute later he stepped back, tugging her along with him, and closed the door to the refrigerator, then opened several of the cupboards, checking their contents as well.
She was glad to see that he appeared pleased with what he'd seen. "So what did you decide on?" she asked him curiously.
"It's a surprise," he told her with a smile, and she couldn't help but think how much happier he looked than he had only a few minutes before.
When she dropped her arm from around his waist he glanced at her, then before he could ask, she told him, "I'm just going to step over here out of the way to let you work. If I can help with anything, great… otherwise I'll just be your cheering section."
"Wow," he replied, looking impressed, "who knew that chefs could have cheerleaders?" Narrowing her eyes at him playfully, she shoved him in the side as she reluctantly stepped away from him, leaning against the section of counter only a few feet away. She worried that what she was doing – hanging out with him while he cooked, leaning against the counter – would be too similar to the way he'd just described Taylor a few minutes before, but even so, she didn't think that it would be beneficial to him if she wandered off to do something else. Up to this point it seemed that while it wasn't a guarantee that he wouldn't retreat into his mind, he seemed to be calmer when he did if she was there. Besides, she wanted to be near him.
I guess I have that in common with Taylor, she thought sadly, forcing a smile onto her face in case he looked over at her.
Kurt pulled out a pot from the lower cabinet… The same one that he'd just seen Taylor sitting above on the counter in his memory... and the same one that Jane was now standing just barely beyond, leaning against the counter and looking at him sadly. However he refused to let the coincidence deter him. Using a measuring cup to put a certain amount of water in the pot, he set it on the stove to heat up. He began to gather his ingredients on the counter, with Jane watching him carefully from a few feet away. By the time he was done, he had a rice, tortillas, salsa, pork, sour cream and avocado. Whatever he was making, she was sure it was going to be good.
While he had learned it mostly as a survival skill as a kid, Kurt had enjoyed cooking for almost as long as he could remember. With his schedule the way it was these days, he didn't get to do very much of it, however, and lately he'd done even less than usual now that Sarah wasn't living with him to keep the refrigerator stocked with actual food. These days, his refrigerator was stocked mainly with takeout containers. Therefore, once he finally got going, he realized just how long it had been since the last time he'd really cooked anything worth mentioning. He'd been so tired the night before when he'd made spaghetti, he hadn't even realized it.
Jane watched quietly, mostly making conversation and occasionally asking questions about what he was making, which, to her frustration, Kurt refused to answer. He'd say one thing for her, she'd definitely learned a lot from observing so many FBI interrogations, because she the questions she asked were well thought out. Sadly for her, Kurt was just really good at keeping information a secret once he'd decided to do so.
His ingredients pointed to dinner being pork tacos, so it wasn't that she couldn't make a reasonable guess about what he was making, it was more that she was disappointed that her interrogation was getting her nowhere. While the rice was cooking and the pork sizzled in a skillet, he walked over to her slowly, watching her face break out into a grin as he got closer.
"It smells really good," she told him as he stopped in front of her. He was still a few inches away, close enough for either of them to easily reach out to the other, and yet they both just stood there, looking into each other's eyes and smiling. Her right arm rested on the counter where she leaned against it, and he put his left hand down gently on top of her hand.
"Thanks," he said with a smile, his face close to hers. "It's almost ready."
He'd seemed untroubled for the past twenty minutes, as she had been as well, and even though she knew that it wouldn't last, it had been a relief. Any minute where neither of them was bothered by anything seemed like a gift, at that point.
The only thing she was conscious of was the fact that his thumb was moving slowly back and forth against her hand, and he was looking at her with an intensity that made her both smile and look away. Just then, of course, the timer beeped, and he looked over at the food. With an apologetic smile he reluctantly withdrew his hand from hers, turning to silence the timer and stir the meat once more.
While he suddenly seemed much too far away, she couldn't help but feel the glow of his proximity remain even after he'd stepped away from her. Whatever this was between them – and she still didn't know what it was – they seemed to be in silent agreement about the speed with which it should unfold – as close to glacial as possible. Most people probably would have been frustrated, but as far as she was concerned, it was perfect. After all, they'd taken a huge jump forward at first, and their minds needed to catch up.
Before she realized that she'd been lost in thought, he was in front of her again. "It's ready," he declared with a smile.
"Let me set the table," she offered, realizing too late that she could easily have done that before and made herself useful. When she walked around him to the silverware drawer and took out enough for the four of them, he just chuckled and shook his head, surprised that she'd moved away so quickly. While she did that, he took out three bottles of beer for the adults and a glass for Sawyer's milk, removing the tops from the bottles and filling the glass.
Just them, Sarah wandered over to the kitchen. "Something smells really good over here," she said with interest.
"Movie over?" Kurt asked over his shoulder as he dished the food onto serving plates.
"Yep," Sarah replied, "and it looks like the timing was perfect." Then, turning to Sawyer, who appeared to be half asleep on the couch, she called, "Sawyer, go wash your hands for dinner." A moment later, a sleepy looking ten year old lumbered by them to the bathroom without a word.
"He's going to sleep well tonight," Sarah chuckled, following him to the bathroom to wash her own hands. Jane and Kurt both smiled in the direction of Sarah's departing back, then looked back at each other. She wished that they weren't about to eat, because she really just wanted to curl up by the fireplace with him, but she was also very interested to taste his cooking.
They put the food and the plates down on the table, and the other two Wellers returned. Once they were all seated, Kurt cleared his throat and said, "Well, I know this isn't a traditional Christmas dinner, but… well, it hasn't been much of a normal year, either. So this year it's Tex Mex Pork Tacos, and I hope you all enjoy it."
He noticed that Sarah was beaming at him, the look in her eyes telling him that she was about to say something emotional – which she was.
"And since we're all here, I just wanted to say…" She looked around at the three pairs of eyes watching her at the table with a watery smile, and continued. "…that I'm really glad that we could do this, here, one more time." Her eyes fell on Kurt and her smile faltered as she said, "I know it's not the easiest place to be…" Before she continued, her eyes went to Jane. "But I'm grateful that we're all here." Glancing at her son before her eyes swept around the table again, she added, "It's been a hell of a year for all of us, and… I hope that next year will be the one where we all find peace."
"I'll drink to that!" Kurt said, raising his beer in the air. The other three quickly followed suit, clinking their drinks together. Without even thinking about it, he and Jane leaned closer to each other, their forearms touching as they leaned against the table.
Sarah had watched the two of them scoot their chairs closer together when they had first sat down, and she had a feeling that they weren't even aware that they'd done it. The inside edges of their chairs were now pressed together, as close as they could get, and the occupants of the chairs weren't much farther apart. It really was a beautiful thing to see – Kurt so happy after he'd been through so much.
They wasted no time in passing around the food and putting together their tacos, and the conversation flowed easily. It may not have seemed like Christmas, since it was unlike any Christmas the Wellers had ever had, and the food wasn't at all traditional, but it did remind Kurt of the days when Sarah and Sawyer had lived with him in New York. Of course, it was even better than those days, because now Jane was there as well. He hadn't even known back then what he'd been missing, or how much happier he could be.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, sitting on his left, and caught her pressing the round pendant of the necklace between the fingers of her left hand. He couldn't decide whether or not it was an unconscious gesture, but it made him smile either way. Seeing the necklace again reminded him what an emotional day it had been for both of them, not just him. Her right hand rested on the table in between bites, and he took the opportunity to brush the back of it with the back of his left hand, casually but very much on purpose.
When she felt his hand brush against hers, she glanced up at him shyly, figuring that the touch hadn't been an accident. She still had the pendant on her necklace pressed between her fingers, and his hand brushing against hers only accentuated the glow of happiness that she was already feeling. This moment was so much more than she'd allowed herself to hope for ever since things had gone so terribly wrong between them, and she felt, not for the first time, like she was living inside a dream. This moment was so perfect, she refused to think either about the past, or any farther ahead. After all, her past was so painfully complicated, and she knew all too well that the future was uncertain.
They finished eating and Sarah cleared away the plates, proclaiming that she had dessert "under control," and that everyone else should stay seated. She got no arguments from the other three. Everyone was in a good mood, and it seemed that the glow of giddy happiness that was coming from Jane and Kurt was affecting herself and her son, as well. Or maybe it was just that it was Christmas, and the snow looked so picturesque as it fell outside the window… whatever it was, Sarah couldn't remember a time when they'd all been so happy. If there had been another one, it had been a long, long time ago.
As they sat and waited for dessert, Jane felt Kurt drape his arm across the back of her chair, shifting his weight even closer to her than it had already been. They'd now been in Clearfield for twenty-four hours, just barely. It had been forty-eight hours since the FBI holiday party had started, but not yet since it had finished. It all seemed impossible, because despite what her memories told her, she felt as though she had always felt the way she did at that moment – the glow of happiness, the security of not being alone. She knew their opposites all too well, and yet… it felt like a long time ago since she hadn't felt exactly the way she felt just then.
So why, then, was there a nagging feeling at the back of her mind? One she'd been pushing away all weekend, but the whispers of which kept pushing their way forward in her mind ever so slightly. This isn't yours, it tried to tell her. She didn't know why, but she got the feeling that it was a shadow of Remi, of her former self, trying to emerge. Combine that with a feeling that all this was too good to be true… No, she was not going to allow those thoughts to even enter her mind. Not now, when things were so perfect, and hopefully not ever. She knew that it would be more useful to deal with them, but this was not the time for that.
The look on her face when she glanced over at him as he'd draped his arm behind her chair warmed his heart. He could tell from looking at her that at that moment, she was just as happy as he was. It was a relief that their thoughts had allowed them this moment of peace. After all, they were still here in his childhood house, and he had no allusions about whether he'd seen the last of Taylor. As much as the memories hurt him, the thought of not remembering her felt worse, so he couldn't bring himself to wish for them to stop… He was, however, happy that just then, he was only thinking about Jane.
Sarah had not made dessert herself, she'd simply bought the components, and a few minutes later she proudly placed small, individually constructed Strawberry Shortcakes in front of each of them. She emphasized that she'd bought everything and just threw them together – which gave Kurt more confidence in how it would taste, despite her other successes in the kitchen so far this weekend – but they still ooohhhed and aaahhhed over the presentation before quickly digging in.
Jane couldn't help but notice that Kurt's arm remained stretched out along the back of her chair, leaning gently but steadily against the middle of her back, throughout dessert. The shortcakes were delicious, just as dinner had been, and now with Kurt's arm behind her… she hadn't thought it possible for this evening to feel even more like a dream, and yet… it did.
"Mom, can we watch Rudolph again, so Jane can see it?" Sawyer asked.
"I don't know if she's up for it, buddy." Everyone around the table looked sleepy, Jane included, and Sarah looked at the other woman curiously. "Think you can stay awake long enough? It's a short movie… I think it's about an hour," Sarah told her. "Up to you. Sawyer's seen it a million times."
"I'll give it a try," Jane replied, trying very hard not to yawn then and there. "I guess I was too comfortable last time." She eyed Kurt accusingly, a playful smile on her face, and he just grinned in return.
"You guys go set it up," Sarah told them, waving them toward the family room. "I've got the dishes."
"Are you sure?" Jane asked, feeling guilty for leaving her with the cleanup.
"I'm sure," Sarah said emphatically. "Kurt did all the cooking, and I want you two over there together, relaxing," she grinned, adding, "Think of it as a Christmas present, since I so unfortunately had nothing to give you. Especially after you gave me the gift of making Kurt so happy."
Jane felt herself blushing a deep red then, not knowing what to say to such a significant compliment. She smiled hard, looking away, then back at Sarah self-consciously. "Oh wow, Sarah, I…" She glanced at Kurt, who was smiling in agreement, perhaps just a little bit of embarrassment showing on his face as well, then back at Sarah. Jane bit her lip, more overcome by what Sarah had said the more it sank into her brain.
"I'm serious," Sarah said, "now get out of here. I'll join you guys when I'm done. I've seen this move a million times, too." She shooed them out of the kitchen with a smile.
Sawyer had already scampered off towards the TV to switch out the tapes in the VCR, and Jane and Kurt stood up slowly to follow him. Even though she knew they were going to settle down to watch the movie side by side, she almost hated to stand up from the table and lose the sensation of his arms across her back. Before they'd taken more than a few steps toward the family room, the back of his left hand brushed the back of her right once again, his index finger locking gently around hers, without the company of the other fingers. It was such an innocent gesture, and in a way that made her love it even more.
Without hesitation, they headed for their favorite spot in front of the fireplace. Jane sat down, while Kurt stopped to get another log to put on the fire, then came to join her. Since she'd said she wanted to stay awake long enough to watch the movie this time, he didn't try to get her to lay her head in his lap, which would have significantly increased the likelihood that she would fall asleep. Instead, once again sitting on her right, on the side farther from the fireplace, he leaned towards her, anchoring himself by putting his hand down behind her, but on her left side, and then simply leaning close to her.
She'd sat perfectly still when he sat down next to her, waiting to see where he would settle himself. When he moved in her direction, she felt butterflies swirling in her stomach.
Don't be silly, she told herself. It's not the first time you'd been this close… not even close to the first time. And yet, it didn't stop the slightly giddy feeling she got inside her. Smiling shyly, she tucked her feet behind her on her left side and leaned towards him in return, dropping her head gently against his shoulder. He wasn't even actually holding onto her, but it was perfect. She did her best to concentrate on Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, immediately empathizing with the poor animal that no one wanted to play with.
Poor thing, she thought sadly, I know what that's like. Still, underneath her connection with the fictional reindeer she felt at peace. After all, this was just about the most perfect day she could remember, despite all of the bumps along the way. If anything, after the ups and downs of the day, she felt even closer to Kurt than she knew she would have if everything had gone smoothly. While she wouldn't have wished for so many things to have upset them, she tried to see the good that had come from it. After all, like so many other things, she couldn't change the recent past any more than she could change the more serious things that had happened in the less recent past.
The movie was almost over when it occurred to Jane to wonder, out of nowhere, if Kurt had ever watched that particular movie with Taylor. If the others were to be believed, it was a classic, and would have been something he'd seen many times as a child. And if he'd seen it with Taylor… She wondered if there was another flashback coming.
And just like that, she felt him tense slightly beside her, though if she hadn't been paying attention, or if she hadn't just wondered about whether the movie would trigger a flashback for him, she may not have noticed. Lifting her head from his shoulder and glancing at him without a word, she saw an anguished look on his face as he stared toward the screen ahead of him, no longer seeming to focus on it. She moved herself closer to him, laying her right hand on his left knee, which sat in front of her.
He wasn't sure how he'd managed to forget that he'd sat on that couch with Taylor and watched this same movie more than once every single year around Christmas time. Granted, every single year of a five year old's life wasn't many, and the year that she was an infant wasn't included, but… that still left more than a few times when he'd watched the movie with her. He remembered the last time the best, when she'd really seemed to understand what was going on, and how mean the other reindeer were being to Rudolph.
Why are they so mean to him? Taylor had asked, turning to look at him with her green eyes wide in innocent confusion.
I don't know, Kurt had replied, trying to simplify the problem to a five year old level but not coming up with a good answer right away. Sometimes when someone is different, they make other people nervous.
But they're not people, Taylor had pointed out, they're reindeer.
He'd smiled at her observation, then nodded at her patiently. Nope, you're right. But reindeer can't really talk, can they?
She thought about it for a minute, then shook her head. No. So… they're just acting like people?
Exactly, he'd told her. And some people can be mean to other people when they are uncomfortable, or when they don't understand something. Or sometimes, when they're scared.
But… didn't their moms teach them to be nice? she asked, seemingly unable to let the topic rest until she understood why the reindeer were being mean to Rudolph.
Maybe not, he said with a smile, or maybe they just haven't grown up enough to understand that what they're doing isn't nice.
Well, I'm grown up enough to understand, she'd said proudly, sitting up as straight as she could to make herself taller and looking at him somberly over her shoulder for approval.
You sure are, he said seriously. I'm so proud of you.
Her entire face had broken into a smile then, and she had turned and launched herself towards him in a hug so fierce, he swore he felt it even now, back in the present, sitting beside Jane. The memory faded then, and he felt his surroundings fading back in around him.
The credits had just started rolling, and Sarah stood up and stretched. "The great thing about VHS movies," she said with a yawn, "is that the kid can't beg to watch the Special Features. Because back then there were no Special Features."
"You guys had it rough, huh?" Sawyer teased her as she poked at him mercilessly until he broke out laughing. Sarah stuck her tongue out at him, which only made Sawyer laugh harder.
Turning to Kurt, she asked, "Are you guys still planning on leaving in the morning?" Managing to recover enough to answer her question, he glanced at the window. In the dim porch light just outside the window, he could vaguely see fat snowflakes still falling.
"Well, that was the plan…" he began, forcing himself to push aside the memory of Taylor, at least until he could escape from Sarah's attentive gaze. "However, I think it's understandable that we're not going to want to risk getting stuck on the side of the road in another storm."
Sarah nodded in understanding. "So, we'll take a look at the weather in the morning and play it by ear?"
Hesitating, Kurt seemed to need a few seconds longer to process her question. "Sounds good," he replied. His voice was dull and he sounded… distracted, Sarah decided. While she was concerned about him, she was pretty confident that Jane would be able to get to the bottom of things better than she would herself.
"Alright, well, I'm going to turn in early. That fresh air really took it out of me," she said to Jane and Kurt as she turned to poke Sawyer again. "Come on mister, let's go upstairs and let Jane and Uncle Kurt have some peace. I might even let you watch TV in my room for a while." Sawyer had been looking dubious about being ordered upstairs so early – it was only just after 8:00, after all, and he was on vacation – but he perked right up at the mention of watching TV in his mom'sroom. There were more channels on that TV, and it was bigger, after all.
Kurt wanted to tell Sarah that they didn't have to clear out on their account, but the truth was, the quiet time with Jane sounded nice. The day had taken a lot out of him, and he wasn't even sure he wouldn't end up going to bed early, as well. Once they had said their good nights and Sarah and Sawyer disappeared up the stairs, Jane turned to Kurt and looked into his eyes, wondering if he would want to talk about whatever it had been this time.
Her hand was still on his knee, he noticed, and he looked down at it as he started talking. "I don't know how I didn't think about it earlier," he said, "or why I didn't realize that the movie was bound to remind me…" He felt her squeeze his knee and took a deep breath. "I'd watched that movie at least a couple times a year with her since she was two, I think… sitting on the couch, where Sarah was sitting…" Jane glanced up at the couch, and then back to Kurt. "That's where I saw us this time. It was the last time I watched it with her, before…"
He had meant to end that sentence exactly one word earlier and spare himself a tiny bit of anguish, but it had just slipped out. However, he pushed past it.
"She asked me why the other reindeer were being mean to Rudolph," he said quietly, shaking his head. "That's not an easy thing to explain to a five year old, but I tried. I said that they were acting the way people act, that people who are scared or uncomfortable are sometimes mean to other people." Jane nodded silently, moving her hand slightly on his knee and leaning closer to him. He made a sound that was supposed to be a chuckle then, but came out as a more miserable sounding version as he said, "Then she asked, 'didn't their moms teach them to be nice?'"
Jane smiled sadly right along with Kurt then. By this point, she felt like she knew this version of the girl that she had formerly thought herself to be. The version that Kurt talked about seeing in his vivid flashbacks, somehow, seemed like a separate Taylor Shaw than the one she'd thought that she was, that she felt so connected to – maybe because she'd only just heard these stories now, after so much time had passed since she'd learned the truth.
"I told her, 'Maybe not, or maybe they're just not grown up enough to know that what they're doing isn't nice.' So of course, she told me that she was grown up enough to know better, and I certainly couldn't argue with her there." Kurt turned to face Jane, so that he was sitting perpendicular to her. Beyond her he could see the fireplace, which was on her left side. He put his left hand on top of her right one, which was still on his knee. "I told her that I knew that she was grown up enough to know better, and that I was proud of her," he said in a whisper, still not looking up at her.
Jane watched him sadly, blinking hard and feeling tears in her own eyes. She turned slowly so that she was sitting across from him, reaching her left hand up and resting it against his cheek. It had barely been there for half a second when she felt him lean into her touch, and his eyes closed as he inhaled slowly.
"It's been a long day," she said quietly. "Maybe we should try to get some sleep." Even though she was a little bit uneasy about the sleeping situation, since they had basically agreed that morning, after half a night of nightmares for each of them, that they wouldn't attempt to go to bed separately again, she figured that even a slight awkwardness between them would be preferable to allowing him to keep remembering more and more things that weighed so heavily on his mind. He wanted to remember, she knew, but she also knew that just what a toll it was taking on him.
He opened his eyes then and looked up at her, still leaning into her palm, and the look in his eyes took her breath away for a second. She had thought a long time ago that she would never again see that look from him, that mixture of intense feelings that she could see in his eyes just then, the look that told her just how important she was to him.
Without moving his face out of her palm, he nodded without a word, then put his right hand up to cover her hand, slowly moving it off of his cheek and intertwining their fingers together. Before letting their hands fall from beside his face, he moved them closer instead, carefully planting a gentle kiss just between the joints on her middle finger.
It was as though every time she thought she couldn't feel more for him, suddenly she did.
She managed to get to her feet first this time, and she helped him to his feet with a tug on the hand that was still holding tightly to hers. "You okay?" she asked, even though she knew it was a ridiculous question. After everything, how could he be okay? How could she, either, for that matter?
And yet, when she asked him that, he was able to nod yes honestly, because somehow, he was okay. "Let me just put out the fire," he said tiredly, letting go of her hand so that he could quickly ensure that the fire in the fireplace was taken care of. Once that was done, he walked back over to her and draped his arm over her shoulders without a word, her arm winding around his back as well, and they walked toward the steps slowly together.
It had not been an easy Christmas Day, to be sure, but it had brought them closer together, and forced them to deal with some of their most important unresolved issues. As Jane leaned her head against his shoulder once again, he knew that no matter how many times in his life he had been in the wrong place, he was in the right place now.