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: I realize that this story is called "December," and it's now February. And my good friend MonkeyPajamas pointed out that in the story it's still December 26 (meaning that most of it has taken place over only 4 days). I'm not really sure how far this story is going to go, only that it won't go past December 31… Of course at my pace, that means there could still be many, many chapters to go. We'll see. Jane and Kurt are the ones in charge here.
Sarah slowed as she approached the doorway of the kitchen. Not that she expected them to be doing anything inappropriate, but she was fairly sure that her brother and Jane would certainly be doing something quite adorable, and she hated to disturb them. Her assumption was proven correct a minute later when she found them reluctantly moving their chairs apart so that they could stand up. Pausing for a second before entering the kitchen, she smiled at the shy way they seemed to gravitate back together only seconds later, standing up and then moving toward each other even before their chairs were pushed in all the way, as if a magnetic force was pulling them towards each other.
Wanting them to know that she was there so they didn't feel like she'd snuck up on them, and knowing that they were distracted, she made a slightly exaggerated entrance into the room behind them. She made her footsteps a little heavier than they needed to be, and her voice a little louder as she called, "Hey, guys," adding in a normal tone, "How's everything down here?"
She'd literally just watched them move apart, stand up and then glue themselves back to each other's sides, Kurt's arm across Jane's shoulders and her arm around his lower back. As if they'd practiced it, they turned their heads toward each other, looking back at her over their respective shoulders, both smiling happily.
"Okay, wow, that was seriously impressive," she told them, shaking her head and laughing.
"Hey, mom! Can we play a game?" Sawyer called from the couch.
"He's alive!" Sarah called, glancing past the pair in front of her to where her son still lay under the same blanket on the couch, not having moved in who knew how long.
"Haha," Sawyer said, making a face at her and then, for his uncle's benefit, rolling his eyes with a grin. "Can we? And Jane and Uncle Kurt can play, too."
Kurt felt Jane tense just a little beside him. She'd been to his apartment for a game night, once, a long time ago… back at a time that she didn't like to remember. She didn't have experience with many games, and while she knew that she could always learn, she felt a prickle of the all too familiar feeling, the one that she was slowly feeling less and less… the feeling that everyone knew so many things that she didn't.
"Don't worry," Kurt suddenly whispered in her ear, leaning his scruffy cheek against hers, "You can be on my team. Whichever game it is. It's a good excuse to sit close together, so no one sees our cards." She felt the butterflies in her stomach take flight and fly quickly in formation, and yet in a thousand different directions at once.
"What if it's a game with no cards?" she whispered back. She already knew for a fact that not all games used cards, after all, though she could only think of one example.
"I don't care," he replied quietly. "It was just an excuse anyway." His eyebrows rose and fell playfully as he leaned back just enough to look at her, and she chuckled as she just shook her head at him.
"Okay you two, we see you whispering over there. Wait to make your winning strategy at least until we've decided what game to play," Sarah told them teasingly.
Sawyer was watching them too, and he exchanged a look with his mother with was far less amused than she was, rolling his eyes in thinly veiled disgust – which Jane and his Uncle Kurt found to be extremely amusing, from the faces they were making. Attempting to ignore the adults' obnoxious behavior, Sawyer got down to the important issue. "What games are there here, anyway?" he asked.
Kurt and Sarah looked at each other questioningly. "Don't look at me," Kurt told her. "I wouldn't know what games there are, where they are, or when the last time they were played was…" Because I haven't been here in more than twice as long as Sawyer's been alive, he thought, but he left that part unsaid. Sarah already knew that, of course.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know…" Sarah replied, shaking her head at him. "They were in the garage – which I have to say, I'd forgotten how much of a pain a detached garage is in the winter – when we got here, but thankfully I brought them inside before the snow got crazy," she said, walking to the hall closet and looking up on the shelf at the top. Reaching up, she pulled down a stack of boxes and walked back into the kitchen.
"So we have Monopoly, Candy Land, Checkers, Scrabble and… Oh! A puzzle with 500 pieces," she said, holding up a box that showed a picture of an intricately drawn black and white abstract design. Jane stared at it with interest. It almost reminded her of her tattoos.
Kurt's hand left her shoulder and moved towards the base of her neck where it stopped, his thumb brushing against the spot where he knew that the oil derrick tattoo protruded visibly. She wasn't sure if he'd done it as a direct reaction to the design on the puzzle, but he was obviously thinking the same thing that she was. This made her smile, as she felt sparks start at the spot his thumb had just been, radiating outward from there. After a few swipes, his hand stilled in that very spot.
Sawyer considered the choice carefully, then looked up at his mother with hope in his eyes. "Can we play Monopoly, mom? Please?" Jane watched in amusement as Sarah rolled her eyes, shaking her head slowly.
"I knew I should have left this one in the garage," she said, shaking her head.
"Please, mom? I promise not to be an… what did you say I was being last time?" Sawyer asked.
Both Jane and Kurt watched this exchange in amusement. Clearly, something had happened the last time they'd played this game.
"I believe I told you that you were an over-competitive adversary," Sarah replied with a smile, knowing that her audience was enjoying this exchange.
"Mom, I promise, I won't be such a…" he looked as if he was trying to rewind his thoughts to what she'd just told him, but without success. "I'll be nice and calm," he said when he couldn't find the words. "Please?"
Sarah sighed heavily, as if she knew that she would regret saying yes, but at the same time, wanting to acquiesce. "Fine," she sighed dramatically. "For one hour, max. Whatever is going on after one hour, we stop."
Sawyer grinned from ear to ear, whereas Sarah looked visible wary. "Monopoly has become his favorite lately," Sarah said, turning to Jane and Kurt. "He gets a little… intense…"
Kurt looked at Sawyer seriously, narrowing his eyes at him as if he was getting ready to interrogate him. "Good," he said, "it'll be even more satisfying when I beat him."
"Oh, boy," Sarah groaned, shaking her head. "So you're where he gets this from?"
"You're going to play, right mom?" Sawyer asked, looking at Sarah with concern.
Sighing again, Sarah nodded. "Yes, I'm going to play." Her tone suggested that she might be slightly less than excited about playing, however.
"Jane, what about you?" Sawyer asked. He seemed to be doing his best wide-eyed silent pleading as he looked up at her.
"Uh, yeah, of course," she replied, feeling slightly on the spot.
"Jane's never played before, so she's going to be on my team this time," Kurt added, once again moving his finger across the oil derrick tattoo, which made her smile as she tried her best not to shiver. She knew she was blushing again, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Sawyer looked at the two of them suspiciously, pausing for a minute before he nodded. "Okay, but as long as I'm around, no kissing."
Kurt was the only one of the three adults to keep a straight face, as both Jane and Sarah either bit their lip or covered their mouth in order to hold in their laughter. Nodding seriously at his nephew, Kurt said only, "Agreed."
As they turned to walk toward the family room, Jane leaned her cheek close to his so that she could whisper, "That's not a regular rule in Monopoly, is it?"
He grinned back at her, moving his face down beside her ear, and replied, "Not that I've ever heard… We'll have to check the rules." Before straightening up again, he brushed his cheek just enough against hers for his scruff to scratch lightly against her skin.
Even just that one movement was enough to renew the smile on her face. This can't be real, she thought to herself for the thousandth time.
They settled themselves on the floor, Jane and Kurt just automatically sitting down with their backs to the fireplace once again. Sawyer was very serious as he set up the game board and handed out the money that they each started with.
"The great thing about this game," Kurt whispered in Jane's ear, "is that I don't have to put the bad guys in jail."
Jane looked down at the board and saw the corner space labeled Jail, then whispered back, "So how do people end up there?"
"Well… it's sort of random, actually," he said, and noticed the look of surprise on Jane's face.
You randomly end up in jail? That seemed to her like a strange idea.
After thinking about it for a few seconds, she smiled and looked at him knowingly, leaning over to whisper, "But deep down you sort of wish you were in charge of catching the bad guys and putting them in jail in this game, right?"
"Well, there aren't really any bad guys…" he replied near her ear, but she could tell from his tone that she was right.
"Uh-huh," she said, and he could tell that she was just humoring him. "Whatever you say," she added. He chuckled at her, turning to face her and leaning back slightly to look at her in amazement.
Of course I sort of wish I could put the bad guys of Monopoly-land in jail. If there were any.
And then just like that, it hit him, out of nowhere and all of a sudden. It was as if everything around them froze and his vision tunneled into only what he could see in front of him – which was not Jane, to his surprise, but instead, a fuzzy, black and white image from long ago. No, not just an image, because she was moving just as if she was alive and if he hadn't already known what his brain was doing, he would have sworn that she was real – despite not being in full color.
Yes, there beside him as he stared down at her he saw Taylor once again, five years old and bursting with excitement, to the point that she couldn't sit still. She'd been begging Kurt and Sarah to teach her to play Monopoly, and they'd finally agreed. She'd plopped herself down beside Kurt, leaning against his side in a way not so dissimilarly to the way Jane was at that moment.
What do we do first, Kurt? she asked him, leaning her cheek against his arm.
Well, he told her patiently, smiling at her infectious enthusiasm. First Sarah is going to give out the money. He remembered that even from their childhood, Sarah liked to be in charge of the money as well as the properties. Basically, any chance she got to have power over her big brother.
Can I roll the die? Taylor asked, looking up at him with those big eyes of hers. He never had been able to say no to her… not unless it was absolutely necessary – and even then, it was incredibly difficult.
Of course you can, Taylor, just wait a minute. We're almost ready. He saw himself put his arm around her shoulders and squeeze her in a half hug, in an attempt to get her to sit still long enough for them to set up. His arm dropped from her shoulders then, and he had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. No, not sinking, plunging.
I should have held onto her, he thought, despite the fact that he knew that this didn't make sense. Forcing himself to look at the little girl who sat beside him in his imagination, he smiled sadly.
And this was where everything suddenly became different from the flashbacks he'd had of Taylor up to this point. Everything else had just been memories. Suddenly, she was looking at him now. He could just feel it.
I'm sorry, kid, he told her sadly. I should've protected you. Despite the fact that she'd been bubbling with excitement only a few seconds before, he saw that she was now looking into his eyes calmly, sitting perfectly still.
This was not a memory. He'd had no reason to say those words to her back when she was alive. This was him actually talking to her now, even though it was impossible. Even though he knew she wasn't really there.
Don't be sad, she told him. It wasn't your fault. Her eyes were every bit as… as Taylor as he remembered them, and just as full of love for him as they'd always been. That may have been what made it hurt even more. Through all those twenty five years since she'd been gone, he'd felt that he should have done more… something more. That somehow he could have saved her. How could he possibly deserve for her to be looking up at him the same way she had back when she'd been alive? Back when he'd actually taken care of her and kept her safe?
Looking in her eyes – even knowing that she wasn't really there and therefore couldn't really be looking at him like anything, he saw one thing he'd never seen there before – a seriousness and an understanding that Taylor had never had. She'd simply been too young.
But… it… I could've… I should never have… He… All of the words with which he'd been beating himself for all those years attempted to come out at the same time, suddenly jumbled together and preventing him from forming a coherent thought.
But Taylor just shook her head and smiled at him sadly. I know how much you loved me, she told him, and he was fairly sure that his heart was going to break then and there.
I did, he said softly, I still do.
Taylor just nodded. I know, she said, and I loved you more than anyone in the world... well, except my mom. She smiled at that thought, then continued. I've been watching you. You've done so much good for some many people… but Kurt, you never had anything to make up for – I know that's why you did all the things you did along the way.
He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head and continued before he had a chance.
It's time to let it all go, she told him.
His face must have reflected panic immediately, because her expression changed quickly then, as she saw that he had misunderstood her.
No, no, not everything, not all of the memories, only the parts that hurt, she said soothingly. I'm not telling you not to remember me at all. But you have to let the rest of it go, because more than anyone else in the world, you deserve to be happy. I don't want you to remember me and be sad. Not anymore. You've already put yourself through so much… And you never deserved any of it. But it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay.
He felt himself shaking his head, and he didn't know if his action was real or if he was still stuck inside the vision. From somewhere that sounded very far away, he heard a familiar voice. Not Taylor's.
Jane's.
He couldn't make out the words, but the voice was soothing, and the fact that it was Jane eased his thoughts a little. Just as the tight feeling in his chest relaxed a tiny bit, he was Taylor smile knowingly, and he somehow felt that the two events had to be connected. And though Jane's proximity helped him relax, he was still focused on Taylor.
Probably because this time was so different, because it had turned into a conversation, and not just a memory, he felt a finality to it that scared him. Even though he knew that he wasn't really talking to Taylor Shaw, his best friend who'd died twenty five years ago, still, the conversation was something that he'd been needing for a very long time… and because of that, he want it to end. After all, he might never get to have another one.
He looked back at Taylor, feeling desperation creeping over him. She was still beside him, but standing now, not too much taller than he was, even though she was at her full height and he was sitting on the floor. The little girl who wasn't really there smiled at him sadly once again, hesitated, and then almost without warning, threw her arms around his shoulders in a hug so tight, he would have sworn that she was not a figment of his imagination… even though he knew with absolute certainty that she was not there.
How can it be both at once? he wondered as he held onto her as tightly as he'd ever held onto anyone in his life – possibly tighter, even.
I love you, Kurt, she said, and then she whispered something that didn't really make sense to him. He just barely heard her, he was so choked up on his own emotions, and her last few words came out so softly… but he swore she said something that sounded like, And she does, too. He didn't understand that part, but he pushed it to back of his mind for the time being.
There was a burning sensation in his chest, one that he suspected was a mixture of extreme happiness and complete and utter sadness. He tried to hold onto her as tightly as he could – the way he felt as though he should have all those years ago, never letting her go, never letting anything bad happen to her. Unfortunately, of course, since she wasn't really there, he couldn't actually hold onto her.
Despite feeling like his arms were clamped around her, he watched the little girl, the ghost of Taylor, or the manifestation of her in his mind – however he wanted to explain her – step back and drop her arms to her sides. She smiled at him again, that same adoring smile that she had always had on her face when she'd looked up at him, and in that second he swore that his mind flashed back to every time she'd looked at him that way – and there were thousands, if not more– each in rapid fire succession, none of the images remaining for more than a millisecond. The images ran together in a parade of those five years of his life, in reality only taking seconds.
I'm losing my mind, he thought. And yet… I don't want it to end.
Suddenly, the black and white tunnel began fading from his field of vision, and Taylor with it.
Taylor, stay, he told her frantically, knowing that it was impossible, because she wasn't actually there, and yet at the same time knowing that he couldn't let her go. Not again. He'd already lost her once, in the most horrible way, and he'd been broken by it all his life. The pieces had gone back together, but they'd never been quite right. Then he'd lost her again, after thinking that he'd found her, and in some ways that had been worse. How could he now lose her a third time? No, he just couldn't. It was too painful.
I'm not going anywhere, she told him, staring into his eyes calmly once again, taking a slow step back from him, and then another. I never left you, and I'm not going to.
But… he said – thought he said. He couldn't tell where the line was between reality and whatever was going on inside his head.
Sssshhhh, she told him. It's going to be okay. I'm still here. And you have Jane. I've seen the way she looks at you… you've both been through hell, separately and together. But you have each other. You need each other. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of me…
Oh course, Kurt had thought this more than once, but it seemed disloyal to Taylor somehow to tell her this.
Suddenly it was as though she was reading his mind, because she shook her head and looked at him fondly. It's fine, Kurt. It means you were thinking of me.
He felt himself panic as she took yet another step back, getting farther and farther away.
Now listen to me one more time, Kurt Weller, she said, now from across the family room. Somehow, her eyes held his locked on her despite the distance, and he could hear her loud and clear, even though she was whispering. You did not fail me. You need to stop telling yourself that. You were the best thing in my life, for my whole life. Some people live eighty years or more and don't have anyone love them that much. I was lucky to have you. She paused for a few seconds, and he continued to watch her, unable to look away. And now, she continued simply, Jane is. Just don't let the past get in the way of that. Promise me.
I promise, he whispered, realizing suddenly that there were tears falling down his cheeks. He didn't care, simply let them fall, in part because he had no energy left to lift his hand to wipe them away.
Taylor smiled at him again, not the sad smile, but the one he'd loved so much, the one that had been the reason that he'd never been able to say no to her.
I'm always here, she said quietly, and yet her words once again rang loudly in his ears. Right there. He felt his chest ache, and he knew without having to wonder what the 'there' she was referring to must be. It made sense that she would be in his heart. She always had been, after all.
As he stared at her, he watched her begin to fade before his eyes until she simply disappeared. This time, instead of panicking, he felt an unfamiliar sense of calm, as if some sort of weight had been lifted off of him. In reality, he supposed that one had.
Blinking, he saw the black and white surroundings of his dream fade and suddenly he was back in the present, still in exactly the same spot, but now once again sitting on the floor beside Jane with the fire crackling behind them. Sarah and Sawyer, who'd been sitting across the board from him on two of the remaining three sides, were nowhere to be seen.
He felt Jane's right hand on his back, moving in circles and her left, he noticed when he looked down, was gripping his left hand tightly. Looking over at her, he saw a worried expression on her face, which relaxed slightly when his eyes met hers.
Finally, she thought as she smiled up at him in relief. She'd been starting to worry. His memories of Taylor had never lasted that long before, nor had he ever looked so distraught by then.
He was slightly dismayed, but not surprised, to find that the tears he'd felt on his cheeks a few minutes ago hadn't been a figment of his imagination, and he swatted at them with his right hand.
Jane was watching him carefully, wishing there was something she could do. By this point, however, she'd seen him go through enough memories of Taylor that she knew that she was doing all she could do. Still, this time it felt different, and she wondered what he'd seen.
"I talked to her," he said quietly, looking down at his lap. "It was a memory at first, but then… it changed. It was a conversation, as if she was sitting where you are. She was still five, but it wasn't twenty-five years ago. It was now."
Nodding silently, Jane simply continued doing exactly what she'd been doing that whole time. So this time Taylor took my place. That seems fair. The thought was just a little uncomfortable to her, guilt creeping into the corners of her mind. After all, she'd actively tried to take Taylor's place in his life in order to trick him, to advance a terrorist organization's agenda, and had caused him immeasurable pain by doing it.
That was not you, she told herself yet again. That was Remi, and you know it. And this is not about you right now.
Jane snapped herself back to the present as Kurt continued talking.
"She said…" his voice was already shaking, and he took a deep breath. "I told her that I was sorry, and she said that it wasn't my fault."
"Because it wasn't," Jane murmured emphatically in agreement.
He almost smiled then, and continued tiredly. Somehow it seemed fitting that Jane would agree with Taylor. "She said that she loved me – more than anyone except her mom – and that she knew that I loved her."
As he remembered the conversation then, Taylor's words suddenly made sense to him. And she does, too.
"She" was Jane. Of course she was. Taylor had been saying 'She loves you, too.'
"And that I never…" Stopping mid-sentence once again when words failed him temporarily, he felt her squeeze his hand. He inhaled sharply, and his voice dropped to a whisper as he continued. The emotion threatened to overcome him, but he was determined to get the words out. "…that I never had anything to make up for."
Of course, this had always been obvious to everyone except Kurt, and Jane smiled sadly, leaning her cheek against his arm. "Of course you didn't," she whispered gently. After a pause, she asked, "Did she say anything else?"
He nodded, still not looking up. "She said that I… I needed to let go of the parts of the memories that hurt. And that I was going to be okay."
Jane realized only then that there were tears in her own eyes, but she didn't dare release either of her hands from where they were just then to try to wipe them away. Letting go of him was the last thing she wanted to do.
"I asked her to stay," he said sadly. "She was starting to fade, and I could feel that it was ending."
Jane leaned into him harder, the only thing she could think to do. She couldn't remember her past, of course, but she could only imagine how much it had hurt him to try so desperately to hold onto something he'd lost while feeling it being ripped away again. In a way, that was what had happened to her with Roman and Shepherd. She'd found them, but for all intents and purposes they had been lost to her even before that.
"But she said that she'd never left, and she wasn't going to."
He sounded so completely exhausted of all emotion, and once again Jane wished with everything inside her that there was something that she could do. With a sigh, she felt her own tears trickling down her cheeks faster and faster.
"She hugged me tightly, the same way she used to. The way kids do. Fiercely. I tried to hold onto her this time, not let her go, but… I couldn't. Of course I couldn't… And she told me that I…" He breathed in and out slowly several times, feeling the last of his composure faltering, before he was able to continue in a whisper. "She said that I didn't fail her, and to stop telling myself that. That she had been lucky to have me. And that now…"
He'd trailed off, not speaking for more than a minute, and she thought he'd gotten lost in thought again, so she did the only thing she could do, and waited. Finally, he took a deep breath and continued.
"She said that now… You were." He turned and looked down at her for the first time since he'd started talking. Jane had to bite her lip at the extra swell of unexpected emotion just then. "She made me promise not to let the past get in the way of… of us, I guess. This."
"Wow," Jane whispered. It felt inadequate, but it was the only word that came to mind. She was simply overwhelmed by everything he'd just told her, especially by the fact that she'd been mentioned at all.
Kurt smiled sadly, letting out a long breath. "Yeah," he sighed. "It felt like… it felt final. I don't know how else to explain it. Like maybe…"
"But she said she wasn't leaving, right?" Jane asked him, seeing him begin to despair at the idea that he was somehow losing her yet again. He'd already lost her twice, after all, and she knew what even the thought of losing her did to him.
"Yeah," he managed, his voice shaking slightly.
Squeezing his hand tightly, she pulled her right arm as far across his back as she could, holding on as tightly as she could. She wished she knew what else to do or say, but she didn't, so they sat there together in silence. It wasn't awkward – on the contrary, somehow it was comforting.
"What do you miss most about her?" Jane hadn't even realized that she'd said it out loud until she felt him shift to look at her again. He seemed just as surprised by the question as she was.
"I'm sorry, it's none of my—" Jane began quickly, feeling immensely guilty for having said the words out loud. She'd been wondering, just out of curiosity, and she was somewhat mortified that she'd let it slip out.
But Kurt was already shaking his head at her protest. "She loved me unconditionally…" he replied before she could finish her sentence. He stopped and looked surprised at himself, as if he'd never realized that he thought that before the words had tumbled out of his mouth.
"My mom…" he began slowly, "well, she had left long before that. My dad… I mean, I guess we had a decent relationship at that time, when Taylor was still around… I looked up to him but… he had a horrible temper even then. Sarah… I mean, she was my sister. We were alright… We had the usual sibling fights. But with Taylor…"
He shook his head as if he was baffled by what he was saying. "It was like no matter what I did, I knew she was on my side. I knew there was nothing I could do that would change that." Pausing, he seemed to be thinking hard before continuing. "And I guess maybe she wasn't the only one in my life who felt like that about me… but at the time, to me, it felt that way." Pursing his lips for a moment as a pained look crossed his face, he added, "And there was never time for her to prove otherwise."
Jane felt tears in her eyes starting all over again. And even though she knew that none of this was about her,she couldn't help but think about how many different ways she herself had let him down in such a short time. No matter how much she didn't come close to deserving to hear something like that said about her, it made her feel an emptiness inside her that started growing at that moment. Because no matter how deep her feelings for him ran, and no matter how hard she might try to atone for her sins, he could never make such a profoundly moving claim about her. Because she hadn't loved him unconditionally, had she? She wished that she could have said that she had, but that would have been a lie. After all, she remembered all too well hating him for letting her be tortured by the CIA, just as one example.
At that moment, she hated herself for having hated him, even knowing full well that that she was oversimplifying everything. Not only that, but that she'd been the one to ask him the question – though inadvertently – and that she couldn't very well take his answer personally. It was about Taylor, not her.
So why does it sting so badly then? she wondered.
Maybe because you wanted so desperately to be Taylor, and it's just one more reminder that you're not, the voice in her head suggested. You wanted to be important to him, and Taylor's importance has the innocence of a five year old. You didn't even have that innocence when you were a five year old. But none of it is your fault. You are Jane, after all, not Remi. You want to tell yourself that your love for him is worthless… but it's not.
He hadn't thought about his answer any more than she'd thought about the question in the first place. They'd both been equally surprised at both outbursts, but he had recovered more quickly. Sitting there watching her, he saw her absorbing his words, and watched her face change. He had answered her honestly, and the question hadn't been about her, so why did she look so devastated?
And she does, too, he heard Taylor saying in his head once again. She… Jane. She loves you. You just told her that what you missed most about Taylor was her unconditional love.
Understanding crept over him slowly as he watched her face for more clues. He saw her try to put up the mask that she used to wear, up until a few days ago anyway, but less and less since then – the one that kept everyone out – but it seemed that she didn't have the strength, or that the effort required was too great. He knew that logically he had nothing to feel sorry about, because he'd simply answered his question…
Except that he remembered then when he'd told her when she'd first come back, when things had been so extremely tense between them, that he'd wanted her to be Taylor.
More than anything.
He closed his eyes, feeling terrible now. Because if her thoughts had gone in the direction that he thought they had, then he'd just rubbed it all in. What she'd heard had probably sounded something like, "I wanted you to be Taylor because she loved me unconditionally…" Even if it wasn't quite that, it was something that was making her face contort in dismay.
She probably feels like she failed you, the same way you've always felt about Taylor.
Whatever it was that had her so upset, he had to do something.
She was trying her best to talk herself down – but she had so little experience doing anything of the sort that she was still woefully bad at it. To be fair, Taylor never went through a fraction of what you did, she reminded herself. She was five. It's a lot easier for a five year old to love someone unconditionally. Their worlds are much simpler, much smaller. But the words were of little comfort. It seemed like nothing she told herself made her feel any better.
What does that even mean, to love someone unconditionally? she asked herself. I can't even imagine. To say that you would love them no matter what they did? But how could you make a promise like that? There are some things that are just… unforgiveable. After all, as far as Jane was concerned, she knew a fair bit about people who'd done horrible things, things that should not be forgiven… herself being one of them.
But don't you love him? the voice in her head asked kindly.
Of course, she admitted sheepishly, unwilling to say anything more than that single acknowledgement. Even this was a big step for her.
So even after everything he's done… after letting the CIA take you… You still love him?
Jane saw where this was going. She wasn't going to let her words get twisted around by her subconscious. But I hated him! she protested. I remember how much I hated him.
And yet… the voice said calmly, Here you are.
Clearing his throat, Kurt broke the heavy silence. "I was ten, Jane," he said without pretense, knowing at least which general direction her thoughts had gone, and that she would understand what he was saying without any further explanation. "She was five. It's not the same."
She nodded, swallowing hard and trying to move slowly away from him without even realizing it. "I know," she said, but her voice betrayed her. She didn't believe him, and she was already trying to withdraw into her shell.
"Do you?" he asked, looking down at her. She met his eyes only reluctantly, and suddenly they had switched roles – now he was holding onto her. "I don't want you to be Taylor, okay? I want you to be Jane. And all the messiness that comes with that. I wouldn't change anything about it all, because it got us where we are."
Looking up at him skeptically, she stared into his eyes for almost a minute before she asked, "Any of it?"
What about your father killing your childhood best friend? she wondered. Like a stranger trying to pass herself off as said friend in order for a terrorist cell to infiltrate the FBI?
The way she was staring at him, he could tell that it was inconceivable to her that he would choose not to change the past. That made him wonder if maybe she would, if she had the chance, but he would leave that for another discussion.
"I'm not saying I'd want to go through it all again," he replied with a sincere smile. A chuckle that came out sounding more like a choked sob escaped from her then, and she couldn't help smile back at him then, her eyes still full of tears, because that was perhaps the understatement of the year. "But for better or for worse, we don't have that option," he continued. "The past is… done. There's no changing it. I don't want it to get in the way of what we have now." She nodded quickly, the nod that showed that she was working hard to convince herself of what she tried to pretend she felt.
A sadness crept into his smile then, and he could feel it even though he couldn't see his own expression. "Just like I promised Taylor." Her expression changed, too, and he wondered if he looked as sad as she suddenly did. But something occurred to him then, something that made his smile change once again, and the sadness seemed to evaporate. "And I want to make the same promise to you."
Biting her lip, Jane shook her head, now suddenly looking scared. "You don't have to promise me anything," she said quietly. It was almost as though she was begging him not to.
"Of course I don't," he said, smiling tiredly this time. "But I want to."
He watched as she closed her eyes, a slightly pained look on her face and her body tensing. It was scary for her to believe things like that – that someone would promise her, well, any kind of loyalty right now, he knew, but that was okay. She just needed practice.
When she sighed tiredly, he realized just how worn out he felt, himself. It was still afternoon, probably a few hours until dinner time. "Let's go lay down for a little while," he suggested. "I think we can let Sarah handle dinner tonight."
Her eyes opened slowly, and she looked relieved for the change of topic. "Wow, things have really changed I guess, if you're willingly leaving the cooking to Sarah," she replied, attempting to use her joke to lighten her mood. She, too, was exhausted, but she couldn't resist giving him a hard time.
"Well," he said, drawing out the word the same way that she always found so adorable, "Food is important, but I need you more." Realizing that his words could have been misconstrued, he started to open his mouth to backtrack slightly, but she just smiled and leaned her head around the front of his shoulder, pressing her temple gently against his chest, feeling both of his arms come up around her tightly.
"Okay," he said pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "let's get up." She grumbled something about not wanting to get up, but his arms dropped from around her and he moved away. He stood up, so of course she did the same, taking the hand that he offered her, just as he usually did.
"I forgot to ask you," Kurt said as he pulled her up slowly, looking down at the Monopoly board still in front of them, "What happened to Sarah and Sawyer?"
"Well, since you guys had cleared the cars off," Jane told him, "when she realized that you might appreciate a little …space… she took Sawyer and they went out for a little bit."
"There's not much around here," he said, "I wonder where they went."
"I don't know," Jane told him. "Sarah just said that she thought I would have better luck than she would with whatever was bothering you, and they'd be back later. I'm pretty sure Sawyer just considers this, like, a rain delay or something," she said. "He still expects to get his gave of Monopoly."
"Of course," Kurt said with a smile. He shook his head at his sister's foresight and consideration. "And Sarah was right," he told her, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead, then keeping the bridge of his nose leaned against the spot where he'd kissed her. "You are definitely the one person I want beside me for all of this." He squeezed her hand, which he had been holding since they'd stood up, lifted his head and looked into her eyes with a smile, which was reflected back at him in her face. "I feel like we've done nothing but sleep today," he told her as they started walking toward the stairs. "Or at least, we've done nothing but go to sleep and wake up, over and over again."
"Yeah," Jane agreed, "it does feel like all we've done."
He was still processing what he'd seen in the family room, "talking" to Taylor, and he imagined that he would be for a long time… He felt drained, and yet, somehow he felt more at peace, less haunted than he had in almost as long as he could remember.
"All I know is I'm exhausted," Kurt replied, yawning. "I guess seeing ghosts takes it out of you." She squeezed his hand then, trying to allay the slightly self-deprecating tone in his voice.
Looking over at him then, the expression on her face said, Don't do that, and he just looked down and shrugged, feeling exhausted both mentally and physically. A nap was what he needed, he decided. A nap with Jane, well, that was even better. Maybe this time, they'd both sleep peacefully.
They made it to the bottom of the stairs and he stopped, looking up towards the top with a sigh. He willed himself not to see any of the million different times when Taylor had run up or down those stairs, with or without those damn rain boots that she'd loved so much. He waited, feeling Jane looking at him, and was surprised when for once, he didn't see any sign of Taylor.
Smiling in surprise, he exhaled the breath he'd been holding without even realizing it. There had been a time when he'd thought that Jane was Taylor, of course, and he remembered a feeling of immense relief that he'd found her after so long. This was different, of course. When he'd thought he'd found her alive, that had been… he'd felt elation like he'd never imagined he could feel. And when he'd found out that he'd been wrong, that Taylor been dead all those years after all… it had been complicated, obviously, but what he'd felt had certainly been the opposite of elation.
And now? Well, it obviously wasn't the same feeling of relief that he'd had when Patterson had said that Jane's DNA proved that she was Taylor. It was different now – of course it was. But even though he'd lost her twice, and he knew that she was never coming back, even still… suddenly, he felt a different kind of relief at the thought that she wasn't gone. After what he'd seen, or imagined, or whatever it had been that he'd experienced that afternoon, that much he knew. At least, she wasn't any more gone than she had been for all these years, and somehow, strangely, maybe even less so. After all, he'd talked to her after twenty five years of only wishing that he could. And no, he knew that he hadn't actually talked to her, but he felt like he'd talked to her, and in the end, maybe the distinction was irrelevant.
However you wanted to frame it, he felt better. Lighter.
A thought struck him, and he felt surprise radiate through from his head to his toes. Is this what closure feels like? he wondered.
He'd been chasing it for almost his whole life, and it had been just a word, a concept that seemed completely impossible, and something that he'd assumed that he'd never achieve, as much as he'd craved it. Could this be it?
Jane had turned and stepped onto the first step, still holding his hand and now facing him, the step putting them closer to eye level with each other than usual. She simply waited and watched. She'd grown accustomed to the look on his face when he saw Taylor, but this was different. He looked lost in thought, yes, but this wasn't the same. She stood in front of him patiently, her fingers moving slowly over his without letting go.
His expression was almost a smile, she noticed, and somehow he looked both happy and sad at the same time. Finally his eyes focused on her, and as he realized that she was there in front of him, the smile on his face changed into one unlike any smile she'd ever seen. She looked at him questioningly, wondering what was different this time. Every other time that he'd been lost in thought since they'd been in Clearfield it had upset him, after all.
"Jane," he said breathlessly.
"Hey," she said, feeling like something important was happening, but unable to figure out what. "You're… okay, right?"
"I don't even know how to explain it but… yeah… I am," he whispered, putting his free hand up to her cheek and moving his thumb back and forth.
"Good," she said with relief. When he continued to stare at her, not saying anything else, she tilted her head to the side, into his hand, and asked, "Nap time?"
"Yes," he replied emphatically. "You and me. Let's get moving before I fall over." The emotional roller coaster he'd been on in the past few hours had left him drained. He dropped his hand slowly from her cheek and she turned, still holding his hand in hers as they walked up the stairs.
So this is what it's like, he thought, following her up the stairs in awe. After all of those years, it turned out that only Jane had been able to help him find what he'd been looking for.
Closure.