Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)
He wasn't sure what he was expecting when they stepped out of the elevator, but he was glad to see that everything seemed calm in the bullpen – well, as calm as it ever was in the NYO. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be happening, anyway. They saw Zapata and Reade sitting at their workstations, talking, and Kurt headed in their direction. Jane hung back slightly, but followed his lead.
"Hey, look who's back…" Zapata said with a grin, drawing out her words in amusement. "Did you guys have a good weekend?" She raised her eyebrows curiously at them, as if she knew something that even they didn't.
"Glad to see you're feeling more… uh, yourself, Zapata," Kurt said, ignoring her question. Zapata realized that the last time she saw them, at the holiday party on Friday night, she'd been a little less sober than usual… and her grin faded slightly as an embarrassed grimace took its place.
Jane, however, answered the question for both of them as she came to stand beside Kurt hesitantly. "It was a nice weekend," she replied simply. She couldn't shake the feeling of awkwardness over the fact that it was now common knowledge that they'd spent the weekend together, with his family, but she did her best. They were adults, of course, and it wasn't as though they'd done anything wrong… it was just a little more personal information than either of them would have chosen to share, if they had the choice. "There was a lot of snow out there," she added, her mouth curling into a smile. No mention of being stranded in a blizzard… Jane and Kurt were both relieved to be able to keep that detail to themselves.
Zapata nodded thoughtfully, watching the way the two of them interacted with great interest. It didn't escape her attention the way Weller's eyes had gone to Jane as soon as she'd started talking, and had stayed on her, though for just a second, even after she finished. She noticed the way he stood close to her. Though they were not touching, he was just inside her personal space. Neither of them was giving off tension, interestingly. No, it was something else.
"Yeah, we had a little bit of snow here," Zapata replied, her eyes still darting back between the two. She wasn't sure which of them she wanted to watch more just then.
Kurt could tell that Zapata was dying to know a lot more than just the fact that they'd gotten a lot of snow on their weekend away, but to her credit, she didn't ask any questions other than whether they'd had a good weekend. This didn't mean that she wouldn't, of course, but at least she was at least going to ease into them slowly. For now, he knew, she was merely making observations about the two of them. That was the problem with working for the FBI, which such observant agents – it could be hard to keep secrets from them.
"So, anything new that we should know about?" Kurt asked, his eyes darting between Zapata and Reade. The pair shrugged, shaking their heads noncommittally.
"I left that report you asked for on your desk," Reade replied. "We looked into a few things today, but nothing really panned out. It's been slow around here." Kurt nodded, looking back at Zapata, who shook her head.
"Nothing to report, like he said," she replied. "For once, we've had a few quiet days."
Rolling his eyes, Kurt shook his head. "Don't jinx us," he told her, shaking his head. Then, looking back at Jane, he said, "Maybe this will be a short stop, after all…" She smiled slightly, nodding, and Zapata couldn't help but notice the first hint of tension on Jane's face. Focusing on her for a second, and the way she was reacting to Weller, she tried to figure out what it was that suddenly made her look stressed.
Looking at his watch, Kurt said, "Well, if nothing's going on, you guys may as well take off. It's about that time anyway." Both of them smiled with gratitude, happy to leave a few minutes early with their boss' blessing.
"Thanks, boss," Zapata grinned at him, wasting no time in standing up. Reade was only a few seconds behind her.
"See you tomorrow," Kurt told them as they headed for the elevator. He looked at Jane and smiled, then turned without a word to walk down the hall towards Patterson's lab. When she stood still, unsure whether she should follow him, he only got a few steps away before glancing back over his shoulder at her.
For half a second she wasn't sure if she should follow him, but the twinkle in his eyes seemed to tell her to do just that, so she caught up and fell into step beside him. As they walked down the hall, which was empty this late in the day the week after Christmas, his pace slowed until he had stopped, turning to look at her carefully.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
Smiling at his thoughtfulness, and wondering if he'd been able to see the flash of uncertainty that she'd felt when he'd said that it might be a short stop, she nodded. The fact that they might not be there long was supposed to be a good thing, she knew, but she couldn't help the fact that it made her anxious… After all, she didn't know what came after this.
Suck it up, she told herself. The weekend was always going to end… either it's going to go back to the way it was, or it's not. Nothing you do right now is going to change it.
And maybe that was what was stressing her out. The uncertainty and lack of control, two things of which there was an abundance in her life, and both of which she hated. After all, though the feeling had slowly decreased over time, there was always more of both of them in her life than in most people's.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
Really, her stomach was more in knots than anything at the moment, but she knew that the correct response was 'yes,' so she nodded slightly. "Yeah, a little," she replied with a shrug.
He knew what that reply meant, but he let it go for the time being. "When we're done here, you want to go get something to eat?" he asked her.
The tension on her face lessened slightly, and she felt herself begin to relax. This readjustment of her expectations, and of letting herself trust him again, was going to be a process. She had known that before they'd gotten back, but now it was a reality.
Smiling with the relief of at least a small amount of certainty, she nodded. "Yeah," she replied quietly, and watched as he looked almost as relieved as she felt.
"Let's go check in with Patterson, and then I'll see if there's anything I need to see on my desk. After that, we can get out of here and find some food," he said. He stepped closer to her, but managed to keep his hands at his sides – though it wasn't easy. "Okay?"
This time, Jane just nodded, looking up at him hesitantly. It didn't make much sense, after everything that had happened between them that weekend, but she suddenly felt shy, as if she was afraid that he would be able to see exactly how she felt just from looking in her eyes.
He already knows how you feel, silly, she reminded herself. She managed to force a slight smile to accompany the nod, but she didn't say anything.
Tilting his head in the direction they'd been heading to see Patterson, Kurt turned and started walking again. "Come on," he told her simply, and they fell into step side by side once again.
They were barely through the door of her lab before Patterson was tripping over herself to meet them halfway across the room. "Hey, you guys," she said with a knowing look from one of them to the other. Patterson had, after all, been significantly less drunk than Zapata at the party on Friday, therefore, she could remember it a little better, and could remember just how cute the two of them had been together.
"So, did you have a nice Christmas?" She wasn't looking for anything juicy – at least not now, with Weller there. She'd have to talk to Jane later, alone, for that. No, at that moment she was just genuinely so excited for the two of them. It had been clear that they'd had feelings for each other since the beginning, after all, and after everything that had happened with the CIA… well, Patterson was a sucker for a romantic 'meant to be' type story, and if anyone she'd ever meant had been meant to be, it was those two.
"We did," Kurt answered with a small smile, somehow feeling less like he was being interrogated than he had by Zapata. "And you?"
Patterson smiled and rolled her eyes, nodding. "Lots of family in town," she replied. "It was nice to get back to work. Somehow this is the less stressful of the two options." Jane and Kurt both smiled, nodding sympathetically at the image of Patterson at home, being stressed out by her doubtlessly well-intentioned family.
"Anything new?" Kurt asked, watching the tension immediately take over Patterson's face once again.
"I've had a frustrating day in the tattoo department," she admitted. "Nothing has seemed to pan out today."
"That's okay, Patterson," Kurt said kindly. "Just keep plugging away." The blonde nodded as her determination returned. It helped to hear the certainty in Kurt's voice. "But right now," he told her, "You should be getting ready to get out of here. You look like you need rest even worse than you did when we left."
Patterson just shrugged, not wanting to even think about leaving. It was just barely 5:00, after all. What was she supposed to do? Go home and stare at her empty walls and think about how she'd let 'Borden' – Nigel – or whatever his name was… fool her so completely? No, she was better off at work. Of course, she knew better than to tell Kurt this.
"I know, I will," she replied. "I just want to check a few more things before I go."
Kurt looked at her skeptically, wondering how much longer she was going to do this to herself before she let someone help her. "I'm serious, Patterson," he told her, his tone exactly that. "I don't want to have to have an agent drop you off at home."
She smiled at him as if she thought he was kidding – though she was fairly sure that he wasn't – and nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Weller, I promise. I'm almost done."
"We'll see you tomorrow then, rested…" he told her, emphasizing the last word. Patterson smiled, nodding and rolling her eyes at him again. "Otherwise, I will be assigning a detail to make sure you go home and stay there long enough to sleep."
"Go home, you two," Patterson told them, appreciating what Kurt was trying to do, but just wishing that he would stop worrying about her. After all, she was fine. Or… she would be fine. Eventually.
"Good night, Patterson," Kurt said with a smile, shaking his head at her stubbornness. It seemed like everyone on his team had that streak, he suddenly realized.
Jane smiled at her and added, "Get some rest, please," she told the blonde. "Good night."
Patterson smiled back at them until she felt like her face as going to crack from pretending so hard to be happy, as Jane and Kurt finally left her lab. As soon as they were through the door, her face fell, returning to the frown that she'd been wearing most of the day. Like all the other days lately, she tried not to think about what time it was or whether she should be going home, only what she was trying to accomplish.
Back in the hall, Jane and Kurt walked close beside each other toward Kurt's office. It may or may not have been on purpose, but she felt the back of his hand brush against the back of hers, and she wished they were already not at the office. After a brief stop in Kurt's office, where he determined that there was nothing there that couldn't wait until the next day, they were stepping back into the elevator, blissfully alone again.
As soon as the doors closed, she stepped forward to close the gap between them. She leaned her forehead on his shoulder, and his arms went around her back as his chin rested on the top of her head. He felt her sigh against him, and it made him sigh as well, pulling her a little tighter.
"What do you feel like eating?" he asked as the elevator's motion came to a stop, and the two were forced to stand up and step back from each other, once again just before the doors opened. "We could grab something from the Chinese place in your neighborhood and then take it back to your place to eat."
Just then, that sounded about as perfect as it was going to get, and she tried not to think about what came after that… The part where she'd be staring at the empty safe house walls and talking herself down from the thoughts that swirled inside her head, like she usually did at night.
"Sounds good," she replied as they stepped out of the elevator, impressed that he remembered that there was a Chinese place in her neighborhood after all that time. It wasn't as though he'd been to her place recently, other than to stop quickly, after dark, for her grab her things for the weekend on Friday night.
Despite the fact that they were still in the parking garage, and technically still at the FBI, he grabbed her hand, holding it tightly as they walked back to his car, and he made sure that she got settled into the passenger side, closing the door behind her, before walking around to the driver's side.
Traffic was light as they made their way back towards Jane's neighborhood, and it wasn't long before they were climbing out of the car again, parked along the curb in front of the Chinese place that they hadn't been to together in a long time. Jane couldn't help but feel like they'd gotten there too fast, feeling her anxiety about being back in her neighborhood growing steadily. This was going to be the problem with coming down from the high of such a good weekend, she could already see.
After ordering Shrimp Lo Mein and Kung Pao Chicken, along with an order of dumplings, they walked back outside into the cool night air to walk around the block while they waited for the food. There was a cold wind with a little bit of bite to it, but there was only a dusting of snow on the ground. It wasn't nearly as cold as it had been out in Clearfield, so for the moment, it didn't bother them. It was just cold enough for Jane to snuggle against Kurt for warmth as they walked, his arm once again around her shoulders and hers around his waist.
"You've been quiet these past few hours," he told her, letting her know that he had noticed. "Everything okay?" She stared at the ground ahead of them as they walked, wanting to say that she was fine, because she wanted it to be true. However, she knew that if she said that she was fine, it would be a lie, and she had promised herself not to lie to him again. Not after the way that her other lies and almost destroyed everything between them. After all, they were only just learning to trust each other again.
When she didn't reply right away, he pretty much figured that he knew the answer, and the fact that he felt her tense up only reinforced what he already knew. By the time she finally brought herself to reply, he was already formulating a response.
"I want to be," she said quietly, thinking that that sounded better than saying, No, I am not okay. "Altogether, I think you've told me about a hundred times that I'm going to be," He chuckled, remembering, because he supposed that was something he'd said frequently to reassure her, especially in the beginning. "I'm only starting to know what that means, though."
"I know," he replied simply, pulling his arm around her tighter. "And that's okay. There's no rush." After a pause, he added, "Ihave plenty of time… We have plenty of time."
She smiled weakly, letting her head fall against his shoulder and wondering if that could be true. After all, everything had felt so rushed since she'd come back to the FBI, since Sandstorm's threat had been so imminent. The idea of having the luxury of time was unfamiliar to her, except for the hours she spent in her safe house alone, where time felt like anything but a luxury. It occurred to her now, for the first time, that having time could actually be a good thing. Their weekend had helped her realize this.
They'd walked a few blocks up the street, turning at the corner to make their way back toward the restaurant in a large square on the grid-like blocks. "Do you feel different?" Jane asked after they'd walked in silence for a few minutes. She couldn't help but wonder, after watching him go through so much emotionally over the weekend.
"Different how?" he asked.
"After… this weekend. Being back in Clearfield after twenty-five years, and having to face all of your memories of… Taylor," she replied, hesitating before saying the name of the long-dead girl that had brought them together.
Nodding in understanding, he sighed. "I guess… In a way, yes. I do feel different. Almost like… a weight has been lifted off of me… one that I was so used to, I didn't even realize how heavy it was." He said it slowly and deliberately, as if he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it.
"But that's good, right?" she asked in confusion, thinking that he didn't sound sure. It seemed strange, because she would have thought that that would have been a positive thing.
For some reason, the tone in her voice made him smile. It almost seemed like she was trying to reassure him, which was exactly what he would expect from her, knowing her as he did. "Yes, that's good," he replied warmly, turning slowly and looking down at her. He could only see her profile, but from her expression, it seemed like something was bothering her.
Realizing that he was watching her, she forced a smile onto her face, even though she didn't quite feel it. They walked for a few more minutes before he pulled her to a stop. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"It's stupid," she said, shaking her head and closing her eyes.
"If it's bothering you, it's not stupid," he told her. "Tell me." He turned and pulled her closer with both hands. Her left arm remained on his back, but her right hand stayed at her side.
Sighing heavily, she opened her eyes but stared down at the front of his jacket instead of looking up at him. "I feel better, after this weekend," she began slowly, "I just…" She shook her head, not wanting to say what she was feeling. It was petty and stupid and childish.
"What?" he asked softly.
With a sigh, she figured that she might as well tell him, because he wasn't going to give up until she did, and she wasn't going to lie to him. Telling him was the only option. "I wish I felt like that," she told him miserably. "And I hate myself for being jealous, because I'm happy for you. I want you to get the weight of the world off of your shoulders. You deserve it…"
When she ran out of words, she fought the urge to lean forward until her forehead landed on his chest, wishing that she could run away, and yet simultaneously wanting to be as close to him as possible. How was it even possible to feel both at once? And so she stood there in front of him, determined not to run and also to remain upright, to keep her distance from him. So she stood there, frozen in place in front of him.
She was breathing raggedly, and for a second he stood just as still as she did. No, he'd been too focused on what she had just said. He couldn't fault her for how she felt – on the contrary, he tried to imagine how it would feel to be in her shoes, and decided that he would probably feel something similar. Despite the fact that she liked to minimize her own strength and her own bravery, he knew better than anyone how hard she fought for each small victory over circumstances that had never been within her control in all the time that she had been Jane.
Thought she didn't move on her own, his arms came up to encircle her shoulders tightly, pulling her in. For a split second she tensed against him, as if she wanted to escape, before she relaxed and let him hold onto her.
"You're so hard on yourself," he said soothingly from beside her ear. "Did you ever notice that?" Her breathing was still uneven, and he paused for a few seconds, simply standing there as she only very slowly calmed back down. "There's nothing wrong with wishing that the things that weigh you down would disappear," he continued. "If only it worked that way…" He felt her breathing slowing down, even felt the slightest chuckle against him. "But you know that's why people need each other, right?"
Her head had rolled slightly to land on his shoulder, and now that he'd asked her a question, one that she couldn't figure out whether or not it was rhetorical, she lifted her head and leaned back just enough to look at him, a little confused.
Seeing that she was waiting for an explanation, and that somehow she genuinely didn't seem to know what he was talking about, he could only smile at her and shake his head. "Life – and not just your life – is full of things that are too heavy to carry by yourself. That's why people need each other. Your life… well, you wouldn't be out of line to argue that the burdens you carry are heavier than what most people deal with. Of course, you are also a lot stronger than most people, maybe because of it. And no, that isn't fair, but neither is life in general. But however strong you are, that doesn't mean that you have to do it all by yourself…"
She seemed to still be processing what he was saying, and wasn't ready to respond, so he continued. "Of course, I'm really not one to talk about letting people in, seeing as how I've never been able to do it," he said, shaking his head. "So it's sort of ironic for me to be giving this advice, maybe. I've held in how I felt about… well, everything, especially about Taylor… for practically my whole life. I could have dealt with it better, I suppose, but…" He stopped to take a deep breath, and then kept talking. "Well, I guess there weren't many people in my life, and there was no one I felt like I could open up to, so I just… didn't. Until now."
For a few seconds he just stared into her eyes, watching her look back at him, then he continued once again. "And even though yes, I do feel… lighter… I'm not magically over it all. It doesn't all just vanish. It's still there. It's just… different, like you said." He paused then, glancing down for a second, and then back up at her. "And just so you know… the way I feel now, after this weekend… I never could have gotten there without you… which explains why I never did, until now." He noticed that she still looked torn, and he smiled at her when she nodded sadly. "You have something I never had, though," he told her, smiling slowly in spite of the gravity of the conversation, as if he had a secret to tell her.
"What's that?" she asked, sincerely curious.
"Someone who's not going to let it take twenty-five years before you get past all this, too," he replied quietly.
Despite her pained expression, there was a hint of a smile on her face, and she leaned forward until her forehead fell against his collarbone. She felt him kiss her temple as she inhaled slowly, trying to breathe in the calm that he was projecting so intensely. "You're going to be okay," he whispered, letting his cheek rest against hers.
"You keep saying that," she told him, just as quietly.
"Because I mean it, silly," he replied.
Because he was holding onto her so tightly, he felt her chuckle just a little bit against him, and he could also sense that she was beginning to relax. He would have happily stayed exactly where he was, except that he once again became aware that that were standing on a darkened sidewalk, their dinner probably now waiting for them, and that they needed to sleep before going back to their work routine the following day. Many reasons that they shouldn't just be standing there, as much as he didn't want to let go of her.
"We should go get our food," he mumbled into the side of her face a few minutes later.
"Mmmmhmmm," she replied, not moving.
He chuckled at her, then asked, "Come on. If you haven't figured this out yet, you're not getting rid of me anytime soon, so this isn't your only chance for… this," he assured her.
"Well that's a happy thought," she said quietly, standing back up and slowly looking up at him. Shyness had crept back into her face, and he couldn't get over how endearing it looked on her.
Turning in the direction that they'd been walking, he let one arm drop from her shoulders, leaving the other one firmly in place as they made their way back to the restaurant, where they collected the food that was indeed waiting for them. Back in the car, they drove the rest of the way back to Jane's place, only now realizing how hungry they were as the car filled up with the smells of their dinner.
Kurt found a parking space directly in front of Jane's building, and they hopped out to survey the contents of the trunk to see what had to go inside. Before he picked up the box of books from the trunk, Jane stopped to carefully remove the small black box – Taylor's box – that had slid into one corner between the books, cupping one hand under it and one hand over it, almost as if she was protecting it. Holding her hands up toward Kurt, she removed the hand from over the top of it, waiting a few seconds while he just stared at it. She held it patiently until he was ready to take it, which he finally did a minute later, mumbling, "Thanks," before moving back to the front of the car and opening the door so that he could set it carefully inside the center console.
The transfer complete, he took her weekend bag along with the box containing his old books, leaving her with the shopping bag containing their food, out of the car to bring inside.
They made their way to the door with only Jane's things, which she tried her hardest to ignore. She told herself that it didn't matter that Kurt's duffle bag, the sleeping bag, and the bag of extra winter gear remained in the car – of course they did. They were his, and this was her place. She reminded herself that she was being more than a little ridiculous when she felt a twinge of – what was it, exactly? She couldn't even be sure. All she knew was, she didn't like it. She'd very quickly gotten used to being with him all the time. Too quickly. The thought of having separate homes once again made her chest ache.
So she did the only thing she could do just then, and told herself that it didn't matter, focusing on their food, and on the fact that he was beside her as they sat down on the couch with the take out boxes, chopsticks in hand – apparently using chopsticks was a skill that she hadn't ever forgotten. After all, who cared where the bags were, when he was right there, sitting snuggled up next to her?
He'd turned on the TV in the corner of the room, which was playing something she didn't recognize – which could have been almost anything, because she never really watched TV, and when she did, it all looked the same to her. The only mildly interesting thing she'd come across was the show that had made her realize that she spoke Japanese, called Ninja Warrior, which she'd stumbled upon in the middle of the night once when she couldn't sleep.
On an impulse, she leaned her left side – the side that he was sitting on – against the couch cushions behind them so that she was facing him, and carefully swung her legs over his, so that her heels rested on the cushion on the other side of him, the weight of her legs across his lap. She wasn't sure how he would react, of course, and she immediately wondered if she should have resisted. Looking up at him shyly, she noticed the surprise in his face when he looked down at her in complete amusement.
The paradoxes in her would never cease to amaze him. She'd just done something that could be considered at least a little bit bold, and yet the look on her face was extremely shy. He didn't have to try to smile back at her, because it happened all on its own. After all, how could he not love this about her?
"Comfy?" he asked with a grin, resting his arms on the fabric of her jeans and moving his left hand, which was not holding any food, slowly behind her knee.
"Yes," she said, now smiling happily. "Very." She now felt very good about her spur of the moment decision. So far, being back in New York was going just fine.
See? the voice in her head asked. Nothing to worry about.
We'll see, she replied, cautiously optimistic.
They ate straight out of the take out containers, sitting there on the couch. They took turns taking dumplings out of the container that Kurt was holding, and after that they each picked up one of the other two, trading every few minutes.
He noticed that each time they traded, it looked from the amount of food inside the container as if Jane hadn't eaten anything at all. And yet, he'd watched her put food into her mouth, little by little, time and time again. Not much, but something.
Setting the box of Lo Mein down on the coffee table for the last time, as if reading his thoughts, she sighed and said, "I like eating out of the container, instead of on a plate. It's a lot less obvious how little I can eat."
Kurt had, actually, forgotten about Jane's only slowly recovering appetite and how self-conscious it made her. He'd watched her eating with him at every meal that weekend, and the fact that he knew that she was eating was all that mattered to him, not how much. Carefully, so he didn't make her lose her balance, he leaned around her to set the take out box down on the coffee table beside hers, and then wound his arms around her waist to her lower back.
Turning his body toward her and looking down at her intensely for a minute before he replied, he took his time when he did. After all, he didn't want her to just dismiss what he was saying. "You're doing fine, Jane. Don't focus on that. It's going to get better. Give it a little time."
"It's been… months already," she replied sadly, her forehead leaning forward against his shoulder so that she didn't have to look at him.
With a sigh, Kurt was once again faced with the fact that for months, he had ignored her well-being, or lack thereof, and allowed her to suffer the anger and resentment of the team – most strikingly his own. He was someone who had allegedly known her well enough that he should have believed her when she said that she'd done what she'd done to protect them. That should have been the end of it, or at least, it would have put her on the road to recovery a lot sooner. Not only that, he should have known her well enough that she should not have needed to tell him that in the first place. He should have just known.
"Ssshhhhh," he said soothingly, bringing his left hand up slowly along her back until it reached her neck, then laying his hand flat against her skin and simply moving it up and down the back of it. "We've always done better together, and this is going to be no exception. Right?"
Smiling, despite the fact that she suddenly felt a wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her once again, she nodded against his shoulder.
"Okay then, good," he replied quietly. The TV droned on in the background, and Kurt had no idea what they were watching. He leaned his right cheek against Jane's head, looking at the TV without actually seeing it, and before long he felt his eyes growing heavy. It had been another long, emotional day, after all. He couldn't see Jane's face, but from the sound of her breathing, he guessed that she'd already dozed off.
We need to get up. I need to go home, he thought fleetingly, not wanting to do anything of the sort. Even though he knew that they'd regret it if they tried to sleep there, sitting up like that, he couldn't help but think that it was perfect. Telling himself that he'd force himself up in a few more minutes, he relaxed against the couch, and against Jane.
The next thing he knew, Kurt was stirring. He'd fallen asleep, of course, as had Jane. According to the clock, it was almost midnight, and with another full day ahead of him, he knew that he should let both of them get some real sleep. It seemed ridiculous to wake her up in order to send her to bed, but that was exactly what he intended to do.
"Jane," he whispered beside her face. Pushing his face gently into her hair, he breathed in the scent of her shampoo and thought that he might never get enough of the feeling of being so close to her. "Hey," he mumbled. "Time for bed. I need to get going so you can get some sleep."
She'd been waking up just fine, happily and peacefully, until he'd said that he needed to get going. Now, suddenly she felt tense and anxious in addition to sleepy and slightly disoriented.
"Do you need me to carry you again?" he asked.
"No," she replied, with a little more irritation in her voice than she'd intended. Finally lifting her head when she felt him shifting underneath her, she muttered, "Fine, I'm getting up." She didn't want to be testy with him, especially after how sweet he'd been to her – again – just like he'd been for the past 4 days straight. Of course he deserved to be allowed to go home. She didn't want him to, but what kind of needy, childish person did that make her if she tried to stop him?
No, she told herself, get a grip. She lifted her legs off of him, turning to put her feet on the floor, already feeling like she was far, far away from him when really they were still right beside each other. Feeling the beginning of the all too familiar sensation of falling, the one that she sometimes got when her walls were going back up, she braced her hands against the edge of the couch.
It's fine, she thought, taking deep breaths.
"I should go. We both need some sleep, and the morning will be here early," he said, looking at her worriedly until she finally looked up at him. She looked tired, and there was something else in her eyes, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it. "Okay?"
"Yeah," she said, determined to let him go home, no matter how not okay she felt about it. He didn't have to babysit her, after all. He'd been nice enough to let her tag along with him for the weekend. She'd survived without him by her side every second before, so what in the world was her problem now?
Stop it, she told herself. This is not rejection. You're reading way too much into this. You just need to sleep.
Of course, she wasn't sure of the likelihood that that was going to happen. She didn't exactly have a great track record of being able to sleep well inside these particular walls.
They both stood up and stretched. He closed the take out containers and took them to the refrigerator, then watched as she slowly caught up with him outside the kitchen. He couldn't decide if what he was seeing in her face was a product of being tired, or if something was bothering her.
If you had to guess, he told himself, knowing Jane, it's not tiredness.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked with genuine concern.
The tone of his voice just made her more determined not to burden him with how she felt.
That's stupid, she told herself. He sincerely want to know if you're going to be okay. You're already not okay. Just say something. Or is he supposed to just read your mind?
No, she thought stubbornly. I am okay. She could see a physical representation of the voice in her head, inside her head. It looked exactly like her, and it was shaking its head at her in annoyance at her stubbornness.
Following him to the door, she forced herself to breathe normally, despite the rising feeling of panic in her chest. It's fine, she kept telling herself.
"Thank you again for everything this weekend," he was saying, turning around to face her and pulling her into a hug.
"No, thank you," she said insistently. "You saved me from having to spend Christmas here by myself."
His eyes darted around to the dark, empty space behind her, and he was relieved that he'd finally come to his senses. It may be a safe place for her physically, but that didn't meant that she should spend so much time alone there. He felt badly enough about leaving her there now, for just a few hours, after all… but it wasn't as though he could just announce that he was going to stay over.
Oh really? a voice in his head asked skeptically. What would it take before you would do exactly that? I'll bet you would decide that you were staying if she was crying… or if she was upset.
But she's not, he insisted. She's fine.
She's not fine, the voice replied quickly. You can't see that.
Standing back, he looked into her eyes once again, trying to determine whether she was actually okay, or just pretending. She was really excellent at deception, when she wanted to be – it had been part of her Sandstorm training, it seemed.
Still, he felt like of all people, he should be able to tell when something was bothering her. While she clearly wanted him to believe that she was fine, he had a nagging suspicion that she wasn't being completely honest, despite how determinedly she was acting that way. He looked at her hard again, and said, "Call me if you need anything, okay? I mean it."
When she nodded nonchalantly, as if she thought nothing of it, his gut feeling about the fact that she wasn't as fine as she let on only intensified. Still, they both needed to sleep… and now they were home, and this was where she lived, but he didn't. It might be different if she'd asked him not to go…
She doesn't ask for help and you know it, the voice in his head spat, getting angry now.
"I'm serious, Jane," he said, looking at her so intensely now that the look on his face was almost accusatory.
Forcing the closest thing to a genuine smile onto her face that she could, she nodded as slowly as she could make herself, trying to make it believable, and replied, "I will."
He still didn't look satisfied, but he turned and opened the door. After all, what else could he do, short of either A) take her home with him or B) simply refuse to leave her alone?
Perhaps you should seriously consider doing one of those, the voice in his head told him.
No, those weren't serious options, he replied in annoyance. I can't do either one.
Why not? the voice wanted to know, but he ignored it, turning back to Jane once more, one hand on the doorknob.
She watched him closely, wishing that she could hold him there with her eyes alone. But of course, she wasn't going to stop him from leaving. They would see each other at work in only a few hours, after all. There was simply no way she was going to burden him with her any more tonight. He deserved a break.
Leaning down slowly towards her, he kissed her, on the lips this time, slowly but not quite innocently. Far too soon, he was pulling himself back, determined to make himself go home and go to bed before it officially became Wednesday. Or, at least to get into his car before it became Wednesday. Midnight was fast approaching, after all.
"I'll see you in a few hours," he told her. Her eyes held onto him like a tractor beam, and once again, he couldn't help but doubt his decision to leave by himself. Knowing that he had to disengage from her eyes at some point, he had yet to bring himself to do so. "I love you, Jane," he whispered, and was rewarded with what looked like a far more genuine smile that the one that had been on her face a second before.
"I love you, too," she whispered, having to restrain herself with everything inside her from clamping her arms around him and preventing him from leaving.
Why are you letting him leave? the voice in her head demanded.
It's been four days, she replied, We're not married. Of course he's allowed to leave.
But you hate it, the voice said insistently.
That's not the point, she told it with finality in her tone.
You never even asked him to stay, the voice protested. What if he hates the idea of leaving just as much as you do?
She ignored the voice, knowing that that wasn't the case. How did she know? She just did.
Forcing himself to break eye contact, he turned around and pushed the door open, letting himself back out into the cool night air. It felt even colder outside that it had earlier, but that could just have been the contrast with being inside, snuggled up with Jane on the couch where he'd been a few minutes before, he told himself.
Where you'd be right now, if you were smarter, the voice in his head told him.
That's not helping, he told the voice, and then tried determinedly to ignore it after that.
Inside, Jane picked up her bag and heaved it onto her shoulder, dragging herself upstairs.
One thing at a time, she told herself, attempting to stay calm, one second at a time.
She dreaded seeing the bare walls of her bedroom once again after spending four days away from them. Pausing in the doorway just as Kurt had done on Friday night, she found everything exactly as she'd left it. It was all just as depressing as before, but more so now that there was something else to compare it to. The last time she'd been there, she hadn't known anything different except for her first safe house. Now, of course, all that had changed.
With a sigh, she dropped the bag on the floor by the wall, fished out her toiletries and then quickly got herself ready for bed. Not even bothering with finding pajamas, she stripped off her jeans and long sleeved shirt with a sigh and crawled into bed in her sports bra and underwear. It had been an exhausting weekend. Amazing, emotionally draining and yet also emotional in the most positive way at the same time. Really, there were no words to describe how much it had meant to her – which, of course, made being back in her safe house even harder.
If she'd still been back in Clearfield with Kurt, there was a pretty good chance that she'd have gotten a good night sleep. Yes, she'd had one nightmare there, but that was so far below her average, even one bad one was far better than usual.
She'd somehow forgotten that she usually avoided sleep before that weekend away, that is until she dragged herself into bed. Now, as she lay there in the absolute stillness, it all came rushing back to her. Instinctively, she clamped her eyes tightly shut, but the feeling of dread that came over her as soon as they were closed was so overpowering that within seconds she was staring at the ceiling, willing herself not to fall asleep.
Welcome back to reality, the voice in her head said ominously, making her shudder.
To pass the time, she began counting the cracks in the ceiling, anything to give her mind something to do. The problem was, this monotonous activity was mindless and relatively soothing, so without meaning to, she lulled herself into drowsiness. Not more than thirty minutes after she'd promised herself that she would stay awake, she had fallen asleep.
Kurt reached his apartment, bringing the two duffle bags, the sleeping bag and very carefully, the small box containing Taylor's wishes, inside in one trip. That only left the box of games, which remained in the car for the time being. As he set his things down wearily, he looked around. Everything was exactly the way he had left it, and yet… it felt wrong. After all, how could everything be the same as it had been before, when he felt so different? Smiling slightly, he realized that Jane had said that she'd felt something similar when she'd come into his apartment on Friday night.
How can I feel out of place somewhere that had been my home for years, and where I was perfectly comfortable just a few days ago? he wondered. He simply couldn't fight the feeling that something was missing.
Or someone, the voice suggested.
That's ridiculous, he told himself. That doesn't happen in a weekend. And yet, even as he was thinking that it was impossible, he was wondering if it might somehow be true.
You're right, the voice in his head assured him sarcastically, obviously not buying a word he was saying. You're just tired. You had a very emotional weekend, with both extreme highs and lows. You'll be fine once you've had some sleep.
He wanted to believe that that was all it was, but deep down he had a suspicion that there was more to it. A lot more. Though he didn't want to admit it to himself, he knew that it had to do with Jane.
Just go to bed, he told himself. What you need is some sleep. You'll be up again in just a few hours and back in the office – you should sleep while you can.
It made sense logically, even though he had a nagging feeling that simply sleep wasn't going to solve what was bothering him. Still, without another good option, he decided to get ready for bed. Leaving everything where he'd set it down except the duffle bag with his clothes, he made his way tiredly to his bedroom. Once there, he put his bag down in a corner and fished through it only long enough to find his toothbrush, walking robotically to the bathroom with it.
Walking back into his room a few minutes later, he was almost surprised to find it empty. You're an idiot, Weller. Who exactly were you expecting? he asked himself in annoyance. The answer was No one, of course. He knew there was no one else in his apartment with him. And yet, he couldn't but think of Friday night, when he'd been packing clothes for both of them and she'd been sitting down on the bed watching him. Somehow he managed to shake the image from his mind, but it wasn't easy.
As soon as he did, it was replaced with a new one, which stayed even more stubbornly stuck in his head. This one was walking back into the bedroom in Clearfield and finding Jane there, which had happened quite a few times over the few days they'd been there. The fact that she wasn't here this time was already distressing him, and he'd only been home less than five minutes.
Get a grip, already, he told himself. Just go to sleep.
Not having any company for the first time in several nights, this time he stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. He tossed and turned for much longer than usual, unable to get comfortable or get his mind to turn off. Finally, sure that it must be time to get up, already, he was dismayed to see that the clock across the room on his dresser said that it was only 2:57 am. Frustrated and exhausted, he made the conscious decision to close his eyes, determined to make himself sleep. Of course, it didn't really work like that, which was the problem, and only a few minutes later he knew that he had to try something else.
Telling himself to think of something relaxing, he immediately saw Jane's face behind his eyelids. However, the particular image of her that sprang to mind was the way she'd looked when he'd left her at her door a few hours before, and her expression wasn't exactly one that was going to help him relax… On the contrary, the tension that was behind the smile that she'd been forcing at the time now seemed obvious to him.
Dammit, Jane, he mumbled, sitting up in bed and swinging his feet to the floor. How did I not realize it before? he wondered in frustration. Of course she wasn't going to say anything… God, but I'm a dumbass.
Since it was suddenly obvious to him that he was not going to get any sleep, he stood up and went to his dresser for clean clothes.
Jane sat up in bed, gasping for air. She'd had one of those dreams again. Not like the one that had driven her out into the snow in Clearfield, thank goodness, but one of the ones that she commonly had here at her safe house… far more often than she had admitted to Kurt. Forcing her eyes open, she stared at the ceiling again, trying to catch her breath.
It's not real, she told herself, feeling herself shaking as she scooted back towards the headboard, pulling herself to sit up and then drawing her legs up in front of her tightly with her left arm, clutching the blanket tightly in her right.
Resting her forehead against her knees for a long enough to take several deep breaths, she looked up again and scanned her room. There didn't seem to be any danger… Glancing at the bedside table, she was relieved to see that despite how tired she'd been when she'd gotten home, she'd remembered to bring her phone upstairs with her. Reaching her left arm out for it, she touched the screen several times without hesitation and then brought it to her ear.
As he closed the door of his car behind him and reached for his seatbelt, he was surprised to hear his phone buzz in his pocket. Who in the world is calling me at 3:08 in the morning? Unless… No way, he thought.
Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he pulled it out and just smiled when he saw the display. It was Jane, of course. And yes, the fact that she was calling him meant that something was wrong, but it also meant that she was admitting that something was wrong. It also meant that they'd been thinking of each other… at the same time.
"I'm already on my way, Jane," he said warmly into the phone.
At the other end of the phone, huddled in a ball at the end of her bed, Jane was shaking, clutching the blankets to her. Even so, she suddenly felt like she could breathe just a little easier when she heard his voice.
Just a few more minutes, she told herself, closing her eyes and then wincing at the images she saw there. Just a few more minutes. She set her phone down on the bed beside her, feeling as though keeping it close to her was, in some strange way, like keeping him close to her… at least until he was actually there.