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 know, I know, you guys… it was mean of me to stop where I did. It wasn't on purpose, I swear! I got the last chapter done and posted right before I went on my Blindspot adventure in NYC with my friend MonkeyPajamas (if you are on Twitter, we posted lots of pictures, most of which are tagged with the hashtag BlindspotAdventure). We visited a lot of filming locations, including the spot in Times Square where they filmed the beginning of the pilot. It was amazing. Anyway, I'm really sorry for the delay in getting this chapter done, but I'm back home now and I'm going to get Jane and Kurt through December – hopefully before weget through March! I was going to say that I wrote an extra-long chapter to make up for the wait, but then again, I think most of my chapters can be considered extra-long… :) Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
She woke up stiff, groggy and disoriented. Her back and shoulders felt like they were on fire when she moved, and her head pounded. For the few seconds before she opened her eyes, she struggled to figure out where she was. Finding even opening her eyes difficult, as her entire face felt puffy, she managed to slowly turn her head to the right, finding rough cotton beneath her cheek. Her eyes slowly blinked open and it was only when she managed to lift her head that she realized where she was.
There in front of her lay Kurt. His face was covered in scrapes and bruises, his arms were bandaged in several locations and, as he had the night before, he lay back against the pillow, eyes closed. The monitor beside his bed continued to beep rhythmically.
The previous night, she'd almost been able to tell herself that he was just sleeping. Now, however, she was dismayed to see that he was still unconscious, not appearing to have moved a muscle since the last time she looked at him. Tears once again leaked out of her eyes against her will, and she felt the ache in her chest intensifying until she wondered if the expression heartbreak had an actual basis in fact. It was all she could do to hope that she wouldn't have to find out for herself.
Just then the door opened, and just like the night before, Jane ignored the sound. "Good morning," a cautiously cheerful voice greeted her, coming to stand facing her on the other side of Kurt. "I'm Alicia, and I'm going to be Mr. Weller's nurse today. Natalie told me that you had a rough night. These chairs definitely weren't designed for sleeping in…" She paused, and Jane looked up at her blankly. She'd heard what Alicia had said to her, she just couldn't force herself to respond beyond eye contact. The dark haired nurse smiled at her sympathetically.
"I brought you some water," she told Jane, pointing to a small table by the end of the bed. "Most people who're here with someone forget to take care of themselves." Jane smiled weakly as best she could, and she could feel even more tears falling down her cheeks.
"Thanks," she forced herself to whisper, silently begging Alicia not to ask her if she was Kurt's wife. She didn't think she could take that a second time.
Mercifully, Alicia just stared at the screen on the machine that was beeping, wrote down a few things on the clipboard she was holding, and then smiled at Jane once again, her eyes full of sympathy. "Have you tried talking to him?" she asked.
Jane looked back at her in surprise, wondering if she'd misunderstood. Talking to someone who was unconscious? It had never occurred to her.
"Really?" Jane asked. "Does that work?"
"We don't know for sure, but sometimes it seems to," Alicia told her. "And it certainly can't hurt, can it?" she asked, still smiling kindly at Jane.
"Uh… okay…" Jane stammered, still surprised.
The nurse moved towards the door, looking over her shoulder as she left. "You never know," she told Jane with a smile, and then she was gone, closing the door behind her.
Jane stared at the door, still holding Kurt's hand in hers, and then slowly turned back to look at him. He looked exactly like he had a second before, lying still on the bed in front of her. Well… why not? Jane thought. But… what do I say?
"Hey, Kurt, enough is enough," she said in a loud whisper, trying to keep her voice steady but already feeling it falter. "Stop being so dramatic. If you want attention, just tell me." She stared at him hard, not really expecting anything to happen, but at the same time hoping against hope that this would be the moment that he would wake up, so that she could look in his eyes and see that he was okay. Several seconds went by and nothing happened, and she sighed heavily. Leaning forward again, she lifted his hand in both of hers, just high enough so she could rest her elbows against the bed beside him, and then held his hand against her cheek.
"You are so stubborn," she told him quietly, pretending to be annoyed. "But I'm more stubborn than you are. I know you don't like to admit defeat, but that's the truth. And you know I'm not going anywhere until you wake up, so you'd better get to work on that. Because the nurses are going to get sick of watching me sit here and watch you. So why don't you save us all the trouble and just wake up already, okay?"
She'd choked out more words than she'd expected to be able to, though she couldn't claim that her voice had been steady. Still, if there was even a chance that it would help, she had no hesitation about doing it. Whatever it took.
There was silence when she stopped talking, the only sound in the room was the sound of the machine, still beeping steadily by the head of the bed. Jane let out a heavy sigh, not sure what else to say. Then suddenly, when she stopped trying so hard, her eyes closed and she pressed his hand harder against her cheek, and the words just began spilling out. All joking had gone out of her voice, and all that was left was desperation.
"Kurt, come on… I don't know how long I can do this. I just… I don't remember what it was like before I knew you. It sounds like a cheesy line, I know, but it's literally true. You're the first person whose name I remembered. The first one who treated me like a human being, and not a freak, from the very first day. And even after everything we've been through… Well… I already know…"
She felt her throat closing around the words, and emotion threatened to overwhelm her, but she was determined to continue. "…I already know what it's like to lose you. I… I can't do that again… I can't." Her eyes remained closed, her face contorting in pain, as the tightness in her chest grew even more acute. She sat there, still holding his hand against her cheek, perfectly still, just trying to remember to breathe.
In and out. In and out.
I can't do this.
I can't do this.
Yes… you can.
She was so lost in thought, and in the squeezing sensation in her chest, that she almost didn't feel the slight movement against her cheek. It was so small, it would have been easy to discount it as her own hand shifting against his, causing his hand to shift, too… Except, the movement was more like the way he usually brushed his finger against her cheek. So even though she knew that it was nothing, she forced herself to open her eyes slowly, dreading what she knew that she would see – Kurt laying in the bed in front of her, looking exactly the way he had the last time she'd looked.
Except that that wasn't what she saw. Instead, to her surprise, she saw his eyes slowly blinking open, and after a few seconds, focusing on her.
"Jane," he said in a hoarse whisper.
Jane, of course, was once again beside herself, this time even more overwhelmed. The crushing fear and desperation that she'd been feeling for hours and hours didn't just disappear of course, and it was now joined by relief and happiness that were equally strong. She made a noise that was somewhere between laughing and crying, and once again, tears poured from her eyes far faster than she could have stopped them if she had tried – which she didn't.
"Hey," she whispered between gasps for breath, "it's about time you woke up." Kurt smiled at her weakly, attempting to chuckle but then stopping abruptly and appearing to be in pain.
"Ssshhh, don't," Jane said, releasing her left hand from his and placing it lightly against his chest, a gesture to tell him to relax. "I think they said you had a few broken ribs, among other things…"
"Yeah, feels like it," Kurt replied in a low whisper, groaning slightly. Then, looking at her and focusing on the tears falling down her face, he said in dismay, "You're crying again…"
She couldn't help but smile through her tears, thinking back to their conversation in which he'd told her that he didn't like to see her cry. It felt like so long ago, even though she knew that it wasn't.
"Sorry," she whispered, attempting to smile at him, to which he just shook his head.
"What happened, anyway? I remember I went with the tech back into the warehouse, and then… I don't know..." It was all hazy to him, though he felt like he should be able to remember.
"There was an explosion," Jane told him. "I don't really know what happened… Reade, Zapata and I were still outside the warehouse. I don't know if they have any leads. I've been… a little out of the loop since it happened. I've… I've been here since then… With you."
She looked at him sheepishly, knowing that she was admitting to him that she'd been so worried that she hadn't left his side. Of course, it wasn't a bad thing, but since things between them had changed so fast, she didn't know whether or not she should feel self-conscious about the way she'd reacted to his injury. Not that she'd done it consciously, of course, but now that she could see that he was okay, she was realizing just how distraught she had been…
"You've been here since then?" he asked in surprise, his voice still hoarse. "Was that…" He was struggling to remember. "Yesterday?" The look on his face told her that he'd already put it together, and she felt increasingly self-conscious.
"Yeah. We got here in the ambulance around five, and they didn't let me back here to see you until… I don't even know. I think it was past midnight…" Scoffing slightly, she nodded, suddenly reliving the pain of the last eighteen or so hours. "So… I was in the waiting room until they let me in here… Patterson brought me some clothes to change into when she came to relieve Reade, who'd been sitting with me. It's been… I was so…" Her voice cracked, and tears sprang to her eyes, after having stopped for the past minute or so. Her eyes closed of their own accord, pushing still more tears down her cheeks.
He wanted to be upset with her for not taking better care of herself, except he knew that he would have done exactly the same thing if their situation had been reversed. The fact that she was clearly so emotional about everything that had happened only reminded him of just how intense their last few days had been…
And how much he loved her.
His hand was still against her cheek, anchored by hers, but his thumb was free to move. Swiping it gently against her skin, he could feel the tension in her even just through her face as he wiped at what seemed to be a never ending supply of tears.
"Hey," he whispered. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. I'm fine."
She nodded quickly, the nod that said that she didn't quite believe him. Of course, she wanted to, but after the events of the past day, it was difficult. They'd both been hurt on the job before, but this was a much closer call than most, and the first one since things between them had gotten so serious. Sitting there, unable to do nothing but hope that he would wake up had reminded her of exactly how risky it was to do what they did – it was one thing to know that in theory, but it was another thing to sit in the hospital beside Kurt while he lay unconscious, not knowing when he would wake up. If he would wake up.
Her hand had loosened its grip over his, and he slid it out from under hers, around to the back of her neck, then to her upper back, pulling her closer until her head rested against his shoulder. He wished that he could hold onto her tighter, but any movements beyond that reminded him just how many injuries he had sustained. He felt her breathing gradually slow down to normal as she relaxed, and he couldn't help but smile. How could he not? After all, his arm was around her, only thin fabric separating his fingers from where his name was on her skin, and she was close to him. Really, that was all that mattered. That, and that they were both alive, despite the bomber's intentions, whatever they had been.
The door opened then, and then closed again a few seconds later. "Good morning, Mr. Weller," said the nurse that Jane recognized as Alicia. "My name is Alicia, and I'll be your nurse today. I'm glad to see that you're with us again."
"Me, too," he replied. "Trust me."
Alicia stepped toward the monitor on the other side of the bed, once again making notes on her clipboard. Jane had turned her head to look at Alicia, though still leaning against Kurt. Looking at Jane kindly, the nurse said, "We're going to need to assess Mr. Weller's condition, now that he's awake. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to wait in the waiting room for a little while."
Kurt felt Jane stiffen slightly, but she nodded her head, still against his shoulder. "Okay," she replied hesitantly.
"Hey," Kurt whispered from beside her. As Jane turned to look back at him, he leaned forward just enough to kiss her cheek. This ensured that, by the time she was looking at him, she was smiling again, despite the tears that were still flowing from her eyes. "It's okay," he said, just as quietly.
Nodding at him, she leaned her forehead against his for just a second before moving back, despite how badly she wanted to stay close to him. Staring at him for another few seconds, she finally forced herself to stand up in the small space, moving slowly.
"I see that you didn't drink the water I brought you," Alicia observed. She said it merely as a fact, not a criticism. "Take it with you, please, and drink it. You're sure to be dehydrated by now. And take this time to maybe go downstairs and get some food. I promise I won't take any longer than I have to, and then you can come back in. Okay?"
Jane nodded, wishing Kurt hadn't just heard the nurse give evidence that she hadn't been taking care of herself. It was the kind of thing he would have said, as well.
Moving slowly, water in hand, Jane moved towards the door. She glanced back over her shoulder before she closed the door behind her, and her eyes met Kurt's once again. When she saw him smile at her, she managed to smile back, immediately feeling calmer despite the fact that she was being sent out of the room.
Back in the waiting room, she sat down in the same chair she'd occupied for hours the night before, and began typing on her phone keypad. She sent a group text to Patterson, Zapata and Reade which read, "He's awake. Seems okay. They're examining him now."
Not expecting a response, Jane turned off her screen, only to have it light up and buzz with vibration only seconds later. "Great!" came the text back from Patterson, followed closely by almost the same from Zapata. "We'll see you both later," Reade's reply, followed not more than a minute later.
Smiling to herself in surprise, Jane marveled at how different she felt from the last time she'd sat in that same spot. She'd been desperate before, but now she was almost calm. She'd seen him with her own eyes, not only seen him but talked to him, heard his voice… He was badly injured, but he was going to be okay, and that was what mattered most.
Her foot tapped absently against the floor, beating out a steady, impatient rhythm as she waited to be allowed to go back to Kurt's room. As she sat there, she even managed to drink the water that Alicia had ordered her to take with her. She wasn't sure of how long it had been, or what time it was besides just "dark," but there was a hint of light in the sky through a window across the hall. Therefore, she had no concept of how long it had been when an elevator dinged in the distance, and a minute later, Zapata sat down beside her.
"Hey, Jane," she said, nudging Jane's arm with her elbow, and then immediately pressing a cup of coffee into her hand. "I thought you could use this."
Jane smiled gratefully, taking the coffee. "Thanks," she whispered, wondering how she'd gotten there so fast.
"Patterson said you got to see Weller, and we got your text. Did you sleep at all?" Zapata asked as Jane sipped her coffee. From the way Jane looked, Zapata was pretty sure that it must have been a rough night.
Jane shook her head. "Yeah," she said, "They let me go back to his room after midnight. I was sitting in the chair next to his bed and just kind of… fell asleep hunched over in the chair. It wasn't comfortable, but it was something."
Zapata just nodded. She'd been there herself, in the past, and it was never easy. In their line of work, sitting in hospital waiting rooms was a reality that happened more often than it did for most other people. After all, there was a better than average chance that someone they knew would get hurt.
As Jane took another sip of her coffee, she was surprised when the other woman handed her a small paper bag. Jane looked up at her questioningly, and Zapata replied simply, "Breakfast." When Jane still looked confused, Zapata added, "We all know you didn't eat anything last night, and God help us if Weller hears that you're not eating. None of us will hear the end of it. Trust me, this is for the good of all of us."
Jane just nodded, though she was surprised at how much thought Zapata had put into it. She could see Kurt being upset about Jane's failing to eat, but she hadn't realized that it was something that could be considered anyone else's fault but her own. It felt nice to think that someone cared about her that much, and it was definitely a feeling that she wasn't used to. Maybe Zapata was just being nice to her to keep Kurt from stressing out, but even so, she appreciated the gesture. After all, she didn't have to do anything for her… and after everything that Jane had done, she wouldn't have blamed Zapata for holding a grudge.
"Thanks," Jane said, peering into the bag to find a bagel, a muffin and a croissant. "Wow," she added. "There's a lot in here."
Zapata just shrugged. "I wasn't sure what you liked," she reasoned. "Besides, you skipped dinner last night. Eat it all."
"I'll start with one," Jane said cautiously, thinking that she didn't even feel hungry, even now. She instinctively cursed herself and, after a pause, Keaton as well. Mostly, however, she felt a surge of self-loathing for the fact that she still didn't even have the normal human reaction to not eating, which was hunger. How long would it take until she felt like she could escape the shadow of her time with the CIA? The scars on her skin would fade, but what about the ways that she was damaged inside?
Again, Zapata nodded. She knew the feeling of not being able to eat, of being sick with worry over a loved one's condition, which was what she assumed that Jane was suffering from, not realizing that it was more than that. While she knew that she and Jane hadn't exactly been close since Jane had been back, she still hoped that her presence helped in the same way that others' presence had helped her when she'd been the one waiting for news in the past. After all, she knew how hard it was, waiting to hear about friends who'd been injured in the line of duty. Of course, it wasn't quite the same… none of those friends had ever been to her what Weller was to Jane, of course. Still, she understood, at least in theory.
Just then, breaking through the wave of self-pity that had washed over her along with the realization that she didn't want to eat, Jane heard Kurt's voice in her head.
You're doing fine, Jane, he told her in a smooth voice. It's going to be okay.
Jane choked back a noise that was somewhere between surprise and relief, but which sounded more like a sob, and smiled even though she felt tears in her eyes again. Blinking slowly and taking a deep breath, she struggled to regain her composure so that she didn't break down in front of Zapata. Things were thawing between them, but that didn't mean she was comfortable being as emotional as she felt just then in front of her.
Slowly, Jane drew out the croissant from the bag and broke off a piece, bringing it to her mouth. She expected it to be utterly tasteless, like cardboard or sawdust, but instead, she was surprised to note that it actually tasted good. It had the buttery flavor and the flaky texture that she knew that it was supposed to have. Smiling in spite of herself, she nodded. "It's good," she told Zapata in surprise, after swallowing the first bite.
"Good," Zapata said, glad to hear that at least one of her guesses had been right. "Now eat the rest of it. It's not enough, but it's a start." When Jane hesitated, looking down at the floor, Zapata added, "Seriously, don't make me tell Weller that you were refusing to eat. I think we both know he won't like that."
"That's low," Jane mumbled, but smiled slightly to herself, breaking off another piece of the croissant and chewing it slowly, then sipping her coffee. Zapata nursed her own coffee, watching every person who came into the waiting room for any sign that they were heading their way with news about their boss' condition. The two women sat in silence after that, Zapata staring at the people coming through the waiting room and Jane keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.
Finally, Alicia reappeared in front of Jane and Zapata. Jane, who was still staring at the floor, focused on her coffee and trying not to think about what felt like the interminable wait before she could see Kurt again, didn't notice her. Zapata, on the other hand, stared at her intently, convinced that this woman had come to tell them something.
"You two are waiting for Mr. Weller, right?" she asked. When Jane's head snapped up to look at her, Alicia continued. "If you'd like, you can follow me." When Jane and Zapata exchanged hesitant glances, Alicia just smiled. "Sorry, yes, both of you," she added. "The doctor said that he's now cleared to have more than one visitor at a time."
Jane felt a surge of happiness. Not specifically because anyone else could go in to see Kurt at the same time as she could, though of course she didn't want to monopolize him. Well, actually she did want to monopolize him, if she was being honest, but she knew that she shouldn't. But no, she was happy about what the loosening of Kurt's visitor restrictions meant for his health – if he weren't doing well, they wouldn't have allowed them both to go and see him. That meant that his prognosis must be good, and there was nothing that could make her happier than that.
Jane trailed directly behind Alicia, Zapata only a few steps behind, back along the route to Kurt's room. Alicia opened the door for them, but this time Jane hung back in the doorway, nodding at Zapata to go in first.
At the sound of the door opening, Kurt looked up. They'd told him that his visitors would be allowed to come back in – Visitors? As in, more than one? He'd wondered who was out there besides Jane. After all, she was definitely one of the visitors, since she would have had to have been forcibly removed from the hospital before she would have left. He smiled easily when he saw her, even when she remained in the doorway, letting Zapata enter the room. After all, the room was really tight, already crowded with even one visitor. Just seeing Jane across the room made him happy.
Jane watched as Zapata walked toward the bed, and she simultaneously felt envy and warmth. Of course it was good that Zapata had some time with Kurt. They'd worked together for a long time, and Jane knew that Zapata had been worried about him just like she had. Well, maybe not just like she had, but deeply, in her own way. The team was like family – they had been since before Jane had come along, after all. Jane stood and leaned wearily against the doorframe, holding her coffee and the bag that Zapata had brought her, now containing only a muffin and a bagel.
"Weller, I swear to God," Zapata whispered angrily as she approached her boss' bed. "If you ever pull that shit again, I'm going to kill you myself." Her words may have been threatening, but her tone and her expression reflected the relief that she felt to see Weller in one piece. They'd each been on both sides of this situation in the past, and both of them knew how it felt to be in the other's shoes.
Kurt smiled slightly, wincing as he moved just a little too much to one side, which put pressure on his broken ribs. "Trust me, Zapata," he groaned, "it wasn't exactly my idea of a fun day." Zapata sat down on the chair, leaning forward to smile with relief at Kurt, then suddenly glancing back over her shoulder to see what had happened to Jane. Seeing her looking into the room from the door, Zapata turned back quickly to look at Kurt, only to find him looking past her at Jane as well.
Jane watched from the door, not even focusing on the words that the other two were saying to each other. She sipped her coffee absently, waiting patiently for her turn. Since she didn't plan to leave anytime soon, she didn't mind letting Zapata have Kurt's attention for the time being. She could have moved closer, she knew, but the room was crowded and since Zapata had the chair, it was easier to hold herself up against the door frame. After all, at this point she was pretty much running on fumes. As she leaned against the door frame, she let her eyes fall closed, enjoying just knowing that she was in the room with Kurt. She preferred to see him, of course, but her eyes suddenly felt like they needed to rest.
Maybe for just a minute… she thought.
The next thing she knew, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she forced her eyes open again. Zapata was standing in front of her, looking at her with concern.
"Falling asleep standing up?" Zapata asked. "Jane, take the chair by Weller. I'm heading into the office. There's a lot of work to do on his case." Then, in Weller's direction over Jane's shoulder, Zapata called, "Because Weller had to go get himself blown up, and now the rest of us have extra work to do." Again, her words didn't match her tone, and she grinned at him.
"Bye, Zapata," he called. "Thanks for coming by." And then, in a more authoritative tone, he added, "Now go get back to work." They both smiled at his mock seriousness.
"Feel better, boss," Zapata replied. Then, as she passed Jane on her way through the door, she smiled and said, "For God's sake, Jane, go sit down before you fall down. I'll see you later, both of you. Okay?"
Jane nodded, adding, "Thanks, Zapata," softly. Zapata just nodded at her, then watched her make her way across the crowded room to the chair.
As Jane moved closer to Kurt, slowly approaching the chair she'd been in overnight, she could feel the smile on her face growing. Sitting down beside him, she didn't even notice that Zapata was still standing in the doorway. All she could think was how grateful she was that it was now her turn to sit by Kurt once again. It was silly, she knew, but she felt herself breathe easier just being in close proximity to him. She could ignore the ache in her head from the combination of lack of sleep and emotional upheaval, the puffy stiffness in her face from hours spent crying, and the discomfort that came from sitting, and sleeping, in uncomfortable chairs. None of that mattered – as long as she could see him and see that he was okay, that he was looking back at her with a concerned smile that probably matched her own, she was alright.
Exhaustion and worry were hitting her hard, and Kurt could see it in her face. Though he knew it was ridiculous, he felt guilty for putting her through so much in the past twenty-four hours. Hasn't she been through enough, after all? Of course, he hadn't done it on purpose, but that didn't stop him from wishing that he could do something to make her feel better.
"Hey," he greeted her warmly, the look in his eyes one of relief that matched her own, "you okay?"
"Yeah," she replied, smiling despite how completely exhausted she felt, and sinking into the chair beside him as she reached for his hand. "So I guess the nurse gave you a passing grade, since you were allowed more than one visitor," she observed.
"I guess so," he agreed, nodding slowly as he smiled back at her. "Too bad the room doesn't really fit more than one visitor." They both chuckled softly at his joke, quiet for a minute. He could see that she fell a little short of being okay, as she claimed to be, but he knew that there was absolutely nothing anyone would be able to do short of knocking her out and carrying her there themselves to get her to go home and rest. Not as long as he was in the hospital. After all, that was how he would've been in her place, if it had been her in that bed.
Zapata smiled at the two of them. She'd seen them together at work the day before, but this was very different. Somehow, it seemed like their weekend away had changed things between them significantly. Of course, it had been obvious to everyone except Weller how he'd felt about her a long time ago, but after everything… It seemed like they'd finally gotten themselves to a good place. Despite her misgivings about Jane after she'd come back to the FBI, Zapata had to admit that the two seemed to be good for each other. Slipping out the door quietly, she closed it behind her and set off for the NYO. After all, there was a lot of work to do.
Moving as slowly as possible to minimize what he suspected would probably be a sharp pain, he braced himself against his right arm, attempting to shift himself to the far side of the bed. He watched concern flash in Jane's eyes, and then felt a stab of pain a second later, pushing through it slowly.
"Hey, stop," she told him, adding, "What are you doing?" Having finished shifting himself as far to the right in the small bed as he could, he looked back at her with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Making room for you," he told her, tugging gently on the hand that he was holding. "I'm not the only one who needs rest."
Jane's eyes widened, and she immediately looked around, as if a doctor or nurse was going to appear out of nowhere and tell her that under no circumstances was she allowed to fit herself into the small space on the bed that Kurt had just created. Seeing no one, she looked back at Kurt unsurely. "I don't think… I mean…"
With his right hand, Kurt pressed a button that reclined the bed, bringing it almost flat, and changing the angle at which they were looking at each other. Now that he looked more like he was laying down, Jane suddenly felt even more tired.
"Come on… Who knows how long it'll be before they want to check on me again. It might be a while, it might not… In the meantime, we can have a little nap." When Jane looked at him skeptically, he shook his head at her. "You're telling me you don't think anyone else has ever done that before? Taken a little nap on a hospital bed next to a patient? Besides, what's the worst that can happen? They tell you to get up?"
When he put it that way, he made it sound perfectly logical, she couldn't help but think, and she could feel her hesitation wearing away quickly. As exhausted as she was, it wasn't going to take much more convincing…
She felt a tug on her hand again, and looked down to see his eyes drifting closed. It made her eyelids feel heavy just watching him, and that was all it took. She let go of his hand and pulled herself up, out of the chair, very slowly and carefully climbing onto the side of the bed, lowering herself down on her right side in the small space that he had created on the edge. He was still laying on his back, because of his injuries, but he turned his head toward her, leaning his face against the top of her head as she nestled hers against his shoulder.
Her right arm was folded under her head, and her left hand reached up to his. She didn't want to rest her hand on him, for fear of putting pressure somewhere that would hurt him, so instead she tugged his hand towards her, snuggling close to him and tucking their interlocked fingers under her chin.
It was cramped, yes, but it was so much better than being in the chair. She wasn't sure how Alicia or anyone else would react, or, when she stopped to think about it, how she even felt about the fact that she'd just climbed into his hospital bed with him… but just then she was so tired, so relieved that he was alive, and so drunk on the high she felt just from being close to him, that she simply couldn't make herself care what anyone else thought. She would worry about that later... if it became necessary.
Within seconds, she could feel herself drifting off to sleep, and she wondered if he already had as well. As if to answer her question, she felt him kiss the top of her head, then heard him whisper quietly, "Let's get some sleep, okay?" She nodded against him, the only response she had the energy left for, and after that her breathing evened out as she fell asleep, a smile on her face. The last twenty or so hours had felt like a nightmare, but this… this may well have been heaven, as imperfect as it was.
He was safe, and alive, and close enough that she could reassure herself of both of these facts without having to move. That was all that mattered.
In some other, more perfect life, she would have slept soundly for at least a few hours. However, Jane had never had that kind of life or that kind of luck. She was accustomed to nightmares, and had been for as long as she could remember, though that still wasn't very long. So far, they'd always been the same kinds – either they'd been about the CIA black site, or Sandstorm, or occasionally, her life as Remi. Though they weren't always clear, she could always trace them back to something related to one or more of those sources. Of course, she didn't remember if she'd ever had nightmares as a child – though with what she knew about her childhood, it seemed impossible that she hadn't, at some point.
Because of this, the nightmare that she had after falling asleep beside Kurt was unlike any that she could remember having. There was no Keaton, no CIA black site, no Oscar or Shepherd or Sandstorm or Phase Two… What there was was darkness. All she knew in her dream was that something had happened to Kurt – she didn't even know what, only that she couldn't find him, and that was enough to terrify her. In her dream she was screaming his name, over and over, and loudly as she could, stumbling along in the darkness and bumping into strange shapes in her path, none of which she could identify. None of them were Kurt. He seemed to be nowhere to be found.
Finally, after her voice was hoarse and she'd collapsed on the ground, light began to filter in from what appeared to be a distant horizon. Slowly, she began to make out shapes of things around her – though it didn't help much. Somehow, even with the slowly increasing brightness in the distance, it still wasn't even clear if she was inside or outside. This didn't make sense to her, but the panic that she felt overshadowed her confusion.
She could now see the obstacles that she'd been bumping into, but she still couldn't make out what they actually were. Her eyes continued to dart nervously around, slowly taking in more and more of her surroundings as the light grew brighter. That was when she saw him. Kurt. Far off in the distance, and, to her dismay, lying on the ground.
Standing up and running as fast as she could, attempting to scream his name once more despite the fact that she had no voice left with which to do so, she was at his side in seconds, collapsing on the ground beside him. She pressed her fingers against his neck to check his pulse, her ear against his chest to listen for his heartbeat, and, getting nothing from either of those, shook his shoulders in desperation, trying to speak into his ear while sobbing bitterly, all in an attempt to wake him up.
The result of each of these attempts was the same: nothing. He had no pulse, no heartbeat that she could hear, and no reaction to anything she said or did. Whatever had happened, she was too late.
The sadness that overtook her was instant and immeasurable, beyond anything she'd ever felt before. Worse even than seeing him after the explosion or riding with him in the ambulance or waiting in that hospital waiting room. After all, those times had been terrifying, but she'd clung desperately to hope. This time… there was no hope. She'd simply been too late, and now he was gone… and it was her fault. Whatever had happened, that much she knew.
Collapsing forward over him, she screamed with everything inside her – and that was a very significant amount of anger, frustration and despair.
That was when she finally woke up. She was startled to go from that place of earsplitting noise to, all of a sudden, almost complete silence. Once again, the only noise in the room was the rhythmic beeping of the machine on the other side of Kurt's bed, and suddenly, Jane's now heavy, terrified gasps for breath. Before she even had a chance to open her eyes, Kurt's voice was in her ears. It wasn't just that she was hearing his voice in her head. At least, she didn't think so…
She didn't even focus on the words, only on the fact that she could hear his voice.
Kurt! But he was…
No, she told herself. A dream. Oh my God, it was a dream. The realization washed over her like a strong ocean current, and she felt as though she'd been knocked over with relief.
"Jane." Kurt was talking urgently, speaking in her direction and holding on tightly to her hand. "Jane, it's okay, you're safe. I promise," he was telling her. The first time she heard his voice, she thought it was all just a trick of her imagination, and she shook her head hard against the pain in her heart. Despite the fact that she could hear him saying her name, she couldn't make that feeling of loss go away.
She struggled to catch her breath as she opened her eyes, relieved to see that he was really there, squeezing her hand. The surge of emotion she felt then was overwhelming, and without warning, she suddenly pushed herself to sit up, turning around and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. In order to turn that direction, she was forced to let go of his hand, and she clutched both hands around the metal frame under the mattress on either side of her, still gasping for air. Just a few seconds later, she felt his hand on her left shoulder, which was the side closest to him, and she felt herself immediately begin to relax. His hand slid down her arm, then back up again, over and over in a soothing motion.
He wanted to do something more to comfort her, because as far as he could tell this nightmare had been even worse than the others that he'd seen her have over the past week. However, thanks to his injuries, it was hard for him to move very much. He managed to reach her shoulder, squeezing gently before running his hand down her arm, then back up again. Her muscles seemed to relax slightly right away, to his relief, so he continued doing what he was doing, moving his hand up and down her arm as far as he could reach.
She had unclenched her hands from the bedframe now, instead digging her elbows into her legs, then hunching forward and holding her head in her hands. For lack of a better release for all of the pent up emotion inside her, she sobbed long and hard.
Feeling like his hand on her arm was not enough, slowly, and with great effort as well as help from the bed whose position he could control, Kurt managed to sit himself up far enough to reach his hand to the middle of her back. Once there, he rubbed slow circles and spoke soothingly to her, unsure if she could even hear him over the noise of her cries and gasps for air. He couldn't sit up far enough to speak near her ear, but he continued nonetheless.
Eventually her tears slowed and she calmed down, turning around to look at him reluctantly, with eyes that were once again puffy and red. It wouldn't have surprised her if they stayed that way permanently, at that point.
"Bad dream, I'm guessing?" he asked quietly, to which she just nodded silently. He reached for her hand, looking at her with worry. "Come here," he said quietly, and she turned around so that she could lean slowly against the mattress beside him once again. Her right shoulder leaned against the semi-reclined bed, her right arm once again tucked behind her head and her left hand floating up to his cheek. She had felt the sudden need to be sure that he was real, and that seemed to best way to be sure. Now it was her thumb moving back and forth across his cheek, and he covered her hand with his, then slowly lowered both of their hands together, so that he could hold it in one of the few spots on the front of him where he wasn't sore.
It was obvious to him that she was shaken up, and even without knowing what her dream had been about, he could sense that this one had been different. He was just beginning to wonder if he should ask her if she wanted to talk about it, when he heard her take a deep breath.
"I've never had a dream like that before," she whispered. "At least…" she paused and rolled her eyes at the familiar words that always left such a bitter taste in her mouth. "…not that I can remember. It wasn't about any of the things I usually dream about – Keaton, Sandstorm... it was nothing like that. It was just darkness. And…" She hesitated, almost embarrassed to tell him that she'd been completely and utterly beside herself over having found him dead in her dream.
If there's anyone who would understand that fear, the voice in her head reassured her soothingly, it's Kurt. He has literally been in that situation. She knew that it was the truth, but even so, it was hard to get the words out.
"And I couldn't find you anywhere… I was stumbling around in the dark, screaming your name, and I kept bumping into things… And then slowly, there was light in the distance, and finally I could see. And I found you." She almost choked on her last few words, shaking her head. "And I don't know what happened, but I was…" Her eyes closed against her will, and she found that, to her dismay, she was crying again.
Enough, already! she thought, wondering if it would always be like this, if she would ever stop feeling like her emotions constantly lay just beneath the surface, ready to burst forth at any moment. "I was too late," she finished in a whisper. Her forehead dropped down gently on his shoulder, and she found that suddenly she couldn't even cry anymore.
Her dream was certainly understandable, considering what had happened the day before, but he hated to see her cry, and he certainly didn't want to see her in so much pain. He squeezed her hand in his, then lifted it so that he could kiss the skin on the back, just below her knuckles.
"It's okay, Jane," he whispered. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
A choked sob escaped from her as she attempted to laugh at his joke, even though it wasn't at all funny to her. If yesterday hadn't been bad enough, she'd just relived the feeling, times a thousand, in her dream. She was now far more exhausted then she'd been when she'd fallen asleep beside him. A glance at the clock told her that it was already mid-morning, and she wasn't sure how she was going to make it through the rest of the day… Not that there was any guarantee that she'd be getting any sleep that night, or any time soon, really, no matter what she did.
He pressed her hand flat against his chest, over his heart, and she recognized the gesture as the same one they'd both used in the past. It wasn't even necessary for either of them to utter the words You're my starting point, because it was understood. Taking a slow, deep breath in, and then exhaling just as slowly, she felt herself begin to relax. Keeping her eyes closed, she took another breath… and another. Finally she was able to open her eyes again, lifting her head slightly to look up at him. He was watching her, she noticed, the expression on his face that same one she craved so much – the one that was so full of love, she now realized, she could see it clearly.
His thumb fanned back and forth against the back of her hand, the rest of his fingers remaining still to hold hers in place, and she smiled at him. It had only been a dream. A horrible dream, but a dream. As if she hadn't had enough reason to appreciate the fact that he was alive after the real events of the day before, she had even more now.
The door swung open then, as they had known that it would sooner or later. Alicia peeked in and then stopped in the doorway, biting her lip as she smiled at them. Jane looked up at her sheepishly, while Kurt looked, as usual for almost any situation when Jane was not in danger, perfectly calm.
"Okay… you two are just too cute," she said, closing the door behind her as she walked in slowly. Jane started to sit up, but Alicia waved her hand at her.
"You're fine, sweetie," she told Jane, "You stay there if you're comfortable. You had a rough night, I know."
You don't know the half of it, Jane thought, feeling Kurt's hand squeeze tighter on top of hers.
"I just need to check on a few things," Alicia mused, looked at the screen beside the bed and nodding approvingly. "Looks good. And how are you feeling, Mr. Weller?"
"Call me Kurt, please," he replied.
Alicia chuckled, nodding her head. "Let me guess. 'Mr. Weller is my father.' Right?" she asked good-naturedly.
Jane winced slightly at the thought of Kurt's father, and she saw the expression on his face change for a split second before he caught himself and the look was gone. Alicia wasn't wrong, of course. Not only was Kurt generally an informal person, but he also wanted to avoid being reminded of his father at all costs. But there was no reason that a random nurse would know just how sensitive a subject his father was, and certainly no reason to tell her.
Kurt just nodded, smiling stiffly. "Pretty much, yeah," he grimaced, and Alicia nodded in reply.
"No problem. So how are you feeling, Kurt?" she asked again, as if it was the first time.
"Like something exploded a couple feet away from me," he replied.
Alicia smiled and rolled her eyes. "A comedian, huh?" she asked.
"Always," Jane interjected. She tried to move her hand off of his chest, slightly embarrassed at suddenly having an audience, but found that Kurt's hand held hers fast.
"Okay, then, let me rephrase the question," Alicia replied. "On a scale of one to ten, what's your pain level?"
Kurt considered the question for a minute. "Maybe… a six?" he replied. "Really, I just feel sore everywhere, and my ribs hurt like hell, and…" He stopped to think about whether anything else was hurting.
"How's your head?" Alicia asked him. "It was hurting before, wasn't it?" As she spoke, she wound a black piece of fabric around his right arm, Velcro-ing it securely in place, so that she could take his blood pressure. He relaxed his arm, letting his hand fall from on top of Jane's without a word. While she knew that it was both necessary and temporary, she couldn't help but feel the loss of his hand on top of hers more acutely than she'd expected.
"Yeah, it was," he agreed, stopping to think. "It doesn't hurt as much. Almost not at all, actually."
Releasing the band around his arm after taking his blood pressure, Alicia nodded and made notes on her clipboard as Kurt's hand returned to its place on top of Jane's. The nurse looked up at him appraisingly, appearing satisfied. "Alright, the doctor will be in in a little while," she told him. "Glad to see that you're making progress. Just call if you need anything, okay?" He nodded, and she disappeared through the door into the hall.
Jane sighed heavily. "Pretty sure I'm going to have to get up before the doctor comes in," she told Kurt, who squeezed her hand again.
"You know what?" he asked her, attempting to change the subject to a happier topic. "I predict I'm going to be discharged from this place by the end of the day."
"Just curious… you do know that you're going to be taking the rest of the week off, right?" she asked, looking at him sternly. "You're not going back to the office until at least next week."
"Is that so?" he asked in amusement. If anyone else had said it to him, he would have taken it as a challenge. Indeed, he hadn't thought ahead to what he was doing the following day, but he certainly hadn't planned on taking the rest of the week off. Maybe the rest of the day… Come to think of it, he had to think hard about what day it was, anyway…
"Yes," she replied seriously. "You were unconscious for more than twelve hours. You have broken ribs. You're not just going right back out there…" She was staring at him intently, and he noticed that she didn't blink or look away. When it came to stubbornness, they were pretty evenly matched.
"Well, today's Thursday… right?" he asked to confirm. "I guess maybe I can handle taking the rest of the week off. When do I get to go back, just out of curiosity?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.
"On Monday, unless the doctor tells you to take more time off. But definitely not before Monday," she said quickly.
"You've been thinking about this," he observed with a grin.
"Maybe a little bit," she said with a shy smile.
"I just have one problem with this arrangement," he told her, the smile on his face making her suspicious.
"What's that?" she asked curiously.
"Well, I don't know if I can take that many days off in a row without someone to keep me company," he said. She was amazed that he could keep a straight face.
"Three days? That's not that long," she replied evenly, her face revealing nothing despite how badly she wanted to smile at him. She could play this game, too, after all.
"You know me," he said innocently, "I'm just not good at taking time off. I get antsy. I wouldn't be able to stay home by myself. I'd probably end up at the office."
"You want me to call Reade? Maybe he'll come and hang out with you this weekend," Jane suggested, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
"Don't get me wrong, I like Reade," Kurt said without missing a beat, "but I don't really want to hang out with him for three days."
"Hmmm, okay," she said slowly, as if she was thinking hard. "Do you have anyone in mind? Patterson? Zapata?"
Narrowing his eyes at her and shaking his head, he leaned his face down closer to her. "You're impossible. You know that, right?" he asked her.
Her smile spread across her face instantly, and her cheeks flushed. "I might have been told that before, once or twice," she replied, looking into his eyes as his face came closer to hers.
"Well whoever told you that definitely knew what they were talking about," he said quietly, his nose now only an inch from hers.
"Yeah, I kind of like that person, and I generally trust his opinion," she replied, not looking away. "He's a pretty good judge of character… because I'm definitely impossible." He'd just begun to smile triumphantly when she added, "Just as much as he is."
"Hmmm, is he?" Kurt mumbled. "Who is this guy, anyway? He sounds fascinating."
Jane just shook her head, fighting against the urge to laugh. When her head finally stopped moving, Kurt leaned closer to her, his nose brushing against hers, but stopped before their lips came into contact with each other. She wanted to think of something clever to say, but looking into his eyes just then, words failed her. So she did the only thing that she could think of, and leaned up the last fraction of an inch to kiss him.
"So, does this mean that you'll keep me company?" he asked her when they finally drew apart, though they didn't move very far from each other. There was still less than a foot between them.
"You wanted me to keep you company?" she asked in mock surprise. "You never told me that." He made a playful face at her, and she grinned in delight. When it came to banter, it seemed that they were pretty much always on the same page. "I'm not the only one who'd want to keep you company, you know," she told him, suddenly looking serious again. "The rest of the team…"
"But here's the thing… you're the only one I want to keep me company all that time," he told her. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't mind if the others come and visit… but the only one I want three straight days of is you."
She looked at him in surprise, blinking slowly. "You've already had five days in a row of me, soon to be six," she said. "I'd think by now you'd be sick of me."
"Sick of you? You're kidding, right?" he asked, once again squeezing her hand with his, both of them still on his chest. When her serious expression didn't change, his own expression softened. "Of course, it's up to you. If you don't want to…" he told her with a sly smile. He didn't think that was the problem, but just in case…
Jane scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Of course I do…" she replied. "I just thought… You know you don't have to…"
"Jane, do you remember how you tried to tell me I didn't have to invite you along to Clearfield for the weekend? I don't say these things because I feel like I have to. I want you there. Really. As for the idea that I could get sick of you… well, right now I'm convinced that it's impossible. The only way to know for sure is to continue testing my theory."
Rolling her eyes at him, she shook her head. "Very funny," she told him. The words he'd just said were echoing in her head, and she couldn't stop the smile that was creeping across her face as she heard them again and again. I want you there. They were such simple words, but they meant so much to her.
"Please, keep me company so I won't be bored while I'm recovering?" he asked her with an innocent smile, now clearly working hard to be his sweetest, most charming self.
As she shook her head at him, laughing, it once again seemed impossible that less than a week before, they had only been speaking to each other when absolutely necessary, and awkwardly in those circumstances. It was now Thursday, after all. The party was still less than a week ago.
"Of course I will," she said softly. And then, as much as she didn't want to, she said, "I'd better get up."
He nodded slowly, not wanting her to, but knowing that she had a point. Besides, now that he was feeling so much better, he knew – or, he had decided, anyway – that he'd be leaving the hospital sooner than later, which was very encouraging. Soon enough, he could sit next to her somewhere that was much more comfortable.
Sitting up slowly, she maneuvered herself carefully so that she didn't bump him, removing her hand from his chest only reluctantly. Turning to put her feet over the edge of the bed again, she stepped down to the floor, slowly settling back in the chair. Once again, she immediately felt much too far away from him. Somehow it was different this time, however, and she felt calmer, less desperate – probably because she'd slowly satisfied herself that he was okay.
Leaning forward, she folded her arms, laying them along the edge of the bed where she'd sat a minute before, then leaned her left cheek against them, so that she was facing him. His left hand landed softly in her hair almost immediately, his thumb moving along her hairline, and she closed her eyes as she felt his fingers against her scalp. If she had learned only one thing from everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours alone, to say nothing of the past week, or of anything that had come before, it was to hold onto every second of happiness that she could. They had been few and far between up until a week ago, and some of them had been mixed with sadness. She had learned quickly, many times over in the time that she could remember, something that most people her age already knew – that she could never know when it would all be gone.
She'd almost been lulled to sleep by the sensation of his fingers in her hair when somewhere in the distance, she heard the door to the room open, and the noise from the hall suddenly got louder. Tentative footsteps advanced into the room, and familiar voices exclaimed over the cramped quarters. Jane felt herself returning to consciousness, and slowly opened her eyes, though she didn't immediately move. Looking up at Kurt, she saw his eyes dart between her and the newcomers in the room. She raised her head hesitantly, not wanting to give up the sensation of Kurt's fingers in her hair, but finally she turned and smiled at the guests who had just arrived. As she'd already known, it was Patterson and Reade.
"Hi, you two," Patterson smiled warmly. "Kurt, how are you feeling?"
"As good as can possibly be expected after being blown up," Kurt replied with a grin. Patterson just rolled her eyes and shook her head at him.
"Jane, you look like you're doing better than the last time I saw you," the blonde told her. That only made Jane realize how bad she must have looked last time, because she felt like she probably looked like hell just then.
Jane smiled, nodding in agreement. "I'm doing much better, thanks," she replied. "I had the easy job, I just had to be sick with worry."
Then it was Reade's turn to speak up from where he was standing behind Patterson. "Zapata thinks she found a lead on the explosion," he told the others. "I'm on my way to pick her up now, and we're going to check it out."
"Nice work," Kurt told him.
"I'll let you know if anything pans out," Reade replied with a shrug.
"Do you guys need anything?" Patterson asked, looking from Kurt to Jane and back again.
"No, thanks Patterson," Kurt said as Jane just shook her head. "I'm expecting to be out of here by tonight. You just focus on getting the bad guys, like usual. You guys are good at that."
"Our team is good at that," Patterson corrected him, making sure to look at Jane, and then at Kurt, so that she would understand that she was included in that statement.
They all smiled at each other, chuckling softly and nodding in agreement, and for a minute no one spoke. Everyone simply looked around at each other, silently thankful that they were all alive. After all, they knew from experience that not all situations had this kind of happy ending. They'd all lost people along the way.
"We'd better get going," Reade said to Patterson, who nodded reluctantly.
"Yep," the blonde replied, "Back to catching the bad guys."
"Exactly," Reade agreed.
"Thanks for coming," Kurt told them.
"It's good to see you… you know… alive and conscious," Patterson told him solemnly. "We were all really worried about you." Her glance fell on Jane again, and the two smiled at each other, no other words necessary, before Patterson looked back up at Kurt.
He nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm pretty glad to be both of those things, myself," he told her. "And I plan to stay that way. I'm going to take the next few days off, I think…" he said slowly, thinking that even saying those words felt strange to him. Both Patterson and Reade's expressions were equally surprised, their eyebrows rising in disbelief at what they were hearing. When Patterson saw Kurt glance quickly at Jane beside him, she knew that it was Jane who was responsible for their boss' uncharacteristic behavior.
"But, stay in touch, and let me know what you find," Kurt told Patterson and Reade, who both nodded. "I'm hoping to be in the office on Monday."
"Will do," Reade replied, shifting toward the door.
"I'll keep you posted," Patterson promised, following him carefully out of the crowded room.
When the door closed behind them, Kurt smiled at Jane happily. "Just you and me again," he said quietly.
Leaning her head down on her arms again, she smiled back up at him. "Fine with me," she replied. Just as automatically, his hand returned to where it hand been, against the side of her head, when Patterson and Reade had arrived. Once again his thumb traced her hairline as the rest of his fingers combed gently through her hair. As much as she was looking forward to leaving the hospital, at that moment, she had no complaints.