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 nothing about medical treatments for broken ribs or being knocked unconscious by an explosion (or anything other major health problem), and I can admit it. I made my best guesses using the internet.
When the doctor on duty that day, a soft spoken older man who looked almost ready to retire, finally arrived, they discovered that Kurt's prediction – that he would be leaving the hospital by the end of the day – had been correct. The doctor agreed that after another six to eight hours or so of observation, barring any complications, he could, indeed, be discharged that evening.
Jane passed along the good news to the team, who were hard at work, and all of them replied that they would see the pair of them later. She wasn't quite sure what they had in mind, but she got the feeling that they were up to something.
"Patterson, Reade and Zapata have now all texted me back, and they all said, 'See you later,'" Jane told him. "Is it just me, or do you think they're planning something?"
"It's hard to say," Kurt replied. "Our team is dedicated to the job above all else, and who knows how things will be looking later today…" he continued thoughtfully.
His words, our team, weren't lost on her, and she smiled back at him happily, forcing herself to pay attention to all the other words that came after those first two.
"That being said," he added, "they've proven time and time again how full of surprises they can be. So who knows? I guess we'll have to wait and see." She nodded weakly, feeling her eyes threatening to drift closed. She'd been alternating between sitting with her head down against her arms on the edge of his bed and upright in the chair for the past few hours, and was currently ignoring the soreness in her back in favor of the chance to rest her head. The fact that position that put her closer to him was, of course, a big incentive.
"Yeah," she replied tiredly, wondering if it was her imagination, or if time had actually slowed down. Glancing at the clock again for the tenth time in the past six minutes, it seemed like a distinct possibility.
It could be worse, the voice in her head reminded her. You could be living through last night again.
She was momentarily confused, as it took her a few seconds to realize that it had only been last night when she'd sat in the waiting room, waiting desperately to hear how severe Kurt's injuries had been, unable to even see him for hours.
How was that only last night? she wondered. It seemed impossible, and yet… it was true. It had been only the night before.
Considering that the party at the FBI was less than a week ago, and feels like it happened a few months back, it shouldn't be so hard to believe that you were in the waiting room last night, the voice reminded her. Thinking that way only made her feel even more tired.
Forcing herself to lift her head, she looked up at Kurt. He immediately smiled at her curiously, his eyes moving away from the TV on the far wall, which was tuned into one of the twenty-four hour news channels.
"What's up?" he asked her, his hand brushing lazily against her arm beside him.
Shaking her head, she tried to convince herself that she wasn't tired. It was an old habit now, since she was so accustomed to avoiding sleep. During the past week she'd slept far better than she had in the rest of the time she could remember, though she'd still had several severe nightmares. After the one she'd had that morning, however, she wasn't excited about the prospect of falling asleep, possibly ever again.
"I think I need more coffee," she replied, trying to clear the fuzziness from her head.
She looked away from him then, knowing that he was scrutinizing her and feeling as though he was looking right into her head and hearing her thoughts. "What you need is sleep," he told her. The moment the word she disliked so much was out of his mouth, however, she was already shaking her head. "Hey," he added soothingly, "I'm not telling you to go home. I know that's not happening." She couldn't help but smile at that, because he was right, she wasn't going anywhere until he did. Though she felt as though she should fight the urge, she laid her head back down on her arms, feeling her eyes closing almost immediately, to her dismay.
When she once again felt his fingers in her hair, she knew that he was now trying to lull her to sleep on purpose. Taking a deep breath, she fought to push her eyes open again, and had almost managed to lift her head up off of the bed when he started talking. She was so tired, she had to focus hard to make out the words he was saying.
"I'm glad you know that you're impossible," he told her in a tone full of nothing but affection. "Because that's exactly what you're being. Stop fighting it, Jane. Nothing bad is going to happen if you fall asleep." Even though the only part of him that was touching her was his hand on her face – which was by far the biggest frustration he had with his injuries and his hospital bed, because he could barely reach her, and thanks to the extreme soreness he felt, he couldn't easily shift position without risking significant pain – he could feel her tense up immediately. He knew that his words alone weren't going to fix things, and it certainly wasn't going to happen immediately, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying.
Logically, she knew that what he was saying was the truth, and yet… it felt impossible to relax. Again, she concentrated on breathing in and out, gradually feeling her heart stop racing, and once again become conscious that her eyes were drifting closed. Instead of panicking about the fact that she was falling asleep, she tried to focus only on the sensation of his hand in her hair. Yes, that was much better.
He watched her fall asleep, her head leaned against her arms along the edge of his bed, and couldn't help but smile. She'd been through so much, and yet there she was, still fighting it all but now sleeping peacefully – at least for the moment – beside him. She wasn't afraid of anyone, even when she should be – with one exception, of course, and that was Keaton. And yet, despite how brave she was, she was terrified of something as seemingly harmless as falling asleep. Of course, since she had terrifying nightmares, it made sense, but it made her that much more of a paradox. The urge he felt to protect her was almost overwhelming, even though – or maybe, especially because – he knew how many factors they had working against them.
Watching her sleep, he couldn't help but feel sleepy himself. The pain medication he was on was pretty heavy duty, and it wasn't long before he felt his own eyes closing as well.
The more you sleep, the faster the day will go, and the sooner you'll be out of here, he told himself as he drifted off. That made complete sense to him, and was just one more reason why taking a nap just then was a good idea. It was certainly better than watching the news that played quietly on the TV across the room.
When Alicia entered the room around 12:30pm, she found both Jane and Kurt asleep. Smiling to herself, she couldn't help but think that she may never have seen a pair that were so in love. Though Natalie's notes had specifically said that the woman had seemed agitated when she'd asked if she was the patient's wife or girlfriend, both of which she had denied, there was no denying that there was something between them. That much was clear. Maybe they just hadn't figured it out yet, but Alicia had a feeling that it wouldn't be long. From what she'd seen, serious injuries seemed to help clarify people's feelings for each other. It was a lot harder to take someone for granted when you were worrying about their health, after all.
Having completed her check of Kurt's vital signs and finding everything in the room in order, she left again without having woken either of them, to her relief. They'd certainly appeared to need the sleep, especially the woman.
Both Jane and Kurt slept through lunch. Jane began to stir a little after 3:00pm, and the movement as she woke up was enough to rouse Kurt as well.
"Did I really just sleep for almost five hours?" she asked groggily, picking her head up to look at the clock, "Or can I suddenly not do math?"
Kurt chuckled, pleased with the fact that Jane had finally seemed to sleep well for a significant chunk of time, and amused with her disbelief at that very fact. "We really just slept for almost five hours," he assured her. "I fell asleep not long after you did." When she looked at him in surprise, he replied, "You made it look like a lot of fun."
"Very funny," she replied, laying her head right back down again, so that it was back within his reach. She'd quickly become addicted to the sensation of his fingers in her hair. "Next time, you can be the one sleeping on a chair," she added.
"You know I would if I could," he said sincerely, without missing a beat.
She looked up at him in surprise. Her statement had been rhetorical, and she hadn't actually expected a response. Of course he would've switched places with her if he could have, and the look on his face confirmed it.
He felt as though he'd suddenly woken up and remembered so many things about Jane, and how he had always felt about her, even at the very beginning, that he couldn't believe that he'd ever forgotten. All at once, it all seemed so obvious to him. They had both made so many mistakes, and yet… Somehow they'd gotten a second chance, just when it had seemed like it was too late.
Somehow, she couldn't help but feel as though suddenly, almost a week ago, he'd changed back into the 'old Kurt,' the one he had been at the beginning. As much as she liked it, she still wasn't quite used to this new old version of Kurt, who seemed to care so much about her. His current behavior was perfectly in line with just the kind of guy the 'old Kurt' had been, the one she remembered when she let her mind wander back to the beginning. Yes, this was definitely the same Kurt who'd stared at her intensely when she'd ended up with the FBI the first time. The same one who had made her feel so safe. Still, even after almost a week of this 'new old Kurt,' it surprised her every single time he did something nice for her – it still didn't feel real.
Smiling back at him, for a few seconds she couldn't speak. "I know," she finally whispered, and found that at that moment, she really did believe it. It was a strange feeling, the warmth in her chest which made her both so happy and so scared all at once. However, the more she looked at him, the more the balance tipped away from scared, towards happy.
But what if… The doubts at the back of her mind whispered.
Hush, she told them. Look into his eyes. It's real. The more times she said it to herself, the easier it became to believe it.
She wasn't tired, at least not physically, but her alleged alertness and the fact that she'd just woken up from a five hour 'nap' – which, of course, was longer than she slept many nights – didn't deter her from laying her head back down and closing her eyes once again. The sounds of the door to the room opening and another person joining them didn't seem important enough to open her eyes for, at least not when his fingers were in her hair.
"She's not asleep," she heard Kurt telling someone, but still she didn't move. That was when she recognized the other voice as Alicia, who'd undoubtedly come to check on Kurt again. Jane heard her telling him that he needed to eat the lunch that had been left for him earlier, while they'd been asleep. She also heard him assuring Alicia that he would make sure she ate as well, and she almost laughed out loud. Not wanting to blow her cover, however, she allowed only a small smile as the only outward sign that she was awake.
After the door closed and the room was quiet again, she felt his hand still against her cheek. "Hey, sleepyhead," he said softly. "I know you're awake." The smile on her face grew, but her eyes remained closed.
"What gave me away?" she asked in amusement, still not moving.
"I just know," he told her in satisfaction. "I know you."
"Oh yeah?" she asked, her smile growing. "What am I thinking right now?"
"You're thinking that you don't want to move, and you don't want me to move, among other things," he replied confidently. When her face changed and it appeared that she was at least mildly impressed, he couldn't help but ask, "Am I right?"
Opening her eyes then, unable to stop herself any longer, she was met by an affectionate look so intense, it almost took her breath away. "When you're right, you're right," she admitted, keeping her eyes locked on his.
"Well," he continued in the same smooth tone, "if we ever want to leave this hospital, I need to eat. And because Alicia is as observant as she is, she's watching to make sure you eat, as well. Which means that in order to go home tonight, we need to at least move enough to be able to reach the food."
With a sigh, she smiled and turned her head so that she could kiss the inside of his palm, which had been against her cheek, then turned back to look at him, sighing again. "Oh, alright," she said in mock annoyance, but with a bright smile on her face.
He pulled his hand back reluctantly, and she lifted her head to look for where she'd put the bag that Zapata had brought her that morning, still containing a bagel and a muffin. She noticed that someone had moved it onto the small bedside table beside Kurt's tray of food, keeping it company. As if reading her mind, he handed it to her without a word as he pulled the table closer, since its base was on wheels to allow exactly that, pulling his own food closer to the bed.
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, and Jane had to admit that she did feel a little better afterwards. She hadn't thought that she was hungry, but she was surprised to find that she must have been after all.
"It's hard to believe that there's only two days left in December… and in this year," Kurt mused after finishing the food that had been left for him. "It's been…" He had intended to say more, to make conversation, but when he'd thought about it harder, he found that it was actually something he didn't really want to talk about. After all, when he thought back on everything that had happened that year… It seemed to have turned out exponentially better than he'd imagined possible, but the road to get there had been longer and harder than he would have ever anticipated. It didn't feel like an exaggeration to say that in a way, he'd been through his own personal Hell.
"Yeah, it has," Jane agreed quietly.
Kurt immediately felt guilty for even bringing it up, because as bad as things had been for him, as far as he was concerned, that year had been far worse for her. She'd been literally tortured, after all.
"But it was worth it," she added in a whisper. After a pause, in which her eyes darted to the floor, she looked back up at him and added, "And if I found out that the way things happened this year was the only way to end up here… and if I had to choose whether I'd change it… I'd go through it all again. In a heartbeat."
Her words had literally taken his breath away for a second, and he had to remind himself to breathe. He knew that her pain had been immeasurable so many times that year, so for her to say something like that, and without hesitation… it blew him away. Those few words told him more about how she felt about him, about them, than any I love you ever could have.
Leaning forward in her chair, her eyes remained fixed on his, and though the smile on her face was sad, it was somehow also happy at the same time. He reached his hand out towards her, wishing her could hold onto more than just her hand just then, and once again she took it in both of hers.
As he continued to process her words, he was unable to keep a straight face while imagining the horrific things that she had been through that year. Just the thought of anyone doing the one of the horrible things that Keaton had done to her even one time, much less all of them, many times, made his stomach churning with disgust and anger… The thought that she'd so casually tossed out, that she'd go through it all again to end up where they were… How could she say such a thing? He couldn't allow that. Not for anything.
It's not for you to allow or disallow, the voice in his head said soothingly. It's not a choice, after all, not yours and not hers. It's not going to happen. She's safe now, and you are going to keep her that way.
Damn right, I am, he agreed with the voice.
As she watched him, she saw his expression darken, and she could tell that he was focusing on the wrong part of what she'd said. He had become far too protective of her recently, which was hard to get used to after feeling such intense dislike from him – hatred, even – and convincing herself that that was exactly what she deserved. It was also simultaneously truly sweet.
Shaking her head, and feeling her appreciation for him intensify, she chuckled. "You're focusing on the wrong part," she told him. He looked up at her, his expression appearing to change to relief before her eyes as he realized what she meant, and he smiled slowly. "I can say that I'd go through it again because, even though I mean it, I know that I don't have to. My point was, this is as good as the rest of it was horrible… plus a million times better. This. Right now… It was worth it."
There was an ache in his chest at the intensity of what she was saying, and he tried to deflect it with humor. Raising an eyebrow at her playfully, he couldn't help himself. "Right now? Here… in the hospital?" he asked.
She chuckled, looking down with a grin and then back up, shaking her head at him affectionately. "Here, or anywhere else, just… with you," she told him honestly. "Though I'd prefer not to be in danger of freezing to death again."
"Oh come on," he said with a grin, winking at her as his smile widened. "That wasn't all bad."
"If we separate the 'in danger of freezing to death' from the keeping warm part, then yes… it was… fun," she admitted, the grin on her face now matching his. "Though it seems like somehow we just keep finding ourselves in life or death situations. And somehow I doubt that that's going to stop anytime soon."
"And there's no one I'd rather be in life or death situations with than you," he told her, the same grin on his face. "Though, I really prefer the life part, not death."
A laugh escaped her before she could cover her mouth with her hand, and she shook her head at him. "That was cheesy," she told him, shaking her head.
"That was the truth," he replied, pretending to be hurt, but still grinning at her.
"And it was sweet," she said, having gotten her laughter under control and smiling fondly at him once again.
"See? I can be sweet," he told her proudly.
"I've always know that," she told him, "for as long as I've known you. From the time you let a complete stranger put her hand on your face to try to recover her missing memories, despite how uncomfortable it made you." He looked back at her in surprise, and it only made her smile more. "I didn't realize it at the time," she assured him. "But looking back, I see it now. I did know that you could be sweet, though even then. You knew that I didn't have anyone else, so you let me lean on you."
"That wasn't the only reason," he said quietly.
"I know," she replied, her voice suddenly almost disappearing. "And every time I was falling apart, you were there."
"Not every time…" he said, guilt suddenly overtaking his features and his gaze moving to the floor.
"No, well, maybe not every time… After things started going wrong…" she replied carefully. "But that makes two of us, remember? We're evenly to blame for that." She said it with finality, as if she would accept no argument – which he knew that she wouldn't. "And yet…" she continued after a few seconds, "…here we are."
Her right hand released its hold on his left, and she pressed her index finger under his chin, pressing underneath it until he looked back up at her. Her finger remained there, and she curled the other three fingers to the right of it so that she stroked four fingers across his cheek, only her thumb not making contact.
His breathing faltered for a second then, which seemed appropriate because he swore that he felt his heart skip a beat as well.
"I love you," he whispered, so sincerely that she felt her chest ache.
"I love you, too," she said, her voice suddenly softer than it had been a second before. "And I think… I think I did a long time before I realized it."
Nodding, he looked at her and saw the same hints of pain in her eyes that he could feel behind his own. "I did, too," he replied, "which was what made it all so hard."
She smiled, suddenly feeling tears appearing in her eyes out of nowhere. He was reading her thoughts again, and he was absolutely right.
"No more crying," he told her seriously. "That part's over. We're not going back."
"So what's next, then?" she asked him curiously, giving him a watery smile.
"This," he replied quickly. "The happy part."
"Sounds good to me," she said. Without a word, she stood up from the chair and carefully moved herself back onto the edge of the bed, where she'd managed to balance herself beside him earlier. Whether or not he was being discharged in a few hours and they'd be able to go home and sit close together much more comfortably, at that moment she suddenly needed to be closer to him than she could manage while she sat in the chair.
He smiled warmly as she moved slowly onto the bed beside him, this time slipping his left arm around her lower back as she moved closer, so that it wound around her waist. She rested her left hand flat against his chest once again, over his heart, tentatively at first to be sure that she wasn't hurting him. Leaning her head down toward his shoulder, she snuggled against him with her head in the crook of his neck, feeling him lean his head against the top of hers. It was perfect.
Jane didn't quite fall asleep that way, but simply sat with her eyes closed, letting her other senses do the work. She was completely relaxed and yet full of adrenaline all at once. It was as though every time she thought that she couldn't possibly love him more, she discovered that she could. This realization was shocking to her and, she had to admit, wonderfully addictive.
Time passed both quickly and slowly at the same time, possibly because of the semi-consciousness she let herself drift into as she leaned against him. There was no reason to move, no reason to open her eyes, so she simply didn't. After all, she was perfectly satisfied with where she was.
At some point, she felt him kiss the top of her head, and she felt herself being pulled back toward awareness. She lifted her head off of his shoulder for the first time in what could have been hours – she couldn't be sure.
"I got a text from Zapata," he said in a low voice, leaning down towards her to speak, as if he was telling her a secret. Really, he just liked the excuse of talking to her to move closer to her. "The guy they questioned earlier gave them three names. One of them appears to have fled the country, and agents are staking out the last known locations of the other two. Patterson's working her usual magic, so… hopefully we'll know something soon."
Jane nodded, taking in the information with an unusual feeling of detachment. She couldn't figure out why her mind was so reluctant to process what he was telling her, to try to think of the next steps, why she wasn't chomping at the bit to be a part of the investigation… why the more she heard, the more she just wanted to stay by his side.
Could it be because you're exhausted? Not just physically, but also in a completely different way than ever before? her mind suggested. Think about it. You're coming down from an extremely emotional five days, and then your emotions are pushed to the opposite extreme. What happened in the past twenty-four hours was… beyond intense. It's hard to know how to process it. Kurt could have been killed. And then you had a dream that was so realistic, you thought that he had been. It's like you told him a long time ago… you don't remember ever losing anyone before, and then you thought you'd lost the most important person in your life – for the second time! It seems like it would be normal to be a little shaken up by that.
"Okay," she replied, almost tonelessly. She really wasn't sure what to say. He was simply passing on information, she knew, not asking her to act on it, as she, along with the team, usually would have.
His eyes narrowed at he looked at her more carefully then. She didn't seem like her usual self – not that he could say with any certainty what her usual self was like, only that he'd never seen her like this.
"Are you okay?" he asked unsurely. She seemed to have become lost in thought while he'd been considering whether or not she seemed like herself.
Seconds passed in which she didn't reply, as if there was a time delay between her ears, her brain and her mouth. She had every intention of saying yes, like she almost always did – whether she was actually okay or not. After all, despite the events of last night and this morning, she was actually feeling very much loved at that particular moment – far more than she had ever hoped for, and certainly more than she deserved. Why shouldn't she be okay?
So then, why wouldn't the words come out?
She looked up at him steadily without a word, and her lack of response spoke volumes. He'd been expecting her to try to convince him that she was fine, and he'd been prepared to be skeptical, and to argue with her over the fact that he could tell that something was off. Instead, when she said nothing, he stared into her eyes, swearing that he could hear the commotion that he imagined would have been going on in her head. It was a strange sensation, one that he'd occasionally had around her in the past… What it came down to was that he knew her, whether he had thought that he did or not. Because of this, he didn't actually need her to answer the question.
"We're helping from the sidelines this time," he told her, pulling his arm more tightly around her waist. "It's already been decided. You don't have to feel strange about not being in the middle of the action, okay? And I know I'm not one to talk, since I don't know how to not be in the middle of the action… It's something new for both of us, but we're going to find out together. Alright?"
She nodded, relieved, turning her head on an angle and leaning her forehead against his cheek. When he moved slightly, dragging his stubble against her skin just enough for her to smile at the sensation, she seemed to regain the power of speech. "Okay," she replied quietly.
He wondered at how the same word that she'd said a few minutes ago could seem so completely different. The previous time, he'd been able to tell from that one word that she was absolutely not okay. This time, on the other hand, he'd been able to hear loud and clear that she was fine – or at least, that she believed that she was going to be. He couldn't have explained how he knew, other than to say that, as he'd just realized, he knew her.
"You deserve a break, after everything," he told her quietly, keeping the side of his face in contact with hers, shifting slightly only to bring his mouth a little closer to her ear. "It's a shame that there's no time for a break, that the best we can do is 'helping from the sidelines.'"
"You deserve one just as much," she replied quickly. "And the reason that you know that neither of us can take one until Sandstorm is finished completely is one of the reasons that I love you. Because we don't need to explain it to each other. We both just know." She felt the muscles in his face pull into a smile against her, and felt his face lean against her just a little more. "And as much as I'd love to go away somewhere with you, I don't need that. I don't need a break. All I really need is… well… you."
"You have me," he whispered, moving slightly to try to be able to see her face while still leaning against her cheek.
"I know," she told him. "Lucky me."
"Lucky me," he corrected her. She rolled her eyes good naturedly at his competitiveness.
"Lucky us, then," she countered with a smile.
"Agreed," he whispered, kissing her forehead. They both sat and leaned against each other with goofy smiles on their faces, having forgotten all about the rest of the world outside of the two foot space in which their faces existed. Slowly, however, the noises of the rest of the hospital filtered back in. Hopefully, several things would be happening soon – they'd likely be giving Kurt another dose of the heavy duty medicine that he was on, they would probably be bringing him another meal, and then hopefully the doctor would be telling him that he was progressing well enough to go home. After all, he'd been there for nearly twenty-four hours. Even with FBI-issued health insurance, a patient who seemed to be doing as well as he was wasn't going to be kept much beyond that.
Jane lifted her face slowly off of his, smiling at him as she pulled back, and enjoying the fact that by forcing herself to put a little distance between them, she could see him better. "They're going to be bringing you more meds soon, and maybe dinner," she told him. "Hopefully then we'll be able to get out of here." He just nodded, looking into her eyes with what she imagined was the same love struck expression she felt on her own face. "I'm going to go get some coffee and stretch my legs," she told him. "I'll be back in five minutes. Do you need anything?"
"Just you," he told her, keeping his eyes fixed on hers and then smiling when she rolled her eyes, unable to help it when she grinned in amusement.
"That was cheesy," she told him, just as she had earlier.
"That was the truth," he replied sincerely once again.
"Well then, you're in luck, because I intend to come right back," she told him.
"Please do," he told her. She climbed down slowly off of the bed and stepped around the various obstacles in her path towards the door.
"Don't go anywhere," she told him, turning around in the doorway and looking at him once more over her shoulder.
"Since you asked so nicely," he replied, recycling the line once again. She couldn't help but smile at that. Having no memories before a point that still felt very recent, she enjoyed it when he showed that he remembered their past conversations even more than most people probably would have. At that moment she had the urge not to leave at all, not to take her eyes off of him, and quite the opposite, to walk back over to the bed and sit right back down. However, she felt stiff a little groggy and knew that the short errand would do her good.
"I'll be right back," she told him, and before she had another chance to hesitate, she pushed the door open and walked through it, closing it behind her.
The silence in the room after Jane left was strangely somehow different from the silence that had existed when they'd sat quietly together for most of the day, in between conversations and naps. It was surprising how quickly he'd adapted to having her around most of the time, but that was exactly what had happened in the past week, he now realized.
It was strange, rejoining the world outside Kurt's room again after having sequestering herself inside it for so long. Granted, the halls of the hospital didn't exactly count as the outside world, but it was close enough. She stood for a few seconds and regained her bearings, then headed for the cafeteria.
A tiny sliver of discomfort pushed into the corner of his mind, as he wondered at what the chances were that Sandstorm would somehow intercept her on her way to or from the cafeteria. After all, they were weakened, but they weren't destroyed completely. While it seemed unlikely, it certainly wasn't impossible. Kurt felt the danger acutely, probably because he was injured, and if something happened to her he would be far less able to get her back himself. And besides, they still hadn't figured out what had happened to him. While Sandstorm interference may have seemed less likely when it came to who had set the bomb that had landed him in the hospital, since up until now they'd always wanted him spared from harm, that was no guarantee that that hadn't changed, for whatever reason.
No, he wouldn't relax completely until Jane walked back through the door once again.