Disclaimer: I do not own Blind spot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)

A/N: When I uploaded ch3, FFN was still having the same issue as when I uploaded ch2 for whatever reason, giving me errors and sadly, still not sending out notifications. But you made it here in the end, like Jane and Kurt, so I guess that's something. I'm hoping that this chapter will post correctly… and yes, this is the LAST chapter of this story.

Jane's forehead was pressed against the door, and she wondered whether she would find the strength to move before she simply fell asleep and collapsed on the floor. Somehow, it didn't seem to matter too much either way at that moment.

Kurt, on the other hand, had finally managed to make his feet obey him. He took two steps, then two more, each pair of them just a little faster than the ones before them. Seconds later, he stopped again.

What am I doing? he asked himself.

The noise was loud, echoing painfully through Jane's head. It worked out, though, because anything quieter than that may not have gotten her attention. Her whole head felt as though it was vibrating with the force of the sound.

What could possibly be making that noise? she wondered.

The door, she told herself quickly. Someone's knocking on the door.

She was confused, but too tired to think about it. Not even bothering to look in the peephole, she stepped back just far enough to open the door and was surprised to see Kurt standing in front of her again. He looked upset, and his face seemed to fall even farther when he saw her. Or maybe that was her imagination. At this point, she couldn't even trust her own judgement about anything.

"What… what's wrong?" she forced out, her voice just barely cooperating. Actually, she wasn't entirely convinced that she was loud enough for him to hear her.

"I realized… I forgot to ask you something," he said, glancing over her shoulder into the entryway. It would really be nice not to have an audience for this conversation, after all, and with Roman's detail sitting outside, that was impossible where they were. It was the same as it had been so long ago with Jane's detail – slightly strange to know that his comings and goings were being surveilled, but worth it to know that she was safe… Or so he'd thought, before he'd found out that she snuck out when they weren't looking. The one time she'd really needed her detail, they hadn't been there, and neither had he.

Taking a step back, she opened the door wide enough for him to come in, her eyes not leaving him as he walked past her. Instead, she simply turned around to face him, now on the other side of her, leaning her back against the door to close it. She needed it to hold her up, anyway. It took a few seconds before she remembered that she was crying again, which she'd fought so hard to stop in order to get Kurt to agree to go… He'd noticed, too, she could tell, but hadn't commented on it yet.

Kurt shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, taking a step closer to Jane. Her back was against the door, and she looked… overcome, but didn't seem bothered when he stepped closer. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him questioningly, saying nothing. They were closer now, not quite in each other's personal space, but nearly.

He was trying to figure out the best way to get her to tell him the truth. Just ask, the voice in his head told him impatiently.

"I need to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth. I don't mind either way, I just… I don't want you to feel like you have to lie, okay?" he told her.

"Okay," she replied in barely a whisper, with a nod of her head that wasn't much bigger. She was confused, because what could he possibly be talking about? What was so urgent that he'd just come back inside in the middle of the night and just made her promise to tell the truth? Yes, she'd lied to him in the past, but she'd promised herself not to do that anymore.

Besides the lie of omission about Emma Shaw, the voice in her head told her, I can think of a lie you just told him. The one where you told him to go home because you were fine, that you were just tired.

She ignored the voice. After all, she'd been trying to convince herself that she was fine for as long as she could remember. It was the only way that she could actually make herself be fine, or anything resembling it. Surely that didn't really count?

He took half a step closer to her, smiling down at her sadly, somehow keeping his hands at his sides. It was hard to resist the urge to pull her closer, but he didn't want her to feel pressured, one way or the other. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Jane, do you want me to go home?"

I already told him, she thought, confused, but then stopped. It was only then that she realized that what she had told him, "You should go home," and "I want you to go home," were not quite the same thing. Of course she hadn't told him that she wanted him to go home… she didn't want that.

Looking back up at him, she realized what he was doing. She felt her breathing become shallower, and willed herself to keep her composure somehow, not wanting to fall apart again. Her eyes went to the floor before she answered, not wanting to look at him when she admitted the truth, for some reason.

"No," she said, in a voice so tiny that if he hadn't been waiting for her answer, he probably wouldn't have heard it. The accompanying shake of her head was just as small, barely a movement, one that easily could have been mistaken for a twitch.

His question now answered, Kurt gave himself permission to stop resisting the urge to reach for her, his arms going around her securely, her arms wrapping around him slowly as well. He could feel that her breathing was uneven, and he chided himself for even thinking about leaving her like this. Didn't he know her well enough to know better? Deciding that it didn't matter, since he hadn't left, he focused on the present.

"Okay, good," he said softly, "because I don't want to leave knowing you're not okay. Especially because it's my fault." When he felt her attempt to protest, shaking her head weakly against him, he added, "And you won't talk me out of that, so don't bother trying." If he didn't know better, he'd have said that, after a pause, she chuckled slightly against him, relaxing just a little.

She hated to admit how much better she felt when he was holding onto her like this. It was difficult to remember why she'd thought that sending him home was a good idea…

You didn't want to admit that you needed him, as usual, the voice in her head told her. She hated that it was right.

"We both need sleep. Like, now," he said, leaving no room for argument. Leaning back to look at her and waiting until she looked back up at him, he said, "I can crash on the couch, if you—"

But she was already shaking her head, her expression pained. She offered no explanation, only one insistent word. "No," she said simply, and he swore that she held onto him a little tighter just then, as if she thought that he was going to try to move away from her.

The thought of him being there made her feel infinitely better about trying to sleep, but the thought of him on the couch – or anywhere else that far away – well, it would have been almost as though he wasn't there. It was hard to admit to herself that the only way she could even imagine herself voluntarily sleeping was if he was there with her. Not in another room, but right there beside her.

Smiling, he smoothed a hand down over her hair, then returned it to its place, against her back. "Okay," he replied simply. "So let's go get ready." His arms fell from around her reluctantly, but he knew that that was the only way to get them both moving. Sure enough, once he'd let go of her, Jane turned and started towards her bedroom, Kurt locking her front door before following close behind her.

At the bedroom door, he hesitated, leaning against the doorframe with one shoulder, arms crossed as he watched her carefully. She'd said that she didn't want him on the couch, but if she changed her mind, that would still be okay. He just wanted to make sure that she was comfortable with whatever arrangement they ended up with. Their relationship – whatever it was – was too important to him for him to do anything to jeopardize it. After all, he'd done enough of that in the past. They were lucky to have a second chance now.

She stepped inside the room, looking around helplessly, as if she didn't quite know what to do. It wasn't as though he hadn't ever seen the room before, though it had been a long time. She'd had more things back then. Now, the room was practically bare – it had been ever since she'd been brought back to the FBI. After all, what was the point of having things? Eventually, it would all just go away again. She didn't like to think that way, but it was hard not to.

Bending down to pick up her pajamas off the end of the bed, she turned back to look at him. "I'm just going to…" she said softly, looking toward the bathroom door. He nodded, smiling slightly.

"You can still change your mind, you know," he told her softly.

She looked confused as she asked, "About what?"

"About me sleeping on the couch," he told her.

Confusion was replaced by certainty this time, as she shook her head. "No," she said, much more certainly. "I don't want to change my mind."

"Okay," he replied calmly. "But it's okay if you do. Just… try to do it before I fall asleep, is all I ask."

Her smile curled larger then, showing genuine amusement.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said with a smirk, walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

He leaned against the doorframe for a few more seconds, then told himself that there was no reason to stay there. She'd told him twice already that she wanted him to stay there with her, after all. Walking into the room slowly, he found that there wasn't much else to do but sit down on the end of the bed, and he chose a spot facing the bathroom door. That way he didn't have to look too hard at how empty the room was.

That part is my fault, too, he couldn't help but think. He made a mental note to do something about it. No one should live like that, and he certainly couldn't let Jane think that she didn't deserve more. Quite the opposite. He would do better, he told himself.

Leaning forward, his forearms braced against his knees, he felt exhaustion creeping over him. He'd known that it was late, and that he was tired, but he was feeling it even more now that he was sitting down. The clock told him that it was closing in on 1:00 am. Not his latest night, but late nonetheless. Besides, work had a way of taking it all out of him, and thanks to his insane hours, he was pretty much perpetually exhausted these days – and had been basically since they'd put a name to Sandstorm. Since Jane had come back.

The door in front of him creaked open, and Kurt looked up to see Jane emerge from the bathroom, holding the clothes she'd been wearing. Dropping them into the hamper that sat beside the bathroom door, she paused and looked at him. Now she was wearing a black tank top and gray pajama pants. Very simple and very plain – completely the opposite of Jane herself, her ornate tattoos standing out from beneath the fabric. She was neither simple nor plain, and never had been.

He couldn't help but smile up at her as she watched him with a small, nervous smile of her own. After a few seconds, she walked over to sit beside him on the end of the bed, her head immediately falling on his right shoulder as she let out a sigh. He took her left hand, palm up, and, cradled it in his left hand gently. Then he curved the fingers of his right hand around her fingers lightly, his thumb tracing invisible shapes in her palm, so lightly that she barely felt it. The movement made her stomach flutter.

Almost immediately, she felt her eyes closing. She was so tired, and what he was doing was so soothing, after all… At that moment, her regular impulse to keep herself awake at all costs simply failed to kick in. She didn't need it anyway. Not with Kurt there.

"Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow?" he asked, hating to think about getting up again, but knowing that, if nothing else, they were going to have to stand up in order to go and lay down in the bed.

He felt her sigh against his shoulder, and couldn't help but think that she sounded slightly defeated. "I don't know," she replied. "I guess there could be one…" Really, I should know this… she thought. But why would there be one? Why would I ever need one?

Don't be like that, the voice in her head told her kindly. This is exactly why you would need one. And it's not your imagination. He's really here, after all.

As far as she was concerned, the conversation happening in her head was just proof that she was so tired she was getting delirious.

"It's okay, I'll take a look," he assured her, holding her hand securely in between both of his for a moment, then turning to lean his face against the top of her head, inhaling deeply. But they couldn't stay like that, he knew, so he forced himself to pick his head up, and let go of her hand with his left hand, standing up and then pulling her up gently with his right hand, finally letting that one go as well and taking a slow step away from her.

"You go and get in bed," he told her. "I'll be right out."

"Which side do you usually sleep on?" she asked, not even sure where the question came from. It was such a small concern, and yet… it was just one more thing to know about him.

Stopping outside the bathroom and turning back around to look at her, he smiled slightly. "Lately, the left, but only because it's the closest side to the door of my bedroom, and I tend to collapse as soon as I can. Before that…" his voice trailed off.

He felt them veering into sensitive territory, and his smile disappeared. He was left looking at her seriously, hating the fact that after all this time that he'd had feelings for Jane, he'd slept with two women who were not Jane. It wasn't that simple, of course, and really, he hadn't even realized how he felt about her at the beginning… but when it came down to it, that was really what had happened. Shaking his head he said, "It never mattered that much. I'm adaptable."

She found that she was sorry that she'd asked the question, because while she could stomach the idea of Allie – that decision of his she could at least understand – it made her feel physically sick to think of him with Nas. It was almost as though Kurt being with her after everything that had happened… it almost felt like it negated the connection they'd had from the beginning. Of course, it didn't, and she knew that after everything she'd done, she had no right to the flare of jealousy that she felt then… but that didn't stop her from feeling it.

You did this to yourself, she told herself wryly. It was true. After all, they'd been so close in the beginning, and if she'd made different decisions along the way… The truth was that if she'd been honest with Kurt all along, Nas would never have come to them. If only Jane had just made different choices. Of course, thinking things like this didn't help – not one bit – so she did her best to smile at him… or at the very least, not to look as crushed as she felt all of a sudden.

"What about you?" he asked her, watching carefully as the wheels in her head seemed to turn, taking her somewhere she didn't seem to want to go, based on the look on her face. It took her a second to emerge from the depths of her thoughts and realize what he was asking her. What about me what?

Working backwards quickly, she figured out the question. "The middle, for the most part, though depending on my dreams, sometimes I wake up all the way on one side or the other. Before that…" she shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, even though the admission stung, "I don't remember." She didn't have that problem as much as she used to, since she had more memories now – though many of the new ones were almost as terrible as the ones she'd retrieved from Remi's collection – but there were still times when her lack of a past felt like a burden that she would never overcome.

She'd called them dreams just then, but Kurt recognized that description for what it actually referred to – nightmares.

He just nodded, and they looked at each other for a few more seconds. Recognizing the sensitive nature of the situation for what it was, he focused on smiling at her with a look that told her that it was all okay.

"Climb into bed," he told her again, softly, "I'll be out in a second." Closing the bathroom door behind him, he couldn't help but think that that wasn't something he had expected to be saying to her tonight when they'd met up with Patterson and Zapata at the bar earlier. The thought made him smile.

She stood and watched him close the door, slightly in awe that this was the way she was ending her day. It was most certainly unexpected, that much was for sure.

Walking around to the right side of the bed, she pulled the covers back and sat down, then moved over slowly from the edge, so that she was partway toward the middle. She didn't really know how far over she should be, or how much space she should leave. It was a big bed, but how exactly did this work? She sat cross legged, not quite in the middle of the bed, not sure what to do and feeling more than a little anxious. Okay, very anxious.

Not more than a minute later, the door opened again and Kurt emerged. "Good news," he told her, heading for the wall by the door to turn off the light, "you did have an extra toothbrush in there. I found it in a drawer."

Looking up from where she sat, she couldn't help but smile at him, if a little nervously. "That is good news," she managed, attempting to keep her eyes on him as he walked back across the darkened room. Light flooded in through the window from the streetlight outside, and she could see him unbuttoning his shirt, the white of a plan t-shirt visible underneath. He was wearing jeans, she noticed, as he dropped his shirt on the floor – there wasn't really anything in the room to drape it over, and it was so late that it didn't matter to him anyway.

"I'm sorry I don't have any pajamas that would fit you," she told him. He shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"No big deal," he insisted.

"You, uh…" she started, and felt herself turning pink before any other words had even left her mouth. "I doubt it's very comfortable to sleep in jeans…" She was staring at the covers in front of her, fidgeting with the blankets and trying to get the words out. "And considering that you saw naked pictures of me pretty much the first day we met, I figure…" She swallowed hard, surprised that she'd managed to form the thought coherently.

"So it's my turn?" he asked in amusement, a goofy grin on his face. He was genuinely surprised at her.

She felt her face burning, and wasn't sure whether he could see just how pink she was in the dim light. "No, I… um… I mean…" She stuttered, punching him playfully in the arm. "I just meant… don't feel like you have to wear them for my benefit. I'm sure it's more comfortable without them. We're both adults."

"I'm going to remember that you told me to take my clothes off," he chuckled quietly as he stood back up to take off his jeans. She was absolutely right, it wouldn't be very comfortable. And it didn't change his intentions – which were solely to make sure that she was okay. The rest of it… well, he wouldn't rule it out for a future date.

Her mouth opened and she stared at him for a second, before shaking her head and finally, relaxing slightly into a smile. As tired as she was, she remained sitting up, still slightly tense. Pulling back the blankets, he slid under them and scooted towards her, lying down on his left side. The blankets were bunched up in front of her, and he reached over and slipped them over her lap, looking up at her for a few seconds.

"You can still change your mind," he reminded her.

Smiling and shaking her head at him, she turned her head in his direction, surprised at the intensity with which he was looking up at her. For a second, it took her breath away.

"I don't want to change my mind," she told him in a whisper.

"Okay, good," she said with a smile. "Now, time to lie down," he added, patting the space beside him, which was behind her since she was still sitting up. "You need to sleep." He saw her tense at the mention of her sleeping.

"So do you," she told him, trying to change the focus of the conversation.

"Exactly," he told her, "which isn't going to happen as long as you're sitting up, looking worried." When she didn't move, his expression and his voice both softened. "Come on… What's the worst thing that can happen?"

Sighing in pretend exasperation with him for being right, she smiled as she made a conscious effort to relax. Slowly she shifted herself until she was lying down, close in front of him, looking into his eyes.

"You can still change your mind," he whispered.

"I'm beginning to think you want me to change my mind," she teased him.

"Not at all," he said, shaking his head. "On the contrary, I like it here… But if you want me to go, I'll go."

"I don't want you to go, okay?" she whispered in exasperation.

"Okay," he replied with a chuckle, reaching for her right hand with his left, pulling it into the space between them. Once again, he curled his fingers around the side of her hand, his thumb immediately beginning to trace lines inside her palm. The sensation was even more relaxing now than it had been the first time, since she was now lying down and looking into his eyes. The feeling made her smile, tiredness creeping quickly into every inch of her body. It was only seconds before she found that she couldn't keep her eyes open, despite her best attempts.

Because he knew how she felt about sleep, he hadn't expected her to start falling asleep so quickly – but maybe she was even more worn out than he'd assumed. "Good night, Jane," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her gently. Moving back only a fraction of an inch, he let his face rest so close to hers that he wasn't entirely convinced their noses weren't touching, resting there for a few seconds, then opening his eyes and watching the smile on her face grow even wider. He was surprised when her eyes fluttered halfway open, just enough for her to look into his, then to close the tiny distance between them and plant a short but sweet, sleepy kiss on his lips before snuggling closer to him.

Feeling too tired to feel self-conscious just then as she began to drift off, she had the fleeting feeling that tomorrow morning she might be slightly embarrassed by how the evening had ended, but couldn't bring herself to care. After all, at that particular moment, it was hard to convince herself that something that felt so perfect was anything but just that – perfect.

You know better than to believe that perfect is even possible for you, the cautious voice in her head reminded her. Haven't you been through enough to know better?

All I know is, she thought in reply, living like that is exhausting. This may be a mistake, but… what if it's not? I know what it's like to lose this without even having had it – to lose him – and now I'd like to know what it's like to have it. Even if it doesn't work. This feeling is worth the risk.

It was something of a revelation, something that she stumbled upon only in her last few seconds of consciousness, which allowed her to go to sleep with a smile on her face.

He moved his head back onto his pillow, scooting it forward so that his pillow touched the edge of hers, then leaning forward until there was less than an inch between their noses. She'd already moved herself forward, closer to him, and tucked her head against him. Reaching his free hand lightly over her waist, he couldn't help the feeling that this was simply perfect. Like everything else with Jane, it had taken something rather hellish – their (mostly her) flashbacks of that horrible night – but it had given them something heavenly – ending up here. Attempting to appreciate the irony, he felt his mind shutting down faster than he wanted it to. Jane wasn't the only one who was exhausted, after all. He pulled her towards him protectively as he surrendered to sleep as well.

It seemed like no time later at all that Jane felt herself waking up. She still felt exhausted, which was normal. After all, she never really slept long enough to feel refreshed, only barely long enough for her body to recharge just enough to function. However, along with her regular feeling of exhaustion, she felt something else, something she couldn't identify. Laying still and trying to figure out the difference, she suddenly felt herself being shifted slightly, and it all came flooding back to her.

Peering back over her shoulder, she saw the edge of Kurt's forehead and couldn't help but smile. They'd shifted in their sleep, and he was now curled up behind her, his arm around her waist, holding her close. She leaned her head back against his face, suddenly feeling like she simply wasn't close enough to him – which seemed silly since they were already so close together – and to her surprise, felt him kiss the back of her head.

"Don't be awake yet," he murmured from behind her. "This is too perfect for it to be morning yet." There was certainly no arguing with that logic, as far as she was concerned. Besides, it was still just as dark outside as it had been when they'd gone to bed. She could have moved to look at the clock, but… she was so absolutely happy with where she was, knowing the time just didn't seem like a good enough reason to move. Even more than that, moving seemed like something that would actually spoil this feeling. She didn't really want to know how close they were to having to get up. In this case, ignorance was bliss.

"Okay," she whispered tiredly, "but we can't sleep all day. My boss is going to wonder if I don't show up for work."

"I'll deal with your boss," he said, moving closer to her ear to whisper beside it. "It's not time to get up yet. Just… go back to sleep."

"I'll try," she replied, feeling strange talking to him when he was behind her. "But being awake is a pretty great feeling right now." When he chuckled, she felt the rumble through her whole body, and she felt her chest ache a little – but this time with happiness. Closing her eyes, she inhaled slowly and deeply, as if somehow she could capture everything about this moment and freeze it in time by doing so.

He felt the change in her breathing, and instinctively tightened his arm around her protectively. "You okay?" he asked beside her ear.

"No," she whispered, and for a second she felt him tense. But when she added, "I'm so much better than okay," he relaxed immediately and grinned at her humor. The low rumble of his chuckle moved through her again then as he shook his head, leaning his forehead against her hair, wishing that this day wasn't like all the others – that they wouldn't soon have to get up and save the world from Sandstorm again, or at least try. It would be so much better to just stay exactly where they were for as long as possible.

But you're here now, the voice in his head reminded him. Whatever else happens, you're here at this moment. With Jane. And that's already more than you thought you'd ever have, after everything you two have been through. Smiling so hard he wondered if she could feel it through the back of her head, he kissed her hair and pulled his arm more tightly around her. It simply could not get more perfect than this.

What if it can? the voice in his head asked.

Then I'm even luckier than I thought, he replied silently as he felt himself drifting back to sleep.

Jane had been awake for a while now, and noticed when his arm loosened slightly around her and his breathing slowed down. He'd gone back to sleep, she could tell. In some ways she wanted to do that too, but in other ways, she wanted to drink in every moment possible of this feeling. After all, she had a lot of bad memories to make up for. This feeling was even better than she could have anticipated, and she focused on savoring it the best she could. However, she allowed herself to close her eyes, reasoning that since he was behind her, she wasn't missing out on anything, anyway. Before she knew it, she felt herself getting sleepy again, despite her determination to stay awake and enjoy this feeling.

Later, she knew, they would have to get up, working side by side and yet painfully far away, possibly putting their lives in danger, in order to protect themselves, each other and millions of other people. But that was later.

Right now, there was only the two of them, and that was perhaps the best feeling in the world, as far as she was concerned. Her last thought before she fell asleep once more was that despite everything that had gone wrong in her life – and in Remi's – the most important thing, and perhaps the most unlikely, the one that made everything else seem unimportant, had gone right.

This.

A/N: I know, I know, you don't want me to end it there. But this was never going to be a long fic. Originally I just wanted to write the kiss scene that we didn't get in the bar in 219, but you guys pretty much know by now that I have trouble stopping at one scene. You probably also know by now that whatever I come up with next, I'll probably just continue to write other versions of these two getting together – I've noticed that that's all I really do. :) So don't worry, I'm sure inspiration will strike me again soon. In the meantime, I'll go back to updating I See You, and maybe even get more than two chapters done before I start something else. LOL! (Maybe. But the way I've been going, I wouldn't put money on it.) Thank you all for once again being such a wonderful, supportive audience. Blindspot fans really are the best.