A/N: This is the last chapter I wrote for this arc, way back when I was writing this all in the first place. With a little prodding, I finally did enough editing to get it up but this is most likely the end of this fic! I think it was originally meant to be 5 parts so... 24 extra chapters somehow happened. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed along the way, I hope this is enough of an ending to give some closure to the story.
It takes three days for the fatigue to really catch up with her, the long nights watching over Weller finally hitting Jane hard on her first day back at the NYO after taking two days off to keep an eye on her stubborn patient. He'd remained feverish but was convinced that he was fine to return to work now that he wasn't actively dying. So of course she'd stayed home to make sure well-intentioned-but-still-sick Kurt didn't follow her the minute she went to the office.
Thankfully her tiredness doesn't cost her much, just a few bruised ribs from misjudging a counterstrike and getting thrown down hard and kicked in the torso in the middle of a tussle with a perp. Jane had still recovered right away, taking the guy down with her next few moves but she's irritated with herself for the mistake.
She had to admit, she'd been exhausted and her mind elsewhere. Tending to Weller had become both a blessing and a curse. Jane loved the relaxed way in which he would slumber; even covered in wounds, with an IV in one hand and a cast on the other. For two nights after the emergency doctor visit she had continued to watch him, sometimes drawing or reading but mostly just sitting beside him in the bed, assuring herself that he was safe. Then, both nights, sometime in the wee hours she'd fallen asleep beside him; somehow finding herself entangled in his arms when she woke at dawn.
It wasn't really the lack of sleep that was wearing her down though; more the questions of the undefined something between them and the weight of her worry. When Jane had offered to take care of him she hadn't thought he would let her get so close. And now she feels conflicted in every way, can't get Weller out of her head or her heart.
Which had led to the incident at work, the soreness in her chest as Jane finally trudges back to the safe house. The case they'd been on had lasted well into the evening and she had felt herself waning through the night, due to lack of sleep and increasing physical discomfort.
Jane opens the door as quietly as she can, thinking that Weller must already be asleep. He's still been fatigued, fighting off the infection. But at least the doctor had come the previous day and been pleased with his progress, prescribing one more day of the IV antibiotics before switching to oral meds.
She slips in quietly, sighing in relief at the end to a long day. If Weller is asleep then she can skip the dilemma of where she's meant to be sleeping; pass out in her own bed and avoid her awkward anxiety about the state of their relationship.
But of course he's dozing on the couch, snaps to attention and pushes to his feet as soon as Jane enters the room. He winces with the sudden movement then tries to mask it with a concerned frown.
"You're late," he says. "Did something happen?"
"You should be sleeping," she replies, deflecting.
"All I do is sleep," Weller mutters. "I was worried."
Jane sighs, gives him a little scowl.
"Weller, we work late all the time," she groans.
"Yeah, well it's hard not knowing what's going on," he grumbles. "I was just losing it a bit. I know you haven't been sleeping much."
The truth is she hasn't slept much since her stay with the CIA, the nightmares still too raw. But he's also right; she is more tired than usual. All the worry she carries about him, it weighs her down, makes her feel drawn out and slow.
"Enough," she argues.
"Not if you look that tired," he says.
Jane rolls her eyes at him, wonders where this is all going to go.
"I should go to bed then," she tries, thinking she sees an avenue of escape.
But things are never that easy with Weller and he makes a move to cut her off, gives her a disapproving look.
"Come here," he says, his voice disarmingly warm and easy despite the furrow in his brow.
She had told herself that it was a bad idea. That there was no clearer way for both parties to be hurt. She's on a path towards destruction and he's an assistant director at the FBI. He himself had told her that it was a bad idea, that he should leave. And still she couldn't give him up, do the right thing.
So Jane steps to him, lets him fold her into his arms. There is nothing more comforting than laying her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. Even if he is rubbing circles on her back with a casted hand and she has to be careful not to squeeze on his wounds.
For a long while she just stands there and breathes him in, tries not to think about all the negative thoughts that stir in her mind.
Finally, Weller breaks the silence, but not until she had almost fallen asleep leaning into him, her worries fading with exhaustion.
"So what happened?"
Jane shakes her head against his chest, sighing as reality kicked back in.
"Nothing happened," she says, exhaling tiredly. "I just can't do this."
"Why not?" he asks, his breath warm against her scalp.
As if he needed it explained to him. She should just make him remember what he thought of her just a couple of weeks ago.
"You're not mine, Kurt," she replies. "I shouldn't pretend. It just makes it harder."
Jane feels stupid, knows that this whole living arrangement was her idea in the first place. She had just thought he wouldn't want to keep bringing them closer; that she would be able to maintain a comfortable emotional distance.
Zero for two, she thinks with a wince as Weller bring his hands up to her face, lifting her head off of his chest and tilting it up to look at him.
"If I'm being honest, I've been yours from the start," he says. "But is that what you want?"
Why did he have to make doing the right thing so goddamned hard? She can't lie to him, not anymore. And certainly not about this.
Jane looks into the softness of his blue eyes, still can't quite believe the words coming out of his mouth. It was one thing to take care of him because he's a stubborn bastard, fall asleep next to him when he's injured and feverish. There are so many reasons they shouldn't do this, both of them almost guaranteed to be hurt in the end.
But tonight she's too worn out and achy to resist his arms, his emotional truths. Does she want him to be hers? Of course she does. She's just never let herself think about it since she's been back.
"Yes," she admits shyly.
Weller's eyes twinkle and his mouth curves upwards with her single word. Then he tips her jaw up, brings his lips to hers in a gentle, questioning kiss.
Jane closes her eyes and internally sighs in contentment. She'd really thought this would never happen again, that she would never again feel his hands run through her hair while kissing her lovingly.
It was so Kurt, gently probing her comfort level, despite her open invitation. But the moment his mouth is on hers Jane loses the last of her inhibition and reaches one hand behind Kur'ts head, pulling him to her as she deepens the kiss, her fingers grasping at his short hair.
Weller emits a low satisfied groan, his tongue going in for playful exploration as she forgets how to breathe, just falls into the feeling of Kurt's mouth on hers.
Much too soon though, he pulls away, giving her an unwanted opportunity to catch her breath. She looks up at him with a question in her eyes, euphoric and weary all at once.
"You're exhausted," he declares, his eyes much too kind.
"I'm fine," Jane responds, reflexively.
"And you lied to me," he adds, still in the same worried tone.
Now she's genuinely confused, looks up at him with a frown.
"What did I lie about?" she asks.
"You said nothing happened today," he replies. "But I heard some perp hit you hard enough you let medical check you for broken ribs."
"Oh," Jane says, not sure how to respond. She had genuinely not thought that was significant enough to mention, bruised ribs not even qualifying as an incident anymore.
"It was nothing," she finishes, flinching at how defensive she sounds.
"Or a tired slip up," Kurt suggests, tilting his head sympathetically. "Because you've been up taking care of an idiot with an infection."
A little smile peeps out at his comment, at how ridiculously sweet he is.
"But you're my idiot right?"
The grin that spreads across Weller's face is dazzling, makes her eyes light up with joy.
"Yeah. I sure am," he replies, his eyebrow raising suggestively as he looks deep into her, placing a soft kiss on her lips.
"And there'll be lots of time for more of this. But right now, you need sleep."
She wants to disagree but doesn't even have the energy to muster a defence. So Jane just nods against his chest, finding his hand and lacing her fingers between his as he leads her to bed.
thanks for reading!