It will be okay. Also, I don't speak German, so if you have issues, blame google translate.

Sometimes living takes more courage than dying. –Jane Yolen

It took every ounce of strength for Jane to continue on.

She had stared down, in shock, in confusion, in pain. She hadn't even fully grasped what it meant before a loud pounding on the bathroom door interrupted her thoughts. Jane quickly wiped away the tears she hadn't known had fallen, and hurried out to the common area.

"It doesn't change anything," she thought, the line repeating like a mantra over and over again as it ran through her head. She struggled to breath, to hold on to any thought before the pain took over. She had known this was a possibility. Jane knew that. She knew that. But all that was before, before it was a real thing. Before she had the glimmer of hope, that she was pregnant, that maybe she and Kurt could have a family, that they could be happy.

Jane tried to tell herself that she could still protect Kurt. She had lost everything yesterday, but she could still protect him. She had to protect him. Jane swallowed her pain, and vowed to keep going. For Kurt.

Jane set off, even more unsure than she had been in the past. She mindlessly boarded the first bus she found, not even caring where it was going.

She stared out the window for hours, watching the scenery change from the snowy foothills of the Alps to low lying plains and river beds. They passed through cities and small towns, and everything in between. Jane had no idea how much time had passed or even where she was when she departed at nightfall.

Jane walked around the town before finding a small room available. Her German wasn't great, but it worked. Or perhaps the owner just took pity on her – her hair was dirty and matted, her clothes worn. Jane pushed a pile of Euros towards him and the questions ended.

The room was small, the bed was old, but that didn't matter. She stared off into space, trying to process everything that had happened over the past few days, few weeks, few months. It all seemed so long ago, almost like a dream – one that she was slowly forgetting was ever real.

She closed her eyes, trying to hold on to memories before they drifted further away.

Jane stripped down to take a shower, try to wash the grime and pain of the day away. It was only then, as her clothes lay on the floor, that she saw it.

The pregnancy test. The one she had stuck in her pocket as she ran. The one she had held on to, to make it feel real.

Jane sat on the bed and cried, not caring who heard her anguished screams.

The sun peeking through the windows was what finally woke Jane. She wasn't sure how long she actually slept – like the morning before, she felt even more exhausted than she had when she had fallen asleep. Her eyes were puffy from the tears, her head was pounding, and her side still ached from the fight. Not only did her whole body hurt, Jane felt her weak, the emotional pain draining any strength she could muster.

She wanted to stay there another day. She wanted to hide in the old bed with the lumpy mattress and not move, not think. She thought about how easy it would be to go up, shove another handful of bills at the old man, and come back to bed. But at the same time, Jane knew she couldn't do that. Last time she'd stayed in the same place, they'd found her.

And she feared that this time, she'd let them kill her.

She packed up her stuff, splashing her face with water. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

The streets were busier than the night before, the cacophony of traffic and voices overlapping around her. It almost felt like home, but on a much smaller scale. Everyone was involved with their own tasks, their own little world. She walked a few blocks aimlessly, until a small bakery caught her eye. She hadn't eaten in who knows how long, and the smells wafting through the air were irresistible. Jane eagerly bought one, and found a small table by the window. She picked at the sweet bread, feeling more capable than she had in the morning. She knew then that she could keep going, putting one foot in front of the other. That was the only option really, the only way to survive this pain.

She shoved half of the roll into her bag, unwilling to stay still any longer.

She found the bus depot where she'd departed 12 hours before, but the next bus wasn't due until the afternoon. So Jane set off on foot, afraid that if she waited, she'd get complacent. She had made the decision to go, and wasn't going to wait for a bus.

It didn't take long before Jane regretted that decision. The adrenaline that had fueled her first day of walking had long since faded. Her side ached with every breath, her feet burned with each step, it was as if her body was fighting her the entire way, telling her she should have stayed back, stayed in bed. And with nothing to distract her on the monotonous, well-worn paths, her mind kept cycling back to the same thought.

She'd lost the baby.

It was her fault.

She'd lost the baby.

It had only been a few days, and now it was gone.

It was all her fault.

She replayed the fight over and over again, blaming herself for every missed opportunity, every blow they landed, everything she had done wrong. If she hadn't left Kurt in the middle of the night, if they had taken out Sandstorm earlier. If she hadn't ….

The list went on and on.

And once again, she found herself wishing that she had died in that hotel room.

The tears started to fall, and Jane was unable to stop them. This was what she got, for thinking she was finally happy with Kurt, for believing that she was worthy of happiness. It had seemed to perfect in Colorado. If she had been back there, it would have been perfect. They'd be celebrating together, instead of mourning alone. He didn't know. He would never know.

The sun was high in the sky when she finally allowed herself to stop. The park was busy, filled with people – couples walking together, runners sprinting along trails, children playing with friends. It was a scene she had seen a million times before. It was a scene that was repeated in every park around the world. It simultaneously reminded Jane of home, and how far away home really was.

Jane sat on a bench, watching the people go by. She thought about how Kurt had taken her to Central Park for a picnic right after they started dating. She had known Central Park was big, but it wasn't until Kurt kept leading her along the paths, twisting further and further into the park that she realized just how big it really was. When they stopped, it was a field just like this one – filled with people and noises and joy. Jane hadn't expected it to feel as intimate as it did. They were surrounded by people, but still, it felt like her and Kurt were the only ones there. They talked about their future, the FBI, Colorado, Roman, everything. They'd stayed there all afternoon, just the two of them.

She thought about the park down the street from his apartment. It was small, barely qualifying as a park. But she knew that Kurt liked to go there to think, especially after a long day at work. Sometimes, she'd follow him, but other times, Jane would let him go, knowing he needed to be alone. And when he would come back, she was always waiting for him, ready to give him a hug and tell him that she loved him.

There was a park like that in Colorado also – Jane thinks that why he fell in love with the house, even with as much work as it needed – the park was just a short walk away. It was quieter in Colorado, no constant drone of the city. But there were stars, so many stars. Jane remembered the first clear night, after they moved in. She'd been the one out in the park, staring upwards in awe.

But that was all gone now. She was halfway across the world, and completely alone.

Jane's heart ached. Everything hurt, and she could no longer separate the physical pain from the emotional pain.

She knew she should keep moving. Movement gave her a purpose, something to focus on. But she couldn't force herself to move, to stand up. Her head started to swim, and she began to feel lightheaded. Pain shot through her body every time she took a breath, and she started to gasp for air.

"Ah, hallow. Du bist wach," a cheery voice said.

Jane's eyes blinked as she tried to focus. The light was blindingly bright, and her head was foggy, she couldn't concentrate on anything. She noticed that she didn't hurt anymore, but still, her body felt disconnected from her, as if she was drugged. She tried to remember what happened, but couldn't remember anything past the park.

"Wh – " she croaked out, her mouth dry. "Where am I?"

"Diakoniekrankenhaus Halle" the voice replied.

Jane could see the nurse now, the woman in white busying herself checking Jane's chart and making notes.

"Wie heißen Sie?" she asked, staring at Jane.

"Jane," she answered automatically, before cringing inwardly. She wasn't Jane here. She couldn't use her real name; she didn't even have any IDs with Jane on them. "Jane… Alexander," she replied, using Kurt's middle name. Kurt had teased her when they had talked about if she would take his last name when they got married. She'd laughed and explained that she wanted to keep Doe because it was such a good conversation starter. But now, after everything she'd gone through, she wanted to feel closer to Kurt, even if in name only.

The nurse kept talking, but Jane only heard bits and pieces as she looked around the room. The walls were white and sterile, and a curtain separated one half of the room from the other. She wanted to know how she got here, how long she had been here.

"…gebrochene Rippe, aber es geht Ihnen und dem Baby gut."

Jane's attention snapped back to the nurse. What did she say? "Baby?"

"Ja du bist schwanger." The nurse looked confused and started mimicking the action of rocking a baby in her arms.

"Baby?" Jane repeated. "No…" her mind raced. This couldn't be possible. This had to be some sort of translation error. Her German wasn't great; she clearly misunderstood what the nurse was saying. "No, no, I had a miscarriage."

"Baby," the nurse repeated, continuing to move her arms. She stared at Jane, as if this alone would convince her. "Eine sekunde," she said, walking out of the room. A moment later she reappeared, another nurse by her side.

"Hi," the second nurse started. "You speak English?" he asked, his accent thick but Jane nodded appreciatively. "You broke a rib, but you and the baby will be fine. We've got you on some drugs for the pain, but the most important thing is –"

Jane cut him off. "No, I…. I lost the baby. There was blood," she tried to explain again.

"Ah, no, see – pregnant," he pointed to a line on the chart. "Few weeks."

He continued to talk, giving explanations and medical terms that Jane barely heard. She was pregnant. Or more, she was still pregnant. She hadn't lost the baby somehow. Her mind raced, but this time, it was with happier thoughts. It wasn't over. She hadn't failed.

The nurse finally left, after asking her a few more questions, and Jane lay back in her bed, exhausted, scared, happy, confused … she didn't know what she was feeling. But she only had one thought on her mind.+

After a quick check to make sure the other bed was empty, Jane dialed the room phone to the number she knew by heart.

"I'm coming home."

The pro is that it at least ends at a natural kind of point. Jane is coming home to Weller.

Truthfully, this story has a lot more in my head, but I've been struggling with motivation and it just isn't there. Even though I know exactly what I want to happen, I can't manage to care more than a one paragraph summary (Jane makes it, but Kurt gets hurt, she reaffirms she's there for him and they are stronger together).

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this and review. It means so much more than I can say.