A/N: Here I am with another fic. This is another BTHB fic. The prompt is Revenge by Proxy. Here be angst, plenty of angst and pain. Personally, I think this is the angstiest fic I've written, at least that's what it felt like when writing it. But it does end with a hopeful note, so there is that.

Thank you to eblonde and Indelible Evidence, for your encouragement and help when writer's block hit, and my dear beta for, again, helping me keep things coherent and honing this fic with me.

Trigger warning: this fic contains descriptions of physical torture, so be aware.

Disclamer: All rights belong to MG & co. I'm just a fan borrowing the characters.

Summary: A past raid gone wrong comes back to haunt Kurt as its target is determined to take revenge.

Payback

Kurt blinked a few times as the hood was pulled from his head, trying to get his eyesight back after the prolonged darkness.

He looked around the semi-dark room. It seemed like he was in something resembling an interrogation observation room, but slightly larger. There was a desk in front of him, and a wall-wide window, with blinds drawn. He was sitting in a chair, with his hands cuffed behind him. Before he could figure out exactly where he was, the door to the room opened and a man stepped inside. Kurt stared at him, puzzled by who he saw.

"Hello, Special Agent Weller," the man greeted him in a cheery, almost manic, tone. "It has been a few years."

"Mike Hayes." Kurt glared at the man. "What do you want?"

Hayes walked over to the window, his tone turning dark as he drew the blinds.

The sight that greeted him nearly made Kurt's heart stop and the hair at the back of his neck stood up. "Jane."

She was held by the arm in a vice grip by a brute of a man who probably was one of Hayes' underlings. She, too, had her hands cuffed behind her back, but other than that, she looked unharmed.

Hayes grinned at Weller, his eyes taking on a satisfied glint as he saw Kurt's reaction.

"Years ago, as deputy director, you sanctioned a raid that killed my wife. Now–"

"She was caught in the exchange of fire when your security opened fire on FBI agents. My agents had a warrant to search the house for money and –."

"QUIET!"

As Hayes shouted, Kurt felt a blow to the head, his field of vision exploding in a flash of pain behind his eyelids. Soon he felt the warm blood starting to run down the side of his head.

Hayes' voice turned deeper. "My wife was innocent; she wasn't involved in my business dealings. And you took her from me!" His voice took on a malevolent tone. "All I got was a phone call that she had been killed in an FBI raid. I hadn't been there; I was helpless to stop it! Later, I wondered if I should just end my life and join her. And then I learned you didn't even get a reprimand." He stepped closer to Kurt, leaning in towards him. "Now, I have your wife, and I'm going to make you feel the same pain and helplessness that I felt when I lost mine."

Kurt stared coldly into the other man's eyes. "You lay one hand on Jane, and I swear I will –"

"You're hardly in a position to make demands, Special Agent Weller." Hayes walked back to the window, flicking a switch next to the window.

Kurt shouted in protest as he saw the first blow strike Jane's stomach. A guard grabbed his shoulder as he struggled to get up, while watching the man behind the glass continue hitting Jane as she sunk to the floor from the repeated blows.

"Jane! JANE!"

Hayes laughed, grinning at Kurt's despair. "She can't hear you, or see you. That's a one-way mirror. But you can hear and see her."

Seeing Jane lie on the floor and get beaten tore at Kurt. "Stop! Please, stop hitting her," he looked at Hayes.

Hayes pressed the talk button of a small PMR-radio twice, and the man beating Jane stopped.

Kurt let out a long breath, but his relief was premature.

The man and his companion forced a garden hose into Jane's mouth, forcing her to swallow water straight from the hose, her stomach distending from the amount. She struggled and sputtered but the men didn't stop.

Kurt screamed out her name, slumping in his chair as she seemed to lose consciousness.

She was almost out when one of the men kicked her in the stomach, hard, causing her to violently throw up all the water she had ingested. She tried to curl up to protect herself, but the man stomped on her again.

Watching Jane groan and gag helplessly as the goon stomped on her stomach, caused rage to flare inside Kurt. "You bastard!". He stood quickly and rushed at Hayes before the guard could stop him, never mind that his hands were cuffed behind his back.

Before he could get close enough to head-butt the other man, Kurt was hit with a vicious punch to his gut, dropping him to his knees, followed by a kick that made him curl up on the floor as pain flashed behind his eyes. He couldn't suppress a groan as Hayes kneeled above him, pressing his knee into Kurt's abdomen.

"This is your only warning. You try anything like that again, and it will be your wife who pays the price," he spoke menacingly.

Jane was curled in on herself, her attempts to disassociate herself from the pain in her torso interrupted by the occasional cough as she spit out the remains of the water she'd inhaled. "Pain is a dream." She had reverted to her old coping mechanism, but it wasn't as effective as it used to be. She had no idea who these men were or what they wanted. They hadn't asked her anything, only hurt her. And worst of all, she had no idea where Kurt was. Was he injured? Was he here? She hadn't heard his voice from anywhere. She remembered they had been together when they were attacked, but almost as soon as the attack started, things had faded into darkness until the kicks had woken her and she'd found herself lying on the floor.

Soon, she saw the door opening, and a man in slacks and a button-down shirt roughly dragged her up. Trying to stay defiant, she glared at him. "What do you want?"

He manhandled her out of the room. "I want to show you something," the man nearly spat back. He was angry or frustrated.

About 10 feet away, he stopped at a doorway, gripping Jane's arm.

What she saw, stole her breath.

On the floor, was Kurt. He was completely still, his hair matted with blood that had also ran down his face.

"He's dead. My intention was to keep him alive, but apparently one of my men hit him too hard over the head and killed him." He sounded almost regretful.

Jane gasped Kurt's name, tearing away from the grip holding her and dropping to her knees next to her husband.

"No, no," she shook her head in desperation as she reached a trembling hand to touch his bloody cheek. "No, Kurt. Please no!" The tears came fast, and she struggled to breathe with the emotion, running her fingers over Kurt's face. She trailed them down his neck, desperately searching for a pulse, but finding none. "NOOO!" She wailed, as she caressed his cheek. "Kurt…" Her eyesight was blurred by more tears as she turned to look at her captor. "Why are you doing this?!" She nearly screamed at him, before another sob stole her breath. "Why?" Jane whimpered and leaned in to gather Kurt in her arms.

Before she had a chance to do so, her captor dragged her forcefully away, despite her struggles and sobs. "No…Kurt…no! Let go of me! KURT!" She fought but the shock of what had happened, of Kurt's death, deflated her. She had no one left. She was alone.

"I thought you should see that. Now you know my pain," the man growled before he shoved her back into her makeshift cell and slammed the door shut.

Jane curled into a ball and a sob tore from her throat, unable to stop the tears. Kurt was gone.

Kurt gasped for air, trying to ward off the sudden feeling of nausea. What had just happened? He remembered Hayes injecting him with something and then things went dark.

"Ah, welcome back. Get him up." He heard Hayes' voice from somewhere behind him and then someone dragged him up, cuffing his behind the back of the same chair they'd sat him on before.

His nausea was soon forgotten: in front of him, in the adjacent room, lay Jane. He couldn't see her face, but he saw her shoulders shaking. He glared at Hayes. "What have you done to her? Let my wife go!"

Hayes gave him a satisfied grin, taking obvious pleasure in Kurt's anger and anxiety. "She thinks you're dead. I showed her your "body."

Kurt connected the dots. He had been injected with the same drug Roman had used in Venice, and they had shown his body to Jane, when he appeared dead.

His anger flared, and he tried to get up, but the chair he was attached to, and a vicious blow between his shoulder blades, kept him from reaching Hayes.

His eyes landed again on his wife. "Oh, Jane." He knew what a devastating effect of seeing him lifeless would have had on her. She had lost her brother not that long ago, and had almost died herself about a month ago.

Hayes let him watch Jane, as she cried silently on the floor. Kurt wanted nothing more than to get up and go to her, reassure her that he was alive, and he would get her out of here.

The door rattled as two men entered the room she was in. They dragged her off the floor, attaching her to something that was like a cross-beam, her pose like a person on a crucifix. She was completely exposed to anything they chose to do to her. Now Kurt could see her eyes, and the look in them made his throat constrict. Jane was scared.

"What do you want?" She asked them, trying to put on a brave face and to sound defiant, but her tone betrayed her.

The two didn't answer her; one of them walked to the side of the room within Jane's view and picked up a short plank. He turned it over in his hands and approached her, staring her down, a slight smile on his face.

Kurt saw her tense, as she realized what was about to happen. She groaned in pain as the plank connected with her side in a sickening thud. After a few more blows, Jane let out a scream as it hit a sore spot in her side. That only seemed to encourage the man, and he put even more force behind the next hits.

"Stop!" He demanded of Hayes, but his words went unanswered as the men continued hitting her in turns.

Jane shivered against the cold. He clothes were wet again from another water cure session she had endured. She tried to move her arms, hoping to relieve the strain on her shoulders. It was like a permanent stretch, the pressure making breathing more difficult, especially with the broken ribs. She tried to take shallow breaths; if she breathed deeply, she swore she could feel the ends grind against each other. Her feet barely touched the floor. If she really tried her toes would touch it, but trying to stay on her toes was no help as the weight got too painful after a while. Defeated, she let her head drop to her chest.

How long had she been here? Two days, three? She had lost track of time with the lack of sleep, the near constant torture and the mental shock. She suppressed a whimper, the image of Kurt's dead body flashing in front of her eyes. When she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could still feel his touch on her skin, smell the scent that was him. But now she was alone. She still had no idea why she was here, the men torturing her never asked her anything, they just seemed to want to cause her pain.

Hearing the door open, Jane wearily lifted her head from her chest to see the man in the button-down shirt enter again. His appearance made him appear so out of place that it almost felt surreal. In his shirt and slacks he looked more like a CEO out of a boardroom than a torturer. She felt a shiver run through her as she saw him tinker with something on the table that she had noticed held the different implements of her torture. She gathered her resolve, trying to sound strong. "Why are you doing this?"

The man stayed silent for a moment, almost as if contemplating something. "I've spent the past 4 years in hell thanks to your husband. Now it's your turn to suffer, just as I did."

Jane tried to wrap her mind around the new piece of information. This must be related to something that happened when Kurt was in charge of the NYO. The realization was like another gut punch. "You killed him for vengeance? What have we done to you?" The last question held a note of desperation. "You don't have to do this."

"Nothing will ever undo what that man did to me. He deserved to die. Be thankful I've no desire to kill you too."

Jane saw what he was holding as he turned to her. She tried to get away, tears running down her cheeks, as she shook her head, as if that would make her torturer reconsider.

But it was no use. She could only scream as the electric current charged through her body, making the muscles feel like they were torn from the bone. It felt worse than she had remembered. It made her skin feel like it was on fire. As she gasped for air into her burning lungs, she realized why: the bioluminescent tattoos. It was the ink that made her skin feel like it was burning.

Her tormentor looked at her with an almost satisfied look on his face, as she cried out in agony, her pain almost seeming to drive him on. She tried to contain her screams, but he always found a new vulnerable spot on her body with the electrodes, and she screamed. After a while she blacked out again, only to be woken up with a bucketful of cold water and the agony started again.

It had been quiet again for some time, too quiet for Kurt's liking. After the last session with Jane, they had blocked the view again. He couldn't see her or hear her and that was making him anxious. What were they doing to her?

Kurt looked around the darkened room, stopping to glare at the man left to guard him. He was about the same height as Kurt, but thinner. His face was gaunt, giving him an almost weasel-like appearance. He was wearing a pair of chinos and black polo shirt, the look more suitable for a casual business outing than a dark observation room. He saw Kurt watching him and looked away.

"Where's my wife?" Kurt demanded of him. "What are you doing to her?"

He refused to meet Kurt's eyes, turning away.

Kurt tried to move in the chair he was cuffed to, but it was no use. His wrists stung as the cuffs chafed them. He leaned slightly forward, trying to get closer.

"Where is my wife!?"

He tried talking to the man, over and over again, but to no avail. He didn't say a word.

Kurt's answer came a short time later as he heard Jane scream in agony again.

"Jane!" He tried to get up, frantically wanting to see what was happening to her, but his captor grabbed him, holding him still.

"What are you doing to her?! HAYES!"

Hayes was nowhere to be seen; most likely he was the one torturing her.

As time wore on, her screams turned to moans, and finally whimpers.

His mind kept conjuring up his every nightmare, every image worse than the last. A tear ran down his cheek. "Jane…"

He couldn't see her, but her quiet, pained cries as they finally left her alone, tore at his soul. Jane was alone and in pain, thinking him dead, and he couldn't go to her or comfort her. She was in pain, and there was nothing he could do.

"Do you know what this is?" Hayes asked Jane, turning the object in his hand.

Kurt felt the cold sweat run down his back, slightly shaking his head, trying not to think of where this was leading as he watched the events on the other side of the glass.

"I'm sure you do," Hayes grinned with malice, the flame of the large lighter flicking innocently in front of Jane's face.

He passed the lighter to his assistant, speaking a few unintelligible words to him before leaving the room.

Kurt noticed Hayes entering the room he was in, but his attention was on Jane.

Jane was silent, but Kurt could see the fear in her eyes. She bit down on her lip, but could only howl in agony as the fire touched her exposed side.

"NOOO!" Kurt screamed, seeing his wife writhing in pain as the man drew a path down her side with the flame licking at her skin. Kurt pulled in vain against his own restraints, blood running down his raw wrists. It barely registered with him, his entire focus on Jane.

"STOP!" He pleaded. "Stop hurting her!" As their torturer continued touching Jane's side with the flame and she screamed, Kurt grew more desperate, more defeated.

Tears ran down his face now, his head leaned on his chest briefly as he could no longer bear to watch Jane's torment. He lifted his head, a sound escaping him as he saw Jane sag against her restraints, barely conscious.

"Please stop. Please," he begged, his voice heavy with tears. "Please don't hurt Jane anymore. She hasn't done anything." He cast a look at Hayes, his voice breaking slightly. "Do what you want with me, but stop hurting my wife."

Hayes keyed the radio again, and his henchman stepped away from Jane. Hayes dropped the blinds again.

He walked to Kurt, and stared at him, suddenly grabbing Kurt's hair, yanking his head up as he growled. "My wife hadn't done anything either, and yet she died!"

Kurt grunted at the awkward angle putting strain on his shoulders. "It was an accident."

"You or your agents never got so much as a reprimand!"

"She was killed by your security, caught in the crossfire," Kurt tried to reason with him again.

"Fine, I'll stop." Hayes said suddenly and left the room.

Kurt felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. That was way too easy. What was Hayes going to do?

The next thing he heard was the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. He felt like his heart stopped for a moment, all air escaping his lungs.

A guttural scream tore from his throat. "NO! JANE!" He pulled in vain against the sturdy chair and the chafing handcuffs, trying to get up as one of Hayes' men manhandled him down onto the chair as he struggled against the man's grip. But the fight left him and he slumped back down.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears snaking down his cheeks as he shook his head. "No..no…"

A moment later he heard a broken, sharp scream over the intercom. The blinds were draws so he couldn't see but he recognized the voice. It was Jane. She was alive! Hayes hadn't killed her, at least not yet. His next words made Kurt's blood run cold:

"That was just the first shot. In twenty minutes, the next one will be your knee, and twenty minutes from that your other shoulder, and so on, assuming you're still alive then."

Kurt could just barely distinguish Jane's pained, weak "Why?"

"My wife died after being shot. Bleeding out, alone. And so, will you."

Kurt knew he needed to think of something, fast. He estimated it had been about 15 minutes since Hayes had shot Jane the first time. He knew the team was looking for them, but he had no idea where they were or how to contact them. How long had he and Jane been here? He estimated it must be over a day but less than two. There hadn't been many respites from the tortures, but it was still Hayes and a couple of his men. And based on Hayes' words, he was planning to kill them both soon.

After shooting Jane, he had come to the room to gloat, taking pleasure in seeing Kurt's anger and desperation, only laughing when Kurt had vowed to kill him. He had lifted the blinds and left, wanting Kurt to witness the next shot.

Kurt's heart shattered at the sight on the other side. Jane was slumped on the floor now, still and moaning quietly now and then, as the puddle of blood around her grew. Tearing his eyes away from Jane, he eyed the man behind him. He had to try something before Hayes got off another shot.

Just as he was about jump the man, they both heard it. Gunfire, from the other end of the building. The goon glanced at him and unholstered his pistol going to the door. As he opened the door, he was brought down by two shots to his chest.

That's when Kurt heard a familiar voice. "FBI." It was Reade.

"Reade! In here!"

In a few of seconds, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Weller–,"

"I'm okay. Go get Jane!" He nodded his head toward the next room anxiously.

As Reade left, he heard Patterson's voice and heard her step inside.

"Kurt. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, get me out of these cuffs. I need to get to Jane, she's hurt."

"Okay, hold on." He heard her dig out her key and felt her grab his hand as she turned it to access the lock.

Just as the cuff snapped free, Weller saw a reflection in the glass. Before he had a chance to react, he heard a gunshot that made his ears ring.

He rose, turning quickly. Beside him was Patterson, her pistol in her hand, and on the floor, with his throat gaping open from the passing bullet, was Mike Hayes.

He had sneaked up on them with a knife, no doubt planning to get his revenge on Kurt, come what may.

Hayes' breath came out as a gurgle, as he held his hand on his throat, trying in vain to stem the flow of blood. It was more of a reflex than anything. He knew he was dying, Kurt could tell.

Sputtering, blood coming from his lips, he fixed Kurt with a stare. "Go to hell, Weller."

Kurt couldn't help but feel a sense of justice as he saw the man who'd hurt Jane bleed out at his feet. "You first, Hayes."

A few more gurgling breaths later he was dead.

Kurt's attention shifted from Hayes' body to Reade, who entered the room with Jane in his arms.

"Kurt's right here. He's okay, Jane." Reade tried to reassure her, but his words had no effect. She was murmuring a string of what sounded like "No, no. He can't..."

Kurt forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat, as his eyes landed on her. Her wet hair was sticking to her skin, pain clearly etched on her face. Her side had angry red marks and a few large blisters where the fire had touched her skin. Reade had put a dressing on the gunshot wound on her shoulder, but the blood had colored her side, masking her skin. The blood was already starting to seep through the field dressing.

"Patterson, get the medics," he glanced at his friend, his voice seemingly unable to convey the urgency he felt, but as she brushed against his arm before leaving, he knew she understood.

Kurt stepped away from Hayes, closer to the corner, and sat down, giving Reade a thankful look as he carefully lowered Jane into his arms.

"Jane." Her name escaped his lips almost as an exhale. He had her back in his arms, the fear slightly abating. Still, he struggled to stay composed. But he had to, Jane needed him.

She let out what sounded like a fearful whimper when Reade set her down in his embrace, but hearing his voice, she opened her eyes.

"Kurt?" She squeaked as their eyes met. Her voice sounded pained, afraid, and hopeful at the same time.

"Hey," he spoke softly, nuzzling her.

She spoke his name again, almost like a wail as she buried her head in his chest, her uninjured arm clawing at his back before her fingers closed around his shirt in a death grip.

Blinking his tears away, he pressed his lips into her dark hair, breathing in her scent. "I'm here, my love. I'm here," he whispered to her, trying to soothe her.

Despite his tender reassurances her wails continued, her distress only growing.

As carefully as he could, Kurt took her uninjured hand that held his shirt, and placed it on his heart. He covered her hand with his, squeezing it lightly. "Hey…shh. It's okay. It's okay."

Jane slowly calmed, the sobs replaced by quiet moans of pain. The horror of what she had endured was starting to sink in for him. All around her body there were marks or trails of blood, reminders. And it was all because of him. She was in agony because of his actions. He silently prayed for Patterson to return with the medics soon.

The red stain on the dressing grew as the time ticked by. His throat constricted as Jane flinched when he pressed down, hard, on the wound.

Her agonized cry nearly broke his resolve.

"Forgive me," he whispered. "I know it hurts, but I have to try to stop the bleeding."

As the medics arrived, Kurt winced as he got up with Jane in his arms and was about to lay her on the gurney, when she grabbed his shirt again, refusing to let go.

"No…" Her eyes were wide, her breathing quickening as she glimpsed new people in the room.

He turned away from the others in the room and knelt, pulling her to him as tightly as he could. The rest of the world faded away, as he focused on his wife. She was shivering, he realized: she was going into shock. He could feel her rapid breaths of panic against his neck as she desperately sought shelter in his embrace. He kissed her temple, his voice low as he spoke, so that only she could hear him. "Shh, it's okay. You're safe."

Her only reply was a quiet whimper of his name.

Kurt swallowed another lump in his throat, feeling the tears brimming his eyes, as he witnessed her terror. Hayes' manipulation and torture had broken Jane. His strong, resilient wife was badly hurt, both physically and emotionally. The physical injuries would heal, but he was afraid if the emotional torture was too much for Jane this time, after all she had endured. He silently vowed to do anything to make sure she would recover.

He held her to him, murmuring softly. "I'm here. I'm right here. I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise." He caressed her cheek, meeting her eyes. "Jane. Please…"

She gave a tiny nod, and let go of his shirt as he lay her on the gurney. He took a step back, giving the medics room to work.

"Hi Jane," the medic spoke reassuringly to her. "I'm Anne and this is my partner, Eric. We're going to take good care of you, okay?"

As Anne was talking to Jane, preparing her for transport to the hospital and setting up an IV, Eric turned to Kurt, looking at his bloodied face and his raw, bleeding wrists.

Kurt gave a small shake of his head even before the man had a chance to speak. "I'm okay." He glanced at Jane before turning back to the younger man. "She needs you more than I do right now. Please."

Eric gave him a sympathetic look. "She's in good hands. But you still need to get checked out for a concussion and have those lacerations treated."

"Yeah," Kurt replied absentmindedly as he watched Anne work. Seeing Jane's pain and distress, he wanted nothing more than to hold her tight and take it all away. But he couldn't, and it was tearing him apart. Right now, there was nothing he could do to help the woman he loved.

Just as the medics were getting ready to load Jane in the ambulance, he woke from his trance. "Wait, please."

Anne stopped, understanding, and took a few steps back as Kurt approached the gurney.

Jane's eyes were closed, lines of pain creasing her forehead, and an oxygen mask covered her face.

"Jane," he spoke quietly, reaching up to caress her cheek.

"Kurt…"

He blew out a shuddering breath at her pleading tone, the helplessness in his mind almost overwhelming but he pushed it away. He needed to keep it together, for her sake. He gave her a loving smile, a slight quiver in his voice. "Everything is okay…I'll see you in the hospital." He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Jane."

Still, with her voice a weak whisper and the oxygen mask covering her features, he could discern her reply. "I love you, too."

He watched as they loaded her into the ambulance, his eyes following it until it disappeared behind the corner down the street.

He felt Patterson's hand on his forearm. "Come on, Kurt. I'll take you to the hospital."

Wordlessly, he followed his friend to the SUV.

"Kurt, sit down. Please." He heard Patterson's concerned voice behind him. "The doctor told you to take it easy."

He stopped his pacing and shook his head. Easy? How could he take it easy when Jane was in surgery? It had been a little over two hours since he and Patterson had arrived at the hospital. He was about ready to storm the ER, when he was stopped by a sympathetic ER clerk who reassured him that his wife was in good hands, and asked Kurt to fill out some basic information regarding Jane's care. That taken care of, the clerk had taken a look at Kurt and directed him to the nurses and doctors to get his injuries treated.

His physical injuries were minor, compared to Jane's. His wrists were bleeding and raw from the cuffs, and he had a cut on his head requiring a few stitches. His side sported some nasty, dark bruises, indicating bruised ribs, but it wasn't the first time.

Emotionally, however, it was a different story. He had been pacing the surgical floor's waiting room like a caged animal for the better part of an hour now, stopping a nurse to ask if she had any news of Jane. The young woman had replied in the negative, trying to reassure him that someone would come and get him as soon as there was any news.

He stared at the floor for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists. This is all your fault, his conscience berated him. She's hurt because she's married to you.

"I can't," he remarked to Patterson quietly as he turned to face her. "I can't take it easy. Not until I hear about Jane."

Patterson gave him an understanding look. "I know. But please sit down before you collapse out of exhaustion," she coaxed, patting a chair next to her.

Kurt relented, sitting down. "Patterson, I…" Heaving a sigh, he stared at the patterns of the floor tiles, as he leaned his forehead against his hand. His voice trembled and he could feel the tears brimming his eyes. "I hear Jane's agonized screams in my head. When I close my eyes, I see her body arching in pain as they torture her."

He felt Patterson lay her hand on his back gingerly, her touch providing a small measure of comfort.

"Kurt, she's gonna pull through," she whispered.

Kurt felt another pang of sadness when he realized Patterson had said those exact words to him a mere month ago.

"You both are," she continued.

"I hope you're right." He wanted to believe her words so badly, but he wasn't sure if he dared. "But this past month, with Remi and the ZIP…it's been rough on Jane." He turned to look at his friend, the tears brimming his eyes again. "I'm afraid she can't carry all that on her shoulders."

"She has you, and you have her. And the rest of us."

He nodded, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He hated being so emotional, but he couldn't help it.

"Kurt, what you and Jane have…the connection you share, it's unbreakable. It's incredibly strong and resilient. If there is anyone who can weather something like this, it's you," she said with conviction.

Another hour passed, before a doctor emerged, telling Kurt that Jane's surgery had gone fine and they were getting ready to move her from recovery to a room. The doctor also explained the full extent of Jane's injuries to him. She had second degree burns in her side, along with four broken ribs. She said they were worried about potential after effects and nerve damage due to the electrocution Kurt had mentioned, but they would be monitoring Jane's symptoms closely.

He and Patterson were now following a nurse along the winding hospital corridors, coming to a halt in front of a door.

The older nurse smiled gently at Kurt. "You can go see her now. They just brought her down from recovery, so she might still be groggy and sleepy."

Seeing the alarm on Kurt's face, she continued. "It's completely normal after a surgery like this, don't worry."

Kurt nodded his thanks at the nurse and she left, leaving the pair standing in front of the door.

Patterson gave him a reassuring nod as he grabbed the door handle. He felt the emotion well up inside him again. He blinked his tears away and released a shuddering breath, hesitating for a moment as he was about to open the door.

Patterson's touch on his arm and her gentle smile snapped him out of his reverie. "Go to her," she spoke to him softly. "I'll be here if you need anything."

He tried giving her a grateful smile but it faltered as soon as it appeared. "Thank you, Patterson."

He entered the hospital room, the memory of the last time in the hospital like this scorching at his heart. Here they were again. Jane was lying on the bed with her eyes closed, asleep by the looks of it. She was hooked up to a machine monitoring her vitals, and she had an IV and a pulse ox attached to her hand. Her face was pale, emphasizing the dark circles under her eyes as one of the telltale signs of her ordeal. He saw the dressing covering her shoulder peeking out from under her hospital gown.

He closed his eyes for moment, clenching his fists as he collected himself. His chest ached, seeing her like this again.

Stepping next to the bed, he reached out to brush a strand of hair off her cheek. He felt her tremble under his touch and she let out a small whimper.

"Shh, Jane," he hushed her tenderly, stroking her hair. "It's me. It's okay."

With effort, Jane opened her eyes enough so she could see him. "Hey," she mumbled, blindly searching for his hand.

Seeing her open her eyes, even just a little, spread a warm feeling into Kurt's chest. He took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "Hey."

He pulled up a chair, sitting beside her bed. Jane tried to keep her eyes open, but it was a battle doomed to fail. He couldn't help but smile at his wife's desperate stubbornness. She was gripping his hand as tightly as she could in her weakened state. He could feel her anxiety.

"You're in the hospital. You've just had surgery." Kurt brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I'm right here. Everything's okay." He leaned in close, caressing her forehead. As he continued his gentle ministrations, her grip on his hand loosened. "Rest now."

Jane's breathing evened and she fell back asleep, as Kurt made himself comfortable in the chair to continue his vigil by his wife's side.

It had been three days since the rescue. Aside from brief periods awake, Jane had spent most of the time in a painkiller-reinforced sleep, her body recovering from the ordeal. During that time, Kurt had barely left her side. He couldn't bear to leave her, wanting to make sure that she knew he was there. And staying close to her was the only thing soothing his own mind, the events of those couple of days playing on a loop in his head. He felt almost helpless as he stayed beside her, holding her hand and whispering reassurances and sweet nothings to her as she cried out in agony whenever the nurse changed the bandages and cleaned the angry, red burns that blotted her side.

What made him even more anxious now, was that Jane had developed a complication in her recovery. The gunshot wound in her shoulder had become infected. The doctors had started her on antibiotics earlier that day, hoping to curtail the infection so that it wouldn't develop into a life-threatening sepsis.

Kurt glanced at the monitor next to her bed. Her temperature was 103 and her breathing was rapid. They had given her medication to bring down the fever but it hadn't kicked in yet. He lay his hand on her forehead and frowned with worry. Her skin was hot to the touch, and he could see the slight sheen of sweat on her face in the dim light of the room.

Kurt went into the small bathroom, taking a washcloth and soaked it under the tepid water before wringing it. He took his seat beside Jane again, gingerly patting Jane's brow with the cool cloth.

Her face scrunched up, and she whimpered at the touch, restlessly turning her head away from the cool sensation. She weakly tried to swat the offending object away, but didn't wake.

"Jane. Shh…" Kurt soothed her as he gently grabbed her hand. "We need to bring your fever down. This will make you feel better."

She stopped resisting, but beyond that it seemed his words had little effect. Jane kept moving restlessly on the bed, mumbling incoherently. He was at a loss, seeing her like this.

He continued speaking to her softly as he brought the cloth down her cheeks and her neck, tracing the bird tattoo and then her arms. As the cloth dried, he soaked it again, and repeated the pattern before carefully placing the cloth on her forehead.

Despite his best efforts, it seemed that Jane only grew increasingly more distressed. Something was wrong.

Jane woke with a start. Her entire body hurt. She looked around and noticed she was back in the room where they had tortured her, lying on the floor. How? The rescue…Kurt. They got out, didn't they?

She looked at her hands, seeing the blood on them. Or had the rescue only been a dream? She was still here, and Kurt? Looking at her bloody hands, and feeling the pain radiating all over her body with angry burns and wounds made her anxiety spike. Was he dead?

She sat there in the corner of the room, when the door opened and a man dragged Kurt inside.

Jane couldn't suppress the pained whimper that escaped. Kurt didn't move.

Her torturer entered and Jane instinctively drew further away from the door.

"Thought you might want him with you on your last night alive. Which is more than what my wife had during her last moments; but unlike the government, I'm not a monster."

With that, the man left, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Jane reached a trembling hand toward Kurt. She held it to his cold, bearded cheek and then trailed her fingers down the stubble of his jaw, placing them against his pulse point, hoping to find a sign of life. But even as she did, part of her knew that it was in vain. He was gone.

She pulled Kurt's lifeless body into her lap, her whole body shaking with the force of her grief as she buried her face in his hair. Her words escaped like a quiet, broken litany from her lips as she rocked him in her arms. "Kurt…no…no…why…God, why? No...Kurt…".

She didn't care what they would do to her anymore. What she had, she'd lost. Jane felt like her world shrinking into a tiny point. She tried to breathe but the hitching gasps only made her lungs burn. Her vision narrowed, a fog replacing clarity.

Abruptly, she thought she heard a familiar voice break through the fog.

"Jane, wake up….shhh…you're having a nightmare. It's just a dream..It's okay…you're dreaming. I'm right here. Wake up."

She felt a warm squeeze of her hand, and then Kurt's voice cajoling for her to open her eyes. She forced them open, landing almost immediately on Kurt's worried form. Her breath hitched; her eyes wide as she forced out his name in a pained syllable.

"Shhh, you're okay. It was just a fever dream." His soothing voice tried.

She wanted to calm her breathing, but she couldn't. She wanted to trust her eyes and believe it was Kurt beside her bed, wiping her tears away. Still, her breathing was ragged and all she felt was dread, as she gave him a terrified look. The last time had felt real, too, and she didn't know what to believe.

She felt the bed move as he carefully climbed in with her. "Jane…Come here." Kurt's strong arms wrapped around her and he pulled her gently into his chest. Jane felt the warmth of his body envelop her, and smelled his cologne, the reassuring scent that was him, but still the memory of what she had seen tormented her. A raw, violent sob tore from her throat. "You..you were dead…He –."

"Shh. I've got you, my love. I've got you." Kurt pulled her ever tighter against him, and she curled into him.

Blood pounded in her ears and her chest tightened even more, her only air being the heaving sobs tearing from some deep corner of her soul. Breathing was hard, and she clutched onto Kurt, like he was the only thing keeping her from sinking into the abyss that was her mind.

He held her safe in his embrace, stroking her hair and shushing her lovingly as she cried, her tears absorbed by his shirt.

"He killed you, Kurt. I saw your body," she got out as the worst sobs had abated. Just saying those words was like a knife slicing her flesh.

He kissed her hair, releasing a shuddering breath of his own. "I know…." He ran his hand up and down her back, mindful of the burns and broken ribs. "But he didn't kill me."

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he went on. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere, for as long as you need me."

Time ticked away as Jane slowly calmed, the feeling of dread replaced by total exhaustion. She pressed her cheek into Kurt's chest, the familiar softness of his shirt giving her a measure of comfort as she breathed a hiccuping sigh. He traced his fingers down her jaw, and gently tilted her face up, wiping her tears away.

"Hey…"he murmured, as their eyes met. Jane saw the concern and pain in Kurt's look, as he traced her cheek with a light touch. "What can I do?"

She hated feeling so vulnerable, but right now it felt like her world was caving in and her only constant was Kurt. She could feel her chin wobbling, the nightmare still lurking around. "Hold me."

The pained, loving expression on his face nearly had her in tears, as he stroked hair and guided her head back to lay against his breast again.

"Okay."

She closed her eyes, sighing as she felt his cool hand on her forehead. She felt safe.

He adjusted his arms around her, pulling her secure against him. "You're still running a fever. Go back to sleep," he murmured. "I'll hold you."

Kurt awoke to light hitting his face. He opened his eyes to see it was the morning light reflecting from between the curtains that had woken him. Looking at the alarm clock, he saw that it was only a little after seven in the morning. No need to get up yet: he had taken a couple of weeks of unused vacation days to look after Jane when she had been discharged, so there was no rush to go anywhere.

His arm tingled, but he didn't care. Glancing down, he couldn't help a tender smile from appearing on his face. Nestled against his shoulder was Jane, sound asleep. She had her arm wrapped loosely over his chest, almost her entire body in contact with his. Her hair partially covered her face. Her breathing was deep and calm, and her face was relaxed in sleep.

Kurt gazed at Jane, drinking her in. For the first time, since she came home a week ago, she had slept peacefully through the entire night. Before tonight her sleep had been interrupted by vicious nightmares, whether at night or a nap during the day. He had soothed her and held her close as she cried. He was agonized that he had ultimately been the reason for her pain. She wouldn't ever have been in this position if she wasn't married to him. After a lot of coaxing he had gotten Jane to agree that they go see a therapist, together. She needed someone besides him to help her navigate the toll of the events of the couple of past months. And what he had seen Hayes do to Jane had scarred him too, and he had suffered nightmares of his own, even if they weren't nearly as bad as hers.

Yesterday had been the first meeting with the therapist, and as hard as it had been, it had obviously helped since Jane had slept through the night. The worry-lines on her forehead were gone and she was totally relaxed against him. The dark circles beneath her eyes were fading, as were the bruises around her body. He didn't dare move is arm, so as not to wake her. Instead, he shifted carefully to caress her back with his other hand. Running his hand up and down her back almost felt like an exorcism for him. Touching her skin and tracing her tattoos was a way to reassure himself that she was still here.

Kurt didn't notice how long had passed, when he heard Jane let out a contented sigh and move ever so slightly in his arms. He turned his eyes down to find her looking at him, with a lazy expression on her face. Meeting his eyes, she smiled. "Morning."

Kurt leaned down to give her a lingering kiss. "Morning," he whispered against her lips. Pulling back, he cupped her face. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a log," she smiled, and shimmied up slightly to lay her head in the crook of his neck.

"Good. You need the sleep," he murmured as he tangled his now freed hand in her hair.

Jane didn't say anything, only nodding silently. He felt her run her hand up and down his side slowly, as she lay in his embrace.

They lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's touch, before Kurt spoke up, nuzzling his face into her hair.

"What do you want to do today?"

"I don't know." She shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "If the weather is nice, we could go to the park."

"Yeah, we could."

She snuggled back into him. "But can we stay here for a while longer? It's still early."

"Yeah. No rush," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her, cocooning her in his embrace.