Hello all my lovely readers,

Here I am with another freaking story! I must finish them all but new ideas just keep coming to me! So hopefully you guys enjoy this one!


Fallen 3


It had been almost six weeks since she escaped from that CIA, and she thought things had finally settled into their new normal. The team hated her, she doubted that would change, but she had a mission. She had a purpose and protection for the time being.

Even if that protection didn't last, she had the time to plan her escape. It didn't matter how things played out she would never go back there. Back to him. Never.

She'd die first.

Something she'd already calculated into the plan she'd been creating since day one.

But for now her biggest concern would be Sandstorm and taking them down with minimal losses. She wouldn't let the team get hurt by her actions again. Even if they did hate her, she would protect them. But Roman, Roman, had become an unexpected addition to her plans. She found she needed him on a level she couldn't explain or justify.

So, now she had to find a way to protect them all. She hoped she could convince Roman to stay with her after it all ended. She didn't know if she could lose him again after finding him.

All those thoughts were swirling around in her head as she walked down the corridor past Patterson's lab. They had just completed another case, and she'd been heading to her desk to start her paperwork when she overheard Patterson and Zapata talking.

"Ugh, Tasha, I'm having the worst cramps right now," Patterson groaned, "I just want to go home and lay on my bed with a heating pad and the newest season of Dr. Who."

Tasha laughed, "As cute as that sounds, we are going out tonight, so take some Midol and get it together."

Patterson must have responded but Jane had stopped paying attention when she realized exactly what they were talking about.

The realization struck her like lightning.

She hadn't had her period since she escaped from the CIA.

For as long as she could remember it came like clockwork. Even in the CIA it had come. They'd made her lay in her filthy stained clothing for days after the bleeding stopped. Just another way to degrade her. To make her feel less than human.

How long had it been since she'd escaped? Too long, her traitorous mind whispered to her, even as the rest of her rebelled against the very thought.

But her mind drew her back into the memories she'd buried further than any of the others. She felt his hands on her, touching her, hurting her in a way she didn't think possible. She could almost hear him whispering in her ear, and the choked sound he made when it was done.

The thick seedy smell of his colon threatened to choke her, and she felt her own hands coming up to her throat as if feeling for his. He liked to wrap them around her throat so tight she felt she might suffocate.

Sometimes she wished she had.

Bile rushed up her throat, and she turned, dashing to the bathroom making it into a stall in just enough time to empty her stomach into the toilet.

She didn't know how long she heaved, but by the time she stopped it had long since turned into dry painful movements. Nothing but saliva and the barest hint of stomach acid. She slumped against the stall wall, trying to breath as her mind did its best to process this new possibility.

She didn't want to think about it. She wanted to banish the very possibility to the furthest corner of her mind and pretend it away. But she'd never been afforded the luxury of ignorant bliss. She knew she had to know. So she steeled herself, taking a deep breath to center herself, and got ready to force herself to her feet when the bathroom door banged open.

"Do we really have to go out tonight?" Patterson's voice echoed across the bathroom, the whine in her tone almost grating to Jane as her head started to pound in response to the vomiting.

"Yes, Patterson, no backing out now," Zapata snarked, "Plus, we already told the others about it, and given how long it's been since we all got together I don't want to cancel. Who knows when we'll get another chance to do this."

"I guess you're right," Patterson replied, as the stall door besides her opened and she entered, "It has been a while since we've all gotten together."

"Are you sure we shouldn't invite Jane, though?" Patterson asked hesitantly, "I mean, she's really been trying and she is one of us."

Zapata practically spat her response, "Is she? Last I checked the only reason she's even here is because we need her to take down Sandstorm. None of us even want to look at her after what she's done. She'd only ruin the whole night for us."

Jane shouldn't be hurt by the statement. After all, she couldn't stand to look at herself either, why would they? But still, it hurt to have it put into words. It just further proved she had no one but herself. None of them would help her. She had to help herself. Just like she always had.

The toilet beside her flushed, and the stall door opened, the sink sounded, and they started to leave before Patterson replied, "I guess you're right, I just feel bad for her, any of us could have found ourselves in her shoes. She just looks so down."

"Whatever you say Patterson, you can talk to her on your own time," Zapata replied as the door closed and Jane was left alone again.

She waited almost ten full minutes before she exited the bathroom herself. She didn't need either of the two women to see her exiting the bathroom and think she had been spying on them.

Because that would be exactly where their minds would go. At least Zapata's and she just didn't need that right now.

She spent the rest of the day in a fog, her mind still flipping over every possibility. The inevitable what if's plaguing her until she felt sick. When Kurt finally announced they could leave for the day she nearly shot out of her seat. But she forced herself to calmly collect her things and head to the stairs. No reason to draw attention to herself.

She wouldn't give any of them a reason to question her actions further.

When she exited the building, she walked a full six blocks away from the FBI headquarters, her detail following at a respectable distance, before she ducked into a convenient store. She carefully obscured the pregnancy tests beneath three bags of chips.

She didn't need her detail reporting back that she'd bought them.

As soon as she checked out she walked into the bathroom, her pulse accelerating with each step she took.

The next six minutes were pure torture as she took three tests in a row. It wasn't until she stared down at the third pink plus sign that she accepted the truth.

She blinked back tears, and forced herself to breathe. This changed everything and nothing. She couldn't abandon her mission but her parameters had changed. She had to end this, and end it sooner than she'd ever planned. Then she had to get away. She needed to go so far that none of them would be able to find her.

Without it being a conscious thought she knew that she would keep her baby. She wouldn't kill another innocent, and she would protect it until her dying breath.

She thought briefly about telling the team. But she knew she couldn't. She knew exactly what Naz would demand she do, and she doubted the others would care enough to stop her. She wouldn't abort her baby. But if she told them she might not have a choice.

No, she would have to do this alone.

She forced herself to take another breath before walking out of the bathroom with her head held high. By the time she got back to her apartment she had the beginnings of a new plan. The old one scrapped, no longer acceptable with this new variant.

First, she needed to research, because she knew nothing absolutely nothing about pregnancy. But she had to find a way to do it without the others being able to track her searches.

Then she had to accelerate her timeline with Sandstorm, she'd have to do whatever it took to prove her loyalty and gain access to their plans.

She would make herself unstoppable.

Her hand brushed against her abdomen, and she gave a silent promise to the life growing inside her. None of the horrors that had existed in her life would touch her child. They would have the life that Jane should have had.

Jane would make sure of that.