A/N: I'm still working on Scarlet Pasts, but every since this episode, I've been trying to figure out what to write for it. Well, this evening, it finally hit me, and I wanted to get it written before I lost it. I realized after writing this that people in fugue states don't remember what happened during it, but decided that since Jane was never normal, and that episode desperately needed a continuation, hopefully you wonderful readers would grant me some creative leeway.
Disclaimer: That episode was cut off far too quickly. If I owned it, it wouldn't have been.
"Don't be. I'm sorry." He is shaking, but he has to say it. She hadn't deserved anything he'd pulled in the past few days. He hadn't deserved someone like her to stay by his side, not after everything he'd done. But here she is.
And he can't even hate her, not when he understands so well why she'd done it. To protect him. To save him from himself. He doesn't even want to hate her, not really.
She is the worse off of the two after his actions recently, he decides.
And he certainly isn't going to trouble her any more.
He will wait until she is gone to fall apart.
"Sorry? What for?"
She has no idea. Really, truly, no idea. He finds this slightly ironic. He knows that it's common for people who've been in a fugue state to forget what happened during that time, and the people around them would have to deal with what happened by themselves.
But then, they were never normal, so it was almost natural that he be filled with such guilt, and that she would have no idea what he felt guilty over.
"These past few days, I…I've been…" Just leave, he wants to scream. Please. I don't want to break down in front of you. I don't want you to be scared of me.
She shakes her head. "Don't worry about it. You weren't yourself."
"No excuse," he mutters.
She reaches out for him, placing her hand on his arm. He doesn't-can't-pull away.
"Jane, don't worry about it," she repeats. "Please," she adds.
He stares at the floor.
"Jane, I'm right here."
She knows. How does she know? Her arms are wrapped around him-when did that happen?-and she's holding on tightly.
He shakes. I don't deserve this, he wants to scream. I don't deserve you here, holding on to me, supporting me…Anything but punching me.
But she's not letting go, and the tears won't stay put forever.
He doesn't notice they're falling until it's too late to stop them.
She doesn't say the clichéd It's ok, (Because it isn't, and he knows she knows it. The memories are coming fast-Both happy and sad-and he's too overwhelmed to be ok.)
She just lowers them both to the floor, and rubs circles on his back almost silently. Almost.
The occasional "I'm here," is still muttered, and he appreciates each one.
He wants to pull himself together, to fight the tears, because he doesn't cry in front of anyone. But she isn't going to let him. She isn't going to let him be alone, not for this. Not after everything they've been through.
She's just holding on to him.
Finally, the tears subside, and he wants to get up. He wants to laugh, pretend like this never happened. Or maybe it's not too late to pretend not to remember, he muses.
But maybe that's not what she wants.
The idea throws him off balance-That she cares enough to just be there. To maybe just listen and let him talk.
Or just to hold him, even if he's not crying….
He stays put. Because for the first time in a long time, he's safe.
A/N; Thank you for reading. Reviews are adored…God Bless