Alice Kruger ▶ Remi Briggs ▶ Jane ▶ Jane Weller (
endingpoint) wrote in
entrancelogs2017-12-01 03:07 pm
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Entry tags:
we laughed at the darkness (OTA)
Who: Jane Doe, you
Where: various
When: through the month of December
Rating: PG-PG-13 possibly
Summary: Jane hasn't left her room since she got back. Very short network post included.
Note: She may seem antisocial but she's not. New CR may take her mind off of things, and close CR might get to hear the whole story.
The Story:
[ On Monday morning, there is a short, to the point text post that goes out: ]
The tattoo parlor is closed until further notice. Sorry for the inconvenience.
[ Once that's done, Jane has to decide if she actually wants to leave the room. She hasn't since their rooms changed back after the last event, she's just moved from living room to bedroom, alternating. She can deal with everything that happened, the bounty on her head, leaving Kurt for two years to keep him and his daughter safe. What she hasn't been able to cope with well at all has been knowing that she had a daughter eighteen years ago. Jane was a teenager, but she can't remember it. She can't remember being pregnant or giving birth. Cant remember holding her daughter or memorizing her face.
All Jane knows is that she hadn't wanted to give up her child if the intel she has is to be trusted. Which means Shepherd forced Jane - then Remi - to give up her infant. But the real problem is, can she trust anything? Can she trust a man who was a master forger, someone who worked for her mother and was in her pocket? How can she know her brother isn't manipulating her, trying to make her feel something that isn't real?
How could she forget something as intimate as her child growing inside of her?
Kurt's trying to help, he's trying to soothe, but it can feel suffocating and like it's just too much at times. She knows he means well, but there are times she has to get out of the room. He can't help her, not with this, so she does begin to leave the room periodically. She goes to the bar that's quietest, not the one run by Lucifer, and not the one Sarah works at, and nurses bourbon for hours. Some days, Jane sits on the beach for long periods of time, even with the chill in the air wearing only a hoodie and pants, arms wrapped around her knees, holding herself. She doesn't feel like sparring or sketching, so wherever she goes, she's simply, quiet. The library helps with that too, to sit and be still, not even necessarily doing anything important. She can wander there and look at interesting things, let something else occupy her mind for a while.
There is one night, late, that she goes to the roof and sits, and cries. Nothing loud, nothing gut-wrenching. Just quiet tears of grief and anger, of not knowing what to believe. Of knowing once again, her life has been violated and it's either the truth or a sick mind game her brother is playing.
Eventually, though, she always goes home to Kurt, quietly slipping into bed whether it's a normal time for sleeping or not. ]
Where: various
When: through the month of December
Rating: PG-PG-13 possibly
Summary: Jane hasn't left her room since she got back. Very short network post included.
Note: She may seem antisocial but she's not. New CR may take her mind off of things, and close CR might get to hear the whole story.
The Story:
[ On Monday morning, there is a short, to the point text post that goes out: ]
The tattoo parlor is closed until further notice. Sorry for the inconvenience.
[ Once that's done, Jane has to decide if she actually wants to leave the room. She hasn't since their rooms changed back after the last event, she's just moved from living room to bedroom, alternating. She can deal with everything that happened, the bounty on her head, leaving Kurt for two years to keep him and his daughter safe. What she hasn't been able to cope with well at all has been knowing that she had a daughter eighteen years ago. Jane was a teenager, but she can't remember it. She can't remember being pregnant or giving birth. Cant remember holding her daughter or memorizing her face.
All Jane knows is that she hadn't wanted to give up her child if the intel she has is to be trusted. Which means Shepherd forced Jane - then Remi - to give up her infant. But the real problem is, can she trust anything? Can she trust a man who was a master forger, someone who worked for her mother and was in her pocket? How can she know her brother isn't manipulating her, trying to make her feel something that isn't real?
How could she forget something as intimate as her child growing inside of her?
Kurt's trying to help, he's trying to soothe, but it can feel suffocating and like it's just too much at times. She knows he means well, but there are times she has to get out of the room. He can't help her, not with this, so she does begin to leave the room periodically. She goes to the bar that's quietest, not the one run by Lucifer, and not the one Sarah works at, and nurses bourbon for hours. Some days, Jane sits on the beach for long periods of time, even with the chill in the air wearing only a hoodie and pants, arms wrapped around her knees, holding herself. She doesn't feel like sparring or sketching, so wherever she goes, she's simply, quiet. The library helps with that too, to sit and be still, not even necessarily doing anything important. She can wander there and look at interesting things, let something else occupy her mind for a while.
There is one night, late, that she goes to the roof and sits, and cries. Nothing loud, nothing gut-wrenching. Just quiet tears of grief and anger, of not knowing what to believe. Of knowing once again, her life has been violated and it's either the truth or a sick mind game her brother is playing.
Eventually, though, she always goes home to Kurt, quietly slipping into bed whether it's a normal time for sleeping or not. ]
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I have a daughter. I had a baby. Before my memory was erased.
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peggy sits a little straighter. an unanticipated child? a forgotten one? well, that's the sort of circumstance that transcends protocol and regimen. this isn't about assets or professionalism or work. not any longer.
no, this is about a person's gut-deep war between herself and the person she's trying to piece herself back together to be. it's rare that peggy breaks poise, but just now she leans forward and puts a light palm on jane's knee.
tentative, but turning firm if jane doesn't rebuff her. ]
And you can't recall. Oh, Jane. I'm terribly sorry -- it's not the sort of news that should be delivered by manila folder.
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Because I can't remember, I don't know if I can even believe it. How could I forget something like that? My own baby?
[ She knows there are no answers, at least no easy ones, but everything she's feeling is sitting on her chest, drowning her. ]
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and acknowledge it is all she wants to do. there'll be no solving it, perhaps ever. ]
Don't say how could I forget as though it was some willing action. [ stern, she nearly chides her for the vulnerability inherent in the wording. ] That memory was taken from you. Along with the others.
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I don't even know if I can believe my brother. He wants to destroy my life. This could be a sick mind game, and I don't know. I won't know until I go back but until then I have to...wonder if I let someone take her away from me and didn't even fight for her.
[ Apologies, Peg. There's so much going on in Jane's head, and trying to deal with it all hasn't been easy. It won't be, not for a while. ]
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[ and suddenly, the conversation grinds into a more personal gear. peggy's tone remains arch and distant, maybe, but the content is wickedly individual. she's been listening to the spaces between jane's words ever since they'd met. learning, in every conversation. ]
Whether she fought or didn't fight -- it seems to me that you are no longer her.
[ and if jane wants to argue the point? peggy waits for her to do so. she'll bear that divisiveness and confusion and anger, if she must. she can take it. ]
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[ She admits that quietly, voice tight. She's not Remi, she never will be again. The day her memories were erased, that life was gone forever. She never wants to be anyone other than Jane Weller again. ]
But I still...possibly have a daughter. And if she's out there...God, what if her life is as screwed up as mine? What if my brother got to her? I have to find her.
[ Or does she? What if it's the opposite and her life is fine? Could Jane ruin her by inserting herself into her life? ]
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[ nothing short of this unknown daughter being dragged to the mansion, too. and that's only if the girl even exists. the pragmatism in peggy and the doubt in jane both allow the fact that this child might have been a weapon, made up to hurt her. and look how it's succeeded! she can't see the tears in the other woman's eyes without feeling something tighten in her heart.
as another resident is fond of reminding peggy, there are only bad barters here. but maybe, just maybe, the time and space afforded to jane by being here might do her some good. better, she suspects, than acting rashly back home on half-baked intel. ]
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[ She can't protect her daughter at home, can't protect her in Wonderland. Of course, she has no idea that her daughter has met Kurt, has no idea that Kurt's keeping that a secret from her. She has no idea that her daughter is looking for her. ]
I didn't want to give her up.
[ And now, her eyes reluctantly meet Peggy's again. She knows there's too much proof that it's true but acceptance is a hell of a place to get to. ]
The man who did the adoption said that he regretted it. That my mother paid him to do it. I wanted her, Peggy.
[ Her voice cracks and breaks, but Jane's trying to hold it together. No one should have to suffer through an actual break down on Jane's part. ]
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so! she reaches for jane's hand. her fingers twine tight and rallying with the other woman's, grip biting so hard it might almost hurt. she could ask whether jane knows these things only from the paperwork left behind. she could fall back on her instinct to investigate details, but her gut suggests that isn't what jane needs right now. ]
My dear. I am so terribly sorry.
[ there's nothing that will cure what ails her. and peggy, pragmatic peggy, she can't even drum up a proper hug. her ears burn when she remembers what leo fitz said to her: my mum always said we shouldn't be shy with offering comfort to people who need it.
even so, she hesitates. ]
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Thank you. For listening, I mean. I hate...[ looking weak, feeling vulnerable and raw. ] ...dumping my problems on people like this. But my husband keeps trying to fix it when he can't. I needed someone to just hear it without jumping into some kind of action.
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and, by god, she won't let jane feel that way with her. ]
I'm not convinced that anyone would say listening was my strongest suit. But. Please, never hesitate. [ once, a good man assured her that people in her line of work -- in jane's, too -- require support. even, she supposes, if that support comes from other stubborn bastards. ]
Besides. I think we can forgive your husband his desire to fix it all. As I am vaguely aware, there are vows involved to that effect. [ a tight squeeze on jane's hand. ]
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She's good at that, it seems. Running since she was Remi, away from anything hard, away from challenges that seem impossible to overcome. Still, she nods slightly at Peggy's words. ]
He's trying. So hard. I haven't made it easy.
[ That's hard to admit, too. Christ, she's opened up more to Peggy than her own husband. ]
I think I feel like I can protect him from hurting because I am.
[ A heavy sigh escapes her then, rubbing her forehead. ]
I'm just...tired. [ Emotionally, mentally. She's completely spent. God help her if an event happens soon that tries to screw with their minds. She'll be a sitting duck of raw emotion. ]
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not since steve, really, and that's unraveled so poorly ever since she'd arrived in wonderland. ]
I imagine you are. [ tired. so very. not only with the there-and-back-again of going home and returning, but with every other piece of baggage that's come with it. gently, she starts: ] And although I don't know the man one whit, I suspect he must be worried about you.
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We'd only been married for...six months, had just finished remodeling our house. His daughter was asleep in her room and our electricity went out. Before we really knew what was happening there was a red dot on my forehead, he pushed me down and... all hell broke loose. We found out, right then, there was a bounty on my head. Brought in dead, payment upon delivery of my body.
[ She lets out a shaky breath. ]
They would have killed anyone in that house to get to me, and Kurt wanted me to stay, he begged me to, but I couldn't...I couldn't. So I left. In the middle of the night.
[ A poor decision, probably, but one born out of sheer fear. ]
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or so she thought.
peggy shakes her head. ]
I believe with all my heart that I would have made that same decision. [ to leave, sod what anyone else says to try and convince her otherwise. ] At least until you could sort things out. Jane -- did you sort it out?
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No. But I came back anyway because my brother kidnapped three friends. So. Now I'm home, and every day is a new problem threatening to ruin my life, courtesy of the person I couldn't take down two years ago.
[ Because he's her brother, because she wanted to believe she could bring him back from the dark. ]
We were kidnapped together. When we were kids. Our parents were murdered while we slept. The only person my brother had was me.
[ Just a little backstory into why her own brother would be so angry. ]
And now I've abandoned him. I thought I could save him. I wanted to.
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the mark left by jane's brother, it seems, is a far more insidious kind. ]
We can't save everyone. [ no matter what the heroes like to say. ] Kin or otherwise. Harsh as it may sound, dear Jane, some fires need to burn themselves out.
[ not the nicest of comforts, peggy knows. but in her mind she's speaking the truth. ]
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[ Said sadly. Because she does know. She realized it when Roman somehow inserted himself into her wedding video and threatened her on what should have been the happiest day of her life. ]
But that doesn't mean I'll ever stop wishing I could.
[ Peggy's words aren't sugar-coated and that's fine by Jane. This is closer to what she needs, what Kurt can't do. He won't risk saying anything that would upset her, make her hurt more even if it's the truth. ]
I know I won't hesitate next time I see him. He's hurting too many people to keep going free. And now, if he knows about the baby I had, she may be in danger and not even understand why.
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and that's what she hopes to remind jane off with her next cautious offer. ]
-- Should he ever turn up here, do consider giving us a shout. [ peggy thinks for a moment about barnes. about the revelation of what hydra had done to him. of the danger he posed. ] No matter how certain you are now that you won't hesitate then.
[ peggy is prepared to throw her hat into that ring. ]
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[ Yeah, Jane isn't holding back. If Roman shows up, he has to be detained or stopped. He's a sociopath who likes hurting people any way he can. ]
I don't know what we can do about it in a place with no law where he hasn't done anything wrong yet. All I can warn everyone about is what he'd done to me.
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regulations, or a lack of them, won't stop her from laying roman krueger flat. or trying to. ]
If his path crosses mine then I'm convinced something can be done. [ but that's peggy. always harbouring faith in the power of a good right hook. ]
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[ She lets out a breath and runs a hand through her hair. ]
Hopefully, he can't figure out a way to hide his scar.
[ After saying that, Jane looks at Peggy and this time there's something resembling...well, maybe resembling hope on her face. ]
Thank you. For letting me talk, for being trustworthy, for...everything.
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Of course. [ anytime. it goes well-meant but unspoken. ] But I'd feel better if you told me who these people are, the ones who might recognize him -- not that I'll go interfering but...
More information always helps.
[ and all it takes it watching someone be pleased over a reunion. ]
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[ She doesn't know Daisy's last name. ]
In their world, he was a part of their team, but he died. If Roman took advantage of that...he exploits pain. It's what he does best.
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