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fandomweekly2016-10-01 02:37 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2016-10-01 02:37 pm
Entry tags:
[#026] The Moment My Life Was Set (Blindspot)
Theme Prompt: #026 - Amnesia
Title: The Moment My Life Was Set
Fandom: Blindspot
Rating/Warnings: PG // Spoilers for S2
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 545
Summary: Once upon a time, the FBI office almost used to feel like home.
Once upon a time, the FBI office almost used to feel like home.
Once upon a time, Jane wasn’t Jane she was another person, with another kind of home entirely. Apparently she was a child of violence, a weapon of war. She was built to fight and never given a choice until Shepard swept in and took her hand and told her that there was a way she could do good. She wants to believe, that after everything she’s seen through the FBI that she bought into Sandstorm because she believed that they were going to do good, but at the end of the day, there’s too many questions and not enough answers.
Can a group that goes to such drastic extremes really be an instrument of good?
Is the FBI so corrupt that they needed to take these drastic steps in the first place?
Is the only reason she’s able to think critically about this because they wiped away her memories in the first place?
These are questions she’s been asking since she found out she did this to herself in the first place. Questions that she had pushed to the back of her mind when she believed that she was Taylor Shaw and that she had a place with the FBI, with Kurt, with a world that was far away from the violence she seemed to know instinctively. But now she knows that the violence was with her all along, that it has always been a part of every decision she’s ever made, and that makes it so much harder to determine if she’s doing the right thing or not. Not that it really matters. She doesn’t have a place with the FBI anymore. Instead she’s caught between two worlds, one that doesn’t want her and one that wants the girl she isn’t sure she is anymore.
“Jane, could you go find Agent Weller?”
She could think of things she’d much rather do than go find Kurt. She could chop off her own hand. She could go sit in Borden’s office and let him try and pry her emotions out of her. She could play Russian roulette with eating a week old pizza.
She could play actual Russian roulette.
Still, she gets to her feet and makes her way down the hallway, hands tucked into the pockets of her leather jacket and she makes her way to the door of his office. When he looks up at her she finds herself desperately missing the way he used to look at her, like she was the answer to a prayer he’d been saying for twenty years. Now all there is a vacant kind of nothingness, which she supposes is better the hatred and distrust she deserves for unknowingly playing with his emotions, but at the same time it’s still less than what she aches for.
“What is it?”
Cold, distant and to the point, she swallows down the disappointment before continuing.
“Nas wants to see you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Jane nods and turns to trudge away again, trying not to show her disappointment. She knows she dug herself her own grave, but at the same time, she can’t help but wonder how much longer she’s going to be a girl without a home.
Title: The Moment My Life Was Set
Fandom: Blindspot
Rating/Warnings: PG // Spoilers for S2
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 545
Summary: Once upon a time, the FBI office almost used to feel like home.
Once upon a time, the FBI office almost used to feel like home.
Once upon a time, Jane wasn’t Jane she was another person, with another kind of home entirely. Apparently she was a child of violence, a weapon of war. She was built to fight and never given a choice until Shepard swept in and took her hand and told her that there was a way she could do good. She wants to believe, that after everything she’s seen through the FBI that she bought into Sandstorm because she believed that they were going to do good, but at the end of the day, there’s too many questions and not enough answers.
Can a group that goes to such drastic extremes really be an instrument of good?
Is the FBI so corrupt that they needed to take these drastic steps in the first place?
Is the only reason she’s able to think critically about this because they wiped away her memories in the first place?
These are questions she’s been asking since she found out she did this to herself in the first place. Questions that she had pushed to the back of her mind when she believed that she was Taylor Shaw and that she had a place with the FBI, with Kurt, with a world that was far away from the violence she seemed to know instinctively. But now she knows that the violence was with her all along, that it has always been a part of every decision she’s ever made, and that makes it so much harder to determine if she’s doing the right thing or not. Not that it really matters. She doesn’t have a place with the FBI anymore. Instead she’s caught between two worlds, one that doesn’t want her and one that wants the girl she isn’t sure she is anymore.
“Jane, could you go find Agent Weller?”
She could think of things she’d much rather do than go find Kurt. She could chop off her own hand. She could go sit in Borden’s office and let him try and pry her emotions out of her. She could play Russian roulette with eating a week old pizza.
She could play actual Russian roulette.
Still, she gets to her feet and makes her way down the hallway, hands tucked into the pockets of her leather jacket and she makes her way to the door of his office. When he looks up at her she finds herself desperately missing the way he used to look at her, like she was the answer to a prayer he’d been saying for twenty years. Now all there is a vacant kind of nothingness, which she supposes is better the hatred and distrust she deserves for unknowingly playing with his emotions, but at the same time it’s still less than what she aches for.
“What is it?”
Cold, distant and to the point, she swallows down the disappointment before continuing.
“Nas wants to see you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Jane nods and turns to trudge away again, trying not to show her disappointment. She knows she dug herself her own grave, but at the same time, she can’t help but wonder how much longer she’s going to be a girl without a home.
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