Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Nedina, Brian, Sadie, Kevin, Jack, Evelyn, Georgia, Doctor Collins, Phillip Johnson, Chief Victor Monroe, Vega and anyone else you don't recognize.
Bring Me Home
Chapter 1
Jordan tenderly brushed the dark hair from the unconscious Detective's face, almost wishing he was awake so she could look again into those beautiful blue eyes. Almost.
"Hey Woody," she murmured softly, eyes filling with tears as she sat in a chair by his bed and gently picked up his hand, being careful not to disturb the many tubes and machines surrounding his body. Heaving a deep breath, she murmured, "I guess you get your wish, love-I'm getting out of your life, although not by choice.
"See, long before you came to Boston, there was a special case," she explained, toying gently with his lean, tanned fingers, "This guy was unburying women's coffins, discarding their bodies and then burying different women in said coffins. Alive. I was actually working with the FBI on that case, and it was pretty high profile, ya know? Lots of press and coverage since it had happened to so many girls.
"Well, he figured out I was the ME on the case after getting my badge-I'd dropped in a…scuffle of sorts- and tried to make me the next victim. I-He-He buried me a-alive." A few tears fell, but she continued undeterred, "We never caught him, but…they think he's back-or it could be a copycat, but I doubt it.
"Th-The woman that they found matches Digger's-that's what we called him- MO. The-the only difference was that there was a note in the coffin with her." She stopped a moment, her breath having caught on a sob, "H-He wr-wrote th-that h-he's c-coming after m-me."
Jordan stopped speaking, her eyes closing as she attempted to regain control. Moments later, she reopened them, having accomplished it.
"I love you, Woody. I really do." She whispered, "And I want to be here, to help you through all the physical therapy you're going to have to do, but I can't. I'm being put into a safe-house with a couple of FBI agents until they find Digger."
There was a knock at the door and Garret stuck his head through, saying softly, "Jordan, it's time for you to go."
Jordan nodded, tears again in her eyes as she stood. Leaning over the bed, she whispered softly into Woody's ear, "I love you, Woodrow Wilson Hoyt-always."
Jordan straightened, giving one last look to the man she loved. Silently, she let her eyes travel over and memorize his features.
Garrett stepped further into the room, placing a gentle arm around Jordan's waist. Jordan leaned gratefully against Garrett's warm strength, ignoring the tears spilling down her face as he led her out of the room-and out of Woody's life.
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Garrett and Nigel sat silently in the surgical waiting room, awaiting the okay to go into Woody's room. Jordan had been gone for over four hours and the Morgue employees had taken turns coming into the hospital to wait with Garrett for Woody to awaken.
Half an hour ago, Woody had finally woken up. The doctor needed to look him over, but until then they had to wait to visit.
A tall, slim, willowy doctor stepped out into the waiting room, clipboard in hand, "Drs. Macy and Townsend?"
Nigel and Garrett were immediately on their feet, Garrett asking, "How is he?"
"Well," the doctor said, "the second surgery went well. It will take a few days for the swelling to go down and until then we won't know how much mobility in his legs he'll regain."
"But?" Garrett asked expectantly, both men hearing the silent but in the woman's voice.
The doctor sighed before levelly meeting the former-CME's eyes, "For some reason, since Detective Hoyt woke up, he can't remember anything."
"What?" Nigel asked incredulously, "How did that happen? He didn't even have a head injury!"
"I know," the doctor nodded, "which is why it's so unusual. However, sometimes the shock of such accidents can cause victims to subconsciously block out the part of their brain that holds all of their memories."
"But Woody was fine earlier!" Garrett pointed out.
The doctor frowned in puzzlement and thought, "Did anything happen between the two surgeries that could have caused a lot of stress? Maybe something extremely emotional?"
The two men shared a significant look and then Garrett explained, "Woody and Jordan-the woman from earlier who got special clearance for his room- met about four years ago and have been dancing around a relationship from day 1. Jordan…has issues, so she refused to get involved. Just before the first surgery, she finally told him he loved her but afterwards he told her he didn't believe her and for her to get out of his life."
The doctor sighed sympathetically, asking, "Is she coming back?"
Garret shook his head slightly, "Not anytime soon. She's gone away for…family problems."
The doctor sighed again and shrugged her shoulders, "There's nothing we can do, really. His memory should come back in time, but you'll have to answer questions-sometimes repeatedly-until then."
The two nodded and the doctor said, "Alright, you can go in now."
The two men thanked the doctor and then, with a deep, solidifying breath, walked into the room of their confused friend.
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Jordan sighed, tapping her fingers absentmindedly against her jean-clad thigh. She was sitting in a black pick-up truck between two FBI agents. Attached to the back of the truck was a large U-Haul filled with brand new furniture.
The FBI had flown Jordan, and about half a dozen agents, out of Boston to Minnesota in a private plane. From there, they had all boarded a public plane to Toronto, Ontario, Canada. The truck and U-Haul had been there waiting for them.
Jordan and the two agents who'd been assigned to stay with her (one of which was Special Agent Drew Haley) were going undercover. The three (the other agent a young Spanish woman with jet-black hair and blue eyes named Nedina Floras) were posing as best friends who'd grown up together and moved in together afterwards.
Jordan's name had been changed to Jodie Emily Martin, Drew's to Daniel Harrison and Nedina's to Helena Rodriguez. Neither Drew nor Nedina had had to alter their appearances since Digger wasn't obsessed with them, but Jordan had.
Her hair had been cut to just above her shoulders-about an inch above- and dyed a lighter brown streaked through with golden yellow. She'd also been forced into wearing green-coloured contacts. However, she'd refused to drop having a job and was now a "special consultant ME" for the Cambridge City Morgue(A/N I don't know if that's what the morgue is called there, but for the purpose of this story it is!)
Almost two hours after the second plane landed, the 2 agents and 1 ME pulled up to their new home. It was a small, two-story, old Victorian-style house. There were3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, an eat-in kitchen, living room, dining room and a finished basement.
After 4 hours of unpacking, rearranging furniture and setting up discreet surveillance and other such security measures, the trio was exhausted. Nedina switched on the T.V, collapsing on the black leather couch while Drew padded about in the kitchen. Jordan was sitting on the seat of the bay window in the living room.
On long leg was dangling off the edge, the other was curled up to her chest, one arm wrapped loosely around said knee. The other arm was toying with the edges of a pillow that rested on her dangling leg. Her forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the window and "green" eyes stared blankly out into the night.
Behind her, she heard Drew enter the room and talk to Nedina. She didn't really hear what they were saying, her thoughts thousands of miles away on the Homicide Detective in Boston General.
"Hey Jordan-er, Jodie," Drew said, tapping her shoulder lightly to extricate her from her thoughts, "You probably shouldn't sit by the window.
Jordan gave the agent a wan smile, pulling herself elegantly but silently from the seat. Drew reached behind her, pulling shut the heavy green drapes as Jordan moved to the overly stuffed matching leather armchair, staring blankly at the flashing T.V screen.
Drew sighed, settling down beside Nedina, but throwing Jordan a look from the corner of his eyes. It had been almost 4 years since Drew had last seen the once spunky ME and he couldn't believe the difference.
Jordan was pale, the circles under her eyes dark. Her eyes, despite the contacts, were dull and blank with a touch of deep sadness.
The three remained in the living room, silently watching-or atleast pretending to watch, in Jordan's case- the TV. At around 10 PM, Jordan stood.
"I'm going to head to bed," she smiled, 'though it didn't reach her eyes, "I do have work in the morning!"
After a round of goodnights from the others, Jordan padded up the stairs to her new room. She changed into a pair of silk pants and a black tank top before slipping under the covers of her new blue sheets, only to stare silently at the ceiling.
Slowly, the tears began to leak from her now-contact-free eyes as the gentle, loving face of Woody Hoyt swam in her mind. Curling into a ball, she hugged a pillow to her chest, burying her face into the top of it.
She wanted her Farm Boy.
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"So my name is Woodrow?" Woody asked, wrinkling his nose at the unusual name.
Garrett laughed at the younger man's expression, "Yes, Woodrow Wilson Hoyt."
Woody grimaced comically before asking, "What do I do? Like, what's my profession?"
"You're a cop, dear Woodrow," Nigel answered, "a Homicide Detective."
Woody nodded with a thoughtful expression, "Yea, that seems kind of right…how do I know you two?"
"I'm Garrett Macy, I sued to be the Chief Medical Examiner for the morgue," Garrett answered, a flash of pain shooting through his eyes at the thought of his former profession-and his former life.
"And I'm Nigel Townsend, a Medical Examiner at the Morgue and the computer whiz," Nigel added with a jokingly pompous grin.
Woody grinned back, but then fell silent for a few moments, seemingly gathering his thoughts. The former CME and ME remained silent, allowing Woody to do so easily.
"What-What about my family?" he asked finally, nervously, "I-I mean, do I-do I have any?"
Garrett took a deep breath before explaining softly, "Your mother passed away from cancer when you were really young and your father was shot during duty when you were in high school. You have a younger brother, Cal, but we haven't been able to track him down yet."
"But we're working on," Nigel assured him.
Woody nodded his acceptance before asking, "Where did I grow up? Boston?"
"Nope. You grew up in Kewaunee, Wisconsin."
Woody spent the next couple of hours asking questions about his past and re-meeting people from the Morgue and the PD. He kept up a brave, smiling face, but inside he was becoming increasingly frustrated with himself-he'd had to bask his own name a half dozen times!
Finally, visiting hours were over. He said goodbye to Garrett-who'd been with him all day- as well as another cop, Eddie Winslow, and then the nurse shut out the light for him.
Tucked under the covers, he closed his eyes, mentally and physically exhausted. Sleep, however, eluded him.
Woody sighed, reopening his eyes to stare silently up at the dark ceiling. His mind retraced the day's steps, going over his story again-orphaned at a young age with his younger brother Cal to be raised by an aunt and uncle, working really hard to become a police officer, transferring over to Boston, getting shot and almost killed.
Woody sighed again, thinking over what the doctor had said about his bullet wound. Because the bullet had come so close to his spine, the doctor's said there would be a chance he might never walk again. Scary thought.
However, atleast he was alive, unlike the other cops. Woody felt grateful that he had lived and that that sniper had been taken down.
But through the entire day, Woody had felt like there was something missing. He hadn't told the others, because it could very well just be a side effect of the amnesia…but he felt like there was someone who wasn't there that should have been.
With a soft sigh, his eyes finally closed as he drifted into sleep. However, it wasn't a peaceful one.
All night long, Woody was haunted by the image of a tall, beautiful brunette with pleading, whiskey coloured eyes begging him, "Please Woody, don't leave me! I need you! I love you, Woody!" A/N Well? What do ya think? Feed back is much appreciated! Red
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