This story takes place right after the season finale.
I disclaim Crossing Jordan and its characters, expositions, and plots. (However, this plot is mine.)
Reviews are not mandatory (I will not stop writing because the lack of reviews, but they are nice to get, so I know that someone is actually reading. I write for myself and no one else or I'd be getting paid.)
Chapter One
She had left. He had told her to. She always knew that love hurt, the reason she never let anyone get close, but she thought that Woody would, for sure, accept her declaration of love.
She was sitting on her favorite armchair with Emma by Jane Austen in her hand, but she couldn't read a word of it. Every time she would read a sentence, it would go completely over her head. She had spent the last hour reading the same page. She could have read on since it was her favorite book, but she wanted to read it to get her mind off Woody. Emma always helped her take her mind off life and focus it on Emma's life, but this time…
Woody was something else. She thought he understood her. She thought he understood that she needed time to heal from all the hurt that former lovers left her with. Her mother, her father, her first boyfriend, all left her with a gaping hole in her heart, and she needed time to trust herself, not Woody. In her heart, she knew Woody wouldn't leave her, but she didn't trust that she would leave him.
Yes, she ran. It was her signature thing to do, but she didn't run just because she was afraid of getting hurt. She ran because she was afraid of hurting. She would never wish the pain of heartbreak on anyone, not even the guy who shot Woody. Well, that could be debated…
The beeping from her cell phone brought her from her thoughts. She walked over to the side table by her front door and answered it.
"Hello," she greeted in the most cheerful voice she could muster.
"Hi, is this Jordan Cavanaugh?" a sweet sounding voice said on the other side.
"Yes."
"This is Doctor Kildore form Boston University Hospital. I would like for you to come in to discuss a few things with me concerning Mr. Hoyt."
"Is he okay?" Jordan asked nervously.
"Yes, his surgery went well, and he is expected to be walking again within two months with physical therapy and completely on his own within six months. I'm sorry to alarm you."
"I'll be right there." Jordan thought her voice sounded like it was going to crack. Why would the hospital ever call her?
She grabbed her wallet and her keys as she snapped her phone shut and left her apartment. She hurried down the steps and into her car.
As she put her car in reverse, she debated going at all, but she gave her word. She told the doctor that she would be there, so she would go. She had also promised Woody when he was in the hospital that she would always be there, form then on. If there was one good quality about her, it was that she always kept her promises.
She pulled into the parking garage of the hospital and took a deep breath before she exited her car.
While walking towards Woody's floor, she couldn't help but think what she would do if he never made it. What would she do if the bullet killed Woody? What would she do if he didn't make it through either one of the surgeries he went through?
But, he already made it, past the shooting and past both surgeries, but what would she do if he left? What would she do if he was the one that ran this time?
Run. If he had died, she would have run far away from Boston. If he avoided her when he could walk again, she would run, so she wouldn't have to face the pain. If he continued to be her partner but didn't want a relationship, she would run. If he ran away from her, she would run, run after him.
She knocked on Doctor Kildore's door, and it immediately opened.
"Jordan, thank you so much for coming. Please come in and have a seat." The doctor's voice was sweet and kind and gentle and comforting, but Jordan knew that if the compassion was real, the other emotions were either fake or a reflex from being used so often. That was why she went from being an ER doctor to being a surgical doctor to being a medical examiner.
She entered the office and took a seat in front of a wide desk, and she prepared herself for what the doctor was going to say.
"I'll just get right to the point," Dr. Kildore maneuvered to her chair and continued, "With a patient who needs physical therapy and can't move around on their own and don't live with someone, we keep them at the PT wing of the hospital which means that we need someone to keep up the maintenance for Woody's things like paying his bills, so he'll have a place to stay when he gets better."
Jordan nodded but couldn't keep herself from asking why. This shocked the doctor as she informed Jordan that Jordan was listed as Woody's first contact on his emergency card at work.
Jordan felt dumb but continued to exit the doctor's office and proceeded to go to Woody's apartment.
She found his spare key that she had as she stood before his door. She was almost nervous to go in except she knew that he wasn't there, and she has been there before, so it wasn't like she was going to find a shrine to her or something.
She slowly opened his door, and his apartment looked like it had every other time she had entered it.
It looked the same except for a few pieces of mail lying at her feet. She picked them up and walked over to the kitchen table where she laid them down. She opened the fridge and stared blankly at the beer and the water, obviously nothing that could rot in six months.
She took a beer out and cranked it open. She took a sip and swallowed the sour liquid. She took a few more steps into the bedroom.
His bed wasn't made, and clothes were overflowing from the hamper.
She wanted to help him, and if he wouldn't let her help him in person, she had to find another, better way.
She had an idea. It probably wasn't better, but it was another way of helping.