Title: The long way home

Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan

It was like any other morning, just a morning with its hazy light and blue sky that seemed refreshed and ready for the new day. September had rolled in with its crisp afternoons and lazy nights that seemed to trip over the afternoon to arrive. This is where he had found himself, pulling up to the touch-me-not cottage in suburb Boston, a house that stood in a line, both of the homes to the left and right looked identical. Woody looked at it and had to laugh, this was the type of thing he was running from when he came to Boston. The two-story home with the white picket fence, He thought it so boring that he was drooling just thinking about it.

Jordan stood out front tapping her foot impatiently; she was never one for patience. He rolled his eyes at her dramatically and smiled as he passed. "It took you long enough." She shot, glaring at him.

"Sorry Jo, I slept in." he smirked innocently.

"Yeah…right, you and bachelorette number three?" she snapped smugly. He only smiled and moved on mysteriously.

"What have we got?" he asked out of habit. She hated that, how he got under her skin like no one else. It had been years, something had past between them, long ago, like they had fallen behind and decided just to give up on the whole issue of 'them' but it had seemed like and undercurrent, it was there, they just couldn't see it.

"Girl, found, fell out of a tree…" She said as he slipped threw the door. An eerie sense that he had been there before crept over him, not the house but the home, the paintings on the wall, the curtains… even the silk roses on the table and the crystal vase looked familiar. The sense of dread began to rise in his throat. Jordan stood next to him, noticing that he had turned two shades of white.

"Woody, you okay?" she asked, concerned

He seemed to shake himself quickly with the sound of her voice. "Yeah… yeah… I'm fine its just…" he couldn't finish his sentence, because… it was her.

"Woody?" Jordan said, her voice thickening with apprehension.

She looked exactly the same, except softer. Her long, auburn hair fallen around her like a halo. Her clothes and face smeared with dirt. Her lips were slightly parted like she was trying to speak to him beyond the grave. "Oh…my…god." He whispered, trying to move, but his feet seemed anchored to the spot on the top of the steps that led down into the lush green lawn where her body lay under the wide expanse of the apple tree. He hadn't even known she was in Boston.

"Woody!" Jordan shouted, starting to feel a little scared, though she wasn't exactly sure why. He looked at her with something approaching dismay. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Instead he turned on his heel and began to walk toward her fast. He wasn't sure how he had found the courage to move, but he muscled it up from somewhere deep inside of him, somewhere he hadn't found the need to draw from in a long time.

He could hear Jordan's footsteps behind him, lighter than his, struggling to keep up. He came to a stop a few feet away from her body, lying limp under the tree staring up at the sapphire sky. He knelt down, not touching her, not saying anything, just staring down at her in something like awe.

"Her name is Annie Cody… she's thirty one, auburn hair, green eyes." He whispered softly to Jordan who still had a look of confusion on her face. He looked back down at the girl he had left Wisconsin for. "I almost married her." He finished with a sigh, standing up and pulling off his gloves. "I shouldn't be here…" he whispered, feeling suddenly tired and alone.

Then as quickly as he came he turned and left, not being able to see her like that, like a body. Jordan still stood in the same spot staring back at him, not being able to say anything. But as he reached the driveway he collapsed on the porch. And he sat cradling his head in his hands.

He wasn't sure how long he was like that, just nursing that feeling he had in the bottom of his stomach. He felt like the world suddenly turned flat, it now seemed too simple, too fair.

"Woody?" he didn't need to turn around to know who it was. She sat down next to him, not sure of what to do.

"Jordan… just leave… please… just, leave." Those words stung, she had known what it was like to find a loved one dead, but she understood the pain, the shock he was feeling and stayed, unmoving.

"Woody, I know right now might not be the best time…" she allowed her voice to trail off when he looked up and stared at her, his blue eyes cutting threw her core.

"Jordan…please leave." He asked in a softer tone than before, but his meaning was clear. Jordan couldn't blame him, she had lead him on for too long, held him at arms length. Now he felt like he couldn't trust her. Still she found herself angry with him, she wasn't entirely sure why.

"Whatever." She whispered with more malice than she had intended, turned and went back inside, leaving Woody alone.

Woody was alone again, with his thoughts, pouring out of his mind like a words from a poets mind. Flashbacks of memories long forgotten, and thousands of regrets, he could never right again.

Why was she in Boston? He thought to himself bitterly, he hadn't known, last he had heard was she had married Paul, her fathers deputy and moved to Milwaukee… then he had heard she had gotten divorced and seemed to fall off the face of the earth.

He rocked back and forth with sickness. Her white skin set off her auburn hair and sightless green hair, could it be that she had been more beautiful in death than in life. Of course, his memory of her was distant and hazy. Nigel and Jordan followed the medic's out as they led the body to the van, he caught sympathetic looks from them both.

She had fallen from a tree? That was a fact, the way her blood was haphazardly spilt in the dust and the way her neck had broken proved it, not to mention she was staring up, not down. But what had possessed her to climb a tree?

Sure, she was reckless in high school always daring him to go with her on a adventure she promised would be the thrill of his life. But she had grown, softer, more mature in her latter years.

He stood, like shaking himself from a dream… he would find out, one way or another. He found his way to his car, and drove away.