You're Not Crazy

Here is my first attempt at a Crossing Jordan fic that isn't a 1/1. Hope you like it. And I don't own Crossing Jordan and all that jazz.

Jordan went off the deep end and is put in an asylum (mental hospital).

All this is told in Jordan's POV.

I sit with my back to the cold wall of my bright, small room. Cell would be a better word to describe this Hell hole. There are no windows, flowers, or anything brightly colored for that matter. It's as if someone dropped me in an old black and white film. You know, the ones with no sound? Yeah, those. I close my eyes as I finish tracing one of the almost healed scars on my forearm. It has been two months and they still haven't healed completely. Two months. That's how long I've been in here. It's been two months since I've brushed my own hair and put on makeup and cute clothes. Two months since I've slept in a decent bed or had a decent meal. It's been two whole, long months since I have felt happy. Most of all, it's been two months since I've seen him.

I can't really blame him though, and I don't. No one wants to come see, let alone date, a suicidal psychopath who got thrown into the asylum.

Others have come though. Once a week I'm aloud to have two visitors under supervision. Sometimes it's Lily and Garret, other times it's been Nigel and Bug. I guess I'm a little glad he hasn't shown up. I just hate to see how he'd look at me. The others show looks of disappointment and sadness. But with him, I know he would be angry. Not the mad, pissed off angry, but the hurt, depressed, "how could you do this?" angry.

It was really hard at first. They were, and still are, very emotional when they come see me. They cry, weep, sometimes yell. That's not the hard part. The thing is, they are so emotional, and comparing their emotions to my own void of emotion is difficult.

The doctors say I'm getting better. They remind me on what seems like an hourly basis that I'm not crazy. Something must be wrong with me, though. I've failed the last two psychological exams they've given me. Those exams are the key to my freedom, and if I pass, I'm free to go. Every time I fail, I earn myself another month in this place. I heard someone saying that I don't have anything to look forward to when I get out, so I'm pretty much careless.

They couldn't be more correct. It feels as if I've lost everything I've ever wanted, needed, and dreamed of.

I sigh to myself and blink, expecting some tears will show themselves. Any normal person would be crying right now. They would want nothing more than to get out of here. Not me. I don't feel anything. Not anymore. I'm numb all the time, and I've come to accept the dark and sad thoughts.

That's not to say it isn't hard to think about it; that day. It is very hard. I remember it as if were just today.

It had been a long, rainy day. I'd just pulled a double at the morgue. Woody and I were gong to grab a couple movies and order some takeout. We always did this; we were best friends, after all. But lately it had been different. We'd gotten closer on the couch, we fell asleep together most nights, and on the nights we didn't he always gave me a good night kiss. Not to mention the constant hand holding and lingering hugs. I was actually excited things were going so well and we were getting closer. We were spending so much time together, we both had to admit, like it or not, we were in a relationship. Needless to say, that night I couldn't wait to see him. I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door as fast as I could to meet him at the police precinct.

When I got there, no one said anything to me when I welcomed myself in. They were all used to it by now. I flashed a few smiles and said a couple "hellos" on my way down the hall. The door to Woody's office was cracked, and I was just about to let myself in when I stopped; a female voice was coming from the other side. Curiosity peaked, I leaned an ear in closer. I could hear his voice.

"I can't do this."

"Of course you can. Just relax."

"Okay, uh. Look, babe, you, uh, really mean a lot to me. You're my world. I don't think I could go on without you in my life. I, um. know I have never said this before, but I love you. I love you more than anything or anyone in this world. You make my life complete. I know we aren't technically in a relationship, but, uh, I would be honored if you'll wear my ring and be my wife.""Oh Woody!"

"Hold on, now, let me get down on one knee."

"I LOVE it! Oh my God! YES!"

"I love you.""I love you, too!"

At that point there was laughter and joy coming from inside the room. My heart sunk deep in my stomach and I felt as if I was going to puke. Who was that? Did he really just propose? How come he never told me about this girl? What have we been doing? Tears streamed down my face and I backed away from he door slowly. I ran out of the precinct as fast as I could.

I ran all the way home, into the bathroom, slammed the door, and fell to the floor. I rummaged through the vanity drawers and finally found what I was looking for: a beautiful, shiny new razor blade. As if I were on auto pilot, I went to town on my arms, cutting as deep as I could, hoping to destroy my veins and sever any chance of life I might hold.

The last thing I remember is passing out, then opening my eyes to feel Woody holding me. His tears fell on my face and he whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes again, and that's the last time I've seen the love of my life since.

Why did he hold me? Why did he care? He was going to have a beautiful wife, and family. What was he doing there when he should have been out celebrating. Something wasn't right.

"Jordan."

My chain of thought is broken when Jackie, one of the good nurses, snaps me back into reality. That's when I realize I am in a fetal position on the floor. Damn these meds. I sat up slowly, trying to force a half smile on my face.

"Jordan, you have a visitor here to see you, but if you aren't well I can tell him to come back tomorrow."

"No no no. I'm great."

"You're sure? Have you taken your medication today?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Absolutely. Which one of the guys is it?"

"Someone I've never seen before. It's not any of the normal three that usually come."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Then who is it?"

The first person that comes to mind is my father. Had he somehow found out I was in the looney bin? Nah, couldn't be him. I haven't been able to get in contact with him, it's highly unlikely someone else has.

"He says his name is Hoyt. Woodrow Hoyt. He's pretty cute."

My eyes widen and I slowly nod. "Take me to him."