Sickness and Health (Part One)
A Crossing Jordan/House Crossover Fanfic
Chapter Nine: That Funny Feeling is Relief
Rating:
PG-13 (I think)
Word Count: 1,964
Disclaimer: I own House. Um, right. That was a lie. I don't own anything. Except seasons 1 & 2 on DVD and my own insanity. I can't even claim to own DVDs for Crossing Jordan.
Summary: Bodies in the Boston Morgue have ties to dying patients at Princeton Plainsboro Hospital.
Author's Note: This is my first Crossing Jordan fanfic & my second House fanfic. The characters may be very, very OOC. It is possible. I have no medical or forensic experience, therefore anything I write is probably very wrong. In fact, I'm almost positive it is wrong. But I wrote it anyway. This is set somewhere after season 2 of House and season 5 of Crossing Jordan, written without seeing any of season 3 or 6 respectively, so... It's not canon... no siree... This has also not been beta'd...if it's not perfect, that's 100 percent my fault.

Okay, for the record, I have never seen the Digger episodes. All I know about Haley is what I've read. So if his character is not in character, I apologize. I suppose I could change the name and make it a generic FBI agent if I need to.

Insomnia is a very bad thing. But I guess it has side benefits for those who want more of this story because I've got nothing better to do than post this. :P


Chapter Nine

That Funny Feeling is Relief

"Haley."

"Drew, it's me. Remember that deal we made?" Jordan asked with a smile.

"'Course I do. You stuck your neck out for the little guy on the totem pole," he agreed. "Got another charity case for me?"

"No…Look, it's about the little guy. Remember I told you about his big brother?"

"Yeah, the big hero," Haley continued, sticking to their code names for Woody and Cal. They'd come naturally, ever so naturally. Woody was a big hero, to her, to everyone.

"The big hero. Right. Well, um, the big hero needs help from his baby brother."

She could hear Haley's frown. "I thought he didn't want the baby brother in his life."

"He doesn't have a life without him," Jordan said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "He needs a transplant, or he'll die."

"Someone really doesn't like our big hero," Haley muttered. "Our guy is buried for at least the next year, Jordan."

"I know. I just… If there was any chance—I know he'd do it regardless of the risk. It's who they are. So I don't want you to tell him, but—if you—if there was any way he could—"

"Jordan, what happened?"

"Oh, just a psycho with a degree in pharmacology and a need for revenge," Jordan answered off-handedly; trying to pretend that it was nothing. "I have to go, Drew. Thank you—for everything."

Jordan closed the phone and turned back to Woody. He'd hate it if he knew that she had called Haley. Cal had sobered up, had really turned his life around, and had even made strides towards taking down the Albanian mob. He'd admitted to what Woody had helped him to cover up, had taken the blame, and would have taken the punishment if the charges hadn't been dropped when he cut his deal with the FBI. Woody was proud of him. He would even let himself die to keep Cal safe from the mob.

It was noble. It was stupid, but it was why she loved him.

She sighed, and closed her eyes. House had said it wouldn't take long to know it Woody would make it, but waiting was torture. Not knowing was torture. But then, if the news had been bad, could she have coped with knowing? Maybe that little shred of hope she had, the one that had gotten her through this, had been worth much more than she would have thought.

Wait a minute.

She could have sworn… Yes, he was awake. His eyes were open. She squeezed his hand, tears running down her face. "I thought I'd lost you, Woody."

He blinked again, trying to orient himself. She bent and kissed his forehead. "I'm so glad you're alive. I—"

"Jordan." His voice startled her. She'd forgotten that she'd taken out the tube in his throat while she waited. After House told her that Woody didn't need the ventilator, she'd wanted to do it, to let him breathe on his own again, even if it was just for a few minutes.

"Yeah, Woody?" she asked, searching his face. Had she gone too far? Maybe—Maybe she shouldn't have kissed him. She'd just been so glad that he was alive, that he was conscious. He could hate her if he wanted. He just had to live.

"I really hate hospitals," Woody whispered weakly.

She laughed. "Me, too."


"Chase?" Cameron asked, wrapping her arms around herself, fighting off the chill from the wind.

House had grabbed Williams' notes, trying to make sense of them, and Foreman had stayed to help him. Cameron had tried to stay, but she wasn't helping, and she knew it. She couldn't concentrate on anything other than Chase. He'd been devastated by the revelation of Casey Williams' vendetta and his possible part in it. House had finally ordered Cameron to find Chase, and she'd been grateful. She wasn't sure why the roof had been her first choice, but she didn't really want to think about it.

"It wasn't your fault."

"She chose this hospital because of me," Chase said, not turning away from the edge of the rooftop. "She wanted me to watch them die, unable to stop it. She was probably pissed because her other victims never made it here."

"House might not have seen them even if they'd lived longer afterwards. That's why she came here, Chase," Cameron said. "She forced House to take on Marsham by using a clinic patient. But she didn't kill all these people just to get back at you. She killed that man in Boston before she knew you were at this hospital. It's in her notes. 'So Daddy's Boy is at PP. Time to get him back, too.'"

"She gave us patients who were dying just so that I would watch," Chase shook his head. "It's sick."

"So is blaming yourself for what other people do," Cameron pointed out. "You couldn't stop her, Chase. She was the one who chose to do this. If not here, then it would have been somewhere else. At least here House was able to guess what she'd used."

Chase turned back. "What?"

"Detective Hoyt should recover, if he gets the transplant he needs," Cameron explained. She'd almost forgotten that Chase had missed that announcement. House had been smug, Foreman had smiled, and all of the assistants they'd been given had cheered. She smiled as she saw relief wash over Chase.

She jumped a little when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He held on for a moment, and Cameron tried to relax. She knew that he needed this, needed to release the guilt that was tormenting him, but his pride stopped him short.

He pulled back and started towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" she called after him, still too stunned to move.

"To make sure he gets that transplant," Chase answered, opening the door and disappearing down the stairs.


"You're going to hate me," Jordan began.

He thought of all the things he could say to that. That he could never hate her. That as angry as she made him, there would always be that part of him that stubbornly held on and loved her in spite of everything going on with him, her, and the rest of their lives. He could have said a hundred different things. He settled on one.

"Why?"

He was still trying to process the fact that he was alive. They'd told him that he had something that killed people so fast they never woke up again, right before he lost consciousness. It hadn't been a very long time to contemplate his mortality, but it was enough. And yet he was here, alive and conscious, unless he'd been condemned to a hell where he would be tormented by reliving the moment in the hospital when he'd pushed Jordan away over and over and over again.

No, it couldn't be. This was a different hospital. Only the equipment was familiar.

So what was going on?

"Dr. House offered me a solution to save your life. It prevented any further damage, and you're young. The dose wasn't as effective on you. Your heart and lungs will be fine. But your liver is iffy. And your kidneys… They're shot, Woody. You need a transplant. You can get by on dialysis for a while, but…"

Woody looked at her. "So, it wasn't a cure."

"No."

"I'm tied to that machine until I get a kidney."

"Yes." She looked at him, her eyes begging him to understand. "I'm sorry, Woody. It was that or… I couldn't lose you, Woody."

It wasn't the first time he'd heard that tone of heartbreak in her voice, but he sincerely hoped it would be the last. He reached out a hand to touch her cheek. Why had he wasted so much time being angry? He should have been grateful that she'd made it back from D.C. in one piece, not blaming her for everything that went wrong. And it wasn't really her fault. It was his. He'd been the one to mess things up by dating Lu when he wasn't, could never be over Jordan. He'd taken everything out on Jordan because she was a convenient target. He had no right to be angry with her.

He needed to apologize. Now. "Jordan, I'm not—"

"Ah, so sorry to interrupt the tender, touching reunion, but if my patient is awake, it's time to check on him," House said, causing Jordan to jump back out of Woody's reach. He let his hand fall and glared at the intruders.

He saw Foreman roll his eyes and knew Jordan hadn't missed it, either. House had come back to break up the "touching" reunion. Foreman made notes on the chart before braving Woody's obvious wrath to listen to his lungs and heart. He stepped back with a smile. "Your heart and breath sounds are good. We're still monitoring your liver. It might just recover from the damage on its own. But your kidneys—"

"Jordan already told me," Woody cut him off quickly. "I understand. If I don't get a kidney, I'll die. If my liver fails—I won't get two transplants."

"Says the rules," House said. "But we're not fond of them, are we? Know anyone we can con into giving up an organ or two?"

Jordan's phone rang. She winced. Woody shook his head to let her know it was okay to answer it. "Cavanaugh."

The voice on the other end was louder than it should have been. Woody could hear the entire conversation. "Jordan, it's Haley. I don't know how, but someone told our boy about his brother."

"It wasn't me, Haley. I haven't left this room. I swear I have no idea where he is. I didn't even ask anyone to look."

"It doesn't matter. He says the deals off if he can't help his brother. He'll be there soon. So will I. And probably the Albanian mob. But the good news is, your friend will have his transplant."

No, no, no. Cal, you idiot. Woody looked at Jordan as she closed the phone. "Tell me that wasn't what I think it was."

"Your brother is going to help you, Woody. He doesn't care if it costs him his deal. He gets more like you every day," Jordan said with a smile, tears forming again in her eyes.

"Yeah, and we all want that because I'm such a prize," Woody muttered. "Did you tell Cal—"

"I don't know where he is, Woody. Really. I haven't left this room in hours. Not even to pee. Speaking of which, I kind of have to do that. But, no, I just talked to Haley, ran the idea past him, but he wasn't going for it." She saw his disbelief. "I know you don't want him to do this, but the records from Kewanee show that he is your best match. And if you need a liver transplant, even if we were to throw the rules out the window, you need Cal to give it to you. You're right. UNOS would never approve both."

"But if Cal gives—"

"Woody, you're taking Cal's kidney whether you like it or not," Jordan insisted. "You might not need a liver transplant. But you have to let him help you. He loves you, and he needs to do this for you as much as you need him to do it."

Woody nodded weakly. He wanted to fight this, but he knew that there was no point. Jordan would never back down. "Jordan, I'm tired."

She took his hand. "It's okay. Get some rest."

"Why? So you don't have to feel guilty about leaving to go to the bathroom?"

"Something like that," she answered with a grin.