Jordan was ushered out the door through the hallways, and out the backdoor to the car, all while four armed agents moved, ringed around her, guns drawn, ready to pounce. She was exhausted as she sat back in the seat, agents on either side of her, bound for who knew where, and who knew how long. She'd finally given in, she'd let herself feel, and let herself cry. But could she keep it up, could she let herself feel without it destroying her?

She didn't know if she could, but she tried. So, Instead of remaining stoic and uncaring her few weeks back in protective custody, she let her emotions show. Somewhat. When she gave in and ended up sobbing at news report about J.D., the agent sitting beside her looked completely lost. He tried to console her, but unfortunately, shoulder to cry on was not in his job description, and he was all thumbs, so to speak.

Jordan ended her little experiment there, instead she cried herself to sleep at least twice a week. Truth be told, as awkward as it had become, those people were all she had in the world, and she did miss them. She was angry and frustrated and depressed all at the same time, and the moments they all hit her at once it was hard to deal. These were the nights that she'd go to bed early, and cry softly until sleep finally took her, late into the night. But, one thing could be said for these nights; it helped her deal. Little by little, the frustration and angry began to subside, and the pain became easier to take.

It was the next evening after the latest one of these sleepless nights that found Jordan smiling. It was even almost real. She was playing scrabble with one of the agents guarding her, and winning, thanks to her medical terminology.

"This is so not fair, you can't use doctorology!"

"Is too. You are perfectly welcome to use any vocabulary from profession."

"That's more common than, what the hell did you put down, cytosine? What the hell is that?"

"One of the four base pairs that make up DNA."

"That's it? Damn it's been awhile since high school biology."

"Dextrose. There I won. Game over." Jordan said as she laid her words on the board.

"That has something to do with sugar doesn't it?"

"Yep."

"So, doc, tell me honestly, how are you holding up?"

"As good as anyone would be…what do you think the odds of me getting to go home are?"

"U.S. attorney has a good case, I think you have a pretty good shot."

"Thanks."

"I wasn't just humoring you, I really mean that- Uh hang on." He said pausing to answer his phone.

"Grady."

"Seriously?"

"That's great!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell her immediately."

"Yeah, by the end of the week at the most." He finished, hanging up.

"What'd I tell ya, Doc? Your jury just came back with a guilty verdict. Dickheads got heavy sentences coming to them. You're going home."

"Really?" Jordan uttered in disbelief. It was a good thing she was sitting or she would have fallen over.

"Yep, by the end of the week…Hey, you okay, you don't look so good."

"Yeah, my head is spinning…It's really over?"

"Done. Over. No more. Your Hell has finally ended."

Two days later Jordan was on a plane with a one-way ticket from Oregon to Boston. She was thrilled, nervous, excited, and a little nauseous. Garret was meeting her at the airport, he was the only one that knew she was coming back. She needed to gradually get back into her life, a storm of her friends would just send her running now. She's spent so much time alone that that much attention would scare the hell out of her.

She got to skip baggage claim when she arrived, all she had was a carry-on. She had spent the last four months traveling very, very lightly. She scanned the airport, FBI agent still by her side, playing protector, just to be safe. Then she saw Garret, and instead of running like she thought she would, she walked apprehensively, recalling their last encounter.

When she got to him tears were already in her eyes, and when he wrapped his arms around her, she just lost it. She collapsed into him, sobbing, both sinking to the floor. She was crying for every reason that she'd wanted to in the last four months, and hadn't let herself. She cried for J.D., she cried for her fear, confusion, and loneliness, and she cried because it was finally over.

Garret didn't know how long she'd cried for. He knew it was a while, because after waiting uncomfortably that FBI agent gave up, and left her in his capable hands. He knew this because, he'd heard numerous flight departures announced. He finally got her up, and they walked out of the airport, Jordan still looking more apprehensive, and more broken than he'd ever seen her. When they got to Max's she hugged her father hard, and then passed out in on his couch, not bothering to go to the bed.

"Hello?" Max answered the ringing phone the next afternoon.

"Is Jordan Cavanaugh available?"

"Who's calling?"

"Cindy Carmichael from CBS 5. I was wondering if I could-"

"No, you can't. Leave her alone, she's been through enough." Max said angrily, hanging up on her.

"Dad who was that?" Jordan had heard the end of the conversation.

"Don't worry about it."

"A reporter?"

"Yes."

"Wow, I thought I'd have a bit more time."

"They have been calling everybody, especially Garret. Apparently it's fairly common knowledge that you two are close?"

"I guess…How long have they been doing this?"

"Week or two since you went to D.C. I guess."

"And nobody told me?"

"You couldn't have done anything, and you didn't need another worry."

"I still wish you'd told me."

"What, so you could worry about those obnoxious bastards instead of staying alive? I don't think so. Anyway, we all just started screening." He said smiling at her.

Jordan would have let it go, but the next few days showed her she couldn't. Reporters called at least once an hour at her father's house, almost as often Garret's numerous lines, work, home, cell. Woody, Lu, Lily, Nigel, and Bug were all getting called at least once every few hours. On occasion a reporter would have balls enough to knock on apartment doors. Once a week at least one would be ballsy enough to walk into the morgue, they didn't stay long though.

Three days after she came back to Boston, Jordan started back at work. Not in full capacity obviously. She finished paperwork that she'd had to leave, basically fixed the mess that had been left when she left. This was when she finally decided to end the mess. She could hear Nigel's voice through her open office door.

"Dr. Cavanaugh has permanently moved to Miami. She isn't coming back."

"Do you have a forwarding address, or new phone number."

"Testicles of steel you have, don't you? I'm not giving you any information. Bugger off!"

"When you talk to her, tell her Lifetime is interested on getting her story, we'd like to do a movie on her. Here's my card."

"Fine. Leave, now."

"Alright, alright. Relax." When Jordan heard the door close she went up to Nigel.

"Bloody Lifetime wants you, Love." He said walking back to his office as she followed him.

"I heard. Sorry."

"Not your fault, don't think it for a minute. You didn't ask for the harassment."

"I know, but I am the reason for it."

"They can't keep it up much longer."

"They hell they can't. Nige, do you still have the card from that PBS reporter?" Nigel could see the wheels in her head turning.

"Probably in the box I saved to use as kindling." He told her rummaging through the desk he'd just gotten back to.

"Can I have it?"

"Of course- Why?"

"I'm ending this."

"What are you going to do?" He asked holding up the card.

"Take back my life."

"Angie Harper's office."

"May I please speak to Ms. Harper?"

"She is a bit busy at the moment, but I'll give her a message."

"Tell her Jordan Cavanaugh is calling, she'll take this call."

"Cavanaugh, Cavanaugh…the M.E. from Boston!."

"Yes. I'd like to speak with her."

"Yes, yes, just a moment." The secretary was suddenly very flustered.

"Dr. Cavanaugh?" Jordan heard the anxious voice less than minute later.

"Call me Jordan."

"Jordan, what can I do for you?" she seemed almost in shock.

"I want to offer you an exclusive to my story."

"When can you come in to be interviewed?"

"Tomorrow work for you?"

"I'll make it work. You know we are in New York, right?"

"Yes. I'll see you at nine."

"Alright, thank you Jordan."

The next night Jordan was dead tired after being interviewed all day. They had spent a miracle of only half and hour on make-up and then jumped into the interview. They stopped for lunch at 1 o'clock, and continued on till nearly nine. The camera had stopped rolling, everybody was quitting, and Jordan was about to leave when Angie said she had one more question.

"Not that I don't appreciate, because I do. But, why me?"

"I thought PBS would be the least likely to screw me over." Jordan answered, turning her heel and leaving for her hotel.

"If only they were all that honest." Angie said as she shook her head in amusement and headed to her dressing room. She would be grateful to the ballsy M.E. for a long time, PBS was already discussing a raise or even a promotion.