This is a kinda sorta second half to Untitled/Thanksgiving. Hope ya'll enjoy, and my apologies for it takin' so damned long. I don't own Crossing Jordan. Words in italics are Garrett's thoughts, words in bold are Jordan's thoughts. If I get something wrong I ask to be corrected. Also, there is something I'd like to know: what color are Jordan's/ Garret's eyes, if any of you have noticed?
Untitled/Thanksgiving
Pt. 2
A knock on her door brought her out of her silent reverie.
Opening it up, she saw her boss standing there, looking concerned.
As well he should, she thought gloomily. I don't even know what the hell's wrong with me. Didn't have any problems for awhile after it happened, and now all of a sudden I'm having nightmares about it?
"Hey," was all she said out loud, her eyes not meeting his own.
"Hey," He rumbled back, frowning. She didn't look good. Didn't look good at all. "Can I come in?"
"Oh, yeah…where the hell did my manners go? Please…" She opened the door wider and backed away as he entered, making her way to the kitchen and grabbing the coffee pot. Pouring some of it into a mug, she asked Garrett if he wanted some.
"Yes please," he replied, and she poured some for him too.
Walking back into the living room, she handed him his coffee, then sat down with her own, her hands wrapped around the mug so tightly that it almost seemed to Garrett as if she was trying to draw all the warmth from it that she could.
Something was seriously wrong with her.
"So you want to talk about it?"
She nodded silently. "Just give me a minute."
"Okay."
Minutes passed without either of them talking to each other before she began to speak.
"Garrett, why is this all happening now? Why didn't I start having the nightmares right after it happened? Why now?" Her eyes met his own, pleading silently for an answer.
"Honestly Jordan I couldn't say, but if I was to hazard a guess I'd say it was because of shock…and I'd say now you're going through the stages of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Do you know exactly what set this off?"
"Probably that guy we saw last night at dinner asking me if I was that woman that had been buried alive. Just a guess, but…"
"That might be it then. Or it could be something less obvious."
"Maybe."
"Have you thought about…talking to someone more qualified?"
"As in a shrink?" She barked out a laugh. "I don't hardly think so."
"Why not?"
"Garrett, when you let out all your thoughts and feelings, ninety percent of the time their only question is 'and how do you feel about that?' If I wanted to hear that one goddamned sentence over and over again, Garrett, and pay up the ass for doing so, then I'd go see a shrink. Notice me not calling one up right now and demanding to speak to one."
"You called me up and wanted to speak to me."
Jordan grunted.
"That's different."
"How so?" He put down his mug and stared at her, his dark eyes betraying no emotion.
"Well for one thing you're not chargin' me any money for driving all the way here in the middle of a fuckin' snowstorm, and for another thing you haven't asked me 'how do you feel about that' yet."
"Well Jordan, I do so hate to disappoint, but how do you feel about that?"
She glared at him.
"How did I know those were going to be the next words to come out of your mouth, Garrett?"
Would you have liked me to say that I care about you?
"You must be psychic, Jordan, what can I say…" Garrett lied easily, leaning back in his seat. "But seriously now, you really ought to see someone to talk about this."
"I am seeing someone…I'm seeing you," Jordan protested, glaring at him stubbornly.
He glared at her back.
"You know what I mean, Jordan, someone who's a licensed psychologist. You can't let what happened to you overrun your life. I won't let it," Garrett said, the first emotion Jordan had seen other than dry sarcasm and worry flare in his eyes. "And neither should you."
"Gee Garrett, I never knew you felt so strongly about this."
"I've seen a lot of people let one traumatic event decide the rest of their life for them, Jordan. I mean, most of the population of New York City is going to be forever traumatized in some way by what happened, and that's understandable, but…"
"But what?"
"But I don't want to see that happen to you," Garrett finished quietly. "You're one of the best Medical Examiners I have Jordan, and you're a friend. I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself if I let something happen to you."
"What happened wasn't your fault Garrett, nor was it Haley's. He knows that, and so should you."
"If we hadn't found you Jordan, when we did, you wouldn't be alive right now. I keep worrying about that one single fact constantly-hell, that's one of the few things I've been thinking about all week."
So pale…so cold when we found you Jordan…saw the scratches on the coffin…and God help me I thought you were dead…I thought my world had ended right there…
"Well here's a newsflash…I'm still here, and I'm healthy as a horse."
"Doesn't change the fact that you should still talk to someone."
"You're going to beat that into the ground, aren't you?" Jordan sighed, finally taking a sip of her hazelnut coffee.
"As long as it takes for you to realize that you need to talk to someone, yes."
"Well what if I don't want to talk to a shrink, hmm?"
"Well I can always suspend you with pay until you choose to do so, but I don't think either of us would enjoy that too much."
Her eyes widened at the thought.
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
"What happened hasn't affected my job, Garrett, and I resent your insinuation that it will," She snarled suddenly, slamming down the mug on the coffee table.
Boy am I glad I didn't break it. It's my favorite mug…
"It hasn't, huh? Jordan, I've caught you once or twice almost falling asleep at autopsies. You've been rather irritable at the Three Musketeers-"
"-Excuse me? 'Three musketeers'?"
"My little private nickname for Bug, Nigel and Trey," Garrett explained with a scowl.
"Ah…I see."
"But getting back to the point, it has become noticeable that it's bothering you, and I don't think you should come back to work until you've learned to deal with it."
"That's harsh, Garrett. That really is."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"I'm sure you are." Her gaze went towards the window, where the snow was beginning to pile up more and more on the road below. "Listen, I don't want you taking a chance driving home in this shit. Why don't you crash on the couch…I'm gonna try to go back to bed."
Garrett nodded as she rose from her seat and went into the kitchen, dumping out her now lukewarm coffee down the sink. From there she went into her bedroom, murmuring a 'good night' to her boss before she slid back into bed.
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock…
It was a long wait before she would see daylight…