Home was never safe for Jordan; it was the one place where death and life came together. She stood in the hospital hallway, staring numbly at Woody, his eyes darting around frantically for her, nurses and doctors tried in vain to calm him down, tying his wrists to the bed with gauze, he fought them as he searched for her desperately, his eyes darted around, he shouted her name hysterically, mumbled about white skin and crimson blood.

Tears fell freely down her blood stained face, she was covered with blood, it saturated her legs, arms, dress, and face. It crusted in her chestnut hair. Her eyes stared blankly at him in disbelief. This wasn't what was suppose to happen, he was her prince charming, they were suppose to ride off in the sunset, happily ever after.

She slid to the floor, staring down at her bare feet, her toenails all painted up lavender. If they could see her now, all sick like and tired. A thin, tidy looking nurse walked over to her, gently picking her up and leading her to a chair down the hall, which Jordan promptly slid out of, she was more comfortable on the cold floor than on the chair.

The white lights blinded her as she leaned against the chair for support. What would happen if he left, if she never could call him in the middle of the night to hear his voice? Where would she be if he was gone? She would be a little girl, scared and alone, like that night, the night. She found whenever he was around she didn't feel like that ten year old, scared and motherless. He made everything okay and somehow bearable.

She cowered on the floor, not sure of herself and abandoned, the hall was empty, and she tried to crawl toward the trauma room where he was. She failed, and had to clutch the hand rail along the wall, to exhausted from crying she just sat there, hold that hand rail, sobbing in vain.

She heard their voices long before she saw them, especially Nigel. Soon his lanky figure came into view, as did Garret, then Peter, then Bug, Devan and Lily. All had these concerned looks on their faces. Nigel stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her sitting on the floor, a blood trail from where she crawled. She looked so little and weak, his eyes fell to her dress, black with blood, so much blood.

She held out her arms to him like a child begging to be picked up. When Garret leaned down, she draped her arms around his neck, he lifted her easily, and she was so lifeless in his strong arms. He walked over to the chair and sat with her in his lap; she buried her face in his neck and wept.

A nurse was walking towards them, Devan, Lily, Bug, Peter and Nigel all shared a look, her head was down, face calm, yet just beyond it some look of regret and sadness. "Miss Cavanaugh, the doctor would like a word with you."

When she had tried to kill herself, she thought that was a low, she hadn't known low until that moment when the nurse walked toward them. She was wearing Mickey Mouse scrubs, Jordan reminded herself to get a pair, and she was trying to ignore that feeling of sadness and guilt that riled her stomach. Everyone moved painfully slow, waiting for Jordan to take lead.

The doctor looked grim, Jordan almost screamed when she saw that, doctors weren't supposed to look like that. She noticed Nigel slip out of the room, she wasn't sure where he was going, and she didn't care.

"Doctor Cavanaugh, I'm Doctor Foster I'm treating Detective Hoyt, we've got the bullet out, but his weakened condition is a cause for concern, it's minute by minute, we'll have to take him to surgery soon..." Jordan fell sobbing on the ground. No one moved, the air was so still, the short, stocky doctor had the good grace to look uncomfortable. Nigel steeled back into the room.

"I just called his mum in Kewaunee, his family is taking the next flight out." He said softly, watching Jordan with trepidation. Bug slumped into a chair, soon everyone followed suit.

"If you want to see him, you can, but only for a few moments." They doctor said, standing to leave.

Jordan stood slowly, Garret put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, she was startled by the touch and pulled away quickly. Garret put his head in his hands, too tired to do anymore. Everyone held their breath as they watched her wander out to the hall.

He was sleeping, his eyes closed peacefully, his forehead was encrusted with sweat, he muttered imperceptibly to himself incoherently, she brushed back his hair from his eyes. He was hot to the touch.

"Woody?" she asked him, as if the word alone would bring him back to her. When he didn't answer her eyes fell to her feet. "Woody I don't know if you can hear me. I just wanted to say... that was the stupidest thing, what in the hell were you thinking huh?" she smiled threw her tears, trying to joke with herself. She couldn't explain the feeling in her stomach; it was different than anything else she had ever experienced. Love, sadness, grief and pain mixed with regret. "I- I thought it was impossible to love someone the way I love you Wood, you have faith in me and I don't know if you know what that's worth to me... oh god, I love you..."

She set her head down on the rail of the bed and closed her eyes. He seemed so far away and yet so close to her. Jordan let out a heavy sigh, the exhaustion was catching up to her.

"I knew it," Woody whispered coughing. Jordan's head shot up in shock.

"Woody!" she asked wiping her face quickly. He opened his sparkling azure eyes for a fleeting second to look at her, his face relaxed as he studied her. "Jesus Christ Farm Boy you scared the life outta me!" she stated setting her chin on his chest.

"What's all this blood? Oh my God Jordan are you okay?!" he struggled to sit up, a pair of firm hands pushed him back down.

"I'm fine Woody, they're more concerned about you, it appears you hit a bullet with your body." He smiled weakly, a warm Woody Hoyt smile. She saw in the dimly lighted hospital room, the fear in his eyes, he was scared, he would never admit it to her, and he didn't need to. "Its okay," she picked up his hand and held it close to her face. "You're okay."

He could feel her tears on his hand, he couldn't feel a lot, he felt pain and fear, but somehow relieved that Jordan was okay. The vertigo was awful, the room was like a giant tilt-a-whirl. There was no rhyme or reason of why he loved Jordan, just this sense of completion, she was his way home. He leaned back in his bed, resolving the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach away. He closed his eyes, he could finally rest.

Jordan watched him close his beautiful, big eyes and this feeling of helplessness washed over her. After a minute of watching him, she noticed his breathing was becoming shallow. She perked up in worry, he was mumbling to himself again.

"Woody? Woody!" she shook his shoulder hard.

"Aw, Ow!" she inhaled with relief, he was alive.

"Sorry, go back to sleep." She whispered, wiping his hair off of his forehead softly. Just then the nurses came in to take him to prep him for surgery. In the end all she could do was wait, wait for some sort of vindication, some sort of shiny light, anything that would make the pain cease.