Chapter Seven

"You're going where?" Jordan asked, her voice tinged with anger, astonishment, and worry.

"Home. Back to Kewuanne. For a few days, at least," Woody replied, gathering up his things from her apartment.

"Why? Do you think you should go by yourself now?" He had only been talking with Dr. Stiles for a week and a half.

Woody glanced at her. Seeing the worry that was wrinkling her forehead and the concern that was in her eyes, he walked over to her and gently ran his hands down her arms. "I'm only going for a few days. I promise…no funny stuff. No drugs…just my Prozac. I won't do anything stupid. I'll have my phone. You can call me every fifteen minutes if you feel like you need to check up on me.

But Jordan, this is something I really need to do. You don't know everything about me. Not my past…not what makes me the way I am. You don't know the reason I take the Prozac. All of those answers lie back in Wisconsin. And those are the issues I'm going to have to go back and face. I can't deal with them here. The people and the events that really caused me to turn to drugs for relief aren't here in Boston. It's those people, and ghosts in some circumstances, I'm going to have to deal with."

"Then take me with you. I have the time off."

Woody tightened his hands on her arms, as if to reassure her that he would be okay. "No. Not yet. I need to do this by myself. Just like you had to do with the issues surrounding your mother, father, Malden, and James."

She nodded. She understood, but could feel her eyes filling with tears. "But what if…what if things get really bad for you…what if…what if..."

Woody pulled her to him and gently hugged her. During the past week or so he had stayed at her apartment, she had taken the couch and given him the bed while he was recuperating. It was only recently that he had objected, waiting until she was asleep, then carrying her to the bed and tucking her in, and taking the couch himself. He owed this lady more than he could ever repay. And if he came out completely whole on the other side of things, he would owe her his life. A debt he was more than willing to pay.

But until he knew for sure that the demons that constantly tormented his soul and wrestled with his thoughts in the back of his mind…until he knew they were truly gone, he couldn't repay that debt. His goal was to come back to her a complete man…whole and healthy…the kind of man she deserved. The kind of man he wanted to be.

"I'll be fine, Jo. Honestly. Cal is going to be there. I've already talked to him. He won't let me get in any trouble."

"Does he know…about the Oxycotin?"

"Yeah. I told him."

"What did he say?"

"He was just surprised that I hadn't done something like this before." Woody kissed the top of her head and went back to packing. "I leave this afternoon. Dr. Stiles is going to be by here to pick me up in a few minutes."

Jordan sat down on the bed beside the suitcase. "He's okay with you doing this?"

"Sort of. He wants me to go. He didn't want me going by myself, though. But when I told him Cal would be there, he was okay with it."

Jordan nodded and looked up at him as he zipped the top of his suitcase closed. She would miss him and worry about him far more than he would ever know. And then there was the niggling worry tickling her mind that he may decide he still liked Wisconsin and decide to stay there. Quietly she asked, "You will be coming back…to Boston?"

Woody took her hands and drew her to her feet. Looking deep in her eyes, he read the concern. "I'll be back, Jordan. I'll be back within a week. I promise." Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he grabbed his suitcase and headed downstairs to wait for Dr. Stiles.

"There's somewhere I'd like to go first, before we head to the airport," Woody told Dr. Stiles as they loaded his suitcase into the car.

"I thought we were leaving kind of early for you to catch your plane. You drive," the doctor said, tossing the keys to Woody. Woody pulled the car into the afternoon traffic and soon Dr. Stiles knew exactly where they were heading…the crash site…the place where Devan's plane went down so many months ago. "Are you sure you really need to do this?" he asked the detective.

"Yeah. It's part of it." Woody knew that while he had told the young ME goodbye at the site weeks ago, he had never really faced up to the fact that the relationship they had would have never worked out. He had pinned his hopes and dreams on something that would have eventually hurt the both of them very badly. Even if Devan hadn't been on that plane or by some miracle she had survived, what they had together wouldn't have lasted beyond Chinese take out on Sunday nights. He wasn't coming back to say goodbye again to Devan. He was coming back to apologize.

He climbed out of his car at the site and walked over to the black hole that still scarred the earth and still smelled of jet fuel. It pained him to know that she…or what was left of her…was still there. Squatting down, he wordlessly stared at the place of impact for a long time…letting his thoughts drift back to her. Her laugh, her eyes… her jokes. They way she would listen to him intently with her chin on her hand. Her boundless energy…her enthusiasm for solving the most difficult case. He smiled. Sorry, Dev, he thought. God knows this wasn't fair to you…you were only trying to help someone and look where it got you. But I have to be honest…as much as I liked you, I didn't love you. At least in the way you wanted me to…or deserved to be loved. You were right. Jordan still has my heart. I didn't want to believe you, but you were right when you said it probably would have never worked out between us. But I miss you…you were my friend. A good friend. I'll remember you. Always. I'm so sorry this happened to you…and I'm so sorry I couldn't love you…and for one last time I just wanted to let you know you were right. I was never over Jordan. I never will be. I never want to be. I'm just not sure I deserve her anymore than I deserved you.

Dr. Stiles came over to him as he stood. "Are you all right Woody?"

"Yeah." The catch in his voice was evident.

"Final goodbyes are always tough."

"Final goodbyes and final apologies."

Dr. Stiles gave the detective a sharp look. Finally, putting his arm around Woody's shoulder, he said, "Yes. Yes they are. And it's a wise man that finally says both."