Ch 2: Dreamless Sleep and Hopeful prayers

Note: If you guys are wondering what happened to Woody or who Mac and Angela is, read Brokendown Palace

Jordan had a dream, she was sitting in Woody's car, Mac in the backseat, the CB radio crackling to life with the screams of Woody's partner and friend from his hometown Angela Hayden, telling him not to go in without back up. Then there it was, that gunshot, ringing through the silence of the late buttery afternoon. She felt a chill go through her body, she knew that sound, she was a cop's daughter, that sound was permanently imprinted in her mind. She jumped out of the car, running on wobbly legs.

"Woody!" she had screamed, running as fast as she could, Woody had told her to wait in the car, but she was so scared, she had forgotten everything but him. Mackenzie was yelling after her, telling her that Woody had told them not to go inside, no matter what.

She could never forget the look of that abandoned building that seemed so normal on the outside. The walls were painted crimson with blood. Dead people lay all around, in a Mexican style shootout, A small girl raced past her, Jordan seemed not to notice. All she could see was Woody laying up against an overturned couch, a spreading stain on his stomach. He looked at her with narrow eyes, writhing with pain.

"I thought I told you to stay in the car." Mac burst through the door, a scared expression on her seven year old face, she tried to go to Woody but Woody told her to stay away. "Jordan get her out of here." Jordan seemed frozen, couldn't move. "Jordan! Get Mac outa here!"

Then she woke up, her face drenched in a cold sweat and her palms had deep, white crescents from where she had dug her fingers into her skin. She got up and walked into her kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water and sat down at the table, not bothering to turn on the light. Steady streams of moonlight mixed with the city lights were enough to light her entire house.

Closing her eyes she could almost smell him close to her. She had ran for so long, and when she realized it, it was to late, he was gone. She smiled when she thought of all the late night movies and little traditions they had. All the things she put him through, all the cases, she drove him crazy. Then a string of prostitutes were murdered, their daughters kidnapped, and when they tried to run they met the same fate as their mothers. They had found a little seven year old Mackenzie behind a dumpster, barely alive. And Woody fell for her and her blue eyes, immediately he was wrapped around her finger as was the rest of the morgue. She was smart, funny, pretty and in desperate need of a family, a family that woody and the morgue was supplying. Then Woody got that message on the CB. "Sir, we got him."

And he went in… hell bent on catching the man that murdered those kids. No backup was a mistake, and he died because of it, but he saved a lot of lives, and everyone agreed he was a hero.

The light flicked on, Mac was standing there in her plaid pajama's "Aunt Jo? Are you okay."

"Yeah Mac Baby, I'm fine, I just miss Woody."

"I know I miss him too… you know sometime we should visit his grave." Mac suggested.

"No… not yet." Jordan said with a firm shake of her head.

"Aunt Jo, its been five years." Mac protested

"I know babe… it still."

"Seeing it will make it real?" Mac asked

"Yeah." Jordan said with a sigh. Suddenly tears fell down her face, Mac hugged her to her.

"I'm sorry Auntie, I wish I could help you… I wish I could help myself."

"I know princess… I just miss him so much." She sobbed.

"You know if he saw you crying like this he would kick your ass." Mac joked, Jordan let out a bitter little chuckle.

"Watch your language." She said after a long stint of silence, a vain attempt at discipline for Mac, who just smiled.

"Go to sleep aunt, its late and we're going to the cape tomorrow." With that Mac sat up and wiped Jordan's tears, with that she went back to bed, turning off the light as she left.

Imagine that. Jordan thought to herself, a twelve year old, wiping away my tears. She stood, shaking herself, and realized she was tired, so she walked to her bed, in complete silence. But she stopped at her dresser, where a picture sat illuminated by the light, it was the one of the entire group of them, at Bug's birthday party, the one she had found in Devan's desk. She gave the picture a lopsided smile and moved on, laying down on her bed, she rolled over and let out a deep, shuttering sigh. She had to wonder why she couldn't have been the one to die, Mac had to pick her up so many times, she wondered if it would have been easier if she was the one to die. It was no use, she curled herself tighter in her bed and cried, all she wanted was to find answers for so long, now she had them, and she hated herself to boot. Finally she fell into a dreamless sleep, with tearstains on her cheek. But little did she know the girl standing in her doorway, her long black hair looking like velvet around her shoulders. Her eyelids shut tight, praying that they all got the answers that they needed to move forward, because, she feared, the family she had gained, could fall apart if they didn't.