Ok y'all, here we go with the much anticipated update in celebration of the school year being over. Sorry it took soooo long…eek! Busy busy life. As always, questions, comments, and criticisms are welcome.

Jordan rubbed at her eyes as she sat in her SUV waiting for the light to turn green. She had not slept well at all in the hospital. Dreams where she was lost in a thick fog took control of her mind for most of the night. Strange voices always called out to her in far away, silvery wisps. She kept thinking that she was getting closer to finding the person who was calling to her, but when she would turn to see them there was nothing but the grey mist all around her. When she had woken in the morning, it felt like she had run a marathon. And then her problems started all over again. She could remember why she was in the hospital, and that she was going to go home as soon as they had checked her out again. However, she had to be reintroduced to Woody for a second time. It had taken nearly an hour before she could recall the events of the previous evening and the arrangements that had been made. Even though the doctors told her this kind of thing happened to amnesia patients, it was still frustrating and upsetting.

She had felt immensely guilty about forgetting who Woody was – someone they told her was an old friend, a close friend. Jordan decided that she would make every effort not to forget again. For one thing, it was embarrassing and she did not like being that insecure. For another, she had noted the look in his eyes when it was clear she did not know him. His face fell ever so slightly and she saw the pity enter his eyes. His was one of those faces that did not hide much. He wore his emotions right there for everyone to see. Or maybe he was afraid. After all, she was supposed to be taking care of him and she couldn't even remember who he was after a miserable night's sleep. If it was fear, he did a good job of convincing her things would be okay once they got out of the hospital.

Woody was certainly brave, Jordan had assessed that much. The doctors told her he had been shot, though they didn't reveal any specifics. His surgery had gone extremely well, and it was only a matter of getting used to his legs again. Jordan felt somehow proud when she watched him stand up and walk, however gingerly, to his wheelchair. It was confusing to feel these bursts of emotion for someone and not knowing why she had reason to feel that way. She could only assume that they were the right things to feel.

"You ok?"

Woody's voice brought her back to reality. She took her hands away from her eyes and put them back on the steering wheel.

"Yeah," she replied, giving him a small smile. "Just tired."

Woody looked over at her and noted the dark circles under her eyes. And yet, she still had this wide eyed look of uncertainty, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Sleeping in a hospital can wear on you," he said without emotion. The light finally turned green and Jordan turned her gaze back to the road as she pressed on the gas.

"How long were you in there?" she asked.

"You make it sound like a prison sentence," Woody deadpanned, and he was rewarded with a smirk from her. "Two weeks," he added with a sigh, "But it may as well've been months."

Jordan grimaced in empathy. She let silence settle for a few moments as she drove along before asking more. Tightening her grip on the wheel, she asked, "So what happened?"

Woody looked at her, a little surprised. He didn't know how much to tell her this soon in the game. He doubted that she would be able to handle the emotional side of the story. Better play it safe and keep to the facts.

"We were looking for a sniper," he began mechanically, as though he had told this story a million times in the last two weeks. "He was…after cops. They got their hands on Kevlar penetrating ammunition. We finally got them into a showdown, and nabbed one of the kids, but…" his voice started to get heavy when he began to recall the events. Somehow, it became more than just a recitation of facts when he told Jordan.

She glanced over at him, concerned. "You don't have to…"

"It's ok," he said firmly. "Long story short, we chased the second kid into this building, and I tried to play the hero by talking him out of what he was doing." He stopped, his jaw set solidly. Jordan could tell he was beating himself up inside for whatever it was he had done that day. After nearly a minute, he finished quietly. "I guess I'm not as good at that as I thought."

Jordan slowed the car to a stop and reached out hesitantly, placing her hand gently on his arm. She could not even begin to imagine what he had been through. The terror he must have felt while he stared down the barrel of an empty gun. She wished she knew how to comfort him, but she was still so unsure of how to be with him.

"You tried, Woody," she said softly. "You did the best you could, no one could have asked for more. Some people just can't be saved, no matter how hard you try."

You have no idea, he thought bitterly. He felt his eyes start to well up, and in an effort to hide his emotions he leaned his face into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. Almost immediately he regretted this move. He felt Jordan put her hand comfortingly on his back, soothing away the tension he had built up. For a moment, he felt himself slipping back into old habits, enjoying her touch more than he should. Then he realized that this woman sitting next to him wasn't the old Jordan. She had no idea what she was doing, no idea how close this gesture was to the teasing he had endured before. Once the real Jordan came back to him, she would pull away just as she had done a million times before.

Woody sat up abruptly and ran his hands through his hair, agitated. Jordan swiftly pulled her hand back, somewhat embarrassed. She felt like she had crossed a line somewhere. Not sure what to do, she opened her mouth to apologize but was cut off by him.

"You got here without directions?" he asked with surprise.

Jordan leaned down a bit and looked up towards her apartment through the windshield.

"Yeah. I knew exactly where it was. Pretty weird, huh?" She was glad to have seemed to avoid an awkward moment with him, for the time being. After a moment of silence she glanced at his face, still turned slightly away from her. She saw a great deal of pain in those blue eyes, far more than he probably ever intended to let show. She furrowed her brow a little. What was he hiding behind those eyes? "Come on, detective, let's get you settled."

Walking into her apartment was a very strange experience. It was like stepping into a painting; one she had seen a thousand times and knew by heart. She knew precisely how it was supposed to look. There were simply no emotions attached to anything she saw. She knew there were certain objects she liked more than others, but she had no idea why. Jordan was also acutely aware of Woody watching her as they walked through the door, waiting for any sign of recognition in her face. She put the two suitcases of Woody's down that she had carried up and made her way to the middle of the room. Turning a circle, she put her hands in her pockets and took everything in. She stopped when she faced him again and shrugged sheepishly.

"I know it," she said. "But it feels like…a picture. Like a blueprint that was programmed into my mind. God, I sound like a robot!" She said it with a laugh, but Woody could see she was upset. He shifted uneasily against his walking canes, debating what to say. As usual, Jordan recovered her composure first. "Well. Are you sure you're up to staying with me? I might go nuts on you, ya know."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Woody said with a small smile as he made his way to couch. "I told you before, Jo, if I can make it for two weeks in a hospital, I can spend a little time in someone else's place. Besides, you need to be here right now." He stopped when he noticed a smile play across her lips. "What?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said wistfully. "When you called me Jo, I just…it felt familiar."

When she looked at him then, Woody saw how grateful she was that he was there. He had the distinct impression that she was beginning to feel safe around him. Having lost every relationship she had ever known, she was laying all her trust in him. Or had she always trusted him fully, and it was only now that she was able to show it? It frightened him not for the first time that the Jordan he was with was completely stripped of her defenses. It was the first time she had ever had to rely on him so earnestly. He decided shutting her out was not an option this time around.

"Hey, you must still be pretty exhausted from all this," Jordan spoke suddenly, breaking her gaze away. She tugged absently at her jacket edges as she decided to move the suitcases to her room. "D'you want to rest for a while? I'll get everything in my room all straightened out."

"Whoa, Jordan," Woody did his best to hurry after her as she tried to scuttle out of the room. Well, almost no defenses, he conceded to himself. "First of all, I just spent two weeks lying in a hospital bed, when I wasn't in physical therapy. The last thing I want to do is lie down. Second, you are not giving up your room."

"Woody, you can take my room. There is no way I am letting you sleep anywhere else in your condition."

"I'm warnin' you Jordan, if you start treatin' me special, I will give you a good kick in the rear, I don't care what condition I'm in," Woody said firmly, his down home accent slipping into his words as he defended himself against her pity. The moment he finished, he realized he had probably been too confrontational, given that she could not remember the event that he was getting upset about. He should have known better than to think she would act wounded.

"Listen farm boy," she said as she dropped the suitcases, "you aren't out of the woods yet, but don't you think I'm giving you any special treatment beyond what is medically required. You're going to have to grow up and realize that you – need – help right now. Unless you'd like to fend for yourself. I don't know about you, but I would prefer the help. It's not a pity party yet, Hoyt." Jordan grew quiet and looked as though she had half shocked herself with the words. She crossed her arms self consciously over her chest. As an afterthought, she added, "Besides, the couch is a hide-a-bed. I'll be fine."

Inside, she felt like she had just crashed through a waterfall. When Woody had snapped at her, she suddenly felt as though her mind had been pushed into chaos. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could even think twice about them. Here she was, yelling at a complete stranger, practically, and these emotions and thoughts just burst forth of their own right. And the second she finished, she was on the other side of the waterfall looking back and thinking, 'What was that?' But what worried her most was the way Woody was looking at her. She must have said something that rang true. He was staring at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Great, I totally pissed him off.

Then he did something she was not expecting. He leaned his canes against the wall and walked slowly towards her, stopping less than a foot away. Gently, he brought his hands up and placed them on the sides of her face, looking intently into her eyes. She felt frozen under his gaze, finding herself once again unsure of her place in his world.

"You're still in there, aren't you?" he whispered.

Jordan was taken aback. It dawned on her that she had neglected to see that not everyone would feel it was her in this body. She still felt like herself, just altered. It hadn't even occurred to her that she would appear so incredibly different to those around her. Almost like a whole other person. Woody was afraid he had lost the Jordan he knew forever. And it scared Jordan to think that she might have lost herself. Not wanting to worry him with her fears, she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Of course I'm still here," she reassured him. "Just on a little soul searching at the moment."

"I just didn't realize things would come to your mind that quickly," he explained as he dropped his hands to her arms. At the blank stare she gave him, it clicked that she had no idea what she said to him had meant anything at all. "You called me farm boy. You used to call me that all the time when we first started working together." Woody crossed his arms and gave her an amused look. "Somehow you got it into your head that because I was from Wisconsin, I was automatically raised in a barn."

"Hm," Jordan's lips quirked in a thoughtful smile. "Interesting. I might just have to rely on that in case I forget your name again."

"Oh please don't," Woody groaned. "I finally just got you to stop using that name."

"We'll see," Jordan laughed, feeling comfortable for once that day. She sighed and surveyed the room again. "Well, farm boy, it seems we have three options for this evening. One: crash early, two: explain my life to me, which I am so not in the mood for, by the way, or three: make it movie night."

"After two weeks of nothing but bed rest and emotional turmoil, I gotta tell ya, I'm in the mood for a movie."

"Movie it is then."

"What've you got?" Woody asked as he walked gingerly to the couch.

"I do happen to remember that I own the Lord of the Rings trilogy…that, I am going to need explained."

"You…are an angel of mercy."

Jordan fell into bed that night feeling much better, if not totally reassured about her condition. The world still felt empty to her, but her evening with Woody had given her hope that she would recover soon. Her easy rapport with him convinced her that she could look forward to the memories that would return. She hoped they would be happy. Her co-workers' objections still lingered in her mind. On the bright side, she thought, you can remember that you have co-workers.

Events of the day filled her mind as she drifted off to sleep. It wasn't long before she found herself lost in the fog once again. Voices called out to her, seemingly just out of reach. One voice began to rise above the others, calling her name. She turned about, trying to find the edge of the mist. Suddenly, the fog grew heavier and heavier, and seconds later she was surrounded by water. Jordan thrashed, not knowing which way was up. Her lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen.

Finally, she caught a glimpse of the sun pouring into the water. Hurtling her way towards it, she felt almost insanely desirous of air. Just before she broke the surface, a vision appeared before her: a woman lying dead, her blood pooling around her. Jordan recoiled in shock, her lungs bursting inside of her.

Jordan flew up in bed, gasping for breath. She clutched the sheets at her sides and felt the cold sweat slipping down her skin. After she had regained control of her breathing, she lifted a shaking hand to her brow to brush away the hair clinging to her forehead.

"Ok…ok," she whispered to herself. "What did they say to do? Recite, umm, recite names." She placed her hand on her chest, willing her heart to stop racing, willing the feeling of desolation to leave. "Ok…Nigel, Lily, Bug…shit…farm boy – Woody…oh, God, please help me."