When Jordan saw Woody the next morning, he looked as though he wanted to fix everything that had gone wrong. Before he could say anything, she begged him not to talk about it. She didn't want to have to deal with it just yet. She needed time to wrap her mind around the jumble of memories that were pushing their way back. She assured him that she knew he only wanted things to go back to normal. The problem was, she still didn't know what normal was.

The next four days passed very much in the same fashion as the first. Jordan helped Woody with his physical therapy, and then the two of them would head over to the morgue. Woody was thankful that she didn't completely give up on him. But he missed the fire that had been in her eyes before. He no longer saw the desire to overcome her situation; to make him overcome his situation. Now, she just looked haunted. She wouldn't tell him about her dreams anymore, or what else she may have recalled from her past. When he asked, she told him it didn't matter. All he could do was keep trying, hoping he could get through to her.

By the time they would arrive at the morgue in the late afternoon, Slocum was usually too stressed out with the drowning cases to care if Jordan sat in on the work. Or, he was already gone for the evening, leaving everyone else to pick up the slack. As long as they wore the visitor stickers, he just ignored their presence. Within three days, the police had found enough evidence to arrest a man who was known for working under Martin Gomez. While Gomez himself was not yet linked to the earlier murders, this arrest in addition to the hair found on the latest victim was enough to prompt an intensified search for him.

Woody tended to stay out of the way while he was in the morgue, opting to talk with any of the officers on the case when they came in. He found it was a good distraction while Jordan busied herself with helping out on autopsies. Aside from a moment when Lily had thanked him for being honest with Jordan, he had chosen to keep a low profile. At the moment, he was sitting in an empty conference room, staring out the window at the city below. He was managing to make it around with only a cane now, thanks largely to Jordan's help with his therapy. Even in her emotional withdrawal, she still remained vigilant about making sure he was all right.

"You've been looking better the last few days," Lily's voice startled him out of his reverie.

"Yeah, well," he muttered half heartedly. Lily walked over and leaned against the wall opposite him.

"You don't have to hide out all the time, you know," she joked.

"As I recall, someone around here threatened me with the promise of a body bag for a home recently," he replied sarcastically. "That's not much incentive to be social."

Lily grimaced slightly and looked down at her shoes.

"Yeah, sorry about that," she apologized. "It's just that none of us wanted to see Jordan more hurt than she already was."

"You should have seen her when I told her about us," Woody sighed. Lily looked up at his face, concerned at his misery. "You had every right to be angry, Lily. All of you did. I was a complete bastard. But you have to understand -"

"I do, Woody. I do understand. Despite my recent demotion to coffee runner and desk clerk," Lily smirked, "I am still first and foremost a grief counselor. And you two have gone through some heavy grief in the last few weeks."

Lily placed a comforting hand on his arm and smiled up at him. Woody knew he had been forgiven. At least by them. He was silent for a minute before he spoke again, his voice betraying the anguish he was trying to conceal.

"She won't talk to me."

"Oh, Woody," Lily said soothingly. "Just give her time. She's probably scared out of her mind right now."

"She talked to me in the beginning," he argued. "I told her I was sorry, I don't know what else I can do to get her to try again. She's giving up."

"Woody, remembering what other people have done is only part of what she's going through. She also has to deal with her own actions. It's not pleasant for anyone in a normal state of mind to own up to their mistakes. How do you think she feels right now?"

"I just…wish she would trust me again," he finished quietly. Lily heard the doubt in his voice.

"You did the right thing, Woody. Don't ever question that," Lily told him.

After a moment, Woody pushed away from the wall and took hold of the cane. His vision went slightly blurry for a few seconds and he reached out for a chair to steady himself. Lily grabbed his arm, holding onto him as he regained his balance.

"Are you ok?" she asked worriedly.

"I think so," he answered. Reaching up to rub at his eyes, he was surprised to feel the skin on his face moist with perspiration. He looked at his fingers as he pulled his hand away. Lily noticed it too and placed a hand on his forehead. As she did so, she was shocked to see that his skin had paled significantly in the last few minutes.

"You're warm," she said seriously.

Just then, they heard the door open and Jordan walked in, confused by the severe looks on their faces.

"I've been looking for you," she said to Woody. Then she noticed the sickly look on his face and hurried over to him. "What's the matter?"

"He has a fever," Lily told her.

Jordan followed Lily's actions and felt Woody's forehead. His skin was nearly burning. Looking into his eyes, she could see that their nervousness was making him anxious. She told herself that she needed to calm down for his sake.

"Have you been feeling ill today?" she questioned him.

"I felt a little achy, but it's not unusual especially with the therapy," he explained to her.

"Lift up your shirt," Jordan instructed him. Woody looked at her, surprised. She rolled her eyes. "I need to check your incisions."

Woody did as he was told. Jordan carefully inspected the front entry wound and could not see anything wrong with it. It seemed to be healing nicely. As she walked around to his back, she swallowed hard. She bent down and gently ran a hand near to wound. At the center, it was severely discolored. The skin around it carried a green tint. The proximity to his spinal chord frightened her.

"It's an infection," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Woody turned to her, the fear evident on his face.

"What! How is that possible? It looked fine this morning," he insisted.

"Sometimes it can develop very rapidly," Jordan said. She looked at Lily. "Call 911, we're going to need an ambulance."

Lily didn't need to be told twice. She dashed out of the room without a word. Jordan pulled a chair over to Woody and made him sit down.

"I don't think an ambulance is really necessary, Jordan," Woody started.

"At the rate at which this developed, yes it is. I can't risk you going into shock in the passenger seat of my car," she said firmly, again feeling the skin of his cheek for any temperature change.

Woody reached up suddenly to grasp her hand, surprising her. He held on tightly and looked up into her eyes, once again warm under his gaze. He looked terrified.

"Please listen to me, Jordan. Believe me. I'm so sorry for what happened."

"Don't start talking like that, you're going to be fine," Jordan faltered.

"Maybe I am. But I don't want to have to go through this alone," Woody implored. Jordan tightened her hand around his.

"You won't."

Jordan paced the waiting room of the OR. She had barely touched the plate of food that Nigel had brought up for her. It had long gone cold over the two hours since Woody had gone into surgery. Nigel sat slumped in a chair nearby, his head resting against the steeple his hands formed. He had seemed unusually upset by this turn of events, insisting on driving with Lily and Jordan over to the hospital. Jordan glanced up at the clock for the millionth time. She told herself it was pointless and that it only succeeded in convincing her that the longer it was taking the worse it probably was.

"I should have been more understanding," Nigel whispered suddenly. Jordan stopped pacing and looked at him. Without looking up, he went on. "We were all so furious at what he had done to you. We used the fact that he had a clear bill of health as an excuse to be hard on him. Our sorrow turned to rage overnight."

"He'll be okay, Nige."

It was all she could think to say. She knew her friends were just trying to protect her. She remembered feeling like she had been shot in the gut herself when Woody had thrown her out. Of course, she had told no one that the event was getting progressively clearer in her mind. Or that it had seemed to trigger other memories; memories that made no sense, but plagued her nonetheless. Watching a man step out of window, knowing he had nowhere to go but down. Seeing who could only be her father packing his suitcase, walking out of her life forever. A myriad of pictures filtered through her mind, but there was one that scared her more than any other: looking down at her own wrist, seeing her blood staining her skin.

Jordan shuddered and subconsciously clasped her wrist close to her body. They both looked up as Lily hurried into the room, carrying a small suitcase and a bag of take out. She put the food on the table and placed the suitcase down next to it.

"Ok, I got you a change of clothes and toiletry things and some other stuff to keep you occupied in case you need it," she told Jordan in a motherly fashion. "And please promise me you're going to eat something."

"I will," Jordan smiled, amused at the insistence of her friend. Nigel stood up and joined them.

"You sure you're going to be okay by yourself, love?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. The last update said things were going well in there. There's no point in you guys staying any longer, especially since you have an early shift tomorrow," Jordan assured them.

"Okay," Lily consented as she gave Jordan a hug. Nigel did the same, planting a kiss on the top of her head. They waved back at her as they rounded the corner towards the elevator.

Jordan let out a shaky breath and decided to investigate the food. She chuckled when she opened the bag and discovered a vegetarian sandwich, some fruit, and a protein smoothie from Lily's favorite natural foods café. Jordan had just taken a bite out of the sandwich when a nurse came out of the OR and headed towards her. Jordan jumped up, eager to know what was happening.

"He's doing just fine, Miss Cavanaugh," the nurse said immediately. "We just brought him out of surgery. It all went smoothly. They caught the infection in time and he's been put on antibiotics. You can follow me to his room."

Jordan was so relieved and eager to see Woody that she nearly left everything out in the waiting room. The nurse obligingly helped her carry her things as she took Jordan to the recovery room. The room was very much like the one where Jordan had first seen Woody after being brought into the ER. He was lying asleep, his head propped up. He looked restful. The nurse quietly closed the door and left Jordan by herself. She had forgotten how peaceful hospitals were at night. The only sounds were the beeping machines next to Woody's bed. He was breathing perfectly on his own.

Slowly, almost shyly, Jordan walked over to his bedside and took a seat in the chair. Staring at him for a long while, she was surprised to find that she felt overwhelmingly calm. She was sure that when this moment came, she would cry and cling to him in happiness, relieved that he was all right. And she was relieved. Yet, she didn't feel the surge of emotion that she had expected.

Jordan reached out and took his hand, holding it gently and for the first time really feeling the warmth that emanated from it. She let her fingers trace the pattern of his hand, committing the sensations to memory. With her other hand, she brushed the stray hair away from his face, allowing her fingers to linger along his brow. She noted his relaxed face, peaceful in a way that she had only seen in her memories. Jordan didn't feel grief or fear. She didn't feel guilt. She didn't feel convulsions of joy, or wracking sobs. She felt…home.