Disclaimer: Do I look like Scott Peters to you?
A/N: Here is my take on how I think (more hope) people will react to Jordan's resurrection. Don't forget to review!
This fic is dedicated to Kaiyote, a token of my appreciation.
The haggard looking man stood staring mystified at the city a long ways off. The sun was setting behind the tall buildings, making the sky a pinkish-orange shade.
The man stood there for hours staring, his long mane and hair wafting in the late afternoon breeze.
"How did I get here?" he whispered into the evening air, his voice raspier than usual.
His head finally cleared a little at the sound of the gentle rolling waves behind him. He glanced backwards to the sound and immediately recognized the lake behind him. It was the lake that the 4400 were returned in, Highland Beach.
At the thought of the 4400, masses of memories flooded back into his mind.
The center, the Gala, Isabelle, Lily, experiments, threats, lawyers, NTAC, Shawn-. The overflow of thoughts stopped abruptly. Shawn. He remembered vividly the young man sobbing, fighting, and then he was here.
He thought hard on the memory. He remembered him hurting badly, physically and mentally. It hurt him to see Shawn crying. He didn't like seeing him in so much pain. He cared for Shawn. What made him crumble into tears?
The man was snapped from his study by a cold feeling at his feet. He looked down to the sight of the waves immersing his feet in the waters. High tide.
He started walking slowly towards the city in the distance. The sand crunching beneath his bare feet, he finally arrived at the sidewalk. He placed a foot on the sidewalk and found the pavement quite cool. He started walking at the same slow pace again on the narrow boardwalk, all the while thinking about his last memory of Shawn.
X
People gave him fleeting looks as he walked slowly on the sidewalk. None of them stared long for fear that the daunting man might attack them.
The man arrived at a certain street and strained his eyes to look further into the now late evening sky. He found the building he was looking for in the darkness and continued on his way.
He reached his destination and sighed at the building. Hopefully he could get his facts straight now. He walked wearily towards the doors of the nicely lit center.
The man entered through a large glass door, finding himself in the middle of some sort of celebration. There were guests in the lobby and loud music blaring in the background. He was passed unnoticed by a waiter with a large tray carrying various foods. What was going on in his center? He didn't remember planning this sort of party.
He looked up at the stairwell and noticed a large banner taking up a majority of the railing's space. The banner read, "The 4400 Center Presents: 'The Freedom from Quarantine Celebration.'"
He walked further into the nice hall, bumping into a young lady in a light blue-collared blouse. He recognized the girl as the first key he hired after the 'Devon incident'.
"Hello, Sir, welcome to the celebration," She said, smiling brightly. She gave an uneasy look at the man's current appearance before looking at him squarely in the eye.
She stared for a moment at his face, the first key's face paled,her smile slowly fell into a gaping 'oh', and herexpression took on a look of utter shock. He stared at her tentatively; maybe hiring her wasn't the best idea.
"Clarissa, are you alright?" he said uncertainly.
She broke from her daze.
"Oh my God, it-it's Jordan Collier," She said in astonishment. She fell forward dramatically into the arms of Jordan. He caught her quickly, letting out a huffof surprise from the weight.He thencarefully laid her on the marble floor, trying to see if she was all right.
He stood and saw people looking up in surprise at the mention of his name. The music stopped suddenly as people started noticing the worn looking man beside the unconscious girl.
The air was filled with emotions, shock, astonishment, surprise. Everybody was slowly realizing that the once dead billionaire was actually alive. The room was completely silent though there must have been two hundred people in the building. The feeling was very surreal.
Finally, a commotion broke out. People fainted, others yelled, the man just couldn't grasp what the big deal was. He was rich; you're supposed to see him a lot. Sure, he did know that his present appearance was a bit odd, but he didn't expect people to collapse.
People he recognized started running toward him, touching him as if to make sure he was real. A few were 4400s, some students. The security finally found their nerve and started blocking off Collier with their padded shields.
A resounding whistle was heard from above and everyone looked up to the stairwell. A superior looking man looked down, wide-eyed, at Jordan, waving him over. People went back to trying to talk or touch Jordan at the sight of this.
A strong bodyguard escorted Jordan at a rushed pace up to the man Collier recognized as Matthew Ross, one of his best men. What was he doing in Seattle?
Matthew seized hold of Jordan's tricep and led him hastily toward his office.
Upon arriving inside the office, more memories came back to him. His chair, the papers, and smell, it was almost overwhelming. Matthew snapped him out of his reflection by offering him a seat.
Jordan contemplated this, why would he offer him a seat in his office? He pushed the irksome thought out of his mind and took the suggestion.
He sat in the cushioned white seat staring calmly and expectantly at Matthew. Seated behind Jordan's desk, Ross stared still slightly disbelievingly at him. He leaned forward over the desk and spoke:
"Jordan, do you know what happened?"
"No, Matthew, I'm afraid I don't know what 'what' is," Jordan answered evenly.
"You died, Jordan," Ross said bluntly.
The information sunk slowly into the tired looking man. His eyes widened before going back to their normal size again.
"Then how, pray tell, am I sitting here, breathing?" Jordan asked pointedly.
"That's the thing, we don't know," Ross said, getting riled up a bit. "You were shot, you were dead, and you had a huge funeral for crying out loud!"
Jordan stared fixedly at Ross. He was shot? How? When? The news was taking its toll on the already-exhausted man.
"I don't remember that," he said quietly.
"Well, it happened, believe me," Matthew said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "How else can you explain the uproar downstairs at the sight of you?"
Jordan shook his head, he couldn't believe it. So, he had risen from the dead? The thought made him shudder slightly.
"I really don't know what's going on," Ross exclaimed, shaking his head, chuckling a little. "But I do know that this is going to be world-wide news. Being resurrected from the dead, it's outrageous!"
There was a silence.
"Who did it?" Jordan asked finally.
"They caught a suspect, but, truthfully, we're really not sure…" Matthew told him with a sigh. "He had a sniper and shot you from the building to our right."
Jordan clung to every word of Matthew's. He wanted to know so much, but nobody really had much knowledge of the incident in the first place.
He sighed exhaustively.
"Maybe you should get cleaned up, Jordan," Ross suggested. "I can send one of the most trusted stylist to get you cleaned up."
Collier looked up from his tattered clothes and smiled.
"Sure."
X
Collier walked out of the bathroom cleaned, shaven to his usual thick goatee, and changed into new clothes. He breathed refreshingly in the hair-supply free air, as opposed to the atmosphere in the stylist's mini-salon.
He walked revitalized back to his old suite.
Letting a draft of cool air out, Jordan entered the room through the heavy metal door and closed it with a click. He turned on the light and then walked into the small kitchen.
He looked inside the mini-fridge and pulled out a salad pack. He started eating it, all the while thinking about his 'death.'
After he was done eating, he went into the living room to try to catch up on some of the current events on television.
He settled himself on his comfortable couch and turned on the TV with a low volume. He was halfway through a news report when he noticed movement going on at the right side of the room. It surprised him at first, but he gained composure quickly and crept slowly toward the couch.
As he neared the couch, he noticed a large amount of blankets and pillows on the floor. He arrived at the couch to find just a huge pile of blankets. Jordan was still suspicious and started to carefully peel the many blankets off the couch.
When Jordan got to the last blanket, he spotted bits of light brown sticking out from it. He took it off and gasped faintly. It was Shawn.
Shawn looked very pale to Jordan and it wasn't because of the dim lighting. The young man looked very fitful in his sleep. He cringed and mumbled a few times as Jordan watched him. Jordan turned on a light a few feet away and brought a big chair close to Shawn's makeshift bed, trying to get a better look at his protégé.
The young man looked tired; under his eyes were dark circles against his pale complexion. Jordan pulled up the covers on the young man as he shivered from the cool air. His shivering stopped only a little at that action.
Jordan stared worriedly at the young man before him. What had happened? Shawn must have been under a lot of stress to have gotten this ill. Maybe giving him the job of 4400 center president was a bad idea.
Jordan pressed the back of his hand to Shawn's forehead. He was quite warm, but it wasn't anythingextremely serious, yet. Shawn stirred bringing Jordan from his thoughts back to reality.
He opened his eyes slightly, trying to make out the blurry dark figure above him. He groaned from trying to focus and buried his head into his pillow. He tried once more and found the indistinct form of Jordan Collier staring anxiously at him.
"Jordan?" Shawn mumbled so quietly Jordan had to lean in to hear.
"Shawn," Jordan said in his raspy quiet voice.
"I miss you," Shawn mumbled blearily, closing his eyes, falling back into another fitful sleep.
Jordan's eyes brimmed with tears. He caressed Shawn's cheek and smiled.
He sat there staring at Shawn until he dozed off into sleep.
X
Shawn woke to the smell of food in the air. His stomach grumbled from lack of food. The people had brought him some soup but unfortunately he was too weak, cold, and depressed to eat it.
The smell he recognized as bacon woke him up considerably. Matthew had given him the strict diet of only liquids and soup until he was better; he planned on thanking the person who made him change his mind.
He nestled into the pillow then opened his eyes to the white ceiling, thinking about the dream he had had before. It was the best dream he had had since the incident. It felt so real, like he had really opened his eyes to Jordan, his mentor, his role model, his dad.
Tears welled up in Shawn's eyes, falling on the edge of his face before finally wetting his pillow. He wanted it to be real; he wanted it to be so badly. Shawn wanted Jordan back above anything else in the world. He cried and cried, food at a loss to him again.
"What are all the tears for?" a quiet voice said from the side of him.
That voice. Shawn averted his eyes sideways from the ceiling and almost had a heart attack right there. Standing in all his glory, was Shawn's wildest dream, Jordan.Shawn gaped at the man in front of him.
He tried to sit up to get a better look than the sideways one he was using, but he didn't have the strength. The afternoon's session with Kyle flashed in his head, he could barely breathe let alone walk after that 'healing,' but then his thoughts quickly went back to the man he had always been yearning to come back for so long.
"H-how?" Shawn said, a look of total shock spread across his face.
"I don't know," Jordan answered, stepping closer. Shawn flinched at the movement. How could this be Jordan, he died…
"You're not real," Shawn said, breathing hard. "You died; I mourned for you for almost a year! We had a funeral! You're dead! You're dead!"
Jordan crept closer.
"Shawn, calm down," Jordan said, trying quiet the younger man.Hischargewas in such a fragile state, body and mind.
"G-go away, stop this!" Shawn yelled loudly, unshed tears falling. "Don't you think I've been through enough? Matthew, I didn't agree to this experiment, get me out!"
Jordan couldn't take it anymore. He abandoned his slow creep towards Shawn and rushed over to his side. Jordan looked down at the young man, who was still resting his head on the pillow, now closing his eyes tightly.
"This isn't real; Jordan can't be alive. I'm back in my office; I'm back in my office…" Shawn kept chanting the phrase over again, trying to block out the said 'illusion.'
"Shawn, this isn't an experiment, you have to believe me," Jordan pleaded softly. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to damage Shawn permanantly by doing anything drastic. The man rested a hand on Shawn's sweating forehead. The younger man's eyes snapped open at the action.
Shawn stared up into the soft eyes of Jordan. The look on his face felt so genuine and caring. Nobody ever stared at him that way except for the man before him.
The young man shakily reached out and touched Jordan's cheek. Collier held the hand there, as to not fatigue Shawn anymore.
"I thought it was just a dream," Shawn whispered, he screwed his face up trying hard not to cry anymore, but it was no use. The tears spilled off the sides of Shawn's eyes, wetting the pillows, as he was still lying down.
Jordan helped the trembling, young man sit up and gave him a tissue box that was lying on the floor. Shawn gradually grabbed a few and blew into the white, soft texture. It didn't help though, Shawn just kept bawling more and more every time he even looked up at Jordan.
Shawn cried silently now, trying to gain some composure, grasping tightly with both hands to Jordan's one. He had to make sure it was real. He didn't want it to be another dream. The thought of it made him clutch the hand tighter.
"I'm sorry," he said through the tears.
Jordan gave him a confused look. What did Shawn do? He was the one that left him.
"What for?"
The dark chocolate eyes met the deep brown ones.
"You left me with th-the center and I-I only…" He closed his eyes and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. "I screwed it up!" he finished the last part with his voice cracking.
The young man made a pained look before averting his eyes downward, dropping more tears in his lap. Jordan looked down at him, tears starting to brim in his eyes. He hated seeing Shawn cry, it hurt him so bad on the inside. The young man had Jordan's hand in a painful grip, but Collier didn't notice. The biggest pain he had right now was the one within him, in his heart.
"Don't be sorry, Shawn," Jordan whispered. "Please don't be sorry. It wasn't your time to take on all that work. I left you and I am so sorry."
The tears rolled down Jordan's cheeks now, gradually wetting his beard, as he stared into the young man's eyes. Jordan embraced Shawn, letting his head rest into his shoulder. He could feel the tears seeping through his shirt, but hugged the young man closer.
"I missed you, Shawn, I missed you so much," Jordan said quietly. "I promise to never leave you again."
Shawn mumbled something incoherent to Jordan, making the older man smile.
"I love you too."
A/N: Well, that's my story. I am actually thinking of making another chapter, or at least another story that continues this one, but I'm not entirely sure if I could/should. I need some feedback though. No, sadly I don't have the power to read minds, so you'll have to press the magical button down there, and tell me what you think! Thank you so much.
Have a nice day,
-Sarah