A.N. I've tried to tone down Jordan's crying a bit, but I still think she would eventually become emotional about this whole ordeal. This is a bit longer chapter, but hopefully the next few will be uploaded soon. As always, read and review because the reviews give me the inspiration to keep going.

Cry Another Day

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

Garret stepped out of the elevator and spun Jordan around.

"Get back in there right now Jordan."

"Garret, stay out of it," she brushed right past him, riding the elevator down to the lobby and to the nearest bar where she drank herself into a stupor.

After his hour long visit with Woody, Garret was on his way to find Jordan. She was not sitting at the bar right outside the hospital, but something told him that she was there.

"Jordan! You in there?" he called from outside what appeared to be the restroom door at the bar.

No answer.

"Jo, I'm coming in," he slowly opened the door, revealing, not a washroom, but an alley, dingy and dank.

"Garret?" a weak voice came from behind some trash cans.

"Jordan! Are you okay?" he quickly brushed away the trash cans with his feet and knelt down to her, "What happened?"

Jordan lay on the ground, obviously drunk beyond control, and severely bruised.

"I, I, I, I was attacked."
"Were you raped?" Garret asked in a panic.

Her eyes glazed over, "No, I…and then…" she said between breaths, "He tried to but I…I fought back…he had a knife. He cut me."

She looked feebly down to where her shirt was horribly torn, exposing a pink bra stained crimson, leading from a coagulated river of blood. She put a hand to the blood in shock.

"He slashed me."

Garret looked down in horror, "I'm calling an ambulance Jordan. Geeze, how did this happen?"

Her face was blank and absent as she attempted to open her mouth to explain. She was as helpless as when Digger had buried her alive.

"I have to go," she hurriedly got up, being wary of her slashed breasts.

"Jordan! You need to get…" he shouted, realizing the futility of what he was saying, "checked out."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran to the elevator, riding it up to the ICU and stumbling into Woody's room. His sleepy figure only drew out more painful emotions as she collapsed her head into her hands. Her balance fumbled as she tried to move over to his bedside. Wires, trays, samples, it was a haunted house maze that she could not escape in her drunkenness. Stumbling over her feet, Jordan caught herself on the sample tray which held jars of freshly obtained specimen. With a crash, it was all over the ground next to her, one of the containers spilled open. As it seeped up her pants and over her shirt, soaking them in the sticky substance, her cries became more evident, calling attention from the nurses' station.

"Mr. Hoyt, are you okay?" one of the nurses could be heard clamoring down the hall. As she turned into his room, she stopped suddenly, "Miss Cavanaugh! What happened?"

Jordan reluctantly pulled herself up, "I…I fell. I'm sorry."

The nurse looked at her in horror, "You're cut! Oh my gosh! Let me get you some clean scrubs and sutures. Oh you poor thing."

Jordan cast a guilty glance at Woody's bed where his eyes stared blankly at her, blue and void of any emotions. He almost seemed upset that she had interrupted his sleep, caring little about the slash mark across her exposed breast.

She shuffled out of the room with a sigh, "Sorry" which came out more as a question than anything.

The nurse handed her a folded pair of blue scrubs, "Miss Cavanaugh, you really shouldn't disturb him so."

Jordan weakly accepted the scrubs, wincing at the southern accented hostility, "Ummm," she ran a free hand through her hair, "It's Dr. Cavanaugh."

"Oh, well, then you should know better."

Jordan shrugged it off and went into the public restroom to changer her clothes. She emerged in the unflattering scrubs, eyes tear stained but resolute. Still in a daze, she stared blankly at the sterile walls of the exam room as she was sutured. Her vehement protests were the only reason she was allowed to wander around the hospital after getting stitched up, but it was not without warning to not upset either herself or Mr. Hoyt. At this, Jordan scoffed before getting up and wandering to his room.

"Hey," she said weekly from the doorframe of Woody's hospital room.

He rolled his head towards her, "What happened?"

"Uh, you know, drunken stumble. I'm sorry for spilling that um, whatever it was."

"It's alright," he grinned slightly, "It's one of the more enjoyable tests."

Catching the comfortable tone of the room and his voice, she let out a trademark, "Oh," with one side of her mouth curved open. "Whoa, is that what that was? Wow, this is awkward." She paused, "Never thought it would happen like this."

He groaned, "I distinctly recall telling you to leave and never come back."

"I'm not leaving."

"Jordan!" Garret shouted with mixed relief and anger, "You need to get checked out by a doctor."

Woody looked confused.

"I'm fine Garret," Jordan hissed, "It's been taken care of."

"You were raped!" he shouted empathetically, "They need to do a rape kit."

Eyes cold as stone, Jordan stared at him, "I was not raped."

"He made two very deep cuts into your…your," he stared at her hoping she would catch his drift, "What do you call that?"

"He only tried…I fought back."

Woody stared earnestly at Jordan, "Someone tried to rape you?"

"No." "Yes." Jordan and Garret said in unison.

"That's why your shirt was ripped," he stated in amazement. "Are you okay?"

"Shaken up, drunk, bloody, but I'm alright for the most part," she said with complete sincerity as she ran a hand through her messy brown tresses.

"Good."

"Jordan you need that cut taken…" Garret started.

"It's been sutured Garret. I'm not stupid! I'll be out in a second. Just give me a moment."

He quietly left Jordan and Woody alone in the room.

"I'm sorry Wood, so sorry for leaving. I wanted to stay but…you needed time. I needed a drink…or a drunken spell…or something."

"Don't be sorry. Just go talk to Garret."

"Ill be back."

"NO, Jordan, it's better if we just…if you…friends or something, nothing more."

"I'll be back" she repeated and then closed the door.

Down in the ER, Garret was explaining to the police how he found Jordan as one of the doctors did as much of a rape kit as she would allow.

"You're lucky. This guy didn't win," Dr. Roku said.

"Some luck," Jordan mumbled as she fiddled with a stray strand of hair.