A/N: HOPE YOU'RE ALL ENJOYING THIS STORY, PLEASE R&R. I DON'T HAVE MUCH MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE, SO BE KIND. AGAIN, I DON'T OWN THEM, BUT I WISH I DID.

CHAPTER 4: THE TEST

Jordan was not prepared for what she saw when she entered the ICU. She remembered the day before when she saw Woody, a few hours after his first surgery. He was sitting up, talking to her, telling her to leave; and she did.

Why did I leave? Why didn't I fight for him? She wondered. Now it's his turn to fight, but would he, or would he just give up…..on himself, on us, on life?

Jordan remembered the look on his face yesterday, when he told her to get out. There was no light left in his eyes...maybe the fight was already gone. That thought scared her more than anything; the thought of losing him.

As she slowly walked in, she noticed, he was lying flat with a bunch of machines doing the work for his worn out body. The only movement was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, thanks to the breathing machine. The doctors would keep him heavily sedated for the next 24 hours, at least, so his body could rest.

With a heavy sigh, Jordan lovingly took Woody's hand in hers and kissed it. She sat there for a while, just watching him, thankful he was still alive. And then she spoke; "Hey Woody, I know you probably don't want me here, but I need you; I need to be with you."

"You need to stay strong, to keep fighting." She felt the tears and couldn't continue. It was then Jordan realized that no matter what, she would always love him. There was no pity in what she had said, only love, and she had really meant every word. "You had every right to be angry with me yesterday, you were just shot," she continued, as she rubbed his hand. "It's okay Woody, I know you're sacred, so am I, but just remember, you're not alone."

Then Jordan thought, Maybe this is a test, a test for both of us. Was this test, or whatever this was, going to bring us together, or will it tear us apart?

Jordan couldn't think of that right now, all that mattered was his survival. All of her problems seemed so insignificant; her mothers unresolved murder, her strained relationship with her father, Garret withholding evidence and his suspension. None of that mattered right now, only Woody. A soft knock brought her back to reality. Jordan turned to see the doctor standing in the doorway, chart in hand. He looked right into her eyes, and without hesitating, said, "Dr. Cavanaugh, we need to talk."