A/N: THANKS AGAIN FOR ALL THE REVIEWS. PLEASE CONTINUE ON MY LITTLE ROLLER COASTER RIDE, I PROMISE A LOT OF UPS, DOWNS, TWISTS, AND TURNS ALONG THE WAY. HOLD ON TIGHT. DON'T OWN 'EM.

CHAPTER 8: MESSAGES

Jordan stayed with Woody all through the weekend. She tried to help where she could, but Woody fought her with fierce resistance. She wanted to keep him from feeling too helpless, but that was not working the way she had hoped.

Woody wasn't able to do much for himself. He was so weak, he still couldn't even feed himself or hold a cup without his hands shaking uncontrollably. The nurses did the majority of the care, but they were very busy, and they had other patients. He needed Jordan and that was something he wasn't able to accept yet.

Jordan understood this. He was a proud, strong, stubborn man who always took care of himself and everyone else. He was still heavily medicated, so he slept most of the time, but it was when he was awake, that she worried about him the most. He was so quiet, so despondent, and usually on the verge of tears. Very un-Woody like.

The only time he spoke to her the entire weekend, besides the yeses and no's of her questions, was after the hospital priest left. He had come to pray with Woody and offer communion. Woody had asked Jordan to call father Paul for him as soon as he was lucid enough. He needed to talk to someone...he needed guidance.

In the last two years or so since their first meeting, Paul and Woody, along with Jordan, had stayed friends. Maybe Paul can help him were I can't, Jordan thought after the request was made.

It was well past eleven when Jordan got home that Sunday night, the first time she had really been home in five days, aside from the daily shower and clothing change. She was grateful that the nurses had let her stay the plast few nights. Of course they were happy for the help the doctor could offer, Jordan's sole purpose for being there was simply to be near Woody.

Jordan changed her clothes, mindlessly munched on a bag of chips and a beer, the only edible things in her apartment, and checked her phone messages. There were over a dozen from the morgue family calling to see how Woody was doing. A few from Detective Carver, one from Detective Santana, and one from Detective Framus. Three messages were from Garret, and one from her father. Even though Max had spent most of the weekend in the hospital waiting room, in case Jordan or Woody needed him, he still felt he need to call and check up on his daughter.

The last message was from someone she was hoping to hear from but didn't think she would.

"Hey Jordan, it's me Cal, um …Nigel tracked me down, he's the only one who knows where I am, and that's how I want it stay, for now. Just tell Woody I'm getting my life together and I'll come to visit as soon as I can. Tell him I lov….tell him I'm thinking about him. Take good care of my big brother Jordan, I'll talk to you later, Bye."

Jordan smiled to herself as she listened to Cal's message. She called Nigel to thank him, but got his machine instead, so she left a short message of her own. She then called her dad to give him her work schedule. Max had decided to stay in town for as long Jordan needed him to, and for that she was grateful. He and Garret would take turns visiting Woody so he wouldn't be alone all day, while she was at work.

As Jordan curled up on her couch, she thought about the past week. The tears started to fall as she wondered when or where it went so wrong. As she laid her sleepy head down on the pillow and drifted off to sleep, the last thing she remembered seeing, was Woody's face.