#A/N: HERE'S ANOTHER SHORT CHAPTER, I SHOULD HAVE A FEW UP TODAY, NOT SURE ABOUT THE WEEKEND. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW. ENJOY! AS ALWAYS, THEY ARE NOT MINE.
CHAPTER 23: HUMILIATION AND HELPLESSNESS
Jordan couldn't sleep that night, so she went down stairs to sleep on the couch, just incase Woody needed something. Once she got comfortable, the night flew by. The house was silent until Jordan was jarred awake by a crash in the den bathroom. She jumped off the couch and ran into the room. She knocked on the bathroom door, "Woody, are you okay?". "Ah yeah Jordan, I'm fine. Just dropped something. Is Calvin there?", Woody asked. "No, he's in the shower.", Jordan replied. "What about Max?", he asked, becoming annoyed. "Dad's out walking Bailey. I can help Woody. Just tell me what you need.", she offered. "It's just the support bar fell. I can wait for Cal." "That's silly, I'm right here.", Jordan stated, walking into the bathroom and picking up the support. "God Jordan, get out", Woody yelled. "Oh, please Woody……", she started. "Get the hell outta here, I mean it.", he said angrily. "Woody, please let me help you." she said offering her hand. "Just leave me alone.", he screamed. "Fine.", she screamed back.
Jordan ran upstairs, bumping into Cal as he exited the bathroom. "Shower's all yours.", Cal laughed as Jordan ran passed him. She went into her bedroom to get her toiletries and clothes. "Hey Jordan, what happened?", Cal asked. "You need to go help your bother, he sure as hell doesn't want my help.", she said marching into the bathroom and slamming the door. Jordan let the hot water envelope her, as she took a deep breath, trying to stop her heart from racing. She immediately felt guilty for leaving things the way she did with Woody. She understood how proud he was and how difficult it was for him to just ask for help, let alone accept it. She hurried up, wanting to talk to Woody before he left for therapy. As she ran down the stairs, her hair dripping wet, Woody and Cal were already out the door. "Don't worry, Cal told me, I'll talk to him when I pick him up from therapy.", Max called from the bottom of the stairs. "Thanks Dad.", Jordan said quietly, retreating back upstairs.
Woody's therapy session was extremely hard and tiring, even though the therapists were doing the majority of the work. Max helped Woody into the car and headed home. He tried small talk, but Woody just starred out the window. "How'd it go.", Max asked. Woody shrugged his shoulders, "Okay, I guess." "You know, she was only trying to help.", Max offered. Woody looked down, "Yeah I know………Listen Max, I really don't want to talk about it…..please….it's to humiliating.", he whispered. Woody looked out of the window again, Max could see a wet glimmer in his eyes. Max nodded as the two drove the rest of the way home in silence. Max followed Woody into the kitchen, not knowing what else to say to the young man. Woody filled up a glass of water and downed his afternoon meds. "Lord, your brother sure can eat.", Max chuckled, looking into the almost bare refrigerator. "I have to go to the store, you need anything before I leave?", Max asked. "No thanks, I would rather be alone anyway.", Woody replied softly; petting Bailey, who had perched her head in his lap.
About an hour later, Max returned home from the market. With groceries in hand, he unlocked the door, to find Bailey barking wildly. "Move girl.", he ordered, trying to push the door open. Max stepped back and dropped the grocery bags at the sight. Woody was lying , unconscious, on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a broken wine bottle, scattered pills and blood, a lot of blood. "My God, Woody.", Max yelled as he dropped to his knees and dialed 911.