AN: Maybe this Helena-chapter-title-thing wasn't such a good idea. I may have to incorporate other MCR song lyrics or titles into chapter titles because I'm quickly running out of options! This was a difficult chapter to write, I didn't know where to start or how to end. Help me out by leaving reviews; do you like it? Could I have done something different?

Thank you to Susan Rose, Orlando-crazy, Keridwen89, KittyDoggyLover, and Angel Spirit! loving your reviews, but don't be afraid to send crit!

Things Are Better if I Stay

"What happened to me?" She demanded. The tears forming in her eyes were more than Woody could bear.

Max had gone home for a while to shower and shave. He left Woody with Jordan hoping that she would not wake before he returned. His wish was unfulfilled. Twenty minutes after stepping out of the hospital, Jordan woke in painful sobs. Woody went to fetch a doctor.

"You were in a car accident, Jordan," Woody answered, "Do you remember anything?"

She paused for a moment, her face, stricken with a pained look that Woody would never forget, "N-no."

"You were on your way to the Fens," he paused, not wanting to damage her even more with all of the details. He did not want her to know that she was the one who ran the red light and that it was his car that hit her. He would tell her eventually, but not when her physical pain was so excruciating.

"And…"

"And another car hit yours."

She cried out and Woody continued shakily, he tried comforting her, "Your dad and I haven't left your side since you got here."

"When was that?" She croaked

"Four days ago."

"Four days!" She exclaimed. Surprised, she tried to sit up but that only resulted in more pain. Screaming she eased herself back down to the same position that she had slept in.

A bespectacled oriental doctor, entered. Woody took a step back. The doctor began checking her over, he scribbled upon a clipboard in silence while Jordan bombarded him with questions.

"I want to know what's wrong with me," she demanded through gritted teeth.

"Well," the doctor said patiently, "Your prognosis looks promising. Swelling is going down. You should have all of your stitches taken out in a week; the casts have to stay on for at least six weeks though. You will have some scarring, especially on your face and your burned leg. A war wound on your side where your ribs punctured your lung. You are lucky. If it weren't for that seatbelt you were wearing, you'd be a lot worse," he added with a smile.

Jordan was not so sure she could be any worse than what she was feeling. When he had left she turned to Woody. "Tell me what happened."

"Well—"

"And don't spare me the details, I'm pretty sure I can handle it," she said.

"I don't know if I can handle it…" He said, his stomach churning and his face turning slightly olive. He nodded and obediently started telling the story that Nigel, with the help of Jordan's doctors, had pieced together based on her injuries.

"The other car hit your door while your van went off to the right. The airbag went off but your body went sideways into the door. Your arm crushed between the steering wheel and the door and the door broke your leg. Your broken ribs punctured your lung. Your head smashed into the window, breaking the glass. The hot coffee you were holding spilled onto your leg and you probably have whiplash," he finished his monotonous drawl quickly as if he were listing off offences to a criminal.

"That's it?" Jordan asked sardonically as she felt another shoot of pain sift through her entire body.

A nurse entered, sent in by the doctor, feeding Jordan morphine through intravenous, which eased the pain slightly.

"Now dear, try not to move. You'll only make the pain worse." She propped up her pillows and made Jordan more comfortable before bustling off to attend to her next patient.

"You need to shave," she said, more calmly. The drugs were kicking in.

Woody smiled down on her, rubbing his scruffy chin, "Yeah, I guess I do."

Max entered, panting, "The doctor told me—Jordan!"

"Hey dad," she said, her eyes glazing over. She managed a painful half-smile.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. When did you wake up?" He asked protectively.

"Dad, I'm fine. I woke up a few minutes ago. The nurse came…" Her speech slightly slurred.

"I see that," he grinned, standing by her bed, caressing what was left of her hair.

"I think I need a drink,"

"Don't we all?" he laughed.

--- --- ---

"Max, I just think it's better if we don't tell her the whole story right now. Let her deal with her injuries and then we'll tell her everything," Woody urged. They were walking down the hallway, going to their cars after Jordan had fallen back to sleep. Now that they knew she would be all right, they could both finally let their guard down. However, Woody was reluctant to leave her side.

"She's a big girl, Woody, I'm sure she can handle the truth," Max argued.

Woody was desperate, "It's just that—"

"You want to save your ass in her eyes because it was your car that did this to her?"

Max knew exactly what to say to make Woody feel guilty, "No. I want to tell her myself for the same reason. I just want to do it in my own time," he explained.

Max sighed. "She won't like this, you know that. You may be doing more harm than good."

Woody looked at him a moment, studying his features, "Not if I do it right."

Max was about to separate from him, heading toward his own vehicle, "What is the right way, Woody? You can't hide anything from her, believe me, I've tried."