AN: Enlightenment was such a good ep! I'm so glad to see Woody and Jordan separate! Lol, you are all going to think I'm crazy for saying that… I was thinking the show was losing its touch with the same old WJ story line; a little separation will spice things up! Jealousy perhaps? But I don't see the chemistry between Jill and Charles Mesur… well, that's my rant lol

Enternalgorithm: don't worry, it'll all work out lol

KittyDoggyLover: awwww thank you! You're so kind.

And to the rest of you as well, paigelynn, Keridwen89, Susan Rose Potter, and Orlando-crazy thank you for commenting, I really appreciate it! Thank you for waiting, I hope you all like this chapter!

Well if You Wanted Honesty

Jordan nearly collapsed where she stood. Relieved to be back in her apartment, she wanted to kiss the dusty floor, instead she made her way to the couch, propped her crutches up against the side and elevated her tired feet.

Who knew it would be so much work just to get up to where I live, flipping on the television, she sighed.

After waking, hours later, feeling refreshed from a TV induced nap, Jordan felt hungry. She hobbled to her refrigerator only to find that she had no food. Three weeks ago, she had intended to go grocery shopping since that time, what remaining food she had left had gone foul. She picked up the plastic carton of congealing milk off the shelf, lifting her nose with it; she tossed it into the garbage. Her vegetables were nearly soil in the drawers and the bread on the counter housed millions of fungi colonies. Even her cheese had seen better days.

She contemplated ordering in, it was fast but not cheap, she had been out of work for the past three weeks, and her rent had strapped her for cash. She flipped her jacket over her shoulders. There was a convenience store down the block. She was sure she could make it; after all, it had been a longer trek to the hospital's front doors from her room.

She looked in the mirror before leaving. I'm a wreck, she admitted. For the first time, tears of longing came to her eyes. She wanted to be normal again. She did not feel the same, she wanted her hair back she missed the zeal she had for life. She replaced it with a hat.

"Do you need any help ma'am?" The pubescent boy at the front counter asked her as she struggled with the cold-room door.

"No thanks, I can manage," she said, carefully taking a carton of milk from the roller. After every item, she went back to the counter to place it. She was careful not to buy too many things, in case she could not carry it all back.

"Is that everything for you ma'am?" he asked politely. Jordan wished he would stop calling her ma'am, she felt it aged her considerably.

"I think I'll take this too," she said, placing a chocolate bar onto the counter as well.

"Your total comes to twenty-one, twenty-six. Thank you, seventy-four cents is your change. Do you need a hand out to your car with that?"

"I didn't bring my car, unless you want to help me to my apartment," she said.

The boy blushed wordlessly, handing her a doubled bag of groceries.

The bag was heavier than she had expected it to be and it unbalanced her considerably. She constantly felt as if she were going to fall over. She could not wait to get back to her apartment and relax. She was beginning to think that being too independent was a bad thing and that she should have just ordered a pizza.

She was at the front door of her apartment. She leaned against the wall, leaning her head against the brick she shivered with pain. She almost wished one of her neighbors, who were mostly private in their ways, would have a sudden bout of charity and help her carry her bag to her apartment.

She turned to open the door and a dark figure burst out before her, not knocking her down, but checking her left side.

"Watch where you're going lady!" He exclaimed angrily.

If the breath were not knocked from her lung, she would have retaliated at the figure walking away from her. Instead, the tears welled in her eyes and she was unable to say anything. She stood, shaking on the spot feeling unbelievably helpless.

"Jordan?"

She jumped at her name, the pain in her chest throbbing

"Woody!" she exclaimed, trying to hide her face by looking at the closed door, she struggled to open it, and so Woody reached forward opening it for her. She hobbled ahead of him, muttering her thanks. She was so ashamed of him seeing her vulnerable that she rushed to the elevator.

He followed her desperately, "Jordan, I want to talk to you."

"Well, I'm not in the mood for a talk right now," she stated shakily with a hint of finality.

Woody would not take no for an answer as he was determined to apologize to her. However, he did not know how to begin. He had not predicted his apology would come in an elevator. He took a deep breath, shifting his weight to his left foot.

"Do you want me to hold your bag for you?" He asked awkwardly.

She held it out for him reluctantly and was relieved of the heavy burden on her arm. She could maneuver her crutches with ease now, and when the elevator stopped at her floor, she quickly hobbled to her door and opened it. Woody followed her in uninvited, placing the groceries on the counter, he voluntarily began putting them away for her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, taken aback.

"I'm helping you out, what were you doing? You should have been resting, not shopping," he reprimanded her lightly as she stood behind the island counter.

"There was no food," tears were stinging her nose as she tried to hold them back, "I got here and everything was rotten, so I had to go shopping," she sniffed as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Woody stopped handling her groceries and turned to her. She stood on the spot crying, "Who would have known that something I do so often would be such a burden! Then there was this stupid guy who came out of the apartment and nearly knocked me over, he didn't even care he just—" she dropped her crutches to the floor, depending on the counter to hold her weight, she broke down.

Woody ran to her, he put his arm around her shoulder and she fell into him, trusting him to hold her. She cried into her chest, as she had not done in the past three weeks. She had cried out and tears may have formed in her eyes during times of intense pain, but she had not surrendered until that moment in Woody's arms.

"When I look at myself in the mirror, I don't even recognize myself!" She bawled.

He soothed her with gentle words but her statement hit him the hardest. "I know, Jordan, one day you'll look the same, everything will be okay."

"I want it to be okay right now!" she exclaimed.

He rubbed her back and caressed the back of her neck. He had to admit that he missed her soft brunette hair but he would never say that to her.

"I brought you Thai food, do you want some?" He whispered softly into her ear. She nodded into his chest, taking deep breaths trying to get her emotions under control.

"OK," he said, picking up her crutches for her, he left her standing, "Take a seat on the sofa, I'll get it for you." He began sifting through the bags that Jordan had not noticed him bring in. She was so preoccupied that she had not even smelled the distinct odor of Thai's spicy cuisine. He handed her a Styrofoam container and some chopsticks before taking his own and sitting beside her.

They ate in relative silence and when they had finished Woody volunteered clean up and offered to take out her garbage. She nodded, ashamed that he thought she could not do these things herself.

"I really can, Woody, you don't have to," she said, taking her crutches and standing.

"No, Jordan," he said forcefully, "I want to help you, it's the least I can do."

"The least you can do?" She said, unsure of what he meant. Then the pieces clicked together in her mind and she remembered what he had done, or rather, what he had not done. She had been so preoccupied with self-pity that she had forgotten why she was so angry with him. "Why didn't you tell me Woody?" she asked calmly, with a hint of temper in her voice.

Woody suddenly felt very uncomfortable, as if he had worn out his welcome. His reason for coming, bearing food to soften the blow, had arrived.

"I meant, to tell you, Jordan. It tore me up inside that I couldn't get the words out whenever I talked to you," he admitted.

Jordan could sense he was telling the truth, perhaps it was his anguished tone of voice. However, no matter the way he felt, or how much he wanted to make it up to her, she was not in a forgiving mood.

"My family and friends withheld the truth so that you could have your opportunity. You had every opportunity and you still did not tell me. What is so hard about coming to me and saying, 'Hey Jordan, sorry it was my car you hit,'" She exclaimed, "I mean, I've already come to terms that it's my fault, all you had to do was tell me."

"Jordan, I wanted to, but I blamed myself. When I saw you trapped in that van, I didn't know what to do. I was so afraid. It was my fault."

Jordan shook her head, unbelieving. "Three weeks, Woody. You've had three weeks."

His head, hung with disappointment in himself, "I know it's my biggest regret." He took up the garbage, replacing the bag with a fresh one and walked toward the door. He paused, fiddling with the handle, and said, "I hope you can forgive me, Jordan. I've been stupid."

"I'm not going to say you haven't been."

"Just do me one favor," she scoffed, "just, please accept some help from your father at least until you get better. I'd like to help you but it doesn't seem like you really want me to anymore." Those being his final words, he slipped behind the door, shutting it softly.