Mac3- Yes, twisting is fun!

peridotstone823- Thanks, it's fun being evil in fanfiction cause it has no effect on the actual show. You will find out if she's blind, and in the meantime, (hides arms)

hmmmm- (blink) wow...I'm honored. Thanks. I'm updating as fast as I can, but writer's block apparently doesn't care if people are waiting, and has struck me anyways. Lol. Oh, and I love the mouse part.

KittyDoggyLover- Yeah, we do. Oh well, it's fun that way.

rae1112- Yeah, I'm having fun. (slaps Woody) It was his fault... And yes, we did good, livened up the story a bit. Lol. I shall NEVER stop the cliffies! Muahaha! Actually, I don't think this one's really a cliffie, and it's longer. hehe...car keys...

Silas Quinn- Yeah, he was okay in the first few seasons (which happen to be showing on A&E right now), but then he just went cold in my opinion. I just decided to overdo it. LOL. I love the J/N pairing, and it really is the only Jordan pairing out there for me. (Though I do like L/B as well!)

cavanaugh-girl- yeah sorry, like I said above, I just felt like overdoing it with this one. Hehe...

Yeah, sorry for leaving you all hanging, and the last chapter was short, I know. This one's longer. Enjoy, and as always, reviews are appreciated!

Back to the Basement

Chapter 5: Blind

- Jordan –

It took awhile for the truth to set in. Nigel immediately called for a doctor, who told us that I had sustained some apparent brain damage, which caused my loss of sight. Yet there was no way to tell if it was temporary or not. I was only barely listening, trying to take it in, to accept the fact that I may never see again. Never see waves wash upon the beach, never see the fiery leaves of autumn, never again see Nigel's face, smiling warmly.

He held my hand the whole time the doctor talked, seemingly determined to show his support. He knew what it meant for me to lose my sight. For one thing, I couldn't work at the morgue anymore. Performing autopsies required the ability to see.

I cried a lot as the doctor left. Nigel kept a firm grip on my hand, stroking my hair gently. I heard him sniff a few times, so he may have been crying as well. There was no way to know. I kept my eyes closed, making it slightly easier to handle the complete darkness. Eventually, despite my constant throbbing headache, I fell asleep.

I was in the hospital for a long time, though that didn't stop others from visiting me every day. Garret, Lily, Bug, and Dad all came to see me a several times, making the long trip from Boston with each visit and always offering whatever help they could. Dad and Lily were in tears at first, and Bug was as good a friend as ever, though Garret offered possibly the best comfort of the four of them.

"You won't have to leave the morgue," he said. "Things will be different, but as long as you want to stay, we'll find a place for you."

I was slightly surprised that Woody never turned up, though I strongly suspected that he would have if it weren't for the others, that they had probably prevented him from coming for my benefit, and I was grateful. Nigel had taken a room at a motel nearby and visited every day, always staying, sometimes for hours, to talk and comfort me, sometimes just to sit and hold my hand or, as I got better, keep his arm around me. No on was mad at me for running, and only Nigel brought it up.

"Why'd you go Jordan?" he asked one day.

"I told you in my note," I said. "You did get it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I got it. I just…had to make sure it wasn't something I'd done." He said this last part in a rush.

"No!" I said quickly. "No, of course not Nige. I said it wasn't because of you and I meant it. It hurt to leave you, a lot, but I didn't want you to get dragged into my personal issues. It was something I had to deal with."

"I understand." He sighed. "Though I would have gone with you."

"I know," I said. Then I asked something that had been bugging me for a long time. "Who found me?"

"Pardon?"

"I was attacked by that guy with the shovel, but someone rescued me. I heard them calling my name, but I don't remember their voice. Do you know who it was?" He let out a long low sigh.

"It was me," he said finally.

"You?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah. I- now don't be mad at me- I traced your phone call and followed you to DC." Then he added, "I wasn't going to try and bring you back, just join you." There was a moment of stunned silence, and then I laughed. He had done exactly what Woody threatened to do.

"You're not mad?" he asked apprehensively.

"No," I said. "I mean, you saved my life, which I guess was just a huge stroke of luck?"

"Yeah," he said. "I figured you'd be dead tired when you got there, so I stopped at the first cheap little motel I saw and asked for you. The guy at front said you'd left that morning. So I went to the garage nearest the motel, and you just happened to be there when I pulled through." I was amazed.

"But how'd you stop him? I mean…" I probed my memory. "I heard a gunshot." There was an even longer, and much more awkward pause.

"You wouldn't think it'd be so hard," he said finally. "I mean, I was in the Royal Navy after all. But the truth is I'd never actually killed a man before. Yet when I saw you there on the ground…and the blood…" He lapsed into silence.

"Will you be alright?" I asked.

"Legally, yeah. It was self defense, and the security cameras caught it all."

"And otherwise?" He paused again.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll be fine." He gave my hand a small squeeze, which I returned.

"Did you ever watch the security tapes?" I asked.

"I did," he said. "You put up a good fight. I was impressed." I gave a half smile and he squeezed my hand again. We sat in silence for the rest of his visit.

Everyone was there to greet me when I was released from the hospital. I didn't know this however until Nigel pointed it out as he rolled my wheelchair into the waiting room. I was immediately hugged by Dad and then Lily, who were soon followed by Garret and Bug each putting a hand on my shoulder. Woody, I was told, wasn't there.

Finally, I was able to stand and walk again, though only with Nigel's arm to guide me. My new disability was impossible to get used to. I felt as if I was standing in an endless sea of darkness that spread for miles all around me, and yet oddly confined at the same time. Either way, I felt alone, even with Nigel there. I looked to him for full comfort now, which he never failed to provide. He agreed to move in with me, at least for awhile. I would need help with the simplest of everyday life. I hated being so helpless.

Nigel walked slowly to the hospital doors, dragging both a heavy suitcase, and me. I clung to him, fearing that I would run into or trip over something with every step. But he did his job well, leading me near perfectly with only a stumble or two. I was in an eternal trust-walk from now on.

I didn't talk much as we made the drive home, though Nigel did. He babbled on about trivial things, and I didn't mind. In fact, I was glad. I needed to hear his voice to distract me. When we finally arrived, he led me slowly up to my floor and opened the door for me. I'd never have thought that my own apartment could feel so alien, but it did. Every step, every turn, I felt like I was going to knock something over. That first day was the worst.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Nigel asked. There was a pause. "Or," he said quickly, correcting his mistake, "we could listen to some music?" I gave him a small smile. He helped me get settled on the couch and then went to pop in a CD.

"I'll be right back," he said, and I heard him make his way to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later and setting something down on the table. He pressed a warm mug into my hands and I the smelled the sweet aroma of coffee rising from it. I smiled and took a sip, grateful that he somehow knew how I took my coffee. He sat down and draped an arm over my shoulders. I heard him take a sip from his own mug. It was impossible to tell how much time passed as we sat there, though our drinks disappeared fairly quickly.

"What time is it?" I asked after awhile.

"9:30," he said, and then added quickly, "at night. You want to go to work tomorrow?" I shrugged.

"Sure," I said half-heartedly. Nigel gave me a squeeze.

"Dr. M will find a place for you, love. Don't worry about it." I nodded, then sighed and leaned back into him, laying my head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me.

"Love?" he asked after about ten more minutes of silence. "You awake?"

"Barely," I muttered.

"You want to go to bed now?"

"Yeah." Gently he lifted and carried me, as he had done so many times before, to my bedroom, sitting me on the edge of the bed. Then I felt him sit next to me.

"I'll get your pajamas, shall I?" I nodded and heard him get up and walk away. He came back and lay the clothing across my lap. "I'll get changed as well. You got it love?"

"Yeah." I smiled. "Thanks Nige." He put his hand briefly on my shoulder and then I heard him leave, closing the door behind him with a snap. I sighed, then slowly pulled off my clothes and slipped carefully into the pajamas. At least I could still get dressed on my own. Nigel came back a minute later and we slid into bed together.

"Night Jordan," he whispered.

"Night Nigel." I drifted into sleep.

…

It was cold.

I stood in a dark room, the only light source a door up a flight of stairs. A man stood before me, aiming a gun at my chest.

So very cold…

"So you're going to kill me?" I asked him. He smiled.

"Eventually," he said.

Then Nigel appeared nearby. I tried to reach out, to put my arms around him so that he could hold me and keep me warm. But he was walking away, walking towards Mitchell, where there hung a rope over a small stool. I tried to call out to him, to tell him he mustn't go there, mustn't let himself be hung.

But now Mitchell had tied the rope around Nigel's neck. He stood on the stool, smiling and saying that everything would be alright. I wanted to scream, to yell, to make him realize that it wouldn't be alright.

"You will kick the stool," said Mitchell.

"No," I said. "No."

"You have to," said Mitchell. "Or I'll kill the hostage!" He pointed his gun in a different direction. I looked and saw Woody sitting there, tied to a chair.

" Jordan!" he called. "Don't let him kill me Jordan! Kill Nigel! He's a stalker anyways! Kill him!"

"No!" I said again, more strongly.

"Do it!" shouted Mitchell. I felt my foot lift, felt it brace against the rim of the stool.

"Do it!"

I pushed. The stool fell away, and so did Nigel. Everything fell into blackness as the light went out…

…

"NO!" I shouted. I opened my eyes to find myself still engulfed in darkness. Where was I? I flailed my arms, trying to find him, find something…

" Jordan!" I heard Nigel say loudly from beside me. I felt his arms wrap themselves around me, and I remembered everything. I wasn't in the basement. I was at home, in bed with Nigel, drenched in cold sweat. We were both safe.

And I was blind.

I relaxed and fell into his grip, crying. He held me tightly, gently stroking my hair and whispering in my ear.

"It's alright Jordan, it was a dream. Just a nightmare. It's over now…"

When I could speak again, I said, "I thought…I thought I was in the basement. When I woke up it was black. I forgot, and I thought we were still down there…" It was that night when I first realized it, realized that though we had left the basement behind, I would now carry it's darkness with me forever. I had gone back down, back to the basement, and I would be stuck there as long as I was blind.

We sat like that for awhile, until finally, as I stopped crying, we lay down and I fell asleep in his arms. I didn't dream again that night.

Alright, now that you all know that she is blind, I can say some things. First of all, I have no idea what it's really like to be blind, as I myself am not, nor do I know what a newly-blind person may go through. I'm guessing. Second, if I make a mistake and describe something in Jordan's POV that she couldn't know (like Nigel nodding) tell me, cause I tend to do that. Thanks!