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Chapter Eleven: Looking In, Looking Out

Woody stared at the ceiling as he idly stroked Jordan's hair. Shortly after the doctor had left, Woody had climbed up into the bed and nestled the sleeping Jordan against his side. She had been asleep for almost twelve hours now. Woody knew Jordan needed rest. Her body required it to begin healing, and emotionally she needed the escape. The morphine had knocked her out, but Jordan's mind kept her there.

Woody couldn't help but want her to wake up. Seeing her beautiful eyes would prove to him and she'd be okay—that she'd make it. Tenderly he kissed Jordan's forehead and settled further into the bed, deciding that he could probably use the rest as well.

Images and emotions swirled around Jordan's mind. She was in that weird place between sleep and wakefulness, and she couldn't get passed it. She didn't want to wake up, for fear that she would find herself back in that dark, cold room with the terrorists. But sleep wasn't providing relief anymore, as she couldn't sink low enough to get beyond the nightmares.

She felt herself being moved…hands were touching her. Fear flooding her, Jordan forced herself into consciousness with a gasp. Her eyes popped open and she struggled, trying to get away from the terrorists she thought were surely going to hurt her again.

"Jordan, it's okay," a voice said. It was calm…the terrorists weren't calm. They didn't know her name; they thought she was Ziva.

The voice called again, "Jordan…you're safe…it's okay, it's just the doctor." This time, the voice was accompanied by a hand gently running its fingers through her hair.

Jordan reached toward the voice with her one good arm. She caught a hand and squeezed it tightly. She strained her eyes to focus, and finally Woody's face came swimming into view.

Jordan immediately relaxed, despite the doctor's continuing examination of the stitches on her legs.

Woody smiled softly at her. "Hey," he said. "You're okay, Jordan…I'm here…no one is going to hurt you."

Jordan sighed and nodded, still to out of it to form words. She kept a tight hold on his hand and listened as the doctor started to speak.

"Welcome back, Dr. Cavanaugh. I'm Dr. Meyers," the woman said. "You seem to be in pretty good shape, considering. You're stitches are fine—there's no infection. There was no internal bleeding, just a lot of bruising. Your right arm and both your ankles are going to be in casts for about six weeks, and then you'll need some physical therapy. The only thing I'm really concerned with is pneumonia. You've got it in both lungs. I'm going to keep you here for a few days to monitor, just to be safe."

Jordan and Woody nodded. Even though she was a doctor, the words went right over her sluggish head. She felt like crap, whatever the doctor said, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

When Dr. Meyers finally left, Woody began fussing over her. "Would you like some water? Do you want to sit up? What do you need, honey?"

She just wanted to sleep, but Woody already had the water pitcher and a glass half full. He put a straw in the cup and held it up to her face. Realizing just how thirsty she was, Jordan gratefully took several big sips.

When she was finished, Woody put the cup away and sat down by her on the bed. He took her hand and stroked her hair again. "How're you feeling?"

She looked at him for a beat. "Okay," she whispered. He squeezed her hand. "I'm just…tired."

Woody nodded. "It's okay, Jordan…you can sleep…you need it."

"I know," she said. "But…I can't…I just…."

Her face screwed up into what Woody knew was pain—and probably fear—but he also knew that Jordan wouldn't voice it.

"Do you want more morphine?" he asked, jerking his thumb towards the door indicating the nurse.

"No." It was the strongest her voice had sounded yet. Woody almost laughed at her stubbornness.

"Okay," he replied.

Jordan closed her eyes, but they flew open after hardly a second. She sighed. "Are you…will you…stay?" she asked timidly, her eyes not quite reaching his.

He smiled. "Of course I'll stay," he said. Woody lay down carefully and eased Jordan into his arms. "I'll be right here."