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Fear Itself

Chapter 10

Garret was the first to reach her.

He saw her fall through the windows of his office, and he stood from his desk so quickly his chair tipped over. "Jordan," he called, kneeling beside her and rolling her to her side. "Can you answer me? Jordan!"

Nigel and Claudia came running up behind him in a panic and crowded around the two people on the floor. "What happened?" Nigel asked. "Is she okay? Is she sick?"

"Get the hell away from me," Jordan spat angrily, smacking at all of the nervous hands reaching down to her and surprising everyone. Things were still spinning nauseatingly, and the people gathered around were making it worse. "Get away and stop touching me, for God's sake."

"Jordan -"

"No, Garret!" she growled furiously. She flopped onto her back and squeezed her eyes closed, refusing to look at the group pressed close to her. She was dizzy. That was all. She had a feeling she knew why, too, and it was only a short time before her boss figured it out as well. He knew her too well, and he knew her habits under stress. "I'm fine, okay? I just...just got a little vertigo. That's all. That's all."

Still, Garret pressed the palm of his hand to her forehead, then to each cheek to check for fever. She sneered at him the whole time, even with her closed eyes. "Drop your hand before I break your fingers."

It wasn't a light threat, and he finally withdrew somewhat, still crouched beside her so that potting soil smeared into the knees of his pants. "You're not sick. When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know," she answered dismissively, eyes still closed. There it was. "I don't care, either. Stop asking."

"Nigel," Garret began, turning slightly so he could see the other two people. They looked at him expectantly, ready for him to take charge and make this whole mess disappear. "Go make her a peanut butter sandwich -"

"Hey!"

"And on your way back," he continued boldly over her loud protest, "get a syringe so we can draw a blood sample, just to be sure. Claudia, why don't you join him?"

"I can call Woody, too," Nigel offered timidly.

Jordan's eyes snapped open at that and she shot him a nasty glare from the floor. "Pick up the phone and I'll kill you with my mind, if I have to. Don't you dare tell him. None of you. He can't know about this. He…just can't. And if I find out someone so much as breathed a word, so help me…"

The criminologist held his hands up in front of himself in defense, already backing away from her wrath. "Fine, fine. Come on, Claudia."

Suddenly Jordan and Garret were quite alone in the hall, both of them still getting covered in dirt and pieces of pottery. There was a thin branch poking her spine, but she was content to ignore it right then, still too dizzy move yet. "Don't start," she warned lowly.

"You're going to kill yourself!" the chief hissed, the worry in his voice obvious as he slid an arm under her shoulders to give her enough support to sit up and lean back against the wall. "Seriously. When was the last time you ate something substantial?"

She shrugged noncommittally and let her eyes fall closed again. "I dunno. Three days ago, maybe? Before all this shit happened."

"You can't do that anymore, Jordan! Not since -"

"Not since the tumor?" She gave a bitter laugh. "Right. I know. I just haven't been hungry. Okay?"

"No, not okay. You think that's an appropriate excuse? You just passed out in the hallway because of vertigo caused by lack of food!"

"I did not 'pass out'!" she argued vehemently. "I…I tripped over my feet. Because I was dizzy. Fine, because I haven't eaten well." She paused and let out a long, soft sigh as she took down a single and very small wall. "Or at all. I'll eat the goddamn sandwich. Happy?"

"Happier."

She opened one eye to a narrow slit and glanced over at him. "What, you're not going to scoop me up and hustle me into my office for quiet time? Really, man, it's practically twenty feet away." The fact that she wouldn't have protested the help went unsaid but was still loudly heard.

Garret laughed softly and sat next to her against the wall. "Please. I can't scoop you up."

"Then how did I get to my couch after, um…after my seizure that time?"

"Woody carried you."

"Oh."

"Jordan." Her friend reached out and touched her shoulder, then fell silent until she gave him her full attention. "You should tell him about this. Why won't you?"

"I don't want to scare him, Garret," she whispered, shaking her head as she thought about the detective. "He's lost everyone, and this…this will definitely scare him. Remember what we talked about yesterday." She could hear his rebuttal coming and stopped it before it could start with a compromise. "If I start feeling worse I'll tell him myself, and in the meantime I'll force food down my throat. In return, keep your mouth shut. Deal?"

"Deal. Now come on, I'll help you up."

xXx

"Patrick Gilbert has been off the map so far," Santana reported back later that evening, dropping down into the chair across from Woody's desk. "Twenty seven, works part-time as a pharmacy tech at a Walgreens across town, lives with his mom outside city limits, drives a really crappy car. He's never been arrested for anything, but he dropped out of grad school his second year for unknown reasons."

"What was he going to school for?" Woody asked, reaching forward to take his copy of the records.

"He was going to medical school at Boston University."

Their eyes met. That couldn't be a coincidence. "Any connection to our victims?"

"None at all." Santana shook her head. "He left the program long before he would have entered any kind of internships or higher-level classes that would have put him in contact with them. All we have is his very short enrollment. Also," she pulled out another list, "three of the other techs also attended Boston U. at some point, and another four are either currently enrolled or are already graduated. None of them are connected in any way."

Woody sighed in defeat. "I guess it's not much of a lead, then, huh? It's just a school."

"Don't give up hope yet!" The young detective grinned and opened her file again. "I used to date a guy who works in the D.A.'s office now, and I was able to use Gilbert's previous student status as enough evidence to gain access to his bank records. Through legal means, of course. Take a look at this."

He sat up in his chair again and stared down at the paper she had slid across his desk. "A deposit for ten grand?"

"Two days before Gilbert was scheduled to give the vaccines."

"This is payment," Woody whispered, his mind whirring as theories tried to form. "So someone probably gave him names and the bacteria, as well."

"Ten grand is kind of cheap to off someone, don't you think?" Santana chuckled. "This kid had no idea what he was doing, I'd bet."

"Has Bug already left?"

"Yeah, a while ago. Why?"

"I wonder how you would need to store something like this?" Woody jotted down some notes. "Refrigeration? Would it have been in the same kind of…kind of…vial as the regular vaccine? Whoever planned this knew exactly what they were doing." He paused and slowly let out his breath. "And they were smart."

Santana watched him, noticing as he began to fret. "I can have Gilbert come back in for questioning in the morning. Maybe if we keep things looking routine he won't freak out on us, and we'll be able to squeeze more out of him."

Woody nodded, still writing.

"How's Jordan?"

The question surprised him a bit, and he glanced up to meet the woman's knowing gaze. He cracked under it easily. "I swear to God, Luisa, if something happens to her because of this…" He dropped his head to his hands, feeling the sting of tears that he had been fighting back since he had left her alone that afternoon. "I don't know what I'll…how I could…I'll kill the bastard."

"You're blaming yourself," Santana suddenly realized. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and reached one hand across the desk to touch his arm. "Why?"

Woody shook his head, feeling embarrassment and fright and the overwhelming desire to talk to someone outside the morgue warring inside him. "I, uh, I may have passed the bacteria to her before we understood what was going on. The night before she discovered it," he explained briefly. The blush covering his face gave her the answer she needed.

"Because you found the first body," she filled in.

"Her…her immune system or whatever – God, I don't know, I'm not a doctor! – is more at risk than ours because of…" His voice trailed off and he shook his head again, unable to keep looking at her. "I can't lose her to this. Not to this. Not after -" And then he was done, and all he could do was continue shaking his head as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Santana stood and closed the door to his office, then hovered over him, rubbing his back and offering what words of comfort she could.

xXx

"So, what did you find out?"

Jordan was waiting for Woody when he got off the elevator, anxious for any kind of news. He raised his eyebrows at her, shoving a pizza box in her direction so he could get a better grip on his files. "Have you been standing here since we got off the phone?"

A brief pause. "Maybe." She lifted the lid to check the pizza with trepidation – her stomach was still trying to digest the peanut butter Garret watched her eat earlier – but he got her favorite. She'd keep up her end of the bargain as best she could. "Come on, man, what did you learn?"

Woody put a hand on the small of her back to guide her to her office, then closed the door and took off his suit jacket. Jordan had already set down the pizza and opened his files. "Not too much. Obviously," he added under his breath, though he couldn't help the smile that played over his lips.

"This Patrick Gilbert – he's your only lead right now?"

"Yeah. Santana and I went over everything with a fine-toothed comb, and he was the only person who looked even remotely out of place. We're having him come back tomorrow morning." He opened the pizza box and helped himself to a slice, watching her quietly and trying to forget about the breakdown he'd had just two hours before. They were together again and she was okay; that was all he needed. "How have things been here?"

Jordan glared at him, her lip curling up in distaste before she fell back against the cushions of the couch to be a little closer to him. "Shitty. I'm starting to hate it here."

He got another piece and handed it to her. She took it wordlessly and picked at a mushroom. "Hopefully we'll be home again soon."

She popped the cooked fungus into her mouth, chewing slowly to buy herself a bit of time. A wave of guilt hit her as she began to hide what had happened with the vertigo. She knew how upset he would be if he found out, but if he found out later and knew she had hid it from him? More than that, though… "There was an, um, an incident this afternoon."

"An incident?" Woody looked up, confused.

"Yeah." The innocent, trusting expression on his face jabbed at her heart. How could I ever think it was right to hide this from him?

"What, did you kill someone for the excitement?"

"No, but, uh, that would definitely have been more exciting." She sighed heavily and set her piece of pizza back in the box. "I wasn't going to tell you this, Woody, but I can't…can't lie to you, no matter how small a lie it may be. Our relationship deserves better than that."

"Jordan?"

"It's not a big deal, okay? Everyone was acting like it was, but it wasn't. It's mostly my own fault, anyway. And despite what Garret says, I was not unconscious for a second, even though he kept going on and on about how I passed out or some crap when I really didn't -"

"Jordan."

"What?" She blinked, realizing for the first time that he had no idea what she was talking about. Hearing the words 'unconscious' and 'passed out', though, had made him extremely nervous, and he had dropped his food and leaned forward, eyes wide. "Oh. Right. I just got dizzy and fell over. That's it."

"That's it?"

"Yes." She scowled and picked up her pizza again, then dropped it. "Garret and Nigel just made a huge deal out of it."

"Because…?"

Her scowl was turned to him, but it didn't last. She pursed her lips for a moment. "My appetite has been pretty low. I guess I haven't eaten enough. So it's my own fault, and why Garret was all over me for it. Nothing to do with this…this shit." She gestured to the file still open on the coffee table in front of them.

Woody was silent for a long moment, staring down at his hands and absorbing everything she had just told him. Then he opened his arms and urged her into them until she was curled up against his chest, just as silent as he was. "I'm not going to force you to eat, Jo, but please don't be afraid to talk to me. About your lack of appetite or anything else."

"I'm scared, Woody."

He kissed the top of her head before she turned her face to hide against his neck. "So am I."

"No, I mean…"

Sensing her hesitation, he hooked a finger under her chin and brought her eyes back to his. She swallowed, and he gave her a small, comforting smile. "It's okay, Jordan. What do you want to say?"

"I…talked with Kayla the other day."

That was unexpected and obviously not what she was initially going to say, and he dropped his hand in surprise. Without him directing her gaze, she settled herself back against his chest, not sure if she would be able to keep herself calm if she continued looking at him. Noticing he lost his chance to catch her eyes again, he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger as she clenched the fabric of his shirt tightly in her fingers. "How is she?"

"Fine. She's, um, getting ready to go to college." Her hand tightened on the fabric and she forced herself to let it go. "I know I've mentioned this to you before, but I want to make sure you really understand. Kids, right? I can't -"

"Jordan, hush."

Her eyebrows knitted in consternation, but she fell quiet and leaned back again to see his face, waiting to see what he was going to say.

"I don't care. Well no," he paused and cupped her face in his hands, "I do care – because it's obviously causing you pain – but it has no impact on our relationship. All I care about is you. Your health and wellbeing. And, most of all, being with you. Because I love you, so, so much. I've loved you since the very first week we met, I think. Kids or not – you are all I want." His kissed her gently. "Being with you for the rest of our lives."

But his words didn't exactly have the impact he had wanted them to have. As soon as the last four were out of his mouth, her face crumpled and her breath hitched once with the tears she was holding back. She turned her face from his hands and stood up out of his arms. "That's so sweet."

"But?" He followed her quickly, his heart pounding. "Jordan?" She didn't respond and, when she kept her back to him, he reached out and gently took her hand. "Jo? What is it?"

"I'm going to die, you know." She turned around suddenly, her eyes brimming. "I waited too long, and now…my body is betraying me. How long before it gives up?"

"Waited too long for what, Jo?"

"For…for us," she whispered weakly, not even sure what she was saying now. "For this. You know. We've talked about it. Kind of. But I can't help but wonder how much time we've lost, especially now that I…I…"

"Jordan, stop. Please." Woody took a few steps closer, relieved when she didn't keep putting space between them. "It's okay."

"No, just…wait. I need you to understand." She paused, trying to find the words as he pulled her back into an embrace. This was the kind of thing she had only half-heartedly spoken about with her various therapists over the years, and usually under duress. But then…no. I'm not afraid of dying; I'm afraid of leaving you alone. That's what she wanted to say. Did he need to know that? In the long run, it was still practically the same. 'She didn't want to die' being translated from 'she was afraid of leaving him alone'. Maybe…he didn't need to know that right then.

"I just love you, Farm Boy. A lot. And having control over my health taken out of my hands like this? It bothers me, to put things mildly."

"I know. I know, Jordan." Her name had turned into a prayer, falling off his lips, and he held her tighter against him, delighting in the feeling of her pressing her face against his neck, her arms around his waist. He dipped his own face to rest against her shoulder, kissing the exposed skin he found there. "We just need to take advantage of the time we have now, regardless of what may come. No more of this regretting the past. We're together now; that's all that matters."

She nodded slowly. "Okay."

"You never took your trip to Africa," Woody said softly. "Maybe after this is over, getting away would do you some good."

"Honeymoon?" They both tensed briefly as soon as she suggested it, surprising them both, and she continued quickly with, "For the wedding Nigel convinced Claudia we already had, I mean. Might as well take advantage of it, right?"

He smiled, kissing her shoulder again and planting another to the side of her neck. They hadn't slept together since the night before all of this began to unravel and, though they likely still wouldn't until they were able to return home, he couldn't help but continue kissing her soft skin as she tilted her chin to the side to give him more access. Her question hummed through his mind again. "Mmm, I like that proposal. Spending a few uninterrupted weeks with you in another country? Yes, please. Seeing Africa might be nice, too."

Jordan laughed, the first genuine laugh he had heard from her in a while. It was music to his ears. A weight had been lifted from both their minds.

"Should we lock the door and close the blinds?" she murmured when his kisses began to progress along her jaw.

"Probably a good idea. At least for a little while."