Bring Me Home
"Max? What the hell are you doing here?" Woody demanded, voice gruff with frustration as he reholstered his gun running a helpless hand through his hair.
"What the hell am I doing here? What the hell are you doing here?" Max demanded, dropping his own gun, "How the hell did you find me?"
"That would be my fault," Cal said, eyeing the older man dubiously, "Cal Hoyt-I've got buddies in the Market who'll talk about anything for an old friend."
"What do you guys want?" Max asked suspiciously.
Woody sighed, explaining, "We were looking around for the man who's been asking around about Jordan."
"Why?" Max frowned then groaned, "She ran again, didn't she? I knew there was something wrong when no one could get anything on her."
"She was in protective custody Max," Woody cut in gently, "For a month. Her plane back here arrived at 6:30 this morning. A man from one of her old cases was after her. They'd thought they'd caught the guy but it must have been the wrong one because Jordan was kidnapped from the airport early this morning."
"What? Is she okay? Do you know where she is?" he stopped, snorting derisively as he said, "Of course you don't know! Why the hell else would you be here?"
Woody sighed softly, shaking his head as he said, "Let's hope they had better luck with that editor."
Woody's cell rang suddenly and he flipped it open urgently with a sharp, "Hoyt!"
"Woody? It's Nigel!" the Brit yelled over the noise of sirens.
"What have you got?" Woody demanded, instantly alert.
"Our editor is MIA. But Bug, Dr. Macy and I went through his office. We found an address on a notepad-it corresponds with one of the sites from the map." Nigel answered, "We've got people all over it, but you're closest!"
"Where?" Woody demanded instantly, listening to the quick directions before clicking the phone shut with a curt, "See you there."
Turning back to the three awaiting men, he said softly "We've got the bastard."
Jordan whimpered tearfully as she woke, body wracked with pain. She blinked open teary, exhausted eyes, groaning as she took in the increasingly familiar sight of the bare basement.
Pushing down her panic and defeat, Jordan rolled herself carefully onto her back, assessing her damage silently. Her fingers flitted expertly across her body, searching for broken bones and heavy wounds. A grim smile touched her lips when she'd finished.
Her left forearm was broken, as well as at least two of her fingers and one rib. A large, vivid bruise had formed on her abdomen and Jordan worried about internal damage, Her right hip had been dislocated-she popped it painfully back in with a muffled scream of pain. She'd also cut herself when she'd fallen down the stairs-once across her cheek, once on her temple and one that stretched along the side of her left leg from her shin to her knee. But all were only minor scrapes that had already stopped bleeding and begun to scab over.
Carefully, she pulled herself into a sitting position, breathing heavily. Using the post from the stair-rail for support, Jordan pulled herself to her feet, eyes filled with tears of pain. Gasping in agony, she leaned heavily against the post.
Above her, she could hear the sound of footsteps and a muffled voice. It took her a few moments before she realized that there were two pairs of footsteps and two voices.
Painfully, she pulled herself up the stairs, leaning heavily against the rail. Carefully, she climbed the stairs, making no noise. When she reached the top step, she lowered herself gently onto the stair, leaning gently against the door as she listened intently to the two voices.
"How the hell could you let her out?" a loud, booming male voice demanded.
"Relax Vega," Digger's voice drawled boredly, "It's not like she got away."
"No, instead she smashed your face in with a pipe!" Vega sneered back.
"Shut up Vega, or I'll smash in your face with a pipe!" Digger barked, voice laced with anger.
There was an angry growl from Vega's direction and the pair continued to yell at each other. The pair was so loud and distracted that they missed the sound of a car pulling up to the house. They didn't, however, miss the sound of gravel crunching under someone's feet.
"What the hell are we going to do?" Vega demanded in an attempt at a whisper(but the fact that Jordan could hear him attested to the fact that it was a failed attempt), "How the hell did they find us?"
"Shut up Vega!" Digger commanded, and Jordan could hear the safety being pulled off of a gun, "I don't know how they got here, but I know how they'll be leaving."
Jordan winced as she heard the pair walking away from the basement door. Desperately, she prayed whoever had found them would be okay-that she'd be okay.
Quietly, she whispered, "Please, somebody, save
"Cal, you're staying in the car." Woody commanded as Drew stopped the car, pulling his gun from his holster.
"What?" Cal demanded angrily, "Why?"
"Because you're a civilian!" Woody snapped, wheeling on his brother, "You don't have a gun. And because you're my brother and I'm not letting you get hurt!"
"Woody, I'm a big boy. And I owe Jordan-I almost got her killed with the Mob!" Cal protested adamantly.
"This man has killed over twenty women, Cal, he's dangerous. AND you. Don't. Have. A. Gun!"
"There's a cop, an FBI agent and an ex-cop in this car- you can't tell me honestly that none of you have a back-up." Cal pointed out with a slight sneer for his brother.
"Here." Drew said simply, pulling his back-up piece from the compartment and handing it over to the bigger man. He met Woody's angry glare with a soft, "Jordan needs us all to really get the guy this time."
Woody's anger wilted immediately, and Max interrupted, growling, "Let's go. My baby girl is not spending another minute in that place!"
"Amen to the," Woody said simply as the four pulled their doors open and stepped out.
There were two other cars in the lot, a cherry red Jeep Cherokee and a sleek, expensive silver convertible. The convertible's plates matched the ones Nigel had given him for the editor-a Luis Vega.
The four walked cautiously up the porch of the only standing house, their guns drawn. The inside was suspiciously quiet.
Woody moved forward to kick in the door, but Cal waved him away. Cal indicated his bigger frame with a wave of his hand, and, before Woody could protest, Cal had smashed the door in with his shoulder.
As soon as Cal placed one foot into the doorway of the rundown house, a pipe was brought smashing down on his temple. The big man crumpled to the ground.
"The bigger they are, the harder they fall!" snickered a deep male voice from the shadows of the house.
"Cal!" Woody cried, rushing forward, intent on reaching his fallen brother, but Drew grabbed hold of the Detective with his good arm. Woody turned on the agent, snarling, "Let go of me, Haley!"
"That's Digger, Hoyt," Drew said quietly, nodding his head towards the direction of the voice, 'We have to be careful."
A snarl curled Woody's lips and he violently pulled his arm from Drew's and strode forward. He didn't however, walk blindly in. Instead, he stuck the hand holding the gun around the door and fired twice, grinning in satisfaction as the pain filled holler that greeted him. Seconds later, he, however, was the one who yelled as the pipe slammed down on his retracting arm, making him drop the gun.
Woody gritted his teeth against the pain as he flattened his back against the wall, gingerly touching his purpling wrist. He had more cause to be upset seconds later, however, when a man appeared suddenly in the doorway, shooting Drew in the thigh and Max in the lower abdomen. But, before Max fell, he hit the trigger of his own gun, the bullet impacting in the man's chest, as did the round Woody fired with his back-up moments later.
"Oh, tut, tut, tut, Mr. Police-Man," Digger called, "You killed my partner! Well, you know what they say Officer-an eye for an eye." He gave a sadistic laugh, "After I kill you, maybe I'll go have some fun with Jordan."
"You even try to touch her you sadistic bastard and I'll kill you in the most painful way possible." Woody growled, completely forgetting the pain in his hand at the thought of anyone hurting his Jordan.
"ooh, touchy, touchy: Digger said with a maniacal giggle, "But, you know, Mr. Police-Officer, I already did touch Jordan,-so does that mean that you're going to kill me now, or when I touch her again?"
Woody saw red. Crouching down, he swept up Max's gun and walked into the house, hitting the lone man square between the eyes before he could even react.
Woody stalked forward, guns still aimed and kicked
Digger's lifeless body for good measure. From outside came the
sudden, shrill sounds of police and ambulance sirens. Knowing his
brother, Max and Drew were now in good hands, he moved quickly deeper
into the house, searching for his Jordan.
Jordan had quickly-or, at least, as quickly as her battered body had let her- moved back down the stairs as the gunfire started, a terrible panic having taken over her. Hating herself for letting Digger's rape of her and his earlier beatings make her so jittery, she carefully slipped under the stairs, settling into the pile of rags and gripping a pipe in her hands: she might hate herself for her fear, but she wasn't prepared to overcome it.
She couldn't help but wince at the muffled, upraised voices or the gunshots. As silence fell, she gripped the pipe tighter, rising hesitantly to her feet. She let out a soft, scared cry as she heard the last gun shot, shrinking back into the shadows with fright, suddenly overcome with fear.
She sank back against the wall, both legs bent slightly up to her chest, She pressed her palms to her ears, whimpering as she rocked slightly, locking out all noise. Because of this, she missed Woody's frantic voice calling her name, as well as the voices of others.
The doorknob of the basement was jiggled fiercely and Woody yelled, "Jordan! Jordan, are you in there? Can you here me? Baby, please, answer me!"
Jordan's whimpering grew louder, trying to block out all the loud, scary noises. Suddenly, she was little again, in her dark room with the scary shadows. But she couldn't go wake mommy and daddy-mommy needed her rest and daddy needed her to be a big girl.
So she rocked and whimpered in the dark all
Woody heard the loud whimpering and knew something was wrong. It wasn't an animal whimper, but it couldn't be Jordan either. Jordan didn't whimper-Jordan didn't even cry! But…who else could it be…?
Panic rose in his chest and, desperately, Woody crashed his body into the door. The white wood splintered under his weight and Woody kicked away the extra wood before squeezing himself through. He stood on the top stair, one hand on the rail as he impatiently waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark.
When they finally did, he swept the area quickly with his eyes. When they came up empty, he growled in frustration, thinking he must have been imagining things and turning to go before he was stopped by a by a scared, pained whimper.
Eyes dancing with realization, he ran quickly, but lightly, down the stairs. He crouched next to the bottom of the stairs, staring at his Jordan, gulping in pain and anger as he took her in.
She was pressed tightly to the wall, hands clasped to her ears as she whimpered in pain and fear. Her face was covered in tear streaks and dirt, her eyes screwed shut and face filled with pain. Her body was covered in scrapes and bruises-visible through the ripped tatters that had been a flowery white skirt and a muscle shirt.
"Jordan." He called out gently, "Jordan, baby, it's me."
But Jordan just shook her head, whimpering, "No! No, no, no, no! I want mommy! I want daddy!"
Woody leaned in further, letting his hand brush her cheek softly as he murmured, "Jo, sweetheart, it's okay now. I'm here, baby, he can't hurt you anymore. Jo, open your eyes, it's me. It's Woody."
Jordan's rocking slowed and her eyes opened as she stared at him in disbelief, her hands lowering slowly as she whispered incredulously, "Woody?"
"Yea, Jo," woody said softly, eyes brimming with tears, "I'm here. You're safe, sweetheart, I've got you now."
Jordan stared at him, eyes big with fear and uncertainty before she whimpered, "I'm scared, Woody."
"Oh, Jo," Woody whispered, carefully crawling into the small crawlspace and gently taking the woman into his arms. Gently, he kissed the top of her head before dipping his head to whisper into her ear, "I'm so sorry I sent you away, Jordan. I didn't mean it-really, I didn't. I love you, Jordan Cavanaugh, I really do."
Jordan pulled back slightly to stare at his face, one hand fisting his shirt, the other coming up to rest gently on Woody's face as she whispered, "Oh, Woody, I love you too!"
"Of course you do," he teased gently, dropping a light kiss on her nose, "Who doesn't love me?"
Jordan giggled, before arching her eyebrow at him and demanding in only the way Jordan can, "Aren't you going to finally kiss me properly, Hoyt?"
"Damn straight Cavanaugh," he grinned, gently bringing her lips to his.
This kiss was even better than the one in LA. It was sweet, gentle and loving and yet hard and passionate at the same time. It was, in simplicity, the meeting of souls, a melding of two into one.
When they pulled back, they stayed in each others' arms until the yelling of the police, paramedics and Morgue employees caused them to stir.
Jordan smiled gently up at the man she loved, saying simply, "Bring me home, Woody. Bring me home."
A/N Oh my, I think I'm gunna cry! I can't believe it's over-I loved writing for you guys:'( Waah! Lolz, well, ya never know, maybe I'll write a new one soon (after all, how could ANY true CJ fan live with the pairings they've got on the show now? I mean COME ON, EVERYONE knows Woody and Jordan belong together, it's DESTINY people! GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEADS! Okay, now that that's off my chest, back to the subject at hand, lolz)
Anyway, thanks bunches and bunches to:
Stonecoldfox: thanks, I love the 'tude too!
L'ilmissnitpick: lol, we do only have Timmy's in Canada, but, being Canadian, I strongly believe in the fact that TIMMY'S KICKS STARBUCKS ASS! Lolz
Jinubean: lol thanks, the action-battle things are actually pretty hard to right! Glad you like it!
And any and every one else who reviewed me and was not recognized for it-I love you guys! You all rock my boat!