TITLE: Hold on
GENRE: Angst, General
SPOILER: 5.03 (starts with the end of “Under the weather”)
SUMMARY: Jordan needs someone to comfort her, and Garret is the one who is able to show her that she is not alone, that there are still people in her life, who cares.
DISCLAIMER: Nothing’s mine. I borrowed all Crossing Jordan characters and plots from Tim Kring, and I will return everything to them after having some fun.
A/N: My entry for the Challenge on Livejournal Community cjrareathon. The quote, which had to inspire me in any way, was “A woman wears her tears like jewelry.
Inspired also by Garretelliot’s “As time goes by”. A really great story. I like the pairing she chose ;-) (Check it out on fanfiction.net…)
Thank you very much, garretelliot
for your big, big help!!
“Hold on. Just hold on!” That’s what I told her, earlier, when we found her and the kids down in the mine.
I’m not sure, if she knows that I meant it. I meant every word: “Hold on - for now, for ever, for the rest of your life.”
Some days are worse than others are, and today was one of them. I was never before so worried about her as I was today. And I really was scared and angry. Scared because I thought she was dead, murdered or buried alive in the mine. And angry because she didn’t follow my rules – but this is something she never does. If she would, I know that I would be even more scared about her. If she would, she wouldn’t be that Jordan, I know, the Jordan I love in this very special way.
I watch her, standing there with this little boy, she rescued earlier. She looks tired, very tired, but she is still the Jordan, I know for so long. She doesn’t care much about herself; she only cares about others – as she does in the moment, comforting Todd. She hugs the little boy, tells him that he did a great job, and makes him feel proud.
But she is the one, who did this great job. She found and rescued the two boys, although she is still sick. Sick, tired and injured – I noticed this small bruise on her cheek, earlier. I know it’s nothing such important or dangerous, but it shows me that Jordan is vulnerable, too.
So does her expression. She tries to smile, show everyone that she is all right. But she isn’t. I know it, because I know her better than anyone else – maybe better than Woody or Max do.
I see him approach. I don’t know how to feel about this. I know that Jordan loves this guy. Finally, she realized it after he was shot. And if this day were before the shooting I would be glad for her. But now…
I’m not sure, if Woody is still worthy to be loved by her. He changed. Jordan’s little farm boy has changed completely. He is only half the man he was before. If I wanted to be unfair, I’d call him moron. But I know what the guy is going through. Being shot down, unsure, if he would ever be able to walk again, is one of the worst things that ever could happen to a man, a cop, especially when something similar happened to the cop’s dad.
I totally understand what Woody is going through, but I wish he would take Jordan’s hand, and let her lead him through this. I know she could be strong enough for both of them, as does Woody.
I see them talking for a while. Then Woody leaves her alone, and I can see the sad expression on her face again. For a tiny moment there seemed to be a flicker of hope in her eyes, but it vanished the moment Woody left her.
Now it’s my turn.
I step up to her and tell her that Danny is safe in the Boston General. I can see her relief. She really is glad that the boys are okay. Again, she only cares about others.
“That was stupid and reckless, what you did.” Even before I notice it, I’m playing the bad guy. I don’t want to, but I have to. This has to be discussed. And if we don’t do it now, we’ll never do it. “You know that. You don’t listen to me.”
She shakes her head, tries to explain. “Come on, Garret…”
“You do what you want.” Now it’s time to be her bestest girlfriend again. I can feel it and I no longer can hide it. “If you hadn’t this time, those boys wouldn’t be alive, right now.”
I can see that she tries to argue with me. But then she realizes what I just said. So do I. I’m not sure, if this was a clever move. But I couldn’t stop my words. And they are true. Everything is true, what I told her, and what I didn’t tell her.
“All in a day’s work,” she answers. “No big deal.”
Yes, she’s right. It’s our every day’s job; to bring some joy and happiness in other people’s life. This should be everyone’s job. And living like that is a big deal.
“I’m still your boss, and I’m telling you it was a big deal.” I lay both of my hands on her shoulders to steady her. “Own it.” This is something I mean, too. Jordan is doing big deals with nearly every breath she’s taking, every single day. But she doesn’t know it, does not acknowledge it. Someone has to tell her that she is important, that there are people, who care about her, who know that she is a great woman. I do. I care for her, maybe more than I should…
“I don’t know what I would have done, if something had happen to you.”
I swallow hard. Did I say that? It seems so. Jordan’s looking at me, with kind of shock in her eyes, shock and … tears. There are tears in her eyes, and she has to swallow hard, too. I shocked her and I think that just right now she realizes how dangerous it was, what she did earlier. She could have died. And it’s true; I wouldn’t have known what to do without her in my life. I need her to be there, every day. I need her and her stubbornness. Without her around, I wouldn’t know how to live on. I missed her during the eight weeks Slokum had my job. I missed Lily, Bug, Nigel and Sidney, too, but most of all I missed Jordan.
Jordan, the woman I’m hugging right now, the woman which takes hold of me, as if there will be no tomorrow. She needs someone to hold her, to comfort her right now. She needs me like the flowers needs the rain, like people need to breath. My arms are around her and hold her tight, scared that she will slip away, and relieved that she didn’t do this earlier.
Her body is shaking. She’s crying. There were only a few moment I ever saw Jordan cry. I don’t want her to be sad; I don’t want her to cry. She should be happy. She is still young and should enjoy her life. I pull her closer, bury my face in her hair, and comfort her – and me, too.
“Shh, don’t cry,” I whisper in her hair, unsure, if she can hear me. But it doesn’t matter. To be honest, I’m not sure, if I want her to hear my words. I want her to know that I care for her, that I’m there for her, but I also want her to know that I’m her boss, and that she has to respect me.
“Garret?” her low voice whispers in my ear. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Jordan. You’re welcome…,” I murmur, my face still buried in her hair.
I’m not sure for how long we stood there, holding each other, crying silent tears; tears of relief, of pain, of happiness. I don’t even register the people around us; police men, fire fighters, paramedics. For what seems like an eternity there is only Jordan and me; the bestest girlfriends, ever.
“Come on, I will get you a beer, or two,” I say after a while, putting some space between us. Carefully, I look at her. She is still shaking. Her eyes are red and swollen, as if she’d been crying for ages. Maybe she did. My heart is in my boots. She looks so tiny, so tender and vulnerable.
“That would be…nice.” Her voice fails, and she wipes back her tears, trying to hide them. But she doesn’t have to hide them. I know that they’re there and I like them.
I know that sounds stupid, even in my ears. But it’s true. I like seeing Jordan cry.
‘A woman wears her tears like jewelry,’ someone said, once. I’m not sure, if he meant what I think he meant, but for Jordan it fits. She looks even better with these swollen eyes and reddened cheeks. Cute, in her own special way…
I smile at her and lay one arm around her shoulder, to lead her to my car.
“It’s been a rough year, isn’t it?” I ask her, later that evening. We are sitting in this tiny bar, drinking scotch, and talking about all and nothing.
She nods. “That’s true.” The sadness in her eyes is back, and I regret my word, immediately.
It had been a rough year, indeed, for both of us, and I don’t know who hit the worst
jackpot; Jordan or I.
Thinking about what we both lost during this past year, I suddenly remember what my Mum told me each and every New Year’s Eve.
"If you think back and replay your year, if it doesn't bring you tears, either of joy or sadness, consider the year wasted.” *)
I think she was right.
Jordan smiles, when I tell her about this. “Your mother was a wise woman, Garret.” She says and lays one hand on my arm.
“Yes, she was,” I answer and pull Jordan closer. I loved my mother very much, and I miss her nearly everyday. She really was wise, and sometimes I think that she sent me Jordan as a replacement.
Jordan is in so many ways as my mother was. They’re both fixed points in my life, which tell me every day to hold on and wait for the sunshine after the rain.End *) I borrowed this sentence from David E. Kelley, who once used it once on Ally McBeal.