I do not own MacGyver, nor any of it's characters (except for Jena) from Paramount. I am not profiting from this, I'm simply writing this for my enjoyment, and hopefully, yours. J

Chapter 1- Unknown Territory

MacGyver wondered what he had gotten himself into as he opened the door to the classroom.

Pete had called him into the office, and asked if he wanted to be a part of a pilot project that Phoenix was launching. It was a program to help kids in remedial classes to become more active in class and learn about the environment. Mac had jumped at the chance. The original teacher, Mrs. McDougall, had gone into premature labour, and the principal was unable to get a replacement. Since there was only a month left of the school year, the superintendent of schools thought it was a good time for a test trial. Mac would be teaching a class full of Grade 9 students.

He walked into a class that was in total chaos. Students were talking in small groups, music was blaring from a radio, and they were yelling, tossing airplanes and spit balls. Mac looked over the class and saw that only one girl was in her seat. She was wearing torn jeans, and a slightly dirty t-shirt. Her shoulder length hair was tied back into a ponytail with an elastic. He smiled at her, and noticed that she had tired eyes when she smiled back at him.

Mac cleared his throat," Uh - class?"

No response. He scratched his nails across the chalkboard, producing an ear piercing screech that made everyone cringe. All the kids turned around to stare.

"Okay! Now that I have your attention. Could you please take your seats?"

The radio was switched off, and the students quickly found their seats.

"Thank you. My name is MacGyver, and I'll be your teacher for the rest of the semester. I'm going to be teaching you survival techniques in the forest, as well as basic first aid. And if you all pass, then you will be going camping for three days at the end of the course."

The excited shouts he heard from some of the students were mixed with moans from the others.

"Now, has anyone ever been in a situation where someone needed medical attention and they weren't sure of what to do?" Mac asked. He saw a few hands go up, and after consulting the seating chart, he called on Chris.

"Yeah…one time my friend and I were bike riding when….." .

For the remainder of the day, Mac and the students exchanged stories, well, all but the one girl Mac acknowledged when he walked in. When the bell rang, Mac asked Paulo, one of the more talkative students what her story was.

"Oh…her. She got here about three months ago. She's never spoken a word. She just sits there taking notes," he volunteered.

Mac thanked him, then gathered his notes and headed to the principal's office. He wanted to do a little background research on his students.

Jena put her headphones on and pressed play on her walkman. She wasn't happy here in Los Angeles, she missed Arizona. Her father had gotten into some kind of trouble there, and they had to move. Again. She couldn't remember the last time they stayed in one place for longer than six months. She was tired of moving. She hated where she was living, it was a dump. She lived with her dad on the second floor of an apartment building on the lower east side. The paint was peeling off the walls, mailboxes were broken, and it stunk, and that was just the building. In the apartment, doors were missing from the jambs, windows were missing or nailed shut, there were no fire detectors and often there was no hot water. But, it was a roof over her head, for now.

Mac carefully opened his door, balancing files and a briefcase in one hand and his mail in the other. He dumped everything on the table, then made a cup of tea and started reading the files on his students. Halfway through the pile, he realized that most of the them would benefit from the Challengers Club, in one way or another. He was disappointed when he opened Jena's file, there was very little information, just that she had transferred from Arizona from three months ago. Her marks were average, but she failed class participation constantly. The only relative listed was her father, Bill Hansen.

Jena closed the door to the apartment quietly. She knew her father was home, since she could hear snoring coming from the living room. She peeked in and saw her father sprawled out on the couch, clutching a half empty scotch bottle. He was about 5"9 and weighed 275 pounds. Sometimes it felt like he lived on the couch. He was 42 years old, but couldn't hold a job for longer than a few days. She put her book bag in her room, then went to the kitchen to start supper. The pickings were slim, to say the least, and she ended up making a tuna casserole. She couldn't eat it because of her allergies, but her dad sometimes liked it. She let the oven door slam a little too hard, and heard her father bellow from the living room.

"Jena, is that you? Get in here!"

"C-c-coming." She entered the living room, pushing the empty scotch bottles to the side so she could get through.

"What the hell are you making so much noise for?"

"T-t-the d-d-door s-s-slipped. S-s-sorry," she said quietly.

"What's for supper?" he growled.

"T-t-tuna c-c-casserole."

"Again! Can't you make anything else to eat?"

"T-t-there's n-n-nothing else I-I c-c-can m-m-make….t-t-there's h-h-hardly any f-f-f-food l-left."

"Don't get smart-mouth with me. I just gave you money for food a few days ago. Where did it go?"

"I-It w-wasn't a f-f-few d-days, it w-was o-over a w-w-week ago. And y-you o-only g-g-gave m-me $20."

Jena didn't even see the slap coming. She was down on the floor before she realized what happened. She got back on her feet, still feeling the sting in her left cheek.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"N-n-no d-d-dad. I'm n-not."

"Fine! Here's another $20 for groceries. Try not to lose it!"

"I-I w-w-won't."

She went back into the kitchen to check on the casserole. The oven only worked on high settings, so she had to make sure not to burn it. While she filled the sink up with water to do dishes, she opened the freezer door and took out the bottle of Vodka. He didn't like Vodka, but would drink it if he ran out of scotch. Either that, or he would drink mouthwash. She unscrewed the lid and took a long swig, with some of it dribbling down her cheek. Tears of frustrations streamed from her eyes, and she took another long drink.

"Is it ready yet?" he yelled.

She quickly put the bottle back, then checked on dinner, which was finally ready. She found a clean plate, and dished out a generous serving, then brought it to him. He took a few bites, then threw the dish down on the coffee table.

"You call this food! It tastes like crap! I'm going out!" he yelled, and stomped down the hall, slamming the front door.

Jena cleaned up the mess. She didn't feel like eating, even though she was a little hungry. Being slapped usually caused her to lose her appetite. She tucked the leftover casserole in the fridge, then got herself ready for the two mile walk to the grocery store.

Mac had felt rather hungry when he finally finished the files he had been reading. He had gone to make some dinner, and found that he was out of food, which was why he was in the grocery store now. He was picking out some green peppers when he saw a familiar figure grabbing a 10 pound bag of potatoes and putting it in her cart. He recognized the clothes, it was Jena. But she was wearing an extra baggy trench coat as well. He wondered what someone her age was doing out at this time of night, and decided to follow her. She stopped at the meat section, and selected a medium sized ham, which she made disappear into her coat. Mac couldn't believe his eyes. She also performed magic on a bag of chicken legs, and a small roast. He followed her into the cereal isle, and startled her when he approached her from behind, making her drop a box of crackers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You're Jena, right? Here you go," he reached down, then handed her the box of crackers.

Mac noticed that her right cheek was redder than the other. He had a hunch, but knew he couldn't do anything until he had confirmation.

"M-m-mr. M-m-macGyver. N-n-nice t-t-to s-s-see y-y-you," she said nervously.

"Ah. No Mr. Just MacGyver. Ok?"

Jena nodded.

"What are you doing here on a school night?" he queried.

"M-my d-d-dad h-h-had t-t-to g-go out, s-s-so I'm j-j-just p-p-picking up a f-f-few t-things."

"I noticed you put a few items into your coat. I know you probably need them. Would you at least let me pay for them? I don't want you getting arrested for it."

Jena hung her head down. She had been caught, and was extremely embarrassed. Mac lifted her chin with his finger.

"Look. It's okay. I know you probably wouldn't do it unless you had to. Let's just get it out of your coat before the clerk comes back."

She nodded, and while Mac gave her cover, she retrieved the items from the coat and placed them into the shopping cart.

"T-t-that's it," she said softly. He added up the cost of the meat, then fished a $20 bill out of his wallet.

"That should cover it."

"T-t-thanks. I'll p-pay y-y-you b-b-back as s-s-soon as I-I c-c-can."

"You don't have to pay me back. Just promise me you won't do that again. It's not worth it. If you need something, just ask me and I'll try to help. Okay?"

A tear streamed down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away.

"O-ok. I-I a-appreciate t-t-that."

Mac gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her shoulder.

Jena paid for the meat first, and tried to give Mac back his change.

"No. You keep it."

"B-b-but…."

"I insist. Don't worry about it. That's what friends are for? Right?"

Jena smiled, then paid for the rest of the groceries. She put the heavy stuff in her pack sack, and ended up with two small plastic bags to carry.

"Can I give you a ride home? Where do you live?" he queried, while he packed his groceries.

"N-n-near E-east T-t-third and S-s-san P-p-pedro S-s-street."

"You walked all that way at this time of night?" he asked, amazed.

"I-I a-always d-d-do. A-about once a-a w-week."

Mac was dumbfounded.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride home," he offered.

"O-o-ok. T-t-thanks."

Mac led her over to his truck, and he helped her lift her pack sack into the truck. "Gee that's heavy!" he exclaimed.

"I-it's n-not t-t-that b-b-bad. Y-you g-g-get used t-t-to it."

Mac just shook his head in amazement.

They both got into the truck and Mac easily found his way to her address. He grabbed the pack sack while she got the two bags.

"I-I c-c-can t-take it n-now."

"That's ok. I'll bring it up for you."

Jena was glad that he was carrying it, she was a little tired. On the other hand, she was embarrassed that he would see where she was living. She shrugged her shoulders and started up the stairs. Mac's senses were assaulted by the noises and smells. He could hear a number of conversations behind the paper thin walls, and some yelling as well. The putrid smell of urine and garbage was almost too much to bear. He swore he could see a rat or two hiding underneath all the garbage. Jena stopped in front of her apartment door and held out her hand for the pack sack.

"T-t-thanks f-f-for c-carrying it up."

"No problem and listen..." Mac scrawled out his work and home phone number on a piece of paper..." if you ever need to talk, or need some help, I want you to call me. Anytime. Okay?"

"S-s-sure M-mac. T-t-thanks a-a-again. S-s-see y-you t-t-tomorrow."

"Bright and early," replied Mac, as he headed down the stairs.

Once Jena knew he couldn't see inside, she unlocked the door and slipped into the apartment.

Mac had almost ran down the stairs to get away from the smell. 'How in hell does she handle it?' he thought to himself. He inhaled deeply when he got outside, feeling a little less nauseous as he breathed in the night air. He got behind the wheel of his truck and reflected on the evening. He just wished that there was more that he could do for her. But until she admitted something was wrong, he would have to wait on the sidelines until she reached out. He just hoped that she wouldn't ask for help when it was too late.

Jena was embarrassed that MacGyver had caught her shoplifting, but was glad he didn't turn her in. Somehow she would try to get $20 to pay him back. She memorized the two numbers MacGyver gave her, then tucked the paper away in her book bag. Her dad never snooped in there, as far as she knew. She quickly put away the groceries, then did some homework and went to bed.

Jena heard the front door slam and her father's footsteps tromping down the hall. She groaned when she looked over at the clock and saw that it was about 3:30 am. He had been coming in at this time of night more and more often and it was becoming to take it's toll on her. She was about to go back asleep when his voice boomed out.

"Jena! Get in here!"

She went to her dad's bedroom, where he was taking off his blood stained shirt. He rolled it into a ball then threw it at her.

"Get the blood out of that so I can wear it tomorrow! I like that shirt."

He laid down on the bed and opened another bottle of scotch.

"Ok dad," she said groggily.

She knew her dad had probably pissed someone off again, and ended up in a bar fight. It wasn't the first time. She let the shirt soak while she opened the freezer and took a drink of Vodka. It made her feel better sometimes. It took thirty minutes before she could get the stain out, and she hung it in the bathroom to dry. She passed her father's room on the way to hers, and found him passed out on the bed, still clutching the opened scotch bottle. Quietly she went in and extracted it from his hand, found the cap, and put it on the end table. She knew what the consequences would be if she didn't do it.