Disclaimers: I don't own 'The Rookies' and I never will.

Summary: Mike begins the arduous task of helping Jill recover five lost years of her life as she in turn struggles to remember a life that is completely alien to her.

Chapter 4: The Struggle Begins

Jill continued to stare at Mike and the doctor, who'd entered the room behind him, her brown eyes clouded with confusion and fear. She tried to speak, to form the word 'Who?' but no sounds would come out of her throat. Her frustration started to build once again as she began yanking at her restraints, shaking the entire bed in the process. She was clearly enraged and badly frightened.

"Jill, you need to relax. If I remove your restraints, will you calm down?" The doctor slowly asked as she stared at him and nodded. "I need to perform a couple of tests, anyway, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room, Mr. Danko."

"I want to stay," Mike announced stubbornly.

"I know that you do, but this will only take a couple of minutes and then you can come back in," the doctor waited until Mike left the room. He then noticed that his patient visibly relaxed as soon as he stepped out. "Do you understand everything that I'm saying to you?"

Jill felt like telling the doctor that she was mute, not stupid. But again, no sounds would come out, so she simply nodded. This seemed to please the doctor because he smiled broadly, showing coffee stained teeth.

"That's very good. Now I need for you to take your right hand and push my hand down to the bed," he said after he removed the restraints.

She couldn't even lift her right hand, much less do what he expected her to do. When he repeated the request and asked her to use her left hand, she was able to push his hand down easily. He then moved to the end of the bed and asked her to push against his hand using both feet. Again her right foot was almost useless, while her left worked normally. She watched as he made notes on a chart. She wanted to ask him what was going on. She didn't know what she was doing here, but she wondered if Cleve had something to do with it. Maybe he'd finally hit her too hard.

"I'll be back in just a minute," he suddenly announced as he left the room. He found Mike standing against the wall with Terry. "Things are bad, but they're not hopeless."

"How bad?" Mike asked.

"Right now her ability to speak is compromised. However, she is trying to get the words out, which is a good sign. With therapy, hopefully we can have her forming simple sentences fairly soon. However her entire right side is almost non-functioning."

"Doctor, she pressed into both mine and Terry's hands with her right hand," Mike pointed out.

"Yes, but you also both said that it was a very light touch. I'll arrange to get her into physical therapy immediately, but as soon as she recovers sufficiently, I'd like to have her moved out to Rancho Mirage Rehabilitation Hospital. They're experts in their field. Their best therapist works here part-time and I'm going to assign him to Jill. His name is Paul Clay. He's tough, but he'll get her back on her feet."

"Can I go back in?"

"That's the other thing that I want to talk to you about. There's a possibility of memory loss. I noticed when you left her room, her whole body relaxed. I'm not sure that she remembers you, Mr. Danko. But until she can tell us, we're not going to know for sure. Right now, I'm going to go to the therapy unit and see if I can find a word board. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"A word board?" Terry looked at Mike.

"I think it's one of those boards that people with severe cerebral palsy use to communicate. It has commonly used words and phrases on it. The person just points to what they want to say."

Jill was lying in bed trying to sort out what was going on when the doctor re-entered the room carrying a large object. She stiffened up when she saw that the doctor had been followed by the same strange man who'd been in her room earlier. "Jill, can you read the words on the board?" The doctor asked as he placed the large board across her lap.

She looked at the words on the board. There were hundreds of commonly used words and phrases as well as the alphabet. Again she wondered if the doctor thought that she was a moron. Sure, she'd left school when she was 14, but she'd learned to read and write long before she did. Not everybody who lived in the South was a hick. She looked at him and nodded before pointing at Mike with her left hand and hitting the word 'Who?' repeatedly.

Mike's heart sank as he realized what she was asking him. Terry and the doctor were right. Her eyes looked right through him, as if he were a stranger. Her eyes had always lit up when she'd seen him. Jill's eyes were staring through him with a mixture of fury and confusion. "Who am I?" He asked as she nodded and tapped the board again. "I'm Mike, baby," he whispered as she continued staring at him with burning eyes.

"Mr. Danko, take it easy. If you get upset, you're just going to upset her. Don't make her think that she's done something bad," the doctor warned in a low voice as he watched Jill studying the board.

She tapped the board to get Mike's attention. When he looked at her, he watched as her fingers moved down to the alphabet and spelled out the five letters that he'd been dreading. "Cleve?"

"What's she asking about?" The doctor asked.

"Can I talk to you outside for a minute?" Mike asked. "We'll be right back." He led the doctor outside and closed Jill's door. "The guy that she's asking about is a former boyfriend. He was killed a couple of months ago. What should I tell her?"

"For right now, the best plan might just be to stall her. When she's stronger, and can handle it better, that's what you can tell her the truth," the doctor advised him.

Jill knew that something was wrong gauging by that Mike guy's reaction when she'd asked about Cleve. Maybe he was in jail. Maybe that had something to do with why she was here. She looked at her arms and could see bruises that were still deep shades of black, blue, and purple. Maybe Trap had finally grown some balls and called the cops on him.

She looked up at Mike. Once again she pointed at Mike and then at the word 'Who?'

"Mike, remember?" He asked as she shook her head furiously. "Take your time. What is it that you want to ask me?"

She just kept tapping the word 'who' over and over as he looked confused. She felt like screaming at him 'Who's being the moron now?' She finally tapped her finger to her chest before pointing at Mike again and then the word 'who?' once again. "You want to know how we know each other?" He asked as she nodded, seemingly relieved that she'd finally gotten through to him. "We're married. We've been married for four years now."

This news sent Jill into a tailspin. If she was married to Mike, then where was Cleve? She pointed at Mike and then at the word 'year.'

"It's 1974," he answered as she swept the board off of her lap in a fury. "Jill, you need to calm down."

In her head, she was screaming. But the only sounds coming out were guttural noises. A nurse came into the room with a needle. As soon as the needle entered her arm, the room instantly went black.

The doctor was standing by the wall talking to Terry when Mike walked out. "It's a little too much for her to process," the doctor sympathized. "Give it some time. Everything will come back to her. The important thing is not to force news on her that she isn't ready for."

"She was fine until I told her what year it was. That was when she lost it."

"In her mind, she's lost . . . I don't know how many years of her life. When was she last with this Cleve person?"

"Nineteen sixty-nine."

"She thinks that five years of her life have just disappeared and she doesn't understand where the time has gone. You have to understand that as frustrating as this is for you, it's probably ten times worse for her. At least you have a voice and can verbalize what you're thinking. Right now she can't. Since she's now awake, I'll have to curb your visitation schedule. She'll be in therapy a large part of her day, so I'll have to ask you to visit her in the afternoon after three."

***MJMJMJ***

Early the next morning, an orderly came into Jill's room and put her in a wheelchair before taking her to the elevator. They went upstairs to a room that was filled with exercise equipment. There were parallel bars, weights, stretchers, large balls, and mats covering the floor. Her eyes widened in horror when a huge man approached them. He was at least six foot four, and weighed about 250 pounds. His shirt stretched tightly over his huge biceps. "You must be Jill. I'm Paul," he introduced himself as he lifted her out of the wheelchair as easily as if she was a rag doll. "Thanks, Tony," he thanked the orderly. "I think I've got it from here."

"Okay, Paul," the orderly said as he walked away.

"Now right now you might be thinking that I'm your new best friend. But I can guarantee that your opinion of me is going to change quickly. I'm tough and I'm mean. In a few weeks, I intend to have you on your feet and walking between those bars over there," he pointed as he laid Jill on a rubber mat and sat down at the end of it.

Without her board, Jill felt helpless. She didn't know how she could make this big man understand that she couldn't walk. Her right arm and leg felt as if they were made of rubber. She'd tried forcing them to work the night before, but nothing happened. She winced as Paul took her left leg and began painfully pressing it against his shoulder.

"I can't do all of the work, Jill. I need for you to push back," he said as she shook her head. "Don't start giving me attitude! You've only been here for five minutes! Anyway, save the attitude for when you can really tell me to kiss off. I don't understand gestures! Now push back against me!"

She still didn't feel as if she was doing anything, but Paul seemed pleased so she must've been doing something right.

After working on her left side for 15 minutes, he switched to her right arm and leg. Her right hand was clenched into a tight fist, which he worked on straightening out. She groaned in pain as he uncurled her fingers. "I'm disappointed in your doctor and nurses, Jill. They should've been doing this while you were in a coma. I'll order a brace for this hand before you leave today so that you won't be able to curl your hand back up. Push on my hand," he instructed as he watched her hand involuntarily curling back up. "No! concentrate on keeping your fingers straight! Keep your hand opened! Listen to me! This is the hand that you write with! How can your occupational therapist put a pen in your hand if it's permanently closed?"

She felt like telling this Neanderthal that she wasn't closing her hand on purpose. It was as if it had a will of its own. She decided to just grit her teeth and show him that she could push his stupid hand away.

Once again, Paul pressed her hand against his, forcing her fingers to stay opened this time. "Push on my hand," he said as he felt a slight pressure against his hand. "That's not bad, but I know that you can do so much better. Should I piss you off? My patients seem to do much better when I make them angry."

'I wonder why' she would've said if her voice would work. But, of course, her mouth was useless. She couldn't understand how she knew what she wanted to say, but couldn't get the signal from her brain to her mouth.

She remained with Paul all morning as he continued to torture her with his stupid exercises. By the time she was returned to her room for lunch, she was sore and out of sorts. She'd just been placed in her bed when the nurse walked in with her lunch tray. "Are we ready for lunch?" The nurse asked cheerfully as she placed the tray on the table and rolled it in front of Jill.

'I don't know. Are we?' She felt like asking as she stared down at what was supposed to be passing for lunch. How'd they expect her to eat if she couldn't use both hands? Shouldn't somebody be in here helping her? Already angry by the grueling therapy session, she picked up the tray in her left hand and heaved it toward the door.

"Whoa! Nice aim! What's going on?" Mike entered the room, narrowly missing the flying tray. He walked up to the bed and handed her the word board from off of the floor. He could see tears of anger building in her eyes, but he was afraid to comfort her. He was afraid of being rejected by her.

"Nobody helped me eat," her fingers flew over the board as Mike watched.

"I see. Well, if you'd waited five more minutes, I would've been here and I would've helped you."

They both looked toward the door as the nurse re-entered the room, having heard the crash from the tray hitting the door frame. "I see that we've made a mess."

Jill simply glared at the nurse and gave her the finger. Mike put his hand over his face to keep from laughing, even though deep inside his heart was breaking at the condition that his wife was now in. "Just clean it up and leave us, please," he told her.

"I thought that you weren't supposed to be here until after three, Mr. Danko. Doctor's orders," the nurse reminded him haughtily as she left the room to summon an orderly.

"Why after three?" She hit the words on her board as she looked at him.

"You're supposed to be in therapy all day," he explained as she hit more words. He looked at her after he read what she was saying. "What do you mean 'no more?' Jill, you have to go to therapy. You're not going to get better if you don't."

"Hurts. Paul's mean," she answered as she looked at him.

"I think it's supposed to hurt," he tried to explain as he watched her left hand. "Baby, I'll tell you why he isn't here in a few days. I brought something to show you."

He removed some pictures from his jacket and held them out to her. She slowly accepted them in her left hand and laid them on top of the board. They were pictures of someone who looked a lot like her and Mike. He was wearing a green uniform while she was wearing a long white dress with a red and blue embroidered bodice with her long hair swept up on top of her head and tied with a white ribbon. "When?" She tapped the word on the board.

"These were taken on our wedding day," he started to explain as he saw her face darken. "I know that you don't remember." He watched as she held up her left hand. "You want to know where your rings are?" She nodded. "They're at home. Do you want me to bring them to you?"

She shook her head and began tapping away on the board. Her fingers were flying so fast that he had trouble following her. 'How can I be married to you if I live with somebody else? I don't even remember you!'

"You know what? We'll talk about all of that later. I know that you have speech therapy in about 20 minutes," he glanced at his watch as he got up to leave. "I'll come back later."

He turned from the door when he heard her frantically banging on the board to get his attention. He walked back over to her bed to see what she was trying to ask him. 'I'll talk today?' She looked up at him expectantly.

"No, probably not today," he said as her face fell. "I don't know when you'll talk again, but hopefully it'll be soon. I'll see you again in a few hours."

After he left, she continued staring at the pictures that he'd left her on the board. It was definitely her and it was definitely him, but she didn't know him from the Man in the Moon. It was dangerous for this strange man to visit. What if Cleve came by and caught him? That strange man had to be lying. How could they be married when she didn't even remember him?

She held out her left hand and examined her third finger. She could see a tan line from where she'd obviously been wearing a ring. She reached over for her call button and rang it. The nurse who'd been in her room earlier came in, followed by an orderly, who began cleaning up the mess from her ruined lunch. "What do you need, Jill?" The nurse asked in a brusque tone.

'That man who was just in here," she tapped out on the board. 'What's his last name?'

"Danko," the nurse answered. "Mike Danko. He's a huge favorite around here. Him and his friends. It's mainly because of you."

'How because of me?'

"You're a nurse here, Jill.'

A nurse? Now she was really confused. How could she be a nurse when she hadn't even finished high school? All of this information was too confusing to process.

***MJMJMJ***

Jill found that she liked her speech therapist very much. Her name was Lydia Green, and she wasn't mean like Paul. They sat across from each other at a small table while Lydia held up different objects and encouraged Jill to makes noises to make the objects move. "The words are there, Jill. You can hear them in your head, can't you?" She asked as Jill eagerly nodded her head. "That's wonderful! The trick is getting them to go from your head and out of your mouth."

The 'wh' sound was the sound that Lydia worked on the hardest since Jill seemed to want to know everything. She knew that if Jill could get those question words out of her mouth, the rest would quickly follow.

"Reporters call the question words the 5 W's. Who, what, where, when, and why. In your brain, these words are like the keys to the kingdom. If you can get them out, I think it'll unlock the rest of the words in your brain."

For days, Jill would sit on her bed following her therapy sessions with Lydia. With a mirror propped up on her tray table, she'd make the 'wh' sounds with her mouth. The first word she finally managed to get out of her mouth was 'where.' The sound of her voice scared her so badly that she almost knocked the mirror onto the floor. She'd almost forgotten what she sounded like. Now maybe she could talk to Mike without that stupid, annoying board that took up so much room. She had no way of knowing that talking with the board would be a picnic compared to what was going to come when she actually tried to speak.