Disclaimers: I still don't own the show, just the storyline.
Summary: The trial of Albert Cummings starts as Jill continues asking questions. Mike makes a decision regarding the current sleeping arrangements.
A/N: Mike and Jill aren't going to reconnect just yet. I'm saving that for the next chapter.
A/N #2: If I repeat some things in this chapter, I apologize. But remember that we're dealing with a person suffering from short term memory loss. Some things have to be repeated to her over and over.
Chapter 13: The Trial and Beginning to Reconnect at Last
Jill had had a rough day. Therapy had been extremely painful, which caused her to fight Paul tooth and nail to leave her alone. "I know that you're in a lot of pain today," he noticed. "But you've come so far. Why do you want to stop now?"
"Because you're . . . hurting me!" She screamed as she tried to pull away from him.
"We're almost done. You can do your pool exercises this evening with Mike, okay? We'll skip the pool this morning," he continued working her leg.
"Liar!"
"We won't get in the pool this morning," he repeated. "Can I ask you something?" He asked as he continued working her through her exercises. "Why'd you stay with Cleve if he was so mean to you?"
She looked at Paul through hard eyes. How had he known about Cleve? Who'd told him? "What do . . . you know . . . about Cleve?"
"Mike told me that he knocked you into a swimming pool, which is why you're so scared of deep water. Why'd you stay with him?" He asked once again.
She'd never thought about why she'd stayed with him. She'd known him and his family for most of her life. She'd always thought of her grandfather as something akin to a slave driver, so when Cleve had asked her to go with him to California, she'd jumped at the chance. Anything sounded better than working her fingers to the bone from dawn to dusk seven days a week. It didn't take her long to realize that life on her grandfather's farm was paradise compared to life with Cleve. "I couldn't . . . leave."
"Why couldn't you leave? Did he keep you locked in a room or something?"
"Yes, sometimes. He told . . . me that . . . he'd kill me."
"And you believed him?"
"Yes. He kept . . . a gun by . . . the bed."
"So, how'd you meet Mike? He seemed to be the polar opposite of Cleve."
"I don't . . . remember."
"Do his police friends know how you met him? Maybe they could clue you in."
Willie and Terry. Jill hadn't thought about asking them. Being Mike's best friends, they probably knew his entire life story by heart. She'd have to ask them. "I never . . . thought of . . . asking them. Can you . . . call . . . them . . . for me?"
"Now?" Paul asked as she nodded eagerly. She was anxious to know more about Mike. She wanted to feel married to him, something that was still missing. "Let's finish up here and I'll see about calling them for you." After they finished, he looked up the number that Mike had left for his friends. He held the receiver out to her. "You dial. They're your friends."
***MJMJMJ***
Willie was at home reading the newspaper when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"Is this . . . Willie or . . . Terry?"
"This is Willie," he sat straight up. "Jill, is something wrong?" He was surprised that she was calling them.
"Can you . . . come over? You and . . . Terry?"
"Terry's on duty today. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that he's riding with Mike. Did you need to talk to both of us or will just one of us do?"
"Well . . . both of you . . . would be . . . better. But you . . . can answer . . . my questions."
"Okay."
She was in extreme pain when Willie arrived just over an hour later. She opted to wait to take something for the pain after he left. She didn't like using the pain killers very often, because they knocked her out and left her feeling disconnected for hours afterward. But sometimes she had to give in. She was sitting on the patio with her bare feet propped in a chair when Paul showed Willie outside. "Hi," he greeted her as he sat down. Normally, he'd kiss her on the cheek, but Mike had warned both him and Terry against doing that.
"Hi, do you . . . want some . . . lemonade?" She reached for a glass.
"I'll get it. You sound great," he smiled as he poured a glass of lemonade. "Now what's on your mind? Is Mike mistreating you? If he is, you're more than welcome to stay with us. You can have my room and I'll crash on the couch."
"No, Mike's been . . . great," she smiled, blushing slightly. "Do you . . . know all of . . . his . . . stories?"
"Which stories? The ones about you and Mike? Or the ones about you and Cleve?"
"What do . . . you know . . . about Cleve . . . and me?" Her voice rose a notch.
"Nothing, Jill. I'm sorry, that was stupid. Terry and I didn't even know that he was dangerous until right before we found you in those woods. You remember that, don't you?" He was unsure what she remembered as opposed to what Mike had told her.
"Mike told . . . me. I remembered . . . you and . . . Terry. He pointed . . . a gun . . . at both of . . . you."
"Terry was upset with you and Mike. But I guess that I shouldn't be telling you about that right now. What do you want to know about Mike?"
"He told . . . you how he . . . met me?"
"Some of it. He said that you were working in your uncle's bar. He also told me that you couldn't stand him when you first met him. He said that you referred to him as a pest," he grinned as Jill hung onto every word.
A pest. She had a flash of military khaki and a cap. "He told me . . . that I beat . . . him at pool."
"Oh, we never play pool against you," he shook his head in horror at the memory. "Can I tell you about the first time that I ever saw you?" Jill smiled and nodded. "Mike and I were patrolling right after we'd graduated. At dinnertime, we stopped at this bowling alley. He asked me to order something for him, and then he disappeared. I saw him talking to this beautiful woman for a very long time. When he came back, I commented that you were a 'nice looking chick.' He then told me that you were no 'chick,' that you were his wife. I had no idea that he was even married."
She frowned as another flash hit her. A police officer showing up while she was working. It had to have been Mike. She hadn't known any other cops. She'd never liked cops and Cleve had drilled it into her that cops were the enemy. "There was . . . a party. We went and . . . then Mike . . . disappeared."
"That would've been Officer Shaw's retirement party. The first thing I ever said to you was something about the fact that you never sleep. You got pissed," he smiled ruefully at the memory.
"So Mike . . . never told you . . . anything . . . that I . . . might have . . . told him . . . about Cleve?"
"No, Jill. Even after he got killed, Mike wouldn't tell us anything. Terry and I knew that Cleve was abusive by things that you've said over the years, but we don't know any details. Mike told us that we were better off not knowing the details. I admit that sometimes I'm morbidly curious, but what happened really isn't any of our business. Now what else do you want to know about Mike?"
"I have . . . dreams," she said as Willie poured another glass of lemonade.
"What do you dream about?"
"I don't . . . talk to Mike . . . about them. I don't . . . know if they're . . . real. I have . . . dreams about a . . . baby. Terry told me . . . that we . . . don't have . . . kids."
"Jill, you really should talk to Mike about that," he felt uncomfortable, not wanting to delve into something so painful about something that was clearly between Mike and Jill.
"Why?"
"Please just talk to him about that," he begged her.
***MJMJMJ***
The house was quiet when Mike arrived home late that afternoon. Paul was sitting on the back patio reading a magazine when Mike walked outside. "Where's Jill? Don't tell me that she's vanished on you again."
"No, she's resting. She's been in a lot of pain today. I gave her one of her pain pills, and she went to lie down. She's been asleep for about two hours now," he glanced at his watch. "Willie came over earlier and they visited for a while, but she was in agony by the time he left."
"I'll go look in on her. Those pills give her bad dreams, sometimes," he went back into the house. When he walked into the front bedroom, Jill was tossing and turning, her forehead beaded with sweat. He sat down and put his hand on her forehead. "Baby," he whispered as she jerked awake, staring at him fearfully. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
"Did I . . . scream?"
"No, I just walked in. Why? Were you having a bad dream?" He asked as she struggled to sit up. "Paul said that you were having a lot of pain today. Do you want me to call Dr. Conti?"
"No," she cuddled into him as he wrapped his arms around her. "You're very . . . patient."
"What're you talking about? What exactly did you and Willie discuss this afternoon? Did he say something to upset you?" He asked, concern etched into his eyes.
"We had . . . problems?"
"Jill, I'm confused. I think that I could also use a beer. Why don't I get a beer and we'll go down to the dock and feed the ducks. Then we can talk."
He grabbed a couple of beers and walked out with Jill to the dock where they took some stale bread from a bin and threw it into the water for the ducks. "Willie told me . . . about the . . . first time . . . he ever . . . saw me. At the . . . bowling alley. I don't think . . . we got . . . along very . . . well back . . . then."
"You were angry at me, for good reason. The last time that I went to Vietnam, I didn't write to you. I came here to California because I heard that you'd come out here with Trap. I didn't think that you were going to come back and live with me. I thought that I was going to have to get on my knees and beg you," he smiled at the memory.
"That's what you . . . meant when . . . you said . . . that you'd . . . fucked up?" She looked at him as he nodded. "Mike . . . I keep having . . . these dreams. Willie got very . . . upset when I . . . asked him about . . . it. Did we . . . have a . . . baby?" She looked at him as he gave her a sharp glance.
"You were pregnant," he said slowly as he took a long drink of his beer. "But you lost it. It happened right before Cleve came back."
"When I was . . . with Cleve . . . I was . . . always afraid of . . . that. He'd never . . . let me keep . . . a baby."
"Maybe that was a good thing. I've seen what he's done to you. I don't even want to think about what he'd do to a baby. Now, what were you saying earlier about me being patient?"
"This can't . . . be easy for . . . you. We had a . . . life that . . . I can't . . . remember. There was an . . . accident . . . that I can't . . . remember! Now I . . . find out . . . that there . . . was a baby . . . that I can't . . . remember!" The last word came out as a sharp scream as he jumped to his feet.
"Baby, it's okay. Calm down," he put his hands on her shoulders as he stared into her eyes. "I'm not even going to pretend that I understand how frustrated you are. And you're right. Maybe I am extremely patient. But it's because I love you so much. But inside every day, my heart aches for you. For us. I have to get on the stand in a couple of weeks and tell a courtroom full of people how much you struggle every day."
"Why?"
"So that the man who did this to you will go to prison for a very long time."
"You're scared?"
"No, I've testified before. I just don't want people to tear you apart since you've been trying so hard to get your life back."
"I can testify," she insisted.
"No, baby. It's already been decided."
"Can I go? To the . . . trial?"
"I really don't think that's a good idea," he rubbed her shoulders.
"You know . . . everything?"
"Everything about what?"
"About Cleve? I told you . . . everything?"
"No, I don't know everything. You've made it very clear that there are some things that you might not ever be ready to tell me. But I know that he used to beat you. And I know about the nights," he stopped when he felt her starting to shake violently in his arms.
"I told you . . . about that? You told . . . Willie and . . . Terry?"
"No, baby. They don't know anything about that. And they never will. That will always be just between us."
"You still . . . love me . . . after I told . . . you? You still . . . wanted to . . . be with me?"
"Let's sit back down," he helped her into a nearby lawn chair as he sat at her feet, taking her hands in both of his. "My friends thought that I was crazy. My father thought that I was even more so. One of my friends even accused me of just wanting to rescue you. All of this was before I knew how bad it had been with him. You kept telling me that you could never tell me because I'd leave you if I knew."
"I was afraid," she remembered. "Every day . . . in that house. The daytime . . . was okay. He'd just . . . hit me," Mike winced at her words. "Mike . . . believe me . . . when I say . . . that I'd . . . rather have . . . him beat me . . . rather . . . than what . . . happened at . . . night. At night . . . when it got . . . dark I'd want . . . to hide. Or take . . . his car keys . . . and run away. I can't be . . . believe . . . I told you. Why?"
"Sometimes I think it's because I pushed you into it. Maybe I was too damn curious. I don't really know why you told me. It sounds kind of sick and twisted when I think about it now."
"The dream . . . that I had . . . about my . . . wrists. Did I tell . . . you about that?"
"When I asked about your wrists, for a long time you joked and said that it seemed like a good idea at the time. Finally, you told me that you were drunk and it was just something that you decided to do. Trap was the one who rushed you to the emergency room. He didn't know that they were going to lock you up on the psych ward for 72 hours."
She thought back. She remembered being restrained to a bed. She also remembered not wanting to see Trap when he visited her. "I was . . . mad at Trap?"
"Yeah, because you thought that he'd had you locked up on purpose. Trap told me that if he knew that they were going to lock you up, he would've found a way to stitch you up himself."
"I wasn't . . . mad at him . . . because of the . . . lock-up," she said as Mike stared at her. "He said . . . that he was . . . taking me . . . back to . . . Alabama. He was supposed . . . be take me . . . to my . . . grandfather," she remembered as he bit back a smile. "I made him . . . take me to . . . Uncle Ray . . . instead."
"That's exactly what happened," he smiled as he rubbed her fingers.
"I'm very tired," she suddenly announced as she struggled to get to her feet.
He helped her to her feet, knowing that she'd had enough for one day. He knew that she was still trying to come to terms regarding her relationship with Cleve. He knew that she was still upset that night when she didn't want him staying with her. "Are you sure?" He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm tired. I just want . . . to be left . . . alone."
"I'll see you in the morning, then," he kissed her on the forehead before leaving the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.
***MJMJMJ***
Since Mike was a witness in Albert Cummings' trial, he couldn't sit in the courtroom to watch the other witnesses testify. As one of the first officers on the scene, Willie was one of the first to testify for the prosecution. He was sworn in and took his seat on the stand.
"Please state your name and occupation for the record," the D.A. instructed him.
"William Andrew Gillis. I'm a police officer for the SCPD."
"Officer Gillis, will you please tell the court how you came to be acquainted with the defendant?"
"My unit was called to the scene of a traffic accident to direct traffic."
"What was your initial job at the scene?"
Hadn't he just said why he was there? Sighing, he answered the question, "We were there to direct traffic away from the scene of the accident."
"What happened when you arrived on the scene?"
Could this guy be any more redundant? "Fire and Rescue said that they needed help finding victims inside of the bus. My partner and I decided that I'd help them while he continued directing traffic."
"What happened when you entered the bus?"
"One of the firemen had handed me a red magic marker and he instructed me to mark any bodies that I found in the wreckage with the marker. I was instructed to only look for living victims."
"How'd you enter the bus?"
"The bus was on its side so I had to climb down a ladder through a broken window."
"Did you initially find any survivors?"
"No, sir."
"How many bodies did you find before you found any survivors?"
"I marked four bodies," he took a deep breath, trying to erase the horrors of that day.
"Tell the court about finding Mrs. Danko."
"Objection! Sidebar, your honor!" Cummings' lawyer ordered as the judge motioned both attorney's to the bench. "Your honor, Officer Gillis is a close, personal friend of Officer and Mrs. Danko. I object to this line of questioning due to the witness' state of mind at the time that he found her body."
"Mrs. Danko isn't a body, your honor. She survived the accident," the D.A. glared at his opponent.
"Your objection is sustained, Mr. Miller. Step back."
"Officer Gillis, where did you find Mrs. Danko?" The D.A. resumed his questioning.
"Under a pile of bus seats and other debris."
"How did you know that it was Mrs. Danko?"
"I recognized a bracelet that she always wore."
"Did you find any other survivors after you helped remove Mrs. Danko from the bus?"
"No, sir."
"No further questions," the D.A. stepped back.
"Good morning, Officer Gillis," Mr. Miller greeted pleasantly as he approached the witness stand.
"Good morning," Willie answered warily.
"When you arrived at the scene of the accident, were you aware that your good friend had been a passenger on the bus?"
"Objection!"
"Overruled. Watch your tone, Mr. Miller."
"What did you do after you found Mrs. Danko?"
"I informed my partner and we went to tell her husband."
"What was your emotional state when you went to inform Officer Danko of his wife's accident?"
"I was upset," Willie admitted.
"Did you make any comments to my client?"
"I've never spoken to your client."
"Did Officer Danko make any comments about my client when you told him what had happened?"
"I don't think so. At least not in my presence."
"But he could've said something outside of your presence?"
"I suppose so, but I don't know."
"No further questions," Mr. Miller said as he went and sat back down leaving Willie feeling puzzled and confused.
"You may step down, Officer Gillis."
Mike was pacing the hallway when Willie stepped out of the courtroom. "How'd it go?" He asked.
"I'm not sure. His attorney asked me if you'd said anything about Cummings. Mike, did you threaten him in any way?"
"I said something to the TV people the day of the arraignment. Ryker called me out on the carpet for it. I haven't said anything to him since."
"Is Jill okay? She was upset yesterday when I left. Mike, if I said or did anything to upset her, I apologize."
"She had a rough morning and was in a lot of pain. It wasn't anything that you did. She's starting to remember things and some of the memories are upsetting to her. I was thinking that maybe we could barbecue this weekend."
"That sounds great to me. I'll let Terry know."
***MJMJMJ***
Jill was sitting on the dock with her feet dangling toward the water when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to find Terry standing there. "Hi," he sat down beside her. "Willie was telling me that you wanted to play 20 questions with us. I thought that you'd be busy this morning with therapy."
"I'm done. You're . . . off?"
"Yeah. Willie and Mike are in court today, so I thought that I'd come out here and see you. How are you doing?"
"Terry . . . Mike and I . . . should've warned . . . you about . . . Cleve. I should've . . . warned you. When I was . . . away from him . . . I'd forget. That's what . . . happened."
"I don't know much about him and from the little that Mike's said, I'm not sure that I want to know. Did you love him?"
"No, fear . . . was what . . . kept me there. He kept . . . a gun . . . beside the bed. He said . . . that if . . . I ever left . . . he'd find me . . . and kill me."
"But you did leave," he pointed out to her.
"I was supposed . . . to have died . . . that day. That was . . . my plan. I knew that . . . Cleve . . . wouldn't take . . . me to the . . . hospital. Trap was . . . a mouse. All of the . . . bikers called . . . him a mouse. He always just . . . stood in a . . . corner and never . . . made a sound."
"So you knew that Cleve wouldn't take you to the hospital and you thought that Trap would be too scared to," he made sure that he understood as she nodded.
"I guess you . . . could say that . . . Trap gave me . . . Mike," she smiled.
"Mike is so insanely crazy about you that at times it makes me sick. He talks about you non-stop. This has been so hard on him," he sighed.
"I know. I think he . . . gets mad sometimes . . . when I don't . . . remember. Terry . . . I don't like . . . remembering . . . Cleve. Those times . . . were awful. He'd do things . . . to me . . . "
"Stop," he held his hand out. "I don't want to know. Whatever he did to you isn't any of my business. That part of your life is between you and Mike."
"Mike told me . . . that we were . . . going to have a . . . baby. He said that . . . I lost our . . . baby. Do . . . you know . . . how?"
"Jill, I really think that you should talk to Mike about that."
"It was . . . awful?"
"Yeah, it was awful," he confirmed.
"What time is . . . Mike testifying?"
"I'm not sure. Probably after lunch. Why?" He hoped that she wasn't thinking of wanting to talk to him now about the restaurant shooting, of all things.
"Take me . . . to the . . . courthouse," she demanded.
"I'm not sure that's such a great idea."
"I was awful . . . to him last . . . night. I need to . . . be with him."
"Are you sure that you want to do this?" He asked as he helped her to her feet.
"Yes. Let me . . . get my shoes. Then we'll . . . tell Paul."
***MJMJMJ***
Back at the courthouse, Dr. Conti was now and the stand. The questions started after he was sworn in and gave his name and credentials. "Dr. Conti, you worked on a number of the victims that were brought in that afternoon, did you not?"
"Yes, sir."
"What was the extent of the more serious injuries that you assessed that afternoon?"
"I treated everything from concussions, severed spinal cords to severe brain injuries."
"Are you currently treating any of the survivors for neurological injuries?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is the prognosis of that particular patient?"
"She's recovering, but it's been a slow, arduous process."
Mike was out in the hallway when Terry stepped off of the elevator with Jill. "Terry, have you lost your mind? What's she doing here?" He hissed as Terry and Jill strolled over to him.
"She wanted to be with you. I couldn't tell her no," he explained as he managed to look sheepish.
"You're as bad as I am," Mike sighed as he shook his head. "Jill, you really shouldn't be here."
He knew the questions that the D.A. was going to ask. After all, they'd gone over them just the day before. However, he didn't know how Mr. Cummings' lawyer was going to react if she came into the courtroom. He'd been fighting fiercely to keep the survivors from the courtroom. So far, he'd succeeded by having the majority of them put on his witness list.
The bailiff stuck his head out of the door. "Officer Danko, you've been called to the stand."
"I don't like this," he hissed at Terry as he walked into the courtroom.
Mike walked in, followed moments later by Terry who slowly led Jill to seats in the back row. Mike walked to the witness stand and was sworn in before he took his seat. Mr. Miller glanced toward the back of the room and was instantly on his feet. "Your honor, I object to Mrs. Danko's presence in this courtroom!"
"Your honor, Mrs. Danko has every right to be present," the D.A. argued.
"I don't see her name on either side's witness list, therefore, I'm overruling your objection, Mr. Miller. Mrs. Danko may remain where she is," the judge decided.
Mike looked toward the back row, meeting Jill's eyes as the D.A. approached the stand. "Please state your name."
"Michael Jonathan Danko."
"You're an officer with the Santa Costa Police Department?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you currently married to one of the survivors of the accident?"
"Yes, sir," he cleared his throat as he answered.
"What is your wife's name?"
"Jill."
"Can you tell the court how you came to be aware of your wife's accident?"
"Two fellow police officers came to our apartment and told me that she'd been injured in a bus accident."
"What were you originally told about Jill's injuries?"
"Jill had been crushed under several seats and had been deprived of oxygen for several minutes. She had a lot of cuts and bruises to her entire body. I was told that she'd suffered a severe brain injury," he took a sip of water as Jill's eyes never wavered from him.
"How severe was this brain injury?"
"Jill was in a coma for eight days," his eyes met hers as he kept wishing that she didn't have to hear this.
"So, she's okay now? I mean, she's sitting in the back row of this courtroom, so she must be okay," the D.A. motioned toward the back of the room to where Jill and Terry were sitting.
"No, she's not 'okay' now."
"Please tell the court what life is currently like for Jill."
He sighed and took a deep breath before he began speaking. This was why he hadn't wanted Jill sitting here today. "Jill struggles with memory loss," he began as his voice began shaking. "Her right side is weak, so she has trouble walking and keeping her balance. Because of this, she falls a few times a day."
"How has this affected your life together?"
"It's been hard," he choked up before clearing his throat. "She doesn't remember me. The life that she remembers happened before she met me."
"No further questions."
"Good afternoon, Officer Danko," Mr. Miller greeted Mike as he approached the stand. "You said that your wife's injuries have made it difficult on the two of you. Where is your wife living right now?"
"At the home of one of my bosses," Mike was unsure of where Miller was going with his questioning.
"Where are you staying?"
"I'm staying at the same residence."
"So, although you claim that your wife doesn't remember you, you're continuing to live together as man and wife?"
"Objection! Relevance!" The D.A. roared as he jumped to his feet.
"Sustained. The witness may answer."
"I don't know how he expects me to answer," Mike complained.
"You're living together as man and wife, are you not, Officer Danko?"
"We're living under the same roof," Mike hedged, wondering what difference it made if he was having sex with Jill. After all, she was his wife. He'd almost be expected to have sex with her, although that wasn't happening at this time.
"Terry," Jill pulled his head down so that she could whisper in her ear, "is he wanting . . . to know if . . . we're having sex?"
"It sounds that way," he whispered back.
"Why does that . . . matter?"
"Let's go out into the hall," he took Jill's hand and led her out, making eye contact with Mike as they left.
He took her out into the hall and led her to a nearby bench, where she sat and buried her face in her hands. Terry felt helpless. He'd never been good at getting her to calm down. That had always been Mike's specialty. "What business . . . was it of his . . . whether we're . . . having sex . . . or not?"
"He was just being a jerk, Jill. He's a typical lawyer. Are you okay? Do you want some water or something?" He asked.
"I just want . . . to know why!" She cried out as the doors flew opened and Mike strode down the hallway. Terry had never seen him so pissed off, except for the night that Jill had been shot several months before. He pulled Jill to her feet and held her as close as he could as she began to cry.
"That's why I didn't want you in there," he whispered into her hair as he held her to his chest. "It's okay. I want you to do me a favor and let Terry take you back to the cottage."
"No, Mike," she clung to him desperately.
"I'm going to go to the precinct and change clothes. I'll be home in about an hour or so. Terry, take her home. Now," he ordered, kissing Jill fiercely before tucking her hand into Terry's arm.
Terry walked Jill down to his car and helped her in. "Do you want the top up or down?" He asked as he got behind the wheel and started the engine.
"It doesn't . . . matter."
"Jill, relax. He's going to be home soon," he assured her as he pulled out of the parking garage.
"He's mad."
"At you? I don't think so. He worries about you a lot. He always has. Do you remember earlier when I asked you if you loved Cleve and you told me no?" She nodded. "How about Mike? Do you love him?"
"Does he think . . . that I don't?"
"I don't know. He hasn't said one way or the other," he looked at her as he got on the freeway.
"He's a . . . good friend," she smiled shyly as she watched Terry shift gears.
"That he is."
She sat back in her seat and tried to think. Her feelings had been in such a jumble for days now. Mike's smile was brilliant and lit up his whole face, especially when he first walked in the door in the afternoon and saw her waiting for him. She wondered if he'd always looked at her like that. She loved his eyes. They always had a special look in them when he looked at her. A look that she knew was reserved specially for her. She knew that he loved her. He told her so all the time. She'd told him that she loved him a few nights before after the nightmare about her wrists, but she hadn't said it since. Did she love him, too? She knew that she was no longer afraid all of the time. She wasn't nervous or walking on eggshells anymore. So, was it love? She still wasn't exactly sure.
***MJMJMJ***
She was sitting on the edge of the pool an hour later when Mike came out and sat down beside her. "Did Terry leave?" He put his feet in the water.
"He had a . . . date."
"Did you want to get into the pool?" He asked as he looked at her. She slowly nodded as he got into the pool and helped her in with him. "I'm sorry about this afternoon," he apologized as they made their way to the deep end of the pool.
"I just don't . . . understand," she held onto the hem of his t-shirt.
"What don't you understand?"
"What difference . . . does it make . . . if we're having . . . sex or not?"
"It doesn't, babe. He was just being an ass. Come on, let's do your pool exercises, and then we'll get out and have dinner. I sent Paul home, so it's just the two of us," he smiled as she grabbed onto the side of the pool.
"Mike?" She called out as he began swimming laps.
"Yeah?" He stopped to tread water as he looked at her.
"Are you mad? Are you mad . . . that Terry took . . . me to court?"
"I'm not mad at you," he smiled. "Come on, I'll cut you some slack for once. Let's get out of here and go eat."
Later that night, she woke up from a nightmare with tears streaming down her face. She sat up and continued sobbing as she wiped at her face. This dream had been awful, by far the worst one, yet. Was it real or was it once again her over-active imagination? She climbed out of bed and used the walls to make her way next door to where Mike was sound asleep. "Mike?" She whispered in the darkness as she watched him sleep. She bit her lip, hating to disturb him.
He instantly jolted awake when he heard his name being called. He sat up and turned on the lamp before rolling over to find Jill standing at his bedside. "What's wrong?" He couldn't help but notice her tear-stained face. "How'd you get in here?" He noticed that she was standing there holding onto the edge of the mattress, her crutches nowhere in sight.
"The wall," she explained. "I was . . . dreaming."
"Come on," he moved over and patted the bed as she crawled under the covers beside him. "What were you dreaming about?"
"We don't go . . . out anymore. Do we?"
"To restaurants?" She nodded. "No, not very often. Do you remember what happened that night?"
"Some of it. I keep . . . dreaming about . . . it. You're sad . . . about it. That's why . . . they won't . . . talk to me."
"Who? Willie and Terry?"
"When I ask . . . them if we . . . had a baby . . . they . . . tell me to . . . talk to you."
"Baby, I'm very sad about it and it's very hard for me to talk about. It crushed both of us so badly," he brushed her hair from her shoulders.
"I hadn't . . . told you. That night . . . I mean," she played with the buttons on his pajama top.
"Your plan was to tell me when we got home, but we never made it that far," he clasped his hands over hers.
"He's in jail?" Mike nodded. "Then it's okay."
"Well, it's not 100 percent okay, but it's getting better. I think that when we finally have a baby, then everything will be 100 percent okay."
"So we planned . . . it?"
"We had been trying for over a year when you got hurt that night."
"I'm surprised . . . that I was . . . able to . . . get pregnant . . . after what he . . . did to me."
"Baby, I wish that I hadn't left you alone when he came to town. I wasn't here to protect you from him and I'm having a very hard time forgiving myself for that."
"Have you always . . . thought that it . . . was your job . . . to protect me?"
"Since the day that I met you," he smiled. "And it's a job that I'll take any day of the week and twice on Sunday."
"You do your . . . job well," she touched his bottom lip with her fingers.
"Most of the time."
"You know that . . . you can't always . . . be there. Even if you'd . . . been on that . . . bus that day . . . it still would . . . have happened."
"I know."
"So should I . . . go back to . . . my own room?" She asked as she reached up to run her hand through his hair.
"Do you want to go back to your room?" He asked in a tight voice as he tried to keep his libido in check. After all, he'd told her that he was going to follow her lead.
"I don't know," she whispered as she bit her lip. She moved her hands up and wrapped both arms around his neck as she pulled him closer to her. "You smell so good," she breathed as she hugged him.
"You once told Willie that if you were blindfolded and put into a room with 30 men, you could pick me out just by touch and scent," he teased as he bent down to kiss her.
As he kissed her, she could feel his erection against her hip. The feeling of it brought back too many memories of those nights with Cleve. Of him shoving into her as she screamed from the pain. She suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe, as if she needed to fight back. "Mike?" She murmured through his kiss.
"Hmmm?"
"I'm not sure . . . that I'm ready . . . for this," she said as he reluctantly pulled away, his breathing harsh and ragged with desire. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he forced himself to say through his ragged breath, although right now nothing was further from the truth. "That's why God invented cold showers."
"I am sorry," she said as her eyes welled up with tears.
"It's okay. When it's right, we'll both know it. Stay here while I go take a shower," he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "A long, cold one," he muttered under his breath as he walked across the hall to the bathroom.
Standing under the icy needles of the shower, Mike began to wonder if they were ever going to get back to the way things had been before the accident. Then he felt ashamed of himself for thinking that way. After all, none of this was Jill's fault. As he'd told her just moments ago, when the time was right, they'd both know it. He had to believe that.
A/N: Okay, I promise that with the next chapter the teasing will come to an end.