FEEDBACK: Of course, but email me privately if it’s negative. I tend to be sensitive where my stories are concerned.

ARCHIVE: Yes, at www.angelfire.com/tv2/rookies_fanfiction. Anywhere else, please email me and ask.

RATING: R

SETTING: Pre-Pilot.

SUMMARY: Mike Danko meets his future wife and learns of her tortured past.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: 'Meeting With Destiny' was the second story that I posted on fan fiction.net, written before I started using a beta reader. By my somewhat picky standards, I don't think it's as well written as my later stories so I've decided to write a new and improved version. My many thanks to Bridget for beta reading the new (and I hope) improved version and for not thinking me too crazy when I told her I was going to do this.

I also want to thank my good friend, Gina, for letting me borrow chapter and verse some aspects of her own tortured past and for showing me what a person is capable of rising above.

Also, one more note for the people who are thinking of emailing me and telling me that Mike was in the Air Force. I know this. I'm going against series canon by having Mike enlisted in the Army. He's in the Army in all of my stories. This is because the Air Force did not use helicopter pilots, while the Army and Navy did. My source on this is very reliable. He told me if the continuity people had been paying attention, they would've picked up on their error. In the pilot and in the episode, 'Dirge For Sunday' the fact is mentioned that Mike worked in the missile silos. In later episodes he stated he flew a helicopter.
 

CHAPTER ONE: Jill

It was a hot morning in August 1969. Jill Kingston woke up and tried to sit up in bed, but instead she found her wrists restrained to the sides of a hospital bed. She tugged on the leather cuffs, trying desperately to loosen them. She didn't know where she was but she was determined to find out. She stopped struggling when she heard a key turn and the door to the room opened. A doctor walked in, followed by a nurse carrying a clipboard.

"Good morning, Miss Kingston. I'm Dr. Malloy. If you promise not to do anything, I'll remove your restraints," the doctor told her pleasantly.

"Why would I do anything? Who brought me here?" Jill asked in a sharp voice.

"Your friend, uh, Mr. Applegate," Dr. Malloy answered, reading the name off of the clipboard the nurse handed him. "You did quite a number on your wrists."

"You said Trap brought me here? Where is he now?" Jill demanded.

"I'm not sure. He did say he'd check in on you in a couple of days. You can't have visitors until after you've been evaluated by the staff psychiatrist," Dr. Malloy informed her, making notes on her chart.

"What's going to happen to me now?" Jill inquired nervously.

"That's up to you. Your grandfather's been notified that you're here, but he's stated that he can't make the trip to bring you back home. Why don't you tell us about the bruises?" The doctor offered kindly.

"What bruises?" Jill asked, feigning innocence.

"You're covered in bruises Some are fresh and a few are several days old. When we asked your friend about them, he said you'd taken a fall down some stairs. If someone's hurt you, tell us and we can help," the doctor advised her gently.

"I don't need your help," Jill told them stubbornly.

After changing the dressings on her wrists the doctor left the restraints off. They then left the room, once again locking the door behind them. Jill sat back on the bed and ran her hand through her long, tangled brown hair. She never in a million years figured she'd end up in a locked psych ward. She gingerly removed the sheet off her legs and looked at the huge black, blue and purple bruises that covered them, as well as her back and arms. After several minutes she pulled the sheet back up and tried to gather her thoughts. She couldn't go back to the house in Beverly Hills and going home to her grandfather's farm in Alabama was almost as bad. She needed to talk to Trap. She wondered when they were going to send the shrink in to talk to her. The doctor had told her she couldn't have visitors until after she saw him.

As things turned out she didn't see the psychiatrist at all until the next morning. By this time she was angry as well as afraid. She didn't sleep well, so she lay awake the night before and listened to the sounds of the ward. Shoes squeaking, women crying, voices calling out...it was a terrifying experience. By the time she heard her door unlock after breakfast she was a nervous wreck.

"Miss Kingston, I'm Dr. Karras. I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you yesterday. How are you doing today?" He asked pleasantly. Jill noted that he was a friendly looking man in his early 40's with salt and pepper hair, dressed casually in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt.

"I want to know when I can go home," Jill said plaintively.

"That depends on what you consider home. I don't want to send you back to whoever it was that beat you. The next time you could end up dead," the doctor told her, as he sat down in a chair by her bed.

"I don't know why you're all insisting that someone beat me. Like my friend told the doctors, I fell down a flight of stairs," Jill lied.

"Your chart states that your injuries aren't consistent with a fall. You also appear to have been sexually assaulted. Talk to me, Miss Kingston, or can I call you Jill?" The doctor asked, concern written all over his face.

"Look, I don't know what you people are talking about! I just want to get out of here!" Jill cried.

"I realize that, but you have to level with me. Tell me who hurt you and I can contact the police. They can have whoever it was picked up," he told her.

"I thought I was here because I cut my wrists! Why do you care if I was beaten or not? Has Trap been here?" She asked.

"Who?" The doctor thought for a minute, then smiled. "Oh, Mr. Applegate. Yes, he's been here. He seems quite concerned about you. I told him he could probably see you today or tomorrow, but you won't be released until we find a safe place to send you...preferably back to Alabama with your grandfather."

"Why do I have to go back to him? I can take care of myself," she told him quietly, biting her lip and staring at the top of the blanket.

"Yeah, I can see that," he said dryly. "I talked to your grandfather, Jill. He said you've been gone for five years. He told me that you took off with this Trap fellow and some other guy who's several years older. Is this older guy the one who beat you?"

"Why can't you leave that alone?" She begged.

"Because you came damn close to dying. Now, if you don't care, that's fine. We'll release you in thirty days and you can go back to that maniac and let him finish the job. However, if you do care, then I suggest you let us put you back on a bus to Birmingham to go live with your grandfather," the doctor advised firmly, standing up.

"Are you leaving?" Jill queried in a sullen voice.

"For right now. If you want to talk, the nurses will find me," he answered, walking over and rapping on the locked door. An orderly opened it and the doctor left.

Later that afternoon, Jill was told that her friend T.R. (Trap) Applegate was waiting for her in the visitor's room. She was finally let out of the locked room and led down the hall to the visitor's room.

Trap was sitting in an armchair waiting for her. At 21, he was two years older than Jill's 19 years, he was just over six feet tall with collar length brown hair and light brown eyes. He led Jill over to a card table and they sat down facing each other.

"Are you okay?" Trap asked solicitously.

"I don't know. Why didn't you let me die, Trap?" Jill whispered, afraid someone would hear.

"Because you're my best friend," he stated softly, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "They told me they'd release you in a couple of days if I promise to take you back to Birmingham. I signed the papers."

"What did you do that for?" She hissed in a bitter voice.

"Because your only other options are staying here or going back to Cleve! Jill, he's going to kill you!" Trap countered furiously.

"Does he know where I am?" She whispered, eyes darting around the room nervously, half expecting Cleve to come in any second.

"Not yet. I haven't gone back to the house. I took his car and went out to Benedict Canyon. I'm staying with Bryce and Kathy. Let me take you back to Alabama before he finds out where his car is," Trap insisted.

"He's going to know I went back to the farm," Jill protested anxiously.

"So?" Trap looked at her quizzically, wondering where she was headed.

"I have an uncle who lives in Anniston. He has a bar, I think. If you take me to Anniston, maybe Cleve won't find me. Maybe I can get a job working for him," Jill finished in a breathless voice.

"Jill, they told me that I have to take you to Birmingham, no exceptions!" Trap felt like exploding.

"They're never going to know if nobody tells them. Look, the old man doesn't want me living there with him. He doesn't want the responsibility. Besides, if you don't take me to Anniston, I'll finish what I started the other day," Jill threatened.

"What're you talking about?" Trap asked warily.

"My grandfather has a gun collection. I was raised around guns, Trap. The next time I won't miss," she vowed icily.

Trap felt sick to his stomach. "Jill, what if they check to see if I took you to Birmingham? We're not just talking about you, here!" Trap didn't know what he could say or do to make her understand what was at stake.

"Don't worry about it. Just get me out of here and I'll take care of everything else," Jill told him in a cold voice. "What're you going to do about money? It's going to take us a few days to travel across country. We're going to have to stop for the night."

"I talked to my father. He's going to wire me some money. I should have it in the morning," Trap ventured hesitantly.

"Was he surprised to hear from you?" Jill asked curiously.

"No, actually it wasn't as bad talking to him as I'd thought it was going to be. He's just glad that I'm coming home. Look, I have to go. I'll be back tomorrow to see you again," Trap finished, standing up.
 

Two days later, Dr. Karras came in to see Jill before she was released into Trap's custody. "Do you and your friend have money?" He asked.

"Yeah, his father wired him fifteen hundred bucks yesterday. That should get us home and take care of any emergencies that might come up," Jill told him, anxious to leave.

"Did they show you how to change the dressings on your wrists?" He questioned.

"Yeah."

"The stitches will need to be removed in about a week," the doctor continued, nodding. "Keep them dry and go to the emergency room at the first sign of any infection. You also need to make arrangements to see a psychiatrist once you get back home."

"Look, doc, I appreciate your concern, but I'm okay. I don't need to see a shrink," Jill insisted, wondering what was keeping Trap.

"You don't have a choice here, Jill. Either you make arrangements to see a psychiatrist or I'll get a court order making it mandatory," the doctor insisted.

"Okay, so I'll make arrangements to see a shrink," Jill sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Whether you realize this or not, there are people who care about whether you live or die. You're the only one who knows what led you to do what you did. Talking to a psychiatrist will help you talk about it and maybe keep you from trying the same thing again," he told her.

About that time there was a tap on the locked door. An orderly unlocked it and told Dr. Karras that Trap was there waiting to take Jill home. She breathed a sigh of relief as she picked up a bag with a few articles of clothing that one of the nurses had brought for her after being told she had nothing, which wasn't exactly true. The few things she owned were in the house with Cleve and she had no intention of going back to get anything.

After giving her and Trap some last minute instructions, Dr. Karras reluctantly released Jill into his custody.

Trap led Jill out to the red Corvette convertible and threw Jill's bag into the back seat.

The first night they stopped in Phoenix. Jill stretched out on one of the double beds while Trap stretched out on the other one.

"Cleve's going to be mad about his car," Jill commented sleepily.

"What's the big deal? Daddy will just buy him another one. He was so stoned when I took you out of there that he probably doesn't even realize it's gone," Trap yawned. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again in a voice so low Jill could barely hear him. "I'm sorry, Jill."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Jill said, looking over at her traveling companion.

"If I could've gotten into that room to protect you, I would have," he vowed.

"I know that," Jill replied softly. "I also know if you had gotten into that room, he would've taken that .45 in the drawer by the bed and blown your brains out."

"I didn't know they were going to sign you into the psych ward," he muttered "If I'd known they were going to lock you up, I would've found a way to stitch you up myself."

They arrived in Anniston, Alabama, three days later. Jill directed him to the home of her aunt and uncle, her grandfather's brother and sister-in-law. Even though she hadn't seen them in years, she remembered the way from memory.

"Trap, I'll be okay. I know your father's anxious to see you," Jill reassured him, grabbing her bag and getting out of the car.

"Jill, what if they don't let you stay?" Trap asked.

"I'm family. I'll be fine," Jill assured him.

"Damn it, Jill! I'm supposed to take you to Birmingham! Your grandfather's expecting you!" Trap snapped furiously.

"Trap, remember what I told you about the guns? I'll talk to you in a few days," she told him.

Trap reluctantly drove off, leaving Jill to walk up to the house. She took a deep breath before knocking on the front door.

"Uncle Ray?" Jill guessed hesitantly when an older man opened the door.

"Ray, who is it?" An older woman called out, walking into the living room.

"It's Jill, Letty," the man told his wife.

"Oh, my Heavens! Don't just stand there, Ray! Let her in!" The woman cried, stepping forward to hug her niece. Jill instantly shrank back.

After letting her into the house, they asked her to sit down. Jill did so, stiffly perching on the edge of a chair.

"I came here hoping you could help me, Uncle Ray," she began as the front door opened and Ray's son, Jimmy, walked into the house. His eyes widened in shock and surprise when he saw Jill sitting there.

"Jill, hi," he said, walking over to hug her, only to have her draw back as she had with his mother. "It's been a long time. What brings you to this neck of the woods? We all heard you'd split."

"I think she was about to tell us, Jimmy, before you interrupted. Go ahead, Jill. What do you need my help for? I thought that's what your grandfather was around for," Ray said gruffly.

"I can't go to him. Not after all this time. I was wondering if I could get a job working in the bar," Jill answered, trying very hard not to beg.

"I see. How old are you, Jill? Eighteen, nineteen?" He asked thoughtfully.

"Nineteen," Jill answered.

"Why can't you go back to the farm?" Ray asked.

"Because that's the first place Cleve will look for me," Jill replied honestly.

"Is Cleve what happened to your wrists?" Jimmy asked quietly, noting the white gauze.

"No, I'm what happened to my wrists. Please, Uncle Ray? I don't have anywhere else to go," Jill pleaded.

Something about the look of desperation in his niece's eyes tugged at Ray. He'd known the Andrews family his whole life. Cleve was a bad seed if he'd ever seen one. He'd tried to persuade his brother to notify the police when he'd been told Jill had left with him.

"If I give you a job, Jill, I'll have to pay you under the table. If the Bureau of Tobacco and Firearms finds out I've hired an underage person to tend bar, they'll take my license away. You have to be extremely careful whom you talk to while you're there. Do you understand me?" Ray asked.

"Yes, I understand," Jill whispered, heaving a sigh of relief.

"I have an old trailer up the road that you're welcome to stay in as long as you're working for me. It's nothing fancy, but it has running water and lights. Can you drive a stick?" He suddenly asked as Jill nodded. "You can have that old VW in the driveway."

"Why are you also giving me a car and a place to live?" Jill asked, surprised.

"Because you're family," he smiled. "Now, Letty was about to cook dinner. It looks like it's been a while since you had a decent meal."

After picking her way through dinner and stilted family conversation, Ray had Jimmy walk Jill over to the trailer.

"Where's your wife and kids? I mean, you are married, aren't you?" Jill asked as they walked up the road.

"They're in Montgomery visiting relatives. They'll be back this weekend. Jill, can I ask you something? Why did you take off with him?" Jimmy blurted, unlocking the door of the trailer and leading her inside.

"He told me he loved me," Jill stated simply.

"Where did you go?" He probed.

"Los Angeles. Some friend of his father's had a house in Beverly Hills so we stayed there," Jill answered, looking around the tiny trailer. "Look, Jimmy, if he calls you haven't seen me."

"Don't worry, I never liked that guy, anyway. I don't know anything. There are towels and linens in a closet in the bathroom. It's not Beverly Hills, but it has everything you'll need," Jimmy told her.
 

As Jill had predicted, Cleve Andrews was not a happy person. He had been extremely stoned the day Jill had cut her wrists. By the time he'd completely sobered up two days later, Jill and Trap were both gone and so was Cleve's prized red Corvette. He called everybody he knew in the immediate Los Angeles area that might've known where his car had disappeared to. He hit pay dirt when he called one of his biker buddies.

"Bryce, hey, it's Cleve. I was wondering if you'd seen Trap Applegate. He has my 'Vette and I'd like to know where he's taken off with it," Cleve began.

"Well, Trap was here a few days ago, but he left and I haven't seen him since," Bryce hedged, looking at his girlfriend, Kathy.

"Was Jill with him?" Cleve asked.

"No. I'll keep an eye out for both of them though, Cleve," Bryce promised, anxious to get off of the phone.

As soon as Cleve hung up, the phone rang again. Thinking it might be Trap or Jill, he snatched it up. It wasn't either one of them, but it was his father.

"Cleveland, what in the hell is your friend Ted Applegate doing driving your Corvette?" His father demanded.

"He's there with it now?" Cleve asked, stunned.

"No, he drove it over here and dropped it off earlier today. Would you mind telling me what in the hell is going on?" Mr. Andrews' voice boomed over the phone.

"I'm not sure, daddy. I know Trap was upset and wanted to go back home, but I had no idea he'd drive cross country to do it," Cleve stammered, wondering if Jill was there as well. "Daddy, did Trap take Jill to her granddaddy's house?"

"Jill wasn't with him. I don't know where she is, I don't care where she is and if you know what's good for you, you wouldn't care, either. I don't understand how someone can take your car and you're completely clueless about it. Have you been drinking?" His father demanded.

"Some, but I wasn't drunk. He must've sneaked out in the middle of the night. I thought he was still in town, but none of my friends had seen him or Jill. I'm glad to know he's all right," Cleve lied. He really wanted to get his hands on him and Jill and wring both of their necks.

"Cleveland, I want you to come home. I take it you've still got the Ferrari," his father said.

"Yes, sir."

"Then, come home. You've been out there fooling around long enough. I'll be expecting you in three days," his father instructed in a voice Cleve knew better than to argue with.

"Yes, sir," Cleve mumbled as he hung up the phone. If Jill wasn't in Huntington at her grandfather's farm or in Pensacola with Trap, he wondered where she could be. He went upstairs to pack his things.
 

Jill started working in the bar the next day. Her uncle showed her around the place.

"Most of the customers I get are soldiers from Ft. McClellan. They don't cause any trouble, they just like to come in, drink a few beers and unwind. But, if you do get any rowdies, just use this," he informed her, pulling a baseball bat from underneath the bar. "If this fails, call the cops."

The regulars loved it when they came in that afternoon and saw Jill. They referred to her as 'scenery' or 'window dressing' until Ray shut them all up by bringing out the baseball bat and shaking it menacingly in the air.

"That's my niece you guys are talking about and you'll do well to show her some respect!" Ray shouted as the guys backed off.

The first two days she was there Jimmy watched her carefully, wondering what her story was. He could tell she wasn't happy. He could also tell she wasn't sleeping by the huge, dark circles under her eyes. When he asked her about California and Cleve, she stared him down. He decided that there was only one person besides Jill who knew what had happened and that was Trap. On a Friday night after work, he called Trap and made arrangements to meet with him the next morning.

The next morning Jimmy met Trap at his parent's house. Jimmy handed him a cup of coffee before they walked out into the backyard.

"So, how is she?" Trap asked Jimmy.

"Miserable. Trap, what happened? I mean, I know Jill wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine the last time I saw her, but the Jill I knew back then wouldn't stoop to attempting suicide," Jimmy told him.

"It was bad, Jimmy. Real bad. Cleve's a freakin' maniac. I'm surprised he didn't kill her. He beat her all the time. We were always either drunk or stoned or both," Trap said in a quiet voice.

Jimmy sat there patiently listening as Trap told him a story that sickened him. Listening to the young man's tale, Jimmy realized how fortunate it was that Jill had survived at all. Trap's story explained so many aspects of Jill's behavior since her return, mainly why she wouldn't let anyone touch her.

"I tried to help her, Jimmy. If I could've gotten into that room just one time..." Trap concluded, with tears in his eyes.

"If you'd managed to get into that room you'd both be dead. You did the right thing by bringing her back here. I swear, if I ever see that son of a bitch, I'll kill him with my bare hands," Jimmy muttered through clenched teeth.

"Well, you'd better get ready, because my brother was telling me that he saw Cleve with his father at the feed store in Huntington yesterday morning. Tell Jill to keep her eyes open and watch her back," Trap warned.
 

Jill was sitting on her battered sofa reading a paperback novel that evening. If she could relax she could enjoy the peace and quiet and being able to read without being bothered. She had trouble sleeping at night. She half expected Cleve to come stumbling into the room, drunk or stoned and wanting sex. She jumped out of her skin when she heard a knock on her door. She opened the door to find Jimmy standing there.

"What do you want? It's late," she remarked in a shaky voice, stepping aside to let him in.

"I just got back from Pensacola. Trap told me what happened between you and Cleve," Jimmy announced.

Jill blanched and she swallowed hard. "Why did you go asking him anything about me and Cleve? What happened between us isn't any of your business!"

"Why didn't you call the police on him, Jill? He was raping you, for Pete's sake!" Jimmy shouted.

"Keep your voice down!" She hissed. "He told me that if I ever called the police, he'd make what was left of my life a living hell! I don't want to talk about this, especially with a man!"

"Okay, I get the message. But I also have a message. Trap's brother said he saw Cleve with his father yesterday in Huntington, so watch your back," Jimmy warned.

"Thanks, Jimmy," Jill whispered as she let Jimmy out of the door.

Jill sat up most of the night trying to think of where else she could go where Cleve wouldn't find her. The only other two places she could think of to go were Athens, Georgia, where her mother lived or Atlanta, where her father lived. Both places had about as much appeal as a three-hour root canal.

She continued thinking about her options on Sunday, not knowing that her path and her destiny were going to be decided for her on Monday afternoon.

Return to Main Page          Continue To Part Two