Jennifer stepped into the smell of sickness. 

She couldn't stand walking into the hospital, down the corridor and up to the 
second floor every week because of it. Although, she didn't exactly walk. She 
hobbled on her crutches. Her left leg was in a long walking cast covering her 
whole leg and the right one was in a short cast with a waking heel

Three months earlier Jennifer was a lively high school teacher. Bright and 
bubbly with a lust for life, she was on her way back from her night class when 
the incident occurred. 

Walking back to the parking lot as she had every week for the 2 months since 
starting this class at night, Jennifer never noticed the group of guys that 
pulled behind her. The rape was particularly brutal in that by attempting to 
bite and kick off her attackers she was severely beaten and left on the steps of 
the high school to be found by the staff the next morning.

Now her bruises were fading, her broken rib was healing and she was attending 
physical therapy twice a week to help regain the use of her fractured legs. The 
therapy that she refused was emotional. No amount of cajoling or force from her 
parents and friends could make her see a therapist. What happened, happened. A 
stranger wasn't going to help her deal with it.

A glance at her watch told Jennifer she was almost 10 minutes early for her 
appointment. Instead of waiting in the lobby she limped to the back and into the 
locker room-style bathroom. Leaning against the door Jennifer surveyed her 
appearance in the full-length mirror across from the shower stall.

At 5'10 she was able to look at herself and see her full breasts that she used 
to be rather fond of, she now saw as traitors. The lips were too pouty, 
inviting. Her smile, which used to flow like sunshine, now rarely showed and 
when it did was restrained, never quite reaching her eyes. From her jeans shorts 
and t-shirts to her broken walk and unstyled hair, Jennifer did everything in 
her power to make sure she no longer stood out. That she wouldn't be noticed. 
Especially by men. But with her legs still casted and the crutches, it was 
difficult.

"Jennifer, are you okay in there?"

The concerned male voice from the other side of the door interrupted Jennifer' 
thoughts. Throwing one last glare at her broken legs she opened the door to see 
Jonathan, P.T. waiting for her on the other side.

"Hey," she said without meeting his eyes, "I was a little early."

"Jennifer, it's 20 after 5. I thought you weren't going to show. I was leaving 
for the day and Deb told me you'd been in there for half an hour. Are you sure 
you're all right. How are the legs today?"

Jonathan's voice held a hint more concern than it did with his other patients. 

"I'm fine. Can we just start?"

Jonathan stood watching Jennifer struggles with her 2 walking casts and crutches 
walk over to the mat in the middle of the main therapy room. She was by far his 
most intriguing patient. 

He hadn't been in therapy for very long, in fact he was almost fresh out of 
school, but he knew that whatever was wrong with Jennifer needed more than 
physical therapy to fix.

She had been his patient twice a week for almost three months and he still 
couldn't get her to open up. Her lack of motivation and her apparent depression 
were a large part of why she was not improving physically. She still had a long 
cast on her left leg on what she could barely put any weight on without her 
wincing with pain. 

Her right leg was improving. Another 3 weeks and the cast would be gown for 
good.

What intrigued Jonathan was that he wanted more than desperately for her to 
improve. As if he had something to prove to himself. He wanted to be the one to 
fix her. He wanted to make her smile and see her walk straight without crutches 
and hear her laugh. He knew he was being ridiculous. It was probably a natural 
response to the knowledge of her situation. Whatever it was, he never let it 
interfere with the way he treated her. She was just a patient. A beautiful  
helpless patient. But just a patient.

Crossing to the mat, Jonathan squatted beside where Jennifer sat, casts straight 
out in front of her, in the middle of the room.

"Look, since we're running late and it's the end of the day, how about we just 
skip your exercises?"

For a second she thought of cheesy come-ons and every doctor/patient sex cliché 
she'd ever heard. He must have noticed the sudden wariness in her eyes because 
he stood up and walked away from her, toward a table in the corner.

"We can just do stretching and massage for today," he said, picking up a thick 
white towel.

Jesus! She must really be losing her mind if she thought Jonathan was coming on 
to her. He had never been anything but appropriate with her and she felt bad for 
even thinking he would be otherwise.

A little tentatively she replied, 

"Yeah, sure," and started to get up off the floor with the help of her crutches 
when she noticed that the massage table wasn't in the room. Jonathan noticed her 
noticing.

"My 3:30 broke it. I should have been more careful after we had to hoist him on 
with pulleys."

"Oh," was Jennifer' only response. A little disappointed that his joke hadn't 
gone over well, Jonathan started to reach for another towel when he noticed the 
corner her mouth lifting. Not quite a smile, but it would do.

Jonathan walked back to Jennifer with the towels and once again squatted down 
beside her.
"We'll have to do everything on the mat."

Jennifer had a sudden sinking feeling. For the first time in three months she 
would be lying on the floor. Under a man. As soon as the thought occurred to her 
she pushed it away. This was Jonathan, not some drunk frat guy. Laying back she 
rested her head on the towels Jonathan had laid out for her. 

Lifting her broken right leg, Jonathan began pushing on her cast, stretching her 
leg, pushing it towards her head, trying to keep flexibility. As he did, his 
large, lean body loomed over her. Suddenly, with his body so close, practically 
on top of hers, Jennifer didn't see Jonathan anymore.

She saw the guy. The last one of her attackers she could remember before passing 
out. As he shoved himself into her she began kicking at him with her right leg. 
Her broken left leg was pinned under one of the faceless men, as were her arms. 

Rather than pull out and hit her as the others had he merely grabbed hold of her 
right leg in his beefy hand and raised it up, pushing it toward her head. 
Pushing and twisting until her leg snap. 
      
She remembered screaming when she saw her right leg bent in a way that left no 
choisces, both her legs were broken now. That's when he chose to slap her, 
screaming at her, "SHUT UP, BITCH!"

"JENNIFER!"

Jonathan had let go of her leg, but was still leaning over her, his handsframing 
her face and his eyes filled with shock as she laid on the floor screaming.

"JENNIFER!"

Not caring that it was Jonathan, wanting nothing more than to get away, 
Jennifer pushed off the floor and with the help of one crutch managed to get up 
on her casted legs and walked, as best she could with her bad limp, before 
falling down again her casts smacking the floor loudly.

She tried crawling, pulling both her broken legs and made it out to the door 
before Jonathan caught up to her. 



Part 2 to come