3rd of February, 1992
Brooklyn is 26, Michael is 33

Brooklyn: I watched as Michael slowly emptied each pill bottle into the bag that was held up in front of him by Will, one of his treatment guys.

Julia, his therapist, was standing right next to them. She watched quietly, just like me.

It hurt me to see Michael like this.
When he told me everything about his drug problem, I felt so responsible. I felt like everything we went through, everything he went through, happened because of me.

I couldn't shake that feeling off.
He was struggling so much to do this. He said it was more for me than for him.

After I found out about it, I've made sure that he didn't touch anything.

There was one night, a few days before he started his treatment, that I found him crying in the bathroom, all curled up in himself.

It tore me to pieces; I've never seen my husband that vulnerable. I remember him screaming, saying he can't do it. He told me to cancel everything, that he'd rather die than do this, because his pain was unbearable.

"I need it, Brooke. Can't you see I'm in pain?! Please."

And all I did was take him in my arms, telling him it was going to be okay, that he'll get through this.

After that night, he just didn't sleep, or eat. All he did was either be up in his giving tree, or in bed. He occasionally agreed to eat a cracker or something small, but nothing more.

Michael was literally fading away from me until this very day.

I knew he wanted to get better, he wanted help.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Michael paused his actions, looking at me with begging eyes.

"Michael, come on. It's the last one, you can do this." Will encouraged him.

It had taken us more than five hours to convince him to even do this, and every bottle took him at least fifteen minutes.
He was shaking like crazy at each one.

"How's it going?" I heard my brother whisper in my ear as he walked into our bedroom.

I sighed, "Last one. You have to leave, though, he barely let me be here."

"Okay, I'm going. I'll be downstairs when this is all over." he squeezed my shoulder tightly.

I took a deep breath and returned my gaze to Michael.
He looked like someone sucked the life out of him.

Earlier this week, I made sure no doctor, no one, was giving him any sort of medication. I found out who they were, pulled some strings, and their license was immediately gone.

I saw the last few pills drop into the bag.

Michael collapsed onto the bed, letting out a big sigh.

I hugged is shoulders tightly, "There, doesn't that feel a lot better?"

He nodded slightly, covered his face with his hands, and started sobbing.
I quickly signaled Julia and Will to get out as I let him cry.

"I want to sleep. Help me sleep, please." he looked at me with his doe-like eyes.

I nodded, wiping his tears.

~

I didn't know what time it was, but when I woke up from Michael throwing up in the bathroom, it was dark.

It happened way too often, his body was rejecting anything he put into his mouth. As if he even ate.

I got out of bed and ran into the bathroom, only to find him clutching onto the toilet.

"D-don't. I'm fine." he mumbled.
I rolled my eyes and came closer.

I went down on my knees next to him, rubbing his back.

Feeling his bony spine, I flinched. He lost so much weight.

I really wanted to help him, but I didn't know how. I was desperate for some guidance.

Michael groaned when he kept throwing up.

"Are you sure you don't want to check this out? Please, this has been going on for too long." I said.

I've asked him this before. He kept refusing.

My husband shook his head violently before he reached up his hand to flush the toilet.

"You should eat, you can't go on like this."

"I just threw up my own gastric juices, Brooklyn. It'll be useless. It's just my body getting used to being without... it. I really am fine." he smiled weakly.

I sighed, "Okay."

~

4th of February, 1992
Brooklyn is 26, Michael is 33

Chris: I walked through the Neverland ranch. A good morning walk never hurt anybody.

It was really deserted. No kids running around like usual, no music playing through the entire place.

It seemed sad without music.

And the staff wasn't here, either. Brooklyn kicked everyone out on day one of Michael's treatment.

I looked at my watch; it read 8:45 AM. I decided to go back to the house, to see if either my sister or her husband woke up.

"Good morning." Brooke smiled when I walked into the kitchen. She was making breakfast, neatly placing each ready pancake on a plate.

"Good morning. You seem... Cheerful." I said, a bit surprised with her mood.

She only shrugged.

"Where's Michael?"

"I made him take a shower."

"You made him take a shower?" I asked.

"Yeah, he didn't want to get out of bed. I told him he had to, or else he won't get to see today's Simpsons episode." my sister answered, putting the last pancake on the plate.

I let out a chuckle and heard my stomach silently grumble. Those pancakes looked way too good.

Brooklyn turned off the stove and turned to me.

"Thank you for being here," she hugged me tightly. "I really need you. He needs you."

I kissed the top of her head, "Don't mention it."

"I smelled pancakes." Michael's voice was heard.

I pulled away from my sister.

"Can I have one?"

A huge smile spread across Brooke's face.

"Of course, Mike. You can have as many as you want." she told him, giving him a small kiss.

~

21st of February, 1992
Brooklyn is 26, Janet is 25, and Michael is 33

Brooklyn: Michael is Michael again. I couldn't have been happier, and he looked happy, too.

He was smiling again, flashing his white teeth every time.

His family was here today. After not seeing him for over a month, Katherine said they had to see him. She was right, his family was his rock. Always was, always will be.

I looked at my husband who was smiling shyly at something Rebbie said, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

I never quite understood why he wore sunglasses inside, but he did it a lot.

He held my hand, playing with my fingers.

Neverland was still very empty. It was now only the both of us here, Julia and Will left a few days ago, along with Chris.

Michael thanked them all for supporting and helping him cleanse himself.
It was very emotional; my brother shed a few tears with him, telling him he's proud.

"I need to talk to you." Janet whispered in my ear.

I nodded, getting up.

"Where are you going?" Michael pulled at my hand like a needy child.

"I'm just going outside with Janet for a while, don't worry." I said.

I leaned down to kiss him before Janet took my hand and we walked outside.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us! You didn't tell me! Why am I the one who has to hear that my own brother Mike is in treatment for drugs, from your brother?!" she questioned once we were outside, far from everyone.

I sighed, "He asked me not to say anything. It was his own struggle, I didn't have the right to tell you."

"But as his sister I have the right to know!"

"I know how you feel, I do. I found out about it at Christmas. And he told me everything when he came back," I looked her in the eyes. "It was best you didn't know. You... You wouldn't have wanted to see him at the beginning, it was awful. I don't think he wanted any of you to see him at that point."

"We could've helped." she mumbled.

"That's exactly how I felt when he revealed it to me." I told her.

"What about the doctors who gave him the drugs?"

"Not in the profession anymore."

Janet pulled me into a long hug.

"Remind me to never doubt you again." she said.

"Ouch." I smiled into her shoulder.

She scoffed and hugged me tighter, "I love you. Thank you for taking care of him for us."

"I love you, too, Jan."

~

"Hungry?" I asked Michael when he walked into the living room.

His family left not long ago, so he decided to take a shower.
He looked so cute all wrapped up in a sweater and a blanket, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

"I, uh, I was actually hoping to cuddle." he looked away, blushing.

"Of course, come here." I smiled and opened my arms. He carefully took a seat in between my legs and leaned onto me.

I enjoyed his body being pressed close against mine, I missed his touch.

"I never thanked you." he whispered.

"For what?" I questioned and furrowed my eyebrows.

"For sticking with me through this. God knows what could've happened if you weren't here for me," my husband said. "I love you, I really do."

"I love you more." I told him.

"Impossible." he smirked.

I laughed, "Shut up, just shut up, Mike. Don't even start, you know it won't end."

Michael rolled his eyes and kissed the side of my lips, and kept showering me with kisses all over, telling me how much he loves me.

I giggled and pushed him away.

"Oh, guess what I've arranged?" he grinned, his white teeth showing again.

The most beautiful smile in the world.

"Mhmm?"

"You're my leading lady for the next short film."

"What?!" I jumped up.

"Yeah, for 'In the Closet'. You'll need to get sexy, you're gonna show that beautiful body of yours." he chuckled.

"But, I-"

He cut me off, "Nope, you can't refuse. We're starting rehearsals in a week, and next month we're shooting."

"So you're basically forcing me." I mumbled.

"You could say that."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." he innocently looked at me.

Michael leaned in for a kiss, grabbing my face in both of his hands. I kissed him back, passionately.

When we broke away for air, he had a proud expression on his tired face.

"Now, THAT'S the passion I wanna see next week." he winked.

~

I'm so sorry for the long wait!!
Here's a short chapter, I hope you like it, and I hope I'll get to update again very soon!
~ShoamEmily