23rd of August, 1993
Brooklyn is 27, Michael is 34

Michael: "Are you done, baby?" Brooke asked from outside the bathroom door.

"Yeah, I'll be right out." I said, my voice cracking.

I've done so much crying these past few days, I could barely speak anymore.
Who knows if I'll be able to sing tomorrow when we go back to touring.

I was in complete pain. That's all I felt.

She was trying to help me deal with my agony. She led me a shoulder to cry on every night, and stayed up with me just to calm me down.

But, it wasn't enough. The pain took over my mind, my body, my heart.
I was debating with myself whether to contact my doctor and ask him for pills.
Eventually, I did. I asked for something strong enough to make me sleepy as well. All I wanted to do was disappear.

Demerol.
I read the label over and over again. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath before shaking two pills out of the bottle. I swallowed them on a dry throat and hoped they would take effect quickly.

Guilt started creeping into my mind as I remembered all the hell I put my wife through last year.

I hurried to hide the pill bottle in a place I knew she couldn't find it, and opened the door.

Brooklyn was making the bed, quietly humming a little tune.

She turned to me with a smile plastered on her face.

My heart dropped. I felt like I just betrayed her by taking those pills.
The feeling got stronger with every passing moment.
When she placed her lips on mine I completely fell apart inside.

I pulled away, telling her I needed to put some clothes on.

~

Brooklyn: Michael was distant. I couldn't blame him, though.

This whole situation sucked. I couldn't believe someone would actually lie the way Evan did.

He sighed into my neck before pulling away from the cuddling position we were in.

"Why would Evan do this to me?" my husband asked for the millionth time this week.

"Because he's a pathetic asshole." I mumbled.

I looked into his eyes; they were darker, and seemed colder.

Since when are his eyes so cold?

~

That night, I called Frank over to help me convince Michael not to continue tour with everything he had going on right now.

"Are you sure you're ready for this? We could always start in a few days, Mike." Frank said.

"Frank, my fans aren't responsible for what's happening. They deserve to see me perform. I can't let them down." Michael told him, putting another shirt in his suitcase.

"Frank's right, Michael. Maybe it's best we don't start tour right away." I put a hand on his shoulder.

He shot me a glare, "As a dancer on this tour you should support my decision, not his."

"But as your wife I should worry about you and that's what I'm doing. You're going through something emotionally hard, I don't want you to over do yourself. You know you'll end up doing it. I'm scared you'll... That you'll..."

I couldn't let myself finish the sentence. Just the thought of him going back to that awful habit made me flinch.

I hadn't even started to pack myself because I hoped Frank and I could change his mind, but it was obviously not working.

"Brooklyn, you can't think that. Come on, you know Mike better than that." Frank looked at me sympathetically.

I looked at Michael who was trying to avoid our eyes.

"We are going on tour and that's final. I don't want to hear anything about it," he declared. "Start packing."

~

15th of September, 1993
Brooklyn is 27, Michael is 35

Michael: Another show down.

I opened the suite door, just wanting to get to bed.

Brooklyn didn't perform tonight; she became really sick a day after we landed here in Moscow.

The cold wasn't good for her, and I knew performing would make her feel worse so I instructed her to stay in bed.

As soon as I stepped inside the hotel suite, all of my powers were drained from me.

It felt like I couldn't even move.

I took a deep breath and walked further in. I collapsed on the couch without even acknowledging it.

My eyes started to water quickly as I remembered the fact that Evan was still accusing me of doing such horrible things to his son.

I would never hurt a child, never in anyway possible. It wasn't who I am.

Now Evan wants to go public with it... And when he does, I'll be the world's biggest target.
I can see the headlines now: 'Jacko: a Pedophile', 'Michael Jackson Molested a Little Boy'.
It's always like that. When the media gets a story, they tell it as a horrible thing before hearing people out.

It made me sick to my stomach.

Yawning, I closed my eyes for what seemed like a brief second.

~

Brooklyn: I woke up from a cough attack.

Being sick was the one thing I hated most.

I looked around the small bedroom while stretching.

I couldn't remember if Michael returned last night.

Getting up from the bed, I made my way to the bathroom, only to find Michael passed out on the couch.

He looked like he'd been crying.

I crouched down next to him before feeling a sneeze come to my nose.

Unfortunately, I failed turning my head around and sneezed right in his face.

He jumped up.

"Sorry, Mike." I sniffled

My husband smiled slightly and wiped my saliva from his face.

"Don't worry about it, babe. How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I could be better." I said, standing up.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know, but I think we over slept."

He grinned.
I think that was the first time I've seen him genuinely smile in months.

"Thank you for the pleasant wake up call." he kissed me cheek before standing up and disappearing into the bathroom.

~

19th of November, 1993
Brooklyn and Janet are 27, Michael is 35

Brooklyn: "Singer Michael Jackson was said to have molested a child earlier this week-"

I changed the channel.

I was hoping to watch something nice on TV to get my mind off of everything.

Michael was in his office with his lawyers, discussing what to do next.

The 'story' came out a couple of days ago, making the whole world go crazy.

"King of Pop, Michael Jackson, is accused of child molestation. Are the accusations true? Sources say that Jackson has-"

Again, I switched the channel.

A few channels later and more frustration over the media's coverage of this whole thing, I decided to finally shut the TV off completely.

"Mrs. Jackson, are you there?" Bill's voice came through the intercom that was close to the door.

I pressed the button, "Right here, Bill."

"I just wanted to inform you that Ms. Jackson arrived."

The only person the staff ever called 'Ms. Jackson' was Janet.

But what is she doing here, without telling me or Michael that she's coming?

"Thank you."

I got up quickly and started looking for my best friend.

Neither her or Michael saw each other since that night we found out about the allegations. Which, by the way, was the worst thing for him.
He needed his family's support, and especially Janet's.

I needed her as well. Yes, I've known Michael for a very long time. I've spent the last nine years being with him, learning more and more about him every day.

But, Janet knew him better, there was no doubt about that. Since I've never seen him in this kind of situation I didn't know how to help him.

I didn't mind him depending on me for mental support. For nights he cried in my arms.

I called Katherine, and she gladly said that once we finished tour she would come help.
Michael talked on the phone with her non-stop, but it wasn't enough.
He needed his mother.

I stepped outside and couldn't believe my own eyes.

Janet and Brandon were standing next to her car, their tongues wrestling.

"What the hell?" I asked.
They were too far away to even notice I was there.

Brandon pulled away from her to look into her eyes. He caressed her cheek before giving her another quick kiss.

She smiled, hugged him, and turned around to leave.

Janet froze when she saw me.

"Did you see all that?" she bit her bottom lip.

"Why didn't you tell me you and Brandon had a thing going on?" I questioned.

I felt betrayed. She was the first person to know about Michael and I, it seemed obvious that I'd be the one to know she was seeing someone. Plus, being her best friend gave me the right to know before anyone.

And Brandon? When did that happen?

"Don't be mad. I just couldn't say anything with everything going on with Mike. You both have bigger things to worry about other than me and my personal life." my best friend said.

"Don't say that. You're never less than important to me, or Michael."

The feeling of betrayal changed into guilt. I was so busy caring for my husband that I couldn't even see that my best friend was finally happy.

And if someone deserved to be happy with a man it was a Janet.

She suffered a lot from untrustworthy people.

When we were sixteen she lost her virginity to this guy she barely even knew.
Then she came crying to me about it for days, and didn't want to face her family after that.

After him she had a couple more boyfriends, but they weren't serious.

Janet hugged me tightly, "Thank you."

Someone cleared their throat behind us, making us pull away.

Bert, one of Michael's lawyers, leaned on the door frame with his hand in his pockets.

"He's asking for you." he said, nodding his head towards me.

I hugged Janet again before following Bert to my husband's office.

He was sitting behind his desk and the other lawyers were surrounding it.

He looked up at me with a small smile.

The black circles around his big eyes were visible since he didn't bother putting on make up these days. And he's gotten skinnier due to the fact he hasn't eaten much.

"Come here, baby." he said, patting his knee.

I sighed and took a seat on his lap. Honestly, I felt like he would break any moment.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, "Tell her."

"Well," Bert spoke. "We advised Michael to speak publicly about the charges. It shouldn't be something big, just him in front on a camera, explaining the situation. We'll make sure it gets to all the big channels out there. It's just a statement until we prove he's innocent."

"You will prove he's innocent, right?"

"Of course."

"Now that we have that part done, we'll need to sit down with Chandler's side to discuss what it is they want, exactly." another lawyer, Ron, said.

The door bell rang, making us all raise our head.

I stood up to get it, but Michael pulled me back.

"Someone will get it," he told me. "And I know what they want, Ron. Money."

I sighed at his words. I never knew I could hate so much the way I hated Evan Chandler.

A knock on the door was heard.

"Come in."

Helen opened it, "I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. There's a policeman here. He's asking for you."

I felt Michael's body tense under me.

"We could go talk to him for you, Mike, to find out what he wants." Bert suggested.

"No, thank you. You're welcome to join us."

We walked towards the entrance of our home only to find Janet talking to the officer.

More like telling him to get out.

"Miss, don't make me do something I'll regret." he threatened.

"Is there a problem, officer?" I asked.

He completely ignored my question and turned to Michael.

"Mr. Jackson, I come from the Santa Barbara County Sheriff department. I have a search warrant regarding the Jordan Chandler case." he said.

"Show us the warrant." Ron ordered.

"This is addressed to Mr. Jackson only."

"We're his lawyers, now hand it over."

The officer unwillingly gave the printed paper to Bert who had his hand out.

He scanned it quickly, "Michael, it says they need to take pictures of certain body parts, and search the house. If you resist, they could use it against you in court."

"I'll get my search team." the officer smirked.

He turned around to leave, but Janet stopped him.

"Wait a second," she said, her eyebrows furrowed. "Why do you need to take pictures of his body?"

"Jordan Chandler gave a precise description of Mr. Jackson's body." he told her, and turned around again.
This time, he safely made it outside with no interruptions.

I looked at Michael who had a terrified look on his face.

"What- what body parts?" he asked.

"It says lower torso and lower limbs."

Michael breathed out before he started walking back to his office.

"Mike, where are you-" Janet said, but stopped when he collapsed on the floor.

~

I really hope you liked this chapter!!
I will update again very soon, I promise!

~ShoamEmily