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

Michael: I groaned as I started to wake up.

The last thing I remembered was Bert telling me about the warrant, then everything went black.

Every part of my body hurt; a horrible pain I couldn't even describe.

An IV pinched my arm and oxygen tubes were stuck in my nose to help me breathe.

"Hey." Brooklyn, who was sitting on a chair next to the hospital bed, whispered.

She was holding my hand tight, like she was afraid to lose me.

My vision was still a bit blurry, but I could see that she had been crying.

When my vision became clearer I recognized the look on her face told me she found out. It made me look down in shame.

"The doctor said your body went into shock. And you were dehydrated badly," she sighed. "The worst part about this was when he told me they found a high dose of Demerol in your blood. He then told me what Demerol was and I broke down."

She put a finger on my chin and made me look at her.

"Remember that night before you started treatment, you told Julia that once you start, you'd never go back to the pills. Why would you throw everything we worked on, everything you worked on, away?" a tear slid down her cheek.

I didn't have words to say. She knew exactly why I've been taking medication again.

That's not what she's asking, stupid.

"I'm sorry." my voice was barely heard.

"I'm not the one who deserves an apology, Michael."

I knew what my wife meant. I was abusing myself and no one else. She was just crying over it, after I scared her the way I did.

She was crying now, hard. The tears just didn't stop flowing out of her eyes. "You almost died, Michael. They said... They said that if you had kept up with it just a few more days, I'd probably wake up with you dead next to me."

"Don't say that." I told her.

"But it's true! I understand you're hurting. I understand your pain, I do. But you have to trust me to help through that pain, without depending on drugs. You've done so well for almost two years, what changed?"

I could feel my heart beating faster as I wanted to answer her.
Yet, my mouth wouldn't open.

Everything changed. Evan Chandler broke my heart, along with Jordie.

Brooke wiped her tears and stood up.

"Don't go." I begged.

"I'll be back, I'm just calling everyone. They're sitting outside, you had us worried sick." she said.

I put my head back on my pillow and bit my lip as I tried to hold back the tears.

I messed up again.

~

Brooklyn: Katherine hugged me before going into Michael's room with the other family members.

I tried avoiding eye contact with them. But Janet being Janet, she waited until everyone was out of our sight.

"What did the doctor say?" she asked.

"That his body went into shock and he was dehydrated. That's it." I lied.

She crossed her arms over her chest, "He's been taking pills again, right?"

Completely ignoring her, I walked up to Brandon who was guarding the waiting room along with the other bodyguards.

"Take me home." I ordered.

"Brooke-"

"Take. Me. Home."

He sighed and opened the door for me to exit.

"You can't be serious, Brooke. He needs you." Janet said.

"Apparently he doesn't, since he almost killed himself. I guess I'm not that important to him." I spat.

She looked at me, shocked.

I knew I was being selfish, but after what the doctor said, I lost it.

I couldn't even imagine a life without Michael.

"What do you mean, 'he almost killed himself?'"

"The doctor told me that if he would've kept abusing medication just a few more days, I would find him dead. He said we were lucky that Michael went into shock, or else it would've actually happened."

With that, I pulled Brandon's arm and made him drive me home.

In the car, I cried to myself.

I can't live without him. What the hell was he thinking, taking so much?!

"He didn't mean it, you know. He's just hurt, and confused." Brandon said.

"Don't defend him. He is a grown ass man, who can take responsibility for his actions. Just imagine what could've happened if he did push it to the limit." I told him.

I saw him flinch; just like me, Brandon didn't want to think about it.

"I just need to inform you that the house is a mess. They tore it down. I know that the staff started cleaning, but it still looks like shit." he mumbled.

While we were taking Michael to the hospital after he passed out, the Santa Barbara County Sheriff department search team raided Neverland.

They took the chance of us being at the hospital to search for evidence.

Like they would even find any.

"Assholes." I muttered under my breath.

Brandon smirked at my comment, and pulled up to the gates.

Once I was in the house, everybody's eyes were on me.

They were cleaning, taking out broken things, and tried to organize and make everything the way it was.

"Did they enter our room?" I asked Helen.

She only nodded slightly.

"They said it was the primary scene."

I took a deep breath and went upstairs.

My heart sank when I saw everything turned over.
The mattress of our bed was torn in the middle, the headboard was broken.

Things were thrown on the floor. I gasped and covered my mouth as I saw our wedding album among those things.

I hurried to pick it up, to see if any damage was done to it.

The first picture, the picture of us sealing our marriage with a kiss, was torn in the middle.

I mentally cursed those bastards.

How can they possibly think our wedding pictures could be evidence?!

I held the album close to my chest as I walked through the chaos that was now our room.

Our closets were a mess as well; every piece of clothing was thrown away.

Then I remembered the real reason I was here instead of at the hospital.

Walking to the bathroom (that was also trashed), I searched for a hiding place where Michael might've put his pills.

I got frustrated quickly when I couldn't find them.

I went back to the room and took the phone. I hurried to dial Dan's number.

"Dan?" I asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Jackson?" he said.

"Are you still at the hospital?"

"Of course."

"Give me my husband." I said sternly.

I heard him sigh and open a door.

Voices were heard from his line, until I heard Michael's groggy one.

"You said you're not going." his voice cracked.

Ignoring his hurt tone, I looked around the room.

"Where are the pills?" I said, a bit too harshly.

I was pissed. I wasn't sure if at him and what he did, or at the state our home was left in.

"Don't do this, Brooke. Please."

"Tell me where they are, Michael. Now."

He sighed and sniffled, "Top left shelf in the cabinet, behind my cologne."

I returned to the bathroom and checked.

Three pill bottles were stacked behind his cologne.
"Are there more?"

He was silent. All I could hear was his breathing.

"Michael Joseph Jackson, answer me. Are there more?"

"In the drawers next to the bath." he whispered.

I found ten more bottles in there.

"That's it?" I asked.

"That's it." Michael answered.

"You aren't lying to me?"

"No, I swear. That's it." the honesty was clear in his voice.

"Come back." he begged.

My anger subsided.
"I will," I said. "In a couple of hours. I need to help the staff clean up here."

"Why?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it after I realized that I shouldn't tell him what was done to Neverland.
It would crush him.

"Don't worry about it. I promise I'll be there soon." I told him and hung up before he could say another word.

I put the phone next to the sink. Then, I took each bottle and spilled the pills into the toilet.

~

Janet: Michael sighed and gave the phone back to Dan.

He had tears in his eyes and tried avoiding our worried looks.

"What happened to Neverland?" he asked, looking down.

I looked at my brothers and sisters, all of us unsure if to tell him or not.

"Tell me. What happened to my home?" he asked again.

"They took advantage of you and Brooke being here... They searched the house, all of it." I answered.

He inhaled sharply.

"Michael, honey, it's going to be okay." Mother rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Could you all just... Go? I want to be alone." he mumbled.

"Of course, lil' bro. Feel better. And don't scare us like that again." Jermaine smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Everyone fled out of room, but I stayed put.

"Dunk, go." Michael said.

"Not until Brooke gets back." I took the seat next to his bed where my mother just sat.
He knew he didn't have a point in arguing with me about it.

"Then can you shut the lights off? I wanna sleep."

I did as he asked and sat back down.

He had trouble trying to fall asleep, but eventually did. Or so I thought.
This whole situation and what led to it made him mentally tired, he was completely worn out.

I sighed and decided to try to take a nap myself on the armchair in the corner of the room.

I soon fell asleep, never acknowledging that my brother never really did.

~

Brooklyn: With our wedding album in my hand I opened Michael's room door.

It was dark. I noticed Janet sleeping peacefully on the armchair, her knees curled up.

"You're here." my husband's voice was heard in the dark.

I looked at him and my heart broke.

He'd been crying, a lot.

"Do me a favor," he said, nodding towards Janet. "Wake her up and ask Brandon to take her home."

I shook her knee, "Jan, wake up. You need to go home."

She groaned and opened her eyes.

She looked at Michael and then back at me.
"Do I have to?"

I nodded. Michael would never refuse to having her around, but I knew he wanted just the both of us to be together right now.

She got up and stretched, then walked out the door, not before saying goodbye and hugging me.

I turned on the lights only to find Michael's red, puffy, eyes staring at me.

"Why did you bring our wedding pictures?" he asked.

"I... I found it on the floor in our room. Apparently they thought something was weird about our wedding." I answered.

I opened to the first picture and showed it to him. His eyes widened.

"They didn't. Oh, God, they ruined it." he murmured.

I took a seat on the edge of the bed and intertwined out fingers.

He took the album from me to check if anything else was ruined.

Michael smiled as he went through the pictures.
"We need to go through these more."

"Mmhm." I agreed.

He stopped flipping through the pages, examining a picture of Janet and I with him in the middle, each one of us was kissing a cheek.

I loved these moments, when we forgot all our problems and focused on us.

His mood changed suddenly and he closed the album with a little too much force.

"What did you do with the pills?" he asked in a low voice.

"I threw them in the toilet," I said. "I'm gonna call Julia, and your treatment team and you're starting it again."

"Fine."

I leaned down to kiss his plump lips.

"I love you." my husband said when we broke apart.

I haven't heard him say that in so long.

Thinking about what might've happened if he took too much pills, the tears stung my eyes.

~

Michael: Brooke cried, making my heart break.

"Don't cry." I pleaded.

"I don't want to lose you, Michael." she said through tears.

I pulled her to me and caressed her hair.

It completely tore me apart to know she was crying over my wrong doing.

"You won't. I promise, you won't." I said, meaning it.

The last time this happened she was stronger.

But the last time you didn't almost die.

Was I afraid of death? Yes, terrified. And to know I'll probably leave this world, leave her and my family, because of something as stupid as drugs, wasn't even something to consider.

I felt her chest go up and down on mine as she tried to calm herself down.

"I thought maybe after this whole things is over, we could start your treatment somewhere deserted. To clear our heads, to be alone." Brooklyn said.

It actually seemed like a great idea; I didn't know if our home would be the place to go through rehab again, especially after those assholes ruined it.

"It sounds perfect." I kissed the top of her head.

~

5th of December, 1993
Brooklyn is 27, Michael is 35

Brooklyn: "I can't believe they're making me do this." Michael said with tears in his eyes.

I looked at him through the mirror and rubbed his shoulders.

He turned around to face me, his expression begging me to try and convince the camera man in the other room to let this go. Again.

There was no use in even trying. Those people outside the door wanted to do this to him, no matter how many time we tried talking them out of it.

"Remember what we said? You get this over with, then they'll have no proof of your guilt." I smiled, wiping his tears.

I gave his lips a soft peck.

My husband nodded, "Just as long as you're not there. It's so humiliating."

"I promised I'd stay out, right? I'll only come if you ask me to." I told him.

"Thank you." he smiled weakly.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

~

"That's enough." I heard Bert say.

I flinched. Poor Michael.

The door flung open and the camera man came out with two cops following him.

I passed them quickly and saw Michael in the corner of the room, all curled up in himself.

I looked down at my defeated husband.
This has gone way too far.

"It was horrible," he cried, making me sit next to him so I could hold him in my arms. "They took a picture of every little detail."

I hugged him tighter when the tears formed in my eyes as well.

Bert approached us with an apologetic look on his face, "Mike, I promise you, this is gonna be over soon."