I am so sorry for the long wait, I had a busy week!

~ShoamEmily

~

16th of June, 2009
Brooklyn is 43, Michael is 50

Brooklyn: "Honey, dinner is ready!" my mother called from the kitchen.

"I'm not hungry, mom." I said, leaning back on their comfortable armchair.

"Sweetheart," dad sighed. "You haven't eaten in two days. It's not good for you or the baby."

"I don't care about this baby. I'm not hungry."

"Sweetheart-"

"Don't lecture me, dad." I snapped.

He raised up his hands in surrender, "Did you talk to Michael today?"

"No." I rolled my eyes at my husband's name.

"Maybe you should give him a call to see how he's doing. And maybe let the kids talk to him, they miss him." my dad suggested.

I shook my head.

Was I worried about Michael? Yes, absolutely. But I was so disappointed in him.

"Sweetheart, I know you're mad at him, but why does it have to come at the expense of your baby's health? He needs to eat, and so do you. Please, if not for yourself, than for me." dad pleaded.

He offered me a hand. I sighed and took it. He helped me stand, smiling at me.

Just as we started walking to the dining room, my phone rang in my pocket.

I took it out, scrunching my eyebrows as I looked at Kenny Ortega's name blaring on the screen.

I decided go ignore it, and joined my dad.

He can leave a message.

~

"Goodnight, mommy." Paris kissed my cheek.

She gave my bump a rub before going upstairs with Marie.

The rest of my kids were already upstairs, all of them in their beds.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see if Kenny left a message.

He did, and not just one, but five.

"Brooklyn, I'm calling about Michael. Please, give me a call back, I have to talk to you." he said in the first one.

The rest were the same, and as much as he sounded hysteric, I deleted all of the messages he left.

I was not in the mood to talk about my husband, especial not with Kenny.

"Here you go, sweetheart." dad smiled as he walked into the living room with two mugs in his hand.

"Hot cocoa?" I perked up. I used to love it when my dad made me hot cocoa as a child.

"You know it." he put one of the mugs in my hand.

He sat next to me, placing his hand over my stomach, "I'm so proud of you. Five grandchildren? That's more than a grandfather could ask for..."

"Six. You forgot Jason." I giggled.

My dad joined me. The baby probably heard me laughing, because he started kicking.

Dad gasped since he never actually felt him. I just let him feel the baby while sipping on my drink.

For the past week I really hated feeling him kick. Each time my baby was moving it reminded me of Michael, and I instantly started crying.

"So you never actually told me what you and Michael fought about."

I sighed. "He was selfish. He did something that could hurt him, without thinking about anyone else. Not me, not the baby... Not even the kids. It's like we don't matter anymore. His first priority right now is his career. I knew it would come one day, I get it, and I don't care anymore."

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry-"

My phone rang, interrupting my father. Of course, non other than Kenny's name popped up on the screen.

"I gotta take this. Excuse me," I said, getting up. "Yes, Kenny?"

I made my way to my parents' backyard and closed the door behind me.

"Brooklyn, thank Goodness. I've been trying to reach you all evening!" Kenny told me.

"I'm sorry, I have kids to take care of, you know." I rolled my eyes.

"Listen, I'm calling about Michael. He's in a really bad shape. I think you should go check on him."

"I would appreciate it if you don't give me advice on what to do with my husband."

"Brooklyn," he muttered my name. "I know you found out, and I understand why you're mad-"

"Woah, hold up. You know about Dr. Murray?" I asked.

"Of course I do. Michael tells me everything." he answered.

And to think I was feeling sorry for him for a split second.

"Well, at least he told one of us. Goodbye, Kenny."

"Wait, Brooke!" he called. "He needs you. You and the kids are all he has."

"He should've thought about us before doing something so radical."

Kenny sighed deeply. "Okay, I agree that turning to drugs wasn't the best solution. But he's really not himself anymore. Come to rehearsals tomorrow, you'll see what I mean when I say he's out of it. Please. He'll just be happy to see your face."

Maybe I should go see what he's talking about... But why do I care so much? Michael didn't care about me and the kids when he did what he did.

"Bye, Kenny." I hung up.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? You seem pretty upset. Was it Michael?" dad questioned when I walked back inside.

"No, it was nothing, dad. Here, I'm going to sleep." I gave him the mug I was still holding.

"Goodnight." he hugged me, placing a kiss on my forehead.

I didn't want to sleep alone tonight. I felt so lonely these nights without Michael by my side to hold me. Still, I had to remind myself that he didn't really sleep with me for the past month.

I reached my childhood bedroom, where Paris decided she was sleeping, and knocked on the door.

My daughter opened it with a smile on her face. "Hey, mommy."

"Can I come in?" I asked.

"It's your room." she laughed.

She opened the door wider and let me in.

"It's really nice, mommy. I never knew I'd see so many records in one place." Paris complimented.

I saw 'Thriller' on the bed. It made me frown, and she noticed.

"I'll put it back. But I really liked what daddy wrote for you inside," she picked it up. "It's really cute. 'To my favorite girl in the whole world, I hope you enjoy listening to this record as much as I enjoyed making it. With love, MJ'. Were you dating when he wrote this?"

I shook my head. "We only started dating two years later."

"Daddy seemed to really love you even before."

"Parry, can I please sleep with you tonight? I'm kind of lonely." I hurried to change the subject.

"Sure." she said and put the record back in its place.

I slid into bed, my eyes instantly falling on the pictures on the wall in front of me.

The first one was of my and my dad when I was only 7 years old. The one next to it was Chris and I, hugging. Then came the the picture of me and Janet when we were 16.

The very last picture was taken by Janet. I was sitting on Michael's lap. His arm was around my waist, and he was kissing my cheek. My face was so red.

Paris lay next to me, a sigh leaving her lips, "It's a beautiful picture, mommy."

"Which one?" I questioned.

"The one of you and daddy."

"Can we stop talking about daddy?" I groaned.

"But I miss him." she mumbled.

"Then you should've stayed with him when he gave you the choice." I snorted.

"If I stayed home you'd be mad."

She knows me too well.

"Goodnight, baby." I turned my back to her.

"Goodnight, mommy."

~

17th of June, 2009
Brooklyn is 43, Michael is 50

Brooklyn: I shifted uncomfortably in my seat next to Kenny.

I decided to go see what he was talking about. He sounded too worried for me not to.

"He should be here any minute." Kenny said.

I nodded, adjusting my shirt. Everybody who passed us was either surprised to see me, or stared at my bump for a few seconds.

"There's the man!" one of the dancers yelled.

Kenny stood up as Michael walked in. I looked at him, my heart breaking.

The clothes he was wearing hid the fact that he lost weight, but his face was the skinniest I've ever seen. And it seemed like he was trembling.

I was doing everything to stop myself from getting up and attacking him in a hug.

He didn't notice me at all when Kenny pulled him into a hug.

Kenny whispered something in his ear. My husband removed his sunglasses and looked directly at me.

I slightly waved to him. He approached me quietly, making me a bit nervous.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as I stood up.

"You promised me I could come to see you rehearse, so here I am." I answered.

He nodded. "How are the kids?"

"They're having fun."

Michael sighed, looking down at my bump. A smile spread across his face.

"He grew so much." he said.

"I know." I smiled back.

I couldn't handle it anymore. I wrapped my arms tightly around his skinny figure, never wanting to let go.

Only now I realized how thin he really got.

"Jesus, Mike... Are you even eating?" I asked him quietly.

"Whenever I feel like it..." he murmured.

I tightened my arms around him even more.

"Are you coming home?" Michael whispered after a few moments of silence.

"Depends. Are you gonna stop?"

"I promise. I'll never let Dr. Murray in our house again."

"You always promise..."

"Please, you have to believe me this time... I'm really, really, really, sorry... I miss you and the kids so much. Just please come home, I need you at home."

He was going to to burst into tears, and I didn't want that to happen. I was too sensitive to see him cry, plus, these people around us looked up to him. I didn't want them to see him so vulnerable.

"Okay," I agreed. "We'll be home before you get there."

He kissed my head, letting out a relieved breath. "I'll probably come home around 8. Got some things to take care of."

I looked at him and saw the small tears that he let escape from his eyes. I went up on my toes, giving his lips a soft kiss.

"I'll see you tonight." Michael crouched down in front of my bump, and placed a long kiss on it.

~

Michael: "Brooklyn? Kids? Are you home?" I yelled through the house.

The entire day I've doubted if she would come home, because I knew I lost her trust. I let her down so many times, I saw no reason for her to forgive me again.

"Mommy, I think daddy's home!" I heard Blanket in the distance.

I put a hand over my heart, happy to hear his voice. I missed my children so much.

"Daddy!" he squealed when he saw me.

I almost fell down as he hugged me.

"Blanket, I can't breathe..." I said while his small arms squeezed me.

My three other kids joined him. Even Prince was happy to see me, which surprised me. I thought he'd hate me for making his mother cry her eyes out.

"Kids, your dad's turning blue." Brooklyn chuckled.

The kids let me go, making me release the breath I was holding.

"Who's hungry?" my wife smiled. "I made dinner."

I must be dreaming. It's like everything is back to normal.

"Mike?"

"Yeah, I'll eat." I told her.

Brooke looked at our four awaiting children, "Paris, take your brothers to wash their hands."

They all ran to the nearest bathroom to do as their mother said.

I followed her quietly to the kitchen, where she pulled me into a long kiss.

"Remember what you promised me in 1993, after you fainted and I found out about what you were taking- you know..." she said when we pulled away.

I shook my head, "Refresh my memory..."

"You promised I won't lose you. Is that promise still relevant?"

"Of course."

"Was Dr. Murray here while we were gone?"

I looked down in shame, not wanting to look into her judging eyes.

"Michael, answer me. I won't get mad, I promise." Brooklyn said.

"He was here a few times..." I admitted.

"Look at me." she ordered.

I hesitated for a few seconds before looking up. I met her eyes, and they burned a hole inside my heart when the tears filled them.

"You don't need him anymore, okay? I'm here, and I'll help you get all the sleep you need. You won't take anything, you hear me? No sleeping pills, no Propofol... Absolutely nothing."

"Yes." I said quietly, although I knew I was lying to both her and myself.

~

"Daddy, what's wrong, why aren't you eating? This is your favorite." Kamron asked me, looking worried as I played with the food on my plate.

"I ate a few hours ago." I shrugged.

Again with the lies.

Never in my life have I lied to my children, and it broke my heart to do it. But I didn't want them to worry about me, too. Brooke being worried as hell was enough.

Honestly, I lost my appetite. The only thing I ate these days were pre-made sandwiches that were handed out in rehearsals. Even then, I only ate half of the sandwich I took.

"I made it especially for you, Mike." Brooke pouted.

I sighed, instantly feeling bad. I've complained to her that I miss her cooking, and when she finally cooks, I'm not hungry.

"Fine, I'll eat a bit." I said and took a bite from the fried chicken she made.

A grin spread across her face, making my heart break more.

~

I finished putting on my pajamas, quickly getting into bed like Brooke instructed me to.

"I made you some Chamomile tea, it's really helpful when it comes to falling asleep." she said, giving me a cup of hot tea.

"Thanks, babe."

"After you finish that, I'll give your back a nice massage to loosen up those muscles. So drink up."

I smiled gratefully, allowing myself to check out her body. She was wearing very tight maternity pajamas, probably because she didn't have time to buy herself more clothes, and this baby was growing rapidly.

Brooke sat down on the bed in front of me, legs crossed.

"I'm so excited to see how much he grew." she put a hand on her belly.

"Me too, babe." I told her.

"I think he knew you were away," she sighed. "He wouldn't stop kicking. My dad went absolutely crazy, he just kept feeling him..."

I held in my laughter as she went on, telling me about what our tiny baby did inside her for the week she wasn't here.

"Oh, my Gosh. Brooklyn, you're going into baby mode. You are glowing." I finally allowed myself to let out a chuckle.

"Can you blame me?" her cheeks flushed red.

"No, keep going, I love hearing you talk about him."

She put on a slight frown, "Why aren't you drinking? It'll get cold."

"I don't know, do I really need it? You know I don't believe in these kind of things." I muttered.

"But I read it could be helpful... Come on, don't you want to sleep like a normal person, without depending on, you know...? Please just give it a try..."

"I guess." I shrugged.

Brooklyn showed her beautiful set of teeth as she watched me drink my tea slowly.

"Thank you," she said. "For keeping your promise."

I closed my eyes, and guilt filled my heart again.

~

18th of June, 2009
Brooklyn is 43, Michael is 50

Brooklyn: Michael fell asleep halfway into the massage I was giving him.

I gently rolled off of him. He really was asleep. I couldn't even remember the last time I saw him this peaceful.

I covered us with the blanket, feeling really tired all of a sudden.

Don't fall asleep.

I wanted to stay up in case he would wake up, too, and I could be there to help him go back to sleep, because I didn't expect him to sleep an entire night.

Turning to my husband, I looked at his relaxed expression.

~

Two hours later, Michael woke up for the first time.

I cuddled him, and surprisingly he fell back asleep in no time.

But another hour passed by. I fell asleep along with him, so I vaguely heard him get out of bed.

I opened my eyes just as he closed the bedroom door behind him. Sighing, I followed him.

He skipped down the stairs, then entered the library. It was much smaller than the library we had at Neverland, but it was still an escape for him sometimes. There were days he'd pick up a book and start reading, and I wouldn't see him the entire day until he finished it.

Michael sat quietly on the big white sofa in the middle of the room with a book in his hands. His glasses were fixed on the bridge of his nose while his eyes read fast.

"Mike, come back to bed." I said.

"I can't." he flipped a page.

"Yes, you can. You just gotta close your eyes and sleep."

He groaned, "Nothing works, Brooke. Do you really think tea and cuddles could solve this problem I have? Let me take a pill or two, I might just get a little more sleep."

"You don't need pills, Michael. What you need is to relax."

"Please." he begged.

"Let's go back to bed." I told him.

I walked in front of him, taking off his glasses. Next, I put the book he was reading next to him and helped him on his feet.

I held his hand shaking hand tight. "I promise you'll sleep tonight."

~

"You know what I'm scared of?" Michael asked me when he woke up for the third time.

"This tour not going smoothly?"

"No, that's the one thing I hope goes well," he said. "I'm scared this baby will think I'm too old to be his dad. I'll be 61 when he's 10-years-old. My parents already had a few grandchildren when they were at that age. Your parents were my age when they became grandparents..."

"My parents don't count. And he won't think you're old. He'll love you unconditionally, for who you are, just like the other kids love you."

"You can't know that."

"Of course I can, you're his daddy. I also know that every time you talk he reacts, and every time we fight he knows something's wrong with his daddy... He loves you even now, when he still doesn't know who you really are." I kissed his cheek.

He sighed and hid his face in the crook of my neck, "You know just how to cheer me up. I needed to hear that."

"What you need is sleep." I said, pulling away.

"Would you sing for me?"

I raised my eyebrows, then laughed. "Me? Michael, come on. I'm a dancer, not a singer."

"You think I don't know you, babe? You can sing. Should I remind you about that time I caught you and Dunk singing 'I'll Be There' while there was a Motown 25 rerun on TV?"

"That was 20 years ago." I scoffed.

"Oh, please... It might help me sleep..." Michael looked at me with those big brown eyes of his.

"You and I must make a pact..." I sang softly.

"Keep going."

"We must bring salvation back
Where there is love, I'll be there..."

"I'll reach out my hand to you, I'll have faith in all you do," he smiled as he joined me. "See? Your singing isn't that awful..."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Can you please continue?"

I sighed, "Just call my name..."

"And I'll be there." he smiled.

"I love you, Mike."

"I love you, too, Brooklyn."

My husband closed the distance between us, his arms wrapping around my body. He placed a small kiss on my lips.

For the rest of the night Michael actually slept; with no interruptions whatsoever.