You Give Me Fever || Michael Jackson

Chapter 68: Brave

"Michael ... say something ... " I plead.

He's just looking in my direction, almost seeming completely out of it. He's not speaking or reacting; just standing there, his eyes transfixed on my chest area because he's in a trance.

"M-Michael ... " I murmur.

He exhales loudly, then his eyes move upwards to mine. He still doesn't speak; he just nods gently. It's then that I notice a tear roll down his cheek, and a rush of sadness flows through me because of my decision.

"Michael ... I'm sorry I made you cry. Please don't cry ... I've had to make this decision, baby ... "

He closes his eyes, and more fresh tears roll down either side of his face slowly. The pain he must have, knowing I've decided to abort the baby ... especially after Lisa did it, too ... it must be unbearable.

"No ... " he just about manages, "I-I would have cried, no matter what decision you made ... it's human nature sweetheart ... " His voice is weak; pained.

"I'm sorry Michael ... " I apologise tearfully, reaching my hand up to gently caress his cheek, "Too many people don't want me to risk my life ... "

He opens his eyes, and it's then that I notice how glazed-over they are from the amount of tears in them. He licks his lip to rid the dryness, before opening his arms; inviting me in for a hug.

I take the hug quickly, almost collapsing into his arms. I've needed a hug from him since he left this morning. The decision making has been so hard for me ... for him ... for everyone involved. It's been emotional agony.

He squeezes my body tightly, clearly releasing all the emotion he has built up inside of him, whilst I just let him, without saying a single word.

--

"A-And you're sure you want to go through with this, Becky?" Michael asks for what feels like the millionth time today.

It's been two days since we decided about aborting the baby, so now we're in the waiting room of the hospital, anticipating the call of my name so I can get it over with.

"Yes ... there's no going back now, Michael. I have to go through with this ... " I reply sadly.

I'm lying; I don't want to go through with this at all, but I don't want to die either, so ... I'm in a bad situation that I can't get myself out of without losing something.

"Well ... your name will be called within a couple minutes. Do you want me to go in there with you?" he asks sincerely.

All I can do is nod. I lean my head on his shoulder, and he strokes my hair lovingly to comfort me. He whispers "Shh ... " over and over, to calm me down, and it kind of works, to be honest.

... That is, until I hear "Rebecca Summers" being called from the other side of the waiting room. It's bad enough being here; they could at least call me by my preferred name, couldn't they? I prefer Becky any day. Rebecca annoys me.

Nervously, I stand myself up, my hand firmly in Michael's for support. We make our way over to the nurse that just called my name, before we enter a room. The room is full of posters about pregnancy and abortion – which was predictable, being in the maternity section of the hospital.

"Good evening, Miss Summers; Mr Jackson. I understand you're here today for an abortion?" the nurse asks politely.

I nod, "Yes ... an abortion ... "

"And the reason for this abortion is—"

"My fiancée has cancer, so we're doing it for her benefit, sadly," Michael intervenes.