I Am...Yours (MJ & Beyonce Love Story)

Cry Me a River **Slick Rated R**

Beyonce's POV

Michael had me sitting in the dining room waiting on Doctor Reese. Michael wasn't playing anymore. After the plane incident and the phone calls Michael began planning out a panic room in Momma's house and even at Neverland, which already has heavy security. I heard Doctor Reese come in. "I know Michael. I'm a professional!" She exclaimed irritatedly as Michael went over a checklist he had. Doc walked in and I noticed another woman behind her. "Hello mother, how are you feeling?"

"Good..just nervous." We were in the final three months of my pregnancy. I really wanted to get back to business. I didn't like not working for long periods of time. It was killing me and my swollen body was too. I rubbed my stomach and watched as Doctor Reese and her nurse, I assumed, sat down. "Bey, don't get upset but I hired a midwife for you," Michael cautiously explained to me. "What's bad about a midwife? How come I didn't have one when I popped those two kids out two years ago?" I asked. Michael shrugged. "Dumbass," I hissed quietly. "Beyonce this is your midwife Nurse Denise. She's going to be staying in the house with you for your pregnancy. Michael said you're having a homebirth."

I glared at Michael. "I did?" "The hospital was too much last time. Especially with twins." I rubbed my bottom lip. "Mrs. Jackson, we want to make sure you're in a safe and comfortable environment," Nurse Denise said. I nodded and glanced at the twins running past us. I looked at my belly. "Do you think my son will have problems Doc?" Doc frowned and so did Michael.

"Problems?"

"A baby can have developmental problems later in life when it is conceived during a stressful time in a mother's life," I quoted, "so in other words, will my son have problems in the real world? Functioning in life? Being normal? Because this hasn't been the happiest pregnancy every." Michael glanced at me. "Bey," he reached for my hand, but I pulled back. "I need to know Doc. Even though I know already, he won't be like the twins will he?" Doc had her hand to her mouth and didn't speak for a few minutes. "We won't know until he arrives, but we need to get the homebirth plan ready for you."

That didn't answer my fucking question!

"No Doc!" I shouted "Will my son be retarded because of me? Or will he be dsylexic or will he have mental issues! Will he be able to handle life Doctor Reese?! You're supposed to know these fucking answers!" I shouted. "Bey calm down," Michael whispered. He grabbed my waist, but I pushed him back. "It's all your fucking fault! If I hadn't got pregnant, if I hadn't gotten married, if I'd NEVER MET YOU I wouldn't be in this situation!!!" I hollered at the top of my lungs. Tears of fiery fury threatened to overcome me. Michael stared me. His eyes wide. I pushed pasted him and stormed out the door. I heard Michael call my name.

I padded down the street as fast as my swollen feet allowed me,but I was just so mad! I didn't deserve any of this! I was near the edge of the gated neighborhood when I heard a car pull up behind me. I turned around and saw Michael pulling up. I made a bee-line for the nature beyond the line of property. "Bey!" Michael hollered. I kept walking until I was in a meadow. Michael stopped yelling when he was about ten feet away from me.

"Beyonce."

I took a deep breath as I inhaled the flowers. "I don't deserve this. None of us do, especially Michael Jr." I put a trembling hand on my baby. "I really wish I did better. I really wish I did," I said, still not facing Michael. I could feel the pain radiating off of him.

"I just want our kids to be safe and happy...but I can't! Dammit Michael!"

I turned around. I didn't care that the tears were evident to him. "Dammit, I don't understand what the fuck is happening to me! It's not even fair at this point!" Michael listened to every word I had to say. "I can't even sleep at night, because I think somebody is going to die because of us! That's how I feel! And then our children, they ask me "Momma when can I go home? I miss my toys and my room Momma." It's hard as hell, because I don't even think I'm going to live to see my son hit eighteen."