Warning: sexual detail later on in the chapter ... gosh, it's been a while since I've said that. :o

June 2, 1994

"Becky, can I sit next to Miracle in the car to Jasper and Charlie's?" a very excitable Ollie asks me.

Today, Michael and I are having some quality time together without the kids. For the past couple weeks, we've spent every second as a family, so now us grown ups want a little bit of time without the noisiness of the children. Apart from night times and the times before we get up for the day, we never really get any time alone. It'll be nice to have that today.

A small laugh comes from my lips, as I lift Ollie carefully into my arms. He's very light for his age, and still rather innocent-minded, so he still receives joy from being lifted up, even at eleven years old.

"You wanna sit next to Miracle?" I repeat his question softly, "Well, I'm sure Michael will let you do that. You like Miracle don't you?"

His little eyes light up, "Yeah! She's the best little sister ever." He wraps his arms around my neck to keep him upright, "I can't wait to have my own Miracle when I'm older."

My lips press against his forehead in a motherly kiss, "Well, when you're older, maybe you'll find the right girl to be your little Miracle's mommy, and then you'll be able to have your own, sweetie." A smile forms on my face as I set him down, then he runs over to the window to look out for Jasper's car.

Michael enters moments later, with Jason at his side, and Miracle in his arms. He exchanges glances with me, before averting his eyes towards the window that Ollie is stood at. "Ah, Jasper's here," Michael says, guiding the children out of the living room, outside.

Jasper gets out the car as Michael reaches him, then he spots me and waves. It's been a couple weeks since I properly saw my best friend, so it's nice to see his face again. He also blows a kiss from outside, which I blow back, accompanied by a smile. Then, his attention turns back to Michael, as they converse briefly. After their quick chat, Jasper helps get the kids in the car, before getting in himself and driving away.

Once his car is out of sight, Michael turns around to see me through the window, then grins and waves at me. Finding it amusing, I roll my eyes and shake my head, waving back playfully. He then raises his eyebrows three times in quick succession, a seductive expression on his face, causing me to laugh.

He enters the house once again, meeting me in the living room. "So ... now that we're alone, we can do anything we want," he reminds me.

"Where do we start?" I ask, taking a step closer to him, so that we're only inches away from one another, "Cos personally, I got a lot of ideas." My tone quickly becomes somewhat flirtatious; it's been forever since we've been able to do any of what we may be doing today.

He looks down on me, wrapping his arms around my waist soon after, a sexy smirk playing on his lips, "Well, I don't know, but it better start happening fast, whatever it is." His expression becomes somewhat desperate; as if he has a sense of urgency within him to love me just like he used to before everything went wrong with my health.

"Then just let it happen, you complete idiot," I name-call teasingly, prodding his chest with my index finger. But then, memories of when we first got together fill my mind; the times when all I had to do was draw circles on his chest with my finger to turn him on. I'd like to relive those times, to see if they still exist.

Since my index finger is still pressed against his chest, I might as well make use of that. Slowly, it starts to create little circles over the clothing that covers his skin, instantly shallowing his breathing. He exhales through his mouth, partially chuckling with it, before taking a hold of my wrist and pulling my hand away from him.

My eyebrows furrow, as I give him my best pout. He takes no time to explain, "Girl, at least wait until we're in the bedroom, right?" he requests, his tone gradually lowering in pitch and volume.

So, we both make our way up the stairs, to the bedroom, and once we arrive, Michael closes the bedroom door, despite there being no one in. He allows me onto the bed first, then he joins, hovering over me, using his elbows to prop himself up.

"Boy ... it's been forever since I've been able to experience this," he states, still short of breath from a few moments ago, "But now I'm gonna make the most of it, cos we've got some time alone."

"We sure have," I answer, my voice gradually becoming quieter, "I love you."

"I love you so much more," he retorts, his eyes capturing mine. Because of how close he is to me, it makes it easy for him to kiss my nose gently, and when he does, it causes me to giggle like a little girl, "So, so much more, sweetheart."

"Not possible. I love you the most," I argue playfully, nuzzling my head against his.

"But what if I love you more than even the most?" he questions, giving me a confused glance, which is obviously fake, "Cos I think that's very possible, Miss Summers."

"Miss Summers ... " I breathe, a frown starting to form on my face, "When will that nickname of mine change to Mrs Jackson?"

Michael then frowns the way I'm doing, before rolling over to lie next to me. "Well, after all that's been happening lately, we haven't really been thinking about a wedding ... have we?" he starts. Before he continues, he wraps his arms around me from the side, bringing me closer to him, "And now there's a year and a half to do it in, so ... we'll make it happen. We'll make it happen soon, okay? You will be my wife before it's too late."

Those words both frighten me, and make me happy. I've been waiting for a time that feels like forever to get married at last ... but now I have that knowledge that I'll be married before I die, it's just a little ... overwhelming.

"Before it's too late," I exhale, still trying to take those words in properly, "Before it's ... too late."

"That's the wrong phrase," Michael corrects himself, a guilty look on his face, "I meant that, like—"

"You don't have to pussyfoot around reality, Michael. I'm gonna die; we both know that. We might as well just be blunt about the whole thing ... "

"But being blunt hurts me, Becky. I know you're hurting because of all of this ... it's understandable; of course it is. But I want you to remember that all of this is killing me, too. It's killing me to see such a beautiful, wonderful, special young woman like you having to suffer through all this ... I mean, you're twenty-eight years old, for crying out loud! You're just ... I can't believe how brave you are. I know ... millions and millions of other people are going through this but ... I'm not living it with anyone else, so I can't judge their journey. Yours, however, I can, and you're just ... so, so inspirational."

Michael's little speech is so cute, but at the same time, it's hard for me to take in because I hate the idea of Michael being so badly hurt by me and my suffering. That just goes to show how much he cares – he's hurting, not just for himself, but for me. In fact, mostly for me. That just tells me how much he loves me.

Having had no response from me, he gives me a look of anticipation, obviously waiting for me to respond to his little speech. To be honest, I'm struggling to find the right words to say to him.

"I-I don't know what to say, Michael. Just ... I know you're hurting too, and ... I-I ... I'm all over the place." Then I give up, remaining silent.

He exhales quietly through his nose, "You don't have to say anything. I know you're feeling overwhelmed about all this; it's only natural. It just makes me sad that I haven't been able to improve your health. I mean, I'm a doctor! I'm meant to help you! But what have I done? Not a lot, really. I spotted your Jaundice before you were diagnosed; that's about it. I wish I could do more ... "

A puzzled expression spreads across my face, "More? Michael, are you serious? You can't do any more than you're already doing. Being here for me is more than what a lot of people have done. You've been the greatest partner a person could ask for, babe."

He leans closer to me, kissing my lips sweetly as a sign of appreciation from what I've just said. Because it's been forever since we've prescribed "medication" to one another, I allow the kiss to deepen, probably the opposite of what his intentions were previously, as I crawl out of his arms, instead lying on top of his body.

His fingers gently run up my arms, to my shoulders, before caressing my neck and making their way behind my head to support my head's position. He applies pressure to the back of my head, forcing us even closer together. Whilst this is happening, my hands reach up to his curls, and I allow my fingers to grasp a handful.

"I love you," Michael moans into my mouth, his feelings probably building up within him significantly right now.

Had I have not been feeling so much pleasure from just a kiss, I would have replied to him by now. So instead of replying, my tongue slips into his mouth, his tongue returning the favour only seconds later, creating a French kiss. Carefully, he rolls us both over, so he's the dominant one that lies on top of me.

All too soon, he separates his lips from mine, moving them down to my neck, before kissing softly at my skin. A tight gasp escapes from my lips as he continues to peck at my skin, until his fingers reach down, starting to touch a more sensitive area through my clothing. The feeling of pleasure I'm experiencing is almost too much, despite me having felt it so many times before.

Unable to take the feeling, my body squirms under his, then my free hand moves down to his crotch area, before slowly starting to rub there. Michael's breath catches in the back of his throat, as his soft kisses on my neck appear to stop once he begins to feel what I'm doing to him.

"Baby," he groans, his voice deep and husky – unlike what I'm used to hearing on a day-to-day basis.

"It's been a while, hasn't it Michael?" I question, somewhat seductively.

A soft moan comes from his lips. "Yes," he whimpers, rolling onto his back next to me, throwing his head back onto the pillow. As I rub, I feel him becoming increasingly harder, which turns me on endlessly. It's been forever since I've experienced this thrill; this romantic excitement between Michael and I. I've missed it.

"Girl, you've not lost your magic after the long time we've missed this," he hisses, almost breathless because of the overwhelming feelings he must be experiencing. It only takes a slight shift in my hand's position for him to lose it, "Yes! That's it! Right there! Sssssss ... "

A little smirk forms on my face as I quicken my speed a little, "Aww, is Doctor Michael getting too much medication to handle?" I coo playfully. This is rather amusing to me, to be honest.

He almost cries out from pleasure, "Agh! Almost ... almost." His voice is quivering a little, now, "But I can take it ... "

"You can?" I challenge, my free hand's fingers beginning to unbutton his shirt, "Well, let's see if you can take this medication, Doctor."

--

After prescribing one another with a little dosage of "medication", Michael and I sit on the bed together, chatting quietly whilst we ... recover, I suppose. It's been forever since I've felt so alive; so on top of the world. This time with Michael has been perfect for me.

"You know, you still need to record your phrase," Michael reminds me, as he runs his fingers through my blonde hair lightly.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Why don't I do it now? One less worry'll be on my mind, then," I answer, my eyes wandering over to Michael's drawer, where the video camera is. He still doesn't know about the video message I left on there before I trashed the living room and kitchen, "The video camera's in the drawer, isn't it Michael?"

He nods, standing up, "Yeah it is." After fetching the camera, he joins me back on the bed, switching it on and pointing the lens at me and hitting record straight away, "Becky!" he calls.

"Michael! I wasn't ready!" I chuckle, shielding my face from the camera with my hands.

"Naw, c'mon sweetheart! I'm ready for your phrase!" he grins.

"I can't say it unless you lie about me." I roll my eyes childishly, folding my arms and sticking my tongue out at the camera.

"Lie about you? I'd rather tell the truth. Becky, you're the most beautiful girl in the world."

An uncontrollable smile forms on my face, as my attention turns completely to the camera. My eyes look directly at the lens, whilst my hands take a hold of the camera itself, "Whatever you say, Michael." Without thinking, I lean forward and kiss the lens of the camera, causing us both to erupt into laughter for no apparent reason.

"You're crazy!" Michael says through his laughter, "But that's why I love you."

"Crazy? I guess you're right," I give in. Then, I wave to the camera, as my hyper mood seems to kick in, "Hey, whoever's watching this! I'm Becky Summers, soon-to-be-Jackson, and I love you! Whether it be Jasper, Charlie, Michael, Miracle, Jason, Ollie, mom or dad ... or whoever! Maybe it'll even be me!"

I turn the camera around, so that it faces Michael, "Hey Michael! Any words to your future self?" I request.

He smiles at the camera, "Uh ... hey, future Michael. It's ... younger Michael here. If you're watching this then ... you've got through a lotta crap, man. I salute you—I mean, me. I salute me." My crazy mood wearing off now, we both share a little laugh at Michael's little error, "Uh ... and yeah. I hope you're okay in the future. Peace."

He flashes a quick peace sign, before I join the shot, "And here's the both of us." I give the camera a mellow smile, "So ... yeah. This'll be my last video for a while now so ... adios, mi amigos ... or however you say it."

After my farewell, I stop recording, before placing the camera back in its bag, and putting it away. But then, without warning, a pain fills my stomach, resulting in me clutching harshly onto Michael's shirt, and crying out in agony.

Michael notices my sudden change in condition quickly, "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks in a panic.

"I-I'm in pain, Michael! It hurts!" I scream.

His eyes widen in worry, which leads him to lifting me into his arms – like he did that time when my scar opened up – before rushing out the house, being cautious not to cause me any more pain. He sits me in the car, placing my seatbelt on for me, then he runs to the driver's side, fastening his own seatbelt and starting the ignition. Panic fills his voice as he reassures me over and over:

"Don't worry ... I'll make sure the pain stops, sweetheart. I'll make sure of it."

What could be wrong with Becky? Could her scar have opened up again? Or maybe something worse? :o
Three chapters left, guys. :(
I hope you liked this chapter, anyway. :)