Michael's point of view

The car ride back to Neverland was very quiet. I was deep in my thoughts, June didn't say one word, and Caleb fell alseep again on the back seat. The poor guy was exhausted, and I couldn't imagine what Stephanie put him through. All of these lines across his face told us he went through hell for the last month, and that was probably why I asked June to offer him a roof where he could sleep peacefully, without being scared that something—or someone- would pop up out of nowhere.

I understood why June couldn't forgive him, nor forget what he did. He contributed in making her life a living hell, he betrayed her. If it was only about this, I knew she would, eventually, forgive him, but with what happened with Pit, then I wasn't sure she would be able to forgive him for that. Let's be honest, what he did was horrible, and I could never be able to forget about this, but I can forgive, and I know June is a forgiving person as well. She'd probably need more time, but I had to keep the faith. She needed him, and he needed her. Simple.

When we arrived at Neverland, I asked Tiana to show Caleb's new place. I indicated him that there had some fresh clothes in the closet of the master bedroom that he could put on. The clothes he had on were stained, like he had been wearing them for days. Seeing him this way hurt me, and I couldn't leave him this way, even after everything he did. As a young man, he made some mistakes: some huge ones; but there are never mistakes, always lessons.

When we stepped inside Neverland's main house, June declared she needed a shower. As protective over her that I was, I decided I would follow her up there because I was too scraed she would break down once again. I helped her put some plastic around her bandaged arm so that it wouldn't get wet, and stepped into the shower to help her wash her hair and body because it wasn't easy for her to do so with her injury. When we were finished, we got dressed and waited downstairs in the living room for the police to arrive.

"Why do you have such empathy for Caleb?" she asked, totally out of the blue, with her head on my lap while I was playing with her still wet hair.

I sighed, looking down at her, "This is who I am. You know I have empathy for people."

"How can you be so forgiving, Michael?" she asked, sitting up to look at me. "I can't understand."

"I'm not asking you to understand me. I just see things differently than you do."

"Clearly. You weren't there, you didn't witness the way he walked away; like he didn't give a single shit about me, about Pit. He looked at us, his eyes never left us, but still, he walked away. How horrible is this?"

"It is horrible, but you need to understand that he isn't the one who shot Pit. Stephanie did. The only responsible for what happened to Pit is Stephanie. She's the one who pulled the trigger, right?"

"Yes. But is she the one who told the press about that night I brought Crystal to the hospital? No. Caleb did this on his own."

"You act like you want to take him responsible for everything. He's not the bad guy of the story. Paulina is, she is the one who pulled the strings from the beginning, not him."

"So you're saying Stephanie isn't to blame as well then? Since she's not the one pulling the strings," she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Urgh, no! I'm not saying that," I loudly said but realized it and spoke in a softer tone after. I didn't want to argue. "Baby, you need to see the difference between what Caleb did and what Stephanie did. He was scared she'd shoot him and you both if he helped you," I figured, speaking calmy. "Caleb did this because Paulina brainwashed Stephanie, and Stephanie brainwashed him. I'm not saying he is innocent, he is definitely not, but this guy went through a lot. He lived with a sociopath for months, but still, he managed to stay clear in his head, and not become as crazy as Stephanie did. Sure he made mistakes, but we don't know what hell Stephanie put him through. We can't leave someone in need like him."

"What if he's manipulating us? What if what he told us is nothing but a lie, and that he is the bad guy?"

"It can't. We have pictures on which we see Paulina and Milo giving money to Stephanie, and he isn't the one who shot Pit. Didn't you hear the sincerity in his voice?"

"I don't know who to trust anymore. I've been betrayed for years. Caleb and Stephanie are just two more names to add to the damn list," she angrily yet sadly said, looking down at her hands.

"You can trust me," I assured her, taking her hands in mine. "I can seem naive to you for doing this for Caleb, but I know what I'm doing. That's why you need to trust me."

"I trust you. It's the others I don't trust," she said, placing her head on my shoulder and covering her upper body with a little blanket. "You're the only one I trust in this world."

"Well, I'm glad," I faintly smiled, and laid a kiss on her forehead. "As soon as the police leaves, I want you to go to sleep. You must be exhausted."

"Will you come with me? I don't think I'll be able to put myself to sleep if I'm alone."

"Su— Oh hell," I said, putting a hand over my mouth as I realized something. "Liz, she's coming tonight!"

"You should call her then. Tell her today is not the right time."

"Yes, but she's going to ask what's going on, and I don't want her to know. At least not now, not until things are fixed."

"Then tell her you're busy with the album. She'll get that, you know how understanding she is."

"Right," I nodded, and stood up from the couch. "Thanks," I gently said, kissed June's cheek, and went on the other end of the living room to give my best friend a call.

June's point of view

As Michael was on the phone with Liz, I focused on his every move and his angelic face so that I could turn my mind away from the past events, but also to try not to fall asleep. I didn't want to sleep because I knew as soon as I'd close my eyes that flashbacks from the afternoon would come flooding my mind again.

When I heard the front door open, I frowned in confusion, ignoring who was coming in the house uninvited. Soon enough, I was paralyzed in fear at the simple thought it was Paulina or Stephanie who was in our house to try to kill me. I glanced over at Michael, and he had the same look on his face.

"June! Michael!" I recognized Becks' vocie call, but I couldn't answer and couldn't feel relieved. "Where the hell is she?" she asked in a panick to whoever was with her. "June!"

"I—I'm here!" I called back, incapable of walking because my legs felt like jelly. "In the living room!"

Barely a couple of seconds later, Becks, followed by who I supposed was Trent, her husband (I never saw him in person until this moment), came jogging to the couch I was sill on.

"Oh my God, June! What the hell are you still doing here? I was worried sick about you! Don't you know how to answer your damn phone?" my manager exclaimed, quite angry with me.

"Look Liz, I gotta go, I'll call you back," I overheard Michael say in the receiver. He put the phone back on its hook and came to the spot where the three of us were. "Hey, you must be Trent," Michael gently said, giving an handshake to my manager's husband. "What's going on?"

"What is going on is that your soon-to-be wife forgot about her damn interview with Elle Magazine!" she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. "To top it all, she got me scared to death because I thought she was dead because she wouldn't answer her damn phone and she was nowhere to be found: not at her placec, not at the meeting spot we agreed on, no-fucking-where! I had to call Trent at work so that he could come and help me look for her!"

"Honey, you need to calm down," Trent gently said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"You need to have a good enough reason for me to find you here all wrapped up in a blan—the hell?" Becks changed her tone when I uncovered myself and let her see my injured arm. "What happened to you?"

"Is someone trying to kill me a good enough reason for missing this interview?"

***

Michael, Becks, Trent and I were still in the living room when I finished telling my story and how I got injured. Becks was tearing up, and she had a tight grip on my hand while her other hand was coverring her mouth. Michael was sitting beside me on the couch, and he was gently rubbing my back for comfort, while I was telling Becks everything. When I forgot about a detail, Michael would chime in and tell her for me. I still didn't have my mind wrapped around everything that had happened. I didn't have much time to rest that, right after I finished my story, Harrison and the cops arrived in Neverland.

With the little strength I had left, I stood up from the couch, and quickly after, Becks hugged the life out of me, careful not to hurt my still aching arm.

"I'm so sorry I yelled at you. I should have known you wouldn't miss an interview as important as this one for no reason," she said, rubbing circles on my back.

"It's okay," I assured her, putting her at a arm-length. "You couldn't know, and I totally forgot about this interview."

"Makes sense," she said, looking down. "Would you forgive the worst manager in the world?"

"Of course. It's good to have you here," I admitted, as we heard voices coming closer to us. "Now, time to tell this whole story again", I declared, looking at the two officers and Harrison that came in the living room with Michael leading the way.

"Ms. Wellington," the officer who seemed to be in charge told me in a professional tone as I was shaking his hand. "I'm officer Payne and this is my colleague, Pat. We are all here to take your deposition, and we need you to tell us what happened. Eveything."

"S—Sure," I nodded, and invited the two officers and Harrison to sit down around the table. I motionned Michael, Becks and Trent to come along with me, and they all did for my biggest pleasure. Michael sat down next to me, and rested his hand on my knee for support. I covered his with mine, and sighed, "I don't even know where to start," I admitted.

"First of all, we need to know the whole story," the officer with a pen and a notepad in his hand told me, nodding.

"I—" I started, but was cut off by someone speaking from behind us.

"I'll tell them," Caleb said, looking at each and everyone of us, before looking deep into my eyes. "I told you everything, and I want to show you I'm not lying."

"Who are you, Sir?"

"My name is Caleb Collins, officer. I'm the one who will be more able to tell you what happened to Ms. Wellington."

"And why?"

"Because I am guilty. I give up," he said in a weak voice, looking down. When he looked up again, his eyes were full of tears, and I couldn't ignore the aching feeling in my heart. I was aching to see him like this even if I hated him.

"What would be your crime, sir?" the other officer asked, raising his eyebrows. "How are you involved in this case?"

"My crime is to be a little immature cry-baby. I helped people ruin June's life by ignoring the fact that Paulina Porizkova dealt cocaine to one of my friend and made her become a crazy woman who shot Mr. Ryerson. My crime would be that I fell in love with this woman and got mad when I realized the feeling wasn't mutual. How pathetic is that?"

"Is this some kind of joke?" the officer asked, and I facepalmed myself a bit at Caleb's statement.

"I'm not very good with words, but I can tell you everything, just bear with me," Caleb asked, and he started telling the same speech he told me back at the hospital.

While he was talking, I watched his body language and demeanor very closely. He was sincere. Sincerity was written all across his face, and you could easily hear it in his voice. He was angry with himself, angry with the fact he let people ruin me, and contributed at this because he was just frustrated. His fists were tightly shut as he tried not to break down crying. The tears that were pooling his eyes never fell on his cheeks, and I wanted so badly to tell him it was okay to cry, but I couldn't allow myself to. Eveytime I laid eyes on him, I had this flashback in my head of him walking away while I begged for help.

When he arrived at the moment where he had to explain what happened back to his place, his whole body tensed up, and he glared at me, finally allowing his tears to roll freely down his cheeks.

"June came over at my place to talk to me, and to give me my job back. You have no idea how much I want that. I want my life back, I want my life to be the same it was a few months ago, when everything was easy and just great," he declared, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of one of Michael's shirts that he was wearing. "I told June to leave because I knew Stephanie would come back, and as she showed me the gun she bought the day prior, then I knew she'd go after June. She told me she needed to make her pay for the sadness she caused me, but also because she was jealous that I loved June, and not her. I didn't know she'd actually do it, but she tried, and that was my cue to run away. I was scared to death, I was scared she'd shoot me too if I didn't run away with her, so I did but came back quickly. I can give you the address, I can tell you where she is. You need to take her to jail, she's crazy," Caleb panicked, his whole body shaking. "I'm no kidding, officer. She really is crazy. She talks to people that only her can see. Y—You really need to tak—"

"We're taking care of this," he assured him, writing down on his notedpad. "Now I have a question. Why didn't you leave sooner?"

"Because I had nowhere to go, and I had no friends, no one to talk to and— because she forbade me to leave the house. She threatened to kill herself if I left her, so I never did."

"So let me sum up everything, there are a lot of information here," Payne said, rubbing the space inbetween his eyes. "Basically, you're telling me that Ms. Porizkova is like the one in charge to ruin Ms. Wellington's life?"

"Yes. She basically brainwashed Stephanie and made her her little soldier to put June in trouble."

"And she hired Mr. Milo as well," the officer nodded.

"Yes, and thanks to his job, it was easy for him to do whatever he wanted with her."

"He took my driver's license, and followed me everywhere I went to try to ruin my career. Any ways was good to make me look like someone I wasn't."

"And to top it all, he is a corrupted freak," Becks chimed in. "He wanted to take the both of us to the police station because apparently we had an insulting behavior towards a police officer. To avoid this, I proposed him money, and of course, he accepted."

"Okay, I see. He's an accomplice," he nodded again, writing this down.

"I have pictures here, and you can clearly see Milo, Paulina and Stephanie together. At first, I thought this was money she gave him in there, but then I watched the other photographs I took, and it isn't money. It's cocaine," Harrison declared, giving the photographs to the two police officers.

I titled my head a little so that I could see the picture myself. On it, we could see Paulina with Milo by her side, in front of her place. Paulina was giving a tiny plastic bag to Stephanie. She was busted.

The two officers looked at each other for a second, and one of them excused himself to get away from us a little to talk into his walkie-talkie. A weight on my shoulders seemed to vanish as soon as I heard the policeman asking for a patrol to go to Paulina's home. In this case, as Paulina was involved in a criminal investigation, the police didn't need any search warrant, so they would be able to come into Paulina's home to look for any trace of cocaine or other illegal drugs.

Paulina, Stephanie and Milo were going to jail, there was no other ending possible to this story, contrary to DiLeo who was about to leave jail. The mere thought of him coming after me again was unbearable. I think I had been through enough for the rest of my life with people trying to ruin me, and I just wanted everything to stop.

"Now you told me about Mr. DiLeo," the officer said, rubbing his forehead. "He is in jail, but still you think he's trying to get to you."

"I know it, sir," I assured, nodding. "A few days ago, I went to see him in jail because I—uh I—I needed an answer to a question I had for him," I explained, feeling a lump in my throat just thinking about the fact that Prince is another name to add to the list of people who betrayed me.

"What kind of question?"

"A friend of mine told me he wasn't good for me because he teamed up with Frank, and I needed to verify what he said to me, because I couldn't believe it," I started, my voice unsure and shaking. "When I was there, Frank admitted it, shameless. But on top of that, he told me this friend of mine wasn't the only one he hired to try to make Michael I break up. In his head, it is my fault if Michael fired him, and that's why he wants to hurt me. He wants to make me pay for everything."

"And Stephanie knew your history with Mr. DiLeo?"

"Who doesn't?" I snorted sarcastically, wiping the tears from my eyes. "This man will be out of jail soon, and he told Stephanie he'd help her to hurt me again."

"But we don't have any proof about that, ma'am," the officer said, and I felt empathy in his voice. "I can't do much about th—"

"I can," Trent chimed in, cutting the policeman off, and I turned my head quickly in his direction. "My name is Trent Martins, I am a lawyer from Martins & Jefferson law office," he told the man in uniform.

"What can you do?" I asked, hopeful, tightening my grip on Michael's hand.

"When you told us what happened earlier, I thought about it. I can ask for a hearing, where you're asking for DiLeo to stay in jail because he still wants to cause you harm."

"But it's the same problem, we still lack proof," the officer said, taking the words out of my mouth.

"Not necessiraly," Trent shrugged. "You said he threatened you the first time you went to see him, and that he told Stephanie they'd take care of you as soon as he's out, right?"

I nodded slowly, trying to see his point.

"There are cameras in the visit rooms in jail, and regarding the situation, you have the right to ask for them for the course of the investigation," he told the police officer, and then looked at me. "If you have the footage where this man threatens you and where he talks to Stephanie about you, then he'll stay in jail for at least three more years."

"He's right," the police officer nodded. "We can do that, then. Ask for this hearing, and I take care of the rest."

"The rest?" I wondered, as I watched the police officer stand up to leave.

"They found her," the other police officer declared, as he came back in the living room. "Stephanie Grimm. They're taking her to the station."

Automatically, I looked towards Caleb, and his head turned lazily towards the second police officer. His eyes were still wet and teary, but it's like he didn't care, like he had no strength anymore to be happy about it or not. He was just standing there, existing.

"Thank God," Michael sighed in relief next to me, and I wished I could have done the same, but to me, things couldn't be over this soon. There had to be something else.

"This kind of rest. I take care of Porizkova, Grimm and Milo, and you Mr. Martins take care of Dileo. Here's my card," he offered to Trent. "Call me whenever you have what you need to let this man rot in jail where he belongs."

I was a little taken aback by the words he had because I wasn't used to such empathy from police officers, and I was glad they weren't all like Milo.

"I'll keep you updated, I have your contact details. If you need anything, just call me," he gently said to me, giving me his card as well, and I nodded.

I couldn't feel happy about it, because I had a feeling things were going too fast.

Things couldn't be that easy.

The next day
Michael's point of view

The bed felt awfully cold when I woke up the next morning, for I was all alone in it. I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand and noticed it was only six thirty. When I turned around, June was gone and only a note on her pillow remained.

'Gone to the hospital, don't know when I'll be back.'

Short, but clear I guess?

I couldn't blame her. She didn't have the heart to be joyful considering the situation, and with the night she spent, it was just totally understandable. She at least left a note, and knowing where she was was what mattered most to me.

Through the night, June would wake up because of the nightmares she had. We barely slept five hours that night. She would wake up screaming with sweat tickling from her forehead, barely able to breathe properly. I was scared she'd have another panick attack, but she didn't. I took her in my arms, rocking her like a baby and telling her it was just a nightmare, that Pit was still alive. She didn't argue with me, but I could see in her eyes that she was worried, and deep down, she somehow felt Pit wasn't going to wake up.

Just thinking she'd lose another important person in her life brought tears to my eyes. It's like death was the only thing she'd ever known in her life. After her brother's death, she had to go through her dad's death, and then, Beverly's and Ryan's, whom she cared deeply for.

She needed to keep the faith, even if it's hard to at times. Sometimes, you just want to give up on life, give up on everything that's surrounding you because you think you can't go through those hardships life is giving you. That's what was happening to June. She was down and tired of everything, and if Pit didn't make it, then I was afraid it would be hard to bring her back on her feet. I needed to make sure she wouldn't give up on life, because this gift is too beautiful to be wasted.

To do so, I needed help from people who could give her strength; her family. Having her mother around could be nothing but beneficial for her well being.

I pondered a little in my bed, just watching the ceiling when something popped in my head.

Back in 1988, I introduced June to Amber Jones, Janet's former therapist. From what June told me, she kept in touch with her for years, and went to see her at least six times a year, so that the doctor could keep an eye on her. Thing is, ever since June and I found our way back to each other, she never mentionned her again, and I thought it was probably the best time for her to talk to Jones.

I sat down on the edge of my bed, and started making my calls, beginning with my mother-in-law. I didn't want to alarm her in any way, but she needed to know what was going on in her daughter's life, that is to say, the fact that she almost got herself killed by some psycopath. I knew June wouldn't be happy about all of this, but I needed to tell her mother. She had the right to know what happened to her before the press says it all and before it creates problem like the last time she hid something from her mother.

I looked through my address book, and found the number of Michelle's office.The ringtone got me nervous because I had no idea how to annouce this kind of thing to Michelle. This kind of phonecalls has mothers terrified at the mere thought of receiving one like this.

"Mrs. Grey, what can I do for you?" she professionally asked through the receiver.

"Hey Michelle, it's Michael," I declared, trying to sound as joyful as I could.

"Oh, isn't that my soon-to-be son-in-law," she said, and I could picture the smile on her lips. "How are you doing, Michael?"

"That'd be me," I slightly smiled, "how are you doing?" I asked in return, avoiding the question.

"I'm great! Let me put the phone on speaker, Damon wants to hear you as well."

Oh, God, she thinks I'm bringing good news.

"Hey Damon," I said, then gulped hard.

"Hey Michael, what you're calling for?"

"I um, I needed to talk to you both," I declared, feeling my hands getting sweaty. "Would you come over here this week end?"

"Uh, June and I are leaving for Paris the day after tomorrow to see Karl, did you forget?"

Oh crap.

"Oh, no! Uh, I just want you here."

"Why? What's this week end? Family gathering that we didn't know about?" Michelle asked, confused.

"Um, yeah, sort of."

"Sort of? Michael, what's going on?" my mother-in-law pressed. She started to become nervous as well.

"I think June might need her family around her this week end. She's going through a hard time these days, and she needs you."

"Wh—A hard time? What do you mean? Is it her job, is this witch trying to hurt my baby again? Oh God, is it her health?"

"Is it about this man who's stalking her?" Damon added, in the same worried tone.

"Well, my aim isn't to worry you or anything, but it's about a bit of everything."

"Damnit, Michael! Can you elaborate?" Michelle exlaimed, which startled me a bit.

"Stephanie, June's former model, she shot Pit," I delcared, and before I could continue, Michelle spoke again.

"Oh my God, i—is he okay? I—is he alive?"

"He's alive, but we're waiting for him to wake up. June is already at the hopistal right now, she's with him."

"What happened? Why did this girl do that?"

"Pit wasn't her target, Michelle," I heard Damon say, and I was relieved I wasn't the one who'd have to explain this to Juen's mother. "June was."

"What?" she asked before a the line went silent. "No, it can't be. Michael?"

"I wish I could say it's not the truth, but I can't."

"You're telling me my daughter is out there, all by herself while someone tried to kill her? What in—"

"Michelle, I need you to stay calm, because if you don't stay calm, then I won't be able to explain to you what happened for the last few days."

"How can I stay calm while my daughter is in danger? Someone tried to shoot her! How can you be so calm ab—"

"I am calm because I know that Stephanie is inbetween the police's hands at the time, and that she's going to be judged in the following days for her crime, along with Paulina and that creepy officer who's been following her for a couple of weeks now."

"I—I am so confused. What does Paulina have to do with this?"

"I need you to listen to me, Michelle, and I need to know you'll get on a plane tonight and come here."

"Of course I will. Now please, tell me. I need to understand," she practically begged me, and I started telling her the entire story that I had been hearing for the last fifteen hours.

***

At the end of the phonecall with Michelle and Damon, it's like I was drained. It was emotionally hard to explain to a mother that her daughter went through hell for the last couple of weeks without even her knowing it. There were tears, a lot of tears. Michelle felt guilty for letting this happen to June, but there was nothing to feel guilty about; we couldn't know this kind of crazy things would happen. No one could.

Considering the circumstances, they booked a flight for the very evening.

As the therapist's office was located in New York, I asked Michelle and Damon to take care of this and to go to Jones' office to see when would she be available to come to California to see June. I couldn't take the risk to put June on a plane to New York. She needed to stay here next to me.

I looked at the clock, and noticed it was already nine in the morning. I had an appointment with Vanity Fair at two in the afternoon, but before going there, I wanted to pop in to see June at the hospital and make sure she was feeling what's closer to okay.

It looked probably careless to go and do this interview, but June assured me I needed to go. She claimed we needed to keep on acting like everything was normal to avoid drawing the attention of the press, because we didn't need this on top of everything. Not now. Well, not ever, actually, but this wasn't possible. One day or another, the press would know, as it always does.

When I got of the shower and finished brushing my teeth, I looked through my closet and put some tight black jeans with a white undershit and a simple white shirt on top of it and tucked it in my pants. I adjusted my hair a bit and made sure my make up was on point before getting out of the bedroom and heading downstairs.

I looked down at my watch and realized it was eleven thirty, so I made my way to the kitchen to have a little something to eat. I wasn't hungry, but I knew I needed to eat something. I didn't want to take the risk to faint because I didn't eat, so I fixed myself a peanut butter sandwich, and that was all.

As I was about to take a seat at the kitchen island, Caleb crossed my mind, and I remembered he was in the guest house, and that he probably didn't have anything to eat as I didn't tell my staff to bring him something. I mentally facepalmed myself, and made two other peanut butter sandwiches before heading out to go the guest house.

When I arrived in front of the door, I knocked a few times on it, but nobody answered.

"Caleb? It's Michael," I called, behind the door. "I'm bringing you something to eat."

Not a second after, Caleb opened the door, and the sight of him startled me a little. His eyes were very puffy, and his complexion was paler than usual, like he was very ill.

"Are you alright?" I asked, frowning.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said, before blinking a few times. "It's nice from you to bring me food, but I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat," I argued, walking past him into the house. "You don't look so good."

"I'm just tired. I had a rough night," he declared, sitting on the couch, and I sat across from him on the opposite couch. "You don't have to treat me right, Michael. I don't deserve your kindness. I'll be gone tonight."

"To go where? Don't be stupid."

"That's what I am, though. Stupid."

"People make mistakes, but that's what forgiveness is here for. I'm not saying forgiving is easy, it's not, but sooner or later, people do forgive. Welcoming you here was one step I took to towards forgiveness."

"You shouldn't forgive me. I—I'm such a horrible person, you're too kind to forgive someone like me," he declared, before breaking down crying just in front of me.

"I don't approuve of what you did, of course not, but you need to tell me why you did this, so I can understand. Did Stephanie say something to you so that you followed her this way? Did she threaten you?"

"I—I wanted to help June, I swear this was the only thing I wanted, and I—I told her to leave, b—but she didn't listen! Why didn't she listen to me and left?" he shouted, looking at me with tears rolling down his cheeks. "I would have died for her, I—I would have taken this bullet for her, but if I had, Stephanie would have killed her, because she would have seen I was ready to die for June, and she would have been jealous and kill all three of us!"

When I saw the distress on Caleb's face, my heart ached a little. The poor boy was devastated, he was barely able to breathe because his emotions were too strong. With his elbows rested on his knees, he cried in his hands, and the cries of helplessness he made showed me this wasn't acting. All of this was real; he hated himself, and he just wanted the pain to go away.

"Caleb, listen to me," I asked, smallowing the lump I had in my throat. "Caleb," I called again, putting my hand on his knee. "Look at me."

Sniffles were heard, and soon, his wet face turned towards me, "He's gonna make it, right? P—Pit, he's gonna live. Tell me he's gonna live, please, Michael, please," he begged, tears flowing down his face.

"I—I can't tell you this. I can't promise you such thing. Pit is a fighter, so he's going to fight for his life."

A silent felt upon the both of us, the only thing that could be heard was my workers mowing the lawn outside and Caleb's sniffles.

"Will you tell me what Stephanie did to you?" I asked in a soft voice once he calmed down a bit.

"You don't wanna know, and I don't want to remember," he said in a weak voice, and his eyes met mine. "You really don't wanna know."

"I do. You need to talk about this to someone, and I can be this someone. I want to be this someone, Caleb. I'm here to help you."

"You wanna know why I took this much time to open the door?"

"You were busy?" I wondered, shrugging.

"No. I was too scared it would be Stephanie. Too scared that she got away from the police, killed all of you and then that she came here to kill me. But then, I heard your voice, and I came back to reality."

"It's okay, you're safe here."

"I'm not. I had nightmares all night who came haunting me. I'm not safe in my own head, because I saw when Stephanie became crazy, and I'm pretty sure eveybody can become like her, and I'm scared, I'm scared I'll become just like her."

"You're not going to be like her, we're going to help you, okay? That's why you need to let me know what she did to you, so that I can understand better."

"You don't wanna know," he shook his head once again, and another silence fell upon us. He breathed in, and his teary eyes made contact with mine again. "You don't wanna know how she forbade me to go outside because she was scared I would run away or go to the police. When she had business to take care of with Paulina or Milo, she'd leave and locked me in my own appartmenent," he declared, out of the blue. "She had the locks changed, and she sealed the windows so that I wouldn't leave. Yesterday, when June came over, Stephanie left and she forgot to lock the door. I know she would come back to lock it, that's why I told June to leave. I wanted to protect her," he declared, sincerity covering his voice. "You don't wanna know that, when I left the appartment with her from time to times, if a girl looked at me or if I looked at a girl, when we would come home, she'd hit me with a frypan, a vase, or whatever she had close to hand. I have scars," he said, showing me the bumb and the scar he had on his scalp. "You fucking don't wanna know that, when she didn't feel like hitting me, she'd call Milo to do it for her, and he would beat the hell outta me. He would—he would kick me in the ribs, or punch me in the face. They needed me to follow them. They feared I would tell the police what was going on, like I did yesterday. Sometimes, Stephanie would drug me so that I stayed calm and didn't try anything funny. And what you surely don't wanna know is that she also—Oh my God... She'd force me to take viagra. I wasn't willing to sleep with her, she was disgusting me, but she forced me. She r—she r—raped me," he finally voiced, shaking his head from side to side, looking down at his shaky hands.

At that point, both of my hands were covering my mouth in utter shock, and tears threatened to fall from my eyes. I couldn't understand how someone could be that twisted and put people through such hell just by jealousy.

"The only thing that kept me sane was picturing June's smile, and knowing that she'll come to get me, and that everything would come back to normal."

"I—I'm so sorry," I said, not knowing what to say. "You shouldn't have had to go through this."

"You need to promise me one thing," he said, out of the blue. "This is the only thing I'm asking you."

"What it is?"

"Promise me you'll treat her like a queen. June. Promise me she'll never lack love or anything else. Promise me to give her the life she deserves and protect her with your own life if you have to."

"Of course," I said, right away, wiping my tears away. "I promise you that."

"She needs to have a happy life, and she chose to spend it with you, so make sure to treat her the way she deserves to be treated."

"I will," I nodded. "But I need to take care of you now. You need to see a doctor, Caleb. You said Milo and Stephanie beat you, you need a check-up."

"I'll be fine, you did enough for me," he shook his head, standing up from the chair, wincing in pain. "I told you I'll be gone tonight."

"You're not going anywhere. You're staying here, and I'll take care of you. I'll have a doctor come over here, wether you want it or not."

"I don't deserve it."

"You do. You went through hell, and now you need to see what's real life again with people who treat you the way human beings need to be treated," I said, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You have me now, okay?"

June's point of view

I was by Pit's bed, holding his hand tightly when Becks enterred the room with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. I was all alone with him before Becks arrived, as Callie went home to sleep for a few hours and take a shower. She was exhausted, as apparently Pit had trouble breathing during the night. I was taken aback and shaken up when I arrived early in the morning and saw my friend with a huge tube in his throat. A nurse explained to me that it was better for Pit to breathe thanks to this machine for now, but she also told me it would be a bad sign if he didn't wake up in the following weeks. That would mean he's not able to breathe without this machine, and that he won't ever wake up.

I spent my entire morning talking to him, and telling him stories about me, but also remembering the good moments him and I shared through the years. The rest of the time, I begged for him to wake up, and told him I needed him in my life because he was one of the most fabulous friend once can have in their life.

"Still nothing?" she asked, hopeful.

I shook my head, and looked at my manager. "You bought him flowers?" I asked, nodding towards the purple peonies Becks had in her hands.

"No, a nurse gave it to me. Apparently someone left this for you this morning," she annouced, handing me the flowers.

"For me? But I'm not a patient anymore," I frowned in confusion. "How can people even know I was in the hospital? I didn't tell anybody."

"There's a card, read it," Beck advised, shrugging, before taking a seat beide me.

I put the bouquet on my lap and took the card in my hands. When I recognize the handwriting, my heart almost stopped beating for a couple of seconds.

"That's Prince," I whispered, a mix of anger, despair and sadness in me.

"What does he say?"

"Bill told Fred what happened 2 Pit and U. All my prayers are 4 U and Pit. I'm so sorry. — Prince," I read out loud, looking down at the card. "Fred is one of his bodyguard. He's a friend of Bill's."

"Are you okay?" she asked, putting her hand on my left shoulder.

I put the flowers away along with the card, and turned fully to my manager, "Did you call Karl to let him know we can't make it to Paris the day after tomorrow?" I switched topic.

"Uh, yeah, I did," she said, shaking her head a little. "And I called Elle magazine, they said you should call them when you're ready to do it again."

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll call my mother as soon as I come back to Neverland. She needs to know."

"She does," Becks agreed. "Trent is working late tonight, I'll come home to Neverland with you as soon as Callie comes back."

"Becks, you don't have to—"

"I don't wanna hear it," she cut me off. "You need to be surrounded by the people you love. We're going to help you go through this."

"Is Trent working late on DiLeo's case?"

"Yeah, he's working his ass off to make sure this freak stays in jail."

"I hope he will," I almost whisered, my eyes landing on Pit's unconsious body. "He started everything."