Chapter Text
Chapter 1
“Ki? Ki? Kiara? KIARA? Wake up please.”
Ki groaned when a familiar whiny voice pleaded for her to wake up. She’d purposefully chose to nap in the furthest guest room she could find, but the insistent pokes to her spine and neck proved how futile that had been.
“Kiara (poke) Kiara (poke) Kiara (poke) Kiara.....”
“Michael Jackson, if you poke me one more time I’ll make you regret it,” she bit. A light giggle sounded before a body bounced on top of hers with an even louder giggle. Kiara could only laugh herself as she sat up and faced her best friend. Kiara Wafula had known Michael since she was 19 years old and he was 27. Her mother, now happily retired, had been part of the original staff member team when Michael bought Neverland in ‘87. Her mother had worked mostly in the kitchen, but did help clean around the house.
Still in college at the time, and struggling to pay what her scholarship couldn’t, Kiara had been heavily guilty that her mother was cleaning someone else’s floors to help her with tuition. And with how secretive the woman had been about who she’d been working for, Kiara became even more suspicious. Putting her foot down, Kiara finally demanded her mother to tell her who exactly she was working for and whether that person was being fair. Imagine her shock coming home from class the next day to find her mother having tea with a famous pop star.
Michael, who Kiara learned was adorably shy, had greeted her politely and genuinely assured her he was not letting her mother work past her limits. In fact, from how well Michael got on with her, Kiara clearly saw that he valued her mother more for her company than work. Michael often getting in her mother’s way with his constant check-ins and begs to rest herself and sit down.
“He’s like a puppy tugging at your pants legs sometimes,” Kiara’s mother teased, making Michael blush. After that, Kiara took to visiting Neverland after class often. She’d tried to convince herself it was just to see how her mother was doing at work. But barely an hour would pass and she would be off with Michael doing lord knows what around the ranch. The both of them running around like hyperactive eight year olds high on sugar. Her friend Kathy, the only one in her limited friend circle who knew about her mother’s job, more than once tried to insinuate Kiara and Michaels relationship was more than just friends. And it was, just not the way Kathy once thought.
“Want to go swimming?” Michael chirped with a bounce.
“Nope,” Kiara smirked.
“Carousel?”
“Nope.”
“Trampolines?”
“Hmmmm...Nope.”
“Then what? I want to do something! I want to do something NOW!”
She rolled her eyes when he kicked his legs with a whiny huff and pouted at her angrily. Michael was definitely the little brother Kiara never had, even if he was eight years older.
“Well maybe if you hadn’t woken me up I’d want to do something too. But since you did I think I’m going to go home where I CAN sleep,” she teased, sitting back when his eyes widened in fear.
“NO! No I’m sorry Ki. I’m sorry, please don’t leave!”
“Mike?” she took his hand when she saw his eyes gloss over, tears threatening to spill. This reaction wasn't much of a surprise to Kiara. She’d been noticing him getting more clingy for the past couple of months.
She thought nothing of it at first. Many of his friends were off doing other things, so he was probably just lonely. But this wasn’t the first time he’d gotten upset whenever she tried to leave. The first time was four months ago. She’d spent the day walking around Neverland with him, talking about her self made business. He encouraged her then small business and assured her he’d help it any way he could. She thanked his generosity but, like always, politely turned it away. Dependency was its own kind of addiction, and Kiara was not letting herself fall prey to it anytime soon. It had started to get late and she’d made ready to go home. He’d just ask if she wanted to sleep over. She politely declined and he politely accepted.
The next time she came he asked her again. But he’d sounded much more vulnerable, desperate even. By that point she’d long noticed something was off. He was isolating himself more and stowing away in his studio for hours on end. One of the maids, Nina, confessing to Kiara that he was wandering the halls at night, sometimes for hours. Knowing this, she’d given into his pleads that time out of sheer worry. She wasn’t sure how to confront him then. Michael did as well with conflict as a politician does with the truth. She didn’t want him to get stubborn and clam up. But any past uncertainty she had quickly flew out the window when she saw the tears forming in the corner of his eyes.
“Hey, hey. Mike don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re okay.”
“I’m sorry Ki. I’m sorry,” he sniffed, wiping his eyes, moaning when more tears started to fall. “I’m sorry I’m being such a baby, and annoying you. If you want to go home you-”
“Michael you are not annoying me,” she said rubbing his palm gently. “And you are not a baby. What’s been going on with you lately? And don’t you dare say ‘nothing’ ‘cuz we both know that’s a lie. Michael, what’s wrong?”
She stiffened when his bottom lip started to quiver. His hands were still wiping at his eyes, but they soon fell to his sides in defeat. A low whine crawled out of his throat before switching to hard sobs. She stared at him dumbly for a few seconds before snapping out of her shock and opening her arms. He flew into them immediately. Head now buried deep into her shoulder, Michael cried like a baby for a good twenty minutes. Kiara shushed and rocked him while shaking her head tiredly. After six years, she’d witnessed many of Michael’s ups and downs and knew he had a tendency to repress his emotions, especially the bad ones.
Hell, I’m no better sometimes , she thought.
It was just rare to catch him when these emotions, inevitably, exploded. The fact he was openly sobbing in front of her now was still a shock. She’d seen him cry before, sure. But never this badly.
“Are you alright?” she asked when his sobs finally quieted. He nodded yes with a loud sniff, whimpering when she gently pulled him off. “Michael, what’s been going on lately? Did someone say something? Did…..did your father say something?”
The mention of his father sent a visible shake through his body. Kiara didn’t meet Joseph until after two years of knowing Michael. Janet telling her later that was more Michael’s doing than Josephs. The life of the whole Jackson family was basic public knowledge, but that didn’t make it all true. If you want the truth, you go to the source. And Kiara had made that clear to Michael the day she met Joseph, and Michael had been doing everything he could to dissuade her. It was no lie Joseph Jackson was an intimidating man. Stern faced, with a clear ‘I don’t like nonsense’ attitude, Kiara knew Joseph had been a very strict parent. And with Michael being such a sensitive soul, well what did one expect? Joseph had openly judged her then 21 year old self with clear suspicion before suggesting/demanding she and him take a walk around the property. Michael seemed ready to puke when she readily agreed and obeyed without question. She and Joseph had spent a good two hours walking around before coming back to a visibly nervous Michael. What did Kiara think of Joseph?
She liked him!
All throughout their talk, echoes of Kiara’s long dead (and much loved) grandfather kept surfacing in his face. He and Babu would’ve been great friends. Joseph was actually very kind, when comfortable, and was very amused with her dry wit and sense of humor. Kiara could sense what was once a large temper in the man souls, but it was very much watered down. All in all, Joseph was simply an old lion who still bit a little too hard, but was tame enough to befriend. That didn’t mean he didn’t have his flaws and vices. Kiara was not at all pleased with the discipline Michael and his siblings received at Joseph’s hands growing up. But unlike the media, she didn’t condemn him for it. Much like her babu, who’d given Kiara plenty of spankings as a toddler, Joseph was just the product of different times and different ways. That didn’t change, or excuse, the damage his actions had caused for his children, especially Michael. Though he tried to hide it, Michael was still easily hurt by his father’s judgement and harsh opinions. And when the two had an argument, an extremely rare event, Michael was quick to shut himself away.
“J-Joseph didn’t say anything. Not this time,” Michael sniffed. “It was one of Toya’s friends actually. Well, her husband's friend.”
Chikushou. (Japanese for: Son of a b*tch.)
Any mention of that man made Kiara bristle. “They said it was weird how I surrounded myself with all this ‘childish nonsense and para-para pho-...”
“Paraphernalia?”
“Yeah, that word. A-am I weird Ki?”
“No you are not,” she said sternly. She motioned him to lay down and began combing his hair with her fingers. His eyes fluttered and drooped almost immediately. “Michael you bring joy to people. And the children you bring here always leave with smiles of happiness and gratitude. You built this place, and you have every right to enjoy it. Mike? Michael?” She smirked when a soft snore answered back. Sliding the covers over them, she flopped onto her own pillow and shut her eyes. Feeling of someone snuggling against her the last she remembered.
“Ms. Kiara? Ms. Kiara? Please wake up Ms.”
“Hmmmm, Nina? What time is it?”
“Three in the morning ma’am.”
Kiara blinked at the maid stupidly before looking at the clock on the dresser. Sure enough, a 3 and two zeros stared back at her. Late night stars shining from the windows only confirming it.
“I’d normally thank you for waking me up,” Kiara grumbled sitting up. “But not this early. What’s up Nina?”
“I’m sorry for waking you at this hour Kiara but it's Mr. Jackson. He’s stowed himself away in his studio again. He’s been there since midnight.”
“Well he’s coming out now,” Kiara huffed, getting out of bed. Nina barely hid her relief as she led Kiara to the studio. Michael’s perfectionist work ethic was nothing special. Kiara often found herself working on projects late into the night until early in the morning. But where she could put on the brakes, Michael simply increased speed. If he was touring or had an album to finish up, she’d leave him alone unless he was really pushing himself. But if he had nothing else better to do?
She was fully prepared to drag him out kicking and screaming when they made it to the studio. Nina hesitated when Kiara told her to go back to bed.
“I’ll get him to bed, don’t worry,” Kiara assured her before going inside. She quickly turned on the lights to get rid of the spooky vibe in the empty room. No surprise, she spied Mike from the window that separated the recording room from the live room. He was on the floor in the corner, back turned, doing something she couldn’t see. Moving closer to the window, she spied an open box of crayola crayons next to him. Crayons? What the..?
She didn’t realize she was walking in until the door made a very noticeable CREAK. Michael turned around fast enough to give anyone whiplash. Inside now, she could clearly see what he was doing. Scattered pieces of white paper littered the floor in front of him. Each of them were covered in very rudimentary drawings of dogs, cats, cars, and what she could only guess were people. Michael drew exceptionally well, but these drawings could be placed in a kindergarten and no one would know the wiser. He stared at her wide eyed, completely frozen. She’d clearly interrupted something she shouldn’t have. Whatever ‘that’ was.
No going back now.
He scooted further into the corner when she took a step closer. Finally facing her, she noticed the green stuffed bear clutched in his right arm. It was a pretty basic button eyed plush with a shiny black nose and yellow ribbon bowtie. He clutched it tighter and whimpered when she stared at it. His eyes… Michael’s eyes always had an innocent shine to them. But at that moment, that innocence was all but glowing.
“Hey buddy. That’s a nice bear ya got there. What’s his name?”
He looked up at her fearfully and let out another whimper. Realizing her mistake, Kiara crouched down. He visibly relaxed before eyeing her un-surely. After a few moments, his mouth slowly peeled open.
“Basha, girl,” he whispered shyly.
“Oh, pardon me. Sorry Basha,” she cooed, waving at the bear. He giggled at that before slowly crawling over to her. She stayed still when he raised his free hand to her hair and started playing with it. A wide grin slowly spreading on his face as he did. Kiara wanted to completely melt at his adorableness, but she still needed answers.
“Michael, do you know who I am?”
“Princess,” he giggled, twirling a lock of her hair.
“Princess?”
“Kiara mean princess. You tell me dat once.”
Well, he knows who I am. That's good.
“Why’d you come down here baby? It’s awfully late, and you should be in bed.”
“Don’t wanna,” he grunted, sitting down with a familiar huff and pout.
“Can you tell me why?”
“Don’t have time when sun is up. Can only do at night.”
“Do what baby?”
“Be little, and play with basha,” he said, bouncing the little bear for emphasis. Be little? That sentence held serious weight. She could feel it. Kiara didn’t get a chance to ponder why though when he let out a big yawn. It took everything she had not to die in a puddle of cuteness when he plopped a thumb in his mouth and laid down cuddling his bear.
“No, no, no baby. When we’re sleepy we sleep in a bed. Come on now.”
He whined when she forced him up and to his feet. She took his hand when his legs wobbled slightly, grunting when he slumped against her with another yawn.
"Carry please."
"Not on your life pal," she huffed, standing him back up. She sighed when he stomped his foot angrily and started whining again.
Fussy, what a surprise.
"You want to sleep in your room or the guest room?"
"My room," he yawned as she dragged him hurriedly through the halls. Only a few staff members stayed in Neverland. And Kiara was pretty sure Michael didn't want them seeing him this way. She shook her head when they finally made it to his room. As always, clothes littered the floor like fallen soldiers on the war front. I'll scold him later, she thought when he flopped onto the bed.
"Not yet baby, you need PJ's." She searched through the battlefield of clothes and found his orange pants and night shirt. With much fuss, mostly on his end, she managed to get him in his pajamas and under the covers. A passing thought to take him to the bathroom crossed her mind, but she ignored it as she started to leave. She was halfway out the door when a tiny whimper made her freeze. Michael, left thumb in mouth, mewled like a kicked kitten as he reached out to her with his free hand.
"Kiawa schtay. No weave pwease. No weave."
Oh hell!
She practically dove onto the bed and held open her arms. He wiggled closer immediately and curled up into her side. Warmth filled her when he snuggled into her chest and smiled around his thumb.
"Kiawa, bwig sishter."
Whatever this is, she thought holding him even closer. It's gonna be the death of me. And I strangely don't mind that.