Scenario:Hello My name is Derek Hough it's the year of 1996 my wife Michael Jackson is pregnant with our first baby she finds out during her history tour a few after she has to go on bed rest because she felt a sharp pain in her stomach
Create my version of this story
Hello My name is Derek Hough it's the year of 1996 my wife Michael Jackson is pregnant with our first baby she finds out during her history tour a few after she has to go on bed rest because she felt a sharp pain in her stomach
Derek Hough
anxious, and emotional. He learns that his wife, Michael, is pregnant but struggles with the news as it coincides with his planned departure for a dance tour. Filled with joy and responsibility, he plans to stay with her during her pregnancy. When Michael experiences a medical emergency during a performance, Derek is by her side, worried for their unborn child's wellbeing.
David Gest
observant, and concerned. David remains by Michael's side during her critical moments on the tour, ensuring her wellbeing amidst her pregnancy. He notifies Derek of Michael's condition and coordinates medical assistance during the concert. His actions demonstrate his dedication to both Michael and Derek during this sensitive time.
Dr. Chastain
attentive, and reassuring. Dr. Chastain tends to Michael's severe abdominal pain, recognizing the gravity of the situation. His swift action ensures that Michael receives the necessary care both on stage and postconcert. His expertise alleviates some of the immediate tension surrounding Michael's condition.
"Derek, I'm pregnant," my wife Michael told me over the phone.
I was on tour teaching a bunch of dance things.
I had to leave three days prior.
I couldn't believe it.
I was so happy!
I knew we were trying, but I didn't expect it to happen this soon.
Although, we had been trying for a few months.
When I found out, I wanted to be with her.
I knew I had to leave for a few more days, and then I'd be home for a week before I had to go to China for the rest of the summer.
I was only going to stay a week behind because I didn't want her to know how much I was going to miss her when I left.
I knew she was going to be pregnant soon!
We had been trying for a while now!
I couldn't believe it!
Michael and I were having a baby!
Oh my gosh, I was so excited!
I knew right then and there that I wasn't going to leave for a whole summer!
There was no way that I was going to do that!
Not with my beautiful wife pregnant!
I needed to be there for her!
After we talked for a little while, the next day she told me she had a show.
She was going to call me after, so I waited by my phone.
Although, instead of her calling me, it was one of her teammates calling me.
He told me she was in the hospital!
Oh my god!
What could've happened?
I started pacing back and forth in my hotel room.
I was shoving clothes into my duffel bag.
I was trying to book a flight on my chunky laptop.
It was the earliest flight that I could get.
I had to leave in three hours.
I called the studio manager to cancel my classes for the rest of the summer.
He asked me why, and I told him that Michael was in the hospital.
He asked me if I was going to come back when she got out, but I told him no, because she was pregnant, and I needed to be there for her.
He said he understood, but he didn't sound like he did.
I called a taxi to take me to the airport.
I was sitting in the backseat holding my phone.
I was waiting for David to call me and let me know how Michael was doing.
The taxi ride seemed like it took forever!
When we finally got there, I paid the driver and ran inside of the airport.
I ran up to the check-in counter and waited in line.
When it was finally my turn, I handed them my ticket and ID... or at least, I tried to. It took me a few minutes to find it because I was shaking so much from worrying about Michael.
Once I found it, I gave it to them.
They printed out my boarding pass and gave it back to me with my ID.
Then they told me where my gate was at, and I thanked them before running off towards the security check-in line.
After security, I went straight to the gate where they told me it was at.
It was packed with people sitting in seats or standing around waiting for their flight too.
It seemed like every time that I looked at the clock, it wasn't even five minutes later than before!
Finally, the boarding call echoed through the terminal, and I knew there was no turning back.
I stood up and grabbed my carry-on bag.
I started walking towards the line of people waiting to board the plane.
I kept looking down at my pager every few seconds to see if David had called me back yet.
When I got to the front of the line, I showed them my boarding pass and then walked down the jet bridge.
When I got to the door of the plane, a flight attendant greeted me with a smile.
I barely noticed her because I was too busy looking at my pager again.
I walked down the aisle and found my seat by the window.
I put my bag in the overhead bin and then sat down in my seat.
The guy that was sitting in the aisle seat was talking on his phone.
He was a businessman, dressed in a suit and tie.
He didn't even look up at me when I sat down.
After a few minutes, he hung up his phone and looked over at me. "Hi," he said with a smile.
"Hi," I replied back.
I was so tired from running around trying to get to the airport on time that I could've fallen asleep right there!
The middle seat was empty, so I was hoping that it would stay that way for the whole flight.
After a few more minutes, they closed the cabin door, and we started taxiing out onto the runway.
Then we took off, and I gripped onto the armrests as we went up into the air.
It wasn't because of how high we were going; it was because of how worried I was about Michael being alone in a hospital bed somewhere!
After we leveled out, they turned on the cabin lights, and everyone started getting their things out of their bags or getting up to use the bathroom. When we were about halfway there, they turned off all of the lights except for one or two above us.
I pulled out one last note that Michael had written me before she left for her tour.
It said:
Dear Derek,
I love you so much!
You are going to be an amazing father!
I can't wait until you get here!
Love,Michael
P.S. I love you!
I was reading it over and over when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was David.
"Derek, she's stable now, but there's something you need to know," he said, his voice tense.
I looked over at my sleeping seatmate and then leaned away from him, pressing my phone to my ear.
The connection crackled with static.
"What is it?"
I asked.
"Well, it wasn't just the baby that was causing her pain. They found out that there were complications with the placenta, so they've ordered complete bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy."
"Complete bed rest?"
I repeated, my voice rising.
"Yes. They're going to be monitoring her every hour until you get here. She's stable now, but... Derek, I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you. She was bleeding badly when she got to the hospital. We don't know if the baby will make it or not."
My throat tightened.
"She's... she's going to be okay, right? And the baby?"
"The baby is still alive. The doctors are going to do some blood workups to see how much bleeding there was. They should have those back tomorrow or the next day."
I pressed my lips together into a thin line.
"Okay."
The flight attendant approached me, gesturing at my phone.
"I'm sorry, sir. You need to turn that off."
I nodded.
"David, I'll call you when I get there." "Okay, Derek. I'll see you soon," he said softly before hanging up.
I turned off my phone and put it back in my pocket.
The rest of the flight was silent as I sat there staring out the window at the blackness of the night sky.
I gripped Michael's note in my hand tightly as I waited for the minutes to pass by on my watch.
I flinched when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
I turned to see the businessman looking at me with a concerned expression on his weathered face.
He had been sitting there working on his laptop the whole flight, but now it was closed and stowed away in his briefcase.
He had even taken off his reading glasses and folded them up in his shirt pocket.
"I'm sorry if I startled you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, eyeing the crumpled note in my hand.
My hands were still shaking from talking to David.
The cabin lights dimmed as they prepared for the overnight portion of the flight, and most people settled into their seats to sleep.
I didn't know how anyone could sleep at a time like this!
The businessman leaned over towards me, lowering his voice so that only I could hear him.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked, his eyes soft with concern.
I took a deep breath and looked out the window at the blackness outside.
I don't know why I told him; maybe it was because I was so shaken up from talking to David, or maybe it was because he seemed like he genuinely cared. "My wife is pregnant. She's on tour right now, but she got sick and went to the hospital. The doctors found out that there were complications with her placenta, so they're putting her on bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy."
The businessman nodded along as I spoke, his face grave with understanding.
"What kind of complications?"
"She's bleeding. They don't know how much yet."
I paused and swallowed hard before continuing.
"They don't know if the baby will make it."
"Oh my... I'm so sorry," he said softly, reaching out to pat my arm in comfort.
"I'm waiting for some blood workup results that will tell us more. They should be back tomorrow or the next day."
The businessman nodded, his brow furrowing with empathy.
"Do you have someone there with her until you arrive?"
"Her sister's with her now, but I just... I need to be there," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
The businessman nodded again and then settled back into his seat.
I looked back out the window, my mind racing with thoughts of Michael and the baby.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost didn't notice when the cabin lights flickered back on.
The pilot's voice crackled over the intercom.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We'll be landing in thirty minutes, ten minutes ahead of schedule. Please make sure your seatbelts are securely fastened and all electronic devices are turned off."
I looked down at my watch and blinked in surprise - 9:45 PM.
The businessman beside me stirred from his light sleep, gathering up his papers and documents.
My hands automatically went to Michael's note, smoothing it out from where I had crumpled it up in my hand for the past few hours.
The flight attendants came through the cabin, collecting trash and checking everyone's seatbelts as we began our descent.
When I looked out the window again, I could see the city lights below us, shining like diamonds in the night.
I gripped onto the armrests tightly as we came down lower and lower until I could see the runway lights coming up to meet us.
The businessman turned to me one last time, his voice steady.
"If you need anything when we land, just let me know. I have a car waiting, and I can give you a ride to the hospital."
I nodded, grateful for his kindness.
The plane taxied to the gate, and then we were all up and out of our seats, grabbing our carry-on bags from the overhead bins.
I followed the businessman out of the plane and through the terminal, my bag bouncing against my leg as I walked.
We stopped at baggage claim, and he held out his hand for me to shake.
"I'm James Chen. It was nice to meet you."
I shook his hand firmly.
"Derek Hough. Nice to meet you too."
James smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I'm a regular at the hospital where your wife is staying. I own a medical supply company, so I'm there quite often."
I nodded, watching as the first suitcases began to come down the conveyor belt.
James pointed to two identical silver cases coming down.
"Those are mine. Do you see your bag?"
I scanned the conveyor belt and spotted my black duffel immediately.
"Yes, there it is."
James smiled again and grabbed his cases off of the conveyor belt.
"Well, I'll see you outside then."
I nodded and grabbed my bag, following him out of the terminal and to short-term parking.
He pulled out his car phone and spoke quietly into it as we walked.
A sleek black town car pulled up in front of us, and a man in a suit got out to load our bags into the trunk. James opened the back door for me and then got in beside me.
The driver got back in behind the wheel and started off towards the hospital.
James gave him Michael's address, and then we sped off into traffic.
James glanced over at me, his voice gentle.
"Have you thought about what you'll say to her when you get there?"
I hesitated, staring out the window at the blur of city lights.
"I just want her to know I'm here for her, no matter what happens."
The town car pulled up to the hospital's circular driveway, its bright lights casting harsh shadows on the building in front of us.
The driver got out and popped the trunk, and James helped me gather my bags from the back.
I thanked him again and again as he handed me his business card.
"If you need anything at all while you're here, just call me. I'm only a phone call away."
I nodded, tucking his card into my pocket and then following him through the automatic sliding doors into the lobby.
He gave me directions to get to the maternity ward - it was a maze of a building, but James knew it like the back of his hand.
He told me that he'd be praying for us and then turned to go find his car.
I stood there for a moment in the lobby, taking it all in.
The hospital was surprisingly quiet for how big it was.
A tired-looking receptionist sat behind her desk, typing away on her computer.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting an unforgiving glare over everything. I took a deep breath and walked over to her desk, my shoes squeaking on the shiny floor.
The receptionist looked up when she heard me coming, her eyes squinting slightly as she took in my rumpled clothes and bag slung over my shoulder.
"Can I help you?" she asked warily.
"I'm here to see Michael Jackson," I replied softly.
The receptionist's eyes widened slightly, and she nodded.
"Room 312, just take the elevator to the third floor and follow the signs," she said, her voice softening.
"Thank you," I murmured, gripping my bag tighter as I headed toward the elevator.
The elevator was empty when I stepped inside, and I pressed the button for the third floor.
The doors closed with a soft ding, and I watched as the numbers illuminated one by one on the display above the doors.
The elevator's walls were made of polished metal, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection.
I looked disheveled - my clothes were wrinkled from the flight, and there were dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep.
I ran a hand through my hair, smoothing it down as much as possible.
The elevator stopped at the second floor, but no one got on.
It continued up to the third floor, and I gripped my bag tighter as the doors opened.
I walked down the dimly lit hallway, passing nurses in scrubs who were quietly checking charts at their station.
The squeak of my shoes on the linoleum floor echoed through the empty corridor.
The rooms were numbered, and I counted them off as I walked - 308, 309, 310, 311...
Outside room 312, I paused for a moment, noticing that the door was slightly ajar.
I peered through the gap, seeing Michael's sister Lisa asleep in a chair beside her bed.
Her head was tilted back against the wall at an awkward angle, her dark hair falling down around her shoulders.
The medical monitors cast a soft blue glow over the room.
I took a deep breath, stepped inside, and gently closed the door behind me.
I stood just inside the doorway, watching Lisa's chest rise and fall in the chair.
The steady beeping of the monitors filled the room, and I took a few tentative steps forward.
Michael lay still in her hospital bed, her face peaceful despite all the wires and tubes snaking around her body.
My throat tightened as I looked at her like that.
"Lisa," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the equipment.
She didn't stir.
I moved closer and gently touched her shoulder.
"Lisa," I tried again, a little louder this time.
Her brow furrowed, and her eyes began to flutter open.
"What time is it?" she mumbled, blinking away the remnants of sleep.
"It's just past midnight," I replied softly, glancing at the clock on the wall.
"Did you find out anything new?" she asked, her voice tinged with both hope and fear.
Lisa stood up from the chair, stretching her stiff muscles.
"The doctors were able to stop the bleeding, but she's still unconscious. The medication is making her sleep a lot."
She glanced over at Michael's bed, and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.
"She's stable for now, but we'll need to monitor her closely to make sure the bleeding doesn't start again."
I nodded solemnly, feeling a lump form in my throat.
"What about the baby?" she asked softly.
"The doctor said they couldn't feel a heartbeat, but they'll need to check again when Michael wakes up," I replied gently.
Lisa nodded, wiping at her eyes.
"I need to make some calls," she said suddenly, picking up her bag from beside the chair.
"Would you mind staying with her while I'm gone? I'll just be down the hall."
"Of course," I replied quickly.
Lisa gave me a tired smile and squeezed my arm before turning to leave.
I watched as she stepped out into the hallway and closed the door softly behind her.
The room fell silent once again except for the steady beeping of the monitors.
I turned back to Michael's bedside and sat down in Lisa's vacant chair. Gingerly, I picked up Michael's limp hand with mine, studying her pale face in the dim light of the room.
Her skin was clammy, and there were dark circles under her eyes despite being asleep.
The steady beeping of the monitors provided a strange sense of comfort as I sat there with her.
I checked over all the wires and IV drips snaking around her body, making sure everything was secure.
There was a soft knock at the door, and a nurse came in with a clipboard in hand.
"How is she doing?" she asked softly, glancing at Michael's peaceful form in the bed.
"The same," I replied quietly.
"Is there any change in her condition?"
The nurse checked over the monitors and made a few notes on her clipboard.
"No, everything seems stable for now. If there are any changes, don't hesitate to call me."
With that, she left as quietly as she had arrived, closing the door softly behind her once again.
I settled back into my chair and looked at Michael intently.
"Michael," I whispered, hoping somehow she could hear me.
"I wish you could tell me what happened that night."
The silence in the room seemed to deepen, as if waiting for a response that would never come.
I settled back into the hard plastic chair, still holding her hand in mine.
The rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the soft hiss of oxygen were the only sounds in the room.
Her chest rose and fell steadily under the thin hospital blanket.
I leaned forward, my face inches from hers, and whispered softly, "I'll stay right here with you, Michael. I won't leave your side."
My thumb traced circles on her palm, hoping somehow she could feel my presence through the medication.
A strand of her dark hair had fallen across her face - I gently brushed it away, careful not to disturb the tubes snaking around her body.
As I did, she stirred slightly in her sleep, and I froze for a moment, wondering if she was waking up.
But she settled back into a peaceful slumber once again.
I leaned back, determined to keep my silent vigil until morning.
I leaned forward in the stiff hospital chair, my muscles aching from hours of sitting.
The fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows across Michael's pale face, her chest rising and falling steadily under the thin hospital blanket.
Her dark hair was matted against her forehead, and her normally vibrant eyes were sunken and closed.
My throat felt dry and scratchy, but I needed her to hear me.
I moved closer to her, careful not to disturb the tangle of IV lines and monitoring wires snaking around her body.
My fingers remained intertwined with hers, and I brought my face near her ear.
The steady beeping of machines punctuated the silence as I whispered the words I'd been holding since arriving: "I love you, Michael."
I sat back, feeling the weight of those words settle into the quiet room.
Her fingers twitched in my hand, and I leaned forward once more, studying her face intently.
The machines continued their steady beeping as I searched for any sign of movement.
I studied the furrow of her brow, the soft flutter of her eyelashes.
Her dry lips parted slightly, and I held my breath, squeezing her hand gently in mine.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, raspy from disuse: "I love you too."
My heart leaped, but before I could respond, her features relaxed once more.
The machines continued their steady rhythm as her breathing remained deep and even, slipping back into medicated sleep.
I leaned closer, my voice trembling with urgency, "Michael, what happened that night? Can you tell me anything?"
Her eyelids fluttered briefly, and she murmured, "It was dark... I remember the car swerving."
My heart pounded as I pressed on gently, "Was there someone else with you? Did you see who it was?"
She stirred again, her fingers tightening around mine, and I leaned closer still.
The morning sun cast strips of light through the blinds, illuminating the hospital room.
Her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to focus, blinking several times before meeting my gaze.
Fear flickered across her face, her heart monitor beeping faster.
Her voice was a mere whisper, her voice strained: "Derek... someone tried to run me off the road."
Her eyes darted to the door as footsteps echoed outside, growing louder.
I grabbed the water cup from the bedside table, carefully lifting it to her lips through the straw.
She took a small sip, her eyes never leaving the door.
"Derek, I think they know I'm here," she said, her voice trembling.
I glanced at the door, then back at her, whispering urgently, "We need to tell someone before it's too late."
I squeezed her hand, pressing the nurse call button with my other.
As we waited for her to arrive, I scanned the dim hospital room.
The door was slightly ajar, and shadows danced in the hallway outside, cast by the morning light filtering through the blinds.
Michael's heart monitor beeped faster as footsteps approached, and I positioned myself between her bed and the door, ready to protect her from whatever threat lay beyond.
The door creaked open, and a nurse in crisp blue scrubs entered, carrying a clipboard.
Her expression was grave as she approached Michael's bedside.
I motioned her closer and leaned in, whispering urgently, "We need to contact hospital security and the police."
She glanced at Michael's pale face, then back at me, her eyes wide with concern.
"What happened?"
I explained the incident at the hospital entrance, Michael's words still echoing in my mind: "I think they know I'm here."
The nurse nodded gravely, her lips pressed into a firm line.
"I'll make the calls. Stay with your wife."
I nodded, grateful for her swift action, and turned back to Michael.
Her eyes were wide, fear etched into every line of her face as she whispered, "Derek, I can't remember everything, but I know it wasn't an accident."
My heart sank as I realized the danger was far from over, and I promised, "We'll figure this out together, I won't let anything happen to you."
I scanned the hospital room, my gaze lingering on the large windows that let in the afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the floor.
The parking lot stretched out beyond the window, a sea of cars and distant sounds.
Moving quickly, I strode to the windows and yanked the thin curtains closed, my hands trembling slightly as I ensured no gaps remained.
Michael watched me from her bed, her heart monitor's beeping growing faster.
The fabric barely blocked the afternoon light, casting shadows that danced across the walls.
I checked the window locks twice, then positioned myself between the bed and windows.
A car horn blared from the parking lot outside, making us both jump.
I stood frozen, my gaze fixed on the parking lot beyond the window.
Between the slats of the blinds, I caught movement in the lot below, a dark figure ducking between cars.
My wife's grip on my arm tightened as she whispered urgently, "Derek, I saw that person before."
Her heart monitor's beeps grew faster.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot, making it difficult to track the figure's movement.
I reached for the hospital phone on the bedside table, my hands trembling slightly as I punched in the security desk number.
Michael clutched my other hand tightly as we waited for someone to answer.
I sat on the edge of her hospital bed, careful not to disturb the IV lines attached to her arm.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the closed curtains, and I glanced at the clock on the wall, willing the security team to arrive.
The heart monitor continued its rapid beeping as Michael glanced nervously between me and the window.
Her fingers trembled against mine, and she pulled me closer until our faces were inches apart.
The fear in her eyes made my chest tighten.
Outside, a car door slammed shut, causing Michael to flinch.
She leaned in closer, her voice barely audible over the hum of medical equipment.
I held her hand tightly, feeling the tremor in her palm as heavy footsteps approached the room.
The heart monitor's beeping quickened.
Three security officers entered our room, their walkie-talkies crackling with static.
The lead officer, a tall woman with graying hair and a stern expression, stepped forward.
"I'm Captain Martinez. Can you describe the person you saw?"
I nodded, pointing toward the window.
"A figure ducked between cars. Dark clothing. I didn't see any features."
Captain Martinez turned to her team, who began checking the windows and hallway outside.
Michael's grip on my hand tightened.
"They were watching me."
Her voice was weak and tired, her face pale.
The officer's eyes locked on Michael, her expression unreadable.
"Ma'am, can you describe what you saw?"
Michael hesitated before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I saw a dark car following us on the way here. A man in a black suit. He had his face hidden behind sunglasses." "Did you see his hair color or any distinguishing features?"
Captain Martinez asked, her eyes scanning Michael's pale face.
Michael's voice grew weaker with each passing word.
"He had his head down. I didn't see any features. But he was big."
Suddenly, Michael stopped mid-sentence, her gaze fixed on something beyond the officers standing in the doorway.
Her eyes went wide, and she pulled my hand closer until our faces were inches apart.
"Derek, he's here," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear.
I turned quickly, my heart pounding as I scanned the room for any sign of the intruder.
Captain Martinez followed my gaze, her hand instinctively moving to the radio on her belt.
I leaned forward, bringing my face closer to Michael's as she trembled in the hospital bed.
Her fingers gripped mine tightly while Captain Martinez spoke into her radio, requesting backup.
The thin curtains cast afternoon shadows across the sterile hospital room, and the heart monitor continued its steady beeping.
Michael's voice was weak but urgent as she described seeing the man's face clearly for the first time - angular features, a thin scar above his left eyebrow.
Her words broke off as tears formed in her eyes.
"I know him," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.
"He was part of my dance company's security team."
I squeezed her hand reassuringly, my voice low and steady as I leaned closer to her ear.
"I'm here for you, Michael. I won't leave your side."