Jackson was lying on the middle of the basement floor, his arm bent, practically broken almost in two places. He didn't know what he was going to do if Robbie came back. He was ready to give everything up.
Everything.
He had to remind himself that Miley cared, and that Miley was looking for him.
Because otherwise, he'd never make it out of there alive… Again.
--
Miley sat on her chair, holding her hands in her head. She had a Hannah Montanah concert that night. She didn't want to do it. She felt like she was betraying Jackson. But she knew she had too, or everyone would know her connection.
She smiled as she got up on stage and yelled, "So who's for some good music?" Everyone, of course, cheered. She smiled, then continued on.
Singing helped a little bit; she often wondered if she'd caught her dad, late at night, drowning his sorrows in his guitar. "This one's for a friend of mine," she called, "who's hurt. I wrote it myself. Everyone be praying for my friend, okay?"
The crowd cheered; they loved her original stuff.
If you're beaten down
Broken down
Beat up
Don't give up
You gotta pick up
Push up
Get up again
Don't give up
It's too early to give up
You should never give in
Don't let them win
Don't let them win
Get up, Get up
Get up again
You gotta push up
Push up
You gotta push up
Push up
It's not about just the weakness I feel without you
It's not about not knowing myself when you're gone
It's that you're not here
You're not by my side
I don't know how to do it without you
Stay alive for
me
Stay alive for me
Stay alive for me
Stay alive for me one more time
She smiled, tears running down her cheeks as she allowed the Jonas Brothers to take over. They understood and said they'd step in early. She was all too grateful.
"I've got to go," Miley called, "but anyone attending this concert gets a free copy of my CD for download." She shouted out the instructions – three times – and then left.
Stay alive for me, Jackson, she whispered under her breath. Stay alive for me.
--
Jackson covered his hands with his head as he heard someone come downstairs. He knew Robbie had been out drinking, and prayed it wasn't him. Please don't let it be him, he whispered softly. Anyone, please rescue me? Will you rescue me?
He sighed as he felt his arm. It was so broken. "Hey, Jackson?" a voice called. Not Robbie's voice. "Are you down here? This is Officer Richard Greenland. We're here to help."
Officers?
Then another thought struck him: I'm being rescued?