Sunday, September 16th, 1990

Berlin, Germany

Hotel Adlon Kempinski Berlin

Michael went to open the door to our suit, it was most-likely Ryan or one of the other body guards. As he got up, I noticed he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday only now they were rumpled and looked dull and frayed. Interesting how you notice all the little things even more than normal when your world has crash landed into a lake of despair. It was Bill at the door. His deep voice met my ears in the silence as he said something to Michael.

"Sir, you might want to turn on the TV." That caught my attention. Sitting up, I did exactly what Bill said, even though Michael was softly protesting why he should do such a thing. He must not have caught the undertone of Bill's voice when he spoke. 

It was on every local channel. A well-dressed woman from the local news was covering our story, talking in fluent German, thankfully there were English subtitles already being process across the screen. My eyes flashed across the TV, reading the translations as quickly as they appeared.

"Michael? Michael! Get in here! It's about Paisley and Jordie!" He ran back into the bedroom, eyes going straight for the screen. We heard Bill shut the door as he came in to watch too.

"Viele Fans haben sich vor dem Hotel Adlon versammelt, um den jüngsten Verlust von Paisley Jackson, der Tochter des berühmten Michael und Astoria Jackson, zu unterstützen." (Many fans have gathered outside the Hotel Adlon in support of the recent loss of Paisley Jackson, daughter of the famed Michael and Astoria Jackson.) Slowly it was as if the translation changed the woman's voice, in my head at least, she began speaking English...

"It seems, just like her parents, fans are outraged." The screen cut to two female fans, one was holding a sign that read 'Gerechtigkeit für Paisley und Jordan!' (Justice for Paisley and Jordan).

"I can't believe something of this caliber would happen to such a wonderful couple, one who we all know and love." The fan without the sign stated. The interview moved the mic to her for a quick follow-up question.

"How does the abduction make both of you feel?" The woman holding the sign spoke first.

"Oh! I'm absolutely enraged! She's only five-years old, and she's their only child! Chandler needs to be brought to justice!" Her friend spoke up next.

"Yes, what that man needs is a swift kick in the ass! How dare he!"

"And let's not forget his own son is a victim here too. Justice for Paisley and Jordan!" The two woman began chanting again in German in tune with the rest of the crowd. The screen cut to the reporter talking to some younger individuals, one teenage girl and a few men.

"Can you tell me what you all are here for today?" The girl looked shyly at the camera with the microphone in front of her. As she began talking, she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

"We're here because children are in danger. As fans of Michael we won't stand for such an injustice, especially since it's his daughter. We're here to show support to him, his wife, and their family during this turbulent time." One of the guys next to her spoke up next.

"A lot of us have created groups who are taking turns looking for this Chandler guy around Germany, we have people all across the country." The reporter looked surprised.

"Right now?" She asked the man. He nodded, the microphone returning to him.

"Yes. Right this very minute. Like I said, we're taking it in shifts. If the BPOL (Bundespolizei) can't manage to find them, then we will. This pedophile has left the German people no choice!" The screen cut to another camera shot, this time of all the people standing in equal support and protest of what has happened panning across them all outside of our hotel. I felt kind of amazed, as you could hear their chanting. The screen changed again, showing the female reporter back in the studio. In the top right corner of the screen was an unflattering photo of Evan for identification.

"The police have asked if you have any information on the kidnapping of Paisley Jackson and Jordan Chandler to please call this hotline number here on the screen. That's 214-8655. Little Paisley was last seen wearing a bright yellow t-shirt, white shorts, and pale purple butterfly sandals. And Jordan was wearing a Los Angeles Lakers jersey over a purple t-shirt, jean shorts, and a pair of worn, red, Air Jordans." She turned, following the camera. "Now let's go to our police representative, Devin, to help us understand how this entire tragedy unfolded."

"Wow..." Michael muttered under his breath, but I heard him nonetheless. We continued watching the news program unfold in front of us. "We're gonna have to have a press conference when all of this is over."

"SHH!" I wanted- No. Needed to hear what they were saying. This is the most accurate and honest reporting I'd seen so far about our situation, and after what that man said about the German fans putting together search groups... I had to listen. We could talk after the story was over. The screen shifted to Devin, the man who corresponds with the local police. He looked smart, in a fitted, tan suit, but I don't care what he's wearing. What I care more about is what he has to say.

"It was late yesterday evening when tragedy fell over the Jackson household. What was supposed to be a simple overnight stay, turned into one of severe loss." They showed an overview picture of The Ranch. "Seen here is the home of the well-known couple and where the kidnapping of the decade took place. A man by the name of Evan Chandler was welcomed into their home, only to take the Jackson's daughter, Paisley away from everything she'd come to know." I sniffed, hearing someone else put into words what had happened made my heart clench.

"Somehow Chandler evaded the Jackson's security force. Here, he can been seen exiting The Ranch on video camera in his black 1982 Ford Escort with ease. It's one of those freak moments where everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. Chandler drove the children to the Santa Ynez Private Airport as the Jackson household were scrambling after them, making a spur-of-the-moment choice to fly the kids across the world to Germany. As a private plane owner, and regular at Santa Ynez, the airport workers thought this was another joy ride for a couple of curious, happy children. Sadly, this wasn't the case." The camera panned as Devin took a few steps to the right. "After making a risky pit stop on the east coast for gas, Chandler flew the remainder of the way to Berlin Tegel Airport. Only moments after the three left TXL, were the authorities made aware of what had taken place in America and to be on the lookout for Chandler's plane."

"Now, the world is waiting. Waiting for justice, waiting for a sign, waiting for anything. How could so many people have allowed a convicted pedophile, now infamous kidnapper, to slip through their fingers. The world is in an outrage, and so am I. This NOW NEWS Berlin, and I'm Devin Jacobs, signing off." 

Michael switched off the TV. "At least in Berlin they got the story right for once..." He sounded bitter, dismal as he plotted back on the bed. "Have you heard anything, Bill?"

"No, sir. Nothing yet." Michael grimaced.

We didn't hear anything for two days.

Tuesday, September 18th, 1990

Berlin, Germany

9:27 AM

"Ryan." No reaction. "Psst. Hey Ryan!" I loudly whispered at him, he finally reacted, turning to give me his attention. I hated having to ask him this, but the only time Michael and I said we'd leave the hotel would be to go get the kids. And yes, we're staying optimistic.

"Ma'am."

"I need a few things from the store, do you think..." My voice trailed off as I held out a piece of paper with a written list on it. On said list was something I hoped he wouldn't pay much attention too.

"Of course. Consider it done, Mrs. Jackson." My nerves went away. He's a professional, I know that. Ryan and Bill have been with us for forever. I have nothing to worry about with them.

"Great. Thank you, Ryan. Really, I mean it." Hanging onto the door, the past couple had brought me back down to earth in a severe manner, making me feel eternally grateful for those around Michael, Paisley, and I who were genuine. I'd found myself thanking those individuals, the ones who weren't close by, I'd taken the time to call to tell them.

Michael... He's in a bad way right now, and he's said some hurtful things that I know he doesn't mean.  He's just processing and I can't blame him for being angry and snapping at people because I did the same thing at first, but then my hard shell cracked and I realized it wasn't going to help things. Ryan gave me a sweet smile.

"Pleasure working for you all, Mrs. Jackson." Giving him a nod, I closed the door once more. Again, stuck in the beautiful hotel suit with nothing to do...

My husband wanted to be left alone right now, so I let him be. He'd been writing furiously all morning, angry and frustrated tears falling silently from his eyes. If it's songs he's writing, or simply getting his feelings out on paper I didn't know, and I wasn't about to ask him either. Leaving him in the bedroom at the desk, I chose to wait in the living room for the shopping to be brought back. There were fan gifts on one of the coffee tables; as usual, not everything had been brought into the suit, there was way too much to be able to do that. But one thing caught my eye, a book titled, The Power of Positive Thinking by Dr. Norman Vincent Peale. I picked it up, reading the back of the jacket. Michael had mentioned this book before but I'd never taken the time to read it, now seemed as good of a time as any to give the book a shot. So, I sat and began reading to pass the time. 

I'd fallen asleep with the book resting against my chest when Ryan knocked at the door again. Stretching, I got up, answered the door and took the bag from Ryan with a 'thank you' escaping from between my lips. With the door to the world shut again, I riffled through the bag to find the one thing I was glad no one was making a huge fuss over. A pregnancy test. I'd been suspicious for about a week now, but didn't want to say anything until I knew for certain. This wasn't the most opportunistic moment to suddenly have your last wish granted; we'd been trying to have another baby since PJ was a year old, but nothing! And now that she's been kidnapped, suddenly I'm pregnant again? That's kind of fucked up, God...

I set the bag on the chair I'd been sitting in, heading for the bathroom with the box gripped in my hands. This felt like the first time I took a pregnancy test at Hayvenhurst when I was terrified Michael would figure it out before I was able to tell him. The moment I fumbled with the stick popped into my mind, making me glance down at my feet as I walked through the bedroom to get to the ensuite. I was hoping Michael would think nothing of me heading for the restroom, but that was until a pair of all-too-familiar loafers appeared opposite of my own feet, stopping me in my tracks. My head and sight slowly panned up to look at his face, feeling sheepish as hell as I clutched the box of tests to my chest. Our eyes locked before his kept flickering between what I was holding and looking into my eyes. He looked awful, but I probably looked a site too.

"Ash, you're -"

"Maybe. I don't know." I bit my bottom lip. We needed something good to appear in our lives right now, but this wasn't exactly what we'd had in mind. I crossed my legs, unable to stand still at the moment. I feel so antsy! 

"Can I be in there with you?" His voice was quiet, hesitant. It's the first time in a while he hasn't been snappy. My face contorted.

"You wanna be in there with me while I pee on multiple sticks?" We've seen each other fart, fall flat on our face, have horrible cases of diarrhea, even hurl like a waterfall on occasion, so peeing wouldn't make much of a difference. His eyebrow raised at me.

"Multiple? Isn't one enough?"

"After all the false positives we've gotten, it's gonna be difficult for me to believe a single test." He made a face, nodding in understanding.

"Makes sense..." Then he clapped his hands together, rubbing them against each other. I flinched. "Okay, let's go pee." A small scoff came out of me in reaction, but he didn't acknowledge it as we both walked into the sizable bathroom. There was a small wall to the side of the toilet, giving some sense of privacy to my chagrin. My husband hopped up on the granite countertop, his butt between the two sinks and his hands clasped together in his lap.

"You're adorable." I muttered without emotion.

"Aww, you mean that?" He replied, realizing my lack of emotion. A small laugh left me.

"You're gonna have to help me with all these, please." I handed him the box, getting the first one ready before pulling down my trousers and underwear. 

"Tell me how to do this, Ash." He fumbled with the packaging.

"Here, watch me." I opened up the second of the three tests. If someone had burst into the bathroom right now, boy would they get an eye-full! Michael sitting on the counter like a child that had just hurt their knee, me with my pants and lacy underwear in a pool around my ankles, both of us fiddling with the packaging of a bundle of pregnancy tests. What a mess. We got them all open and ready after a minute of figuring it out - I mean, how many times had we already done this? Must be nerves. "Hand them to me as I... You know." A slight smile appeared on his face.

"As you go pee?" My shoulders slumped.

"Yes." He chuckled. I turned, stepping out of my trousers and panties to walk the couple steps to the toilet. Until a SMACK sounded through the air making me jump. "Ahh!" I turned back, scrutinizing my husband with my free hand now covering my smarting butt. "That hurt." I mumbled, whining just a little. He giggled, covering his mouth.

"Mmm, I couldn't help myself." He shrugged, his cheeks rosy with a wide, toothy grin manipulating his features. "It jiggles." Michael explained simply, as if that was all the explanation anyone would ever need in this kind of situation. I frowned, letting go of my ass as well as not thinking about having to pee - because now I need to. "And now it's nice and pink - Fuck. Ok. Pee on the sticks before I lose it, please." While giving him an highly unamused stare, I sat down on the toilet and did what I needed to do. I had to stop peeing every time I asked him for the next test. See, I already knew this was what I was going to be doing with my afternoon when I handed Ryan that list.

When we were finally done - thank god - the both of us washed our hands and leaned against the counter, waiting. Again. Everything seemed to have a waiting time right now, but at least we knew the time frame for the pregnancy tests on other things that are happening... not so much.  Both of us had our arms crossed against our chests, and I hadn't bothered putting my pants back on, just my underwear. My eyes caught Michael eyeballing me out of my peripheral vision.

"What?" I asked him, not turning to look at him. Two fingers gently touched under my chin, moving my head so I'd look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry." His eyes were full of regret, for what I have no idea.

"For what?" I don't understand. His eyes closed for a couple seconds.

"I feel like this entire ordeal is my fault." His shoulders slumped. "I keep playing that night over and over in my head, trying to find the moment I could have changed things..." I watched his eyes grow red as his emotions grew. "I- I hurt, Astoria. I've never felt pained like this before." He let his tears fall as his voice cracked. My arms wrapped around his middle immediately, my hands splayed out across his back.

"I can't breathe." I admitted quietly. "But if we didn't feel this way what kind of parents would we be?" A shuddering breath escaped him, shaking his torso as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. A moment passed as we held each other, silently exchanging our grief as she swayed.

How long did those tests need again? Wait.

"Michael?"

"Hmm?" He didn't move, still swaying while holding me. But my eyes were wide, alert like my ears. I swear to god I just heard something.

"Did you hear that?" Lazily, he shook his head 'no'. Obviously he didn't want to move from the position we were in, and I didn't really want to either until the sound hit my ears again. "There! It just happened again!" It was this time I was certain I'd heard something. Regretfully I let go of Michael and we opened the door to the bathroom, revealing a hectic-looking Bill.

"We gotta go! Now!"

"It's about Paisley?" Michael asked quickly. Bill nodded. I rushed backwards to grab my trousers, quickly pulling them on so we could leave as quickly as possible. 

"Shit!" I cried as we had began to walk out the door. My husband turned to look at me.

"What, babe?" I felt like crying.

"No shoes!" I pointed at my feet. This exchanged happened so quickly that I barely registered Michael grabbing and picking me up bridal style and carrying me out the suit, down the hallway and into the elevator. We had six, very ready bodyguards with us including Bill and Ryan. Four extras, who were planning on being ready for anything to go down during this confrontation and weren't staying at the hotel with us, they planned to meet us wherever we needed them too. Bless them. 

Not gonna lie, I felt a bit like a child with my husband carrying me through the hotel. Wonder what the press will say - AW, WHO CARES ASTORIA. YOU'RE GONNA GET YOUR BABY GIRL BACK!

I couldn't believe Michael managed to get me to the limo. As the driver took off a little over the speed limit I eyeballed him. 

"You're strong!"

"You're surprised?" He asked as I blinked at him. Bill stayed in the limo with us on the way to our unknown destination to give us the run-down of what our security team had found out. There was a black Mercedes both in front of us, and behind us, all with our security. "K, hit us with what you got Bill." He gave a curt nod to Michael.

"One of the patrols ran by German citizens saw a man and two children exiting a corner store at 11:05 am here in Berlin, when approached he took the kids and ran. Two able individuals chased after him and were able to corner him in a building, the BPOL are already there. They have the place currently surrounded and have been able to properly identify him as Evan Chandler." I gripped Michael's hand tightly.

"Are they ok?" Bill knew exactly who I was talking about, at this point who wouldn't? He gave me a defeated look.

"We don't know yet. Last we heard, Chandler's not letting either one of the kids interact with the police. We'll find out more when we get there." 

It took us literally 3 minutes longer to go to where the BPOL had Chandler and the kids surrounded. God, I hope they weren't scared...

"Astoria!" Michael yelled after me, but my feet didn't stop. I couldn't. She's right there in that building surrounded by police and GSG 9, or what we'd call a swat team in America. I'd yanked the limo door open as soon as we stopped and Bill had confirmed this was it. No vehicles were going to be able to make it through the crowds - a ton of people were here, by a ton I mean thousands - just individuals. So, I did what I think anyone else in my situation would do: run. 

I ran towards the multiple-storied building, where only one window was