So, this isn't my normal fandom. I'm more of the Supernatural and Harry Potter kind of girl, but this movie touched me and I had to write something — and Michael seemed like such a character to explore. This is what came from it. Enjoy.

Michael was always with Tyler. From the day Tyler found his body hanging cruelly from that awful piece of rope onwards, Michael stayed with his baby brother, confused, lost, and mildly dazed. After all, he hadn't expected to find himself still wandering the earth after he died.

In life, Michael was selfish. It took death for the man to figure that piece of his life out. The pain he saw in his family's eyes was all it took for him to finally understand what made him so depressed and withdrawn. He had everything, but he had wanted something more. Now, he would never find out what that something was.

It was too late for any of that.

He was dead to the world and only he could see himself.

It was ironic that he was stuck, wandering endlessly. It was almost like he was alive — but now, there was no way too talk to his mom or ruffle Tyler's like he used to. Those luxuries — how strange it was to call such little things luxuries — were within sight and just out of his reach.

Soon after his passing, Michael noticed his father spending less time with the family, throwing himself into life at the office. It wasn't how it should be, but it was. Michael couldn't do anything about it.

Caroline was only a child when he passed — she could barely remember what he looked like, yet his death had such an impact on her lively childhood spirit. She too became withdrawn, but in her own way. Her thoughts and art captivated her mind. No more was the giggling child who would run in circles for the fun of it. There was only a quiet girl in her place.

And Tyler, his little brother. While he put up a front for Caroline, he regressed in society. The old Tyler — the boy he once knew would never get in trouble with the law. Now, their father had to bail him out twice within the last year. Michael was responsible for his younger brother and he had let Tyler down miserably.

It was all because of Michael. The cacophony and disruption his death caused started an endless spiral that was impossible to stop.

(~) (~) (~) (~) (~)

Michael stood idly beside his brother, a pained expression on his immortalized twenty-two year old face. He desperately ached to reach out and touch the boy — no, man — that his brother had become without him.

But that wasn't Tyler's fault — it was only his own. No one else could be blamed for ending his life and forcing his sixteen year old brother to be swept away in the family tragedy. No, Michael would take the blame for the scarring Tyler had to endure.

Michael closed his eyes, biting his lip as agony soared through his still veins. Without meaning to, he clenched his fists. Despite everything, he wanted to scream and ask why his family had to endure what they were about to. Tyler didn't deserve this—not at all. Michael wanted so badly to shake his brother—to tell him to run before it was too late.

To take the stairs, not the elevator.

I'm sorry, baby brother.

It was already too late. The planes were too close and Tyler was too many floors up. His brother would never make it in time.

Tyler walked over to the window, leaving a dirty brown notebook by the computer at the desk, a small smile faintly appearing in every crease of his face. Michael pain increase, but in a selfish way, he was glad.

Michael wouldn't be alone. Not anymore.

But the people Tyler was leaving behind — their mom, dad, and Caroline — would suffer so much without their remaining son to pull the family back together.

After all, that was Tyler. He was the glue and they all needed him.

This time, they wouldn't have him.

I'm so sorry.

A crisp wind floated through the room, but Tyler was wrapped up in his own thoughts — he never felt the strange whisper of the foreign breeze. A few strands of his hairs floated down to his forehead.

I want to help...I do.

Michael turned from his brother, catching a quick glimpse of retreating high-heels. On the computer desk, the notebook flipped open. The long-dead wisp of the man once called Michael averted his eyes from the book, almost guilty. Every last word in that book was directed towards him — all the pain and suffering he forced upon Tyler, as well as the forgiveness that Michael never felt he deserved.

It was all there, but Michael didn't want the words.

He wanted life, but, once again, it was too late for that. He gave his up eight years ago.

It's too late, baby brother. It's too late.

And then the roof came crashing down and Michael caught one fleeting glimpse of the confusion in his brother eyes before the building fell.

I hope you don't hate me, Tyler.

This movie was heartbreaking, but I deeply enjoyed it. I hope you liked seeing through Michael's eyes because I really liked writing it.

Review, please.