Michael felt guilt, like a heavy pit in his stomach. He felt sadness, a dark cloud looming over him. He felt pain, an aching beat in his heart.

"She didn't deserve this," Michael shook his head as he spoke lowly to his brother. "I brought her into all of this, it's my fault she's dead."

"Michael," Lincoln said and leaned forward towards his brother. "Her death is not on you."

Michael looked at his brother with tears swimming in his eyes, until they ran down his cheek and fell onto his dress shirt he still had on from the funeral. He couldn't believe his brother, he knew the truth. If he hadn't brought you into all of this, gotten you involved, you would still be alive.

Michael looks down and away from his brothers gaze, breaking underneath the scrutiny. "Its my fault."