"I can't leave him here Alex, no matter how much I want to go with you." He looks up to me, his eyes wider and sadder than I've ever seen them before. "I'm all he has."

I lay my hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently since I can't think of any words that could make this situation better. Michael turns his head so his face is pressed up against my stomach, away from the outside world.

I notice that he holds his brother's hand tighter.

"How did this happen," I question softly. Staring at his figure in the bed makes me feel nauseous; he looks too familiar to Michael for my own comfort.

"A premature blast while he was out mining gold. I want to be able to blame somebody but I can't, it was just a faulty fuse. The explosion happened before they were ready, Martin wasn't in the safety area." He sighs and wraps his free arm around my waist. "Rocks went flying all around him, a good sized one hit him in the head. He never woke up."

I run my fingers through his short hair, staring down at his older brother, his only family left while tears prick my eyes. "I'm so sorry Michael."

He lifts his head up to look at me. "You know, I think you're the first person to ever mean that."

I look at him sadly before I move to sit on his lap. "Tell me about him," I mumble into the crook of his neck.

Michael chuckles softly before saying, "Well if he saw us now he would probably say some perverted comment."

I giggle. "Sounds like my cousins."

"He's a great man," he says, growing serious. "He's taught me everything I know."

I lift my head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. "Well than I have to thank him for that."

He smiles softly, his eyes getting wetter as he stares at his role model. "Before the accident we were planning on moving out to that island. We bought the land and everything and he was so excited to leave Walker even though it was our home. He was preparing everything, ended the lease with the house we were renting, sold our single car that took us forever to save up for, and gave away most of our money that we had. We didn't need it anyways. All we had was a dream shared between the both of us.

"But then I get a call on one of my last days of work while I was mining myself a couple miles away. They told me that my brother was injured in an explosion and he was being shipped off to hospital in the city by helicopter." Michael laughs dryly before wiping his eyes furiously with the back of his hand. "I didn't have a car, or a boat, or anyway to get to this damn place when he needed me. It took me two days to get here and by that time he already sank into his coma," Michael says, his voice breaking on each word. "I haven't heard his voice in five years."

I pull Michaels head to my chest, letting him mourn for the brother who is so close but so far away. I don't say anything to Michael, mainly because I don't think any words can help this situation. He just needs to cry and put some of the weight on his shoulders on my own. I'll gladly take it.

As he cries I take a survey of the room, analyzing Martin for as long as I need to before I spot something that catches my eye.

There are a row of wooden sculptures like the ones from Michael's cabin lined up on the furnace below the window. There must be twenty, possibly more, in all different shapes and sizes and different designs. But there are no other angels like the one that is in my own pocket.

Once again I'm shocked by Michael's gift.

Is there anything he can't do?

I didn't notice Michael had stopped crying until he speaks up, startling me. "My brother has always been artistic. He has a true gift."

"Wait," I say cautiously, following Michael's red and puffy eyes to the row of wooden figurines. "Martin made all of these?"

He nods his head with a smile. "Started when we moved to Alaska."

"Did he make the ones in your cabin too?"

Did he make the angel that I had every intention of stealing?

Michael reads my mind and reaches into my pocket, wrapping his hand around the angel and smiles. "All of them."

"Oh my gosh! Michael! I didn't know, I'm-"

"Don't," Michael says before pressing his lips to mine quickly. "Don't apologize. I'm glad that someone else can cherish his work as well."

"He could make a fortune out of these. They're so beautiful."

Michael shakes his head roughly. "He's never wanted to sell them, I won't either."

"Michael," I say, growing curious, "how do you make money? I mean you needed money to get the supplies you have back home and the boat, not to mention the hospital bills I bet."

I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

"In Walker most people exchange things to get what they need, so I always do work or give them food in exchange for supplies to live on my own. The hospital bills though," he sighs and looks back down to his brother, "is a completely different story. Thankfully I could still keep my job after the accident because it's my only source of income six months of the year. Every penny of it goes to this gaping hole," he grumbles, looking around the room.

"Do they treat him alright," I ask softly. I've been to hospitals before, hell I stayed in one for three weeks after the car accident but maybe it's my social status and my Mom's threats to kill everyone but I was always in hospitals that were freshly clean and looked as if they were built the year before. This one however has proof all over the place that's its old and not everyone's first choice to be taken care of because it's so small. But I bet this is the only place that Michael could afford."

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I can only come every once in a while, mostly while I'm nearby mining but then again it's been five years and he hasn't made any progress," he grumbles. "They don't seem to be trying to do everything they can to save him."

"Maybe they are," I say quietly, "you just aren't here to see it."

Yep, definitely need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

Michael looks away, pulling him arm back to his side. "Can I have a couple minutes with my brother please?"

Hurt and guilty I stutter out an okay before exiting the room quietly. The room has no windows to the hallway like large hospitals normally do so I'm stuck by myself in the quiet hallway except for a young woman at nurses' station nearby.

I sit down in the one of the few seats available in the hallway thinking about how much of a royal inconsiderate bitch I am to have said that to Michael. Maybe I do still have some edges of myself that I need to smooth out.

A couple minutes pass before the nurse behind the computer gasps, bringing a hand to her mouth. I look up to her, preparing myself to ask if everything is alright but think again once I realize we're in a hospital. Nothing is alright here.

My curiosity however gets the best of me when I notice her eyes switching from the screen to myself and back to the screen, all with wide eyes.

"Is there something I can help you with miss," I snap.

She visibly swallows down her fear, something I've actually seen before when I talk to strangers. "I can't believe it," she whispers more to herself. "Bobby will kill me when I tell him I met you."

"Excuse me?"

A look of confusion spreads across her face. She looks to the computer screen before looking back at me. "You are Alexandria Stavros right? The heiress to the Stavros hotel chain?"

Dread courses through me at the sound of my name. And here I was thinking that no one is Alaska would be social enough to recognize me.

I peek over at the door of Martin's room, seeing that I didn't close the door all the way.

Hopefully Michael will be out soon so we can leave before she asks for an Instagram picture.

"You're mistaken," I grumble.

"You're like the richest person on the planet!" she exclaims, ignoring my comment. "I heard your butlers have butlers who have butlers! It is true that you never wear the same outfit twice? Ever?"

I look down to my clothes, the same clothes I met Michael in, added with one of his flannels. Seriously these ugly things are growing on me, but only Michael's.

I've worn these clothes for the past week, washing them five times since then. "No," I smile, "that's false."

"What about the cost of your hair? I heard it can sell for over thirty million dollars!"

"Twenty million actually," I correct her. "You're thinking about my thighs. Those are thirty million."

"Woah." She sinks back into her seat, a shocked expression locked onto her face. "This is unreal. I don't believe it."

"Well it makes a lot of sense to me."

I look up the voice, surprised to see Michael standing in the doorway, his fists clenched at his sides and a sneer directed towards me.

"Michael," I stand up, ready to run to him and explain.

I was hoping this wouldn't happen. I wanted to stay Alex from the states to him forever, his princess and sailor.

"Alexandria fucking Stavros," he growls, sending chills down my spine, "the girl who bought her own island in the Caribbean when she was seventeen. The girl who dated movie star after movie star! The girl who has fucking children named after her? Who has movies and books based off her life, the girl who doesn't even have the effort to waste to pick up a dropped hundred dollar bill?"

"Well when you put it like that it sounds pretty bad." I rub the back of my head, feeling beyond uncomfortable.

Michael marches past me, careful to move his shoulder so I won't come in contact with him at all. It hurts more than I thought it would.

"Michael! Wait," I yell as I run to catch up to him.

What did I think was going to happen?

I could never just be Alex to him, not when the rest of the world knew me as Alexandria Stavros.

...
MY BROTHERS WIFE IS IN LABOR RIGHT NOW!! HAS BEEN SINCE THIS MORNING AND HOPEFULLY BY TONIGHT I GET TO HOLD MY NEWEST NEPHEW IN MY ARMS!!!!!!:)