The room was in darkness, but there was enough light filtering through from the partially open curtain for him to see his brother. Sat at his desk, whisky in hand. Nothing else, no light source, no sounds.
Even his brother's breathing was almost silent.
He crept in and closed the door behind him, standing with his back against it. There was no indication the man at the desk had even registered his presence. This was not going to be easy.
'Do you remember the first two weeks directly after Mom died?' if his brother was expecting that, he didn't show anything. Did he remember? Gordon was pretty sure that he didn't.
The two weeks immediately after the avalanche Scott was in hospital. He wasn't at home to see the utter shambles of their family disintegrating under the strain of two brothers in hospital and a dead mother.
'Because I'm pretty sure your memories are going to be different to mine.' He remembered the confusion, the strange people that came and went, new relatives that appeared for a while then disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again.
'We were floundering. Nothing made sense, nothing was right.' Gordon paused.
'Then you came home.' Scott and Alan had been released together, Alan with his leg still in a cast, Scott with his arm likewise.
'Mom's funeral was the next day. That morning you got everyone up, made sure we all ate, had dressed in the right clothes, had brushed our teeth. Your almost-12-year-old self lined us up at the door for Dad to inspect us.' Another pause. 'He didn't even look at us.'
He watched his brother pour more into his glass. There still hadn't been any acknowledgement, any sign at all.
'We were floundering. Then you were there. You stood tall. You took charge. Suddenly we went from being all at sea to having a purpose, to being a family again. Hell, I went up a grade in the same year because of you. You were our guiding light.'
'You were our light, Scott, you are the only reason this family stayed together, is still together.' Another pause. Scott drank the whisky and refilled the glass.
'Well, it's our turn, Scott. It's our time to look after you, to be there for you, to be your guiding light.
'Please. Just let me, let us.'
There was a second glass poured, and Gordon sat down.