It was increasingly taxing to reminisce about my past. Whenever I have moved on from something, I would retire the memories to compact boxes to be buried under a recess of scrap thoughts and memories that it wouldn't resurface from. That isn't to say I wouldn't remember, no. Unfortunately for me and all those around me, my memory was as sharp as an elephant's, though I guess it would be neglectful to say that I didn't forget some things. Or, at least, I wanted to forget some things. I wanted to forget how it felt to watch my younger siblings' eye tourists and wealthier people with envy as they ate sweets and toured parts of our city. I wanted to forget all kinds of things that I couldn't control, nor should I ever have felt at fault for. As most unfortunate things seem to be, these things were unforgettable. I could never forget the way my intestines would knot every time I would see a dirty, gray van for the rest of my life. I could never forget the disturbance in my little sister's eyes when she realized I was no longer safety. My heart strings were evidently very obvious and easy to pull... because when I first saw the loss of weight in Finn's face, the images of starving children and a variety of impoverished senses came tumbling back with the weight of a stampede of thousands more animals than you could imagine. Than I wanted him to imagine. And so, instead of a jab about said condition, I found myself merely gritting my teeth and handing him the beer as if it was a preordained action to sate some kind of guilt I felt for the fact that he was in worse condition than the last time I saw him.

"...What if I got one of those bells? That could be your rent for you staying here. Like... Ring ring: Oh Finley! Time to come sweep the floor with your toothbrush. Oh Finley! Time to come shave my legs!"

With a thoughtful nod, I took another sip of my beer. Those things sounded like entirely entertaining options, right? Finn's comments about playing my PS4 would have made me cringe, once. But now? He could have it. The icy exterior I'd adopted out of irritation from his disappearance was not as easy to retain, not with the stupid smile that plastered itself on his face. The ease with which our relationship slid into its prior realm had a similar smile on my face; a smile reserved for those who I truly, genuinely cared for. The guard gates had fallen, and it was immensely pleasing... Hell, it was a relief and a half to be able to sit on my couch without shoes on, making remarks at another man who wouldn't take it the wrong way and if he did? He' d tell me. He would use words that would resound in a way that I would either laugh or hit him, and he'd egg me on. It was simple, really. There were no others who could fill the void that my siblings left.

And what's more? I knew they felt the same.

"Wait, wait... how did you even get it up that high? I know you're an inch taller and all but there are other special requirements that you lack." The words were laced with a malicious taunt, a wicked grin tugging at my lips as I sat up to hand him the cigar, knowing he would appreciate it as much as I do. "Fetch." I tossed the beer up, not caring if it landed on the ground behind us and broke, simply waiting for Finn to jump up and try and grab the beer with whatever gymnastic ability he may attempt to profess. I wanted to see a graceless fall, and I wanted to laugh harder than I'd been able to in a long time.

The conversation flowed quickly into territory regarding our mutual charge: Elenore. She had professed a dire need to be closer to family, family she cared about more so than our mother and her slew of boyfriends, ex-husbands and more. I had obliged the desire, knowing that she would be better off in a city near me, even if I hadn't been sure Finn would be back. It was always one of us, wasn't it? Troy wasn't close by, and he didn't worry about her safety. And my God did the girl need someone to. I had bought the apartment for her so she would have no need to deal with a landlord, and it was in a good part of town. What more could she need in that sense? We could make deals with the neighbors, the building management... She would be in my care, and that's all that really mattered. The rest was just rust and stardust.

"That's what I said, too." I didn't want her to live alone. I would have preferred that she take up residence in Finn's old room, but it wasn't an easy thing to convince her of. She wanted autonomy, individuality, independence... Whatever, she's like 12. "But she insisted, so I ... may or may not have just bought the apartment for her. Maybe I should have bought the building, that would have aggravated her nicely!"

I winked before pulling out a sister cigar to the one I'd passed to him. Once it was lit and inbetween my lips, I found myself shrugging a shoulder, and looking away from Finn to process his question. Was I going to ask? I hadn't originally intended to ask him about his time away, I was going to let him come to me. It was easier, that way, and I didn't want to open a wound of my own by professing interest in something that I was so interested in, it was uncomfortable. In a softer, more intimate and familial tone I would give him words that he may not have been able to predict in his wildest dreams.

"You'll tell me what you want to, when you're ready. And if you don't tell me as much as I want to know, I'll ask questions later."

See? I'm reasonable, even if... Even if I wanted nothing more than to feel adolescent ease again and simply shake the answers out of him.