It has always been us, hand in hand, close enough in age to always get lumped together but yet still close to Dav and Troy. It was an odd grouping, the ages of us all, it seemed like we all came in small batches with all of the sons on the younger spectrum and our sisters scattered throughout. It seemed that our father could at least produce some sons, but it never seemed to matter much. I had always felt the need to be around Ellie or Dav, it was like I was drawn in by their presence even more so then the comforts of a mother. A mother I didn't have but had willingly taken Callie as a substitute for scraped knees or a broken ego. She had never lied to me that I was never Lilla's own, I could tell it in the color of my eyes and the shape of my face but they had never treated me as an outcast. My blood was theirs and they never questioned it.

But going away had made Ellie question me and that hurt worst of all. I know it was something that I had needed to do, a quest of my journey to growing up. The answers to how and why and who were never answered. I just came back with more questions and fewer answers. But the one thing I hated to see was the look of abandonment on my sister's face, before I left Dav had warned me it might happen. But I had written it off, thinking I knew better than he did. Isn't that what all younger brothers achieve? The right to think they are right, even when they aren't. That was me. It wasn't something I wished to repeat any time soon.

Ellie in my arms was enough to banish any and all thoughts of the reason why I left. Her warmth and cheerful nature did it's job, I am still wondering how she was so good and radiant. I wondered if I was the same or if I was just as messed up as I thought I was. I was able to keep us upright if only to stumble back a little bit when her weight hit me. I dropped her on the couch and plopped down next to her commenting on her usage of the pots and pans that littered the countertops.

In truth; I was starving. No...not starving, I knew what that felt like. But after years of living in the States I was in a place to say that in the general sense. The memories were almost fading; I had been young enough to where the memory of no food was just a memory now. I had relived it when I went to Virginia but it was never as bad as it was back home.

I saw the darkness enter her eyes, it was the same one that always entered mine, I knew it intimately. She closes her eyes to try and hide from me, but I know her just as I know myself. "That could be it, I'm trying to channel your ability to me, even just a bit of it," I couldn't cook, that was well known among my entire family. Ask me to fillet a freshly caught fish and cook it over a fire? I was your man, but actual pots and pans and stoves. No thanks.

I laugh at her next set of words, "I was trying to be subtle. It didn't work, you know me too well." Of course she would, I could eat a whole cow and still go looking for more.

"I can even hang those pictures for you," I point over my shoulder at the ones of us. If there was one thing I knew how to do it was to wield a hammer and nails and tools in general. Just call me the handy man.