Dragging a hand down the side of his face, he made a soft noise -- almost a groan, more like a sigh -- and he considered the bottle of whiskey before looking back at Deirdre. "Two young siblings, actually. Sister and brother." Then he laughed again, the sound a hollow bark. "I thought my brother was Peter Pan and I tried to kill him." His voice got thick then, and he ducked his head, rubbing his face once more. "No wonder my brother hates me."