[For a moment he feels young, looking through eyes that aren't entirely his own, the curious mix of awe and affection he feels these days that most certainly isn't anywhere in the memories of before he died. He used to hate his brother, he remembers that... but never the why, any more.

He's almost certain this isn't his brother up close; for one, Thor shaves more often. But it's close enough, and comforting enough to the part of him that's still young, and he can't help the way one side of his mouth twists up into a not entirely cynical smile.]

One of them, at least. Quite possibly not the one you're looking for, however.

[He hesitates, but lifts a hand to rest lightly on the inside of one of Thor's arms, as much contact as he's really comfortable with initiating.]

What's the last you remember of your brother, Thor?