David Shaw walks into the hospital room and takes a seat next to the bed. He does this nearly every day, right around lunchtime.
He looks at his younger brother, Eric, tubes snaking across his arms, machines beeping and whirring. Eric does not look like Eric anymore, his skin darkened, scars deepened, features altered. They both know this but never mention it.
They talk about movies, or random memories from their childhood when they were often inseparable, riding bikes, playing video games and challenging each other to one-on-one basketball. They avoid talking about why David comes as often as he does to visit, though they know the reason.