"Had," he corrects softly, lowering his eyes. "Had a brother. They were both killed a couple years ago." A fresh wave of pain courses through him just as it always does when he speaks the words aloud, not that he blame Corinne for that. He's eager to change the subject, though, so he latches on to the discussion of Raleigh as a starting point.

"She's..." He trails off, unsure of how to answer, of how much information is too much between the nightmares and the panic attacks. "She's doing as well as can be expected, I suppose." He pauses, flexing the fingers on his left hand before shoving it in his pocket and trying to be subtle about the way he takes in a deep breath. "About a month ago, I-- Something happened to me, something similar to what-- what you both went through." He lets out humorless laugh, shaking his head because it still feels so unreal that it could have happened to him after everything he'd already been through with the loss of his mother and brother.

"I was kidnapped, too. Different circumstances, of course, but he attacked me in my home." He brings his free hand up to absently rub at his temple where Mark had smashed the glass against his face and flinches. "He broke three of my fingers." His hand travels down so his fingertips brush against his throat as the far too vivid memory of Mark wrapping his hand around Spencer's throat replays in his mind. He lets his hand fall back to his side before he wets his lips and glances up at Corinne. "He would have killed me if my boyfriend hadn't-- Anyway, the point is, she needed to know she's not alone. I'm sure you know that you're not, either. Nightmares, panic attacks, flashbacks, I have them all but it gets easier. It gets better but not when you're alone."