"He is gone..." he repeated, as if trying to convince himself of it. It seemed doubtful, somehow. Whoever this was wasn't gone. He wasn't gone at all.

Data slowly set about fixing his brother, hands still wavering, looking practically anguished as he did so. "I should have... tried harder. I did not want to be the only one..."

But a grim realization set in. One that he was ashamed of. It should never have been the case. How could he ever call Avon on what he'd done when he thought like this. "He was my brother, Avon. And I wanted to kill him before wanting to save him."

He needed to fix him all the way, but it was so hard...