There was a box of tissues sitting on a tray table pushed up against window nearby so Sam reached over to grab it. He put his arm around his twin and rubbed his shoulder to comfort him, setting the box of tissues on his lap. "Hey, come on now. You're not letting me down, Sparky. We've all got to have each other's back with all of this because none of it is easy. There's no way I expect you to just hold up and take the burden of it all. I know that's where you automatically think you need to be but it's not. We're a family. We're going to get through this as a family. I know you're here for me. There's nothing you can do to expedite my treatment or soften the blow. It is what it is. I'll get it done. It's all I can do." He waited to give Mark some time to sit and cry if he needed to or regain his composure. "I know you know I need to ask this, mate, and I'm sorry. Is drinking the only urges you've got or is there suicidal ideation? I know the promises you make to everyone to take care of them no matter what it takes but that doesn't make your mental illness immune to these things. I need to ask."