::fragments::

I saw my (half) brother in a tuxedo that had a crimson/burgundy tie and bows and ribbons on it.

I remember having multiple episodes of having to save a little blonde girl. She was about 2 or 3 years old, and she seemed to be mine--my daughter, I think. In one episode, I walked up to my car, in a hurry to get away from whomever was after us, and realized all my windows had been smashed out, and I hurriedly opened the backseat door and brushed as much glass as I could from the seat to lay the little girl on it safely. She was upset and crying most of the time, especially when I had to leave her or just be out of her eyesight. I tried to explain that we were in a hurry and it would all be okay soon, and I ran around the other side of the truck, fumbling with my keys. There were several instances like this: someone was chasing us and we were on the run. It was my duty to keep her safe.