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My brother is in jail again and very likely going to prison in the next month or so. The details don't matter; suffice it to say that his own appetites and clouded judgment over so many years finally caught up with him. It's true, Mr. Young. Every junkie's like a setting sun. It's been a slow and painful descent to watch, surreal to see this quick-witted golden child become so maimed by his poor choices year after year. I rarely even catch a glimpse of the little brother that I knew and loved when we were kids. I have always readied myself for his death as much as I could, played it out in my head...the phone calls, the autopsy, the reassurances to my parents that they are not to blame. It's sounds horrible, but I'm not so sure I'm as ready for this.
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I am reading this book, Paradise by A.L. Kennedy, which I mentioned a few days ago on my lj. The main character is an alcoholic with a successful younger brother, and what you've just written is pretty much exactly what he says to/about her. He makes a secret copy of her spare key so that, if necessary, he will be the one to find her body. Those feelings must be so universal in that type of situation.
Which is an untenable one, and I'm sorry you have to go through it. And him too.