Thy noble self doth not own. Thou shall not sue-eth.
Sometimes I find myself just watching him. Wondering how our lives turned out this way, and how Sam manages to have as normal life as possible in spite of it. You'd think with hunting demons and spirits, stopping at towns for mere weeks, and endless hours of driving that Sam would be cynical, sarcastic, and a smooth talker- like me. But Sammy is different.
He manages to finish his homework on time, make friends, and even suck at talking to girls. Aah, Bec Kesteven…that was an amusing afternoon. But Sam is growing up. Suddenly he would rather hang with friends than practise sparring with me. Suddenly he can get moody and shut himself up for hours on end. Suddenly he can't take a joke. Okay, only sometimes though.
He still is cool sometimes- and I can see Sammy hiding in Sam. Sammy who wants to muck around and watch 1980's horror movies with me, laughing at the unrealistic special effects. Contrasting to Sam who just wants to get away from me and Dad, just wants to be normal. Yeah, I know what one I prefer.
I can still remember when he was all Sammy. All he wanted to do was to be like me, be like his big brother. I can still hear him copying everything I said, saying that when he grew up he'd be just like me. I smile sometimes when I remember that, and other times I don't.
When he hit 11 he started hanging out with his friends more; I remember Dad getting angry whenever Sam was late getting home because of it. And I remember his first soccer game. He scored so many goals that day I lost count. I was so proud of him; my little Sammy kicking A-Grade ass.
Dad never saw Sammy play. He tried to a few times, but hunting doesn't exactly give you days off or lunch breaks, so he couldn't get to them. I remember Sammy asking every game, "Do you reckon he'll be there?" I never had the heart to say I knew he wouldn't so I'd just answer, "Maybe, maybe not. He might be able to if he can finish off this hunt early". But he never did.
I remember every game, the highlights, the lowest points, and all of Sam's particularly awesome goals. He was definitely Sammy then, but I could see Sam filtering through, starting to affect him. Sam doesn't care what Dad says. Sammy always wanted to hunt with Dad and me, especially when he was little. We'd get back from a hunt, and Sammy would be chatting away, boasting slightly, smiling at me, and looking at me like I was a hero.
But then Sam started to dominate Sammy; he'd shut himself up in his room when we got back from hunts, he'd mope around when he wasn't allowed out, he'd just grunt when I asked his opinion of something. He distanced himself, and all I could see was his blind hatred for hunting, the thing he was destined for, but the one thing he'd give everything up to be rid of. Sam was taking control.
Occasionally I see only Sammy, only my little brother who I'd give everything for. But then other times I see only Sam and I have to stop myself from crying. I don't want to be weak in front of him, because even if Sam doesn't look up to me quite as much as before, I'm still his big brother, his protector, his hero. And heroes don't cry. I love my baby brother, and even if he hates me sometimes, that isn't going to change. I'll always look after him; it's my nature now.
Dad doesn't really father Sam. He tells him to do his homework, will congratulate him on a good mark and stuff like that, but he doesn't really father Sam. I do. I gave Sammy The Talk, I never forgot to ask him about his day, I helped him with homework, I let him in my bed when he had nightmares…
But now that Sammy has suddenly become Sam, I wonder whether he'll ever truly look at me like he did before. Whether he'll ever smile at me like before, whether he'll confess his crush on a girl like before. Whether he'll be my little brother again. And I hope that one day he'll be my Sammy once more.
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