A/N: Just a quick, short drabble that ran through my head.

Looking at Toby, the newest member of our family, I could see the small stubbles of blonde hair on his tiny, pink head. All six of us - my mom, dad, Charlie, PJ, Teddy, and I - were staring at him in awe and amazement. Well, at least the others were; I was too busy noticing his hair. I had to swallow my disappointment when I noticed they were blonde, not brown like I'd been hoping.

It was stupid, I know, to feel upset over something like that. But I looked at being the only brunette a sign that maybe I really didn't belong with this family. I grew up wondering why I had brown hair, when the rest of my family was blonde. It was always just a nagging thought in the back of my mind, but there were some moments, like now, when it spoke, loud and clear.

When I was really little, I didn't give it much notice. Of course I'd observed the difference, but I didn't think it meant anything. I grew up feeling as all kids should; happy, loved, safe. But as I grew older, kids I hung out with were curious as to why I looked so different from everyone else in my family. The questions were usually asked if they came to my house to hang out, and sometimes, they even asked my parents. It was innocent curiosity, but it made me feel uncomfortable after a while, especially by how bothered my parents seemed when asked. When we went on vacation, and people took our pictures for us, I could see their questioning glances as they looked my way. I always stuck out in the family portraits; brown in a sea of blondes.

But when I turned ten, my mom announced she was pregnant, and I felt immediate anger and frustration burst inside of me. I didn't feel wanted anymore. I didn't feel like the baby of the family, the one who needed the most attention. As soon as she said it, I began to wonder if my parents thought of me as some mistake. Maybe they were embarrassed that I was their son, or that I had brown hair.

I looked around at my family, my mother and father who were smiling, with tears in their eyes - I scoffed when I saw my dad crying - and how thrilled Teddy and PJ looked at the announcement.

"Another one?" I snapped, as I shot up from the couch, and, I stomped upstairs to my room without waiting for a reply.

The next few months was all about the new baby - Charlie. And I kept trying to get used to the idea of being just another middle child, like Teddy; forgotten, in the background. But I just couldn't. I began lashing out and rebelling; getting in lots of trouble at school, pranking Mrs. Dabney, making fun of my parents, and especially my siblings. It was the best way, I soon realized, to keep my emotions in check.

I knew I shouldn't have felt that awful. I knew I should've been happy and supportive.

But it was kind of hard, when I felt different from my family, like an outsider.

I hated being the only brown-haired person in a family of blondes.

I sighed, dragging myself out of my thoughts, glancing down at the tiny bundle in my mom's arms again. I was thirteen now, so I didn't feel the same amount of anger and resentment I'd felt when Charlie was coming. But it still made me sad to see that even Toby looked like a part of the Duncans.

I quickly got up the couch and headed to the kitchen. I sat at the table after my grabbing my tuna sandwich from the fridge. I unwrapped the plastic wrap, and just as I took a bite, Teddy walked in. She sat next to me, and stared at me, in which I then stared back. We had a staring contest for five minutes, while I chewed my sandwich. Finally, I broke.

"What?"

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I see the way you look at Toby, Gabe. I have eyes."

I shrugged. "So?"

"It's the same way you used to look at Charlie."

I shrugged again, taking another bite of my sandwich, my eyes avoiding Teddy's.

"You're not being replaced, Gabe. Mom and Dad - "

"It has nothing to do with being replaced," I interrupted. "Or forgotten, or whatever."

"Then what is it?"

"I just..." I hesitated, suddenly feeling awkward. I'd never actually told anyone I felt this way before. "I feel...sometimes, I feel different. Like, not like a part of this family. And seeing Toby..."

Teddy looked shocked. "Why would you think that? You're one of us, kid, whether you like it, or not." She ruffled my hair.

"It's going to sound stupid, but...it's the hair. I'm the only brown-haired person in this family."

"So?"

"I just feel like...like it's symbolic, somehow. That I am different."

Teddy laughed. "Gabe, ignore your hair. Do you realize you're more like Mom than I ever will be? You both know how to be tricky to get what you want...And you eat like Dad. Sometimes I feel different, too. I'm not crazy like you guys. I'm the only normal one in the family. Looks can be deceiving."

I let out a small chuckle. "I guess you're right."

Teddy smiled. "You know Mom and Dad gave the baby the name you picked for him? That's gotta count for something." And with that, she stood up, patted my hand, and walked out. I heard her laugh loudly.

"Gabe!" PJ shouted. "Look at what Toby just did to Mom!"

I had been secretly smiling at what Teddy had just said, and I grinned when I came over to where Mom and Dad were sitting with Toby, seeing the puke in Mom's hair.

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