It was an early Saturday morning in the Rodriguez house hold. Lars was sleeping, as usual. His parents had gone out of town for a wedding this weekend and left him in charge of his younger brother. But, seeing as he was too tired to open his eyes, he tried to go back to sleep. He had been woken up by the phone ringing, and now his semi-conscious mind was wandering.
Ring, Ring
Ring, Ring
"Mama! Can I answer the phone?" Lars called from the living room floor. The three year old was playing with a little wooden toy car.
"Sure, Mi hijo." His mother, Sandy, currently eight months pregnant, waddled into the living room. Lars bolted for the phone.
"Rodriguez residence." He said as he had been taught.
"Hola, Mi Hijo." His father's thick accent rung in his ear.
"Hola Papi." Lars smiled widely.
"Can you put Mama on the phone, por favor?" He asked.
"Mama! Papi want's to talk to you." Lars handed the phone out to his mother.
"Gracias, Mi hijo." Sandy took the phone and held it up to her ear. "Hola, cariño. ¿Qué está pasando en el trabajo?" She spoke in Spanish to hide things from Lars. Her husband was off working and her due date was nearing.
"I have to stay here for another week." Raoul said on the other line. "Lo siento, querido."
"It's ok. My date isn't for another two weeks. I love you. Bye." Sandy hung up the phone.
"Is Papi coming home?" Lars asked as he pushed his little car around on the carpet.
"In a few more weeks, Mi hijo." Sandy carefully sat down on the couch. Then she clutched at her belly and groaned. She reached over and dialed a number quickly. "Raoul, it's time. The baby is coming now." She said quickly. As soon as she hung up, she dialed again. "I need an ambulance, I'm in labor!"
"What's wrong, Mama?" Lars asked.
"It's ok, Mi hijo." She assured, trying to relax.
After 6 hours of Lars squirming in the waiting room, he had a little brother. Maurice.
Lars was slowly drifting back into consciousness. He heard a crash downstairs, but it didn't affect him. He was falling asleep again.
Bang!
Bang!
"Hey! Don't do that!" A young Lars was throwing a tennis ball at a wall at recess. His younger brother was somewhere playing with some toy when he could hear him shouting. Lars glanced over at Maurice. There were two bigger boys throwing his toy cars on the hard cement.
"You're gonna break them!" Maurice yelled. Lars rolled his eyes. It was his fault for bringing those toys anyways. He turned back to his tennis ball, but then he heard a more enraging sound.
"Aww, you gonna go home and cry to mommy?" On of the boys asked, and if Lars listened closely, he could hear Maurice crying. He twisted on his heal and chucked the tennis ball at one of the boys. It connected with the shorter one's forehead. Lars stalked over to the other one and swung at him, hitting him in the eye. The two boys ran off to tell a teacher. Maurice was sniffling on the ground.
"Thank you, Lars." He said timidly. Lars glared down at the smaller boy. Lars had been an only child. And this boy had taken that love from him. He swooped in and taken the role of the baby from him and now their mother only ever had time for Maurice.
Lars just walked away to find his tennis ball.
Lars opened one of his eyes. It was still too early to be awake, but he was having trouble going back to sleep. He closed his eyes again and rolled over.
"Lars!"
"Lars!"
Lars was sitting in the living room. His mom was calling him from the kitchen. He sighed and got up. He saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table holding Maurice, who was crying.
"Lars, Maurice says you hit him."
"But, Mama-"
"No buts, Lars. Go to your room." Lars sighed and went up the stairs. Maurice was in second grade now, he was seven years old, he shouldn't be crying to mom. Lars, on the other hand, was ten. He slammed his door and sat on his bed. It only took a few moments until his mom walked in.
"Mi hijo, what's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing."
"Lars, I know you. I know when something's bothering you. Tell me." She sat down beside him.
"Mama, you love Maurice more than me." Lars said softly.
"Oh, Mi hijo, no. I love you both exactly the same. But, Lars, you need to be Maurice's big brother."
"I don't want to. I don't want to take care of him all the time." Lars crossed his arms. "He took my place."
"Mi hijo," Sandy put her arm around Lars, "Maurice didn't take your place. You will always be my baby boy. And Maurice loves you too, Mi Hijo. He needs you to be his big brother. He needs someone to look up to. Dinner will be ready soon, Mi Hijo." Sandy gave Lars a kiss on the forehead and left his room.
"LARS!" Lars shot up, hearing his name being called even louder than before. He jumped up and ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to see Maurice sitting on the floor, his leg gushing blood.
"What did you do?!" Lars asked.
"I-I was trying to wash the dishes, and I dropped a knife and it cut my leg open." Maurice looked up, his face shining with tears. Lars went to his side quickly and picked him up. He set him on the kitchen counter and reached beside him in the cabinet with the first aid kit. He tried to clean up the extra blood first with with a wet paper towel. "Ow! Lars! That hurts!" Maurice yelled.
"Don't think about it. Think about surfing or what ever you and your munchkin friends do." Lars said angrily, putting some peroxide on the large gash.
"Ow... Ow... Ouch!" Maurice cried.
"Maurice! I'm trying to help you." Lars said angrily, trying to wrap gauze around his leg.
"Don't yell at me!" Maurice yelled back. Lars pulled the gauze tightly and roughly. "Ow! Lars!" Maurice said angrily as more tears sprang to his eyes. Lars sighed and went back to his task at hand. He tied off the gauze.
"If I find out you're skateboarding, or surfing, or any kind of thing that could hurt your leg, I'll whomp you." Lars said.
"Whatever, Lars." Maurice sniffed and dried his face with the back of his hand. Lars grabbed the front of the younger boy's shirt roughly and pulled his fist back. Maurice looked at him, scared he was going to get hit and his eyes brimmed with left over tears. Lars sighed and lowered his fist.
"Don't scare me like that again, you twerp." Lars roughly let Maurice go. "Now clean all this up, I'll finish the dishes." Lars said. Maurice climbed off of the counter. He took some paper towels and cleaned up the blood on the floor, then handed Lars the bloody knife. Lars snatched it from him and ran it under the hot water. He washed it and dried it while Maurice threw the paper towels in the garbage can. "Twister." Lars said as he finished up the dishes.
"Hm?" Twister looked up at his brother from where he was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal.
"I'll handle the chores today, go have fun with your friends. But don't do something stupid." Lars said, putting the last of the dishes away.
"Really? Thanks Lars!" Twister excitedly hugged his older brother.
"Hey! I never said you could hug me, Maurice." Lars said, stiffening. Twister ran up the stairs to get dressed. Lars grabbed the bowl of unfinished cereal and began to wash it out. He really did hate his brother sometimes. He was a brat. But sometimes Lars felt like he should be an older brother. today was one of those days. Twister wasn't always so bad, and with how much Lars tortured him, he deserved a day off. But, Lars would make sure that Maurice did all of the chores tomorrow.

AN: So, I love Rocket Power. And I always thought that Lars was a complex character. I also always found the relationship between him and Twister interesting. So this happened. Review! Hope you enjoyed.