Opposites
All through their lives, their lives has been complicated. Complicated, and very different from the rest…
But their lives were also different from each other's, even though they grew up in the same '67 Chevy.
This is going to be a list of short stories about what made their lives different from each other…
~Riding a bike~
SAM:
Green eyes followed the six-year-old as he once again attempted to get his balance on the bike. They had been out there for hours… Trying, failing, trying again…
Failing a bit better…
By now, Sammy's right elbow was a mess of blood and dirt. His knees were matching… But he WANTED to ride his bike, and Dean was teaching him… And comforting him each and every time the ground decided to bite him…
"You're doing good, Sammy!" Dean cheered when his brother managed to make it seven whole yards before tipping over.
This time he had landed on a patch of soft grass, almost comfortable to fall on.
"No, Dean… I just crash!" he was visibly annoyed with his own shortcomings.
"But you'll get it! I bet you'll be the first one in your class to ride a bike!"
"Jake can already ride…"
"But you'll beat him to the wheelie!"
The confidence in Dean's voice made Sammy smile once again, if his brother could be this sure… It had to be right.
SPN
Half an hour later, Sammy cracked the code. When he finally managed a whole round around the parking of the camping site they stayed at, Dean was ready to congratulate him with a big, big-brother hug.
"See! You did great Sammy!"
(Two weeks later, Sammy did beat Jake Connors in the race to first doing a wheelie…)
SPNSPNSPN
DEAN:
Dad were passed out on the couch, he smelled like that stuff again… The stuff that made him a little weird…
Sammy was napping, because… Well, eighteen months old children tend to get a bit cranky if they don't… Dean knew that by now…
They were living in a house without electricity at the moment. Dean didn't know why it didn't have any, but dad said that it was just for the time being… It would pass…
They ate bread for the most part… Bread and whatever was cheapest at the local grocery store. Which had to be cheese spread, the darkest kind… When he grew up, he would never have to put that thing in his mouth again…
Sometimes, dad cooked some hot food on top of a gas canister, he had told Dean several times not to touch that until he was older, so when Dad was away… He and Sammy had to eat the bread and the cheese spread…
He picked up his bike again… He had been out there since the sun stood on top of the sky, now it was barely above the treetops in the far west corner of the sky.
He was, however, starting to get the hang of it… The second hand bicycle (more like fifth-hand) was starting to do the things he wanted it to, instead of just toppling over.
Sure, he had some war wounds… But the last time he cried in front of dad, when he smelled like this… He had got a bruised backside to go along with his other owwies… So he tried to keep his volume to a minimum…
Besides, wounds healed…
Outside the ramshackle house they squatted in, on an old red dirt road... On a bike had he had found in a dumpster and after a lot of pleading, his dad had put it in the trunk of their car… Dean learned how to ride…
No one cheered for him, no one kissed his owwies away…
But he did learn to ride a bike!
I hope you enjoyed this.