Sammy was always my responsibility from the moment dad put him in my arms. I was the one that quieted and comforted him when he cried. Made stupid faces to make him laugh and used words to calm him when he would have a hissy fit. Dad would supply the money but none of the emotional crap the kid needed. By the time I was 16 he was barely doing that. It led me to stealing and that time at Sonny's. Have to admit that life was good while it lasted but the whole time I was wondering if my Sam was ok. The kid was practically mine, I raised him, Sam barely knew dad, even at 12. It freaked me out to think Sam was stuck with dad who he considered almost a stranger, and who didn't care for anything but obedience.
Even now pushing thirty Sam is my responsibility. I can't not watch him, protect him, and believe in him. My job is to do all three. No matter what stupid shit Sam does I never give up on him. Yeah I have had my moment, I have said some things but in the end if I have faith in fucking anything it is in my baby brother. The demon blood, lucifer, fucking purgatory I have forgiven him for it all. There are times where I wonder what I did wrong for him to be able to lie to me so easily or how sometimes he doesn't seem to give a shit anymore. I think about how i'm only 4 years old than him and I feel like I'm his father then I get over it and just take it as my reality. Sam is the way he is, it might be my fault and it might not, and I'm just gonna have to fucking go with it all if I don't want to lose him for what would probably be the hundredth time.
P.S. I don't even know who I'm fucking talking too, just myself I guess.