I'm sorry I haven't been getting chapters out as fast as I normally do its just that some stuff is going down around my place and writing hasn't really been my top priority. Now on to our normal program.
AND CAN I SAY FOR THOSE WHO SAW THE FINAL... FOR REAL! OUT OF CHARLIE AND BOBBY AND KEVIN THEY PICK HER! COME ON ID RATHER HAVE FLIPPING MEG BACK!
Rant over.
Sam stood ridged as I jogged up to him, he stared up at me with red eyes, before he sniffed and wiped the wetness away. Standing in front of him I set my hands heavily on his shoulders, making him glare at me.
"Sam what the heck man! You can't just check out like that when ya have a bad day!" I snapped. Maybe that wasn't the best opening sentence because in a flash his hazel eyes turned cold and dull, and he took a step back, away from me.
"You don't seem to have a problem with it," He mumbled.
Memories flickered through my head, memories of my eleven year old brother standing on the porch after John picked me up at the police station. Then again when he was twelve, after I had that break down and got myself drunk and hid. I left him and this was my pay back.
I grimaced, trying not to take my brothers anger to heart. I raised the kid.. he didn't hate me?
About that time a blur with pink streaked hair brushed past me, latching on to my brother.
"Dangit Freak don't do that!" She snapped, wrapping her arms around him like a vice. Sam winced but made no move to detach himself from her. I smirked at the two love birds before turning my attention to the man standing on the porch. He had a saddened look on his face, making me wonder what went down before I got here.
"Hey Bobby," I said giving him a small smile, "Thanks for 'lookin after him."
"Boy y'all Winchesters are really something," He mumbled, giving me a smile. Over the past few years Bobby had sorta wormed his way into the second father figure position, which meant technically I had three dads? That's a story I'll be explaining to a therapist someday.
"He alright, he looked upset when I got here and Sammy don't cry over just anything," I asked. Bobby sighed deeply, before flipping his truckers cap.
"I don't know how youl boys live with so much on your shoulders, seems to me your heads would explode," He said sadly. I smirked, shrugging my shoulders.
"Didn't ya know, I'm a Winchester but I have Colt blood running through my veins, the freaking world is on my shoulders," I had to joke or else I'd blow my brains out.
Bobby frowned at me but nodded, "Better get Rocky and Bullwinkle home 'for their parents start worrying," He smiled.
I chuckled, "Sammy is getting that Moose look about him, ain't gonna be to much longer and he'll be as tall as me, if not taller," That thought scared me. Hard to believe that scrawny little smart alec I raised grew into what he did.
The car ride is silent, we dropped Gen off at school, Dean says I need to come home. So I sit here and look out the window as we drive.
Its been three years since we got placed with John and Mary, three years seems like such a long time. I remember when my life was my brothers, me Dean and Cas. I remember Dean staying up late to keep watch, making sure nobody came into our rooms at night. I remember Cas reading to me quietly, while Dean was out getting us something to eat, but that was only in the real bad homes. I remember when my tooth fell out, I was six. Dean told me about the tooth fairy and left a dollar under my pillow the next morning and I kept on believing for years. I'm not sure to this day where he got all that money but I'm glad he did it. Then there was the Easter bunny, which I regretfully must say I believed in until I was ten. I remember one Christmas when I was eight, I woke up and Dean was gone. So I freaked out and woke Cas up and together we waited for him to come back. He came back around midnight, with presents. Most of them were girl toys, we gave them to another girl in the home, but the ones that we kept stayed with us until they got to old to barley function.
I remember all this as I sit in the car silently next to my brother, who has his jaw clenched and his eyes set strait ahead. I felt bad, but sorta satisfied. His day was disrupted, well my life was disrupted. Conflicted.
Gen had been dropped off at the school, after a few forms of protest she finally got out of the car and walked up to the child prison. I got anxiety just looking at the place, that I was most likely getting detention in tomorrow. But I don't want to think about that now.
"So.. what gives," Dean says suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Gonna need more information then that," I sighed. He rolled his eyes, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles were turning white?
"I mean! What gives. Skipping school, that's mine. Bad mouthing mom and dad, mine. Fighting, again.. mine, what happened to Sammy," He asks, taking a breath and letting some of the blood flow back through his hands.
"Sammy's a freak, I want to be normal," I said tiredly. Dean scoffed.
"Normal, well guess what Sam, were not normal, and your just gonna have to get used to that!" He snaps.
Normal, what does that even mean? What do normal kids do. Do they have only two parents. Do they keep switchblades in their back packs. Do normal kids have nightmares about burning their family's alive on the ceiling. Yeah that's right the ceiling. I'm not sure when that started, but somewhere along the line of me being around five or six, and learning exactly how my mom died, I just started imagining her on the ceiling. Even though she was found in her rocking chair.
"You don't get it," I mumbled.
"Really Sam! I've spent my whole life trying to be normal, or at least make you and Cas normal, it doesn't freaking work!"
"Maybe if you could act stable once in awhile and quit getting girls knocked up we could!"
"So what its my fault! Sorry next time I get the chance to raise you again I'll make sure I'm not holding you back? I'll make sure you don't have me dragging you down? Make sure you write me a letter from that normal little foster home, while I'm living with Max," He yelled, we both knew we were hitting low blows. But if you ask me thirteen years of pent up rage had to be unleashed sooner or later.
"Great tell him I said Hi, maybe you and him can bond over screw ups," my voice was just as loud as his, the car kept on getting smaller and smaller. That little voice inside kept screaming at me, stop!
"What can I do! I'm sorry! Is it my fault because I don't know any more, I thought this was about you skipping school but me being an idiot must have missed the bigger picture."
"Would you shut up! I freaking hate you!"
Before when I was little I told you sometimes my mouth moved without me guiding it. I said things I wish I could erase from air. I look at my brother, I see nothing on his face but pain. I put it there, I caused it.
"Dean I-"
"Shut up Sam."
Silence. I hate it.
One more side note I'd just like to say I check my message box everyday and if you need someone to talk to I'm here. Its better to tell someone what your feeling instead of people finding out on their own, it makes too big of a mess and you end up more mentally drained then you were in the beginning. So if your feeling a bit screwy please I'm begging you talk to someone, if not me than someone else you trust.
#Alwayskeepfighting
