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Sam was good kid.

He went to school every day. He did his homework, not always happily, but he did it. He did it well too, he had a good grade average. Sam was funny, sweet, pretty intelligent. He was a sharp dresser, he was up with the latest trend and looking his best. And, boy, he was friendly. Sam Emerson was the friendliest son of a bitch you could ever meet; everywhere he went he put people at ease and could make anyone smile.

As far as Sam was concerned, he was pretty much the ideal child.

So why he was squeezed in the middle of the sandwich of Michael and Laddie seemed like an unfit punishment.

Sam didn't mind Laddie. Really. He was…nice. He was sweet. He never really did anything to hurt Sam or bother Sam, to be frank it was just the little things that started to wear Sam down. Laddie just had this…ability to completely get under Sam's skin by doing nothing but being ignorant and smiling as he just perfected the role of the perfect little brother.

That was the thing that drove Sam right up the wall. Laddie was honing in on Sam's little brother territory, much to the annoyance of the former littlest brother. There was nothing more agonizing for Sam than watching Laddie jump on Michael's back and then when Sam tried, Michael would grunt or jerk and shrug him off, turning to Sam and saying,

"Sam, you're too big now, man."

And Sam would nod, shoot him a smile, and walk away.

Sam was a rational kid, he was smart. He knew he was getting to big to jump on Michael's back, it was natural. He was aging, growing stronger and taller. It only seemed fitting that as time wore on, he'd become to big. And he could accept that.

What he couldn't accept was the fact that Laddie could jump on Michael's back. That was his thing. That was what Sam did to Michael, not Laddie, not anyone except Sam. And Laddie just came in like he had been doing it all along, completely disregarding Michael's actual little brother and how he actually did it first.

And Laddie was a good kid, sure. He was polite and sweet towards Sam and was always up for doing something with him, but to be frank Sam wanted absolutely nothing to do with Laddie. The more time he spent with Laddie, the more that kid would steal from him or copy from him. Sam had caught onto this early, when one afternoon he noticed Laddie asking Lucy if they could go out and shop for the same jacket Sam had. The same exact jacket, which was his jacket. Not Laddie's.

And Sam had made the mistake of complaining to his mother about it.

"Sam, he looks up to you," she had replied in her perpetual sweet disposition. "He looks to you as an older brother and you should be flattered."

Well, fine. Sam should be flattered an accept the role as big brother. Good, cool, awesome-shame no one else would let him grow up around here.

The situation was always the same. Sam would come downstairs, usually chipper, and ask his mother;

"Can I go to the boardwalk?" or "Can I go into town?"

And she would always look up innocently and say, "Sure thing. When will you and Michael be back?"

To which Sam would shakily reply, looking at the ground. "I, um, I was…gonna go alone."

And Lucy's eyes turn towards him with the exasperation as she says in this condescending, mother-knows-best voice,

"Sam, you know I don't like you going into town alone."

And Sam wouldn't have cared if she ever let him do anything alone, he couldn't even stay in the house by himself with doors and windows all locked. Nope, he was always with Michael.

Michael was responsible. Michael was stronger. Michael was smarter-Sam was finding that last theory ridiculously hard to believe. Sam hadn't been the one to become involved with vampires, actually become a vampire and then not know for days that he was actually a member of the blood-sucking undead. It took Michael a trip to the beach to commit murder for him to figure it out, when Sam had known from the beginning.

But Michael never listened to Sam. He was just his dumb little brother who wasn't even allowed to act like a little brother anymore.

Michael was as annoying as Laddie. Sam was just stuck in the middle of the hero and the little loveable kid. It was beyond frustrating and almost impossible to break free from the restraints of being the dreaded middle child. They wouldn't let him be an adult, they would reprimand him for being too childish.

Sam was finding it increasingly difficult to fit into this whole new mold they'd created for their ideal family. He would have started rebelling, if that hadn't been the completely selfish jackass thing to do. Being bad wouldn't get him anywhere and he certainly wasn't qualified to be a rebel in personality traits. What would he do to stick it to them-put gum under the table? Rebelling just seemed like the quitter's way out, the easy way to get attention.

And Sam may have been many things, but he was not a quitter.