The change is very subtle. It only happens once in a blue moon. I am sitting on the couch, his sister's head in my lap, watching television as she sleeps. I run my hand through her hair, relaxing her after a long day. He walks his friends to the door, telling them about all the homework he has to do. I smirk to myself, knowing he already did it. The door shuts and so the change begins. The muscles relax, his eyes soften, his voice is more friendly; it feels like family. He plops down on the couch, asking if we can change the channel. I tell him no, pushing him slightly off balance. He chuckles and then moves his hands in to push me back, waking up his sister. We both continue to play fight, the loud noises bringing our brothers down from their cave. Somehow, we end up as a family on the couch, one singular show we finally agreed on. The younger siblings go upstairs to bed first and I rest my head in his lap. I know he won't talk to me tomorrow,he won't acknowledge me at all. But tonight, tonight he is my brother. We are family.