Brotherly Love Ch. 03 of 03

-present-[date=2006]

She lifted her head up, looking at me with a fear-stricken face and sobbed "But I've never been unfaithful Rob. Never! You are and always have been, the only man I have ever loved and ever had sex with in almost twenty years. This can't be true! It just cannot. The test has to be wrong Robert, it has to be!"

Yet here was scientific proof that I had not fathered my?...our?...her son?

"....... Robert, I swear to God that I would never betray you with another man......."

-flashback-[date=1997]-Charles POV-

Charles fucking an unresponsive Megan. He had to use lube on his cock to get it into her dry vagina. Only half-way in, overexcited, he ejaculated and from his premature orgasm sagged down on her unmoving body. Finally he pulled out of her and then sat back looking dumbly as his semen dripped out of her.

When he heard her moan and looked at her eyes glazed from the drug, the face of his sister-in-law Megan, his brother's wife. His brother Robert's wife! Charles scrambled backward away from his latest victim in horror at what he had just done. Falling off the bed with a loud thump and tangle of his still drink impaired limbs.

He crawled across the floor to a chair and used it to pull himself to his feet. Then braced, he stood there dumbly staring away from the bed. If he didn't look at the bed, what he had just done wasn't real and he could ignore the guilt beating at his stupefied conscience for this sordid crime.

Finally he lurched his way to the loo and took a piss. He wet a facecloth to wipe the lube and semen off his shriveled penis. Then in a drunken panic, he realized that he needed to cover up the evidence of his rape of Megan.

He staggered back to the bed. Using the cloth to wipe up the mess of lube and semen he'd left smeared across her vulva and down her bum crack to the sheet below. Trying to wipe up as much as he could see. He avoided thinking about staying to monitor her breathing.

Ignoring the possibility that the drug he slipped her could have a deleterious effect on her heart or respiration. Drunken logic claims that what you can pretend is not real, never really happened.

He tossed a blanket over her, so he did not have to look at her naked body anymore. It was difficult coordinating getting dressed. Finally he managed, the effort sobering him a little. He started crying and berating himself for what he'd done.

"You stupid fucker! You useless, evil asshole. You call yourself a man? You're just an animal! Only an animal would rape his own sister. Fucking betray your own brother. I hate you! I hate you so damn much, I think I'm about to spit blood!"

Carefully Charles made his way down the hotel hallway to the elevator. While sagging against the elevator railing he started to sob, then forced himself to be silent as he stiffly marched through the almost empty lobby out through the post-midnight darkness and into the ugly lighting of the carpark.

After wandering up and down the rows of cars, while muttering incoherent insults against himself, he finally found his sportscar. He sat in it for at least half an hour, his head against the steering wheel as he cried out loud in self-pity. His wracking guilt and his burning hatred towards himself for how badly he has fucked up his life.

After wiping his eyes and blowing his nose a couple of times on an old rag. He started up the car, slowly backed out of the slot and with drunken exactitude drove out of the carpark, down the street to the on ramp, then accelerated his way onto the Highway.

His mind was a raging mess of confused images of the women he had fucked, the women he had raped and the two women he had loved. Now the two women he hated. He failed to notice that he was continuously pressing down the accelerator and was tearing along, automatically weaving through the moderate traffic.

Soon he was going more then 150kph and tears were dimming his vision as he drove screaming his self-hatred at the world........

"It was a few days later that we learned of the death of my brother, in a collision with a removers lorry outside Oxford. Eventually, the coroners inquiry would blame Charles for being too intoxicated to safely drive."

"I suspect he was feeling guilty for betraying me, his brother. Maybe for raping you, Meg. I would hope that he was still capable of a guilty conscience! From the police reports he had been driving like a madman. He may even have deliberately chosen to die violently."

Megan shocked, sobbed "Oh God! I don't want to think of him as a suicide, Rob!"

"No more then I do Meg.....I, I try to accept the coroner's decision that it was an accident."

[date=2006]

"I think it is important to supply some the missing pieces of this puzzle. Why I eventually became suspicious about the circumstances of Byron's conception.......After Charlie's death, when I would run into someone who had known him during those last couple of years.......My bother and I were not identical twins but we shared many superficial similarities in appearance.......They would flare up in anger if they assumed that I was Charlie. It turns out that not all of his sexual conquests had been consensual. At least two women had made claims that he must have used a date-rape drug on them."

[date=2002?] - Robert's POV during second confrontation -

Accepting that my drivers license showed that I was not my younger sibling. In a bitter voice, she asked as I put my wallet away.

"I can see that you cared for your brother. I assume you did not know of his crimes?"

The look on my face, she hissed as she realized I had known something. Hastily, I blurted out as she glared her fury at me.

"Wait, No! Not how you mean! Please. Allow me to explain. I did not suspect my brother Charlie was a rapist until, oh, about two, two and a half years ago. A woman I did not recognize, who must have been another of his victims. I never even learned her name. Just as you mistook me for my brother, she accosted me over near Fleet Street."

"Without warning, this unknown woman was screaming at me in the street. It was such a shock. I didn't know how to respond. I just stood there dumbly, trying to understand why this woman, this stranger, was making such a public spectacle of herself. The only word I could clearly hear was 'Charley'. I did not comprehend the rest of her words until later and I'd had the time to think about them."

"Hearing that name, of my dead brother, why would she be yelling his name at me? I think that is what kept me rooted there and not walk away. Finally, after an endless minute of loud ranting, she just ran off and disappeared."

"I had to go and have a stiff drink. While I sitting in a nearby pub, my hands shaking in fear and anger I suppose. I tried to sort out what all she was screaming at me. Finally I realized that she thought I was my dead brother Charles and was accusing me, him! of drugging and raping her."

This second woman, still with an angry suspicious look on her face, nodded for me to continue my explanation.

"Honestly. That was the very first inclination I had that something sordid, some very bad act may have been committed by my brother. Now here you are, to confirm that whatever he did, he did more then once! I am grateful that at least you allowed me to prove my identity and didn't just assault me."

"I sincerely beg your pardon if I seem rather self-absorbed but you are the proof, the confirmation I have been dreading to hear. That the brother I loved had been a monster. This is like stepping on a long buried land-mine from a forgotten war and setting it off without any warning."

Her unresolved anger was obviously directed at me. I was the only available target of the rage she had carried for all these years. I wanted to help her to direct her hatred outward, instead of continuing to be held within to poison her life.

"The closest thing to closure I can offer you is this, that Charles died horribly. Trapped and crushed and burned alive in the wreckage of his sportscar. And he died alone, without any hope of begging forgiveness for his sins."

She silently glared at me, obviously judging the sincerity of my words. Abruptly she stood up and then walked out the Coffee Shop door and was gone. I could not decide what words of apology could suffice and I would suspect she did not want to hear such meaningless platitudes of pretentious sympathy.

I just sat there and silently cursed my brother for endowing me with such a tarnished legacy.

-present-[date=2006]

I gently hugged my wife and in little more then a whisper continued "That, my dear Meg, is my hypothesis about what happened to you that night. Charles must have spiked your wine or champagne. When you fogged out, he took advantage of the party crowd and confusion to lead you back to your hotel room. There he took advantage of you."

"He raped you and accidentally fathered Byron. The family at the party and the hotel people all assumed that he was me. Especially when I showed up that next morning without my luggage, as it had gotten delayed in transfer for some reason."

Twisting around on my lap to face me. Meg had a look of suspicious anger on her face while she demanded an answer "God damn you Robert! Why haven't you ever explained this to me? Fucking Hell, I am the boy's mother. I do have an interest in the conception of my own children!"

Good thing I was holding tightly onto her hands or in her frustration, she would probably have lashed out at me.

I can't remember the last time Meg was angry enough to use obscenities or strike at me except in playfulness.

In a strained voice I patiently tried to explain "I am not Sherlock Bloody Holmes, darling! There was no 'Ah hah!' moment."

"It took years for me to accumulate enough information. Too Begin to theorize about those last days of my brother. I could see no good reason to expose this as a scandal or to make you feel bad Meg. You were not responsible for what Charlie did to your unconscious body."

"Neither is Byron. He IS our son. You and I have raised Byron to be Our son. I am more then reconciled to thinking, to feeling, to loving Byron as Our son. My son!"

Her face contorted to ream me out for not trusting her with this bitter fruit of knowledge. It tugged at my heart and roiled my stomach to see the tears roll down her flushed cheeks.

With an anguished tone I blurted out "I loved my brother! Do you have any idea how much this realization stabs me in the heart. Charley was a Rapist! That my younger brother had raped You. My Wife! The woman I love! How this is been tearing me apart, inside?"

She tenderly caressed my face, with tears in her eyes, mutely projecting her sympathy for my pain. Wiping away at the tears streaming down my cheeks. Letting me know that she shares my grief at the murder of my idealized image of the perfect brother.

Finally I wiped my eyes and blew my nose and better composed, continued "I only had suspicions and accusations but no physical proof. That is why the authorities could not charge him for battery or rape. He must have been cautious enough to use condoms with his previous victims. Also careful not to leave bruises or other physical marks or allow witnesses. When he was investigated he claimed the women consented and the police couldn't prove otherwise."

The Doctor interjected.

"There are several different rape drugs available on the black market. A couple of them leave almost no trace behind if manufactured illegally. For that reason, legitimate manufacturers are required to include tracers in their product, to assist investigators. They are all dangerous for causing impaired respiratory functions to the victims. There have been a number of deaths attributed to the abuse of these drugs by callous men."

I silently thanked God for protecting my Megan from my younger brother's criminal stupidity. Then I went on "Consider that reliable DNA testing, refined enough to distinguish between brothers has only become available within the last few years. Doctor, isn't it true that Byron and I are genetically close enough, that in an emergency, we do not have to be concerned about blood transfusions or organ donations?"

Dr. Khurahasan looked briefly at the charts before responding "That is true. You and...Your son, are compatible in case of an emergency. I do not see a reason for further concern or to disturb your family relationship."

I think he was trying to reassure us when he leaned forward and gravely said "I apologize that this family scandal was revealed in this manner. Of course all the rules of Doctor - Patient confidentiality apply."

We nodded, thankful that we could limit who learns of this delicate and potentially family rivening scandal. With a voice heavy with shared pain, he continued "But realize. From my seat. For all the personal pain this revelation is causing you. I have seen worse. Much, much worse that has happened to some of my other clients. Much of that, undeserved catastrophes for good people to have to endure. You have been blessed with four, uhmm five, healthy children."

As we pondered how much worse this could have been for our marriage, our family, I could feel tremors of silent sobs through Meg, as she cuddled with me. I did not want to admit it then, how relieved I was to learn the truth of those ugly suspicions and finally able to share the burden of guilt I have carried these last few years.

I was silently cursing my brother in my head.

Damn You Charley! Even years after your death your malice resonates into our lives! And those other poor women you raped, they will never have justice. They will always carry the pain you viciously inflicted, as scars on their souls. Innocent, collateral victims of your hatred for Laura and Yvonne.

Then I remembered something I read once.

Hate is a poison.
When you inflict it on others,
you take an equal dose of the venom
into your own soul.

Finally, I screwed up my courage to reveal the second reason for my inexplicable equanimity towards my brother's criminal behavior. As I talked, Megan looked at me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. What good? How could any good? Possibly have come from such a despicable crime?

"Meg, now consider my other reason for accepting this fait accompli. Eliza, Joanne, Melody, and Kerry. Four girls by two women, all four definitely sired by me. One boy, Byron, now certainly proven to have been sired by my brother."

The look on her lovely face went from thoughtful to comprehension of the important point I was trying to make. I briefly glanced towards Dr. Khurahasan "Doctor, is it not the father's sperm that determines the sex of the child?"

He nodded and asked if I've been tested for motility of my XY sperm.

"No, but it seems obvious that my best swimmers are XX female. Were XX, it's a moot point since my vasectomy. That is not important to me. I love Byron. As My Son! Just as much as I love each and all of my four daughters."

Gathering Megan into my embrace, in a heavy but soft voice I declaimed "Thus the brother, who I did love.......He, Charles........through a despicable act of treachery against you, Megan..........accidentally produced the child He had despaired for."

"Let us have the charity and grace to permit Charlie to rest in peace."

"I am reconciled to this outcome."

After we left Dr. Khurahasan's office, we had an hour till we needed to pick up Kerry from the Town daycare-kindergarten. Megan suggested we stop at the Foxhound. I agreed that I could sure use a good stiff drink to calm my shattered nerves.

Meg was right, that at this time of day, there were only three or four other customers. I collected a couple of gin and tonics from the barman and followed Megan to a back booth. With several intervening empty booths between us and the nearest other patron.

I took a good swallow and allowed the warmth of the gin to work its way through me. Meg, as her usual practice, just lightly sipped at her drink and then pretty much abandoned it.

Finally, I broke the not-so-comfortable silence between us with "Megan darling. Please do not doubt my unwavering love, my complete faith in you. My devotion for you! This information changes nothing between us, of our feelings for one another, of our love for one another."

Her eyes welled up with tears, I gave her a moment to dab them up with a tissue, then I continued "Byron Robertson will carry on the family name. He is turning out to be a fine young man. We can both be proud of the boy we have raised and his accomplishments in school. I do NOT believe that genetics is destiny. I DO believe that Byron will turn out to be a better man then his biological father."

I hesitated then plunged on "My only remaining concern is how to explain this mess to Byron. As his mother, do you believe that he is yet mature enough to understand such matters?"

Megan looked as if she was about to start bawling but she choked down her fears and asked "Byron is only eight years old, Robert. Should he be burdened with this knowledge? He is an intelligent lad but he is also a sensitive boy. This knowledge will have to trouble him. It must have some effect upon his relationship with the both of us. With each of us!"

I had to reply "Yes, I agree. But, consider a possible worst-case alternative. Byron somehow, eventually discovering about his biological father, on his own, without our guidance. That would definitely damage his trust in us. Besides, Charley Was his biological father and Once had some great qualities that I want to tell Byron about. That the good parts of my brother will live on through his son. His And My Son!"

I stopped for a moment to take another swallow of my g&t and remembered another important point "There is a similarity? A parallel? In our present situation, to the ethical dilemma of the subterfuge when Deborah and Penelope used me to get them pregnant with Eliza. It was the two women's mothers who had to intervene. Insisting, that as the biological father, I have a right and a duty to know my child. In the modern, not the biblical sense!"

Her face flashing anger, Meg reprimanded me with "Robert! This is not the time for stupid jokes! And that one is particularly disgusting!"

"Sorry my dear, you are right. Anyway, uhmhmm. Deb and Penny claimed the reason they chose me to father their daughter was because of my mature behavior and genteel attitude."

She snorted "Not after that vulgarity!"

Megan took one last sip of her drink, wrinkling her nose and setting it down with a look of distaste as I went on "Their mothers both replied. That they should then trust my maturity and gentility to do right by them and the child, for the benefit of the child. I believe that I have fulfilled that trust." She nodded agreement.

Reaching across the table, Megan ran her hand softly along my cheek, interjecting "Dear man, Eliza often brags of you as her father, you know."

I couldn't decide if I should blush in humility or beam with pride. So I guess I just looked like I was constipated when I said "Ahmm, very generous of her. She is a sweetheart."

Megan nervously shuffled her glass from hand to hand then, trying to pick the right words "The difference is that you were an adult, almost an adult. Byron is still a boy, a child. Coming to terms with this news could be disturbing for him."

I tried to offer possible solutions to this potentially explosive family quandary "Byron is smart enough I think, to understand about Charles being his biological father. I am not concerned that a measure of honesty would threaten the close relationship between Byron and myself, as the father who raised him. I have faith in his good sense and the strength of our emotional bond."