Unforeseen

"I don't know," I responded honestly, "but whatever happens, I'm here for you, ok? Mary too. I don't know how things will turn out, but you're not alone."

She nodded and tried to smile reassuringly at me. It broke my heart. Would she see either of her parents again? Would she even have a chance to say goodbye?

We'd find out soon enough.

* * *

My mom arrived about twenty minutes later. She barely had time to tell us that Mary would be home on the next flight before the doctor came out to see us. He looked tired and grim. He was however straightforward.

"Which one of you is the next of kin?"

It took me a moment to realize that at the moment, it was me. I stood up and shook his hand.

"I'm his son and her step-son. My older sister would technically be next of kin but won't arrive for a bit."

"Well, as long as your an adult you can make the required decisions. Do you want to speak with me privately or..."

He trailed off, obviously but not directly referring to Chelsea. I looked at her. She was sad but strong. Also, I knew that any attempt to "protect" her from the truth would feel like deception to her, and right now she needed to be able to trust me.

"We can talk here," I said with more confidence than I felt. He nodded.

"Your step-mother is doing well. She got out of surgery and remains unconscious, but we're optimistic that she'll wake up. She broke her arm, leg, and several ribs. Her internal organs took a beating, but most of it is bruising, so we only to stitch her up in a few places. Her head injuries are rather mild, so we don't think she has a brain injury. We just need to observe her for now."

Chelsea sighed in relief, but her hand shot up to take mine. She knew, just as well as I did that the bad news was yet to come.

"Your father didn't make it. I don't know any better way to put it. He received catastrophic damage to his brain, and we couldn't even keep his autonomous functions going. There was nothing we could do. I'm sorry."

Mom gasped. Chelsea wobbled, just a bit. I looked down and saw her desperately trying to hold back tears. When she looked up at me, she broke. I held her and let her cry. The doctor spoke, and I answered, but I don't remember what I said.

Later, we visited Rebecca. She didn't wake up that night and was puffy and full of needles and tubes. The vibrant and youthful woman was almost completely unrecognizable. Chelsea held her hand and spoke to her for a while. Then, after I'd signed a few things and made a few necessary decisions, we left.

* * *

Thankfully the doctor didn't offer to let us see his body. I might have been okay with it, but Chelsea had been through enough.

After a brief discussion, Mom and I decided to have Chelsea stay with us for the night. Neither Rebecca nor our father had any other living family, and even if they did, none of them knew her like Mary and I did. Separating her from her family would be cruel. Soon enough we were home. It was well after midnight

Chelsea was largely silent. I led her upstairs and got her settled in Mary's room, getting her some old clothes to sleep in. She was utterly exhausted and passed out almost immediately.

I should have gone to sleep myself, but right then I felt responsible for everything. I distracted myself with the "easy" decisions, although they didn't seem that way at the time. I picked a local funeral home, chose what coffin I wanted from their website, decided on a place for the funeral. The last part was made easy already knowing where dad and Rebecca went to church. As for time, if at all possible I'd wait for Rebecca to wake up, but I wouldn't let it drag on forever either.

After that, I priced out things like flowers and burial plots at our local cemetery. I even started writing his obituary. At last, I reached a point where I was too tired to continue avoiding my real worry: Chelsea.

What would happen to her if her mom went into a coma, or worse? Who would care for her? I knew it couldn't be my mom, and Mary was out of town at college already. I knew already that she'd offer to drop out, but that didn't make sense when I could just delay starting.

I was worried, terrified if I was honest. Chelsea was mature but fragile. I knew enough about custody to understand that the state might look askance on an eighteen-year-old taking guardianship of a child, but the thought of her going into foster care filled me with a resolve that I didn't know I had.

No. There would be no foster care, no shipping Chelsea off to some convenient but heartless boarding school. I would take care of her. Mom might help and Mary definitely would, but if I had to do it on my own, that was how it would be. I would not abandon my little sister.

I was so focused on this train of thought that I wasn't even aware that it was nearly five am, and I jumped about a foot in the air when there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, Mary rushed into my arms, hugging me hard. I wasn't prepared for it. I was expecting her to call us for a ride, but she must have taken an Uber.

I held her tightly, her clean scent filling my nose. Oh fuck, not now. Not now, please. Her body pressed into mine, demanding the comfort of a loved one, and I found I needed it too. Finally, she stepped back, right before feeling my swiftly growing erection.

Her hair was longer than I'd last seen it, still dyed black. To my shame, I couldn't help but notice the thin curve of her hips through her blue jeans, the tight pinch of her waist, or the pert attention of her breasts concealed by her black sweater. I felt another pang of guilt at realizing that she wasn't wearing a bra. She was about the same height as she had been years ago, but I'd grown, so I was easily six inches taller than her now. Her eyes were red and had dark gray circles beneath them, and her mouth was drawn and tight, showing the stress and worry.

"Are you ok?"

I smiled, really smiled, for the first time in hours. Mary was already looking out for me.

"Yeah, sis, I am. It sucks, but I'm all right."

"Then why are you awake?"

She pushed past me as I closed the door, throwing her bag on the sofa. She always did know how to get right to the point.

"Because...I had a lot of thinking to do."

It was true.

"Yeah, but there's time for that tomorrow. And there's no point in you..."

She stopped as she caught sight of my open laptop and notebook. She read the list I'd made and filled in, the prices, contact information, and budgeting, how much could come from my own savings until, hopefully, reimbursed in part from our father's insurance.

"Did you do all this tonight?"

"Yeah," I said, suddenly realizing how this might look to her. I hadn't consulted Mary at all about any of it, and really she had a right to weigh in on things like the funeral. "I'm sorry. I really should have made these decisions with you and..."

"No," she said, looking at me somewhat uncertainly, "I'm fine with the decisions, TK. I just...you know you don't have to do all this on your own, right? I'm here."

"Yeah, but you're grieving too. And Chelsea's really going to need you. Probably more than me, if I'm honest. She's always been closer to you. I'm not even sure if I'm making the right decisions for her, in any case. I let her listen while the doctor told us about her mom and...and that dad was dead."

"Chelsea isn't closer to me. We just have a different relationship. And you know how she is. She needed to hear it at the same time as you. If she hadn't, she'd have thought that you were coddling her, and she can't stand that. Especially not from the brother she looks up to so much."

I felt the weight of responsibility again, sinking down. Mary saw my eyes cloud over and hugged me back. This time there was no hope for me. I was tired and sad and more in need of human contact than at any time I could think of, especially from a woman. She had to have felt my cock harden and push into her belly. I'm sure that she did.

Mary jerked back suddenly as if she'd been bitten. Oh god, not now. We'd danced around this, avoided it, pretended that there was nothing. But she couldn't ignore that.

"Oh, fuck, Mary. Look, I'm..."

She pressed a finger to my lips, her expression completely unreadable. Internally, I was panicked and afraid that my traitor body had pushed her away. I knew that she'd turn around and go upstairs and pretend that it didn't happen.

Instead, she leaned in, and for the second time in my life, kissed me full on the lips. It was slow, not fast. I could have said something or side-stepped it, or held my hand out. I knew from prior experience what was coming as soon as she started moving. God help, me, I stood my ground, met her lips with mine, and pulled my sister's tight body into mine, crushing her against my chest, feeling her nipples stiffen against me.

We stood there next to the front door and made out like there was no tomorrow. I felt all the comfort that such affection can provide, and a resurgence of all the feelings and desires that I had for my sister. There would be no repressing this, not after a kiss like that.

Eventually, Mary pushed away, licking her lips as if unable to get enough of my taste. Her eyes widened, and a small, tense frown appeared on her face.

"Oh...oh god. TK, I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. Shit, yes I do. I know I'm sick. I just...love you so much. You're hurting, and I want to comfort you but not...not like a sister would."

She grew quiet as she said the last words, as though all the air had gone out of her. Both of us understood what she meant. I wanted that kiss as much as she did, although I would never have initiated it. I was tired, washed out, and confused. I saw that she was watching me with growing fear. I couldn't allow that.

"Mary, I fucking love you, ok? And I loved kissing you. I don't really give a shit if someone else thinks its wrong. You're the kindest woman in the world, and you're not sick. I just...I needed that really badly."

Her small, sad smile returned, and she looked around, suddenly realizing that despite the lateness of the hour, she'd been making out with her brother in the open. Then she returned her attention to me again.

"You haven't slept at all, have you?"

"I'm not sure I can. I'm so fucked up about this and...Chelsea needs me tomorrow. I'll just have to deal with it."

"No, you need sleep. I'll be here for her this morning, and I can make the calls that you were going to. You've written down all the numbers and everything."

The idea of rest sounded beautiful. I needed it too, but I knew that it wouldn't come.

"I...I guess. But I honestly think I'm just going to end up staring at the ceiling for a few hours."

She looked at me and bit her lip. She held out her hand.

"Come on," she said.

I took her hand, and she led me upstairs, to my room. Despite what had just happened this felt just like the elder sister who had cared for me when I was sick, or sad. The one who knew just how to comfort me when I was confused or angry. The one who would never abandon me, and who I knew loved me more than she should.

She led me through the door to my room and guided me gently in. I expected her to leave, but she didn't. Instead, she shut the door behind her, which clicked with an air of finality. I wasn't aware of what was going on, but I didn't say anything.

"You need sleep, and you need to relax. You can't carry this by yourself. You're strong and I...I love you for it, but you need help. Will you let me help you tonight?"

I nodded, grateful if confused. Mary smiled, both caring and a little...eager?

"Ok, take off your jeans and lay down, all right?"

I took off my shoes and pants and lay down on the top of my sheets.

"Good boy," she said, and her voice had a new tone, one that I wasn't familiar with. It made my cock harden fast, and my breath quicken. "Can you close your eyes for me?"

I did as instructed, and said nothing.

"I...really want to do this for you. I wanted to years ago when Charly dumped you and every time I saw you sad or alone. I wanted to be more for you, but...I knew it was wrong. Tonight, though...it doesn't have to be more than a moment of love between a brother and sister. No one has to know. And you can pretend its someone else, ok?"

Her voice faltered a little at the end, and I wondered if she was trying to deceive herself or me. She did not want me to imagine it was anyone but her.

I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt her small, warm hand on the outside of my boxers. I opened my mouth to ask her, but all that came out was a groan as she moved her hand up and down.

"That's right...let me take care of you."

I gripped the covers on my bed tightly as I surged to hardness under her ministrations. I heard her hum with satisfaction as I filled her grip. Then she gently tugged my boxers down, and I lifted my hips to let her. I was afraid then. Afraid that I might repulse her, or worse, be somehow not up to her expectations. Her reaction let me know that I did not have to worry.

"Fuck, it's nice," she said, under her breath. I smiled at her spontaneous exclamation before I moaned again as her hand touched me again, this time skin to skin. I felt myself lose control of my body, my hips bucked up into her grip as she moved up and down, slowly, and tortuously lightly. I wanted her to grip me tightly, to hurt me even. I would take any punishment as long as she jerked me off until I came.

I was breathing hard, making grunts and exhalations when she stopped. I moaned, almost whimpered, in need.

"It's ok," she cooed, "I'm here. I'm going to take care of you tonight...and...as much as you want..."

Then I felt her hand on the base of my cock again, but she left it frustratingly still. I could almost feel her tension building as if she was building up the courage to do something. We'd already crossed so many lines. What could be stopping her?

Then I felt her warm, tight, lips wrap themselves around the head of my cock and I almost lost my mind. She moved up and down immediately, giving me no time to adapt or process what she was doing. I was falling. That was what it felt like, falling. No rope to hold on to or net to save me. I think this was when my already inappropriate feelings towards her surged into full, real love, and I realized that I'd never, ever, felt anything like it before. And still, her wet warmth surrounded me.

She brought her mouth down, suddenly, burying me in her throat. I groaned. She worked me faster and used her hand on the bottom part of my cock. I thought about how well she did this and was jealous, truly jealous, of anyone who had been serviced by her. How dare they touch what was mine? I knew that she was her own person and that my thoughts were misguided and sick but I needed her so badly, and I suddenly needed her to be *mine* and mine alone.

I began to buck up and down. I wanted to touch Mary's hair, to tell her how much I loved her, but I was afraid that if I did, I would grab her head and fuck her mouth. I didn't want to take from her, not tonight when she was so giving. Her tongue began to move and swirl, and she sped up, this time not building me up quickly. I opened my mouth to tell her that I was about to cum, but she knew it.

I exploded, my seed filling her mouth and throat. I heard her gag a bit, and I felt guilty, but I kept pumping stream after stream until I was empty. I heard her sucking and licking and felt my body go limp. Then I heard her swallow the last of me, and I felt like that was the most erotic noise I had ever experienced.

"There...is that better?"

There was a brittle tone to Mary's voice. She was nervous. About what, that I'd have second thoughts? If anything, I imagined how I wanted to make *her* feel good in the future. I opened my eyes and looked into hers. I pushed a strand of loose black hair behind her ear.

"Mary...thank you. I love you."

"You don't need to thank me...I just wanted to...to make you feel a little better, ok? It...it doesn't have to be more...unless..."

"I fucking need you, Mary," I said with a force that shocked even me. Her eyes grew a little wider. "I need you, and I love you, and not just like a sister. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I want you to be mine."

She nodded, the faintest hint of a tear at the corner of her eye. I suddenly felt the weight of my exhaustion bearing down on me. She kissed me gently. It could have even been described as chaste if it hadn't been on my lips.

"Sleep well, TK. Let me handle the morning, and we'll get through this together, ok?"

I was asleep before she closed the door behind her.

* * *

The next week went as well as could be expected, I suppose.

The following morning wasn't awkward between Mary and I. We locked eyes several times and touched each other reassuringly throughout the days ahead, but we didn't act on anything. It's as though we had a new secret line of communication between us, and we knew that we had to take care of some things before we could take care of each other.

Chelsea was a wreck, and we spent as much time with her as she would allow. Sometimes we talked to her, other times we just watched movies. We both held her a lot while she cried. We took her to see her mother in the hospital as much as she wanted. Chelsea would hold her hand and tell her mundane things and even gossip. It was hard on her, but I also think it was good for both of them.

The doctors advised us not to wait for Rebecca to have the funeral. They were optimistic, but they also told us that it could be a month or more before she woke up and that there would be a lot of recovery time after that before she left the hospital.

Chelsea was the one to suggest that we have the funeral and burial and then have a wake when her mom woke up. When not if. Mary and I agreed immediately.

The funeral was small but lovely. There were few family members, but a surprisingly large number of friends. The service was held in a small sub-chapel within the church he attended. We buried our father under gray skies and cold drizzle. I squeezed Chelsea's hand as he went down into the earth.

Chelsea wanted to spend the next day with her friends, and I agreed that it was a good idea for her to get out a bit. I think that was why mom thought it was the right time to bring up "what to do" with her. She was wrong.

Mary and I were seated at the kitchen table, in amicable silence. I was going through Dad's finances and finding the way to pay off Rebecca's hospital bills while Mary took on the unfortunate tasks of calling in his life insurance. We'd kept busy with jobs like this, but with Chelsea out of the house, it was only a matter of time before we picked up where we had left off. Her smoldering looks and soft sighs as she walked past me were proof enough of that.

Mom had been on her best behavior and had made a point of being present for both of us as well as drinking very little. I was skeptical if that would continue and unfortunately, she proved my concerns valid.

"I'll call the state foster care tomorrow," she said, walking in with a full glass of red wine in her hand. Mary looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Why would you call them?"

I had asked the question, but not in good faith. I had hoped that my cold tone would warn her from continuing this line of thought, but she either wasn't aware of it or did not care.

"Because Chelsea needs to be with people that can...properly care for her," Mom answered.

Mary spoke before I could, her eyes narrowed.

"You can't be serious. Chelsea just lost her father...and maybe her mother. She can't go live with strangers! Not when we can help."

"I don't have time to devote to caring for another of that man's children, and you have to go back to college. She's going into foster care until Rebecca wakes up and that's final."