My Sister Made Me Ch. 21

Author’s Note:

For the sake of clarity, Alex’s scenes all take place the Friday before both Sam and Dane’s.

My Sister Made Me

Chapter 21

Sam

Everything seemed to move in a haze around her. She could still hear the other three in the room with her talking, though she wasn’t focused on what they were saying. The revelation of what had happened earlier that evening was the only thing on her mind.

“Fuck.”

She’d thought that the words were only in her mind, but she was suddenly very aware of the fact that the conversation had ceased.

“Everything okay?” Kara asked.

Sam jolted back to the present, then turned and nodded automatically.

“You sure?”

She knew that she had to think fast and get out of there to find a place to properly freak the fuck out without worrying anyone.

“Hmm? Oh… yeah,” she said, making a show of being distracted. “I just… it’s later than I realized. I better get home.”

She stood, and felt herself answering Kara automatically, as if something inside her knew that she needed help in that moment and had simply taken over. The next conscious thought she had was sitting in her car in front of her house.

She could remember thanking Kara as Duncan and Kelly disappeared into the bathroom and could still hear the details of the conversation if she thought about it. She remembered driving home, but it was like… she wasn’t aware of it happening at the time.

She turned her car off, wondering how long she’d been sitting there with it running. Climbing out, she walked toward the house, unable to process or think about anything other than getting inside to the safety of her room.

Thankfully, no one was around when she walked through the door, nor did she see anyone on her trip up the stairs. She shut the door and locked it, then stripped down naked and climbed into bed.

Finally, under the imagined safety of her sheets and blankets, she settled in and waited for the inevitable breakdown.

And waited.

She sat up, confused. Turning, she kicked her feet off the edge of the bed and began to wonder if there was something mentally wrong with her. Had she just gone into shock and didn’t realize it?

She looked up, seeing the outline of herself in the mirror across the room. She squinted, trying to focus before finally standing and walking towards it.

She saw herself, standing naked and with a curious, almost resigned expression on her face.

Had she just had so much trauma and drama in her life that she’d grown immune to it? Was she in some sort of complete emotional breakdown?

The blonde staring back at her seemed tired, but otherwise fine.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?”

The image in the mirror didn’t respond.

“You… you know what happened. What you did…”

Again, it didn’t offer any new answers.

She frowned, confused and wondering if she’d just finally lost her mind.

“I’m just tired,” she told herself. She looked back up at the mirror again. “You had a long week and you’re just exhausted, mentally and physically.”

She began to notice how dirty she felt in that moment. Not like… naughty, or skanky, but just dirty. It was like she’d just gotten off of a double shift at work.

“Shower. Go take a shower and then you can sleep, and deal with all this other stuff later.”

That had to be it, right? Her mind and body wouldn’t let her deal with it right then because she physically couldn’t.

Right?

She turned, heading to the door of her room and unlocking it, then walking straight toward the bathroom. Shutting it behind her, she turned on the water and paused to wait for it to warm up.

She frowned, suddenly feeling filthier than she had just moments before while standing in her room. She looked down and half-expected to see her body covered in garbage and slime or possibly blood and viscera.

She didn’t though and sighed hard as she shook her head and closed her eyes. Standing there, she eventually reached in and felt the water temperature. Satisfied that it was suitably hot, she turned, stepping in and sighing as the warmth caressed her skin. Briefly facing the other direction, she started to pull the shower door closed, but paused when she caught her reflection again.

For a moment, it looked like there tears coming from her eyes. That couldn’t be right. She wasn’t crying. She reached up, feeling her cheeks and confirmed that they were wet and it wasn’t from the shower. She looked back in the mirror and saw that they were still there, falling slowly from both eyes.

She was crying!

She looked down, tears starting to flow much more freely. She felt an aching inside, humiliation, shame, embarrassment all balled up into a knot in her stomach. Covering her face once she saw the emotions in the reflection staring back, she backed up into the shower and slowly sank down to the floor.

Great sobs wracked her body, her shoulders shaking with each one. On and on, she wept. And on… and on…

But then, she simply stopped, as if she had run out of tears. Her body ached and she felt exhausted, but she’d stopped. The water she’d been standing under was freezing, though she hadn’t really noticed, at least until the crying had ceased.

Stepping out, she took a deep breath and spent a few minutes toweling off and avoiding looking at herself in the mirror. Once she was relatively dry, she dropped the towel and went to her room. Halfway there she realized that she was totally naked, though the thought barely slowed her methodically plodding.

Not bothering to shut her door, she collapsed in bed and halfheartedly covered herself with a blanket. Sleep came quickly.

***

She awoke later that evening after a monster of a nap and had to spend a few minutes getting her bearings. She couldn’t figure out what time, or even what day it was without finally checking her phone. Sliding from her bed, she looked over and saw that her door was still open. She considered closing it, but then rolled her eyes and started to go about getting dressed. What was the point of modesty? She’d…

She scowled in irritation, then shook her head. “No,” she mumbled. “No.” It would go away if she just didn’t think about it or do anything to anyone. People were just going to have to learn to leave her alone.

“Shutting the door might help with that, genius,” she said to the emptiness of her room.

Sighing, she stepped over to the dresser and grabbed the first pair of underwear she could reach, then slid them on. A nearby shirt joined the panties, and she took a look at herself in the mirror, instantly satisfied that she was sufficiently covered.

I didn’t matter if she were dressed or naked, honestly. She’d find a way to fuck everything in her life up regardless.

As she stared, she saw the haggard, exhausted look in her eyes. “Fuck you,” she told the girl in the mirror, Sam or Samantha, whoever it was. The image didn’t say anything back, it just looked at her, an image of sadness staring back. Turning, she headed for the door as her stomach started to rumble.

Downstairs, she was thankful to find that her mother was occupied in her bedroom with something, and her father was likely working. He was out somewhere and not home, and that was the important thing.

With much irritation, she angrily made herself a sandwich and hastily grabbed a soda from the fridge along with a bag of chips, then promptly disappeared back upstairs, stomping up every single step. After finishing her sandwich made out of rage and spite, she crawled back in bed and stared at the ceiling, wallowing in self-pity and self-loathing. More than once she swore at the empty room and herself, hating everything and wondering just what the fuck she was going to do to fuck her life up even more.

Still, even though she was existing on anger and irritation, she was glad that she was being left alone. Lucky for her family that they didn’t seem to be there since she’d probably try to fuck them too.

Hours passed by as she spat her seemingly endless well of fury at nothing, staring holes into the ceiling of her bedroom and wracking her mind to try and figure out what to do to fix this unfixable situation.

“I’m just going to lose my fucking mind,” she said loudly.

“Well, that sounds fun,” a voice at the door muttered. “I was thinking about something else, though.”

Sam sat up, her head whipping around to see who was there. She scowled, rolling her eyes and flopped back down.

“Well, hi to you too,” Toni said, the soft padding of her bare feet coming closer as Sam tried to ignore her. “What’s got you all pissy?”

“Leave me… the fuck… alone,” Sam snarled venomously. It was the first time she could recall ever being deliberately mean to Toni.

“No,” Toni said, curiously unfazed. “What crawled up your twat and died?”

Sam sighed but didn’t answer. Toni was relatively patient, though, and seemed determined to wait her out. After a minute or so of silence, Sam looked down at her little sister and scowled, then laid her head back down.

“Are you ‘PMSing’ or something?” Toni asked. “I mean, you got some dick the other day.”

Sam ignored her but could feel her little sister staring holes into her back.

“‘Thanks Toni!’,” Toni mocked. “You’re welcome, grump-ass! Did you enjoy fucking my boyfriend? ‘Oh, that’s right! It was your boyfriend! Thanks again Toni!’.”

Sam continued to sulk angrily, ignoring her as best she could.

“I was coming in to see if you wanted me to invite Wade over again, but I can see that you’re hell bent on being a witch, so I guess I’ll just come back when you’re done cooking fat little children, Esmerelda.”

Sam finally cracked, sighing deeply and covering her face. Tears started to flow again, and Toni fell silent.

“Sam, what’s going on with you?” Toni asked after a minute or so of silence. “Come on, I know I’m not anyone you ever confide in, but I’m your sister goddamnit!”

Sam sighed, sitting up but not looking at. How… how could she possibly even begin to explain what the hell she’d done. There just wasn’t… she couldn’t…

“It’s too soon for you to be pregnant, unless someone else got you…” Toni began. “Holy shit, you’re pregnant, aren’t you! Is it Keith’s? Am I the father? Are you having twins? OH MY GOD IT’S TRIPLETS! We’re gonna be parents you and I!”