19 comments/  175403 views/  79 favorites

Brett and Elizabeth Ch. 01

By: chargergirl



My thanks to Mused, for all his help on this.

The rain drove hard into the windshield, so hard the wipers could barely keep up. Swish-swish, swish-swish, a mind numbing noise. Brett cranked up the Goo Goo Dolls' "Name" in an attempt to drown out the sound. A miserable mid-November evening, it was only seven, yet as black out as midnight. The street lights cast eerie shadows down around everything and in the distance, off to the West, lightning flashed; the first sign of an impending storm.

Brett turned on to his street where he'd lived for the last six months after moving out of his parents' place. His Mother had been sad to see her only son leave the nest. His Father, on the other hand, well, maybe less so. From sports, friends, schools, and jobs, they'd never been able to see eye to eye. No, his Father hadn't minded at all.

Then, there was Elizabeth. Four years his junior and his only sister, she'd turned 18 last July. In the back of his mind he could still see her sitting in the grass on the front lawn of their parents' house as he packed up the last of his things. He'd been so relieved at the prospect of moving out on his own, he'd almost missed the sad look she cast in his direction as he bade his farewell.

"Hey, Sprite, come say goodbye."

"Do I have to?" Elizabeth protested, secretly hoping that maybe if she refused to say goodbye, that somehow it would keep him there. She hated that he was leaving, though he was only moving three miles away. Just knowing he wouldn't be down the hall from her made her feel so empty inside.

She stood slowly and meandered over to him. Brett called her Sprite for a reason. At barely five feet, she stood a full foot plus three inches below him. While he had kept growing and growing through high school, Elizabeth had come to a screeching halt as soon as she'd hit puberty at the age of 13.

"Buck up, little camper." Brett chucked her under the chin. "I'll not be far away. C'mon Sprite, let me see you smile."

So Elizabeth smiled for him, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"If you need me, just call and I'll be here. I can't stay any longer, Elizabeth. Dad and I, you know we don't mix; we're like oil and water."

That was an understatement if there ever was one, Elizabeth thought, though she didn't say it. She didn't mix with either parent; she'd made it through the years by laying low and not drawing attention to herself. She hated to be noticed.

Lightning flashed again, and this time Brett heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance.

He pulled up the steep drive approach, taking care to not bottom out his 1970 Dodge Charger. Fire engine red with a black roof and a 440 Six Pack, he had rebuilt himself, lovingly restoring it in his parents' garage during the first two years of college. He disliked driving it in bad weather, but had yet to pull out his winter beater. He made a mental note to call Dave that weekend.

The headlights flashed across the the front of the house, lighting it up for the briefest moment. Brett thought he saw something on the porch; he wasn't sure what, then it was plunged back into darkness. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but it looked like something huddled there on the steps. He got out of his car and ran through the cold November rain to investigate. Maybe a dog had sought refuge from the weather.

It wasn't a dog. It was his sister.

"Jesus Christ! Elizabeth!"

She turned her face up to his as the lightning flashed again. He sucked in his breath when he saw the light blue bruise on the left side of her face. Rivulets of rain mixed with tears, coursing a path down her cheeks.

"What're you doing here?" His words were drowned out by the approaching storm, though from the look in her eyes Brett doubted she would have heard him. She looked frozen from cold and fear. He didn't repeat himself, said instead, "Come on, let's get out of this mess." He fully expected her to follow him, yet when he unlocked the front door and stepped aside to let her enter, he found her still sitting on the steps.

Brett went over and hauled Elizabeth up into his arms. Through the door they went, brother and sister, dripping water everywhere. He took her straight down the hall to the bathroom.

The bright fluorescent light hurt their eyes. They blinked in unison a moment, then Brett gently set her down on the counter.

Her hands felt like ice. He figured she'd been out there a while, and her normally beautiful auburn hair hung around her in clumps. He pushed one clump away from the left side of her face and examined the bruise. Elizabeth shied away.

"I know you didn't get this by falling down, Sprite. What happened?"

Elizabeth only shook her head.

Brett noticed then her lips were blue. He needed to warm her up, fast.

"OK," he sighed. "Tell me later, then. Right now you need to get out of those clothes. Have at it," he instructed. "I'll be right back."

He went down the hall to his room and found a sweatshirt, sweatpants with a drawstring and a pair of socks, then returned to the bathroom to find his sister still sitting on the counter, still in her soaking wet clothes.

"I thought you were...never mind." He went to her and saw she was trembling, almost violently. Brett reached over, cranked on the faucets of the tub and began to draw her a warm bath. "Help me get you out of these." He pulled off her thin jacket she'd put on over her sweater, which was also sopping. He threw it all into a soggy heap on the floor. It landed with a wet squish.

He carefully lowered Elizabeth down, not letting go until he was certain she could stand and not crumple to the floor in a heap next to her clothes.

"Can you undo your jeans?" Brett asked her quietly.

Elizabeth nodded, still trembling. She tried to unfasten them, but her hands were too shaky, too cold, and she couldn't make them do what she wanted.

"I can't." Her voice was weak, her words mere squeaks.

"It's OK, Sprite. I'll do it."

The wet denim clung to her body and Brett had to forcibly yank them down. He lifted one foot, then the other, and tossed them in the awaiting wet heap.

Elizabeth was standing before him now nearly naked, yet Brett saw none of it. Her lovely breasts inside her bra were invisible to him, as was her pussy, clearly outlined, tucked away inside pretty pink cotton panties.

"Can you manage the rest of the way?" Brett asked her.

Elizabeth nodded.

"Get in the tub, then. I'll be back in a bit."

"OK."

Elizabeth did as she was told. She couldn't undo the hooks on her bra, so slowly she pulled it up over her head and threw it in the pile, along with her panties.

Her muscles and bones ached with cold. There was a dull throbbing in her head and on the left side of her face where the back of his hand had connected with her cheek.

Elizabeth lowered herself into the warm water. She laid down and it rose up as high as her neck. She noticed she could stretch almost all the way out. Though she'd stayed here with Brett several times in the last six months, she'd never taken a bath, only showers. Such a nice, deep tub...she shut her eyes, feeling some warmth return to her body.

"You OK, Sprite?" Brett called through the door ten minutes later.

Elizabeth found her voice. "Yeah Brett, I'm fine."

"Need anything?"

"No, thanks. I'm about done."

"Just be careful getting out," he cautioned. He'd kept waiting for the crash, but it hadn't come. His little sister tended to be a bit clumsy at times. "Put on the clothes I brought in for you."

Elizabeth dreaded getting out, knowing she'd have to face her brother. Yet, he was the only one she could turn to now. He'd help her, she knew. He always did.

She dunked her head and quickly lathered it with some kind of Man Shampoo. It smelled-not great, yet not unpleasant, either.

Elizabeth dried and dressed, then attempted to hang her wet clothes over the shower curtain rod. They were heavy and she couldn't quite reach it so she just sort of tossed them up and over. Her panties and bra she hung over the towel rack.

The sweatshirt and sweatpants were almost comical. She looked like a little orphaned waif. But it was a far cry from the drowned rat look she'd been sporting earlier. Anyway, she didn't care; they were so incredibly soft and warm. She padded down the hall to the kitchen where she found her brother stirring some soup on the stove.

Brett looked up at her and laughed in spite of himself. She definitely looked better than she had when he found her on his front porch. Her hair was combed out and her cheeks were flushed with warmth. He poured the soup into two bowls and brought them to the table.

"Here ya go, eat up." He pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

"Thanks." Elizabeth smiled at him.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Elizabeth spoke up. "I suppose you're wondering why I was sitting on your porch in the middle of a thunderstorm."

As if on cue, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. The storm was directly overhead.

"Well, Elizabeth, the thought had crossed my mind." Brett sat back in his chair and looked at her. "I'm especially interested in hearing how that bruise came to be on your cheek. But first things first. You need to eat, then we can talk. OK?"

Brett's gentle voice and caring words caused tears to well in Elizabeth's eyes. She tried to blink them away before he saw, yet saw them he did. He reached for her hand.

"It's OK, sweetheart. You can cry here, it's allowed."

Nevertheless, she brushed them away and rose from the table. She took her bowl to the sink and ran water in it and the pot it had been heated in. Brett came over and placed his in the sink alongside Elizabeth's. He put an arm around her slim shoulders.


"Let's go watch TV for a while. You want anything to drink?" Brett opened the refrigerator and offered her a beer, but she declined. He grabbed a bottle and popped it open. He figured their Dad would kill him if he knew he let Elizabeth drink when she was over. He thought it odd she didn't accept the beer, usually she did. But he shrugged it off.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Brett tipped the bottle to his lips and saw Elizabeth trying to scoot closer to him. He smiled to himself.

"Come here, Elizabeth. You know I don't bite." He reached over and pulled her up close to him. With a sigh, she settled into his side.

Safe, was Elizabeth's only thought at the moment. She reveled in the feeling, knowing and fearing it wouldn't last. Safe was where Brett was, and right then that's all she wanted.

Brett propped his feet up on the old brass bound steamer trunk he used as a coffee table. His long legs stretched out before them. It wasn't long before Elizabeth's were propped up next to his, though they didn't extend out nearly as far as her brother's.

They watched the storm out the front window instead of the TV. It didn't matter anyway, as five minutes later the storm knocked out the power. The living room plunged into darkness. Brett stood and went to the kitchen.

He returned a few minutes later with a flashlight and two lit candles. After placing them on the steamer trunk beside the flashlight, he returned to the couch and settled Elizabeth back into the crook of his arm.

"Want to talk about it yet?" he offered.

Elizabeth hedged. "Yes and no." She leaned forward with a groan and put her face in her hands. Brett reached out and rubbed her back.

"When you're ready, Elizabeth. Do Mom and Dad know you're here?"

"I don't know. I didn't tell them where I was going." And they certainly hadn't asked.

"Maybe we should call them," he suggested.

"I-I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Brett."

"They might worry." What the hell, he'd try it.

Elizabeth just looked back at him and rolled her eyes. Brett tried a different tactic. He was a master at drawing Elizabeth out. Usually.

"Did you walk all the way here?"

"Yeah." She rubbed a small hand across her brow.

"Long walk, even when it's nice out. Why didn't you wait? I would have picked you up on the way home." He did that ocassionaly, if he wasn't going out with friends, or had a date. At the moment, he was girlfriendless, and had no plans with his friends for the evening. He likely would have cancelled any he had anyway, considering the state Elizabeth was in. He hadn't seen his sister quite like this before.

Though there was no electricity, the phone rang. Brett had a hard line he plugged in whenever the power went out. He got up to answer it, but Elizabeth grabbed his hand.

"Don't tell them I'm here, Brett! Please," she begged.

"Easy, Sprite. It may not even be them." He tried to be reassuring, but failed in his attempt.

"But Brett!"

"I'll handle it, Elizabeth." He pulled away from her.

Oh God, they were going to tell him, and then he'd hate her, too! Elizabeth thought wildly. No, no, not Brett, never Brett. He wouldn't turn her away. She tried to calm down, but could no longer hold in the tears.

"Was it them?" she asked when he returned.

Brett sat back down. "Yeah. It was Mom. She says you have something to tell me. I already figured that. What the hell's going on, Elizabeth? She said Dad told you not to come back."

"She didn't tell you?" Elizabeth looked at him through bloodshot eyes. She was a wreck, but was beautiful to him nonetheless.

"No. She said it was up to you."

Elizabeth moved back into the crook of him arm and laid her head on his chest. "You know Jim, right?"

"Yeah." Of course he did, she'd been dating him for several months.

"We um...did it," she murmured, then added, "I was a virgin."

"Oh. Well, OK." Brett was perplexed. He wasn't thrilled with the knowledge that Jim had taken his sisters' cherry, but still, that couldn't be it. Unless their Dad caught them. Holy Christ, if that was it they'd be attending Jim's funeral in the next day or two.

"He said he knew when to pull out. He said we didn't need to use anything, and I believed him." Elizabeth turned and pushed her face into Brett's chest, ashamed now at what she'd done.

"You didn't use any protection at all?" Brett asked carefully.

Elizabeth shook her head.

Brett wanted to ask her what the hell was wrong with the brain God gave her, but he held back, sensing there was more she had to say. He didn't like where this was headed.

"I'm pregnant, Brett," she whispered, confirming his fears.

Elizabeth felt his arms tighten around her. He didn't say anything for several moments, just let what she said to him sink in.

"Oh, baby," he sighed. "When did you find out?"

"Yesterday."

"How far along are you? Do you know?"

She shook her head. She wasn't sure; her mind was a jumble of confusion and she hadn't even attempted to figure it out.

Brett asked her a few more question, ones about her cycle, and as best as he could figure, she was about eight weeks. He was no expert on female reproduction, though.

"I'm assuming Mom and Dad found out, or did you tell them?" He suspected the former, seriously doubted the latter. He thought she would have come to him first, and he was right. She would have, had she had the chance.

"Dad found the test in the garbage."

"Oh Sprite," Brett sighed. Well, that explained the bruise on her left cheek. Dad's backhand was wicked, he knew first hand. He placed a light kiss on the top of her still-damp head. "Tell me all of it, Elizabeth. What else did he do?"

Elizabeth drew a deep, shuddering breath. "He came into my room and threw the test stick at me. He wanted to know what was going on. So what else could I do? I told him."

"Sweetheart, you should have come to me first." His tone, while quiet, spoke volumes.

"I was going to, tonight. I didn't mean for him to find out first. I thought I buried it deep enough."

"You know you can't bury things deep enough for him, Sprite. He'd have found it buried in the Grand Canyon," Brett muttered in disgust. "Then what?"

"Then he went off on me. He said some pretty horrible things. Called me whore and a bunch of other crap. Mom came in, but of course she said nothing."

"Of course." Brett agreed. He knew their Mother well.

"Then he told me to leave and never come back. He wouldn't let me take anything. He gave me the backhand and shoved me out the front door. I fell and hit the back of my head on the railing." She reached back and rubbed the lump hidden under her full head of auburn hair. It still hurt and had given her an awful headache. "That's it, I guess."

"That's enough, I'd say. Jesus Christ." Brett was livid, and angry at himself. He never should have left home, not while Elizabeth was still there. Dammit! He should have taken her with him the day she turned 18. In his mind he could see it clearly; their Dad raising his hand and striking out at Elizabeth. He'd seen it coming at his own face more times than he cared to recall. He felt sick to his stomach.

"I could hear Dad ranting in the background," Brett said, more to himself than to his sister.

Brett and Elizabeth were quiet for awhile. They sat together on the couch and watched out the window as the storm gradually faded away. He'd been unconsciously rubbing his sister's left arm and the gentle, rhythmic motion had put her on the verge of sleep.

Elizabeth relaxed into her brother, finally feeling secure enough to let her guard down. Now that he knew, she felt a little lighter; to have shared her burden with him was a great relief. Though she still had much to face, now she felt like she had an ally.

At ten-thirty Brett woke with a start as the power blinked back on. He eased out from under Elizabeth, blew out the candles and went to turn off the kitchen lights. While he was up he went to his room and turned down the bed for her. He'd take the couch.

After taking care of the bed he went to the bathroom to relieve himself of the soup and beer he'd consumed. He smiled to himself as he saw the attempt his sister had made at hanging up her clothes. He straightened them and turned to leave. Her bra and panties hanging on the towel rack caught his eye. He looked at them, then looked away, feeling guilty, especially when his penis began to get hard. Jesus, he thought, what the hell kind of pervert am I? Getting hard checking out my kid sister's underwear. Jesus! He returned to the living room.

Elizabeth had stretched out on the couch and was still asleep. Brett sat down on the steamer trunk and gazed down at her.

She nearly swam in his clothes, so big was he, so little was she. He brushed the long auburn hair off her face and touched the bruise. It had darkened considerably, and as he looked at it, so did his mood. On impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on the marred skin of her cheek.

He stood, then carefully picked her up in his arms and carried her down the hall. He had no idea what she weighed, but it couldn't have been much.

Brett placed her down gently, and drew up the covers. He kissed her forehead, then beat a hasty retreat. The bulge in his Levis was suddenly very uncomfortable.

In the living room he stripped down to his boxers and made a makeshift bed on the couch. He laid down and thought about his sister for a while, wondering what she would do about the baby growing in her. Would she keep it? Give it up? He didn't think she'd have an abortion. That just wasn't Elizabeth. He wondered then if Jim knew. Likely not, or she would have said something. He wondered, too, if Jim would stick around once he found out he was going to be a father. Brett had a sinking feeling about that, yet stranger things had happened. Though he couldn't help feeling his kid sister deserved better.

Better crap than their own Father dished out, Brett thought darkly. Sprite should be home in her own bed, not here with me. He'd never, ever turn her away, though.

No, they'd been through too much together already. Their bond had been forged many, many years ago. It had always seemed to be the two of them against the world; or more correctly, the two of them against their parents. Even their Mother would bow to their Fathers' cruel whims. Brett had never known a more unreasonable, unfeeling person in his life. And yet for all that, he thought he and his sister had turned out remarkably well, except for a few bruises here and there. OK, more than a few, he admitted to himself.


Brett and Elizabeth Ch. 01



It had bothered him when his dick had grown hard after seeing Elizabeth's bra and panties, and then again when he carried her down the hall to his bed. For a brief moment he'd wanted to climb in next to her and take her in his arms and-

"Jesus Christ, stop it!" Brett cursed aloud, angry at himself for even thinking it. He willed his sister from his brain and tried to think of something else. He fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of babies, fathers, and sisters.

The sound of vomiting woke Brett Saturday morning. Through the fog of interrupted sleep, he jumped to his feet, momentarily forgetting he was on the couch. He slammed his toe on the steamer trunk for his troubles.

"OW!" He grabbed it with one hand and hopped down the hall to the bathroom.

There was his sister, bent over the toilet bowl, heaving her guts out. Except she had nothing to bring up but bile. He realized then she was in the throes of morning sickness.

"You OK?" Brett asked with a frown.

Elizabeth shook her head no as she heaved again.

"Can I do anything? Do you need something?" Brett felt helpless and needless just standing there.

"No. Go," she croaked. With her left hand she tried to hold her hair back and with the right she held the toilet. But she had alot of hair and it was threatening to fall out of her grip into the bowl. Her gut heaved again. She made an awful retching sound. In spite of herself, she started to cry.

"Aw, Sprite, let me help you." Brett went and knelt down next to her. He gathered her hair up in one large hand so she could use both of hers to help steady herself. She bent over the toilet twice more before she was done. Brett pulled her into his arms.

"Gonna make it?" he asked, trying to sound lighthearted.

"Not if this keeps up." She felt completely spent, and she'd only been awake ten minutes.

"Want to go and lay back down for a while?"

"Yes, please."

So Brett helped her to her feet and down the hall to his room where he tucked her back into his bed.

"Thanks." Elizabeth smiled up at him.

"You're welcome." He returned the smile and kissed her unbruised cheek. He turned to leave.

"Stay. Don't go," she pleaded.

"Don't you want to go back to sleep?" It was only six a.m.

"Not yet. Sit with me for a few?"

"Sure, Sprite. Can I get you anything? Some water or crackers or something?" Wasn't that what pregnant women ate?

"Naw, I'm OK. Thanks, though." She moved over to give him room.

Brett sat on the bed next to her and stretched out his legs. He leaned back against the headboard. "Have you told Jim yet?"

"No. I'm not sure how he's going to take it."

"Hopefully like a man," Brett snorted. Though he had his doubts, he didn't voice them to his sister. She didn't need to hear that right then.

Elizabeth moved to rest her head on Brett's thigh. "I was foolish, wasn't I, Brett." It wasn't a question she was asking.

Brett stroked her hair, thinking for a moment. "I wouldn't say foolish, just too trusting. Jim should have known better than to not use anything. He should have been more responsible. Yet, you're not completely blameless either, Sprite. You know what makes a baby, and now you've got to pay the piper." He paused for a moment, then continued, "What do you think he'll say?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I have no idea. Probably won't be too happy, I'd imagine." Elizabeth had her doubts about Jim, just like her brother, though she didn't say so.

Before long, Elizabeth felt herself drifting off. She yawned into Brett's thigh, so he took that as his cue to leave her to sleep. But his sister had other ideas.

"Stay here," she mumbled, now almost asleep.

The bed was much more comfortable than the couch, there was no denying that. And Brett did still feel tired. He shrugged and slid down to lay next to Elizabeth. If having him next to her was what she needed, then that's what he'd give her.



Saturday passed by slowly for Elizabeth. Brett was gone in the afternoon, over to his friend Dave's house to get his truck out of the pole barn. He'd wanted her to go with him, if for no other reason than to give her something else to think about, but she refused. She didn't even want to go see Dave's little sister, Alicia, who was her best friend. Brett said he'd drop her off at Alicia's parents to visit, then pick her up on the way home, but she wasn't interested in that, either. She just didn't feel like seeing anyone.

At six that evening the deep rumble of the Chevy four hundred big block caught her ears. Brett was home with the truck, the Charger safely winterized and stored away in the pole barn. He walked in carrying her suitcase and an overnight bag. He dumped them both on the floor just inside the door.

"You got my stuff?" Elizabeth looked at him with big, wide blue eyes. She stood and made her way over to him.

"Yeah. I stopped by the house on my way home. I couldn't grab it all, just your warm stuff." It wouldn't be long and winter would be full upon them.

"Thank you, so much." She was deeply touched he'd done that, though not surprised. She knew how much he disliked going home. She put her arms around his waist and held tight. "Was he there?"

"No. But I'd have done it anyway." He reached up and stroked her hair.

"Does this mean I can stay a few days?" Elizabeth asked hopefully.

"Sprite, you can stay here as long as you want, I don't care."

"Really? For real? I swear, Brett, I'll stay out of your way, I promise. When you bring a girl home, I'll leave. I won't get in your way, I swear I won't!" She squeezed him as hard as she could. The air went out of him with a whoosh and a grunt. Elizabeth was surprisingly physically strong.

Elizabeth managed to hold down her dinner, which consisted of a scrambled egg and toast. Brett had fried bacon, but the smell alone nearly caused her to make a run for the bathroom.

Their evening was peaceful and Elizabeth fell asleep early. She'd changed out of her brother's clothes and was now wearing her own. Brett looked down to where she lay, her head resting in his lap, and wondered how long she'd be able to wear them.

Brett carried her down the hall for the second night in a row. His large bed looked so comfortable, he dreaded going back to the couch. But he would have if only Elizabeth hadn't woke up.

"Don't leave me." She reached out a small hand to him. He came back to her side.

"I won't if you don't want me to, Sprite. I'm here."

She moved over and he slipped off his jeans and climbed in next to her. "It's been a long time since we spent this much time in the same bed."

But Elizabeth didn't hear him. She was already fast asleep, curled up into a ball with her head pressed against his shoulder, his arm firmly in her grip.



Sunday morning the vomiting ritual began anew. It was a horrible start to what would turn out to be an equally horrible day.

Jim called Elizabeth at Brett's house late that morning. Their Mother had told him she was staying there; nothing more, nothing less. Brett answered the phone, then handed it to his sister without a word. He retreated to the kitchen to give her some privacy and could hear nothing but the low intermittent murmur of Elizabeth's voice.

After what seemed like an hour of silence, Brett made a cautious return to the living room. Elizabeth was sitting on the couch, still holding the phone in her hand. Tears fell silently dwon her cheeks. Brett's heart slammed so hard he thought it would come right on through his chest wall. It nearly killed him to see how broken she was. He cursed his Father a million times over and placed the blame for it all squarely at his feet.

Brett said nothing, just went and sat down next to his little Sprite. She threw her arms around him and cried. Cried harder than she ever had in her life; and she had a lifetime of tears to shed.

"Aw, Sprite," he whispered. "It's OK." Over and over again, he whispered it to her.

"He- he said doesn't love me. He never did," Elizabeth choked out when she could. "He wanted to know how I knew the baby was his. I've never even been with anyone else! God, how could I be so stupid, Brett?"

"You're not stupid," he insisted. "Just trusting. And that's not a terrible thing." Brett spoke quietly, trying to be as gentle as he could with her. But underneath the calm facade he was completely enraged. The only thing keeping him from hopping in his truck and going to kick the shit out of fucking Jimbo was his crying, sobbing mess of a little sister.

"Now what? Now what the hell do I do, Brett?"

"We'll deal with it, Sprite, OK? You're not alone." He kissed her then, more in an effort to quiet her down than anything. What he didn't count on was the effect it had on him.

It wasn't a deep, loving kiss; more of a slow peck on the lips, really. Yet it may as well have been for all it did to make Brett's penis swell in his pants. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks; he was beginning to want his sister. He attempted to shove the feelings aside and succeeded, for the most part.

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "We'll work it out," he repeated. "You need to think about what you want to do and weigh your options, Sprite."

"I don't know what my options are, Brett."

"Well, you can keep it, give it up. Or you can have an abortion." He didn't mince his words.

Elizabeth was quiet for a few minutes. "I don't know if I could do that," she whispered.

"No one said you had to, it's only one option. That leaves keeping it and raising it alone, or giving it up after you have it." Brett paused, "Sweetheart, you don't have to make any decisions right now, OK? You've got some time to think on it."

She had been thinking about it. Alot. Nonstop since she'd found out last Thursday. Yet for all that it had consumed her, she was still unable to think of the thing growing in her as a baby. No, no, it was just a mass, a bunch of cells. A little bean. A nothing. A nothing that was making her violently ill every morning. A nothing that caused her to feel so dragged out by noon that she had to go sleep for hours, then get up and still feel like shit.

When she looked in the mirror, she still saw herself, same as always. She hadn't changed, though she felt like she had. Same long, curly auburn hair that hung well past her shoulder blades. Same bright blue eyes. Her breasts, while tender now, had yet to increase in size; they were still little things, perfectly proportioned to the rest of her. Her waist was still slim, with her hips flaring out, then tapering down her thighs to her small calfs, all the way to her size six feet. No, physically she hadn't changed at all.

Elizabeth woke up at five that evening after sleeping most of the afternoon away. She lay there quietly in Brett's bed, thinking of him. She turned over, onto the other side and buried her face into the sheets. She could smell his scent there, lingering on the bed covers. He smelled so good, so familiar. For a brief second all of her troubles vanished as she remembered the soft, gentle way his lips had touched hers. Elizabeth's stomach quivered just then; she knew it was much to soon to feel the bean moving. A frown marred her pretty face as she wondered about what she'd just felt. She groaned and pushed her face into a pillow.

She heard a car pull into the driveway, heard the car door open and slam shut. Footfalls on the porch, then the sound of someone trying to batter down the front door.

What the hell? Elizabeth thought. She rose up on her knees and parted the blinds with her hands. She let out a startled gasp when she saw who it was.

Their Father had arrived.

To be continued...



Brett and Elizabeth Ch. 02



My deepest gratitude to Mused, for all his help with this.

~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth raced down the hall and ran smack into Brett. He was coming out of the kitchen to see who was trying to beat down his front door.

He grabbed his sister's arm to steady her. "Easy there, Sprite. Where's the fire?" he tried to joke.

"It's him, Brett; it's Dad at the door!" Elizabeth hissed. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I saw him out the window." She let go of his hand and clutched at his forearm.

A dark look crossed Brett's face, then left as quickly as it came.

The pounding on the door continued.

"Jesus Christ, he's persistent if nothing else," Brett muttered. "Let go, Elizabeth, so I can get the door." He pulled away, then thought to add, "Just...stay close."

Brett jerked open the door and their father entered without a word or greeting. It rubbed Brett the wrong way, but he held his tongue. He watched as his dad's eyes fixed on his little sister, who moved to stand at Brett's side. He gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.

"Your mother said you'd come here." Joe McCarty's icy blue eyes pierced into his daughter's.

Elizabeth's heart began to pound in her chest. She swallowed and nodded. "I had no where else to go. You threw me out." She tried to stand tall and not cower.

"And for good reason," he insisted.

"Getting pregnant is a good reason for tossing your daughter out on the street?" Elizabeth's voice began to rise. So did her father's anger.

"Elizabeth!" Brett tried to issue warning.

Their father raised his hand, his eyes glued on his daughter. By God, I'll show her, he thought viciously, I'll put her in her place once--

Brett shoved his sister behind him. "Not here, not in this house. Never again!"

Joe McCarty swung his gaze to his son. Eyes narrowing, he said, "She got herself pregnant, you idiot! The little bitch spread her legs and got knocked up and you're going to allow her to stay with you?"

"I hardly think she got that way herself." Brett's voice dripped with sarcasm, but his father ignored it.

"Send her away, Brett, or you're no longer my son!"

The decision was an easy one. Brett didn't even have to think about it. He spoke with quiet determination. "Then I'm no longer your son. Get the fuck out of my house. Now."

For a horrifying moment Elizabeth thought their father was actually going to challenge Brett. She saw him clenching his jaw, as if trying to make a decision. But with one last withering glare at his daughter, Joe turned and slammed out the door.

Brother and sister stood together, hand in hand, each trying to absorb what had just happened. It was Elizabeth who broke the silence.

"I thought he was going to hit me again."

"He was."

"Why does he hate me, Brett?" It didn't bother her so much anymore, but still, she asked. Elizabeth looked up at her brother.

Brett shook his head. "It's not just you, Elizabeth. Hell, he hates me, too. I don't think he likes Mom all that much, either."

"He's fucked up."

"I know," he sighed. "I don't know why, maybe it's the booze. I don't have the answers you want." He enfolded Elizabeth in his arms. "Wish I did, though. I wish things could be different. But he won't hurt you again. I promise."

Elizabeth was enjoying the feel of her brother's arms around her when she realized she was enjoying it a little too much. She pulled away. "Well, I hate him." She folded her arms across her chest.

"Don't waste your energy on such a useless emotion, Sprite. Hate will only eat you up inside. Besides," Brett reached out and touched her still-flat belly, "you've got someone else to think about now."

Elizabeth smiled and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Don't I know it."

Brett and Elizabeth hadn't heard from their mother at all, and that really hurt. They spent Thanksgiving with Dave and Alicia at their parents' home. It was the best holiday Elizabeth could remember in a long time. Ever, really. No one fought at their house, everyone just loved.

Alicia and Elizabeth were in the kitchen drying the china and putting it away when Brett and Dave walked in. They stood in the doorway watching as the two girls laughed and giggled and tried not to drop the heirloom dishes.

The two were as different as night was from day. Alicia was blonde, Elizabeth was dark. Alicia was tall, Elizabeth was not. While Alicia's eyes were as warm and brown as pudding, Elizabeth's were as blue as the summer sky. They'd been best friends their entire lives and really, the only things they had in common was their love of football and brothers that adored them. Yet, they were inseparable.

"The game's almost on, if you two are about done in here." Dave spoke up, interrupting the girls, who were in a fit of laughter about God only knew what. He took a look around. "I think there's more water on the floor than in the sink, Brett."

Brett laughed and grabbed the roll of paper towels. "Finish up, Elizabeth; then get out of here. I don't need you slipping on the water." He knew she would, too, if given half a chance. He took the plate she'd been drying, then ushered the two girls out. He and Dave made quick work of the last of the dishes, then cleaned up the floor.

The four of them watched the Lions and Vikings play in Detroit. When it was over, Brett and Elizabeth went looking for Dave and Alicia's parents to thank them and say goodbye. They found the elder Parkers in the study off the master bedroom.

"You know you are both welcome here anytime," Mr. Parker said to the pair as he stood to shake Brett's hand and hug Elizabeth.

"Please come for Christmas Eve," Mrs. Parker insisted. "Really, you must. Grandma Ruth will be here and I know she'd love to see you."

"And Blaire always makes enough to feed an army," Mr. Parker interjected. 

"Now, Thom..." Mrs. Parker's voice held a playful note of warning.

Elizabeth demurred, "I don't know..."

"No, no, I won't hear of you saying no, Elizabeth. Brett, I expect to see you both here Christmas Eve at 3:30 sharp." Mrs. Parker instructed.

"Yes, ma'am." Brett leaned and kissed her cheek. "We'll be here."

Long after Brett and Elizabeth left, Dave and Alicia sat in the living room talking. There was a late game on, Chiefs and Broncos, so Dave stayed to watch it with his sister. Alicia, like her older brother, was a die-hard football fanatic. Their parents, on the other hand, were not. But, out of loving respect, they gave the living room a wide berth whenever their kids were watching a game.

Alicia returned to the living room and handed Dave his requested left-over turkey, mustard, and stuffing sandwich, liberally smeared with cold gravy. He took a big bite and groaned with pleasure.

"That's disgusting, David." Alicia looked on in horror. "How the hell can you eat that?" She'd felt nauseous just making it.

"This, my dear, is a culinary masterpiece. Thank you." He took another big bite. "Want some?" He held it out to her.

"God, no!" She sat down on the couch next to her brother and tried to concentrate on the game, but her thoughts kept returning to Elizabeth. She'd almost passed out when Elizabeth had told her she was pregnant, and had gotten tossed, quite literally, out the front door. Of course, Alicia being Alicia, the first thing she had done was tell her mom; they were very close. The Parkers wanted Elizabeth to come stay with them, but she declined, opting instead to stay on with Brett.

"What's wrong, Alli? You're miles away." Dave's voice broke into her thoughts. He crammed the last of his sandwich in his mouth and took a big swallow of water.

"Just thinking about Elizabeth, I guess. I hope she's going to be alright."

"Aw, sweetie, she'll be OK. Brett will take care of her. Don't worry." He put an arm around her and hugged her.

"She's so young, David. I don't know what I'd do if that ever happened to me." She and Elizabeth were very nearly the exact same age, and it had scared the hell out of her.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be thrown out on your ass like Elizabeth was." Dave spoke with a bitterness that surprised Alicia. He'd been more upset about it than he'd let on, she realized. He rose, grabbed his plate and started out of the living room, then looked back at his sister. "I tell you what, Alligator, it damn well better not ever happen to you." He winked at her to soften his words. "And it won't be Mom and Dad you'll be needing to worry about."

Alicia threw a pillow at his retreating back, and smiled at his booming laugh.

Christmas Eve morning Brett called their parents. His mother answered and they spoke for a while. The conversation was a sad and disjointed one. She reiterated that Elizabeth had betrayed them by getting pregnant and added a final, stinging blow.

"Your father and I decided she may come home, but really, Brett, only if she does something about it first." Her voice was cold, measured.

Brett was dumbfounded. "You mean, get an abortion? You can't mean that." He felt sick.

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean."

"I don't think that's something she's planning on doing, Mom." Brett spoke between clenched teeth.

"She's ruined her life, Brett. And she's going to ruin yours, too, if you let her."

"OK, Mom," he sighed. "I know where you stand. I'm really sorry I called. Merry Christmas." And with that, and a heavy heart, he hung up.

Brett didn't tell Elizabeth about his conversation with their mother. There was really no point; it would only have served to upset her. Elizabeth was beginning to come to terms with her situation and had gone to see her doctor a week ago, setting the baby's due date at June 12. She had also finally quit spending her early mornings hovering over the toilet. And anyway, Brett knew he wouldn't have let Elizabeth go under any circumstance, save Eliabeth herself wanting to leave. He'd grown to love having her there.

Fucking Jimbo, as Brett had taken to calling him out of Elizabeth's earshot, had not reared his bastard head since he told Elizabeth he wanted nothing more to do with her, and that was fine with Brett. Elizabeth had breathed not another word about him to her brother, and Brett felt it best to let it be.

Christmas Eve at the Parkers was perfect. Everything about that family seemed perfect, at least to Brett and Elizabeth, who, considering their own family life, had never known anything but unperfect.

***************

The rest of the season passed slowly and uneventfully, with Winter eventually releasing it's icy grip on the landscape around them. And as the days grew warmer and lengthened, Elizabeth grew bigger. While far from huge, she'd long since outgrown her own clothes and, when at home, satisfied herself with Brett's oh-so-comfy boxer briefs and t-shirts.

Brett thought she looked adorable. He'd never really thought of his sister as a woman, much less as a mother. He found himself undeniably attracted to her. He tried to chalk it up to being in awe of her ability as a woman to create and sustain life.

And to be sure, that was partly it. He was amazed at her strength, yet touched by her vulnerability, and tried desperately to deny it was anything more than that.

Elizabeth was nearing the seven month mark when she called Brett over to the sofa. "Sit down." She patted the spot next to her. She lifted up Brett's blue Dodge MoPar t-shirt she'd confiscated earlier that day and took his hand, placing it on her belly. "Feel it?" she asked, smiling up at him. The baby was especially active that evening.

Brett felt for a moment. "No," he shook his head, disappointment registering on his face. He started to remove his hand.

"Wait...there!"

Brett's face lit up. "Oh my God, I felt it!" He grinned at Elizabeth. "That's weird. Cool, but weird."

Their gazes locked together for a long minute. Brett moved first, by a millisecond at most, and touched his lips to his sister's.

Elizabeth's whole being began to tingle the moment Brett's lips pressed to hers. She felt his tongue prod gently at her mouth; she parted her lips to allow it entry, in return allowing him to have her own.

Brett cupped her face with his large hands and slowly, gently explored her mouth with his. He was tender and hesitant at first, then grew a bit bolder when Elizabeth didn't pull away. He'd wanted to for such a long time, yet now a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered to him. Stop, it's wrong, she's your sister. The voice grew more insistent until he could no longer ignore it. He broke the kiss with a gut wrenching groan

"God Elizabeth, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that. Jesus, I'm sorry." He couldn't look at her.

Elizabeth reached out and touched his cheek. "Don't say you're sorry, Brett, because then I have to say it, too. And I don't want to," she whispered.

"I just can't take advantage of you like this, Sprite, you're pregnant." And you're my sister, he thought. He raked a hand through his dark hair. Calling his sister by her little girl nickname suddenly seemed strange. In his eyes, she was no longer a little girl.

"You're hardly taking advantage of me, Brett. If I want to kiss you, then by God, I'll kiss you." Elizabeth turned his face and pressed her lips to his once more.

"Far be it for me to deny a pregnant woman anything," Brett muttered against her mouth. He felt himself grow hard, yet knew in his heart he'd never touch her while she was pregnant. Not that he didn't want to. He'd never wanted anything more in his life than to take Elizabeth to the bedroom and make slow, gentle love to her.

Their feelings for one another had grown, changed, and evolved exponentially during the course of the past several months. They'd tried to deny it at first and act as if nothing had changed. Though they had yet to talk about it or verbally acknowledge it in any way, the looks and lingering touches were hard to ignore.

Brett put a hand behind Elizabeth's neck and held her to him. His tongue once again delved deep into her mouth. God save his soul, he couldn't help but touch her. His other hand stole up under her shirt and gently cupped one full, soft breast. The pad of his thumb brushed the pert nipple; Elizabeth moaned into his mouth.

With a hunger he hadn't known he posessed, Brett's lips traveled a wet trail down Elizabeth's neck. She arched her spine and tilted her head back, silently telling him how much she enjoyed his touch.

Underneath his shirt she wore a pair of his boxers. His hand slipped through and his fingers found the soft wetness of her slit. So much for not touching her, he thought. Any lingering doubts he had fell away as Elizabeth whispered her acceptance in his ear.

"Brett, please," she urged.

Brett stood and took Elizabeth by her hand. He put an arm around her and together they walked down the hall to the bedroom. They both knew what they wanted; there was no need for words.

Brett lifted Elizabeth's shirt up over her head, then held her steady as she removed his boxers she was wearing. He smiled as he gazed at the beauty that was his sister; she looked absolutely adorable to him. He had never desired a woman more in his life.

Elizabeth laid down in the big bed and watched her brother undress. He was a large man, broad through the shoulders, though not bulky. She noticed for the first time that the hair on his chest was several shades darker than what was on his head. It was nearly black. Her eyes followed the trail of dark curls all the way down, then all the way back up again. She met his eyes and smiled.

Brett climbed in next to Elizabeth and pulled her close, as close as he could without putting pressure on the small mound that was her belly. They kissed and touched again, taking their time exploring each other's bodies. There was no rush. 

Brett inhaled sharply when he felt his sister's hand close over his shaft. He happily returned the favor by slipping his hand between her thighs. "Elizabeth," he whispered, "I want you. But only when you're ready."

"I'm ready now, Brett." Her voice was soft, yet insistent.

"I don't want to hurt you." His blue eyes locked on hers.

To Elizabeth it seemed as if her brother was searching her eyes, her very soul; for what, she didn't know. She knew only that she loved him and wanted all of him. "You're not going to hurt me." She reached out a small hand and traced the outline of his lips.

"The baby-"

"Will be fine. Shh, it's OK." She placed a finger over his lips.

Brett bent his head to Elizabeth's and placed gentle kisses on each eye, her nose, and her mouth. "Turn over, on your other side."

Elizabeth did so until her back was pressed to his front. She could feel his arousal nudging intimately against the juncture of her thighs. Brett reached down and carefully lifted her upper leg. Positioning himself between her legs, slowly, ever so slowly, he entered her.

Brett's arms curled around Elizabeth's body as he began to move. Pulling her tight against his front, he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply, exhaling a loud groan.

Elizabeth took his hand in hers and guided it down between her legs. "Touch me, Brett. Please."

Brett's fingers found the sensitive nub between her folds and began to stroke as he gently moved in and out of her. He felt his orgasm building and tried to slow down, but his sister had other ideas. She began to grind against him. The feeling of her smooth butt against his thighs nearly sent him over the edge.

"Brett, oh my God," she moaned. "Please, I want-I need...oh God, Brett!" she shrieked as her orgasm consumed her.

Brett realized then his sister was a screamer. He'd never heard anything like it, but it turned him on immensely. He came hard, with a shout of his own to match Elizabeth's.

They lay that way for a little while, then Elizabeth twisted around in Brett's arms and tucked her head down against his chest. She reached up and plucked gently at the crisp, curly hairs covering it.

"You OK?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

Elizabeth moved back so she could see him. She smiled, somewhat shyly. "Oh, Brett, no. It was wonderful. You were wonderful. I've never felt so thoroughly...loved."

"I do love you, Elizabeth." Brett confessed in a whisper.

"I love you, too." She tucked her head back down against him and continued to run her fingers through the soft mat of hair covering his chest.

"You were awfully loud," he said, amusement clearly evident in his voice.

"I guess I was, wasn't I?" Elizabeth gave a little laugh.

"You're going to scare the hell out of the nurses when you go into labor."

Elizabeth denied it vehemently. "That's different. I bet I won't make a sound," she insisted.

****************

She screamed like a wild Irish banshee. Brett thought he was going to lose his mind watching each contraction rip through her tiny body. The monitor showed the beginning of each one, even before Elizabeth could feel it, yet Brett's warning that another was coming did little to help her cope.

Elizabeth detested the monitor. After the first half hour she ripped it off with a curse that would have made a sailor blush. She wanted out of that bed, and out of it immediately. She needed to walk.

It continued for hours. They walked, she squatted, they walked, she knelt, then they walked some more. Knowing she'd wind up in bed, Elizabeth refused every drug they offered her. She wanted no part of that; she needed to move.

Dave and Alicia were there as soon as possible, and took turns walking with her.

"I've got her for a minute, Brett. Go take a load off, man," Dave said to him, putting an arm around Elizabeth, who leaned heavily into his side.

Brett tried to refuse, but Elizabeth spoke up, "Go get something to eat. You've got to be starving."

"You heard the pregnant lady. Go." Dave instucted with a wave of his free arm.

Still, Brett tried to linger.




Brett and Elizabeth Ch. 02



"Alicia, take him down and make him eat." Elizabeth tried to sound stern as another contraction tore through her. "Goddamnit!" she hissed through clenched teeth and gripped Dave's arm. She tried to remember to breathe, but this one felt different for some reason.

"Come on, Brett, let's go. You won't do her any good if you pass out." Alicia led him away.

Brett lasted ten minutes before he was dragging Alicia back to the maternity ward. He couldn't be away; something was calling him back.

Dave intercepted them in the hall outside Elizabeth's room. "Thank God. I was just coming to find you guys."

There was a multitude of people rushing in and out of the room. Brett's eyes flashed to his best friend's. "What's going on, Dave? What the hell happened?" Brett didn't wait for Dave's answer; he pushed on past him.

Elizabeth was lying in bed, looking tiny and frightened. Her heart monitor was racing, Brett could see, and all color was gone from her face. She seemed to be fading fast.

Dave came up behind Brett and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "They hooked her up two minutes ago, said they didn't like the way she looked." He spoke as fast as he could. "They put the monitors on and then you showed up. And she's started to bleed, Brett. Heavily, it seems."

All hell broke loose then. Suddenly there were a hundred people in the room, throwing phrases around like "uterine rupture," "fetal distress," and "emergency section."

A kindly, middle-aged looking nurse came in and ushered Dave and Alicia out the door, then came back for Brett, who refused to leave Elizabeth's side.

"What the hell's going on!" Brett demanded, trying his damndest to remain calm, but was rapidly losing the battle. He allowed the nurse to take him gently by the arm and lead him away from Elizabeth's bedside.

She spoke quietly, "Elizabeth's uterus is rupturing. She's going down for surgery right now." The nurse, bless her soul, must have seen the look of panic cross Brett's face right then. She put her arm around him and led him back to his sister. "You can walk down with her."

"What the hell does that mean!"

Before the nurse could answer, Elizabeth was whisked out the door. Brett had to nearly run to keep up. 

"Hey baby," he grinned with false cheerfulness as he jogged along.

Elizabeth reached for his hand. Brett took it and held on as best he could. "What's going-"

"It's OK, Sprite, everything's fine. You'll be fine."

"But Brett, the baby-"

"Hush, love, it'll be fine."

They were at the swinging doors. Brett kissed her and she was gone, but not before he saw the look of desperation on his sister's face. It nearly drove him to his knees.

Alicia appeared at his side and took him by the arm. Brett looked down, seeming to not recognize her. "Brett, come on." She tugged at his arm.

They entered a small, cozy room just across the hall from the surgical unit. It appeared to be a private waiting room. Dave was already there, staring out the window to the landscape beyond.

Dave turned away from the window when he heard the door. His little sister walked in with Brett in tow. He strode to them and wrapped his arms around them both.

Almost immediately the same nurse that had talked to Brett in Elizabeth's room entered. She sat the trio down on one of the couches and explained Elizabeth's precarious situation.

It was rare, but uterine ruptures during labor did happen. She couldn't tell them yet how extensive the damage was, or even what the outcome would be.

"But Elizabeth, is she OK? The baby?" Brett didn't even know what to ask, what to say. He was desperate for some tiny bit of reassurance his sister wasn't going to die.

The nurse didn't tell him that the fetal survival rate of a ruptured uterus was low. She herself had only seen three, and of the three, two had died. The mothers, however, had all survived. That she did tell him.

The nurse excused herself from the room, saying she'd be back, and to use the phone to page the desk if they needed anything, anything at all.

Brett, Dave and Alicia sat together on the sofa, Alicia sandwiched between their huge shoulders. They barely spoke. Time passed, but not nearly fast enough for them. Brett got up and paced, then sat, then paced some more. Still nothing. He was ready to go looking for the nurse when she appeared in the doorway.

She smiled at Brett and said, "You have a daughter." She obviously didn't know Brett and Elizabeth's true relation. "She made it." The nurse herself was stunned.

Brett could only nod. He swallowed hard. "Elizabeth?"

"She's still with us, Brett. You need to know, though, the surgeon is having some difficulties. I'm sorry, but I don't know anything more than that."

Brett's world rocked. He reeled back, and would have fallen had Dave not been standing right behind him.

Dave grabbed Brett's shoulders. "She'll make it, man, she's tough." Dave's voice was low, Brett barely heard him.

The nurse left them alone again, but not for long. "You may come see your daughter now, Brett, if you'd like. She's a trooper."

Like her Mom, Brett thought. God, please let Elizabeth be OK. I can't live without her. He thought, briefly, about calling their parents, then shoved that thought aside. They'd made their choice, and so had Brett and Elizabeth.

Brett followed the nurse to neonatal where the baby was being kept for observation. It was a short walk from maternity through a single set of doors.

The tiny baby was swaddled tightly in a pretty pink receiving blanket, all four pounds, thirteen ounces of her. Several nurses and aides were fawning and cooing over her when Brett walked in. Each one looked up and smiled at him.

"Here she is," one whispered and handed the little bundle over to him. "You're daughter." Brett didn't bother to correct her. He swallowed, or tried to, over the lump in his throat.

One of the nurses guided him over to a glider. He sat and automatically began to rock. Everyone else quietly faded away.

Tears fell shamelessly down his cheeks. In his arms he held his sister's daughter, his niece, yet he loved her as if she were his very own.

Little blue eyes slowly blinked open. A rosebud mouth stretched in a wide yawn.

Brett smiled. "Hi," he whispered.

The little blue eyes focused intently on him for several seconds, then drifted shut again. Brett leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her perfect nose.

The door to the nursery opened. Brett looked up to see Alicia standing there with a nurse. They both entered.

"Hey Alli," Brett greeted her.

"They said we could come down, Brett, and see the baby. Dave's outside," Alicia jerked her thumb towards the door. Brett looked over to the window that faced the corridor to see his best friend waving at him.

"Is he coming in?"

"I think he's scared," Alicia whispered conspiratorially. She walked over to where Brett was seated, rocking the baby. "Oh, Brett, she's so sweet!"

"Yeah she is," Brett smiled. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Really? Can I? You don't mind?" Alicia's brown eyes sparkled.

"Of course not." He stood, let Alicia get settled in the glider, then handed her the precious little pink bundle.

Alicia took the baby and stretched up to kiss Brett's cheek before he stood. "Thanks Brett. She's going to be OK, you know. Elizabeth, she'll make it."

Brett straightened. "I hope so Alli, I can't lose her."

Alicia looked at him quietly for a moment, working something over in her mind, then turned her attention back to the baby. She began to rock and sing to her.

Brett ventured out into the hall to see Dave just as their original nurse came looking for them. She'd begun to think of the trio as one unit.

"The surgeon wants to speak to you, Brett. Elizabeth pulled through, but not without some complications. He's waiting for you."

"Oh God, thank you," Brett whispered, then found himself engulfed by Dave's hug.

Dave released him and said, "I'll get Alicia, go see the doc."

The surgeon told Brett that because he'd been unable to stop the bleeding and, considering there was so much damage to the uterus, he'd had to do a hysterectomy. Elizabeth would recover fully, but would never bear another child. Brett could go see her, though she was still under.

Elizabeth looked like death warmed over, but Brett had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

Back in the little waiting room, Dave held Alicia in his arms as she cried. The relief had nearly overwhelmed her and she'd come close to fainting.

"Shh, Alligator, it's OK. It's all OK." He made a clumsy attempt to mop up her tears with the hem of his t-shirt, but it wasn't enough. Her nose streamed twin rivers, and the tears only kept coming. He got up and grabbed the roll of paper towel over by the small sink in the corner.

She quieted eventually, much to Dave's relief. They sat there together that way for a long time, until the nurse walked in and saw them.

"Oh, I didn't realize you two were still here. Elizabeth's starting to wake up. Would you like to see her?"

"It's OK?" Dave asked, surprised they'd be allowed in while Brett was still in there.

"Sure. Come on." She directed Dave and Alicia down the hall and pointed out Elizabeth's room. "Just don't stay too long."

The door to the private room stood open. Dave and Alicia paused just inside and watched as Brett held the baby in front of Elizabeth so she could see her.

"Still want to name her Samantha?" Brett asked.

Elizabeth nodded. "How about Samantha June?"

"I like it. Samantha June," he repeated. Brett bent his head to Elizabeth's and kissed her softly on the lips, unaware they had an audience.

Dave pulled Alicia back out of the room. "Shit, I think we just walked in on something we weren't supposed to see," he whispered to his sister.

Alicia shrugged. "So what?"

"Isn't that, like, weird?"

"You're weird. Don't be such a prude, David."

Dave opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. What the hell could he say to that? He'd just never thought of Brett and Elizabeth that way before. He'd definitely never thought of Alicia that way.

"Come on, let's go in and see them." Alicia grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the room.

It was a sweet moment, the two sets of siblings together with little Samantha. Alicia sat in the corner holding her, singing softly. Dave thought his sister had a pretty voice; he'd really never noticed it before. He stood off to one side, taking in the scene in front of him.

Dave did notice his best friend couldn't take his eyes off Elizabeth, nor could Elizabeth take her eyes off Brett. He wondered when that had all come about, and how? And did it even matter? He guessed not, not in the big scheme of things, anyway.

Brett was laughing and saying something to him, but he'd missed it, as lost in his own thoughts as he'd been. He pushed away from the wall he'd been holding up and went to join his sister and his friends.

To be continued...



Brett and Elizabeth Ch. 03



Once again, my heartfelt thanks to Mused for all of his time and patience. No one can work a sentence like you. Thank you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was well past eight in the evening when Dave and Alicia finally left the hospital. Margaret, the nurse who had seen them through Elizabeth's horrifying labor with baby Samantha, ended up letting them stay as long as they wanted. With Brett, they took Samantha to the nursery, then went down to the café and grabbed dinner so Elizabeth could rest awhile.

When the trio returned to the room, Elizabeth was still fast asleep. Dave and Alicia bid Brett goodnight, saw the baby, whom they had already dubbed little Sammi, and left for home.

It was a warm June evening. The sun was low in the sky, bright streaks of pink and orange pierced the clouds. It was a beautiful ending to what had been a near-tragic day.

Hand in hand, they crossed the river via the pedestrian bridge. Alicia was unusually quiet and for once Dave broke the silence.

"Quite the day, huh, Alli?"

Alicia groaned. "One I never want to relive, that's for sure. God, David, I can't believe they almost died." Alicia let go of Dave's hand and wandered over to the ornate cement and iron guard rail. She leaned over and watched the muddy water rush under the bridge.

Dave followed Alicia to the railing and leaned a hip against it. "Try not to think about it, OK? They made it, that's all that matters now." He reached out and touched her hand.

She turned her head and smiled up at her brother. "I know."

"So what do you think's up with those two?" Dave asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Alicia noticed his frown and didn't like it. "They love each other, genius. Can't you tell? Don't tell me you haven't been noticing the way they act around each other." Alicia loved her big brother, but sometimes she thought he could be so dense.

Dave snorted. "Well, I love you, but I don't get all goofy around you."

Alicia took a swipe at him and he threw up his arms in mock defense. Though she was only a few inches shorter than he was, he outweighed her by more than seventy pounds. His sister was hardly a threat.

"I think they've fallen in love, David. It's different with them now. Somewhere along the way it all changed for them. I'm not sure exactly when I started to notice, early spring, maybe."

"Well, where the hell was I? I didn't get the memo."

"I don't think it's something they're sending out announcements for. Seriously, though, don't make such a big deal out of it, OK? They're probably having a hard enough time as it is." Alicia turned away from the rail. She took Dave's hand and they started walking. "Can I stay with you tonight? I don't want to go home and face the inquisition."

Alicia had called their parents from the hospital earlier in the day to let them know about Elizabeth. She'd mentioned there had been some trouble, but Elizabeth and Samantha had pulled through and would be OK. Alicia would tell their mom everything that had happened. There was nothing in Alicia's life that her mom didn't know, but she just wasn't up to the task that evening.

"Sure, though I have to warn you that the place is a mess. I think I can find room for you," Dave teased.

"Gee, thanks."



After Dave and Alicia left, Brett went down to the nursery to retrieve Samantha. She'd been allowed out of neonatal almost immediately after being checked over and deemed fit and healthy as a little horse. She was already starting to eat like one.

Elizabeth was awake when he returned and happy to see him and Sammi. "I'd like to hold her, Brett." She still felt very weak, and had yet to hold the baby. Her arms were almost aching to.

Gently, Brett placed Samantha in his sister's arms. "Got her?" He sat down on the bed, in case Elizabeth needed help.

"Oh, Brett..." Elizabeth started to cry.

"I know, sweetie. I know." He put his arm around Elizabeth and pulled her close. He still couldn't believe he'd almost lost them both.

Alicia had helped Brett tell Elizabeth that Samantha would be the only child she'd ever have. Elizabeth had taken the news well enough, but now it seemed to be sinking in that, indeed, this would be her only child. 

The night nurse walked in and smiled at the scene that greeted her. She'd heard what happened earlier. "Will you be staying all night?" she asked Brett gently, sincerely hoping he'd say yes. She thought it would be good for Elizabeth to have him there.


"I'd like to, if I can," Brett replied, pulling his eyes away from his sister and Samantha just long enough to answer.

"Certainly. Elizabeth, are you doing alright? How's the pain?"

"Fine, I'm fine," she whispered, unable to look up.

"Well, this room is large enough for another bed." The nurse gazed about the room. "Let me see what I can do about getting another one in here. If not, the chair reclines down. Not very comfortable, though. I'll be back."

Elizabeth had somehow lucked out and gotten the family suite. The room was huge, and with just the bed and three chairs, there was a lot of unused space. True to her word, the nurse returned shortly with two orderlies and another hospital bed. They wheeled it up alongside Elizabeth's.

"This should do it for you. Elizabeth, you need your rest. Would you like me to take Samantha down to the nursery, after her feeding?"

"No! I mean no thank you. I want to keep her in here with us." She felt a sudden sense of panic at the thought of the nurse taking Samantha.

"As long as you get some sleep, then." The nurse turned to Brett. "Don't hesitate to bring her down to the nursery if you need to."

They took turns feeding Samantha, who fell promptly back to sleep once she had a full belly. Brett placed her into the little Plexiglas bassinet and helped Elizabeth get settled in to sleep.

Brett sat back down on the edge of her bed and took her hand. It had been such an awful day, and he just wanted to be close to Elizabeth, but it was impossible for now. He wanted to lift her up and hold her to him, but he couldn't. He could talk to her, though.

"I thought I was going to lose you today, Elizabeth," he whispered. His voice caught in his throat.

"You didn't. I'm here, Brett. You're not getting rid of me that easily." She gave him a wide smile that squeezed his heart. "When can I go home?"

"Um, you just about died four hours ago, I really don't think you're going anywhere for a few days. You're going to have to take it easy for a little while."

"I know I just wish I could go home is all."

"Soon enough, Elizabeth." He smoothed her hair back. "I have to work tomorrow, sweetie, so Alli's coming up in the morning, OK? She wants to stay here with you for the day. Is that fine with you?"

"I'm sure we'll find something to occupy our time," Elizabeth gave Brett a mischievious smile.

"Knowing Alli, she'll be running you up and down the halls in a wheelchair. You better take it easy," Brett warned, chucking her under the chin. "And stay away from the orderlies."



Alicia showed up at eight the following morning, with Dave in tow. Brett left after having breakfast with Elizabeth, who grumbled about the liquid diet she had to put up with, at least for that day. She tried unsuccessfully to talk him out a piece of bacon. Brett was secretly pleased to see his sister become irate.

Alicia carried a huge bouquet of balloons and Dave hauled in a teddy bear that was half the size of him. Alicia had raided the gift shop on their way in. She'd also bought several books, a few magazines, and a manicure kit she'd found in there.

"Oh, you guys!" Elizabeth started to laugh, and then had to stop. It kind of hurt to laugh, though the pain medication she was on helped a lot.

"Alli bought out the gift shop. Where do you want this thing?" Dave didn't wait for an answer, he just plopped the bear down on the nearest chair. Taking note of the extra bed, he commented, "Have company last night, Elizabeth?"

"Brett stayed all night. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," he smiled and went over to kiss her cheek. "I wish I could stay, but I can't. You doing OK? Do you need anything before I leave?"

"I'm good, thanks. And thanks for bringing Alli back."

"Sure." He made goo goo noises at Samantha, who was having her breakfast in her mother's arms. He went to Alicia and kissed her cheek as well. "See you later, Alligator."

The day flew by for the girls. Elizabeth's day nurse was Margaret again, and she and Alicia got Elizabeth up and into the shower, which felt like heaven to Elizabeth. Alicia helped her brush out her long auburn curls and tied it back in a ponytail, then busied herself feeding and changing Sammi while Elizabeth slept for an hour after lunch.

The only low point of the day came when one of the aides came in with the paperwork for the birth certificate. Elizabeth wanted in the worst way to write Brett Michael McCarty next to "Father," but instead slowly wrote Unknown.

"Sure you want to do that? If you put fu--Jim's name on it the state will make him help you out, you know, if you want." Alicia had almost called him fucking Jimbo, but caught herself just in time. She'd always thought Elizabeth would find it funny, but Brett and Dave cautioned her not to say it.

"I don't want anything more to do with him Alli, you know that. I'd prefer to not have to deal with him for the next eighteen years, and Brett doesn't want to, either. Besides, Jim made his decision seven months ago."

"I know. I know. You're right." She peeked over at the baby, who was sleeping soundly next to Elizabeth in the bed. "Hey, let's give you a manicure, and I think I've got some mascara in my purse." She grabbed it and started digging through the oversized bag. Without thinking, she continued, "Brett will be here soon and you want to look your best."

"What?" Elizabeth asked sharply. "Why would I care? He's my brother." Her heart started pounding a wild beat.

Alicia looked up at her and smiled the sweetest smile Elizabeth had ever seen. In that instant, she knew. Alicia had figured it out.

Alicia dropped the bag on the bed and sat down next to Elizabeth. She took her best friends' hands in her own and looked at her closely. She spoke carefully, "Elizabeth, it's OK, you know. I understand."

"How--what do you know?" Tears began to brim and threatened to fall.

"Stop that; don't cry. C'mon Elizabeth, give me a little credit. Seriously, except for Brett, who knows you better than me?" Alicia asked, and then answered her own question. "No one."

"I don't know what to say, Alli."

"You don't have to say anything at all, if you don't want to. But of course I want the details," Alicia teased with a laugh. Alicia's laugh was the infectious kind and once she started, Elizabeth couldn't help but join in, painful or not. "Just think, Elizabeth, at least you've got Brett for a brother; you could have ended up with David."

"Oh, Alli, he's not so bad. He's very sweet," Elizabeth protested in Dave's defense.

Alicia sobered for a moment, thinking about her brother. "Yeah, he is. He's a goof, but I love him."

"Well, you guys are two peas in a pod, then. You're just as goofy."

The girls continued their playful bantering for a few seconds longer, and then, with a sigh, Elizabeth said, "I do love him Alli. I can't help it, but I do. I don't know how it happened."

"He loves you, too, then?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Then nothing else matters."



Elizabeth and Samantha were released four days later. Walking into Brett's house, Elizabeth finally felt like she had come home. 

Alicia stayed with them several nights to help with the baby. She was out of school for the summer and working part-time in her father's office.



Brett and Dave were working on their cars, one hot Saturday afternoon in late July, when Dave brought up Brett and Elizabeth's relationship for the first time. He'd only heard bits and pieces about it from Alicia. She didn't have a whole lot to say about it, which was unusual for her.

"So, how'd it happen?" Dave was never one to mince his words, once he got around to it, especially with Brett.

"How'd what happen?" Brett asked, gritting his teeth as he tightened a bolt. Just then the wrench slipped. "Mother fucker!" he cursed and put the torn, bloodied knuckle to his mouth.

"You and Elizabeth. You two are, you know, together now. How long's it been?"

Brett shrugged, "Spring, I guess. Why, you've got a problem with it?" He wasn't sure he liked being questioned about his relationship with Elizabeth, even by Dave.

"Hell no, man, I don't care. I was just wondering, that's all. More curious than anything, I guess. I was just wondering how it all came about." He didn't want to upset his friend; he just wanted to know. No, that wasn't right. He needed to know.

Brett tossed the offending wrench into his upright toolbox and raked a greasy hand through his hair. "I don't know, Dave, it just did. It's not like we planned it."

Dave didn't say anything, just nodded with a far-away look in his eyes. He decided to change the subject. "So what's up for the girls' birthdays?" In all the years they'd been friends, they had never failed to celebrate their birthdays together. Elizabeth's was the following day and Alicia's was five days later.

"We're all having dinner at your parent's tomorrow night." Brett looked at him a bit strangely.

"Why the hell doesn't anybody tell me anything? I'm always the last to know."



Later that evening, after Elizabeth had put Samantha down to sleep, she quietly approached Brett. He was sitting on the sofa reading and didn't notice a thing until she was nearly standing on top of him. He looked up, surprised, and set the book aside with a smile.

"Hey sweetie, come sit." He opened his arms to her.

Elizabeth took his invitation to heart and dropped herself right down on his lap. Brett managed to stifle a groan and pulled her close to him.

"What's up?" he asked, giving her neck a little nuzzle.

"I want my birthday present," Elizabeth laughed, a sparkle in her blue eyes. Brett hadn't shaved since yesterday morning, and his whiskers tickled.

"Greedy girl, it's not your birthday yet. You're not nineteen until tomorrow, nine thirty-seven a.m., if I remember right."

"Bet I can make you give it to me," she taunted playfully.

"Bet not." Brett challenged her with a grin.

Elizabeth sat up and slowly untied the belt to her robe. Never unlocking her eyes from her brother's, she let it fall down her shoulders to her hips, where it could go no further. She was completely naked underneath.

Brett swallowed. "No fair," he muttered.

"Oh yes, fair," she whispered and bent her head to his. Her mouth went to his left ear; he could feel it there, hot and wet as her tongue curled around his earlobe. She nipped him gently, then moved to the other side and did the same. She leaned back and smiled.

Brett's hands came up her sides, along her ribs until they brushed the sides of her breasts. His hands caressed them once, twice, and then he leaned forward and took one dark, stiff nipple into his mouth. His tongue teased and played, flicking over the little peak repeatedly.

"Mmm...yesss," Elizabeth tipped her head back, her long auburn curls reaching Brett's knees.

Brett tugged at the bathrobe, wanting nothing in his way. His mouth released Elizabeth's nipple. Wrapping a strong arm around her waist, he lifted her and yanked the thin, lightweight robe out from under.

They hadn't made love since before Samantha had been born, nearly six weeks ago. The trauma Elizabeth's body had sustained and the residual pain had prevented it. Though, she certainly seemed up for it now, Brett thought, or rather, he hoped.

Brett's eyes moved from hers, to her breasts, down lower to her belly and the still-raw looking vertical scar that dominated her lower half. It was red and shiny and five inches long.

"Don't look," Elizabeth whispered. "It's ugly."

Brett's eyes flew back up to hers. He shook his head. "Nothing about you is ugly, Elizabeth. Nothing. I love you, all of you, including that scar." His voice was strong, his words insistent. The scar represented her very life to him, and the tiny life sleeping in their bedroom. "You are so beautiful." 

Brett's hands lowered and wrapped her waist, a waist so recently returned to her. Yet she was fuller now, her curves more pronounced, more womanly. She was not the girl she had been only a year ago, physically, mentally, or emotionally.

The first finger of Brett's left hand traced a path down the scar to where it stopped, just above the curls hiding what his finger sought. After a brief hesitation, it continued lower into the curls. Elizabeth inhaled sharply through her nose, when her brother found what he wanted. Cautiously, worried Elizabeth was still tender, he pushed inside.

"Oh Brett, oh God that feels good," she breathed.

Brett could feel how wet she was, how hot and aroused. The pad of his thumb rubbed her clit in circles as his finger pulled out, then sank back in. He bent his head to take the other nipple into his mouth, his tongue giving the same treatment. Elizabeth's arms encircled his head, holding him to her breast. She could feel her orgasm building, she needed the release; it had been such a long time. She began to buck and ride his hand.

"Oh God, Brett, I'm gonna cum!" Elizabeth said in a loud whisper.

"Don't scream, you'll scare Sam," Brett cautioned, knowing just how loud she could be.

"Oookaaaay, Brett, oh fuck, Brett!" Elizabeth's body shuddered with her climax, and the effort it took for her to not yell out only increased the intensity of it. She writhed and squirmed on his hand, her orgasm continuing to pulse through her body until she could no longer hold herself upright. She collapsed against Brett's chest, feeling her own chest heave as she struggled to catch her breath.

Gently, Brett pulled his arm free and encircled her nakedness. He held her close as she came down, stroking her hair and whispering to her how very much he loved her. He wanted to know if it hurt at all.

"No," she mumbled into his chest. She raised her head and looked him in the eyes. "Take me to bed, Brett. I want you to make love to me."

"You're ready now? You're sure?"

"Well, I don't hurt anymore; I'd like to try, anyway."

They rose from the sofa and made their way down the hall to their bedroom. Elizabeth peeked in on Samantha, who was sleeping soundly in her bassinet, swaddled in a blanket like a little burrito.

Brett came up behind his sister and wrapped his arms around her waist. He drew her back against him and whispered in her ear, "She looks so much like you in your baby pictures." Fortunately, he didn't see much resemblance to fucking Jimbo.

Elizabeth turned in his arms and snaked her own arms up his chest and around his neck. She smiled a bit wickedly and whispered back, "I am adorable; aren't I?"

Brett picked her up easily and carried her to the bed. He placed her down gently, then straightened to remove his clothes. That job quickly done, he lay down and pulled Elizabeth into his arms. He kissed her deeply, his tongue sparring with hers.

Elizabeth broke the kiss and forced Brett on his back. She rolled on top of him and sat up. Brett couldn't resist reaching up and taking her breasts in his hands. They fit so perfectly there. He caressed the nipples and watched as they hardened.

Elizabeth bent forward and started kissing him at his neck. She worked her way down, slowly moving lower, taking pause at his nipples to circle each with her tongue. Lower still she went, until she was hovering over his stiff, straining cock. She wrapped her soft hand around its base and slowly took the head between her lips.

Elizabeth swirled her tongue around it; it grew wet and slick with saliva. She began to work it towards the back of her throat, causing Brett to grunt with pleasure. Her mouth felt exquisite, so warm and wet. He felt the head of his cock going down her throat and he nearly shot off right then. Elizabeth's ability to take him all the way down always amazed him. Somehow, though, he held back. He wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.




Brett and Elizabeth Ch. 03



Elizabeth sensed Brett was close. She reached up and cupped his balls in her hand, massaging them gently, knowing full well the effect that had on him. She gazed up the length of his body to find him looking down at her. She smiled around his cock and nodded.

That's all it took for Brett to explode in Elizabeth's mouth. His hips jerked three times, once for each shot. Some dribbled out of the side of her mouth, but she managed to swallow most of it. Seeing Elizabeth swallow his sperm, and then watching her lick up what had dribbled out, served only to turn him on further. It wasn't long before he was hard again. "Come here, Elizabeth," he whispered, pulling her up towards him.

Elizabeth scooted up and Brett moved between her legs. Using one hand and supporting himself over her with the other, he positioned himself at the juncture of her thighs. He rubbed the head against her lips, liberally coating it with her wetness before carefully easing into her.

He went slowly, an inch at a time, prepared to withdraw instantly if Elizabeth showed any signs of discomfort. But there was no pain, only pleasure, and she told him so, as he sunk in the last inch.

"Ohhh Brett," she sighed and wrapped her legs up high around his waist. "You feel so good." His weight was heavy on her, even though he held himself on his elbows, but the weight felt good, it was comforting. Elizabeth held on to him so tightly with her arms and legs that he had a hard time moving.

He laughed, low and soft. "Baby loosen up a bit, I can't move."

"Sorry," she giggled and relaxed her grip on him. He began his rhythm.

Elizabeth grabbed Brett's butt with both hands, urging him on. His mouth slanted over hers again and again, then moved down to her neck. She smelled so good, the smell of her skin, her hair. The scent of their lovemaking intermingling with it all was intoxicating.

"Elizabeth. oh God, Elizabeth, you feel incredible." He pulled almost all the way out, then sunk back in. He tried to go slow, to prolong it, but it had been almost two months since he'd made love to her; he just couldn't hold back. "Are you close?" he panted.

"Oh yessss, Brett, oh Brett, oh--I'm gonna..." Elizabeth pressed her mouth to his shoulder and bit down, not hard, but enough to suppress the urge to scream.

Brett came hard once again. He found he liked the sensation of her teeth sinking into his skin as he reached his orgasm. It didn't hurt, exactly, yet it made the sensations rocking through him that much more intense. He rolled off Elizabeth and dragged her on top of him. She lay over him like a limp rag doll, arms and legs draped on either side. She panted softly, trying to catch her breath. Brett held her tight as she came down from her orgasmic high.

"God, Brett, you're amazing," she whispered, running her fingers through the damp hairs on his chest. With Elizabeth laying over him that way, playing with the dark curls covering his chest, Brett found it almost as pleasurable as the sex itself. Almost.

"You're pretty darn amazing yourself," he laughed. He glanced at the clock; it was just after midnight. "Happy birthday, sweetie. I love you." He placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Thanks. I love you, too."

"Ha, you thought you were going to get me to give you your birthday present early. Gotcha," he teased.

"Uh-uh, Brett. You just gave me my birthday present. Got you," she grinned and returned the kiss.

Their playfulness was interrupted by a soft cooing coming from the bassinet across the room. Elizabeth rolled off her brother and went to fetch Samantha. She returned to the bed and put the baby to her breast.

Brett lay there quietly, watching Elizabeth feed Samantha. It was an amazing sight, one that moved him whenever he was fortunate enough to be around to see it. It relaxed him and made everything that was wrong with the world seem right, if only for a moment.

Samantha woke up once more during the night. After repeating the ritual, Elizabeth put her back to bed and climbed in next to Brett. There was a full moon that night, light flooded their bedroom with a hauntingly silver light. Elizabeth thought about pulling the blinds, but looking at Brett bathed in moonlight was just too beautiful. It was a warm night, and the sheet only covered him to his waist.

Brett lay on his side, his back to Elizabeth. She lay on her side as well, facing him. She ran her hand lightly down his back, watching gooseflesh rise on his skin. He shivered in his sleep, in spite of the warm evening.

Her eyes sought the scar, his, not hers. She found it easily enough, down on the small of his back. Jagged, where the belt their father had wielded slipped, the buckle striking and ripping his twelve year old flesh. Elizabeth couldn't remember why anymore; she doubted Brett would ever forget. She'd never ask now, though. Some memories were best left buried.

Elizabeth did remember creeping into his room that night with a wet washcloth and the bandages, careful to not make a sound that would draw attention to herself. She had wiped off the dried, crusted blood and covered half his back with gauze, then held her big brother while he cried.

In spite of the abuse they had suffered (though it was Brett who had really caught the brunt of it) she thought her brother was the most gentle man she had ever known. He was the complete opposite of their father; the way he held Samantha and talked to her and loved her brought tears to Elizabeth's eyes. Samantha wasn't even his real daughter, yet he loved her as if she were. She cuddled up to his back and fell into an easy, peaceful sleep.



Elizabeth and Alicia could have skipped dinner completely, for all the attention that was paid to them. Samantha was the star of the evening, with Mr. and Mrs. Parker and Grandma Ruth playing pass the baby all night long. Elizabeth saw her only to feed her. Mrs. Parker delighted even in changing Samantha's dirty diaper, all the while carrying on about how she missed having a baby in the house. Dave rolled his eyes when his mom looked at him pointedly during one such exclamation.

"Get over it, Mom. I'm never having kids. If you want grandchildren, talk to Alligator. She's going to have to be the one to give you baby gators." That little comment got him a whack across the back of his blond head as Alicia passed behind him. "Ow! Alli!"

"You'll meet your match one of these days, David Parker, mark my words," Alicia vowed, "and when you do, look out, 'cause you'll never see it coming."

"She's got you there, Dave," Brett laughed. "Just yesterday you told me you're always the last to know."



"Elizabeth, do you think David meant what he said?" Alicia ventured later that evening, as they stood out by the car saying goodbye.

"What did he say?" Elizabeth asked her best friend, trying to think back.

"About never wanting kids. Do you think he meant it?"

"Oh, I don't know, Alli. I hope not. I think he'll make a great dad, someday. He's pretty young yet."

"Well, so's Brett and look how good he is," Alicia pointed out.

"Brett's...different, the whole situation is different. Brett just kind of fell into it."

"Yeah, but he didn't have to, if he didn't want to. He wanted to."

"And I'm betting Dave will too, when the time is right, Alli. Why are you so worried about it, anyway?" Elizabeth reached out for Alicia's hand.

Brett came out with Samantha then, so there was no time for Alicia to answer. But Elizabeth caught the sad and forlorn look on her face, nonetheless. She put her arms around Alicia and hugged her.

"You're so lucky, Elizabeth," Alicia whispered, and then pulled away. She went to Brett, kissed his cheek, kissed the baby, and then disappeared inside.

Elizabeth thought it was quite ironic that Alicia should think she, Elizabeth, was lucky. To get pregnant, thrown out, dumped by her boyfriend, fall in love with her brother of all people, then nearly die, well, Elizabeth thought she was probably the unluckiest person she knew. And yet, for all that she loved Brett with her entire heart, body, and soul. Even though it was a path she would not have chosen for another, it was the path she had chosen for herself.

The End

I'm considering continuing this story with the focus on Dave and Alicia's relationship. Thanks to everyone that has read, commented and voted.