Shooting in Hannah - Version Bravo

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Chapter Twelve

I heard warning in her voice when she told me to tell her everything. I know that sounds silly, considering the circumstances, but I decided to take her at her word and started again, trying to think of how things happened, and in what order.

"We had never kissed," I said. "We started doing that and it just got worse. Then one night she put her mouth on me ... to find out if she'd puke or not."

"And, of course, you wanted to know if you'd puke or not if you returned the favor," said Phoebe.

"I didn't think I'd puke," I said, weakly.

"And after that there was nothing else to try except having intercourse," said Phoebe.

"We were still resisting that," I insisted. "But Hannah had a friend, and they got drunk one night at a sleepover and the girl talked about all the things she did with her brother."

"Let me guess. They were having sex."

"Yes."

"So it didn't seem so aberrant for the two of you to have sex."

I sighed.

"I'll be honest. Even if we hadn't known about Janet and Todd, I think we'd still have ended up where we did. I don't think we used Janet and Todd to rationalize things until after they'd already happened. We got closer and closer ... emotionally."

"I suppose that doesn't surprise me, either," said Phoebe. "I never had a man who listened to me, did only what I wanted him to, cared about my feelings and loved me like that. If I had known when I was sixteen what I know now, I'd have killed to find a man like that. You fell in love, Bob, and so did she. You weren't supposed to, but you did."

"I agree," I said. "I still think of her as my sister, but she's so much more than that. It's almost like she's two different people who inhabit the same body."

"Believe it or not, but that makes me feel a little better," said Phoebe.

"What made me feel better was that things happened that were out of our control," I said.

"Such as?"

"One fourth of July some relatives came to visit and Mom made Hannah move into my room, temporarily. She was supposed to get my bed and they put a cot in there for me."

"Good grief," said Phoebe. "Talk about throwing gasoline on a fire."

"Sort of. Except they didn't know there was a fire. But something else happened, too."

"What?"

"While Mom was getting Hannah's room ready for the guests, she found Hannah's dildo."

"Oh my," sighed Phoebe.

"Yes, and that led to her putting Hannah on the pill."

"And that," said Phoebe, "made it easier to go even farther."

"I went out of order. When they put us in my room together, we got fired up and that's when she went to get her dildo from her room. The grownups were playing Bridge. That's when she found out it wasn't there, but we didn't know who took it. So that first night we were in my room, she didn't feel like doing anything. She was too worried about her dildo. We slept together, in the same bed, I mean, but nothing happened. Except I hugged her."

Phoebe closed her eyes.

"I can imagine that," said Phoebe. "You were sweet to comfort her."

"But the next morning when we woke up, I guess she wasn't as worried. Waking up with somebody naked is really different than just waking up like you have all your life, alone. So we started kissing and actually, the first time my ... penis ... went inside her it was an accident. I mean we didn't intend for it to go in her, but we were kissing and she was wiggling around and ... it just happened."

Phoebe stood up and went to the kitchen. When she came back she had a glass of orange juice. Her brow was furrowed. When she sat down she looked at me for a few seconds.

"I didn't intend to lose my virginity when it happened, either," she said. "A boy named Rodney did, though. Intend to do it, I mean. I thought we were just fooling around, but he got ... aggressive."

"Shit," I said, softly. "He raped you?"

"I can't honestly say it was rape. I didn't want him to do it, but I also didn't try to make him stop. I tell myself I was too scared to resist, but to be honest, that's probably not true. I was frightened, but I was also, as you call it, fired up."

"I'm sorry," I said.

She tilted her head and examined me.

"You mean that. I think that's one reason why I feel as strongly about you as I do. You're compassionate. You care about people and how they feel."

"I guess," I said, feeling a little embarrassed for some reason.

She blinked.

"Go on. The first time was an accident."

"Yeah, and when we went to breakfast we were both terrified that the grownups would know, somehow, what had happened."

I reached for her orange juice and took a sip, to wet my mouth. Then I realized that I had just shared her glass, without even a how do you do.

"Sorry," I said. "I should have asked."

"I'm pretty sure you don't have cooties," she said.

I remember smiling, and realizing that it was the first time I'd smiled since she caught me thrusting my prick up into my sister. I went on.

"Anyway, that was the fourth, and we went on a picnic and watched fireworks. That was when Mom got Hannah off on a walk and they talked about the dildo and going on the pill and all that."

"Let me guess. That night you did it again." She blinked. "Intentionally."

"Yeah," I said. "After that we kind of went crazy."

Phoebe tilted her head and examined me again.

"You said 'we'."

I was confused at her stipulation. It must have showed.

"You said you both went crazy. You didn't blame it all on her."

"Of course not," I said. "Why would I do that?"

"That's what Rodney did to me. After that first time, every time we went out he wanted to have sex. He was very insistent about it, whether I wanted to or not. In fact there were times when I said we shouldn't, but he didn't care. Then, when I got pregnant, he said it was all my fault because I was a slut and couldn't keep my legs closed."

"Shit, Phoebe," I sighed. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I know now I was a fool. My mother even warned me about him, but I wouldn't listen. I thought I was in love."

"You can't blame yourself," I said. "We both know how tumultuous puberty is. We run into that every day at school."

"I appreciate that. I think I did blame myself, at least to some degree. I understood better what happened, later, but you can understand why my perceptions about men might have changed."

"Of course."

"Which is why I never let a man get close to me again until I met you."

I thought I knew where she was going.

"And then I hurt you again. Phoebe I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

"Oh, I'm fully aware of that," she said. "And as odd as it may sound, I believe that. That said, though, had it been any woman other than Hannah I caught you with, we wouldn't be having this conversation. But it was Hannah, and something deep inside me demanded that I try to find the meaning in it. I did open up to you, Bob, and I felt so free, so happy. I didn't want to lose that again."

"Thank you," I said. "For giving me a chance to explain, I mean."

"Don't thank me," she said. "Thank your sister. When she told me about her husband being sterile and that they both agreed to have you father her children, I thought I'd faint dead away. But she was so passionate in the telling. She cried and begged me not to just toss you away. She said you needed me and that it was all her fault, that she seduced you and manipulated you."

"That's not true," I said. "Nobody manipulated anybody."

"I wondered about that," she said. "That's why I wanted to hear your side of it. Even as short a time as I've known Hannah, I didn't think she was that kind of woman."

"Wow. I'm going to kick her butt for saying that," I said.

"No you're not."

Suddenly it seemed we had nothing to talk about, and there was a long, uncomfortable silence. I finally broke it.

"There's more, I guess. Do you want to hear the rest?"

Phoebe looked around, almost as if she was surveying the room we were in. Finally she looked at me.

"I don't think so. I think I understand how this happened."

The question had to be asked.

"So ... what now?"

"I don't know."

I sat there. I couldn't think of anything else to say. Phoebe didn't have that problem.

"Except that you need to get this business with Hannah finished. Then maybe we can decide where to go from there."

Phoebe had delivered that last comment almost casually, like someone saying, "Oh, and I need to pick up the dry cleaning on the way home." She said it as she got up and took the orange juice glass back to the kitchen. I heard water running as she rinsed it out.

I examined that comment while she was gone. "Finish" could be interpreted in two ways that I could think of. It either meant finish as in end it where things currently stood or ... incomprehensibly ... finish it by achieving Hannah's goal of having her second child.

I'll be honest and admit I didn't want to have to call Hannah and tell her it was over, and that she'd just have to find some other guy to knock her up, so I could try to salvage my relationship with Phoebe. I didn't want to 'finish' it that way. But it was pretty difficult for me to imagine a scenario in which Phoebe would stand back and let me keep fucking my sister to 'finish' it the other way.

When Phoebe came back she plopped down on the couch again and leaned her head back.

"I'm tired," she said.

"Me, too."

"I should leave, but I don't want to."

"I don't understand that," I admitted. "I was amazed that you even talked to me again, and astonished that you stayed to listen to everything I told you."

Her head came up.

"I want to tell you something."

"Please."

"You're a good teacher. I've always thought you were a decent man. I still do, even though I couldn't win a debate on why I feel that way. I looked into your classroom earlier today and you were in a conference with two parents."

"I saw you at the door," I said.

"I knew there had to be a lot on your mind, just like there was a lot on mine. But there you were, paying attention to those parents, working with them towards a good future for their child."

"It's our job," I said.

"Yes, but you rose above your troubles to do it. A lot of people would have blown it off and concentrated on their own problems."

"I guess."

"It was then that I decided I didn't want to just toss you away like a soiled tissue."

"I'm glad," I said. "I'm really sorry for the things I did."

"No, you aren't," she said, staring at me. "I don't think you're sorry that you loved Hannah and still do."

"You're right," I said. "But I am sorry that it caused you pain."

"Men and women in relationships cause each other pain all the time, Bob. It's inevitable. If the relationship is strong enough, it will survive. Pressure really can make diamonds."

"Most relationships don't survive that kind of pressure," I said.

"You're right. That's the problem. I'm mad as hell at you for not being the untarnished knight in shining armor I thought you might be, but it is impossible for me to think of what you did with Hannah as cheating. Like I said, if it had been some random woman I'd have walked out and never come back. But I can't blame you for loving your sister, and I can't ask you to stop loving her, even if that love is expressed in a way most people would say was wrong."

I bit the bullet and asked the question I was afraid I wouldn't like the answer to.

"So what do you mean when you say I have to finish things with Hannah?"

"I have to talk to her before I can answer that."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Good. Part of me wants you to go through what I went through for the last ten hours."

I figured I deserved that, at a minimum, so I let it go.

"You want to go get something to eat?"

"No, I'm tired."

"You want to go home?"

"I believe I already said I don't." She gave me a gentle glare.

"So what do you want to do?"

She stood up.

"I want to go to bed." She put her hands in her pockets. "With you," she added softly.

I thought she was teasing me. Well, not teasing. Torturing, maybe. There was no way in the world I could believe she wanted to have sex with me. She stood there, just looking at me.

"I don't think you really want to do that," I finally said.

"It's not for sex. I just don't want to leave and I don't want to sleep on the couch."

"I can sleep on the couch," I offered.

"I don't want you to sleep on the couch, either."

"I don't understand," I moaned.

"I'm remembering the part of your story where your Mom found Hannah's dildo and she was worried about it. You slept together that night and all you did was comfort her. I need to be comforted, Bob."

"Wow." I was astonished.

"Do you think we could do that?"

"Sleep together and not have sex? Sure. I'm actually elated at the prospect," I said. It was true. I felt like I had escaped from the lion's jaws.

"We'll see," she said.

"This is a test," I said, having a sudden epiphany. "Isn't it?"

"Maybe," she said. "But it isn't to test you. It's to test me."

To say it was odd, lying there together on my bed, both of us fully clothed, is like saying stabbing a screwdriver through your hand hurts.

I didn't know how to comfort her. At first we lay on our backs, but the tension was too much for me. Everything felt artificial. I rolled on my side to face her.

"I don't know how to comfort you," I said.

"I don't know what I want," she replied, not helping a bit.

"Do you have any idea why you're still here?"

"You mean here as in bed with you or here as in still talking to you?"

"Both, I guess," I said. She rolled to face me. There were maybe six or eight inches between us.

"Before you came along, I had gone out on exactly one date after I had Chris. I thought he was a decent guy. He thought I was horny because I hadn't had a man in years. After that one I decided I would be alone for the rest of my life. Then you wormed your way in under my defenses. I liked you. But then all this happened and it was like a confirmation that I can't have a normal relationship with a normal man. I seem to keep choosing the wrong man, like one of those women who is abused, gets out of the relationship and then gets into a new one with another abuser."

"There's nothing wrong with you," I said. "It's not your fault that men screw things up."

"I know that," she said. "But when I talked to Hannah I understood that my life isn't the only one that got all screwed up. She tried to find happiness only to end up in a bizarre situation where she had to ask her brother to father her children. And I got that. As crazy as it seems I understood her decisions perfectly. I know what it's like to desperately want to have a home and a husband and a family."

"You do have a family," I said. "Chris is a great kid."

"Don't be an ass," she said. "You know what I mean."

"Okay, I do. This may not be what you want to hear, but there were times , when I was a teenager, when I desperately wished I could marry Hannah and raise a family together."

"Okay, that's just weird," said Phoebe.

"And fathering my sister's children so they can be raised by another man isn't?"

"Does that bother you?"

"No. Austin's a great guy and he's a wonderful father. But he gets the gold ring. He gets Hannah. All I can do is love her from afar."

"Unless she's here, in this bed, trying to make another baby."

"If she told you everything you know that's actually rare. We don't do anything except when she's actually trying to get pregnant. Why do you think I asked you out? I want a normal life, too. I want to have what Austin has."

"Austin does not have a normal life," said Phoebe. "I understand you having feelings for Hannah, but I can't understand why he'd allow her to have feelings for you."

"I don't think they came to that decision easily," I said. "They couldn't afford to do it any other way."

"Don't be naive. Cost may have been one factor, but she wants to have your babies. She admitted that to me."

"Only because she can't have Austin's," I argued.

"I want to believe that," she said. Something in her voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because if we stay together ... if ... we stay together, I'm not going to want to be the other woman in your life."

My mind whirled in a way that's difficult to describe. Up to this point my life, and the romantic relationships in it had been decidedly abnormal. I'd gotten used to that and had, in some unfathomable way, decided my life was normal. I mean my relationship with Hannah had morphed into something that felt normal. But I knew, deep down inside, that it wasn't. There was no "future" between me and Hannah. She belonged to Austin.

Now, here I was with the only woman I had become involved with in what could be called a normal relationship. There had been a future with Phoebe, at least until my abnormal relationship with my sister had been exposed. I had thought that was lost, but Phoebe's actions suggested it might not be all in the toilet. I knew I couldn't change the way I felt about Hannah, but the thought of being able to grab my own gold ring someday, of being with Phoebe like Austin was with Hannah, made me feel something primal inside that was worth fighting for.

I just didn't know how to fight for it.

"I want us to stay together," I finally said. I reached to touch her arm. "I know I don't deserve you, but I don't want to lose you."

She scooted toward me a little and her hand touched my hip. Little by little we edged together, until my arm was around her. She put her head in my chest and a minute later I realized she was crying.

All I could do was hold her. I couldn't think of anything to say.

I have no idea how long we were like that before we fell asleep ... but eventually we did.

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