Chapter 4: Immunity

After the CDC functionary had departed, my mother fled the room. I could hear her throwing up loudly in the next room; after she finally fell silent, the shower started up. I knew that, for the moment, we were able to have a private conversation. Looking over to my sister I asked, simply "What do we do now?"

She looked every bit as lost as I felt. Tears welled up in her eyes, and I reached out to comfort her; she flinched as I gave her a reassuring hug, obviously ill at ease with the intimacy. "I didn't ... err, that is, I ... umm..." I trailed off, lamely. Getting my thoughts in order, I tried again "I do love you, you know."

She stiffened slightly. I feared I had said the wrong thing, but she then relaxed, snuggling into my embrace. "I know," she whispered. "I just didn't think it was like this." Perhaps because of the close contact we were in, perhaps because over the past three weeks I had grown so used to being aroused by my sister's touch, I began to grow erect. I tried desperately to conjure mental images to quieten it, but all I could think of was my sister, drenched in sweat and crying out as an orgasm swept through her.

The tent being pitched in my pants became painful, and apparently quite visible. Stacey giggled, causing her breasts to shake; they were hard enough for me to keep my eyes away from at the best of times, now, but I did my best not to stare. She followed my gaze, however, then smiled, blinking away her tears.

"So," she breathed huskily, turning to face me. "You love me, do you? How much?"

My mind crunched to a halt. Whatever reaction I had been expecting, it was hardly this; I had thought she would be repulsed by what had happened, the way our mother had. "I ... I'm sorry, Stacey."

At this, she iced over, eyes blazing with cold fury. "Oh? Sorry, are we? You weren't sorry three hours ago, when you screamed my name and begged to be allowed to come in me."

She stormed out of the room. What the hell was that? She was acting like... finally, my brain caught into gear. I leapt off the couch as the logical outcome slowly dawned on me. She was acting like a girlfriend looking to take a relationship to the next step, only to be cruelly denied.

Rushing up the stairs, I halted outside her room. I could hear her crying inside, obviously upset. I knocked on the door, timidly. "Stacey? It's me. Can I come in?"

Something hit the door. "Fuck off!" she sobbed. I ignored her, opening the door carefully, ready to dodge whatever she might throw next. She was sitting in the middle of her bed, hugging a pillow tightly. Her hair was a mess, and her face was blotchy with anger and tears. I closed the door quietly, inching across the room to settle down beside her on the bed.

"I didn't mean it that way, Stacey. I just ... it was good for me, you know? You're beautiful. I enjoyed every second of it. I was just afraid you thought it was wrong, or that you were joking, or ... or, I don't know what."

I stumbled towards the end of that confession, not wanting to say more in case I upset her more. Sniffling, she stopped crying. "Really?"

"Really really," I said, turning to face her. I bought one leg up onto the bed and caught her hands in my own, clasping them tightly. "I love you Stacey. Always have, always will. But this-" I gestured, aimlessly after disentangling one hand "-is all a bit new. In the outside world, they won't understand. They'll think it's wrong."

She pouted, withdrawing into herself again. "And why should we care what they think?"

I pondered her words, carefully trying to piece together an answer that wouldn't offend her. "I don't. Not if you don't. But ... but if we keep going, we're going to have to be careful."