Siblings with benefits

As I entered Mark's office that image was replaced by another one; Laura and I curled up the same way and whispering our love for each other. A couple of years before her, Ben making me breakfast every morning, and telling me how much he loved that I had moved in with him. Before that there was Tommy talking about moving from the condo and buying the nice house in the suburban neighborhood that I had always wanted. Where were they now? Tommy married with two beautiful little girls; that he could have never had with me, Ben last I heard was engaged, and I'm sure Laura would not spend a long time alone. On my brother's side of things last Mark had heard, Samantha had just moved in with a junior partner she had been dating and who had already given her a ring. My brother had also just brought up Krissy; three kids and a great career. Others fell for us, were broken by us, and then went on to be happy while my brother and I continued to play sick twisted games with ourselves and others. Was it because we were the only ones right for each other? Or would it mean we would just turn into each others next causality. There was no doubt my brother loved me, but was he in love, and if so how long before I would grow cold like I had with so many others?

Did either my brother or I even know what real love was? On the surface the two of us had it all. Mark was gorgeous, successful, making a ton of money and at this point was the best in the state. After six years sober I was now right up there with him, on the verge of signing a six figure deal that would more than put me on the map. Despite ten years of hardcore abuse I was fortunate enough to have maintained my own beauty. We were the people others looked at and automatically hated; the pretty people so to speak. At the end of the day however those haters had no idea what my brother and I had been through and still dealt with. There were points that I would trade my looks, and new found success to be that average looking slightly boring woman who had the devoted husband, nice little house and who could look back on years of a happy marriage rather than a past scarred by abuse and addiction.

Shaking off those thoughts, I walked over to the box and, reaching in, gingerly pulled the framed photo from the box. Taking a minute to shake it so all the loose glass would fall out I brought it over to the desk and, once I had sat down in the chair, turned it over to look at it. The picture was a family photo and at first I wasn't quite sure why Mark would throw it away until I saw that Alex Warner was in it. The photo had been taken in the back yard at the folk's. In the picture Mom and dad were sitting at the picnic table and I was standing between Mark and Warner my arms around both of them.

Mark and Alex were wearing tank tops and, I had to say, that I couldn't have been standing between two better looking guys. Mark of course was downright beautiful and honestly Warner was not far behind. Slightly shorter than Mark, Warner, who had been a golden gloves boxer in college, and who like my brother worked out for hours every day, was powerfully built with wide shoulders, a broad heavily muscled chest, and biceps so large he could barely scratch his own shoulder. Warner's body was only part of what made him attractive. Alex brother, was gorgeous with thick black hair, and perfect features, that unlike Mark's, were more rugged than pretty, and the most startling pair of electric blue eyes I had ever see. Even in the picture you could see the color all but leaping out at you. Looking at the expressions on our faces I couldn't help but smile. Mom and dad had their arms around each other and were smiling happily and Warner had that pretty smile that he could conjure up at will. As for Mark and I, the picture had caught me in the middle of laughing, and Mark had his head turned slightly towards me with a scowl on his face. Just before the picture had been snapped Warner had hugged me closer to him and had casually said;

"So Megan, this is as good a time as any to tell everyone about us."

The comment hadn't been what had made me laugh, as god only knew Warner hit on me constantly. What had made me laugh was the instant look from my brother. Mark and I both knew jealousy was an ugly emotion, but Warner got to my brother, and knew it. Personally I got a kick out of it because, besides me, Alex was the only person who was ever able to crack the aura of indifference Mark showed to everyone else. At that point in time, even before he had helped Mark out of the Max situation, Warner really had been like a member of the family. Coming over every week for the big Sunday dinners that mom always made. Warner had lost his mother at the age of eleven and his father was a workaholic, which had left Alex basically being raised by nannies. Because of that Alex loved hanging around with us and mom was more than happy to treat him as one of her own.

Ancient history now I thought as I had no doubt their friendship was over for good. Despite the fact that Mark and I shared the same beliefs Mark took the "Lex Talionis" mantra far more seriously than I did. This was probably due to the fact that, as part of my recovery, I had sought forgiveness from others and was happy to get it from those that mattered most. My brother, with the exception of his sister who had done more than her fair share to hurt him, forgave no one. It didn't matter what had happened between them as Mark always said 'what was done was done'. Warner could show up on his knees now, or ten years from now, and my brother would never forgive him.

Looking again at the picture I thought that, although Alex should have never thrown it in his face, Mark really did owe a lot to him. My brother could have never gotten away with attacking Max had it not been for Warner and his attorney. I sighed as I recalled that Warner initially wasn't going to help but, for one of the few times in my life up till that point, I had been worried about someone other than myself and had been able to convince him. Warner had been out of town the weekend Mark had beaten Max. Knowing already that my brother was in deeper shit than any lawyer the state could provide, or my father could afford would be capable of handling, I immediately called Warner while he was still in New York.

I told Alex what had really happened between Mark and Max as I realized that he would have to know the truth in order to come up with something. Alex immediately told me he would come home the next day and give him some time to make calls. Warner had called me two days later and asked me to come see him at his office. I went there nervous as hell and not just from stress, drug cravings, and lack of sleep, but because Warner and I didn't get along the best. Alex always felt I was a weak willed waste of time who was dragging my brother down, and I always thought he was a spoiled rotten silver spooned poser. I was wearing a sexy blue sundress, because I knew that whatever Alex thought of me he also thought I was hot and had propositioned me many times. I figured maybe if I looked good it would help with him listening to me.

I walked into his office and could see by the look on his face that this was not going to be easy. Warner looked nervous which was not like him. I was right, as once I had sat down, Alex had told me that he had somehow gotten to see the police reports. Alex said that after he read them he managed to get into ICU and get a look at Max. Alex had looked away and then told me that he couldn't help my brother, that anyone capable of doing that to another person needed to be kept right where he was; locked up. Before I could say anything Warner said he felt terrible for Mark, whom he had also somehow managed to get to see. I could see in his eyes that Alex wasn't lying. He did feel pity for my brother but insisted that if Mark were that disturbed then he was probably best off where he was. As I started to cry Alex took my hand across the desk and said he could get his lawyer to push the state towards temporary insanity over attempted murder so that Mark would stay in an institution rather than prison.

I had been on the verge of losing it but, somehow holding it together, I told Alex that it wasn't fair. That Max had taken my brother's childhood from him and now was going to take his future. Alex shook his head and said that no one had made Mark do what he had done. Max had not gone after him. I tried to explain to Alex that once Mark had seen Max that there was no other way it could have ended. Before he could speak I asked him if Mark had ever told him what he went through as a child. Alex said no, Mark never talked about it. I had already known that because I knew my brother never wanted anyone to know because he never wanted pity. I then proceeded to tell Warner every horror story Mark had ever told me. The beatings, not being allowed to speak, the times he was locked in the closet. Even how Max had told Mark that his sister was dead.

As I spoke I could see Warner wavering. He kept shaking his head, not telling me no, but more out of disbelief. I kept going; right up to Max putting Mark in a coma, and that he had a steel plate in his head. I pushed past that, talking about how Mark spent over two years in group homes and how he was unwanted because he had issues and wouldn't talk. Told him how the other kids picked on him; that he had been had jumped and beaten several times. I took it to the present, of how Mark still woke up screaming from nightmares, and was afraid of the dark from being locked in the closet. I finished by saying that Mark had overcome all of it and was going to be a fantastic lawyer with a great future. He deserved better than this and that animal had gotten everything he had deserved from my brother.

As I had spoken I was reminded of that night three years ago that I had begged my father to not throw Mark out when he thought he had caught us fucking in the hotel. Just as I had told dad, I now told Alex, that if Mark was taken from me he would never be okay. I was the only one who could help him. By this time Warner had his head down and I could all but hear the wheels spinning. After a long pause Warner sighed and said he still wasn't sure if he should. Now I started flat out begging, saying that I would give him anything, even try to pay him somehow.

Alex looked at me and said there was nothing he needed that he couldn't get himself. I stood up, walked over to his side of the desk, and standing in front of him, spun his chair to the side so that he was facing me. Before he could react I reached up and sliding the straps off of my shoulders let my dress drop to the floor. I was wearing an extremely skimpy light blue lace bra and a matching thong. Alex's eyes widened as he looked me up and down. Leaning over I put my hands on his shoulders and as I pushed him back into his chair whispered the word 'anything' into his ear. Warner looked me in the eye as I pulled my face from his neck, and without looking away I leaned forward and, after playfully flicking my tongue across his lips, dropped to my knees in front of him.

Still not breaking eye contact I reached around and started to unhook my bra. I was just starting to slide it off when Warner stood up in front of me. Taking what I thought was my cue; I left the bra alone and started reaching for his zipper. Warner reached down and, grabbing my shoulders, hauled me to my feet as if I were weightless. As soon as I was standing Warner had quickly bent down and, grabbing my dress from my feet, slid it back up over my shoulders. Taking this as the final rejection, I threw my arms around his neck, and resorted to pure old fashioned balling. Moaning in his ear that my brother would never leave me and I had to help him. I had gotten to the point of all out hysterics, when Alex hugged me and whispered in my ear that he would help.

I jerked suddenly as I felt the chair begin to tip over. I had been nodding off and, if not for my hand catching the desk, would have spilled out onto the floor.

"Smooth Megan." I whispered as I took a deep breath and waited for my heart to stop pounding.

Righting myself in the chair I decided to sit there and see if I would doze again. Right now I would take rest anywhere I could get it. Knowing how the insomnia game worked, I knew that if I closed my eyes and tried, sleep would elude me. However, if I let my mind wander, I might be able to slip into a doze as I had just done. Leaning back in the chair, and putting my feet up on the desk, I pulled Mark's robe tighter around me and resting my chin on my chest let my thoughts drift back to that time. After Alex agreed to help, I managed to get Mark to start talking, and within a week he was out of Butler. By then we also had found out from the hospital that Max was going to live. Knowing now, that the next step was to work together, along with Warner's attorney, to get Mark's story right Alex had let Mark and I stay with him for the two weeks until the hearing. As always, when I started to remember things that my mind had shut down, more and more began to come back to me and I recalled that while he had been helping us Alex, thanks to my stupidity as usual, had come dangerously close to finding out Mark and I's dirty secret. 1992 I woke up gasping for breath and my heart pounding. Sitting up, I looked around wildly, trying to get my bearings. For a moment I couldn't place where I was and, tossing the sweat soaked sheet from me, started to get out of the bed. I had to check and see if the door was locked. If it wasn't Frank might come in and, if he did, and I was asleep, then he would pin me down like he always did and ...

"No!" I said out loud.

Coming fully awake I sat back onto the bed and, putting my head down between my legs, took several deep breaths before sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. Looking around I remembered I was in one of the spare bedrooms in Alex Warner's huge luxury apartment located in downtown Providence. Taking one more deep breath, I held it and forcing myself to exhale slowly, tried to relax. Well relax as much as I could these days. Leaning forward, I peeled off the pink nightshirt I was wearing, and winced at the large sweat stains on it. It wasn't that warm in the house, but between the nightmare and the fact that for the last week I had been desperately craving cocaine or a drink I'd had both the sweats and the shakes.

Reaching over to the nightstand, I picked up the pack of cigarettes and fumbled one out. My hands were shaking so badly that it took three tries to light it. Tossing the bic on bed, I leaned back, and took a deep drag, gratefully inhaling the nicotine into my lungs. I realized that the pillow, like my nightgown and sheet, was soaked with sweat. Grunting in disgust I stood up and, wearing just a pair of black panties, went and sat in the small chair at the bureau. As I sat I looked at my reflection and winced. My eyes were so red that you could barely see any white around my crystal blue eyes and there were large dark circles underneath them. My complexion, which was fair to begin with, looked out right pasty and my normally beautiful soft full lips were dry and had several small cuts on them where I kept nervously chewing on them.

I rubbed at my eyes with the heel of my hands in a vain effort to stop them from stinging and let out a long frustrated sigh. I desperately needed to sleep and not just for myself but for Mark. Alex and his attorney, a man named Murdock, were trying to work with Mark on how he was going to get out of this mess but, he was in a fragile state, and things were not going well at all. Between being physically exhausted, mentally drained, and on heavy pain medication Mark was sleeping close to twelve hours a day and barely conscious the rest of the time. In addition to the broken hand, Mark had suffered a broken nose, two cracked ribs, and a fractured left eye socket. Mark also didn't seem as if he were quite there all the time either. Sometimes in mid conversation he would lapse into that "going away" state and so far I was the only one who could get him out of it.

Right now the only way it was working was me sitting next to Mark on the couch while Murdock and Alex asked my brother question after question and then told him how to answer. My job at this point, was to pretty much keep Mark focused, which wasn't easy as I was barely holding myself together. I did however, manage to stay calm whenever I was in front of Mark and, keeping my arm around him, or holding his hand and talking softly to him, could get him to respond. A couple of times when we were alone on the couch Mark had said quietly that he was to tired and didn't care anymore, that maybe he should be locked up like our father.

Whenever Mark spoke like that I would let myself start to fall apart in front of him. I would start to cry and the shakes would come on. I would tell Mark how much his sister needed him to be okay and he would snap out of it and hold me for awhile. I felt like a bitch playing him like that but I needed him to want to fight. As that last thought had gone through my head I realized that was also part of why the two of us were so bad off; we needed each other and not just emotionally. What we needed was to be together, naked, seeking the comfort of each other's bodies.

I wasn't the only one who felt that way. I could tell by the way Mark looked longingly at me when Alex wasn't around that he needed his big sister, to feel the heat of her body and fall asleep in her arms. The problem with this was that, unlike the folk's house, our bedrooms here were at opposite ends of the apartment. In order to for me to get to Mark's room I had to cut through the living room. That really wouldn't be much of a problem if Alex Warner ever slept. I used to think Mark and I were bad, but I swear Alex either didn't sleep at all, or just never in his room. The first couple of nights I didn't even try. Mark was barely conscious and any moment I was awake was spent with Warner and Murdock giving them as much history as I could about Mark and Max.

After that I tried a few times to slip out of my room, and into Mark's, but Warner was always awake; either watching television or on the phone. I would usually peek into the room and sneak back but, a couple of nights ago, Alex saw me so I simply said I couldn't sleep and sat watching a movie with him figuring I would outlast him. To my chagrin, Warner was as much of a night owl as I was, and when he did get tired, simply fell asleep on the couch less than ten feet from the room Mark was staying in. The next morning Alex had told me that unless he had a woman over, he usually would just fall asleep in front of the tv. Normally Alex would have several women over during the course of a week but, with Mark being here, and everything going on he wasn't bothering

Making my plight even worse was that Alex was working from home and was in the middle of negotiating a deal with a supplier in Japan. This meant two am conference calls that lasted for hours. Alex had an office but, for whatever reason, would still sit in the parlor. The last three nights he would be there, feet up, smoking a cigar, while watching sports center with the sound off, and talking about spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on electronics. So far the only thing I had done was go into Mark's room for a few minutes to check on him then come right back out. Last night I was so desperate, I had thought about trying to just wake Mark up and quietly have sex. I decided against it, not only because Warner was only watching television and might wonder if something was wrong, but also I needed more than the sex and so did Mark. We needed to spend the night or at least part of it together, asleep in each other's arms.

Looking up again at my haggard appearance I decided that I couldn't wait any longer. Today had been an exceptionally bad day. Mark seemed slower than usual, with more of those weird pauses before answering, and he was beginning to disagree with Murdock, citing obscure loopholes that Murdock said would never work. Mark at one point even asked Murdock where he had bought his degree. Mark fogged out again right after that, and Murdock had asked Alex where Mark was in law school because he knew lawyers who had been practicing for twenty years who had never heard of the things Mark was coming up with. When Mark had 'come back' he would not answer Murdock directly but, only respond to me, or occasionally Alex. Murdock had gotten up and told Alex that this was not going to work. That Mark was not only guilty, but was obviously not right in the head, and he shouldn't even be bothering in the first place, his reputation was on the line.