You Did What?

[GINA FAYE]

Gina hadn’t seen Brett in days. When she called or texted, he didn’t answer, which was starting to worry her. It wouldn’t be the first time that a guy suddenly lost interest in her, but that wasn’t an excuse for Brett. He was a good fucking time and he was ignoring her? Hell, no. That didn’t work for her. But while she was getting pissed, she was also getting worried. He had talked to the captain, but that was the only person he spoke to during the days he’d missed off work. He hadn’t talked to his partner, and that was what really worried her. She was afraid going to his apartment would reveal him either on death’s door sick or maybe even dead; the captain didn’t hear from him at all today. What was going on with him?

She hurried over to his apartment after work, a flurried mess of fury and worry. If he was fine, she was going to deck him in the face. Gina didn’t make it a habit to worry about the men she slept with. What had happened with Brett was something beyond her normal routine, though…way fucking beyond. And when she got sexed up that good, she didn’t like it when it was suddenly taken away. Brett was going to rue the day he humiliated her. But what if he really was sick? Well…she would stay and take care of him. She couldn’t help it; she was a softie deep down.

When she reached the man’s door, she pounded her fist against it. “Brett!” she called. “Brett, it’s Gina, open the door!” Her voice was commanding and authoritative, letting him know she wasn’t fucking around anymore. She gave him a moment, but she didn’t hear anything. “Brett, either you open the door or I’m bustin’ in, it’s up to you!” she threatened. She was much stronger than she looked, and she was going to see Brett whether he wanted to see her or not.

[brettdawson]

He groaned with the awful pounding his head was making that seemed to wake him up. God did he have an awful hangover if it was that loud. He hadn't heard Gina scream his name behind the door. Brett grabbed the bottle of Jack he'd slept with and uncapped it. He took a swig and noticed he was not hungover. He was still drunk. Well good. He gave another gulp of the burning liquor before shaking his head roughly, dog-like. He licked his lips and blinked awake completely now. He was as much aware of his surroundings as a drunk could be. He had fallen asleep on his couch, as he had for the past few days. His bedroom hadn't been touched. The lamp still lay broken in there, unless some magic was made while he slept. Two empty Smirnoff bottles were smashed to bits against a wall, while a wooden dining room chair was cracked in half in the kitchen. His TV had a hole in it, sadly, and somehow there was a long scratch-like indent in his wall. It was a line ripped into the drywall. He didn't care. He was drunk as fuck and worry free.

“Brett, either you open the door or I’m bustin’ in, it’s up to you!”

Cheyenne. The bottle of Jack hit the door, spilling it's contents and smashing into a billion pieces. It was her. She was back. No, no no. He wasn't ready to face her. To face his sister that he almost fucked. He shuddered. He replayed the sentence in his head. No.. that accent was far too familiar to him. It brought memories out. He stumbled to his feet and some how in his drunken state made it to the door. He stepped right in the shattered glass, his socks covering most of the bits. Some of it cut into him but wasn't too bad. He didn't feel anything! It was Gina. He pulled it open with a sloppy smirk. "Well hey there, sweetheart." He slurred bravely. He gestured to his mess of a condo with a wide sweep of his arm. "Welcome to my humble.. place." The motion sent his body falling back onto the wall. His broad shoulders caught him luckily. A chuckle escaped him, it was pathetic and hysterical. He looked like a mess himself, bare chested and wearing only sweatpants. He didn't smell, luckily, from the many, many showers he took. "What brings you here, babe?" he asked after closing the door after her.

[GINA FAYE]

Gina heard something shatter inside and then another something shuffling to the door. Within a minute, Brett was answering it with a smirk. “Well hey there, sweetheart.” Gina stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Was he drunk? “Welcome to my humble…place.” The gesture he made tossed him into a wall, making him laugh. No, he wasn’t drunk. He was wasted. She walked in, watching him suspiciously. What the hell was going on? “What brings you here, babe?” She narrowed her eyes as if he had just asked her what color the sky was. “Uh, you haven’t answered your phone any of the times I tried to contact you, and you haven’t been at work,” she replied. Her eyes scanned the mess that was Brett’s apartment. Her brow furrowed as she looked back at him. “I was worried about you,” she confessed. She let her eyes scan him for any bruises or cuts before seeing blood pooling under his foot. She gasped. “Brett, you’re bleedin’!” she exclaimed, going to him and grabbing his arms.

Exasperated and confused, she moved him to start getting him to his couch. Blood trailed behind his injured foot, but he hardly seemed to notice it. He hardly seemed to notice anything. When they were at his couch, she sat him down and crouched in front of him, wearing pants today. She grabbed his leg without a word and saw his sock was bloody. Gently, she pulled it off and found shards of glass stuck in his foot. Thankfully they stuck out enough that she could extract them without having to take him to the hospital. She gave a look between worried and irritated before she moved to his bathroom. “Stay there, I’m going to get some bandages,” she instructed. Quickly, she made her way to the bathroom and looked through it to find Neosporin, bandages, gauze and hydrogen peroxide. Everything she would need to patch Brett up.

She crouched in front of him again, resting his foot on her knee as her eyes wandered around his apartment. With a furrowed brow, she looked up at the man sitting half naked on the couch and frowned. “What the hell happened, Brett? Where’ve you been?” she asked in a softly demanding voice. Her fingers went to extracting the four pieces of glass stuck in his foot carefully, pulling them straight out so nothing was likely to break off and stay in his foot. Once the pieces were out, she put hydrogen peroxide on a piece of gauze and pressed it to the bottom of his foot before she grabbed the bandages.

[brettdawson]

"Work, smerk." He said in reply, waving away her concern like it was an annoying bee. It couldn't have been that long, could it? It was true, he didn't answer any calls or texts. He hardly looked at his phone. He would only answer if his partner called, because she could have info on Maxi. Though... he couldn't remember if she called or if anyone called. He could just check his phone later. Suddenly, Gina was grabbing his arms. "Brett, you're bleedin'!" He nodded as he stared down at his foot. So he was. He shrugged, attempting to blow it off as a little scratch but soon enough he was dragged to the couch. He sat down without a complaint, though he had a pout spread across his lips. He wanted more booze. "It don't hurt, babe." He tried to tell her he felt fine but she was up again, faster than Brett's brain could register. When she was gone, he quietly blinked down at his foot. He sighed, even, seeming to notice he was being a burden.

When she returned he wasn't goofy, wasted Brett. He was solemn, wasted Brett. His face sort of hung, his lips down turned and his eyes wide. His mood flipping in an instant. “What the hell happened, Brett? Where’ve you been?” And with that question his brain was back to thinking about his ridiculous life. He was oddly quiet, deciding what to tell the woman fixing him. None of her movements hurt. Maybe a pinch or two but he really couldn't feel much more. "I'm pathetic," he said softly when she was finished. He nodded slowly and sighed, the permanent frown he'd been wearing recently had returned to his face. He wiggled his fixed foot, "Thanks, Gina."

Brett then patted the seat next to him, urging her to sit down and listen. "I didn't mean to worry you," he somehow recalled her saying that earlier, "you don't want to know what I did." He shook his head before leaning it back against the couch. He slouched down so he could do this. His arms grabbing his midsection as the memories rushed back at him. "I should have put it together. She was so like me, looked like me, acted like me." He was rambling nonsense to Gina. Though it all made sense to him. He looked up at her, finding her gaze in his own drunken one. She had such pretty blue eyes.. and that hair, those perfect golden locks... "You... YOU!" He shouted, his expression turning into pure fear and shock. He looked sick. Suddenly, Brett jumped to his feet, scrambling away from the woman on the couch. He backed up into the far wall, hitting it with a painful sounding thud. Unable to hold himself up, Brett slid to the floor. He clutched his midsection harder now. Gina was amazing in bed, and so was Brett. Could she... no... not twice. She couldn't be his sister too.

"Please... please, please, please tell me you know your father."

He looked delirious, absolutely insane. "I almost fucked my sister Cheyenne, almost." No. How could his father do this to him? TWO bastard children? "You can't be my sister. I wont allow it!" He stared at her, eyes wide. The alcohol and his emotions making him trip. He was breathing hard, practically panting. A panic attack about to set in. He glanced up at a side table he had fallen next to. On top of it was a broken picture frame. He grabbed it, pulling the flimsy paper out. "Is this your father, too!?" He screamed, throwing the picture at her, or in her general direction. "Incest!" Panic set in completely now, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his arms tightened around his body. No, no, no, NO. NO!!

[GINA FAYE]

Gina waited patiently for Brett to answer. For a while he just sat there while she wrapped his foot in bandages. When she was done patching him up, she ran her hands over the bandages to make sure they were okay. “I’m pathetic.” Gina furrowed her brows up at him, cocking her head to the side slightly. What was he going on about? “Thanks, Gina.” His foot was wiggling and she was satisfied with the work she had done. He patted the seat next to him and she took it, sitting so her shoulder was pressed against his. Crazy stupid boy. She didn’t know what had happened to him, but she thought this being wasted with busted shit everywhere and skipping work this was probably an overreaction…unless his mom died or something. She was hoping he would tell her.

“I didn’t mean to worry you…” Did she say that? Well, she had to admit, even if she didn’t say it, she had acted the part. And, in truth, she had been worried about him. Even now, she was worried about that foot. “You don’t want to know what I did.” Her brow furrowed again. What the fuck did he do that was so awful? He slouched, and she rested her temple against her knuckles, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch. “I should have put it together. She was so like me, looked like me, acted like me.” She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she smirked a little as his gaze came to hers. “What, you got a daughter or somethin’?” she asked. She hoped not. Gina liked kids, they were cute, but she wasn’t a big fan for fucking around with fathers of young kids. It was too much baggage that she wasn’t keen on involving herself with. Suddenly Brett’s face turned to one of horror and almost disgust. “You…YOU!” What the fuck? “It was a joke!” she exclaimed as he scrambled to get off the couch. What was wrong with him? He looked like he had just seen a ghost. Before she knew it he was backed against a far wall and slid down to the floor.

“Please…please, please, please tell me you know your father.” Gina was looking at him like he had just grown another head. “I know who he was, but he left when I was baby,” she replied, not understanding this line of questioning. What did her father have to do with all of this? “I almost fucked my sister Cheyenne, almost.” Gina straightened, her jaw slack as she stared at him with wide eyes. “Wait…what?” she asked. How did he almost fuck his sister? What the fuck was going on? He was breathing hard, and she was on the verge of rushing over to make sure he didn’t pass out, but she didn’t want to freak him out more. His fingers fumbled for a picture frame and as he yanked the picture out, she was afraid he was going to cut himself again. “Is this your father, too?!” He tossed a picture at her, one which she assumed was his dad, and she glanced at the unfamiliar face with confusion. “What, no!” she started. “Incest!” What. The. Fuck? This guy was damaged. How was she going to calm him down? There was only one solution she could think of.

Stomping forward, she raised her fist and brought it clean across Brett’s pretty little cheek. The connection was a clear thudding noise, and it made her knuckles burn. Still, it calmed him down enough to where she could actually talk. Next she was grabbing his face and making him look at her. “Ya’ll gotta calm the fuck down if you wanna hear what I’m sayin’!” she instructed loudly. When she was sure he wasn’t going to start screaming again, she sighed and crouched in front of him. “My daddy was from Georgia. Lived his whole life there and he left me and my mama when I was just a baby. She showed me pictures, though, so I know what he looks like. He’s got brown hair and blue eyes, and he died five years ago from alcohol poisoning.” When she was done explaining, she tugged on his shoulders. “Now get up and come to the couch,” she commanded. When they were sitting on the couch once more, she stayed close so she could comfort him if he needed it. “Okay. Now tell me how you…almost fucked your sister,” she asked, feeling uneasy about this question. Please God, let them not have known they were brother and sister.

[brettdawson]

Panic. That was the only thing he could do. He was about to scream again, his eyes opening to see her marching towards him, but luckily her fist made contact. And it was hard. He blinked after the hit, his face shifted with the blow. He was surprised when she grabbed his face, all he could do was stare at her. He was already done freaking out, but her explanation was still reassuring. “My daddy was from Georgia. Lived his whole life there and he left me and my mama when I was just a baby. She showed me pictures, though, so I know what he looks like. He’s got brown hair and blue eyes, and he died five years ago from alcohol poisoning.” Due to his quick metabolism, and being a Therian, his drunken state was a level lower already. When she grabbed his shoulders and gave him that simple command he nodded, compliant. He stood, walking the few steps to his couch. His elbows rested on his knees as he hunched over slightly. His hands ran over his face, feeling embarrassed now that he was slowly sobering up. "Okay. Now tell me how you... almost fucked you sister."

He inhaled through clenched teeth, as if he'd been stung, and exhaled slowly. His hands dragged down his face as he straightened, "Well," he started, his voice slightly more clear, "I brought her home, we were..." he glanced at her, his eyes begging her not to make him say it, "you know. She pulled out a picture said we could continue if I found someone for her." He gulped, suddenly looking worn and much older than he actually was. He scratched at his stubbly chin and sighed before continuing, "It was him. I said, 'Why are you looking for my dad' and she freaked out. Then I put two and two together and voila, almost screwed my sister." He leaned back against the couch again, glancing over at her with his bloodshot eyes, judging by her reaction she was pretty grossed out. He didn't blame her, he was too.

Swallowing thickly again he managed an apology, "I'm sorry you had to see this... and fix this." He shook his head, grimacing at his pathetic actions. He laughed and it was an emotionless chuckle. His arms hung limply at his sides, and he just half laid, half sat on the couch. He was slouching again, uncaring of his appearance. "But thank you. I'm actually happy you came over... Even though you assaulted me." He grinned up at her, attempting to give a genuine smile. It was halfhearted, but at least he tried right? Randomly, and actually suddenly, his hand reached for hers. Grabbing it lightly and meshing his fingers with hers. He just had the urge to see how their hands fit together, so he did. He didn't really have a barrier set up in his head with the amount of alcohol in his brain. He watched their fingers play harmlessly, his lips shifting into a half-frown. He hoped he didn't scare her too much, he really liked Giina. Hopefully she could see past his actions today. It saddened him to think about losing her too. He blurted out, "Oh. And my best friend is missing as well. Can't leave that out can we?" His voice sounded dead, lifeless. Different from his panic'd tone of late. Might as well tell her everything.

________________________

sorry if it's bad... sdlgjdflkg D:

[GINA FAYE]

Brett sucked in a pained breath and Gina looked at him worriedly. It must have been really hard to talk about, not that she could blame him. If she had a brother and almost fucked him…she cringed just thinking of it. She listened patiently, though, apprehensive for his answer. “Well…I brought her home, we were…” Gina felt an inexplicable pang as Brett admitted he brought another woman home. She was convinced she was all one man needed, but she couldn’t blame him. Gina forgot that pang when he gave her that pleading look, her brow turning upward. “…you know. She pulled out a picture and said we could continue if I found someone for her.” He looked so…worn. Gina put a hand on his shoulder. Poor thing. “It was him. I said, ‘Why are you looking for my dad’ and she freaked out. Then I put two and two together and voila, almost screwed my sister.” She gave a little grunt, shaking her head. Damn, that sucked. That was one sad situation right there.

“I’m sorry you had to see this…and fix this.” The woman shook her head, watching him with pitying eyes. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for,” she assured quietly. “But thank you. I’m actually happy you came over…Even though you assaulted me.” Gina gave a soft laugh, seeing that he was trying to be more light-hearted. He wasn’t completely successful, but it was a good try. Out of nowhere, though, he grabbed her hand, making her eyes grow wide and look down to his fingers weaving with hers. She looked to his handsome face, her heart skipping a little. She was a little wary to have his hand in hers, but…God, he was a mess. Her fingers fit into his gently and she watched as their hands played against one another. She could let her guard down…just this once. Gina sank back into the couch, too, leaning against his shoulder lightly. It was strange how nice it felt to be like this with him. Half of her wanted to pull away, keep the distance she always kept between herself and men, but the other half of her, the stronger half, wanted to stay and enjoy this gentle affection. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed something so simple as holding hands.

“Oh, and my best friend is missing as well. Can’t leave that out can we?” She looked at his face again, surprised and pitying. “Oh, Brett, I’m so sorry. I…I shouldn’t’ve been as mad as I was comin’ over here,” she said softly. She swallowed hard and then sank down more in the couch. Her head rested against his shoulder as she said in silence, her free hand rubbing over the back of the hand holding hers. Her fingers gently ran along his skin, knowing there was a calming quality to someone’s fingers tickling along your skin. It was the most affectionate she had been with anyone in a long time. As they sat in silence, Gina with her head on his shoulder and her hand in his, a phone started going off on the coffee table. It made Gina jump and she pulled away from Brett, glancing at the phone. The name on the caller ID was Maxi. Who was Maxi? Gina was going to be angry again if he had another girl he was fucking. For herself, Gina preferred to sleep with one man at a time. She didn’t do relationships, but she was monogamous as long as she was fucking a man, and she liked when the man she was with was the same. Her and Brett hadn’t had that conversation, though, and she wouldn’t bring it up now.