A Christmas To Remember 10

This is my entry for the

Winter Holidays Story Contest 2023

. Please check out the other entries, too.

Squick alert: Contains incest.

All participants in sexual activity are 18+. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, and events is entirely coincidental and completely unintentional.

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The first thing I noticed was the beeping. Steady, insistent, annoying.

The second thing I noticed was the thing taped to my face and shoved down my throat. My vision was blurry, like looking through one of those sheer privacy panels they use for curtains. I could see colors and basic shapes but no details. I tried to move but couldn't, almost passing out from the pain in my chest and shoulder. My head started to pound and my vision became even blurrier.

"Hey, Mike, honey. Relax. It's okay, you're in the hospital." The voice was familiar but it took me a second to place it. My mother.

The hospital. Dee. Oh, God, no. Please, no. The beeping noises became quicker and an alarm sounded. I couldn't breathe, it felt like I was going to choke to death.

My last memory before waking up here was of sitting at the intersection of State Roads 282 and 175 at the traffic light. I was driving my younger sister Diana's Mustang, she was riding shotgun. Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer" was cranked up on the stereo and we were dancing in our seats right along with it. We had been headed to the pizza place she liked for her 21st birthday celebration with some friends. The light turned green and our friend Dave's Honda Civic started through the intersection...and that's where my memory ended.

I tried to sit up but couldn't. I think I passed out from the pain because when I was conscious again, there were nurses and a doctor in the room, I heard them more than saw them. My mother's voice was off to the right, "Relax, Mike. Don't try to move."

I tried to wave my hand to get her attention to ask about Dee. I needed to know if she was all right and I wanted to know right now. I felt somebody grab my hand and squeeze it. My mother again, "Please try to stay still, Mike."

Out of frustration, I started slamming my hand into the mattress, trying to get her attention. A face appeared in front of mine, looking into my eyes. I guess I finally got through.

"Diana's okay, honey. Please try to rest, okay? She'll be here in a little bit, after the doctor is done." Her tone was different now. I couldn't put a name to it but it was definitely different. She gave my hand another squeeze and her regular tone was back, "You're going to be okay, honey. Everything's going to be okay."

I felt my father's presence in the room, behind my mother. "Hey, son. It's Dad. Hang in there, okay?" I gave him a thumbs up. He sounded worried and relieved at the same time. I hurt in so many places that I couldn't keep track of them. I could feel myself fading again. I tried to stay conscious but it was a losing battle.

I had no idea how long I was out that time. When I woke up, it was just me and Mom. I moved my hand to get her attention and she leaned over to look at my face. I did the best I could to give her a questioning look, given that I had a contraption taped to the bottom half of my face.

"She's downstairs, getting something to eat. She'll be back in a few minutes." My vision was a little better now, her face wasn't totally clear but I could recognize her. I nodded and tried to lay still as best I could. I didn't want to pass out again before I could see her.

It felt like forever, although I had no idea of how long it actually was before Dee came back. Mom met her at the door and there was a whispered conversation, punctuated by a "Do you understand me, Diana?" My sister whispered something back, it sounded defiant, maybe just a little petulant.

My vision was getting fuzzy again but I recognized her face as Dee bent over the side of the bed and kissed my forehead. "Thank God you're awake, Mike. I was so worried." I heard Mom make a noise and Dee turned to look at her. "Okay!" Obviously directed at Mom. I was starting to sense some tension between the two of them.

She pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down. Sliding her hand under the side rail, she grabbed my hand and held it. Mom muttered something that sounded like "I'll be right back, Diana. Remember what I said."

Dee waited until Mom left before she stood up and moved so she could look into my eyes. I couldn't make out her face clearly but she seemed concerned. "Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need a nurse?"

I shook my head no. I hurt in a few places but it was bearable now. I felt lightheaded and guessed that the morphine pump had kicked in at some point. I gave her a questioning look and she answered, "Yes, I'm okay. I didn't get hurt." Her voice sounded sad.

I fell asleep shortly thereafter. I just couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. It was dark when I woke up again, Dee was slumped in the chair next to the bed, still holding my hand. I must have moved when I woke up because she jerked, asking "Mike? You okay?"

I squeezed her hand. She leaned over and kissed the side of my face, next to my eye socket. "Good. Just rest, okay?" I gave her hand another squeeze.

I tried again to remember what happened to me. I would only get to the point where we were starting to pull into the intersection and then nothing until I woke up here. With the breathing tube, I couldn't speak and my arm movement was limited, so I couldn't write. I was going to have to wait until I had some way to communicate to find out what happened to me.

It wasn't until much later that I found out how long I was in the ICU. The morphine pump kicked in every four hours like clockwork and it would put me out for a while. Almost every time I came to, Dee was there. When she wasn't, Mom was.

The day finally came when they removed the breathing and feeding tubes. My throat felt like it had been fucked with a cactus. Thankfully, they waited until the morphine knocked me out to change my catheter. I asked that they wait until I was out to remove it, too. I didn't want that kind of trauma to my psyche.

After the tubes were out, I found out what happened. The day had started out normal enough. Around six, I took Dee to the mall to meet up with some friends, the girls did a bunch of shopping, and then we headed to the pizza place.

Dave, Mandy, and Mindy found a parking spot up front but we had to pull into the rear parking lot. Video footage showed us parking the car, we sat for a few minutes, then got out and went into the restaurant. About 90 minutes later, it shows all five of us leaving, splitting up just outside the front door with handshakes and hugs. Dave and the girls headed toward their car and we started walking toward the back lot.

We were walking slowly with our arms locked together, apparently talking, when a figure stepped out from behind a couple of dumpsters. I moved between the figure and Dee, left arm up with my palm facing out. The figure moved out into the light and it was pretty plain he was holding a gun. He was obviously jumpy and nervous. I did my best to keep myself between him and Dee, who was digging through her purse. She put the purse into my right hand and as I brought it around to give it to him, all hell broke loose.

On the video, I could see the gun come up and there were three quick flashes. I fell backward into Dee, and both of us ended up on the ground. I had dropped the purse when he started firing, he picked it up and ran towards the back of the lot and out of view of the camera.

Dee managed to extricate herself from under me as people came running from the restaurant. A man, who I later found out was an off-duty EMT, helped me as best he could until the ambulance got there. Dave and the girls tried to comfort Dee while they loaded me up into the ambulance. A cop escorted Dee to her patrol car and they left immediately after the ambulance.

None of it rang any bells. The detectives took another statement from Dee, who said she really didn't have anything to add to her initial statement. She thought the robber sounded familiar but she couldn't place a name to the voice.

Apparently, the first responding officer recognized our names and he called on his cell phone to the station desk sergeant. The deputy chief was called and he hauled ass down to the station to break the news to my father, who was the watch commander. He drove Dad to the hospital himself.

The cop also called the ER to give them a heads-up that I was coming in. The ER doc pulled Mom aside to break the news to her. A nurse's aide was assigned to keep Mom out of the ER until I was stabilized. Mom knew the protocol, she helped write it. I can't imagine what that must have felt like, knowing your child was on his way in with gunshot wounds and you can't do anything about it.

I didn't get to see video footage from the ER but from what I was told and what I overheard, it went something like this:

As I was being unloaded from the ambulance, a blood-covered Dee came flying through the entrance and into the ER. An aide tried to stop her, she kneed the poor guy in the groin and headed right toward the trauma suite. By that time, Dad had gotten there and he intercepted her with a bear hug from behind before she could breach the doors. I overheard one of the nurses tell another nurse that Dee's scream just echoed throughout the ER and it was heartbreaking to the point of making her cry. At the same time, Mom came flying out of the conference room where they had asked her to stay. Dad collected her with his other arm and dragged them both screaming and crying back into the conference room.

They had Dee sedated and moved to one of the regular ER treatment bays to examine her. Police came and went, they collected our clothes as evidence, they tried to talk to Dee, and tried to console my parents.

As soon as they figured out I wasn't going to die, the ER doctor came out to talk to Mom and Dad. I had been hit three times with small caliber rounds, once in the right upper chest, once in the left shoulder, and a grazing wound to the left side of my head, just above my ear. I had a skull fracture and some brain swelling so they were going to induce me into a coma to keep me from moving around too much. The chest wound and shoulder wound weren't life-threatening, no vital organs had been hit except the right lung, which had partially collapsed and was reinflated easily.

They hooked me up to what seemed to be every medical machine known to man and parked me in the ICU. After a week, the doctors felt the pressure on my brain had decreased enough that they could let me wake up. I was breathing okay on my own but they left me hooked up to the respirator just in case.

I swear I was examined by every doctor in the state. I wasn't allowed out of bed, although I didn't have to use a catheter anymore, I could use one of the urinal thingies or a bedpan. My vision sucked, it was blurry more than clear for the longest time. I still had random dizzy spells. Fortunately, the pain finally eased up enough that I could get off the morphine. I had to have a couple of enemas because of the morphine-induced constipation. I swore I'd never take that stuff again after that. Apparently, the staff had already heard every single Muppet joke at least twice so my attempts to diffuse my awkwardness with humor fell flat.

The good news was that my chest wound and shoulder wound would heal without much in the way of residual effects. I'd have some restricted range of motion in that arm but they felt that the chest wound would heal without incident or disability. The brain swelling had gone down. The memory loss should only be temporary, although it was likely that I wouldn't remember being shot at all. They couldn't be absolutely sure but they felt that most of my memory should return over the course of a few months.

The bad news was that the tension between Dee and Mom continued to get worse. Some days, they didn't speak to each other at all. Dad tried to keep them apart but when one of them is an ER nurse who worked there, it wasn't always possible. I stayed in a regular room for another week just for observation. Aside from the blurry vision and dizzy spells, they felt I was good to go home.

My older sister Samantha was in Germany for the summer on a work exchange program. Since hers was the only bedroom downstairs, I ended up there because they didn't want me on any stairs until my dizziness and vision improved. When Mom found out Dee was planning on staying in the same room with me, things went to hell in a hurry.

I could only hear part of the argument before Mom pulled her into my parents' bedroom and closed the door. "Diana, no. I won't allow it." Mom was not happy.

"What if he falls, Mom? Do you even fucking care?" Dee was angry, almost shouting.

"How dare you. Don't you ever speak to me like that again, Diana. You know damn well I care, it's just not right. He can manage on his own." Mom's voice went up an octave.

"He's not that steady yet, Mom. I don't want him to get hurt more if he falls." Dee's voice was less aggressive but just as loud as before.

"We both know that's not what this is about so don't try to bullshit me." I couldn't hear Dee's response as I heard the door close. Dee came back into Sami's room a few minutes later, still pissed about something.

"You know, I can manage on my own, Dee."

"She's not going to tell me what to do. I'm staying down here with you, whether she likes it or not."

"It's her house, so yeah, she can. What's going on with you two, anyway?"

She gave me a strange look, part surprise and part sadness. "We can talk about that later, Mike. Don't worry about it for now, just work on getting better."

It was a couple of days after returning home that I remembered the ring. We had gone to the mall for something or the other right after New Year's and she had spotted this ring in one of the jewelry store windows. It was a ruby ring, obviously a one-of-a-kind piece as it was very intricate. Dee loved rubies, they complimented her dark hair and eyes. We went inside to look at it. I knew at first sight she couldn't afford it, I tried to tell her but she just had to find out for herself. It was well out of her price range. Unfortunately, that didn't stop her from trying it on. It fit perfectly.

I managed to catch the clerk's eye and made a motion for her to save it. Dee was looking down at the ring and I don't think she saw my signal or the clerk's barely perceptible affirmative nod. I went back the next afternoon and bought it, planning on giving it to her for her birthday. After reluctantly surrendering the ring, she was unhappy for quite a while afterward. She really loved that ring.

It was expensive. It's not like I didn't have the money, though. I had a decent part-time job while going to school, I made enough to cover what my scholarship didn't and still saved quite a bit of money. I didn't spend much on myself, I drove an old beater, wore simple clothes from Walmart and Target, and I didn't drink much or do drugs. It was just a thing I did, buying my sisters something special, meaning expensive, for their birthday and for Christmas.

I could remember having it with me but not what I did with it. I finally worked up the nerve to ask her about it. She cried as she explained that the guy who robbed us had taken it along with her purse. Mom and Dad weren't happy about the ring at all, especially when they found out its value. Mom and Dee ended up in yet another heated conversation behind closed doors, which Dee wouldn't discuss. Mom kept going between friendly and distant with me. I was beginning to wonder if maybe I had said something I shouldn't have while under the influence of morphine or anesthesia.

Mom and Dad both worked the graveyard shift, so they slept during the day. Most of the time, they were asleep by the time I got up in the morning. That morning was no different. Dee insisted on helping me walk to the bathroom so I could go, take care of brushing my teeth, run an electric shaver over my face, and take a bath of sorts. My wounds still hadn't quite healed completely and they didn't want me getting them wet just yet so showers were out.

Dee usually waited just outside the bathroom door, which I had to keep unlocked in case I needed help. The first two days had gone off without a hitch, no problems whatsoever with doing what I needed to do. That streak came to an end on the third day.

I suppose I should have known something bad was going to happen. First off, I woke up with a raging case of morning wood. That hadn't happened since I was shot. All I had on were boxers, meaning there was no hiding what was going on inside them. I knew Dee saw it. I tried to pretend it wasn't there and she had the decency to go along with the charade.

Second, I woke up feeling fuzzy, like my balance and cognitive function were just a little off. I tried to work through it and succeeded up until the point where I was trying to wash my crotch and armpits. Summer in Illinois is hot and humid. Even in refrigerated air, somehow my crotch and armpits still got sweaty and therefore smelly. The simple act of trying to lift one leg and move my arm caused me to lose my balance and I fell backward, into the wall. I slid down into the sitting position just as Dee came bursting in the door.

"Jesus Christ, Mike, are you okay? Are you hurt?" She was frantic, her words coming at a million miles per hour.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just lost my balance." I was trying to cover my groin the best I could. I was still mostly hard.

"Let me help you up." She held out her hands for me to grab but I kept mine in my lap, trying to hide my boner.

"Nah, I'm good. I can get up on my own. You might want to wait outside, though." I could feel my face turning red. I'm buck ass naked in front of my sister and she won't take the hint.

"No. Gimme your hands."

"I can't." It was more of a stutter than a statement.

"Why?" The thought crossed my mind that she might be fucking with me somehow.

"I don't have underwear on." That sentence was hard to choke out. There was absolutely no way she could have missed that fact.

"Why not? What were you doing?" I could only stare at her. Being naked in the bathroom usually means one of two things, I'm bathing or jerking it. I was trying to do the former and it probably looked like I was engaged in the latter.

"Trying to take a bath."

"Oh. Stand up, I'll help you." She was being very matter-of-fact, despite my obvious embarrassment.

"I got this --"

"Bullshit, why are you on the floor then? Get your ass up so I can help you --", she reached down to grab my right arm to help me up, pulled it away from my crotch, and froze when she saw my hard-on. "Get up."

The silence was awkward. I could see in the mirror that her gaze kept drifting back to my cock, which was now bobbing merrily away to its own internal beat. Her nipples were jutting out, visible through the T-shirt.

"Did you already do your upper body?" She barely whispered the question. Our eyes locked in the mirror.

I could only nod. She kept rubbing her thighs together, I could see her hips shifting in the mirror as she went back and forth. There was a little bead of liquid forming on the tip of my dick, now painfully erect from looking at her hard nipples in the mirror. We were both breathing heavily and she kept running her tongue over her lips.

I noticed her hand shaking as she slid it palm up under the faucet and squirted a dollop of soap into her palm. My cock jumped as she slowly slid her hand around the base, lightly soaping my balls before washing the areas where my legs joined my torso. She then wet a washcloth and cleaned up the soapy residue, while I watched my dick do acrobatics in the mirror. She avoided making eye contact until she had rinsed the washcloth and hung it up. I was reaching for the towel when she whispered, "I'm not done yet, Mike." Her voice had a throaty quality I'd never heard from her before.