Helping Hands

HELPING HANDS by Flameboy580 aka Emmett Vosh

This is my first time publishing a story like this, and I wanted to give it a try.

Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

~ E. Vosh.

Chapter 1: The Accident

I still remember when I got that phone call. Psychologists call it

Flashbulb memory

, and it allows you to remember exactly where you were when you receive distressing or emotional news. My sister had been in a mountain biking accident. I didn't know all the details, but apparently, she had fallen off her bike and fell a good distance, landing on her forearms as she tried to brace for impact...an impact which had broken both of her arms pretty badly.

All I really heard though was that my baby sister, Zoe, was hurt. The thought had my blood roaring, and within minutes I had locked up my apartment near campus and drove to the hospital.

Some have accused me of being overprotective of Zoe, hell, some of my exes even claimed I'd never be happy until I resolved my "sister-complex". I couldn't care less. She was my little sister. We had always been close, and she had my back no matter what. I got in a fight or two with assholes who would talk shit about her, but I never told her why I decked them. It was that same protective instinct that had me driving to go see her, even if I couldn't do anything, I needed to be there for her. She would have done the same.

I saw our mother, Camila, outside the waiting room. I rushed over to hug her.

"Oh Jace, I'm glad you are here, she'll be happy to see you."

"How is she?" I shifted anxiously as I asked, my adrenaline still pulling me toward action rather than chatting.

"Well...." My mother simply led me down the hall until I heard the screaming

"4 weeks?! You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

I couldn't hear what the doctors said as they tried to placate her, but I heard her reply loud and clear.

"8 weeks?! Son of a bitch!"

I took that as my cue. The nurse at the door wanted me to hang back until she calmed down, but I just calmly told the nurse, "I can calm her down, she's my sister, just let me though."

"What the hell am I supposed to do for that-" but Zoe's complaints were cut off when she saw me, "Jace?!"

"Sorry about her," I said to the nurses and doctors as I entered the room before turning to my sister. "Bet you can't guess how I found which room was yours!"

She rolled her eyes, but I noticed her cheeks had been stained with tears, an uncommon sight for her.

"How're you holding up sis?"

She just screamed into my shirt as she leaned against me, sobbing.

I knew my sister better than anyone, telling her to sit still and recover for a few hours was doable with a bribe, but several weeks? I knew she was devastated and was likely using her rage to mask her suffering.

I let her sob and scream into me for as long as she needed.

After a while she calmed down, asking for a tissue. That's when I learned the extent of her injury, when a nurse had to hold the tissue for her.

Apparently, she had broken her arms pretty badly, and her fingers were numb due to the anesthetic, but she would recover the use of them. That was the good news. The bad news is that she would need a full cast for both arms, the kind that made even simple dexterous tasks challenging. Worse still is the fact that while she'd be able use her hands, she would likely experience a lot of pain if she moved them. No wonder she was pissed.

The doctors explained that she would need a caretaker to do a lot of things but should be able to manage simple tasks such as using the bathroom well enough once her hands healed. Her knees were banged up but intact, and the doctors insisted she was not to do anything strenuous to speed the recovery process. No broken bones in her knees thankfully, since her forearms absorbed the brunt of the fall. Her shoulders and collarbone area would be sore for the next few days as they absorbed some of the shock when she tried to catch herself.

A middle-aged doctor pulled me aside to tell me that recovery could take anywhere from 4-12 weeks, but that she was hoping for at least 8.

"Is she going to be alright Doc? Any permanent damage?"

She looked at me softly, "Fortunately she should be able to make a full recovery, full use of her hands. Your sister is lucky the nerves weren't damaged. But I've seen types like her before, she's probably going to have a hard time asking for help."

I sighed my relief, thanking her as she left the room to talk to my mother. She either had a gift for reading people, or she'd been a doctor for a

long

time, because that was a dead-on analysis. My little sister hated asking for help and tried to do everything herself. I was the same way of course, but I wasn't as headstrong about it.

The rest of the stay in the hospital was a blur. I remember her getting her casts, and the doctors telling my mom and I which meds to administer, at what times. I remember them going over how to maintain her cast and all that, but not much else of what happened. Most of it was waiting around, but it still felt like it all unfolded so quickly.

I helped my sister buckle herself into my mother's car. She looked glum and defeated, her cold dead stare so at odds with her usual fiery personality. I turned to my mother, "I'll follow you there in my car".

When we got to my mother's house, she began making dinner, though I had a suspicion Zoe wouldn't be hungry. Somehow between the pain meds, her frustration, and the thought of having to be fed by someone else, I doubted she would have an appetite. I knew her well enough to leave her alone for a bit. During this time my mother and I discussed our options for caretakers, not that it was ever really worth discussing. Mom worked during the day, Aunt Crystal would love to, but Zoe would probably murder her, so that basically left either hiring someone, or me. As luck would have it, I was available nearly every day, since I only had one online class this summer, and it was a cakewalk. So, I would be the one taking care of her. My mother insisted she take over once she got home, but I honestly didn't think it would be very difficult. I liked taking care of others, something my mother instilled in me, and I had a soft spot for Zoe, so I wasn't worried.

When I checked on my sister, she was sound asleep. After all that she had gone through today, she deserved her rest. It seemed like the next few weeks were going to be challenging for her.

***

The next day, my mother called off of work, insisting that taking care of someone is harder than it looked. I was proven right almost immediately, as I realized that she wouldn't be able to wash herself. I would have to do that. Don't get me wrong, I loved my sister and I would do it for her, but that doesn't mean it wasn't going to be hella awkward. Our mother spared me from that duty for today, but I knew that I'd have to help her in a day or two.

The first day was spent mostly planning and going over logistics. We worked out a system for how she could let us know if she needed something. She refused to use a bell and ended up just settling for simply calling for us. She was more comfortable calling me for most things, which made sense considering how much time we had spent together growing up. Not that we blamed our mother or anything, but the divorce was rough on her. I was about 13 and Zoe was 10 when we found out that our father was cheating on her. She got a good deal in the settlement, but it was a long battle, and when she wasn't working long hours, she came home distant and drained. So, we really only had each other to depend on.

My mother went back to work the next day, but insisted I call her if I needed anything. Honestly, Zoe didn't do much of anything. She refused help cleaning up in the bathroom, saying she'd rather "suffer extended torture" than have me wipe for her. Fortunately, my mother's wise investment in a bidet a few years back made it easier for her, and honestly it was one of the silly reasons I missed living at home. Regular toilets just aren't the same after you've used one.

Otherwise though but didn't say much. She spent most of the time staring blankly at the TV. It broke my heart to see her so glum, but I wanted to give her time to process this. Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone is just to sit in that inky black silence with them.

She protested several times when eating lunch, claiming she could do it herself, but conceded when the pain of moving her fingers became intolerable. Her eyes were still vacant, lifeless, but at least she was eating something.

We spent that day watching movies and lounging around. She was groggy from the meds and dozed off on the couch a few times. Nothing really eventful happened. I hoped that she would recover quickly, because it made my heart ache to see my lively sister so...lifeless.

***

The next day was the true adventure. I was glad to see that some life had returned to her eyes, and she apparently felt well enough to tease me. After we ate breakfast, she got quiet and awkward.

"Sis, you alright? Need anything?" I asked, tilting my head to the side trying to get a read on her.

"Well...I guess it's time to test our sibling bond," she said with a ghost of a smile.

"Oh?" I asked as I put our plates in the dishwasher.

"Y-yeah," she stammered out, reddening slightly as she turned away from me.

When I didn't respond she fussed with her hair, adding, "I feel gross, I need a shower..."

Fortunately, I had a plan for this. "Okay, let's get you cleaned up then."

I ducked into my old room for a bit to execute said plan. I didn't know how much good it would do, but at the very least, it should hopefully make her laugh.

The tension in the bathroom was thick and heavy as we both stood there, fully clothed. I knew it was probably going to be painful for her to grab the bar of soap. Especially since we needed to put her casts in bags and seal them to prevent the casts from getting wet.

The doctors recommended baths instead of showers, since she could keep her hands out of the water more, but my sister wasn't the type to sit and soak in a tub. She chose to ignore the recommendation, insisting on a shower instead. I initially protested for a bit when she showered the first day with our mother, but soon realized it wasn't a battle worth fighting.

She would also need help undressing, which is the step we were currently stuck on.

She laughed a bit and said "Well Jace, if you ever fantasized about seeing me naked, here's your chance to see it all."

I chuckled with her, but her tone was flat and sad, so different from her usual. It broke my heart, but also steeled my resolve. I shrugged nonchalantly, "Nothing I haven't seen before," hoping to downplay the awkwardness as much as possible.

My sister was a good-looking woman, no denying that. Some of her previous boyfriends were fooled by her cute, innocent-looking appearance. I imagine they were in for quite a shock when they realized how quickly she could flip from cute to sexy. She was 20, 3 years younger than me. Her silky-black hair framed her cute face, accentuating the grey-green eyes we both shared. My hair was a similar shade of black but didn't look nearly as smooth as hers did. She has always been shorter than me, and there was currently about a 7-inch difference between us. She was in good shape due to her mountain biking hobby. More slender and fit than voluptuous, she still had some lovely curves to accentuate her lean build.

I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself from staring entirely.

She turned away from me and lifted her arms up, a silent cue for me. I lifted her shirt and removed her bra, being careful to avoid her hands. I wrapped her casts in the waterproof bags our mom picked up for her. I tried to focus on ensuring the seal was tight, but I knew she caught me looking at her perky tits. Not more than a handful, but still plenty to play with.

When the seal was tight, she turned around once more so I could remove her shorts and panties, but I noticed she tensed up as I removed them.

"Not my sexiest pair, so don't...nevermind." She trailed off, looking away from me in embarrassment.

I turned the water on to let it warm up. Then I removed my shirt. I had always had a tall and bulky body type, and I was more into weights than sports, which tended to make me look larger. My sister had lean muscle, built for endurance, whereas I had more of a sprinter's type of muscle.

I noticed she didn't even bother to hide the fact that she was watching me, curiosity dancing on her face as I moved a hand to my waistband.

"In an effort to make this less awkward for you, I, your brilliant brother, came up with a plan." I extravagantly removed my shorts to reveal my swim trunks underneath. They were a little small on me, since they were from high school, but they worked. I posed dramatically, "Behold!"

Zoe burst out laughing, and it was so good to hear her laugh again that it made my ridiculousness worth it. When her laughing died down, she simply said "Help me shower, you idiot!" She failed to hide her residual chuckling as I helped her into the shower.

After ensuring the water temp was good for her, I jumped in with her. I tried to tell myself this was normal, and that it wasn't awkward at all. I guessed she was thinking the same, since her body was tense and rigid. I decided to go for shampooing her hair first, which would hopefully allow her to relax. After running shampoo through her shoulder-length hair, I decided to try a scalp massaging trick one of my exes taught me. I gently dug my fingers into her scalp and massaged her in little circles.

She started to protest, "What are you-" but was interrupted by her own coo of approval, "-that feels...nice." Hearing her transition from confused to complacent was so cute. I felt her relax almost immediately, leaning back into me as her eyes closed. I continued to massage her scalp for a bit before playing with her hair, making sure I shampooed it all.

After rinsing it all out, she tried to grab the bar of soap but winced in pain as she tried to close her bag-covered hands over it. "Damn it..." I heard her say, "Guess you gotta do it..."

"No worries, I figured as much," I reassured her, trying not to let my nervousness show in my voice. I've showered with a girl before, sure, but this was my sister. The fact that she was beautiful didn't help my nerves.

I grabbed the loofah and soaped it up. She tried to break the tension by teasing me, "A boy who knows how to use a loofah?"

I just let out a fake laugh at her. She froze as the loofah touched her shoulder, but quickly relaxed again.

"Hey...Jace?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks....for doing this..." My sister had a hard time expressing gratitude for people, and it made my heart leap.

"I'm here for you...that's what brothers are for," as I finished saying it, I immediately regretted it, knowing what she'd say.

"Brothers are for showering together?" her face turned half toward me so I could see her smirk. "I've been doing it wrong all my life then!"

"You know what I meant!" I told her as I finished washing up her back. I couldn't quite keep the nervous chuckle out of my voice. For just a second, I got the sense that she wasn't entirely joking when she said that but shook the idea from my head. That was probably my nerves talking.

I could feel anxiety forming in the pit of my stomach I washed her shoulders. As we both knew what was coming up...washing her body. Stalling for time, she asked for conditioner to be done next, which I obliged, giving her another scalp massage.

"Seriously though...where did you learn to do that?!" She asked as she leaned back into my chest again.

"Does it feel good?"

"Way good..."

I just smiled, an odd sense of pride washing over me.

We both tensed a bit when I finished with her hair. I let her keep leaning into me as I soaped up the loofah and began washing her front. I tried to do it systematically, but as I got closer to her lovely perky tits, I felt myself hardening. I hoped she wouldn't feel it through my trunks.

She didn't say anything as I lathered her, trailing downward toward her stomach and legs, trying not miss any spots. When I got to her belly button, she opened her legs so I could get between them. I knelt down to clean her legs, putting me level with her delicious-looking bubble butt. I stalled for just a moment before I made my way down her right leg, marveling at how smooth her lean legs were, before moving to the left leg.

I could tell she wanted to say something, probably to break the tension, but she didn't.

As I stood up, she turned around to rinse her hair off, giving me a great view her frontside as water flowed down her stomach and chest. I noticed her nipples were puffed up but didn't say anything.

Since I was already in here, I decided to shampoo my own hair and wash up as well. I helped her get the rest of the conditioner out of her hair before switching places, so I was under the water. I knew she felt my semi-hard erection through my trunks as we swapped. As I stood under the showerhead, I couldn't hear what she muttered to herself, but it almost sounded like "Least it's not just me..." but I couldn't be sure over the sound of the water. I conditioned my own hair and rinsed off, trying not to stare at her gorgeous form as I did so.

I caught her stealing glances at my torso, but she didn't say anything.

We hopped out and I made sure to dry her off first. We waited until she was really dry before removing the bags. I dressed her in a loose-fitting t-shirt and some shorts, prioritizing comfort over style.

"Feel better?"

"Much." She seemed distracted, but I figured it was probably due to the pain.

She left the bathroom so I could remove my trunks and dry off.

I got dressed and grabbed the blow dryer for her hair. I had dried her hair before when we were growing up, so this was nothing new. She sat in front of me on the couch as I dried and brushed her hair. It was oddly comforting, a tangible, familiar way to take care of my sister.

She seemed distracted for much of that afternoon and confessed that she was in a quite a bit of pain. I gave her the pain meds and offered her an ice pack for shoulders, which she happily accepted. The meds made her groggy again, so the rest of the day was uneventful, and we spent most of the day lounging around.

***

This pattern continued for the next few days. I made her meals, helped her shower, and generally took care of her. I was so relieved when she could start taking half-doses of her pain meds. She began to resemble her old self again, instead of the zombie Zoe with that vacant stare. This also meant some of her emotions came back to her as well, for better or worse.

One afternoon, she had said she wanted to listen to music in her room for a bit, so I set her up to do so. A bit of time later, I leapt up from the recliner in the living room when I heard her curse. When I burst in the room, I found her eyes full of tears.

"Sorry Jace, I'm fine..."

"Like hell you are," was my only retort as I rushed to her side.

She hesitated for only a second or two before she leaned into my shoulder and began sobbing. Through the sobs I heard her mumbling things like "I'm so stupid," and "fucking useless." I just patted her head lovingly as she cried. Honestly, part of me was relieved that she was finally processing what happened. We both had a bad habit of bottling our feelings, and I knew she struggled with it more than I did. I had 3 years more to work on it than she had after all. I knew words would only add fuel to her ever-burning fire, so I just let her cry. She wouldn't be able to cry like this with mom, or really anyone else. So rarely did she sob, and I knew she needed to let it out. I just held her there, wishing I could do something more for my sister, something that could take the pain away and make it all better.