When All Resistance Is Gone

Kat and I never got along from day one. Maybe from even before then. Everyone commented on it. Said it was unusual. Especially as we were twins. Our folks had sent us both to therapy. Together and individually. Disaster. Together, we openly brawled. Separately, we bitched, each about the other. Nothing worked. We literally couldn't be in the same room without a fistfight ensuing. Family holidays were invariably a disaster. One airline had even put us on their no-fly list. After years of refereeing, finally, my parents decided on something more drastic. Shortly after we turned 20, they took an extended, open vacation and left us behind. Sayonara!

Ok, a bit about us. Kat was five foot tall plus change. I, my name is Kay (short for Kevin somehow), was six on the money. She was slim, petite, raven haired, and according to anyone who cared to express an opinion on the toilet wall in our old high school, had a rack angels would weep for. To me, she was plain ugly. A whining gas bag self-entitled valley girl wannabe. I played sports and computer games. The first had me fit and lean, the second, wanting for friends. I was a loner. She was a socialite. She was vegan. I ate steak. I volunteered in the local old folk's home. She never missed a party.

My parents briefed us each separately before the great escape. We would both have access to the same pool of cash to keep us together till they returned. The refrigerator and freezer were stocked for months. Anything else, we could swing for. For three days after they left, neither of us saw the other. We were two ships passing, etc.

Everything changed on day four.

It started with texts. Which I didn't bother reading and left on unseen. All day long, I went from class to class, pretty much alone. My phone chirped and chirped, I ignored it. Arriving home that evening, I fully expected to have the place to myself. When I found signs of life, I was pissed. I decided to cook quickly and head to my room, keep out of her way. It seemed like the best solution for a quiet life. It had worked for the last three days at any rate.

I was still clattering pans when Kat walked into the kitchen. I sensed her arrival but chose to ignore it. She didn't say anything for a while. Just stood there looking at me throwing food in a pan. Eventually, she coughed. Not a clearing of the throat cough, more a 'hey, fuckhead' one.

Throwing my eyes skyward, I turned.

Kat stood on the other side of the island. The first thing I noticed were the shiners. Both eyes. Somewhere that registered in my head as a broken nose. Then I saw the arm, wrapped wrist to armpit in a white bandage. Then, the cut on her forehead. My stomach lurched. I may have despised her, but I also discovered, in that moment, that I felt responsible for her like no other. We shared a connection few other people on earth could even comprehend. I might make her life living hell, but god forbid anyone else should try.

"What happened to you?" I asked, a tad over-sharply out of habit.

She continued to stare at me for a moment, keeping it together. Then, her lip trembled and the tears started to fall. Up until that moment, I'd never seen Kat cry. Like, I mean, never. She just didn't. I presumed she probably did. Just never in front of me. Now, tears were streaming down her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead a massive sob came out. Followed by a gut-wrenching moan. She sank to the floor. I didn't know what to do. I stood, mouth open, watching her melt down on the kitchen floor.

Every ounce of animosity I'd ever felt towards her drained out of me in that split second.

Then, I took a step towards her. Her knees had buckled, and her skirt had ridden up, legs akimbo before me. My eyes were incongruously drawn to her crotch and the flash of white panties beneath her tiny black skirt. I shook away the image and went down on my hunkers beside her.

As gently as I could, I said.

"What happened, Sis?"

"Where were you?" She spat venomously.

"What?" I was afraid now.

"I was trying to reach you." I remembered the WhatsApps.

"Eh, I had my phone on silent. Are you ok?" Ok, stupid question.

"No, you moron, I'm not." I took that, because, basically, I deserved it.

I decided to try to sound empathetic.

"Please, Sis, you're freaking me out, what happened?"

"I was attacked. Ok?"

"Attacked?" This couldn't be happening. Parents were barely out of the country, and I'd let my sister get attacked and then ignored her pleas for help.

"I spend the morning in the emergency room."

I realized I was experiencing a new feeling in relation to my sister: guilt.

"Oh, shit, Kat. I'm so sorry. I should have checked. What happened?"

"I was mugged." She began to ball again. My heart sank and I felt like a complete shit.

I moved around her and went to hoosh her up and towards the sofa.

"Ow! Fuck off." She snapped. I found myself backing off rather than slinging insults.

"Tell me what to do, sis. Have you called the cops?"

"Yes. They took a report but didn't hold out much hope."

"Are you hurt?"

"Eh, Sherlock ..."

The look on my face must have been priceless because she laughed and seem to thaw slightly.

"I'm ok. Bruises and sprains. Broken nose. Mostly just scared."

"Oh, Kat. I'm really sorry."

"You said that."

"Here, let me get you to the sofa."

This time, she let me help her onto her feet and I half carried her to the sofa in the corner of the kitchen. I gently laid her down.

"Can I get you anything?"

"What? Like chicken soup, idiot."

'Anything, sis. Something to eat? Drink? I could make you a salad."

She laughed again.

"I'm ok. Just sore and scared."

"What happened?"

She began sobbing again and I sat beside her, trying to decide if I should hold her hand or something. Maybe put an arm around her.

"I found some rotten vegetables in the larder. That skanky smell in the kitchen? You probably didn't notice. It smelled like your bedroom. Turns out it was rotten broccoli."

I shrugged. Housekeeping wasn't my strong suit.

"I thought I'd chuck it straight in the dumpster in the back lot rather than in the trash. I went round behind the building and disturbed two guys smoking a joint."

"Christ, sis, you're lucky!"

She gave me a dirty look.

"I mean, they could have killed you."

"Kay, they tried to assault me."

"Assault you?" I looked at the black eyes and the bandage. Didn't that constitute assault?

"Rape me." She began to sob again.

This time, some reflex kicked in and I hugged her, sickened.

"Oh, Kat." Tears filled my own eyes. I felt doubly responsible.

"They, they knocked me to the ground and were pawing me." It came out peppered with raking sobs.

"One of them was pulling off my panties. I was screaming. Sallah, the janitor, just happened to come out into the yard and saw what was happening. He scared them away."

I held her closer still, trying to avoid the sore bits.

"You're ok now." I tried to placate her.

"Kay. They're still out there. What if they come looking for me? They know I live in this building."

"I'm here now. I'll protect you." I did feel suddenly brave and ferociously angry. I wanted to go out on the street right now and track those bastards down and give them a beating. Let them know what it was like to be afraid.

Sis burst my bubble.

"What can you do?" She said quietly.

"Wait here." I replied, stupidly.

I ran into my room and came back with my baseball bat. I dropped it on the small table in front of the sofa. Kat looked at me like I was insane.

"For starters." I ran back out again. This time, I raided the closet in my parent's room. I found the box hidden away in the back and rifled through it. I grabbed my dad's gun and the box of ammo from his bedside table. I was fitting slugs into the chambers when I arrived back into the kitchen.

"What are you doing with that?" Kat said, half laughing, half scared.

"I'm going to protect you. Or at least make you feel safe." I said, in what I hoped sounded like a protective voice. Truth was, I never even held a gun before, let along used one. I'd have to go and Google how to take the safety off later.

"Could I have a glass of water?"

"Your wish ..." I jumped up and fetched her a tall glass of water full of ice.

"I've got a steak defrosted if you'd like to use it on your eyes." She smiled properly for the first time. I'd never noticed how her smile lit up her face before, but I guess she wasn't in the habit of smiling around me.

"You keep that for you." She said kindly. "I've got some creams."

"How about an icepack?"

"I'm ok. Relax."

"Can you take a shower. Or a bath? I could run you a bath?" She held up her arm with the white bandage.

"So, what, all it took was the threat of a rape to get you to be civil to me?"

"Hey, you weren't exactly meeting me halfway, either!"

"True. Owww." She had tried to lightly punch me with her sore arm.

"Careful. What can I do to make you comfortable?"

She looked at me straight in my eyes, my stomach flipped, and I felt a weird pulling sensation in my groin.

"It's going to sound weird, but could you barricade the door and make sure the place is secure? It'd make me feel a little less scared."

"Sure thing, sis."

I searched the apartment and settled for emptying a big old oak bookcase and setting it on its side across the door. I lined glass ornaments along the top side. They'd fall and make noise if anyone tried to push the bookcase out of the way. Then I took a photo of the setup on my phone and went back into Kat to show her the snap.

"Feel safer?" I asked.

"Yes." She whispered, softly. "Thank you." She really must have been rattled to speak so softly to me.

"One other thing." Kat said, returning to her bossy old self. I nodded. Right then, I'd have agreed to anything to assuage the guilt I was feeling.

"Anything."

"I may hold you to that." She laughed. "But, if you're talking to mom and dad, not a word. Ok?"

"Fuck, yeah."

Sibling Omerta I could do.

"Lips sealed." I knew we'd both be grounded for life if the parents ever heard.

"Thanks."

After that, things never quite returned to normal for us. First off, I now felt super protective towards Kat, and was determined to accompany her wherever she wanted to go. Even though she beat me into the world by fifteen minutes, I now felt like the older sibling. The protector. Secondly, Kat's outgoing nature was massively dented by the assault. Over the next few days, I came to realize she was actively not going out. In fact, she hadn't left the apartment once since the attack. I began to wonder if I should try to find someone for her to talk with. Third, she now had a hair trigger sleep thing going. If I went into the kitchen late at night for a snack, she'd appear within seconds to check what the noise was. One night, I was late back from the library, and I found her in tears on the couch. She had convinced herself that something had happened to me. When I gently quizzed her about it, it turned out that she was terrified the two guys were lurking about the building and would do me in to get to her.

I did my best to keep her calm, but all suggestions about seeing someone fell on deaf ears.

So, I found myself staying at home more too. She really did get frantic if I even went to a local store. I'd get a bunch of WhatsApps there and back. Besides, shifting the bookcase every time I wanted to go out was proving to be a nuisance.

I quickly became adept at cooking vegan dishes. And to be honest, I even began enjoying them, and the company of my sister while we ate. We still bickered, but only over stupid stuff, like what to watch on TV.

Time passed and we fell into the rhythm of an old married couple. Separate rooms and all.

Our parents kept in occasional contact, but finding we were civil with each other, they decided they had found a strategy that worked, and decided they weren't in a hurry home. I was secretly thrilled. As each day went on, I felt like I was making up for lost time with my twinnie. Once we dropped the antagonism, turned out we got along really well.

Soon, Kat's black eyes faded through the rainbow and away altogether. Her arm was better too. But her fear of the outdoors remained. I suggested we try a local pizza place one evening. She agreed, once they delivered or I could collect.

I suggested a walk in the park. She talked about the chance of rain.

I let it slide. In part, because I was enjoying looking after her. And I began to become used to living within the confines of the apartment. We'd spend ever daytime moment together, then go our separate ways in the evening. Out of the blue, I'd begun to watch porn on my laptop at night and would often whack myself to sleep and wake up with headphones in my ears and my laptop open on the bed. I noticed my tastes in porn changing over time. I'd always had a thing for older women, but my age profile began to lower. Black haired girls started to appear prominently.

Apart from a lack of outdoor life, Kate began to relax at home. She took to wandering about in a sloppy t-shirt and shorts most of the day. I got in on the act with a college sweatshirt and pair of track shorts. We began to take on the appearance of two wasters. Two happy wasters.

The one thing that I didn't reckon on was my newfound affection for my sister evolving into love. I guess, taking on the role of protector automatically meant I had something worth protecting. And something worth protecting demanded love. I found that I liked the idea. It appealed to my macho instinct. I knew I couldn't do anything about what had happened to her, or help her with her growing fear of outside, but I could be here for her. Her rock.

One evening, our conversation took a turn I think neither of us really expected. We were sitting beside each other on the sofa, flicking through Netflix. Kat had spotted some romcom she'd been wanting to see, and I grudgingly agreed to watch it. As the film progressed, Kat asked me the dreaded question. The one thing I missed about our hating each other was the disinterest we both had in each other's lives. Now, out of the blue, Kat wanted to know why I didn't have a girlfriend.

"Because I'm minding you, dear sister." I responded smart-assly. That got me a thwack with the cushion.

"I just haven't found the one." I settled on. Then decided attack was the best form of defense.

"So, what about you? How come there aren't a load of guys knocking the door down? It's not like you're not attractive."

The last comment was a throwaway, but it seemed to land funny with Kat. She didn't answer for a long time. I got engrossed in something stupid going on with the movie and had pretty much forgotten we'd even been chatting when she replied. It took me a second to reestablish context.

"You think I'm attractive?"

"What?" I asked absentmindedly.

"I said what do you find attractive about me?"

"I didn't say I found you attractive, sis. I said you were attractive. Like to other guys."

She smiled demurely.

"But if you were able to step outside of your brotherly role?"

"What?"

"If you pretended not to be my twin for a minute, what would you say was attractive about me?"

"Not your neediness, anyway."

"Come on. I'm serious. I haven't heard a compliment in weeks."

"Oh, fawning-withdrawal is it? Don't you have Insta or TikTok for that?"

"I haven't been on either in weeks." She said quietly. "I can't."

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset, just feeling dumpy and ugly."

"You're neither dumpy nor ugly and you know it." I said.

"But I want to hear it." She smiled.

"Ok. You're very pretty."

"Pretty? What are you, my grandmother?"

"I don't know." I got to my feet, a bundle of nervous energy all of a sudden. I had grown intimate with Kate over the weeks, but this felt intimate intimate.

"Come on, bro." She insisted. "What do you see? As a guy. Not as my brother"

I moaned and paced up and down a bit, ringing my hands in my hair.

"Ok, you are beautiful, your brown eyes are stunning and soulful but sparkle when you laugh. Your boobs are big but perfectly proportioned to the rest of your body. You're really funny, kind and silly. Your figure is knock out. And your ass would bring the dead back to life. Ok?"

I'd blurted the whole thing out without thinking. It came, freeform. I hadn't even realized I'd noticed half the things I said. And now I'd said it, I was purple with embarrassment, and willing the ground to open up and take me. I couldn't even run out the front door to escape. Eventually, not hearing sniggers or a sharp intake, I turned to gauge her reaction.

Kat had the strangest look on her face. If I had a gun to my head, I'd say she was pleased at my comments. But it was more than that. It was like she was thrilled I had made them. That she relished my compliments.

"What?' I said. "Don't leave me hanging. I'm embarrassed enough."

"That was really... sweet." She said, voice cracking.

"That was Stockholm Syndrome." I laughed. Then added, "Well, I have to be nice to you now. Don't I?"

"We're you just being nice?" The look of quizzical desperation that crossed her face made me crack.

"No. I do think you're gorgeous, and if you weren't my sister ..."

"What?" She said quietly.

"What what?"

"If I wasn't your sister?"

"I would ... fancy you." I said.

"Just that?"

"I think that's more than enough of a confession from a twin, don't you?"

"So, there's more?" This time whispered but with a devilish smile.

"Kat." I pleaded.

"I didn't realize you'd been ogling my ass."

"Hardly ogling. Observing."

"Ha."

She smiled and laid a hand on my thigh. I jolted at the touch.

"Jeez. What's got into you?' She said.

"I'm just not comfortable with all this touch feely stuff."

"Come here." Kat held out her hand and I took it. She pulled me close to the couch and kissed me on the side of the face.

"That's for being nice." She said.

I headed for my room, conscious that my dick was swelling. I couldn't quite square away the appearance of my chub with complimenting my sister but guessed I'd been locked up too long. I flipped open my laptop and went straight to my favorite porn site. The first video that caught my eye was a brother sister one. Jesus. I wasn't into that. Was I? Five minutes later, a cum soaked rag told a different story. The fact that it was Kat's face in my mind when the moment came, so to speak, didn't make me feel any better.

Later, I served diner a little bit more subdued than usual, mainly because of the guilt I felt at my earlier activities. Kat seemed to think I was still feeling weird about our conversation and overcompensated with compliments about my cooking.

Later, when we were watching a movie, she redoubled her efforts to put me at my ease, with the opposite effect.

"You know you're very handsome?" She said. "A real man."

"Oh, come on, Kat." I said shyly.

"I bet the girls line up."

"No, they don't." I retorted quietly, immediately regretting my response.

"What, really?"

"Um." I said, trying to close down the conversation.

"I know Alice and Beth think you're hot." She added. The mention of two of her friends that lived firmly in my spankbank made me feel worse. I would have severed my left arm to make out with either of them. Hell, with anyone. "Seriously, if you weren't my brother ..." she left it hang. But hang it didn't. Instead, my cock went up like a tentpole at the thought of my sister telling me she would fuck me if I wasn't her brother. But I was her brother. Her twin brother. Even if I wanted to do something, and I didn't, there's no way she'd be into it.

After that exchange, I detected a distinct change in Kat's wardrobe. The sloppy tees and shorts were replaced by a selection of expensive 'leisurewear' that she insisted was for Pilates or Yoga or exercising. These outfits generally consisted of a figure-hugging crop top that in the past would have been called a teensy-weensy sports bra, and leggings so tight they didn't so much accentuate as define the intimate. Their appearance led me to take more frequent but shorter breaks to my room. The purpose of these visits was never discussed, but I often detected a smug smile playing on Kat's face when I'd reappear slightly shamefaced.