FIC: Responsibilities (Dead Like Me) (Incest Challenge)
Title: Responsibilities
Author: rysler
Date: March 31, 2007
Source: Dead Like Me
Notes: For the 2007 Incest Challenge. Rated R. 1000 words.
Summary: George catches Reggie thinking of her.
For bluefragment, by request. (This is probably not what she had in mind).
* * *
George peered over the windowsill. Illuminated by a night light, Reggie moved around in her bed. Squirming. Nightmare, maybe. Reggie moaned. George bit her lip. Reggie let out a gasp, and then cried out, "George." George pressed her nose to the glass. Reggie still moved. The sleets slid down her body. Her arm lay across her stomach and her hand was--
"Jesus Christ!" George exclaimed, and then toppled backward off the ledge. She hit the ground with a thud. Reggie must have heard the crash. And It hurt like hell. Dead bodies healed. But the soul would never heal. Not after a sight like that. She forced herself to her feet and ran through the gate.
Reggie's voice called out. "George?" And then, "Mom?"
* * *
"I caught my sister masturbating," George said at breakfast. Her reap wasn't until three in the afternoon, and it was her day off. Plenty of time to stew.
Roxie put down her fork.
"Really?" Mason asked.
"I don't know what to do," George said.
"Well, don't talk about it at breakfast," Roxie said. She threw down a five dollar bill. "Goddamnit, George."
"What?"
Mason slid Roxie's plate over and picked up her fork. He said, "Tell us more."
"More what?" Daisy slid into the booth.
"Georgie caught her sister. Um. You know," Mason said. He made a crude gesture. George closed her eyes.
"You don't have a sister," Daisy said.
"Yes, I do. And so do you," George said.
Daisy turned away and studied a Post-It.
"What did you see?" Mason asked.
"Mason."
"Oh, come on, there must be more."
"There is," George said. She bit her lip, and then murmured, "She said my name."
Mason put down his fork.
"What?"
Daisy leaned over and plucked George's Post-It note from her hand. She said, "Mine's close to here, at 2:30. Let's go together."
"Okay, whatever," George said, and let Daisy drag her out of the booth.
Mason looked mournfully at his breakfast, and said, "I think I've just taught myself a very valuable lesson about inquisitiveness."
* * *
Daisy sat on a picnic table with her feet on the bench. George slouched next to her on the bench. "It's a beautiful day to die," Daisy said.
George nodded. She said, "I like park deaths. Kind of peaceful. Even when they're violent."
"Unless it's a shooting. I hate shootings in parks."
"What else do you hate, Daisy?"
"Strangulation."
"Yeah, up close and personal sucks." George said. She leaned against Daisy's leg and yawned.
Daisy put her hand on top of George's head, and asked, "You?"
"Kids."
"Mason likes kids," Daisy said.
"Mm."
"George?"
"Mm?"
"You're the older sister, right?"
Daisy's fingers slid through her hair, massaging her scalp, and George tilted her face toward the sun. She said, "Yeah."
"That's hard."
"I wasn't very good at it," George said. "You?"
"Younger. My sister wasn't very good at it, either."
"How come?"
"I don't know. But she was far more beautiful than me."
George laughed. She said, "I didn't think that was possible."
"I know what you mean. But she's dead, and I'm dead, and my reap is about to lose it. So I'll be right back." Daisy hopped of the picnic table.
George gave a little wave, and went back to her thoughts. Death and sex. She wasn't sure which was worse.
* * *
Climbing up to the window ledge on the very next night after she'd caught her sister seemed completely stupid, but George did it anyway. She peered over the ledge, hoping Reggie wasn't staring at at the window. Reggie wasn't. Instead, she was looking at a photograph of George on the beside table.
"Creepy," George muttered.
Reggie took off her glasses and put them on the table, and then turned off the lamp. She pulled the covers up to her chin. George used to do that. When Reggie had a nightmare, she'd run into George's room and yank down the covers. George would yell at her until she cried, and then let her into bed, nearly suffocating her.
George pressed her cheek to the glass. She missed it; She missed it all. She'd tried to get to know her mom as Millie, and that had failed, but Reggie was young. She would understand. If Millie was with Reggie, it wouldn't even be like they were sisters. They could still be close. Closer. Reggie was warm, and death was so cold--
"Brad," Reggie moaned, as her hand slid between her legs.
George scowled.
* * *
"False alarm," George said, when the reaping was done and she was drinking coffee with Mason and Daisy at Der Waffle Haus.
"What?" Mason asked.
"My sister, with the ew? I think she meant George Clooney. Not me."
"Aha," said Mason. He furrowed his brow. "Or maybe George Jefferson?"
"George Hamilton," Daisy said, sighing wistfully.
"George Takei," Mason said. He giggled.
"Oh, God." George put her head in her hands.
Mason jumped off the stool. He said, "Ladies, I have a date. I shall see you later."
George grunted.
Daisy asked, "How do you feel about your sister?"
George lifted her head. She said, "You mean, in a general sense? Or this?"
Daisy shrugged.
George took a sip of coffee. She mused. She asked, "Do you think it would have been better to die during Sherman's actual march, than in Gone with the Wind? Like, isn't a movie about reality shallower than the reality itself?"
"Having toilet seat sensationalism angst again, George?"
"I just think it would be cool. You know, burned alive by Union soldiers. A part of history. Poetic." George paused. "Meaningful."
"Fuck you, George."
George said, "I probably shouldn't think out loud so much."
Daisy laughed. She had a short, brittle sound.
"Sorry." George hid behind her coffee mug.
Daisy said, "All death is awful. All of it."
"Yeah," George said. "I guess, to your question, I hated Reggie when I was alive. I was jealous."
"Jealousy does terrible things," Daisy said.
George leaned her shoulder against Daisy's. Daisy patted her thigh.
"People suck," George said.
Daisy said, "But not you, George. You don't suck."
"No, I just blow," George said.
Daisy laughed, and squeezed her leg.
"Family is overrated."
"A lot like love," Daisy said.
"Yeah," George agreed. Family, death, love. Non-starters. But there was still the issue of sex...
END
Author: rysler
Date: March 31, 2007
Source: Dead Like Me
Notes: For the 2007 Incest Challenge. Rated R. 1000 words.
Summary: George catches Reggie thinking of her.
For bluefragment, by request. (This is probably not what she had in mind).
* * *
George peered over the windowsill. Illuminated by a night light, Reggie moved around in her bed. Squirming. Nightmare, maybe. Reggie moaned. George bit her lip. Reggie let out a gasp, and then cried out, "George." George pressed her nose to the glass. Reggie still moved. The sleets slid down her body. Her arm lay across her stomach and her hand was--
"Jesus Christ!" George exclaimed, and then toppled backward off the ledge. She hit the ground with a thud. Reggie must have heard the crash. And It hurt like hell. Dead bodies healed. But the soul would never heal. Not after a sight like that. She forced herself to her feet and ran through the gate.
Reggie's voice called out. "George?" And then, "Mom?"
* * *
"I caught my sister masturbating," George said at breakfast. Her reap wasn't until three in the afternoon, and it was her day off. Plenty of time to stew.
Roxie put down her fork.
"Really?" Mason asked.
"I don't know what to do," George said.
"Well, don't talk about it at breakfast," Roxie said. She threw down a five dollar bill. "Goddamnit, George."
"What?"
Mason slid Roxie's plate over and picked up her fork. He said, "Tell us more."
"More what?" Daisy slid into the booth.
"Georgie caught her sister. Um. You know," Mason said. He made a crude gesture. George closed her eyes.
"You don't have a sister," Daisy said.
"Yes, I do. And so do you," George said.
Daisy turned away and studied a Post-It.
"What did you see?" Mason asked.
"Mason."
"Oh, come on, there must be more."
"There is," George said. She bit her lip, and then murmured, "She said my name."
Mason put down his fork.
"What?"
Daisy leaned over and plucked George's Post-It note from her hand. She said, "Mine's close to here, at 2:30. Let's go together."
"Okay, whatever," George said, and let Daisy drag her out of the booth.
Mason looked mournfully at his breakfast, and said, "I think I've just taught myself a very valuable lesson about inquisitiveness."
* * *
Daisy sat on a picnic table with her feet on the bench. George slouched next to her on the bench. "It's a beautiful day to die," Daisy said.
George nodded. She said, "I like park deaths. Kind of peaceful. Even when they're violent."
"Unless it's a shooting. I hate shootings in parks."
"What else do you hate, Daisy?"
"Strangulation."
"Yeah, up close and personal sucks." George said. She leaned against Daisy's leg and yawned.
Daisy put her hand on top of George's head, and asked, "You?"
"Kids."
"Mason likes kids," Daisy said.
"Mm."
"George?"
"Mm?"
"You're the older sister, right?"
Daisy's fingers slid through her hair, massaging her scalp, and George tilted her face toward the sun. She said, "Yeah."
"That's hard."
"I wasn't very good at it," George said. "You?"
"Younger. My sister wasn't very good at it, either."
"How come?"
"I don't know. But she was far more beautiful than me."
George laughed. She said, "I didn't think that was possible."
"I know what you mean. But she's dead, and I'm dead, and my reap is about to lose it. So I'll be right back." Daisy hopped of the picnic table.
George gave a little wave, and went back to her thoughts. Death and sex. She wasn't sure which was worse.
* * *
Climbing up to the window ledge on the very next night after she'd caught her sister seemed completely stupid, but George did it anyway. She peered over the ledge, hoping Reggie wasn't staring at at the window. Reggie wasn't. Instead, she was looking at a photograph of George on the beside table.
"Creepy," George muttered.
Reggie took off her glasses and put them on the table, and then turned off the lamp. She pulled the covers up to her chin. George used to do that. When Reggie had a nightmare, she'd run into George's room and yank down the covers. George would yell at her until she cried, and then let her into bed, nearly suffocating her.
George pressed her cheek to the glass. She missed it; She missed it all. She'd tried to get to know her mom as Millie, and that had failed, but Reggie was young. She would understand. If Millie was with Reggie, it wouldn't even be like they were sisters. They could still be close. Closer. Reggie was warm, and death was so cold--
"Brad," Reggie moaned, as her hand slid between her legs.
George scowled.
* * *
"False alarm," George said, when the reaping was done and she was drinking coffee with Mason and Daisy at Der Waffle Haus.
"What?" Mason asked.
"My sister, with the ew? I think she meant George Clooney. Not me."
"Aha," said Mason. He furrowed his brow. "Or maybe George Jefferson?"
"George Hamilton," Daisy said, sighing wistfully.
"George Takei," Mason said. He giggled.
"Oh, God." George put her head in her hands.
Mason jumped off the stool. He said, "Ladies, I have a date. I shall see you later."
George grunted.
Daisy asked, "How do you feel about your sister?"
George lifted her head. She said, "You mean, in a general sense? Or this?"
Daisy shrugged.
George took a sip of coffee. She mused. She asked, "Do you think it would have been better to die during Sherman's actual march, than in Gone with the Wind? Like, isn't a movie about reality shallower than the reality itself?"
"Having toilet seat sensationalism angst again, George?"
"I just think it would be cool. You know, burned alive by Union soldiers. A part of history. Poetic." George paused. "Meaningful."
"Fuck you, George."
George said, "I probably shouldn't think out loud so much."
Daisy laughed. She had a short, brittle sound.
"Sorry." George hid behind her coffee mug.
Daisy said, "All death is awful. All of it."
"Yeah," George said. "I guess, to your question, I hated Reggie when I was alive. I was jealous."
"Jealousy does terrible things," Daisy said.
George leaned her shoulder against Daisy's. Daisy patted her thigh.
"People suck," George said.
Daisy said, "But not you, George. You don't suck."
"No, I just blow," George said.
Daisy laughed, and squeezed her leg.
"Family is overrated."
"A lot like love," Daisy said.
"Yeah," George agreed. Family, death, love. Non-starters. But there was still the issue of sex...
END