Hazelslut

that feels somewhat ridiculous to say, even in the privacy of your own mind, but… even though Sarah has her way with you, you're more comfortable with Lena than anyone else in the world. the loops and spirals of the pattern get wider, and slowly the fear and self-recrimination over what you're doing with your sister, how unsafe you feel she is, it all gets pushed further and further away by divine, radiant hands, your sister the saint levelling you out and keeping you from madness.

all you can do is give back, take care of her; helping her out of bed in the morning and brushing your teeth together even when neither of you want to, making meals for her on the days she barely has energy to stand at the stove, eating her out in the shower again and again, neither of you ever tiring of the routine, happy and safe and comfortable.

it's not always easy. but the two of you, you make it easier for each other. there had been a time when you were younger, a brief couple years, when this hadn't been true and all you did was make it harder. but bookending that time you hate to think about are memories of Lena. when you were younger, all the things that felt so normal, the way she'd bounce you on her knee before you got too big, her bathing with you before you were big enough for it to be inappropriate (and even for a time after that), the way you'd find yourselves entwined, cuddling closer than anyone else in the family, but it was normal for you.

and then again, on the other side of those two awful blurry years where the two of you barely talked and even when you did you fought. after you told her you were a girl, after things changed for the better. when you came back together; even after Lena left for college you kept talking. you remember those years better than she does, you've realized.

the only time she wasn't able to calm you down was during those two years. you were so mad at Dad for something you can't even remember now, and you came into the house and stormed into your room and started screaming. and Lena tried, god what a saint, she tried to calm you down but all you could do was scream because you wanted to lash out but you could never hurt our sister.

(for a little while, while you were 13 and i was 15, you restrained yourself because you knew i would beat the shit out of you for it. and then i left and you realized you had a crush on Lena and knew that you couldn't ever hurt her ever again, not even when you were at your angriest.)

and that brings us to today, a moment in between all the other shit, before you come to me again, when you come home in a rage. it had been a day full of inconvenience and delays and by the time you managed to even get anything productive done the day was already almost over. Moss wasn't with you, at least then you would have had some company through it all. instead you just boiled in black tar.

you're in a daze as you walk in, just pointless rage over nothing, the kind of idiotic overwhelm that your bullies called you autistic for, just red face and fists swinging. and you know how to handle it now, in theory. or at least you know how to let it explode in privacy. Sarah tries to greet you but you brush her off, and she doesn't chase you, sees the sweat on your brow and the red on your face and your lips tight, and she knows you well enough that she knows this is the kind of meltdown she can't defuse.

and for a moment, as you're turning the corner from the living room into the hallway where your door is, you think you're going to be alone for this. for the last five odd years while Lena was at school you have been alone. nobody in the house knows how to handle this.

except one person, now. because your big sister is back in your life, and for the first time in a long time you enter your room and find the one person who can help you. she's beautiful, radiant, you're looking at her with new eyes and you see exactly how amazing she is, how could you ever ask for someone more perfect than her? she's curled up on your bed, looking at her phone, one of her plushies in her arms.

the headrush of the meltdown overwhelms you and and drowns out all your other thoughts, so you whisper "help," to her and in a split second she's off of your bed and wrapping you in her arms, phone and plushie forgotten about, the need to help you overriding anything else.

Lena hushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth. "let it out, baby."

there's nothing coherent for you to say, just a mess of syllables and sobbing, the black pitch finally bubbling over and out, and you squeeze Lena as tight as you can and in a tight voice she says "there you go," and you cry even harder, pushing your face into her shoulder as hard as you can, "oh babygirl," and she rocks you back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

"i'm sorry" you sob into her, your voice pitching a little lower, catching with a little more vocal fry than normal. part of you wants to let go of her so you can't hurt her anymore, but the part of you that's here right now in her arms can't let go.

"shhh, it's okay, don't apologize. just let it out."

and you do. you sob and squeeze and babble into her shoulder until all that terrible black pitch has been wrung from you. at some point Lena brings you to sit on the bed, still rocking you back and forth. the motion soothes, familiar patterns coiling around your heart and slowing the speeding vessel's pace until it matches hers.

you sniffle, and your sister leans over to your desk to grab your tissue box. you stay attached to her as she goes, but she doesn't protest at all, simply returns to her position on the bed and plucks a couple tissues from the box. "here, baby, let me…" she murmurs, wiping your tears away and even wiping your nose before discarding the tissues. voice still soft, she asks "better?"

you nod. "still feel… weird. but. i'm okay, i guess. i-" and for some reason you pause over the next two words, feeling suddenly unsure if you're allowed to.

"weird? Sarah said you mentioned you were feeling weird when we went to the park with Cleo? i thought it was maybe because you smoked too much, but now…"

"stone cold sober," you confirm.

"the same kind of weird, though?"

"mhm. i think so. or… kind of? it's… the same kind of different, i think, but i'm- it's not the same… different? i don't know if that makes sense…" you grumble discontentedly, frowning.

Lena hums. "not really… anything else? how do you feel, other than 'weird'?"

you hide your face in her shoulder and let your voice be muffled, "still feel… angry…"

"what about, baby?"

"idunno… just… angry. today was shit, and nothing went like planned, and it'll be fine but i'm just. angry. i don't know, i'm sorry."

"it's okay, love. do you want to talk about it? or do you want me to take your mind off of it?" Lena asks, and your heart starts beating a little faster. you nod desperately, not entirely sure which one you mean, but your sister always knows.

the idea of your sister touching you is at once intimately familiar and also surprisingly new, a sense you can't put your finger on that this is a first for you. your mind is still chaotic, but your sister brings your focus onto her. she starts by bringing her hand up to your chin and lifting your head until she can dip her head forward and lock lips with you.

your eyes flutter closed happily and you lean in further. your sister gives back gladly, kissing you as deeply as you want, pulling back when you do only to crash back together like waves on the shore, over and over and over again. you feel all that fiery rage start to ebb away, making way for something gentler, a smoldering ember of passion that you impart unto your sister through your lips, pushing forward until her head hits the pillow behind her and you start to climb on top of her because that's what you're supposed to do with all this energy and passion and excitement.

but your sister knows better.

"uh-uh, Pen. you do a lot for me, let me return the favor," Lena commands, and you want to let her but when she calls you Pen something makes you flinch a little bit, sure that that's not right. the thought makes your head go a little fuzzy in a way that would usually make you feel good but right now you just want to be you, and not…

"Penny?" Lena whispers not your name and you close your eyes to it.

"i'm… i don't…"

"do you want me to stop?"

"no! no, no i don't want you to stop, i just- why do i- why does that name not… feel… right…?" you're whispering by the end of it, shrinking into yourself for no good reason just scared and retreating like you said something awful.

and then Lena puts her hand on your cheek, and you can't help but open your eyes and meet your sister's, and so softly you barely hear it, she breathes "oh."

she smiles, a happy but tight sort of smile that you know means a hard question, the kind that always hurts right away but helps you in the end. she'd had this exact same look when she asked you if you were trans. and then she opens her mouth, and it does hurt to have it laid bare, this thing you didn't even know you were feeling, like she wrapped her hand around your barbed wire heart without flinching and pulled it all away until she could read the etching hidden on the back.

"you're not Penny at all, are you, love?"

and you can't help but cry, sobbing through the words, "i don't know who i am, Lena! i'm sorry!"

she brings you to her shoulder while she tries not to cry, herself, "shhhh, no no no, it's okay baby, it's okay. is this why you stopped yourself from saying 'i love you' earlier?" you flush; you'd been sure she didn't notice. you nod, a tiny little motion that Lena hums at. "listen to me. you don't need to know, right now. i love you. no matter who you are."

"okay," you whisper, though it's broken up by sobs.

"shhhh… you don't need to know who you are. do you know what you want, baby?"

you nod fervently, "touch me, please Lena, please, i- i don't know i just- i- i just want to feel you, please!"

she pauses for a second, pulling back to ask "are you sure? you're-"

you cut her off by pushing forward and kissing her desperately, an empty ache in your heart filled by the contact, and you whisper against her lips "please"

your sister knows that you mean it - always understanding you better than anyone - and kisses you back. she pulls back long enough to tell you that "okay. you don't have to do anything, love. this is your first time, i want to make you feel good first, okay?"

you nod, a little nervous, but go willingly as she pushes you onto your back and begins to undress you. you're dirty and sweaty, and you wish you had gotten a shower, but Lena doesn't seem to care.

her hands find your hips first, thumbs running back and forth in arcs just above your waistband. they push your shirt up just a little before the black fabric drops back down to conceal her fingers, and you start to whimper, "Lena…"

"patience, baby," she smiles up at you and you nod again, letting your head drop back and your hips buck up just a little bit. Lena giggles, pressing down on you softly until you let your hips drop too. once you've gone slack for her again she continues, her hands travelling up further underneath your shirt. you shiver and gasp, soft fingers teasing your sides for a second before they find purpose and begin to grasp at your shirt and lift it up.

you gasp as it goes, your mismatched blue-green eyes going wide. "please," you beg, the only word you can muster in this moment.

"arms," Lena commands, and you lift them for her like always. for a moment everything is dark, your bleach-splattered t-shirt only letting in the bare minimum of light from your already dim room. you hear and feel the bed shift, and you gasp when she pulls your shirt the rest of the way off and you catch a glimpse of her on the other side.

she's moved closer to you, her glasses gone and eyes wide, her mouth open in a little 'o' that you know and love and you smile at her with watery eyes, "i love you."

"i love you too, baby…" she whispers back, crawling forward until she's nearly on top of you and can reach your lips, kissing you deeply and asking nothing in return. "i love you so much, no matter who you are, okay? okay, baby? i- do you understand? tell me- tell me if you understand, love."

as she speaks, Lena gets more confident, sure that she knows you and maybe she does, because you can't help but cry out, "i do! i do, i know, Lena! i know i know i know i love you too!"

and she dives in to latch onto your neck, all lips and teeth and tongue and you know she wants you to stay where you are but you can't help the way your whole body twitches and bucks when she refuses to let go, sucking a mark into your skin that you know is getting darker and more bruised every second but you don't want her to get off of you you just want it to keep going, you beg "please please please pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease" over and over you repeat it and your sister gives more than you could ever ask for, only letting go for a second just to find another clear spot and start the process over. you lose track of how many marks she gives you before she finally pulls away to examine her work with a happy hum.

"mine," she purrs happily.

slowly, languidly, she kisses her way down your bare chest, stopping to nip and suck at your nipples. you groan and gasp beneath her as she swirls her tongue around one, then lets go with a soft pop. eventually, though, once she's had enough of her detour, she continues her journey downward until she reaches your waistband once again.

with a soft kiss to your tummy just above your belt buckle, Lena parts from you for just long enough to pull at your belt until it comes loose. "butt," she says, and you lift for her until she can get your belt off. you almost collapse again, but she commands "stay," and you do. deft fingers make short work of button and zipper, and soon enough your nasty sawdust-covered jeans are being flung, the same as your shirt, in the vague direction of your hamper.

you're already hard beneath your boxer briefs, though you hadn't even thought about that since she started touching you. Lena only pays it mind for a moment, long enough to rub you through the fabric and make you twitch, before she turns her attention to the rest of your body.

open mouthed kisses line your inner thigh as your sister makes her way down, then back up, then down, then back up, no goal in mind; only to worship you in the way saints do, with open lips professing their love.

you gasp and cry out when she uses her teeth. it all becomes a blur, just hands and mouths and whispered affirmations between kisses, your desperate cries answered by your sister's gentle love.

eventually, once you've gone overstimulated and batted her hands away and pulled her back up to you for cuddles, Lena asks "can i tell you a story?"

you nod, hesitantly. she speaks in soft tones to you, like when you were young and scared of the thunder and needed her to calm you down.

"i had a very close friend in college. we played D&D every week, it was one of the only things other than class i could drag myself out of bed for. and every once in a while, he'd manage to drag me out of bed to hang out with him. he was such a lovely person, but he was never really the same, moment to moment, and almost every time we were together i'd comment on all the weird ways he acted, and he'd quote Walt Whitman back to me, but always this one quote…" she pauses, remembering. then she makes a noise and assumes a very serious poetry voice, "'Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)' it wasn't until senior year that he finally told me why he liked that quote so much. he told me he was plural. and he was so poetic about it, never calling it something so clinical and crass as multiple personalities. he told me they were all the parts of himself he couldn't be, pieces of armor he'd made into whole people, brilliant facets of a shining gem, and as he talked i realized it was all of them talking, each one describing it differently."

as she talks, your sobs start to slow until you've gone quiet and your heartrate has once again slowed pace to match your sister's.

"but i'm… i'm not…" you try to protest, suddenly once again a little less sure of who you are. you can't help but trail off, fairly sure that finishing that sentence would be lying. and you hate lying to your sister, no matter who you are.

"babygirl… it's okay, you can be."

that's really all you needed. permission from the one person in your life who can truly give it. permission to give in to the feeling that's been tugging at you every time that jagged edge of your heart caught on the softness of your sister, every time she wore it down with her words and her actions, and you think that if she were to look at your heart and pull up that jagged edge she'd find the empty pool of pitch that you came from now home to a pulsing glowing ember, a leftover of the man you were afraid of becoming, only let free in your angriest moments. and that's you. the part of Penny that she hated so much for so long.

the thought comes unbidden, unintentional, less accusation and more realization but nonetheless painful, the stupid boy.

"i'm not a boy," you growl through tears, and Lena seems shocked for a moment, stuttering before finding her voice, "okay! okay, that's a good start. you're not a boy. what else?"

"i feel… angry still. angry like Dad. i hate… i hate that i feel like him, but… i don't mind the anger. it feels… right. for me. i don't know," you grumble through it in a small voice, then scowl and look away.

Lena hums. "you're hardly anything like Dad, babygirl. you don't stomp around the place when you're angry, for one. you actually listen to me, you've never hurt any of your partners, you never scream at anybody in the house. whoever you are, you're not him. i promise, baby."

for a while you don't really know what to say. your head is buzzing, muted and muffled thoughts like they're coming from the other side of a waterfall, just indistinct colors and mumbling.

all you can muster is a simple, "okay."

you stay like that, for a while. angry and aimless and unsure. Lena talks you through it, telling you what she knows and trying to give you advice as best she can, half-remembered from a late night rabbit hole she'd gone down, articles and advice from people who really were, and even though she stumbles through it and goes slow, fighting against the brain fog, it does help, in bits and pieces.

"giving yourself a name can help," she tells you early on, and the thought burns bright in your mind.

a name…