Fucked Up Family Pt. 03

"Oh ffffffFFFUCK!"

*

The highway patrolman strode up to the SUV like he was walking a runway rather than the crumbly shoulder of a sleepy, two-lane highway. He was dressed in all tan with a broad brimmed hat and mirrored sunglasses. He rapped on the glass, hard, and glared inside.

James rolled down the window, sheepish. The whole car reeked of dick and pussy -- sex, cum -- and James swore he could see the scent seeping out the window like sultry smoke.

"You were swerving pretty bad back there," the officer said, not even waiting for a greeting. His nose twitched ominously.

"I'm not drunk," James said, feeling like a teenager again in all sorts of upsetting ways. "Or high."

"I need to see your license and registration," the officer said. Molly reached over and popped open the glovebox. She rifled through it and gave everything to her father. James looked down at the pile of papers, almost shocked at how it had all ended up in his hand so neatly. He handed it to the officer.

The patrolman looked down at the stack of cards like James had given him a pile of used condom wrappers. "What are you doing out in these parts?" he asked.

"Just, you know, a regular old family trip," James said, "Camping at the lake. Good old wholesome fun. And the like."

"Uh huh," the officer said. He moved his jaw like he was chewing, but James didn't see any gum. Then suddenly the cop froze and stared right at Molly. Everything turned dead silent. Even the wind went still. "I'm going to need to take a look at these." He stepped away.

The cop strutted back to his car. James stared after him, still gripping the wheel like they were going somewhere.

"Hey Dad, can I have a tissue?" Molly asked.

The doting father looked over at his youngest daughter. His jaw dropped. The blonde girl's face was practically dripping with her Daddy's cum. Her pink lips were lined with white and a thin stream was actually leaking down her chin. Molly smiled back at him, happily, strands of semen stretching across her mouth.

James quickly dug out some old napkins he'd stashed in the door and gave them to his daughter. He passed another handful to the backseat. Christine, Austin, and Lexi were dressed (somehow), but they were clearly still sticky. The whole family wiped down, frantically, as if it mattered at this point. Maybe I can convince the cop we've been glazing donuts together, James thought to himself. In the car. While going 80 miles per hour.

This was bad. This was worse than bad it was awful. A ticket for reckless driving and a court summons was the baseline scenario and they'd be lucky to only get that. Every other possibility was far more likely and a straight up disaster.

James had told the cop it was a family trip, like it was so normal and banal. Meanwhile his family was covered in sperm and other stuff and stinking of sex. James had a career, and a high profile one at that. He could see the headlines now. Pharma Exec Caught in Incest Orgy. Pharma Phamily Phucker (That was the NY Daily News one). Even if he didn't end up in jail for corrupting his kids, his career was over. His life was over.

James was so lost in the horror of it all, he didn't even notice the officer had returned. The cop was leaning into the window, a strange smile playing across his face. He handed James his cards back. Then he straightened up and looked at the whole family very seriously.

"Pay a little more attention to the road," the officer said, "And enjoy your family vacation."

He clapped the door and strode back to his car. The whole Campbell family eyed each other. In a weekend of unbelievable events, this one was good enough to make the top three.

As soon as the shock wore off, James fired up the engine and raced back onto the highway, praying he could get away before the patrolman changed his mind.

*

Dr. Pulisic pulled up a chair and eyed the family sitting around him. There wasn't enough room in his office for all of them, so they'd agreed to meet in his waiting room. It had been a long day, and while his watch said it was only 8:30pm, it felt more like midnight. His shirt was untucked, his tie hung limply halfway down his chest, and there was a bright yellow stain from an earlier egg sandwich on his lab coat. He looked like hell and felt far worse.

Looking at the Campbells, however, made him feel energized and clean cut in comparison. The fact that they all seemed like legitimately nice people made it even upsetting. Their hair and clothing were askew. They were all wan, like someone had dropped their opacity slider in the Photoshop program of life. Their eyes were hollow. Their bodies thin.

Christine Campbell was an old friend. They'd met in medical school so long ago, Dr. Pulisic swore they'd graduated alongside sentient pterodactyls and woolly mammoths. She'd kept contact with him over the years, mostly over e-mails or when a medical conference crossed over both their fields. He hadn't seen her in person, though, for nearly five years.

He had to admit, through the exhaustion and the heartache was tattooed across her body, Christine looked good. Thinner and more toned than he remembered. Almost too healthy, in the way that suggested a kind of mania he was used to seeing in models and TV personalities. Her family (this was the first time he'd met them) was also magazine attractive. James Campbell with his silver-threaded hair and defined arms. Their children were all quite different, yet equally good looking. The Campbells could be the stars of a new drama on the CW. Although, after everything he'd heard, Dr. Pulisic feared he was more likely to see them on the next FOX reality show.

When Christine had called him -- frantic, weeping -- he hadn't known how to react. She was so emotionally overwrought, yet also completely nebulous about what she needed, he could barely understand a word of it. But the few remaining strands of their friendship and his overwhelming sense of professional responsibility had driven Dr. Pulisic to open his office on a Sunday morning and see the distraught family.

He'd run them through every test he could think of. Even brought in a colleague for full psych evals. He found an amazing amount of evidence to confirm what the family had gradually revealed over the course of the day, except for one thing: answers.

"I do not know for sure what happened," he admitted to the family, breaking the silence in the waiting room. He still had the remnants of a Croatian accent, and even he could hear it coming through as he spoke. It was hard for him to admit that he'd reached an impasse, but at this point all he could offer was a way forward. That would have to be good enough. "Whatever was in your bloodstream that caused this behavior is gone."

"What was it?" James asked.

"I cannot say for certain," Dr. Pulisic replied, running his hand over his bald pate. It was a nervous habit, he knew, but that didn't mean he could stop doing it. "There are some traces, some of your vitals are a bit strange, but nothing that points to a specific culprit. We also tested the medication that Christine provided. There's nothing in there that should be having this effect on you, but this is the risk with taking any medication that hasn't been prescribed by a doctor." Here he glared over at Christine -- she should have known better. To her credit, she seemed suitably chastened.

"So that's it?" Lexi asked, "It's just gone?"

"Well, clearly the effect of the medication is ongoing," Dr. Pulisic said, "Regardless of whether or not the chemical is still in your bloodstreams."

"But there aren't any other consequences," Christine said, "I mean, long term."

"As I said, some of you have some strange blood test results that I have to assume are connected to the medication you took, but nothing that I can confirm with confidence. There's no finding that's consistent across all of you however, and I have no reason to think it's anything harmful. I would ask that you come back to retake the tests and be sure, however."

"Well that's good news, I guess," Austin said.

"In the meantime, however, we have to focus on your current problem which at this point is behavioral. I've spoken to my colleague who interviewed you, Dr. Kim, and we've agreed on a course of action going forward. You need to go back to living your normal lives."

The family all looked around nervously. But, pointedly, not at each other. Dr. Pulisic smiled. "I don't mean right away. This has clearly had in incredible impact on all of you. It's a trauma, like PTSD, and you need to work slowly to make incremental change in your lives. Build yourselves back up again."

To Dr. Pulisic's delight, the family was all nodding along with him. He'd expected an argument, but at this point he was pretty sure if he told them he was going to give them electric shocks they'd agree to that, too. They all seemed so defeated. It made him feel even more depressed than before. He couldn't wait to go home and hug his own family, this reminder of the darker fates this world could provide.

The Campbells were legitimately nice people, successful, who'd found themselves in a nightmare from which they could not escape. What had they done to deserve this? Dr. Pulisic couldn't say. It was easier to talk them through the next steps than consider the implications.

"First of all, I want you all to take it easy on yourselves," Dr. Pulisic continued, "No one here is at fault. You've all undergone a tremendous amount of stress and you should feel proud of yourselves for coping with that, not ashamed. Now, I want you to go home and take it easy. If you need notes from me exempting you from work or school, I will write up whatever you need. Not to worry, I will not disclose what happened -- only that you've undergone something very traumatic and that it's medically necessary for you to stay home for a while."

Again, the whole family nodded. They seemed, if not relieved, then at least less miserable than they were before he'd started talking.

"Start finding small ways to enjoy life again. Go for a walk outside and enjoy the fresh air. Do a chore -- one simple thing like going shopping or doing the dishes -- and let yourself feel a real sense of accomplishment for completing it. Get a good night's sleep every night, eat healthy, and stay away from alcohol or drugs. Does that sound OK?"

"I mean, it all sounds fine," James said, "It always sounds fine. But then I... We get into these situations where everything feels out of control."

"Don't start all at once," Dr. Pulisic said, "Take little steps. Small things you know you can accomplish. Then try something a little bit harder each time. It's like physical therapy, but for your mind. If you have ACL surgery, you don't go out and run a mile the next day. You start slow, with rest and then careful stretching. You start walking, then running. One day you get up and it's like your leg was never injured. So, it will be with you. With this. But only if you take care of each other, respect yourselves and your family, and work to make things better."

There was a long silence. Finally, Molly mumbled, "Thank you, Dr. Pulisic."

"Yes, thank you, Josip," Christine said. The rest of the family said their thanks. They slowly stood and gathered their things.

"I believe in you," Dr. Pulisic said, giving each of them a handshake and a warm pat on the shoulder as they filed out of his office, "You can do this. When I see you next, you'll be well on the way to living your lives the way you were meant to. I promise."

*

It was weird for Austin to return home. They had only been away for a few days, but it felt like a lifetime. So much in their lives had changed, how was the house exactly the same? The furniture, the lighting, the slight scuff of the carpet on his shoes. There was a smell to the place, something that Austin could only associate with home.

Through unspoken agreement, family marched up the stairs from the garage, went past the kitchen, and settled into the living room couches. It was nighttime and the rest of the world seemed dead asleep. No one bothered to turn on the lights.

One by one, each family member took out their individual cell phones and made a call. Austin told his roommates that he'd be staying back at home for a while. They were surprisingly chill with it. They didn't even ask why, just said they'd see him whenever.

Austin called out of work, as well. He overheard his parents doing the same thing. It was weird, the whole family sitting there, each on their own individual cell phone. No one willing to look at the other, all having the same conversation.

"Thank you for your concern ... Yes, I'm fine ... I appreciate your understanding ... Yes, please keep in touch."

Once the calls were finished, the family shuffled off to their individual bedrooms. Austin noticed his father, however, turned down to the finished basement rather than the bed he shared with his wife. There was a fold out couch down there but still -- oof. Then again, Austin couldn't imagine being around anyone at that moment, so maybe it was more protective than punishment.

Austin found his room still decorated as he'd left it after high school: tiny twin bed with a navy, denim bedspread. Russell Wilson poster on the wall. He opened the nightstand drawer and found a stack of unused condoms. He started to laugh, then nearly tipped over to tears. Eventually he changed for bed and lay down, as if sleep was anywhere nearby.

That was where Austin still found himself at 2am: in his childhood bed, a nightstand full of condoms, staring up at the ceiling, still covered in glow-in-the-dark stars from his school's eighth grade trip to the Science Center. Austin usually slept naked, but that night he felt safer in a t-shirt and flannel pj pants. Except the room was also hot as hell and so he lay there, sweating, desperate to take his clothes off.

Austin groaned and got up. He decided he'd jack up the A/C in the house and see if that did anything. As he tiptoed back down the dark hallway, he heard something that sounded like a sob coming from Lexi's room. Without thinking about it first, he knocked on her door.

"Come in." Lexi's voice sounded thin. She was sitting on her bed, wearing a pair of tiny, baby blue shorts and a canary yellow tank top. Her hair was messy, her eyes were red, but she wasn't crying. She had the bedroom lights on, and they seemed particularly bright. Almost like a spotlight.

Austin felt awkward in his old room, but he couldn't imagine how Lexi was dealing with hers. It almost looked like it was for another person which, in some ways, it really was. This was Alexis' bedroom, the girl that Lexi had been before leaving for college. The room was pink and princess-y. There was a Taylor Swift calendar on one wall. A retinue of stuffed animals lined the bed.

"You OK, Lex?" Austin asked.

"Do I look OK, asswipe?" Lexi snapped, then sniffled. "Sorry. I know you're trying to... Sorry."

"It's OK," Austin said. He sat down next to his sister on the bed. Before the trip, before the pills, they'd had an angry, hateful relationship of shouting and shoving. After everything that happened -- and here Austin had a mental image of the two of them wrapped around each other in carnal fervor, practically drowning in a rainstorm while they plumbed each other's depths -- the siblings had found an odd kind of friendship. It helped that Lexi had admitted when she screamed 'fuck you' at her brother it was a desire, not an epithet. Still sometimes the remnants of their old rivalry slipped through.

Austin reached over and took his sister's hand. She squeezed it back. He felt himself grow hard. God, Lexi was so sexy. Her long brown hair and tight body. But no. Austin fought it back. He was here to comfort, not copulate. At least, that's what he kept shouting at his dick. It didn't help that every breath filled his nose with his sister's scent: a heady, sweet vanilla that sent him tumbling.

"At least my ankle's OK," Lexi said, rotating her foot around. "Dr. Pulisic says I just tweaked it. But what about you, Austin? Are you OK?" Austin wasn't used to his older sister caring how he felt. It set him back a bit.

"No," he said, trying to mock his sister's anger from before. But it came out more whiny than rough. The day had been hard. Telling the doctor everything meant also reliving it -- the highs and lows. Austin did feel better after sharing his story. The idea that they had a path forward, had filled him with hope. But that optimism still felt like a very distant glow viewed from the bottom of a deep, dark ocean of misery. "I can't sleep. It's weird enough with everyone around and then being back here in the house. It's just weirder. You know?"

"You're have quite the way with words, brother," Lexi said with a bit of a laugh. Hey! I just used copulate in a sentence earlier! Austin wanted to retort. But he let it go. Instead they both sat quietly and watched the moonlight slowly drift up Lexi's pink wall. Finally, Austin got up the courage to ask what he was really worried about.

"Molly kind of told me what happened at the lake," he said, "I know it's none of my business but, I mean, the doctor did say we should try to talk about things. Seriously, are you OK?"

"Everything that's happened, and this is what everyone's upset about," Lexi shook her head ruefully as she talked, "I'll tell you what I told Dad, Molly, and the doctors: it was consensual. Everything I did with Kim and Cole? They asked me for permission first. And I said 'yes.' To all of it."

"That was the drug," Austin said.

"Was it?" Lexi said, "I honestly don't know if that's true. Can you say, truly, that everything you've done these past few days is 'just the drug'? And not, say, a secret desire that you never had the courage to act on and suddenly did?"

Austin thought about it. He found he couldn't answer his older sister. What he'd done felt out of his control in the moment, but could he say that was the case for every instance? For instance, right then, he was looking down at Lexi's little boob, nipple pushing hard against her tank top. He remembered what it felt like to suckle on that lovely, tiny tit. How it felt as he flooded his sister's cunt with his cum. Was that really the drug?

"Did they take advantage of me?" Lexi said, "Maybe. But I can't say I didn't want them to do it in the moment."

"But if it was under the influence of the chemicals."

"Chemicals that I took, willingly," Lexi said.

"Sure, but if you get drunk at a frat party, that doesn't give some dude the right to fuck you while you're passed out, either."

"I let them do it, Austin. I swear I did. And while it was scary and weird, it was also wonderful. Like with a lot of things that happened this weekend. No one took advantage of me. I wanted it. I swear I did."

Austin looked down at his bare feet. They looked large and strange, like they belonged to a different person. A lot of this felt like it was happening to someone else. It had to, because otherwise he wasn't sure how he was going to live with himself. It wasn't what they'd done -- he knew that guilt would pass over time. Become a little dark spot on a nearly endless horizon. It was what he still wanted to do, desperately. That was what haunted him. Would haunt him forever, probably

"I'm going to try to get some sleep," Lexi said, shoving her younger brother lightly on the shoulder, affectionate but rough. Just the way Lexi likes it, Austin thought, ashamed and aroused that he knew such a thing. He nodded glumly and stood. As he was about to leave the room, Lexi called after him.

"Austin?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll tell you something else. Those two college kids. The ones I was with? They weren't a couple. They were brother and sister." Lexi said it again, slowly for effect, "Brother and sister. Just like us."