Authors note: First off by the time you read this it will be almost a month since Chapter 27 by far the longest I've put between chapters. Life got a little crazy for awhile and I also am working on something that I hope will turn into a major announcement in a couple of more chapters. Now onto this chapter. Like Chapter 26 this was originally two smaller chapters but I merged them. Also like 26 it has quite a bit of background information. Now if you have read Lex Talionis, the opening sequence of this chapter will look very familiar as it is the closing scene of Lex Chapter 5 but from Megan's POV. Although the views and votes on Lex were very close to what I get on this series I cannot assume everyone has read Lex. For those who have, and are awaiting the aftermath chapter, this chapter as well as 29 will deal with facets of it that cannot be done from Mark's viewpoint. This is part of the delay of Lex 6 as after several failed outlines I realized it couldn't all be done in one chapter from one point of view. The events that happen after Lex will affect the end of SWB so need to be put in SWB for the people who did not read Lex (And why didn't you?). On another note after this chapter and 29 the stage is completely set for the final few chapters. As everything from the past will be established and all the clues and hints are there to answer several of the questions left unanswered that will be wrapped up soon. Hope you enjoy and as always thank you for reading. Lovecraft68

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I was standing outside of Mitch's desperately trying to talk the police into breaking down the door and go upstairs where I knew my brother was trying to kill Max Thompson. I, of course, had told them the opposite; that I had called Mark and he was scared because Max was at his house and looking for him. The older of the two cops patiently explained to me that even though the truck next to my brother's car belonged to Max, it didn't mean anything. No one was answering the bell or the phone, and they had no cause other than my story, to break down a door. I started to try again when the younger cop had smirked and said that, according to what he found running my name, I wasn't exactly a reliable source. The older cop started to tell him to knock it off when he was cut off by a long muffled howl coming from the window over us. As the three of us stood looking around it came again and even louder.

"What the fuck is that a dog?" The young cop asked.

"That's a person." The older cop whispered.

With no further hesitation he took three steps and, slamming his shoulder into the old door, forced it open. He continued into the hallway with me and the younger cop right behind him. No sooner had we started up the stairs, then another long inhuman scream echoed through the hallway. The scream had frozen all three of us where we stood and I felt my stomach clench as, somewhere in that long animal like howl, I recognized my brother's voice. The howl was followed by a few seconds of silence then the hallway was shattered by an ear splitting shriek of agony that sent a chill through me.

"Jesus Christ!"

The older cop exclaimed and immediately ran up the stairs and down the hall way towards the door to my brother's apartment. The younger cop told me to get behind him and followed after. I brought up the rear my legs feeling as if they were sinking in mud and I could barely move. Another shriek echoed through the hallway followed by another. The older cop pounded once on Mark's door and when the only response was a heart stopping wail of pure anguish followed by what sounded like sobbing, through his shoulder against the door. The door held and I could hear my brother screaming. I whimpered out loud when I heard the words.

"Are... you... still...making... noise?!?!"

There was a pause between each word followed by a sickening sound of flesh on flesh. The cop stepped back from the door and lashed out with his foot kicking it just under the doorknob. The door exploded inward and the cop stepped into the doorway and stopped. Even from several feet away I saw the color drain from his face and he whispered;

"Oh my god."

Shaking his head as if snapping himself out of a trance he stepped into the apartment and I heard him call my brother's name and tell him to stop. The younger cop joined him in the doorway and I quickly followed standing behind him and looking over his shoulder into Mark's apartment. The first thing I saw was Max Thompson or what was left of him sprawled on the floor against the couch. He was covered with blood and I could see with the crystal clarity that one experiences in states of shock that his leg was snapped down backwards. His other leg was kicking rapidly and I realized he was twitching. Mark was standing over him with a silver platter in his hand ready to swing it down into Max's skull. In an instant I knew it had been my brother's plan all along; Max had all but killed my brother like that 7 years ago and Mark was going to return the favor. The cop yelled again and Mark turned around to face us.

I stepped back and brought my hands to my mouth in order not to scream. My brother was as blood soaked as Max and when he turned I could see that his left eye was shut and that entire side of his face was badly swollen. Mark's right eye however was blazing and in an instant I knew that after all these years he had finally lost it. Mark's eye was so dark it appeared black and his mouth was twisted into a vicious snarl that made him look more like a rabid animal than a human. As I stared Mark's lip curled up and I saw that even his teeth were bloodstained.

I wanted to call his name but couldn't get my mouth to open. My legs were shaking and the room was spinning. The first thought that was running through my mind was to turn and run. Get back into the car, drive to South Providence and replace a place to get a hit, forget about what I had just seen. At that moment the cop told Mark to get on his knees, after Mark cocked his head as if listening to something only he could hear, he dropped the plate, and stepping over Max, turned to face us. The younger cop stepped forward, reaching for his nightstick, and Mark smiled. The sight was hideous as only one side of his mouth was working and, even that side began to ooze blood, as his lip curled up. Mark then brought his left hand around and held it in front of him. I heard a whimper escape me as I could see even from where I was that his hand was broken, bent halfway around his wrist, his fingers facing away from him. Mark's right hand however came up and, as I watched horrified, he used it to wave the cop on.

In an instant I knew that this would be the end of my brother. My lie might help him if he calmed down, but now, Mark was ready to fight until they could put him down. Once again the urge to run hit me. I couldn't help here. Mark was the strong one not me. I began to turn away, unable to watch the sight of the cop swing at my brother. As I started to turn one thought suddenly slammed into my head; my brother would never leave me. Spinning around I called Mark's name as loudly as I could.

The effect on my brother was instant. His head swiveled to face me and his hand lowered. I watched as his head cocked again. The older of the two cops told his partner to back off and give me a minute. My stomach twisting, and my legs threatening to give out at any moment, I walked up to Mark and slowly raised my hands to his face. Mark's lip curled again and he took a step back. I swore I heard him growling in his throat. I put my hands on his shoulders and whispered to him that it was over and I was there to help him. Mark stared at me with that one hideous blazing eye then suddenly leaned into my arms. I winced at the feel of the sticky blood he was soaked in, but slowly went to my knees, taking him with me. I had just felt a surge of relief flood through me when I heard the young cop yell out that Max had stopped breathing. At that moment Mark's eye suddenly went blank and he whispered softly;

"I'm going away now."

I jerked awake, my heart pounding in my chest, and my breath coming in sharp gasps. Next to me Mark, who was lying on his stomach with his face turned towards me, slowly opened his eyes and, sounding more asleep than awake, whispered;

"You okay Meg?"

I took a deep breath, to make sure my voice would be steady and said quietly;

"I'm fine little brother, just thought I heard something." I kissed his cheek then added; "You know how it is."

Mark nodded slowly but didn't speak adding to my feeling that he wasn't really awake. Normally Mark, like myself, and many other abused children who had suffered through "night attacks" was a hair trigger sleeper and instantly alert the second his eyes opened. My brother appeared far from alert at the moment and once again I found myself wincing at how red his eyes were. Cigarettes, alcohol, and insomnia between the two of us we could own stock in Visine over the years.

"Bad dream?" Mark asked hoarsely

"No, just woke up." I said then kissed him lightly on the lips and said softly. "Let's go back to sleep baby."

Mark smiled at that and, after closing his eyes, made that adorable little cooing sound in his throat that I'm sure no one would ever believe could come from him. I lightly ran my hand across his back several times making sure he would drift back off then, reaching across his back, put my arm around his shoulder and hugged him tight. That nightmare had been a recurring one for me for years but I couldn't remember the last time I'd had it. Continuing to squeeze him to me I thought that I had almost lost my brother that day. Had I not been able to stop him, had he fought with the police it would have been jail or a mental institution for sure. As it was Mark did end up in Butler hospital for several days before he started speaking again.

That had been a nightmarish time in both of our lives. Mark's sanity was hanging by a thread and his entire future was in jeopardy and the only thing holding him together was his sister who was walking a very thin line herself. Between being unable to sleep, my body desperately craving coke and booze, and the overwhelming feeling of guilt brought on by the fact that it had been my stealing from my brother that had led him to meet Max in the first place I was in as bad a shape as my brother. Had Alex Warner not let both Mark and I stay at his place, and away from the press, and the detective who was cock sure, and of course completely correct, that Mark had set Max up, we would have never pulled through. Warner, I thought, as I lied there still rubbing Mark's back. That's probably what had brought the dream on. I had been reading and thinking about the Winthrop trial on the way over to Mark's place and Warner had been a huge part of that mess.

I still found myself shaking my head over the fact that fifteen years of friendship had been ruined over what, in the end, turned out to be pure stubborn ego. Warner had been more than a friend he had been Mark's mentor and big brother. Taking him under his wing and teaching my brother, everything from how to dress, and conduct himself around wealthy professionals, to how to score with women who were older and professional and not into the bad boy routine. Alex had also taught Mark the ins and outs of 'the game" as he always called it. The Game included who to befriend, how to keep your enemies closer than your friends, and ultimately how to destroy them. In the end, at least in this instance the student had mastered his teacher, as Mark had walked away victorious. Well at the time anyway. Something told me that it hadn't ended there and Warner, who could hold a grudge as well as Mark could, was sitting somewhere watching and waiting for Mark to give him an opening. Like being caught in a relationship with his sister I thought then quickly shoving that to the side thought about Warner.

I myself haven't seen Alex since a couple of years ago when I had come to town to visit and Mark had to work late one night. Warner had been in town on business and we had gone out to dinner. Alex had been beside himself with how good I looked and how successful I was becoming. It had been a great dinner and nice to sit with a man who years ago had seen me as little more than a drug addled tramp or at best an object of pity, and to now feel like his equal. Of course to prove that something's never change dinner ended with Alex inviting me back to his hotel suite to really get "reacquainted" as he put it. I had given him a huge smile and staring into his gorgeous features and electric blue eyes had agreed. Warner's face had lit up like it was Christmas morning until I handed him my cell phone. I then winked and told him what I had many times in the past; that if he wanted me, he could have me, but he had to tell Mark first. Prove he wasn't the type to sleep with his best friend's sister behind his back.

Warner had rolled his eyes and said forget it. I shrugged and told him he'd had his chance a long time ago and had chosen not to take it. Warner shook his head and said that he could have never taken advantage of me like that. At that moment, I leaned over and kissing him on the cheek thanked him yet again for everything he had done for Mark back then. Warner's response was to blush, which had gotten a laugh out of me, then to say seriously, something that he had told my brother many times in the past; that you didn't have to be blood to be family. So much for family now I thought.

Speaking of my brother I noticed he was out like a light again which, was surprising considering he had already been awake for awhile earlier, and like me, at that point, usually couldn't fall back to sleep. Then again I hadn't killed over half a bottle of Jack Daniels. Shifting my thoughts away from Warner, and the nightmare, I had to smile at the fact that there were very few men out there that could drink that much, get woken up a few hours later, and be able to fuck the way my brother had. The bad boy attorney at his finest I thought to myself.

On that note I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Since the Winthrop trial, Mark had become the most feared attorney in the state, and had even gained some national notoriety. Add that to his partying, womanizing persona, as well as his now exposed dark affiliations, Mark had quite the reputation. Today however the infamous bad boy attorney had folded completely into me, giving in to his one weakness, the one comfort he always sought, the arms of his big sister. Not only that, but although things hadn't started well, at the end not only had we both gotten what we needed, but Mark seemed content afterwards not even trying to talk about more, just simply enjoying my company. At that I had to admit that he seemed more relaxed than me. Then again, I unlike my brother could no longer seek the sweet oblivion of alcohol. Leaving that thought alone I turned my attention to my sleeping brother.

At the moment Mark was lying on his stomach, and I was on my side with my right leg draped over his and my arm around his lower back. I laid my head back on his warm shoulder and closed my eyes thinking how amazing this felt. Not just amazing but also just plain sexy, I could feel my nipple pressed into my brother's side and could feel the heat of my pussy against his well muscled thigh. I felt my body beginning to get worked up but wanted Mark to rest. Instead I just went back to the thought of how incredible it felt to be lying like this with my brother and wondering what it would be like to be able to have this every morning.

During our close to two decades as lovers, the longest stretch Mark and I had ever spent together were those few weeks after Krissy had broke up with him. That had lasted until that first night at Mitch's when I realized that we couldn't be for all the time. I'd had reasons and they were good ones; Mark couldn't have achieved all he had with his drunk and soon to be coke addicted sister at his hip. What about now however? The offer was there what would be my reasons not to have this now?

I lifted my head and propping myself up on my elbow began lightly rubbing Mark's back again. My brother was so out of it at this point that I wasn't even getting the little moans that he would usually make in his sleep. Looking to stop my mind from racing I looked down at Mark's amazing body and let my eyes wander across his back. Due to the fact that he spent well over a thousand dollars every couple of years to recolor them, the tattoos were extremely bright. Looking closely at the Baphomet on his back I could just make out quite a few long thin white scars that went across my brother's skin. These scars were the result of a lifetime of violent sex. The shorter thinner ones were from the tips of a whip the longer thicker ones were finger nails. As I lightly traced one with my own finger I was sure that many of them were from this nasty girl herself. Over the years my brother had been with countless women ranging from barely legal pets to models and recently a CEO. Now after all our years of chasing others and 'conjugal' visits with each other, Mark had said not an hour ago that he wanted his big sister to be all his.

All his. I had to say the thought of just Mark was an extremely pleasant one. I rolled onto my back and looking at our reflection couldn't help but admire how incredible we looked together; my long thin ivory skinned body stretched out alongside Mark's deeply tanned well muscled form. I closed my eyes and envisioned falling asleep together every night and waking up every morning in each other's arms. I remembered those amazing mornings when we were young and still living with mom and dad. My eyes opened as I also recalled the sneaking and the close calls and the lies. We would be living an even bigger lie now and a more dangerous one. The Winthrop trial had reminded me of just the kind of people my brother had fucked with and who would be dying for a payback.

It was obvious I wasn't going to fall back to sleep and carefully getting up, I grabbed Mark's red robe off of the hook on his door, and wrapping it around me quietly left the bedroom. As I left I noticed that it was after eleven. I couldn't remember a day that my brother hadn't gone to work this late. I walked back into the parlor and picking up my cell saw that Royce had called and had left a message. I put the phone to my ear and listened as I grabbed the cigarettes from my purse and lit one.

"Hey there next big thing you need to give me a call as soon as you can."

Shaking my head I dropped the phone into the pocket of the robe. I was already coming back three days early and anything Royce needed could keep for now. Knowing him he was going to tell me Walsh's favorite color and to make sure I wore it, or to warn me about Walsh being a bit of a dog. Well that was not going to be an option, first off, it was well known in certain circles that Walsh enjoyed cocaine so I would not be hanging with him, just working for him. As for any type of sex, on the day I left rehab I swore that I would never use my body for anything but pleasure. This girl would never whore herself again, even for someone like Walsh, I was doing just fine on my own.

I decided to go back into Mark's office to snoop around as I had been wondering about the picture I had seen in the garbage. As I walked down the corridor, I once again enjoyed the feeling of the carpet under my feet, as well as the cool silk of Mark's robe wrapped around me. In addition to the soft material it smelled pleasantly of Mark's Wings cologne. I found myself wondering what it would be like living with my brother, little things like coffee in the morning, who would cook. I thought back to the night in Chicago the way we were lying there watching TV curled up as happy as content as could be.

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