Resume the waterworks!

As if just waking up, Theresa's eyelids fluttered as her senses seemed to return. Her face went from placid to panic attack in seconds, mouth opening into a loud gasp. She leaned forward, arms jutting out toward you, but she didn't move an inch from her seat on the bed. She didn't start crying like before, but there was certainly moisture collecting in her eyes.

"Please, Gavin, don't!" Her voice is frantic and cracking, words rushed. "Please don't break it, I worked so hard for that! I'm sorry, I'm really really sorry, I swear!"

You keep your grip on the trophy, gritting your teeth at the sudden, pitiful display your sister was giving. It caught you off guard the first time, but you feel a bit more prepared now.

"You're only sorry because you're not the one in control anymore. Tell me the truth!" There, now she's bound to drop this silly act. There's no way your cruel, antagonizing sister truly feels any remorse for how she's treated you all these years. She's just scared for her precious awards. They're all she really cares about.

"No, Gavin, I promise!" Even after your command, she doesn't calm down, still reaching for the trophy despite being too far away. "I really am sorry! I had no idea you felt like that! I never meant to make you feel like you weren't wanted."

Well, that proves it. Theresa is obviously lying. If she can disobey a direct order, then you can safely root yourself back into crystal clear reality; that this was all just some stupid game to make you feel stupid all over again. You still don't understand the endgame, but—

"I'm so sorry, Bubby. I'm a terrible sister..."

You freeze, a ripple shuddering up and down your spine. Bubby... Theresa hasn't called you that since you were both little kids. You got along back then. The good times, before she started teasing you. You stare at her in disbelief, searching for any kind of hint, any inkling at all that she's being dishonest with you. She wouldn't dare bring up such an old memory for nothing... right? Her sparkling eyes look right back at you, bare and exposed, reviving some of the innocence they'd lost years ago.

Maybe... just maybe... all of this is real. It's hard, it's so hard to try and accept that... but part of you desperately wants to believe.

"Damn it all..." You curse your negligible willpower, loosely setting the trophy back down on the shelf. Head hanging, you drag your feet forward and drop down onto the bed beside Theresa. With a heavy, weary sigh, you rest your elbows on your knees and stare at the floor.

You flinch, feeling something you didn't expect. Theresa's hand rests on your back, lightly rubbing one of your shoulders. Glancing her way, you see a face fraught with worry, still staring right at you. Her voice is quiet, almost soothing.

"I think we need to talk a little more, Gavin."

"About what," you reply coldly. Theresa grimaces a bit, but continues.

"You know what about." Theresa wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a small hug. Her breast presses softly into your arm as she tries to tilt your head to rest on her shoulder. It's strange, but... you don't feel like recoiling from her touch. This is already the nicest she's been to you in ages.

"I wish you'd spoken up sooner," she says oh-so softly, just for you. You can almost feel her breath by your ear. "Truth be told... heh, not that I have a choice, but I originally started goading and teasing you trying to get you to throw it back." Those words make you reel back from the hug, staring dumbfounded.

She giggles softly, but then winces with guilt. "It's true. I would poke and tease, call you names... and you just took it. You'd whine a little, I guess, and look kinda sad, but you never really responded. It got on my nerves, so I started trying even harder. Eventually... I guess it just became normal to push you around, and I stopped thinking about it."

There are so many holes with that train of thought. You raise an eyebrow, unamused. "You have got to be kidding me. You've been torturing me for years, and your brilliant idea was, 'Well, he's fucking miserable, so I guess I'll just make it worse'? I've been convinced for most of my life that you just hated me."

She shakes her head in earnest. "No, Gavin, I don't! I'm sorry. I know it sounds stupid, but we were just kids back then. It just... it turned into a habit. It was normal. I should know better by now, I know. Now that I know, I can stop. I don't want my owner to hate me, or think I hate him."

You groan loudly, rubbing your eyes with your palms. "Again with the owning thing. I don't want to talk as owner and property, just brother and sister!"

"I mean, it can be both, Bubby."

You shudder again. Why does that word make you feel tingly? This whole heart-to-heart with Theresa is making you super uncomfortable, so you change the subject.

"Look..." You sigh, trying your best to relax and think clearly. "As you've just watched me do, I can apparently... 'claim' things just by writing my name on them. I had a dream last night about this very concept, and now it's real. Or, I think it is... our moment here kinda confirms it for me." Yup, you've lost it. You're giving in to the madness. "You believe me, right?"

Your sister processes your words, slowly nodding. "If you tell me to believe you, then I do." Not the way you expected her answer to come out, but good enough. "So, you can claim anything?"

"I haven't tested it out too much yet, but... I mean, if I can claim a person, I don't know why anything else wouldn't work."

"That makes sense, yeah..." A bit of Theresa's impish mischief resurfaces as an excited grin. "Then, why don't you go claim some more stuff? Do more tests, see what the limits are? If you can claim anything just like that, then you could, like... take over the world!"

That... is a terrifying prospect. The world? Taking over your sister has already tied your stomach in knots over the course of an hour or so, how could you possibly manage the world??

Kneeling down, you pick the marker up and give your sister a little smirk.

"Let's try something a little smaller first, okay? C'mon."

"I can't get off the bed."

"Oh, yeah. Oops. You may stand." The two of you share a giggle and step out of her bedroom.