Rainbow Crash by Frostybox


                                            >"Rainbow Dash?"

                                            >You hear Anon call for you from somewhere else in the house.

                                            >Acting quickly, you rub your eyes dry using the hem of your shirt.

                                            >"Rainbow- Oh, hey, there you are big sis."

                                            >You blink a few times and turn, only to find yourself weighed down in place.

                                            >They said it'd take a few months to get used to moving with this damned chair, but it's been over a year and you still can't seem to get it right.

                                            >You firmly grip one wheel in each hand and make a coordinated rotation to face your younger brother.

                                            >He is smiling at you, his eyes are as bright as the streaks of sunlight pouring over you through the open window you are parked in front of.

                                            >Gradually his smile fades as he studies your face.

                                            >Realizing it's slipping, he forces a fake smile and approaches you.

                                            >"I called you for dinner like twenty minutes ago Dashie. What? You think you're too good for my chicken burritos?" he jokes.

                                            >You summon up the strength to smile a little back at him, just to make him feel less uncomfortable.

                                            >His smile becomes a little more genuine upon seeing yours.

                                            >Have you really smiled so little that he can't tell when you're faking now?

                                            >You receive a playful tap on your shoulder.

                                            >Looking up you see Anon retracting his fist back, "C'mon sis, talk to me, what's up?"

                                            >His eyes are soft and full of concern.

                                            >And that just makes you feel even sicker to your stomach.

                                            >But you've dragged him down enough today, with your breakdown this morning after finding yourself unable to untangle the sheets around your feet after a minute of trying.

                                            >So you swallow down the pain, and hope you can keep it down long enough this time.

                                            "Nothing. I guess I... just got distracted watching the kids playing across the street."

                                            >Anon walks up and around you.

                                            >Your chair jostles slightly as he grabs hold of the handles.

                                            >Your head tilts forward as he leans his back against yours like he often does.

                                            >He hums, "Yeah, what've they got over there? A little baseball game?"

                                            "Started out as one, now they're just chasing each other around."

                                            >You can hear the handles creak a little.

                                            >Looking over your shoulder you can see Anon's knuckles beginning to turn white.

                                            >"They're taking a break now it seems. S'hot outside, I don't blame them."

                                            >Anon releases the handles and turns around to stand by your side.

                                            >You look up at him, he's smiling, but you can see the worry in his eyes.

                                            >It takes more than you thought to keep your lip from quivering.

                                            >"Why don't we get at those burritos? Then, if those kid's are still playing, we can... head over there maybe?"

                                            >He was hesitant to continue that sentence, testing your temper.

                                            >But you don't really have the strength to have one right now.

                                            >And those burritos do sound pretty good, smelled good while he was making them.

                                            "Yeah... maybe." you respond flatly.

                                            >Anon rests a gentle hand on your back and rubs it in small circles, "Maybe they can learn a thing or two about pitching from  The Strikeout herself eh?"

                                            >Hearing that self-proclaimed title gives you a small shock.

                                            >Your chest tightens for a brief moment.

                                            >You can imagine the pitch.

                                            >Two tosses into the glove and back.

                                            >How you space your ring finger just a little bit further to the right after tossing it for the second time.

                                            >The feeling of the thread digging into your palm as you grip it tight, but not too tight.

                                            >Planting your left foot down into the dirt.

                                            >Doing one short hop in the air to plant your right foot-

                                            "NO!" you shout suddenly, causing Anon to jump away from you.

                                            >"D-Dash?" Anon asks fearfully.

                                            >Your breathing is heavy, and your face feels very hot all of a sudden.

                                            >Your heart is racing, your legs ache, a sort of numbing ache that you can do NOTHING about.

                                            >Frustration builds in your chest.

                                            >Pain radiates up from your hands as your fingers dig firmly into your plam.

                                            >You are trembling now.

                                            >Then... warmth.

                                            >The smell of mint and a gentle pressure constructing your arms.

                                            >You blink away newly forming tears and feel a weight on your shoulder.

                                            >Anon is hugging you from behind.

                                            >His hands are clasped together in front of your chest.

                                            >His chin rests on your shoulder, with his head leaned against yours.

                                            >You know he wants to speak.

                                            >He's been your little brother all his life, you know him better than you know anybody else.

                                            >He's desperate to think of something to say to you, anything to make you feel better.

                                            >The way he repeatedly bites him bottom lip while he wracks his brain desperately calms you down.

                                            >Knowing he's here for you even at your most fragile, when everyone else would apologize and make things worse, or try to play off your situation like it were just a broken bone.

                                            >He does whatever he can to try and shoulder your burden.

                                            >"Uh, Dash I-I..." he starts.

                                            >You lift up a hand, raising it with the elbow only as he still has your shoulder pinned, and touch him on the cheek.

                                            "It's cool Anon, I'm okay now..." you whisper, largely because of how weak you feel still.

                                            >It's then that your stomach decides to speak up on your behalf and growls fiercely.

                                            >The room goes quiet for a few seconds before you feel your brother tremble around you.

                                            >Looking over at him you can see him trying his hardest to stifle his laughter.

                                            >Seeing his dopey face makes you struggling to keep yourself together.

                                            >He looks at you and breaks completely.

                                            >You join him shortly after.

                                            >Once the laughter dies down Anon releases you and starts walking out of the room, expecting you to wheel yourself like you usually demand to do.

                                            >But... right now-

                                            "Anon?"

                                            >He turns around to face you, "Yeah sis?"

                                            >You avert your eyes from his gaze.

                                            "I'm... uh, thinking maybe I should save my strength. F-for pitching a little after dinner... Do you think you could-?"

                                            >Before you even finish the question, he has already looped around and taken hold of your wheelchair's handles.

                                            "Say no more Dashie. Burrito's aren't getting any warmer after all" he goads, to try and keep the mood light.

                                            >The little smile on your face can't help but prove that it's working.


                                            >Anon opens the door to the bathroom.

                                            >Steam trails out of the room around him while he walks out, his hair still dripping wet and a towel draped over his shoulder.

                                            >He plays around with his damp head of hair, spraying droplets of cool water all over the place, and getting some of it on you.

                                            "Hey! I'm supposed to be getting my water from the shower's head, not yours."

                                            >He smiles coyly, "Yeah yeah. Sorry sis. You good? Got everything you need?"

                                            >You look yourself over briefly and run through the quick checklist of what you should have.

                                            >Satisfied, you wheel yourself forward going directly at your brother while he's occupied with toweling his head.

                                            >You reach out and plant a hand on his flat stomach, and gently nudge him aside.

                                            >The warm slickness that meets your palm is something that you should have expected but find the sensation surprising... and pleasant.

                                            >"Whoa- hey! You could've asked me to move you know"? he huffs, while clumsily moving to the side and bumping into the hallway wall.

                                            >You snicker as you continue past him, watching him try to rebalance himself.

                                            >Shutting the door behind you, you slump down in your chair.

                                            >The kids were actually still playing after you and Anon ate dinner and watched some t.v. together to let it settle down in your stomach.

                                            >They were a little wary of letting you play, but Anon convinced them that you were the best around.

                                            >Even as you are...

                                            >And, well, you actually went and proved it!

                                            >Sure they were young, but they had the drive.

                                            >Unfortunately for them, you still had the skill.

                                            >It was a little rocky at first, you started considering calling it quits.

                                            >But... he stuck with you, made you do a few more pitches.

                                            >And you actually started to get it back.

                                            >It took a little adjusting, but that ball flew out of your hand almost the same as it had before.

                                            >You sit up in your chair and raise your arms up high and back slightly to work some of the soreness out of your back.

                                            >You let out a satisfied sigh.

                                            >Then a slight gag as you get a whiff of yourself during the inhale after the sigh.

                                            "Phew, did I always smell this bad before?" you muse aloud.

                                            >The last time you got physical like this was well ove-

                                            >"You totally did!" Anon calls out to you through the door.

                                            >A growl builds up in your throat.

                                            "Oh shut up!" you shout back.

                                            >Anon responds with a hearty laugh that gradually gets quieter before being followed by a door shutting.

                                            "Jerk ass" you mutter to yourself.

                                            >Despite that, you find yourself smiling.

                                            >Today was actually a good day all things concidered.

                                            >You slip off your sweaty top and bra.

                                            >With shaky arms you hoist yourself up and over to the edge of the bathtub.

                                            >You fiddle with your pants button for a moment, there's a slight bit of pudge that hangs over the waist of your pants now when you are sitting.

                                            >Once that's undone, you zip them down and slowly shimmy your way out of them.

                                            >Now resting at your knees, you do the same with your damp sweaty panties.

                                            >Now that you've gotten them both off you feel your way towards removing them completley.

                                            >You hate looking at your legs, it always makes you feel sort of sick in your stomach.

                                            >You hoist your legs over the edge of the tub and set them inside now.

                                            >Leaning over, gets you in reach of the taps.

                                            >Because Anon went first, the hot water pours out immediately.

                                            >You fiddle with the cold for a bit until it reaches the perfect temperature.

                                            >You take a deep breath and try to slowly lower yourself into the tub.

                                            >Your arms give from both being weak from today's activity and also being slick because Anon forgot to wipe the sides of the tub again.

                                            >A grunt escapes you as you plop down onto the damp floor.

                                            >You scoot up some and watch the water pour over your feet for a brief moment before you pull the thing that sends the water out through the showerhead.

                                            >You close your eyes and let the hot water spray over you.

                                            >Surrounded by the thick air and feeling it seep deep into your tired muscles, you find yourself very at ease.

                                            >You sit there, unmoving, for a while.

                                            >Once you feel you've gotten the most pleasure you're going to get out of this experience you get to washing.

                                            >You scoot back, so the shower spray falls squarely on your chest and allows you to properly bubble up the shampoo on your head.

                                            >You rinse your hands in the spray and scoot yourself forward again with closed eyes to rinse your hair.

                                            >Once that's done, you turn the taps again and shut the water off.

                                            >The air around you is now slightly cooler, but still warmer than it is beyond the shower curtains.

                                            >You take your rag and body wash and get to scrubbing.

                                            >For sure you hit the pits.

                                            >Then the rest of your arms before tracing that down to your chest.

                                            >You scrub the underside of your chest, something you do take some pride in.

                                            >A very small tiny amount, but some.

                                            >You frown a little as you get to sudsing up the reason for having a slightly bigger chest.

                                            >Your stomach is softer, you can feel the skin through your rag, shifting just slightly as you bear down to scrub your skin clean.

                                            >You go further down, tracing circles on your hips and passing over to your inner thigh.

                                            >It takes a little shifting around before you can reach yourself properly.

                                            >You are careful not to get too thorough down there and to not let too much soapy water pool down between your legs.

                                            >You slip a hand under the shower liner and grab the edge of the tub to lift yourself up slightly so you can scrub your underside clean.

                                            >After that you try to make as quick work of your legs as you can before hitting the taps again.

                                            >You yelp out of surprise as the water comes from the shower head and not the faucet like you were thinking.

                                            >Forgot to push the thing down.

                                            >You do push the thing and water begins to rush over your feet again.

                                            >A knock comes from the bathroom door, "Dash? You alright?" you barely hear your brother call out to you over the sound of running water.

                                            "Fine! Just forgot set it on faucet!" you shout back.

                                            >You think you hear him laughing, but the water is too loud for you to be sure, "Alright" he responds before going quiet again.

                                            >You mess with the taps again before feeling satisfied with the temperature and pulling the thing for showerhead.

                                            >It pours over you and you rub your body all over with your hands to rinse the suds away and leave you with silky smooth vanilla scented skin.

                                            >You hum happily and feel VERY relaxed to sit in the way of the hot shower.

                                            >But, if you stay any longer you're going to get all pruny.

                                            >You turn the water off and pull the curtain back with a few tugs and a push.

                                            >You grab the edge of the tub with both hands and try to hoist yourself up onto it.

                                            >Try being the key word.

                                            >Your arms are shaky and weak, like they're not awake yet.

                                            >The hell?

                                            >You try again, but again can't find the strength to pull yourself out of the tub.

                                            >Front ways.

                                            >Backwards.

                                            >Even wiping the wall with your rag to dry it up a little and trying to lift yourself sideways doesn't work.

                                            >Frustration begins to set in.

                                            >You grunt and growl as you try to force your way over but your body refuses to give you the strength you're demanding.

                                            >This can't be happening.

                                            >You just played a little baseball!

                                            >Not even the whole thing, just some damn pitching!

                                            >Are you so pathetic that you can't do that and take a damned shower!

                                            >Is this... is that what you are going to have to choose between?

                                            >A little fun, or being just barely an adult?

                                            >Your face begins to get hot again.

                                            >This time Anon isn't here to calm you down.

                                            >Your face, already wet from the shower and with sweat beading on your forehead from the effort is becoming soaked even more with tears.

                                            >This is your life-

                                            >A knock sounds at the door, "Rainbow Dash? Are you alright?"

                                            "No..." you whimper out.

                                            >The doorknob rattles followed by a sear from your brother.

                                            >You hear footsteps going away and then charging back.

                                            >The door creaks a little the clicks and is pulled open.

                                            >Your brother is standing at the doorway with a plastic card in his hand.

                                            >You sniffle and try to get control of your breathing as you look at him but can't find the strength to do it.

                                            >Anon looks at you, then averts his gaze, "Dashie? What's wrong? Did are you hurt?"

                                            >You shake your head, as small sobs are beginning to overtake the sniffles.

                                            "I ca- ca- I can't get out..." you get out through choking breaths.

                                            >Your world goes dark and you feel a soft dry pressure around you.

                                            >You are compressed around your upper body and lifted up while accompanied by the sound of a grunt, before being set back down and feeling yourself up higher than you were.

                                            >The pressure lessens and light pours in as your cover of darkness slips away to reveal itself as your towel.

                                            >"There you go sis. Not a problem yeah?" Anon asks, forcing energy into his voice.

                                            >You sit on the edge of the tub facing the wall and away from your brother.

                                            >Completely silent, you don't have the strength right now to respond.

                                            >You don't want to have the strength to do anything.

                                            >You're already just a shell at this point, why bother with the charade that you're still Rainbow Dash?

                                            >She could get out of a damn tub.

                                            >When you look up you find that the tub is moving left to right and back again.

                                            >No, it's not the tub.

                                            >You're moving.

                                            >Or... being moved.

                                            >Anon is rubbing your shoulders with the towel between your bare flesh and his palms.

                                            >The feeling is... kinda nice.

                                            >Anon continues on in silence, traveling over on both sides to your arms.

                                            >The only sound in the room are you sharp inhales and quiet ragged breaths out.

                                            >Those and the sound of cloth on skin as he dries your broken body.

                                            >He occasionally gives you commands, "Lift your arms" "Turn towards me more" as he runs his hands delicately over you.

                                            >Your back and sides are completely dry now.

                                            >He takes the towel away and drapes it over your chest.

                                            >Your brother rests the edges of your towel in your hands, "You can do the rest right Dash?"

                                            >You don't respond.

                                            >Anon waits patiently for the answer that you don't want to give him.

                                            >Not just because you don't see the point-

                                            >In caring for something that's broken.

                                            >But because... it feels really good.

                                            >Eventually he gets fed up with your silence and takes the towel in his hands again.

                                            >He leans closer, you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, and begins tracing his hands over your chest.

                                            >Just below your collarbone at first, very small circles to put off going anywhere for a bit.

                                            >His breathing becomes a little more labored as his hands begin to trail lower.

                                            >You close your eyes and lose yourself in the sensation.

                                            >Feeling the touch of someone else on you.

                                            >Not the cold frantic touch of paramedics.

                                            >Or the detached touch of doctors and surgeons.

                                            >But a warm caring touch.

                                            >You hold your breath and in so doing hear his as he rubs your front all over.

                                            >Slow steady breaths.

                                            >Each one that grazes over your neck sends tingles down your spine.

                                            >He stops once he reaches your belly button.

                                            >You can hear his breathing pick up, become a little more erratic.

                                            >"Do you want me to turn you around Rainbow?" he asks timidly.

                                            >You nod.

                                            >He rises, leaving the the towel in your lap, and places a hand on your shoulder.

                                            >Peeking through barely open eyes you watch his flushed face looking away as his hand pokes around until it manages to slip underneath your knees.

                                            >He lifts your limp legs up and turns you around so you are now facing him.

                                            >His eyes still point towards the wall or the ceiling as he kneels down before you.

                                            >He reaches out and pokes you in the stomach, "S-sorry" he mumbles before correcting and taking the towel back in his hands.

                                            >Anon drapes the towel over your crotch lengthwise and uses the other end that dangles by your knee to continue drying you off.

                                            >The color on his cheeks, and the cute way he goes out of his way to avoid looking at you makes your chest feel kind of light.

                                            >You know it's not out of pity or disgust that he looks away.

                                            >It makes you feel... somewhat normal again.

                                            >Like you're still attractive enough to get that kind of reaction out of him.

                                            >His hands begin to travel above the knee now.

                                            >You imagine what it must be like to feel him on your body right now.

                                            >The pressure on your outer thigh as he plants a hand there to hold you in place while his other rubs up and down then length of your inner thigh.

                                            >You can feel yourself getting hot as you watch him travel higher, occasionally the back of his hand grazes far up the inner thigh of your other leg.

                                            >You watch with a strange curiosity as the droplets of water transfer over and begin to pool on the back of his hand.

                                            >He transfers over to the other leg and starts back over at the knee, looking much less timid further down.

                                            >Your heartbeat slows as you continue watching him carefully wipe the towel over your skin.

                                            >It's not until he's back on your thigh and slowly climbing up that you realize something.

                                            >You've been looking at your legs.

                                            >Since he started, you've been looking at them.

                                            >And you haven't felt sick.

                                            >And it's not because you're pretending they're not yours or something like you have in the past to get over it.

                                            >You know they're your legs he's rubbing his hands over.

                                            >You want them to be your legs he's rubbing every inch of.

                                            >He soon comes to a stop, his eyes glance over the towel laid over your crotch then away again.

                                            >Anon repeats this a couple of times, unsure of what to do.

                                            >He brings a hand up and touches the highest up on your thigh than you've seen him intentionally get to before.

                                            "You have to prop them up."

                                            >Your brother nearly jumps out of his skin and quickly withdraws his hand away from you.

                                            >He looks up at you with shock in his eyes, "Wh-what?" he asks baffled.

                                            >You nod towards the toilet right beside him.

                                            "You have to prop them up to dry there, I use the toilet."

                                            >Anon follows you nod then slowly brings his sight back to center, "R-right..."

                                            >He puts a hand around your ankle and slowly raises it up.

                                            >You watch as he brings it over to him and sets it down on his chest.

                                            >His face turns a darker color than you thought.

                                            >He is absolutely adorable right now.

                                            >HIs eyes remain locked to you knee as his hands slowly touch their way up your leg, coming away from you each time like you were burning him on contact, until his fingertips touch the last few beads of water that remain on you.

                                            >He grabs the towel with the other hand and plants it on your most upper thigh.

                                            >Quicker than before, but still slow and gentle overall he taps and brushes the towel against your nethers.

                                            >Once he thinks he's done enough, he withdraws his hand and switches your legs before forcing himself to do it again.

                                            >"Okay... done." he announces, rising from his spot on the bathroom floor.

                                            >His shirt is soaked through from having rested it on your wet hair and using his chest as a footrest for you.

                                            >He takes the clothing you had laid on the bathroom counter and holds them out for you, "Here, You can get dressed right?"

                                            >You can, having him dote over you for the last twenty minutes has made you feel a little more whole.

                                            >Not having to go through all the effort of drying yourself off has let you build back up some energy too.

                                            >But...

                                            "Do you mind helping me little bro? I-I know it's stupid... I'm the older one and I-"

                                            >"Hey! Don't say that Dash!" he snaps back, "I won't ever mind helping you Rainbow. Okay?"

                                            >The look of determination on his face sends tingles all over your body.

                                            "Yeah, thanks Anon."

                                            >He helps you slip on your shirt with no problem, and getting your feet through the holes of your underwear wasn't an issue.

                                            >It's only when he gets them up to you knee and wants to slip them higher that trouble starts.

                                            >He places a hand under your thigh while he pinches the egde of your panty with the other.

                                            >The moment he lifts your leg up so he can slip your underwear up you speak out.

                                            "Wait, I think I'm still wet."

                                            >He lowers your leg back down and withdraws his hand.

                                            >On it, the pointer finger has water collecting on it.

                                            >"Aww what?"

                                            "Sorry Anon, I think some dripped down my back from my hair.

                                            >Anon blows air through his nose.

                                            "Look, just take me to my bed. I can probably take care of things myself there."

                                            >He nods and slips your underwear back off of you and takes your sweatpants as well.

                                            >You open your arms and place them around his neck while he rests one hand on your upper back and slides the other down your damp lower back.

                                            >He lifts you up, allowing his lower hand to trail further, over your butt, and grabbing hold of your thigh so he can hoist you up proper.

                                            >He carries you bridal style out of the bathroom and over towards your bedroom.

                                            >You can't help but bury your face in his neck under the pretense that you're just trying to help support yourself.

                                            >In such a short time you've gone through a lot of emotional shifts.

                                            >Maybe this is the easy way out, but right now, in his arms it all quiets down.

                                            >You feel... almost normal.

                                            >Anon plants a knee onto the edge of your bed and leans forward to lay you down gently on the bed.

                                            >You keep your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him further down than he was expecting judging by the look of surprise in his eyes.

                                            >He tries to brush it off, "Okay, here we are..." he announces, looking away from you.

                                            >You're going to do this.

                                            >That much is already clear.

                                            >Hopefully he'll tolerate you pushing things just a little bit more.

                                            >You give him a gentle tug closer to you.

                                            >This gets his attention as he now has to plant his hands around you to keep from falling totally forward.

                                            >He looks into your eyes, "Whoa... wh-what are you doing Dash?"

                                            >You swallow nervously, each breath that comes out of your mouth is a little shaky.

                                            "I... don't know."

                                            >You keep your arms right where they are, clasped around the back of his neck.

                                            >"Rainbow?"

                                            >You pull him down.

                                            >He feels the pull and pushes back evenly.

                                            >You bite down on your lip and pull him even harder.

                                            >His hot breaths graze over your face.

                                            >"Sis! Th-this uh, isn't funny..." he says with worry in his voice.

                                            "I'm sorry, Anon, I need this" you plead with him.

                                            >His eyes go wide.

                                            "In the tub, I was feeling really broken. R-really... pathetic, like a waste of a person" you continue.

                                            >You can no longer tell what he's feeling, your sight is completely blurry with tears.

                                            "And you came immediately, held me together a little... Anon, it's been so long."

                                            >You can feel him come closer to you, his resistance weakening.

                                            "I just wanna feel normal again... just for a little while. Please, little brother" you plead with him through quivering lips and a cracking shaky voice.

                                            >His leg bears down on your waist.

                                            >Followed by his stomach coming down on top of yours.

                                            >You can feel the bed shift as his elbows come to rest on the mattress beside you.

                                            >Your body feels warmer as his body drapes more and more of itself over you.

                                            >Your arms come more to your sides as you he lowers himself.

                                            >Finally you feel his breath, the heat from his face just inches above yours.

                                            >You give one final pull.

                                            >Through blurred vision you see his bright green emerald eyes close.

                                            >And his soft lips on yours.