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The Standard Legal Stuff Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, sex between minors and adults, or any other situation, please check the story code before reading the text.

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my story editor & sometime web page designer. A better editor I could never find. One day there is going to be a very, very lucky lady who manages to snatch you up. If I weren't already married, you'd be dead in my sights. I hope you enjoy this little fantasy that I've created for you.

Sweet, Sweet Amy ~ Chapter II ~ Steve

Story Codes: M/g, Incest, Romantic, Consensual
Posted: 5 July 2009

It's so hard to believe that it's been this long since all of this started. Twenty-five years since my brother-in-law was killed, and twenty years since my sister died of pancreatic cancer. Also, about twenty years since my world was turned upside down by a beautiful little ten-year-old girl.

My sister Heather and I had always been close. We were close in age, just three years apart, she being the oldest. Still, in many ways, she always looked up to me. I was always kind of mature for my age as a kid. We were more like best friends than we were brother and sister. For whatever reason, our parents never paid much attention to us - it was almost like we were just there - part of the furniture. Not that they were ever mean to us, they weren't. They just had other things to do than deal with two kids. So, Heather and I grew up pretty much taking care of each other.

The day that she got married was a strange day for me. She took my breath away, she was so beautiful. Yet, I felt a twinge of jealousy, too, because I knew that this meant that she'd be spending less time with me now. As little consolation as it was, I tried to take some comfort in knowing that she was happy, and that this is the way that things are supposed to be.

Heather was pregnant almost immediately. David, my brother-in-law, was completely ecstatic. Truth be told, even though I felt some jealousy about him having taken Heather away from me, he was a good man. He truly loved my sister, and he was never anything but good to her. When Amy was born, he was an amazingly good father. He loved that little girl more than life itself, and it seemed that everything was on a good track for the three of them.

Then I got the phone call. It was a state police officer, who was at my sister's house. He was calling to tell me that I needed to come, because my brother-in-law had been killed in a car accident, and my sister wasn't dealing with it well at all. I dropped everything, rushed out the door, and got to my sister's in record time.

I found Heather completely hysterical, and Amy clinging desperately to the state police officer, who was holding her gently in his arms. I think she was mostly frightened at what was going on with her mother. Quietly, I asked him to give me a moment, and he just nodded. I quickly made my way to the bathroom, and found the sleeping pills that I knew Heather had for her occasional bouts with insomnia. I read the dosage instructions, doubled what was written, and hurried back to her.

After I managed to get her to take the pills, and assured her that I would take care of Amy, I went and gently pried my niece from the police officer. She was terrified, mostly because she had never seen her mother like this before. She also recognized and knew that he was a police officer, and that she could trust him. Once I broke through her fear, she looked at me, and said in a quavering voice, "Uncle Steve?"

"Yes, Punkin," I answered, "I'm here, Baby. Come to me now, okay?"

She unwrapped herself from the state police officer, and wound her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist as I held her. I buried my face in her hair, and kissed the top of her head.

"It's okay, Baby. Uncle Steve's here now."

The state police officer quietly asked me if I was okay, or if I needed anything else. I looked up at him, and saw his eyes welled with tears. For some reason, that moved me beyond words.

"No, it's okay," I said. "I've got it now."

The next few days were a blur. I helped my sister with making all of the funeral arrangements, and did what I could to help out at home with Amy. I stayed with them for about a week - and moved a cot into the guest bedroom. Heather couldn't bring herself to sleep in the bed she'd shared with David yet. So, she slept in the guest room, and I slept on a cot next to her bed. The first night, Amy slept with her mother, but after that, she slid into bed with me every night, her back to me, curled into a tight, tiny little ball. I let her use one arm for a pillow, and wrapped my other arm around her, holding her close to me, letting her know that she was not alone, and that she never would be.

Slowly, things moved back to normal. Amy, though, had this constant sadness about her, and try as I might, I could never really seem to make it go away for very long. I spent as much time as I could with my sister and my niece, trying to help out. I took care of the yard, of the normal household maintenance projects that always come up. I tried to help Heather with money as often as I could, so that she could spend as much time with Amy as possible. Eventually, Amy began to light up again every time she saw me. For my part, I began to feel like a father. As far as I was concerned, the sun rose and set on this beautiful little girl.

One evening, just one of those, "Let's have Uncle Steve over for dinner" nights, things took a decidedly different turn for me. Amy was now ten years old, it had been five years since her father was killed. After we had eaten, sent Amy off to watch television, and Heather and I were cleaning the kitchen, my sister got strangely serious with me.

"Steve," she said, "if anything ever happened to me, I could count on you to take care of Amy, right?"

I stood and stared at her. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"Just answer me, please," she said.

"Heather," I said, "don't you think it's kind of morbid to be talking like this?"

"No, Steve, I don't think it's morbid. I think it's something that I need to be able to know has been arranged, just in case." She was beginning to worry me with this discussion.

"But why do you even think you need to ask me something like that?" I asked. "You know the answer."

"Damn it, Steve! I just need to hear you say it, okay? I need to know for sure that this is taken care of." She looked angry, and a more than just a little scared, which was scaring me.

"Alright, Jesus! I promise you, if anything should ever happen to you, I will take care of Amy. I will raise her as if she were my own daughter. You have my word on that, Heather. Is that what you needed to hear?" There was a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach now that had nothing to do with all of the food I'd just eaten.

Heather looked at me for a long, long moment, then sank into a chair at the table. She took a deep, shaking breath, and whispered, quietly, "I'm going to die, Steve."

Have you ever been kicked in the nuts? If you're a guy, and you have, then you'll know this feeling. Pretend that there's no pain in your balls, just that sick feeling that accompanies the pain. Your stomach feels like you just swallowed battery acid. That's what I felt.

When I could finally find my voice, I said to her, quietly, "What do you mean, you're going to die?"

Heather drew a deep, long breath, and then said, "I have pancreatic cancer. It's progressed too far to do anything about. It's going to kill me."

I was stunned. I moved behind her, and reached out, massaging her neck and her shoulders. She was my big sister, and loved her more than words could begin to describe. The thought that she was going to die was unbearable.

My voice dropped to a near whisper. "How long?"

"They think maybe eight months, at the very most." Her voice had copied mine in dropping to that near whisper. It was almost as if we could make it go away if we didn't speak about it aloud.

We discussed her options - there were none, really. Finally, I wrapped my arms around her from behind, and leaned in close to her ear.

"I'll be here for you, Heather. And I'll always be here for Amy. I promise, I'll take care of her for you."

I rose, and headed for the living room. Amy was on the couch, watching television with a distant look in her eyes.

"Hey, Punkin," I said, "don't you think it's time for you to get ready for bed?"

Amy didn't say a word. She stared at me with an odd look on her face for a moment, then just nodded at me, and headed up the stairs to get ready for bed. Fleetingly, I wondered if perhaps she had heard something, then dismissed the thought. When I could tell by the sounds coming from upstairs that she had moved to her bed, I went upstairs, tucked her in, and kissed her forehead.

"G'night, Punkin. Sweet dreams."

Going back downstairs, I asked my sister if she needed me for anything else that night. She told me no, then rose and hugged me tightly.

"Thank you, Steve," she said. "You don't know how much it means that you'll take care of Amy."

I hugged her back.

"Of course I will, Heather. You know that." I kissed her forehead gently, then turned and left.

And started the process of preparing to watch my sister die.

~ To Be Continued ~