Davey's Destiny-- Part 3

[Rowan]

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? Three ?

I slipped my empty cereal bowl into the sink, deciding I?d wait until Davey came down for breakfast before I washed the dishes. He was a sound sleeper and I was an early riser, so we didn?t usually eat together in the mornings.

Yesterday had been interesting. Finding clothes for an eight year old boy with a body thicker than a lot of adults proved to be a challenge. Most things that fit him across the chest and shoulders were too long for him. And pants had been damned near impossible to find off the rack? his waist was still relatively small, but his thighs were enormous. Eventually, though, we did find a few things. It was good that we didn?t buy much. I had a feeling that we?d need to get some outfits custom fitted for him soon.

I grinned when I thought about the things he settled on. Most of his shirts were almost identical to ones I had in my own closet.

It was good to be the hero.

"Justin!"

Davey came bounding into the kitchen and I looked up. He wasn?t wearing a shirt, and it was easy to tell that he was even bigger than he?d been last night. "Yeah, Davey?"

"Check out what I can do!" He put his hands on his hips and bounced his pecs independently of each other. "Isn?t that <i> cool?" </i>

So much power and control wielded by such a young kid was unnatural, and it was truly stunning to watch those two slabs of meat leap like that. It took me a while to find my voice. "Th-That?s great, Davey."

"Can you do it?"

I grinned. "No, I can?t make them move separately like that. I can make them jump a little together though."

"I wanna see!"

My smile faded. Davey?s coloring was darker than mine, highlighting every curve of muscle to dramatic perfection. Not only was I less broad than my little brother, but my fair skin only tanned a little, and suddenly I wasn?t too keen on comparing myself to him. "Ah, no. Maybe later."

He pouted. "Come on. Show me."

"Later, Davey. Time for breakfast."

Davey stood at the kitchen door for a long moment. "Justin..." He walked up to me, grabbed my shirt, and tore it open easier than most people could tear tissue paper. His eyebrows rose as he stepped back. "You?re so... flat."

Shocked, I closed the tattered pieces of material around me. "Davey! This was a new shirt!"

"Sorry," he said, although his expression was far from contrite. "But it was ugly anyway."

I looked at my sweet little brother. Just yesterday, he?d been telling me how he hadn?t wanted to put on any of my clothes for fear of ruining them. What had changed between now and then?

"Now show me."

"After what you just did? Not a chance." I started to move past him so I could get another shirt.

But he stepped in my path, blocking my way. "Please?"

His voice was young, innocent, even pleading. But his face held a subtle determination that worried me. He was still a lot shorter than me, but I really had no idea how strong he was now. Could I push past him? And what would happen to our relationship if I couldn?t? I struggled with the decision a few seconds, trying to figure out which action would do the least damage.

Finally, I opened up my torn shirt and flexed my chest muscles as hard as I could. Any other day, I would have been impressed by my own performance? I?d always been proud of my athletic body? but right now I just wanted to be covered up. "There," I said, repeating the action a couple times. "You happy?"

Davey stared at my chest a little while before lifting his head. "That?s it? That?s all you can do?"

My heart cracked, because I knew I?d just lost major hero points. "Well, not all of us are lucky enough to have pecs like yours," I said, trying to make light of the situation. "Now, go eat your cereal while I get dressed. Again."

He peered around me, looking very dissatisfied with the bowl I?d set out for him. "Cereal? That?s all?"

There was no pleasing the kid this morning. "Isn?t that what you have every morning?"

"Mom?s been making me eggs and toast and sausage." He looked up at me again and spread his hands to indicate the size plate he?d been using. The action also had the less than comforting effect of showing me his hands were the same size as mine now. "This much."

Made sense. He was growing out of control now. Naturally his food intake would have to increase proportionally. "Eat your cereal while I go grab a shirt. Then I?ll make you a ham and cheese omelette when I get back."

His face lit up and he spun me around, pushing me toward the stove. "You start it, and I?ll run right up to get you something to wear, okay?"

I was glad for the enthusiasm. Anything was better than the disappointment I?d seen in his face a few seconds ago. "Sure, Davey."

He started to run out of the kitchen before pausing to look back at me. "Justin?"

"Yeah?" I placed a skillet on the stove top.

"I-I really am sorry for ripping your shirt."

<i> That?s </i> the adorable kid I knew and loved. "How sorry?" I asked, my lips twitching.

"Really <i> really </i> sorry."

I pretended to heave a huge sigh. "Alright, then I suppose I can forgive you. But only because you?re really <i> really </i> sorry."

He giggled and bolted out of the room.

As I cracked some eggs into a bowl, though, I couldn?t seem to banish that tremor of worry. Davey had wanted something, knew he was strong enough to get it, and just took it. He hadn?t been raised like that, and I couldn?t help but wonder if whatever changing his body was wreaking fundamental changes on his personality, as well.

And if so, what did that bode for the rest of us?

*****

"Three... Four... Hey Davey... Five..."

He leaned over from the front of the bench, forcing me to hold an awkward position in mid-press. "How?d you know I was here?"

Still shirtless, I noted, and well into the afternoon. "How could I not? You sound like a herd of elephants every time you take a step."

"Aw, man." He scrunched up his face. "I?m not that bad."

My arms really started to burn from the strain of holding the barbell. "In case you haven?t noticed, pipsqueak, I?m in the middle of a workout here."

But Davey didn?t comprehend the full extent of my discomfort. Probably because I was trying so hard to hide it. "Is this exercise gonna help you hit the ball out of the park?"

With sheer force of will, I managed to keep my arms from shaking. "Working the torso, hips, and legs is actually more important than working the chest or even the arms. Although Coach says forearms are really important, too, for grip. And he would know."

"Then why aren?t you building up <i> those </i> muscles?"

Being that I?d lost so many hero points this morning, I struggled to keep my arms and voice steady. But it was a losing battle. "Because even though a strong core is important for swinging the bat, a strong <i> body </i> is important for life."

"Is that why? "

I couldn?t take it anymore. "Davey, for the love of Mike. Step off so I can finish this lift."

Finally he saw the rapid deterioration of my form. But instead of stepping out of my way, he placed his hands underneath the bar and lifted it out of my grasp.

"What the? " I bolted upright on the bench.

"You were having trouble with this?" He began to curl the barbell, watching the muscles underneath his skin do their magic. "How much does it weigh?"

I stared at him, dumbfounded. His biceps were bigger than mine, and they weren?t strained at all by his smooth, easy motion. "One hundred and ninety pounds," I whispered.

He glanced up, a strange look on his face. "Really?"

My hero points were going to be in the toilet by the end of the day. "Y-Yeah."

His right hand slid to the center of the bar. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he let his left fall away and continued curl it without the slightest break in his rhythm.

<i> No way. </i> Sure, Davey had big muscles now. But they didn?t look <i> that </i> strong. I couldn?t stop staring, and as I watched, I could actually see his perception of me changing in his bright blue eyes.

"I guess this means I can play with your weights now when you?re not around, huh?"

I swallowed hard. "That?s still not a good idea. You should have someone watching you."

"Why? You don?t."

How many reps had he done so far? And with no sign of tiring. "Yeah, but I?m older and..." I tried to think of something more to add, something to strengthen my statement, but I slowly realized that age was rapidly becoming my only claim of authority over him. "You could get hurt," was the only thing I could come up with.

"You?d be hurt by this way before me." To drive his point home, he opened his palm. The bar rolled forward, and he balanced its entire weight on his fingers. "It?s not heavy for me like it is for you."

God, what was he turning into? And his face... there was a darkness there I?d never seen before. "Davey," I said, careful to keep my voice level, "maybe you should put the bar down now."

For a second I was sure he?d just ignore me. But then he walked up to the bench and put it in its place. "I wanna see something." He turned his head to look at me.

Like I had this morning, I forced my tone light. "You?re not ripping up another one of my shirts."

This time, though, he failed to see the humor in my statement. "If I did want to tear it, do you think you could stop me?"

His calm observation of his changing situation chilled me. "Whether I can or can?t isn?t really the point, is it? I like this shirt, and you should respect that."

My eyes rounded when I saw his fists clench briefly, but before I could react his hands were on my body, dragging me over his broad shoulder. "That?s not what I wanna see, anyway."

It took me several, silent seconds for me to realize where I was. Once I did, I was hopping mad. "What the hell are you doing, Davey!" I tried to push off from him, but one hard, thick arm clamped over the back of my thighs while a powerful hand slammed down on my back, totally immobilizing me.

He didn?t answer, just started walking out of the basement.

Which was when I really started to struggle. "Dammit, Davey! Put me down right now!" I tried kicking at him, but my legs were pinned against his chest. I tried twisting out of his grip, but he had me pressed tight against his shoulder with just his hand.

Panic overcame me as he climbed the stairs and I began to beat on the wide expanse of his back with my fists, with my elbows. I was actually trying to hurt him at this point. Trying to hurt Davey. My own brother.

Not that it did me any good.

My blows didn?t even slow him down. I?ve been in a scrap or two in my life, against guys twice my size, but never had I been so utterly powerless against someone.

He didn?t speak as he climbed the flight of stairs leading to the second floor. My hands and elbows hurt as if I?d been beating them against a brick wall. There had been no give in his muscles whatsoever. Yesterday he hadn?t been so hard, had he?

I finally had to stop fighting. I could feel the bruises forming on my skin, and if I kept up with the futility I?d be in a world of hurt come baseball practice tomorrow.

Davey carried me into the upstairs bathroom and set me down on the scale. I tried to bolt, and his grip on my waist tightened painfully. "Be still." He drew his hands away and held up a finger. "Don?t move."

There wasn?t any choice but to obey.

He moved around me to look at the numbers on the scale. "156. You?re lighter than that weight you were lifting." He glanced up at me. "No wonder you were so easy to get up here."

Despite the pain in my hands, I clenched my fists, filled with a rage I couldn?t do anything about.

"My turn." He grabbed me by the waist again, easily lifted me up, and set me aside. "Stay there. If you try to run, I?ll drag you back here. You haven?t seen exactly how fast I am yet."

My jaw tightened, but I didn?t argue.

He stepped on the scale. "193. That means I weigh 37 pounds more than you."

Davey had never been very good at math. Usually he needed my help even with simple addition and subtraction. But apparently that was over now, too. I stared down at my feet, wondering how things could have gone so badly so quickly, trying to understand that my 8 year old brother now outweighed me by almost <i> forty pounds. </i> Every ounce of it muscle.

He hopped off the scale and moved close enough so that I had to look at him again. His head tilted back, and his blue eyes narrowed. "This is wrong. You shouldn?t be looking down on me."

My eyebrows drew together. "And exactly how should I be looking at you, Davey?"

His big hands clamped over my shoulders and with calculated, deliberate slowness, he forced me downward.

Realizing what he was doing, I locked my knees as I tried to resist him. "I?m not kneeling before you, little brother." But it was an empty declaration. My entire body shook from the effort, while his arms looked totally relaxed.

He was playing with me.

The pressure gradually increased, my legs finally buckled, and I went down.

"That was easy," he said, grinning at me. "I bet I could have done it with just one hand."

My throat constricted as I stared at him. From this angle it was evident how truly huge Davey had become. The width of his shoulders dwarfed my own. His pecs were little more than two slabs of rock hard meat jutting out from his chest. His abs held deep grooves separating each muscle. His lats were beginning to look like bona fide wings. And his arms... well I knew first hand how strong his arms were.

His smile faded. "Yeah, this is right. This is how it should be."

It didn?t even sound like my brother. Knowing it was useless, but needing to try, I struggled to get to my feet again. I gripped his forearms and pushed up on them with everything I had, with no effect. Davey just watched me, holding me to the cold tiled floor. Not once had I thought this would ever happen. Not when he first started changing, not when he?d picked me up yesterday to spin me around, not even this morning when he?d ripped open my shirt all the way down the middle. But it did happen. And there was no going back.

I was terrified of Davey.

He saw it in my face. I know he did. But there was nothing I could do to hide it.

"Don?t worry, big brother," he said, his tone mocking. "In a little while you?ll be looking up at me even when you?re on your feet. <i> Everyone </i> will."

Somehow, I managed to find my voice. "Davey? "

"And I?ll keep calling you ?big? brother until I?m taller than you. Even though that?s the <i> only </i> way you?re bigger than me."

"Th-That?s not why? "

"I?m being nice to you, Justin. You should say thank you."

His grip tightened on me, causing white hot shards of pain to lance through my shoulders. "Y-You?re hurting me."

"Say it."

Didn?t he realize what he was doing? That if he closed his fingers any more, he might start crushing bones? I stared at him, looking at his baby blue eyes. They were flat, emotionless, and I knew there was only one way out of this. "Thank you."

He loosened his grasp, and I slumped a little in his hands. "It?s gonna be great, Justin. This is nothing. I?m gonna be so big and so strong. You won?t believe it. No one will. I?ll? "

Out of desperation, I started shouting. "Davey! <i> Snap out of it! </i> I?m your brother. You love me, and now you?ve got me kneeling in front of you like some kind of slave. Do you really like seeing me like this? <i> Do you?" </i>

He blinked a few times, but otherwise gave no indication that he?d heard me. "I wanna see something else." His powerful hands slid down my shoulders and to my upper arms.

I began to struggle again. "Davey, whatever you?re about to do, please, just don?t do it. Think. This isn?t you... This isn?t..." Oh god, was I actually <i> begging </i> him not to hurt me?

But his hold was almost gentle as he carried me to the full length mirror, then turned me around to face it. I was a pathetic sight. Still on my knees, with my brother standing behind me. And even then his lats and shoulders were frighteningly visible because he was so much wider than I was. I could even see his outer thighs, exuding power as he casually stood there.

He grabbed my shirt sleeve, as if he meant to tear it away. But after some hesitation, he flattened his palm and simply pushed the fabric up to my shoulder. "Flex your arm."

After all he?d put me through, <i> ripping my shirt </i> was the line he wouldn?t cross? Confused, angry, humiliated; I guess I wasn?t thinking with any kind of logic, because I tried to escape again.

Davey?s hands were lightening quick and I was back on the tile instantly. "You?re tired already, but I?m getting stronger just standing here. You have to do what I say, and I say flex your arm. After that I?ll let you up. I promise."

I shuddered, but didn?t move.

He cupped my elbow and lifted my arm. "Come on, Justin. Please?"

I locked eyes with him in the mirror a long, tense moment. Then I slowly flexed my arm. A good sized bicep rose out of it. More than decent for a guy my age, and I knew it. But the usual pride just wouldn?t surface.

Davey stepped closer to me and extended his arm behind mine. Suddenly my muscle looked pre-pubescent. The top of his biceps and the bottom of his triceps were easy to see in the mirror, and he hadn?t even flexed his arm yet. His face had a cocky, joyous expression on it. It was the look of someone discovering his own power, and realizing he was superior to everyone around him. He stood there a few seconds, simply enjoying the sight.

Then he crooked his arm, made a fist, and flexed.

My breath lodged in my chest as his muscle rose... and rose... and rose.

I could say that I?d never seen a rock like that on someone Davey?s size. But that wouldn?t be doing it justice. The truth is, I?d never seen anything like it on <i> anyone. </i>

It was over twice the size of mine, which was impressive in and of itself. His biceps looked about ready to burst free from his skin, perfect in shape, every striation screaming for attention. He leaned closer, put his head beside mine, and grinned into the mirror.

"Isn?t that the cool, Justin? Bigger than it was yesterday. Bigger than it was five minutes ago. And I?m nowhere near finished."

Another burst of fear overloaded my system and suddenly I felt... nothing.

Davey finally released me, crossing his arms over his powerful chest. "Do we have any ice-cream left in the fridge?"

I?m not sure if he saw the little shake of my head. I mean, I couldn?t even feel myself do it. For all I know, I just <i> thought </i> about doing it. Didn?t matter, though. I wasn?t really trying to tell him anything. Just responding to the sound of his voice.

"I?ll go check," he said, striding out of the bathroom.

I couldn?t get up. Not because of any physical damage done to me, but because something more fundamental had broken. I think I was in shock. Real shock. The kind that can put people in the hospital.

I didn?t notice as I collapsed onto the floor I?d been trying so hard to escape from just a few moments ago. Didn?t notice as minutes stretched into hours. Didn?t realize any of it until Davey came looking for me to fetch me for dinner.

He poked his head into the bathroom. "Justin? Why are you still on the floor? I said you could get up."

My back was to him, but still I closed my eyes, as if that could shut him out.

"Justin?" His voice grew uncertain. "It?s time for dinner."

I just lay there.

He touched a hand to my arm. I may have flinched, but again it might have just been on the inside. "Did I... did I hurt you?" When I didn?t respond, he gently put his arms around me and set me on my feet.

Then, and only then, did I open my eyes.

He linked his hands behind his back, causing his chest to warp the red horizontal stripes on the shirt he now wore. "Mom made your favorite. That chicken with the almonds on top."

I wondered briefly if I looked as dead outside as I felt inside. But the thought was only a fleeting one, and I couldn?t hold on to it.

Whatever I looked like, Davey couldn?t hold my gaze. He turned his head and pointed to the door. "W-We should go downstairs, or it?ll get cold. I won?t tell Mom and Dad you didn?t wash your hands." He glanced at my feet, saw that I wasn?t moving, then chanced another glance at my face. "Justin?" All cockiness disappeared as he tentatively took my hand and gave me a very light tug. "Come on."

Finally my feet started to shuffle toward the door. His relief was obvious as he hurried out ahead of me, but as soon as I reached the hallway I went in the opposite direction. I closed my bedroom door behind me and, without bothering to undress, crawled into bed.

Davey didn?t try to get me again.

At around 3am, the shock wore off. The resulting storm of emotions forced me to bolt upright in my bed. I looked around my darkened room, then down at myself. My breathing was coming harsh through my mouth, and my clothes were drenched in cold sweat. Shaking, I eased myself out of bed and stripped off my clothing. I grabbed a towel lying in the corner and used it to dry my wet skin before pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms. I tried not to look in the mirror beside me, but in the end I was too weak to fight the temptation.

Even in the dark, I could see that Davey had left two pairs of hand prints on my body. One on my shoulders, and one on my waist. I gingerly touched the bruised skin, but it didn?t hurt as much as I thought it might. Grabbing my baseball bat, I took a slow practice swing, just to make sure I still had full range of motion.

Looked like I would live to play another day.

It occurred to me that I?d managed to awaken from my stupor at 3am on the dot, despite the internal wreck that had put me there yesterday afternoon. But I?d been doing it every night for almost five years, and I guess I was hardwired for it now. A ritual. One I never missed if I could help it.

I propped my bat against the wall and stared at my closed door. Now that I could feel things again, most of it had settled to a manageable level. The humiliation and fear, though, still had my nerves humming. There was no reason to hang on to a ritual no one else knew about. Nothing was the same anymore, so why should this be?

And it?s not like he needed me to check on him anymore. Hadn?t for years, sure as hell didn?t now.

<i> Davey... </i>

A little growl of frustration escaped me and I grit my teeth as I opened the door. The carpeted hallway muffled my steps as I made my way to his bedroom. Davey couldn?t sleep without having the hallway light shining on him, so his own door was always open. I looked inside, saw him sprawled out on his bed, his blanked draped over his hips and thick legs. Even asleep he radiated power, and I couldn?t bring myself to go in as I normally would have.

His sleeping face looked peaceful, almost angelic. Despite the ever growing body, I?m betting no one would ever guess what he?d done to me.

Usually I watched him for a few minutes, at least. When I?d first started doing this, there were a few times when I stayed a whole hour. But that was in another life, and my role as hero had been canceled. Zero points left on the board. I quietly returned to my room, dreading tomorrow.

*****

Monday morning I walked him to his bus stop. I didn?t hold his hand. It?s not like he needed my protection anymore.

We didn?t speak, and when we reached the stop I didn?t break my step, just continued on my way to school.

"Justin, you?re supposed to stay until the bus comes."

His first words to me, and damned if they didn?t sound like an order. I thrust my hands into my pockets and leaned back against the bus stop sign, staring down at him.

He stared back at me a long moment, then took a step forward. My body tensed as I wondered whether he?d make me kneel again, this time in front of all these little kids. To my credit, though, my face stayed expressionless.

I think he was about to say something, but one of the other kids called his name.

"Davey? Is that you?" Sam Fitch, a boy from his class, stepped between us, oblivious to the new strain on our relationship.

Davey looked down at Sam, who had been two inches taller that him last week. A slow grin spread over his face. "Yeah, it?s me."

The rest of the kids waiting for the bus crowded around him. They made little sounds of awe as Sam asked him what happened.

"I?m growing," Davey said proudly. "More and more everyday." He lifted his arm and flexed it for all of his new admirers.

I watched his biceps rise, first filling out the sleeve of his shirt, then stretching the material taut. Any day now he was going to rip right through it.

"Gaw!" Sam lifted his hand. "It?s huge! Can I touch it?"

His grin broadened. "Sure." He moved his arm, pressing his biceps into Sam?s palm. The little boy?s fingers couldn?t even cover the crest of the muscle.

"It?s hard as a rock!"

In no time the other children, including the sixth graders, were pushing forward to get a chance to touch Davey?s muscle. Davey soaked it all in, enjoying attention he?d never received from them before.

It was a glimpse of the future, I realized. A microcosm of society, played out right here among the ankle biters. Soon teenagers would get swept into it, and then adults. All as Davey grew. And he knew it was coming? that?s why he?d told me that everyone would be looking up to him.

I wouldn?t have been bothered if I?d thought that admiration was all he was after. There are worse things than having a famous little brother. But there was something bigger, more ominous at work here, and it had already torn him away from me. Nausea sickened my stomach as I thought of how he?d treated me yesterday, and how he would no doubt treat others down the road.

The bus arrived and I straightened away from the sign, leaving him with his pint sized worshipers.

Davey broke from the crowd and ran up to me. "Justin! Aren?t you forgetting something?"

Fear knotted inside of me as I paused to look down at him, but over the course of the night, somehow I?d learned not to let it show.

He held up his hand.

My voice was as smooth as my face. "Getting a little big for those kind of games, aren?t you, Davey?"

He fell back a step, his hand still in the air, looking as if I?d hit him.

Time stopped. I stared down into his blue eyes, the only thing about him that was remotely familiar to me now. He was dangerous, powerful, unpredictable. But was any part of him still my Davey? Or had that been destroyed forever? The effort of sorting through my tangled thoughts and emotions made my head pound, and I gave up, lifting my hand. "Fine."

His jaw tightened. It wasn?t the same sort of darkness as yesterday, more the simple anger of a hurt little kid. He cocked his arm back and slapped my hand. Hard.

My own arm flew back with the force of his blow. It was amazing that I?d managed to keep my feet rooted in place. My palm throbbed painfully, but I didn?t touch it, because I still had some small amount of pride left.

He smirked. "You?re so weak, Justin. I wasn?t even trying." The bus driver honked his horn and he ran to catch his ride.

I always waited until Davey was on the bus. He would wave to me from a window and I?d wave back as it drove away.

This time I just turned and walked to school.

My hand continued to throb for the better part of an hour, but the pain had disappeared by the time practice rolled around. Where before my worries about Davey had hurt my performance, today I played like a demon. I was vicious with the ball, and when I ran bases I pushed my legs until they burned, and then pushed past the fire. My teammates shot me strange looks throughout it all, and even Coach, though praising my renewed hustle, seemed a little concerned.

I ran a few laps after practice was done. I didn?t want the other guys to see the bruises on my body in the shower.

Going home was at the very bottom on my list of things I felt like doing. Being physically separated from Davey had given me the time and space I needed to do something, <i> anything, </i> without fear wrenching me apart inside. I didn?t want to let that go. But I didn?t want him to know exactly how much he scared me, either. And so I went home.

As soon as I opened the front door, a solid wall of rock crashed into me. The impact slammed me into the floor so hard that for a few seconds I couldn?t see. It took a couple seconds more to realize all the air had been forced from my lungs. Trying to drag the oxygen back brought on a coughing fit that lasted over a minute.

Davey, almost 200 pounds of pure muscle, straddled my waist. "I must have really surprised you. You didn?t even <i> try </i> to wrestle me."

Man, he was heavy. And staring up at him with my back pinned against the floor made his pecs look like a powerful shelf looming over me.

He leaned forward, bracing his hands on each side of my head. A classic position of dominance, and it was doing the trick. "Tomorrow I?ll give you a little more time." He pushed off of me, getting to his feet and walking into another room.

I eased myself up, hissing softly as my body protested every movement. I massaged my chest a little as I grabbed my backpack, confused as I registered what he?d said.

Davey knew he was much stronger than me, and he?d made sure that I knew it, too. So why the hell did he want to keep wrestling me? As if I hadn?t been degraded enough. But apparently he was far from done putting me in my place.

I trudged up to my room and lost myself in my homework for a little while.

So that was Monday. It sucked. And it was downhill from there.

My life wasn?t my own anymore. Whatever Davey wanted, Davey got. Remote? His. Snacks? On demand, and since he wasn?t allowed to make them on his own (not that our parents had any real control over him now), he rejoiced in making me fix them for him. Playtime? He just up and went, no longer asking permission to go outside.

And... me. For some reason he wanted me. Didn?t matter what I was doing or where I was. Davey would come in, pick me up, and take me where ever he thought I should be, make me do whatever he thought I should do. Mostly he made me watch as he explored his growing abilities. He?d sit me on the back porch to see him slam a basketball into his kiddie hoop. He?d set me beside him on the couch so I could see how his improving reflexes helped him with video games. He liked me to see him jump rope so fast that the rope whistled. Loved making me keep count while he did one armed push ups for over an hour without tiring. Davey adored any activity that showed off his superiority.

About every couple of hours or so, I?d find myself grabbed and lifted into the air as he did effortless reps with my body, laughing as he told me that I was lighter than last time.

Davey also invented a new game. Like arm wrestling, but I was supposed to use both hands and my entire body against him. At first I could at least work his arm a little, but by Wednesday I couldn?t even do that much. I hated that stupid game. It made me feel like a shadow of who I used to be. But if I tried not to play, or if he thought I wasn?t putting everything I had into it, then...

Well, I don?t really want to talk about that.

By Thursday, most of the life had bled out of me. I was little more than a walking wraith haunting my own house. The only thing that gave me any kind of peace or happiness now was baseball. Because at baseball I was still a superstar. Captain of my team, and a man that everyone respected and admired. Just about every guy in school wanted to be me.

But, of course, they didn?t know anything about Davey.

After practice that day, I closed my locker door and just lost it. My ego and pride had been shredded, and the tatters of them hung off my limbs, weighed me down so much I thought my back might break from the strain. I dropped my forehead onto the cold metal, shaking with tears I refused to shed. Not once had I cried during this whole thing, and I was damned if I was going to let the guys see me break.

"Justin?" Brad Henson, my best friend, came up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Hey man, are you alright?"

Every member of our team redefined talent. Hell, people from all over the country moved here just to give their sons a chance to play with us. But there was no question that Brad and I were the very best. Five foot eleven and the quintessential power hitter, having shattered the school?s home run record his freshman year and every year after. We?d been friends since before Davey was born. Old friends, best friends, slightly more. We fooled around a little when we were fifteen. Spent a few weeks exploring our sexuality with each other. Nothing serious, just kissing and some touching. The experience helped the both of us discover things we needed to know about ourselves, and although we had landed on opposite sides of the fence, we?d always stayed close.

That was the only reason I didn?t suck it up and put on my game face when he spoke.

I shuddered violently, causing the locker I was leaning against to rattle. "Brad... you think maybe we could hit the batting cages today?"

I could hear the grin in his voice. "Batting cages? Man, haven?t you put yourself through enough today? You?ve been possessed lately."

My body ached all over, but not from practice. I finally turned to look at him, letting him see the emotional devastation that Davey had wrought on me. "I can?t..." My voice broke, and it was a second before I could go on. "I can?t go home, Brad. I-I just can?t."

He sucked in his breath. "Sure," he said, without hesitation. "Got all your stuff together? Cause we can hop in my car and be there in 20 minutes."

I nodded and reached down to get my backpack. Brad stooped to get it and slung it over the one he already wore. His hand never left my shoulder as he led me to his car. And that was good. Because if he?d let me go, I probably would have bawled like a baby, and neither of us wanted that.

One of the perks of being on a championship baseball team is that the owner of the batting cages will let any member of said team hit for free. And for Brad and me, there was never any sort of time limit. Which was how we?d ended up eating burgers well after nightfall, sitting on the ground inside one of the cages. The place had closed long ago, but Willie Mays (no relation, but that doesn?t stop him from being proud as hell of his name) said that we could stay as long as we wanted. We just had to make sure we closed everything behind us when we left.

I leaned back against the steel mesh, feeling relaxed for the first time in a week. "Thanks for this, Brad."

He took a sip from a soda and tossed it to me. "Anytime. Ready to tell me what had you so worked up?"

"Not especially, no." I told Brad most things, but I was gonna keep the secret of Davey?s dominance over me a secret for as long as I could. To my grave, if it was possible.

"Is it Davey? I know you were kinda worried about him before Spring break. He healthy?"

I looked away. "Yeah, he?s healthier than he?s ever been."

"That?s good, at least."

Needing to change the subject, I said, "So I?ve seen you running around with Cara Richards this week. I thought she only dated football players."

"She did. But after talking to me awhile she fell under the spell of my formidable charm. No football jock could possibly compare."

I laughed, for the first time since... I couldn?t even remember. "You?re just asking for a beating, you know that, right?" The football and baseball teams had a bitter rivalry going on. Shakespearean, even. And it had led to some truly legendary skirmishes.

Brad laughed with me. "Maybe. But she?s a nice girl and I?m a sucker for green eyes, so I?m thinking she?s worth the risk."

"Green eyes, huh?" I said, winking at him. "Is that why you let me kiss you?"

He picked up some fries and chucked them at me. "As I recall, <i> I </i> was the one who kissed <i> you </I> the first time. But yes, that was one reason."

We didn?t talk about that time in our lives much. Not because we were ashamed, but because it happened almost 3 years ago. And really, how many times does something like that come up in a conversation?

Brad finished off his burger. "Well, my friend. It?s getting late, and you know how my mom freaks when I miss curfew without calling."

I frowned. "What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "10:32."

"Already? Man, it seems like we never have time to just hang out with each other anymore, does it?"

"You?ve got that right." He got to his feet and stretched before helping me up. "You going to be okay with going home now?"

Despite everything, Davey was still a little kid who needed his sleep. So he?d probably gone to bed two hours ago, as per his usual bedtime. "Yeah, I think I?m good."

"Alright. But if you go back, and things are still bad, call me and I?ll come straight over to get you. Deal?"

Any wonder why he?s my best friend? "Sure."

"Cool."

We cleaned up our mess and Brad drove me home. I eased open the door. My parents had fallen asleep together on the couch, so I crept up the stairs as quietly as I could. I chanced a glance into Davey?s room, and his broad back was turned to me as he slept soundly.

Thank god.

I went to my own room, letting my time at school and at the cages wash away some of the stress my increasingly complicated life was putting on me. The relaxation I?d achieved today stayed with me, opening the floodgates I?d been struggling against for so long. I buried my face in my pillow and cried, mourning the loss of my brother.

*****

"Mrs. Jackson? I need to pull Justin Lawrence from your class."

I glanced up from my desk. Principal Carmichael was gesturing for me to come to him. I stood away from my desk.

"Gather your things, son. You won?t be making it back before the conclusion of class."

Thirty-two pairs of eyes locked onto me. I could feel their curiosity coming off of them in waves. I looked around and shrugged, then loaded up my bag and left the classroom. "What?s going on, Mr. Carmichael?" I asked when we were out of earshot.

"Your parents are here. They?re waiting for you outside."

"Is something wrong?"

He patted my shoulder. "Not as far as I know. They just said they needed to take you to a doctor?s appointment."

I frowned. "But I don?t have an appointment today. It?s Davey who? " My words cut short as things fell into place. "Oh, never mind. I get it. Thanks, Mr. Carmichael."

"Anything for the boys who made it necessary to build another trophy case."

I rolled my eyes a little, but not so he could see. Once outside I saw my parents standing a few yards from the school, Davey behind them and a little closer to the car. "Tell me exactly why I have to miss class to go to <i> Davey?s </i> doctor appointment?" I knew the answer, but they had looked the other way the entire time Davey had been torturing me, and now I wanted to hear them say it.

My mother was the first to try. "Honey, he really wanted you to go."

I crossed my arms over my chest. <i> Say it. </i> "And this was reason enough to pull me out of school?"

My father?s turn. "Well, he insisted."

"He?s an eight year old boy." <i> Say it. </i>

"He said he wouldn?t go unless you came along." Mom again.

"You?re his parents. You should have made him go or called his bluff and let him stay home." <i> Why won?t you <b> say </b> it? </i>

Dad lowered his voice. "Justin, he said he?d tear apart the house if... if we didn?t come and get you."

"So basically he threatened to throw a tantrum and you caved." My fists clenched tight, but because my arms were crossed, the action was barely noticeable. For a whole week they watched their youngest son systematically crush the spirit of their oldest, and not once did they say anything. I understand that they were just as powerless as I was, but they hadn?t even tried. Not even with a suggestion that he ease up on me. And that was the worst part, because Davey didn?t treat them the way he treated me, leaving me totally alone in my suffering. No way was I taking another step until they admitted they were cowards.

Mom and Dad glanced at each other, and then back at me. "Justin," said my mother. "Don?t you want to come with your little brother to see if he?s alright?"

My eyebrows rose and my voice dripped sarcasm. "Oh, I?m sorry. I didn?t realize I had a choice in the matter. In that case, I?m going to have to pass, because I have a history test 4th period." I turned my back on them.

"Justin!" My father grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around, desperation etched into his features. "We?re afraid of him," he whispered. "Afraid of what he might do if we set him off."

My mother came close too, also whispering. "We shouldn?t have let him do the things he did to you without at least saying something. But his attention is so focused on you, and we were afraid of it shifting to us."

Dad tightened his grip on my shoulders. Five days of practice had given me crazy skills in hiding the pain I felt now whenever someone laid a firm touch on me. Even my parents had no idea of the extensive network of bruises covering my body now. "Son... we?re sorry. We failed you as parents. But we need you now. It?s not fair, but we do."

I brushed his hands off me. "Whatever." I walked up to Davey. His body was stiff, his fists clenched so tightly that his arms shook.

"You can?t even give me any space when I?m at school, can you? Why so hell bent on me going? You want me to be there as the doctor declares how amazing you are?"

I know, I know. I?d gone insane. Davey could beat me to a bloody pulp if he wanted, and that fact was not lost on me. But some masochistic part of me wanted him to throw a punch, just so I could see if my parents would try to rescue me.

He looked up at me, his eyes like blue fire. "Doesn?t matter. You?re going." He nodded at our parents. "They may have to reason with you, but I can <i> make </i> you go."

There we stood in front of the highschool, two brothers staring each other down. I have no idea how long it lasted, but it was Davey who turned away first. His face tight with anger, he opened the back door and sat inside.

I slammed my hand on the trunk of the car before getting in next to him.

Two hours later, we all sat in the doctor?s office. The testing had gone on for most of that time. Dr. Harris, who had been both of our pediatricians since birth, nearly fainted when he saw Davey, and immediately ordered every test imaginable. Now Davey and I sat on chairs in front of his desk, while Mom and Dad occupied a love seat off to the side.

"Extraordinary," he murmured, flipping through several computer read-outs. "Simply extraordinary. I?ve never seen measurements like this on a boy his age. Thighs, 28 and a quarter inches; calves 19 and a half inches; arms, 18 and three quarter inches! His chest is 48 and his waist is 36. These measurements were taken when Davey first arrived, when his muscles were cold! All on a frame that is a half inch shy of five feet!"

I stared out the window, not bothering to hide my irritation. He was a doctor, for crying out loud! And he was gushing like some fawning groupie. Why couldn?t he act more professional?

"His body fat percentage is under 6%, his weight is 203 pounds."

That got my attention. I whipped my head around to look at him. "203?" That meant he?d gained 10 pounds since Sunday. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Davey smirk.

Dr. Harris nodded. "It confused me a little, as well. As far as I can tell, his muscles are quite dense, which seems to make them a bit harder and stronger."

I unconsciously rubbed my chest. "Just a bit?" My battered body would beg to differ.

"Yes, well," he flipped through a few more pages, "he?s quite strong. Above average for someone of his size, certainly. But still within normal parameters."

<i> Normal? </i> I glanced at Davey, and he winked at me.

It didn?t make sense. Davey loved to show off. But he?d played it cool today and kept the true limits of his strength a secret. A premeditated decision, obviously. But why?

A nurse cracked open the door and asked for a moment of the doctor?s time. He reluctantly rose from his chair, still staring at the little titan. "Excuse me, I?ll only be a moment."

As soon as he disappeared, Davey leaned over, put his hand underneath the seat of my chair, and lifted me up into the air. Grinning, he straightened and set me down next to him, only a couple of inches separating us.

Oh, I was pissed. Every goddam second of the day he had to remind me how much stronger he was than me. "You should have done that in front the doctor," I grit out. <i> "He </i> would have been impressed."

Looking back, I wish I hadn?t snapped at him like that. At the time, I didn?t realize he was just an 8 year old boy in a doctor?s office, wanting to be closer to his brother.

Davey?s brow furrowed, and then he snatched his gaze away from me, focusing on the medical degrees hanging behind Dr. Harris?s desk.

Most parents would have tried to say something to smooth the anger simmering between us. But as usual, mine sat quietly in the corner, watching everything, doing nothing.

Dr. Harris reentered. "Sorry about that. As I was saying? "

"Doctor?"

I glanced at my mother. She finally speaks!

"Yes, Mrs. Lawrence?"

"Is Davey healthy?"

That sugar coated adoration returned to his face. "Oh yes. His every response was textbook, as close to perfection a human being could hope to get. I?d wager that there?s not a healthier boy in the world."

My dad spoke next. Well, what do you know? Looked like they were finally trying to act like parents. "What?s causing it?"

Looking suddenly nervous, Dr. Harris started flipping through his papers again. "I?m... I?m not sure. His testosterone levels are a little high, but that?s understandable considering the speed and efficiency of his growth. Otherwise, all of his blood tests have come back normal. There?s absolutely nothing present that could begin to account for the changes in his body."

"Don?t you have any theories?"

Dr. Harris paused, then launched into several possible explanations. Ranging from exposure to electromagnetic energy, to a forced evolutionary jump, to unforseen consequences from genetically engineered food and pesticide.

It all sounded like a load of crock to me. I may be a jock, but I pulled good grades in hard classes at school, and in my opinion, our childhood doctor was talking out of his ass. Besides, there was one person who knew <i> exactly </i> why he was growing. Davey held all the answers, and he wasn?t telling.

The car ride home was dead silent. I stared out the window the entire way. I assumed everyone but my dad was doing the same thing, but really I didn?t care.

Once home, Davey stomped up the stairs. I did too, not because I wanted to follow him, but because I intended to lock myself in my room for a while. Halfway up, he spoke for the first time in almost an hour, his voice bitter and angry. "I bet you wish Mom and Dad would take me back to the orphanage, huh?"

I paused on the stairs. "What?"

He didn?t answer, just went to his room and slammed the door.

I ran after him, opening his door and walking inside.

"You should knock before you come in here."

"Why?" I asked, crossing my arms. "You never do that for me. Even when my door is locked, you don?t see any problem with forcing your way in."

He spun to face me. "And that?s why you want me to go back to the orphanage. You hate me!"

I stopped short, stunned into silence. Davey hugged himself, looking every bit as alone as I?d been feeling. Was it true? Did I hate my own brother? I closed my eyes, trying to sort through the storm of feelings that always raged inside of me now. Anger, yes. Humiliation, yes. Fear and sorrow, most definitely. Even a touch of envy. But hate... no, not a whisper of hate. And that surprised the hell out of me. "Davey," I began, opening my eyes. "I don?t hate you."

"Liar!" He knocked down his dresser, shattering it.

No hate, but the fear was gaining ground by the second. "Davey, you know I?ve never lied to you."

"Yeah?" He came up to me, his fists clenched tight at his sides. "Then how come you don?t hold my hand anymore on the way to school? How come you won?t let me slap your hand before the bus leaves? How come you do your homework in your bedroom now, instead of in the livingroom with me? How come you spend all your free time in the basement lifting weights? You won?t even hang out with me anymore unless I <i> make </i> you hang out with me!" Tears filled his blue eyes, making them shine brightly.

<i> Aw shit. </i> I?d fucked up. Bad.

"Davey..."

He dashed his tears away. "You didn?t come home last night! I thought for sure you?d run away. That I?d never see you again. Then I saw you this morning and I was so glad, but you weren?t <i> at all glad to see me!" </i>

"Davey," I said softly. "I don?t hate you."

But he was too wrapped up in his own pain to hear me. "I didn?t want to go to the doctor today. He?s always poking at me and his hands are always cold. And he uses big words that I never understand. I thought if you were with me, you could make things better, and you could explain things to me like you always do." His tears were flowing freely now, and his words came between little hiccups. "B-But you didn?t want to go, and I had to make you. And you were so <i> mad </i> when I moved you closer to me, but I... I just wanted to be next to you, cause I feel safer when you?re right there."

Safer? With me? I stared at my little brother, who was very much looking like the pipsqueak I used to know. For all his newfound strength, he was still just a kid. Which meant there was still a place for me in his life. Davey needed me, and I?d let him down big.

I put my arms around his broad shoulders and tried to drag him against me. Only his strength had built so far beyond mine that I ended up just pulling <i> myself </i> to <i> him. </i> His head tucked securely under my chin, his arms remained locked at his sides. "The truth is, you have been a monumental brat this week. But mostly I?m the one in the wrong. With you being so much stronger now... I didn?t deal with it well. I figured you thought I was some kind of insignificant toy, and all I could think of was getting away from that, because my ego just couldn?t take it. I screwed up as your older brother." I tightened my arms around him, although the gesture didn?t cause his body to give at all. "I?m sorry. I?ll try to make sure it never happens again, okay?"

Davey?s body shuddered hugely, so much so that he nearly broke my hold on him. Then he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight. The power in his arms began to bend my ribs, the stone hardness of his chest started to push my own chest inward.

"D-Davey," I gasped. "C-Crushing me!"

Instantly he loosened his embrace. "I?m so sorry, Justin!" He sobbed against me. "For everything I did. I didn?t know that making you kneel like that would mess you up so much inside. I swear I didn?t!"

I stroked his dark hair. "I believe you."

"I-I can?t even say I won?t do it again, because I have all these weird thoughts in my head now. Everything is changing so fast. A-And I?m so strong. I can do whatever I want. It?s so cool... b-but scary, too."

The force of his emotions made his body tense, which made his muscles swell, and the resulting pressure on me hurt like hell. But this time I kept my mouth shut about it. He was hugging me, pouring out everything he had, soaking my shirt with his tears, and I didn?t want to take anything away from that. "I?ll always be here for you, Davey. I promise."

His sobs grew louder. "You really don?t hate me yet?"

The ?yet? in his question made me pause, but I decided not to press him about it. "I could never hate you, Davey. I wasn?t sure about that until today, but I know it now. I love you more than I?ve ever loved anything, and that?s never going to change."

He continued to cry against me, and I continued to hold him. The storm inside of me finally ebbed, and I felt a renewed hope about the future. Whatever happened, we would face it together.

We were brothers once again.

[Rowan]

Parts 1&2 of the story can be found at:

http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php3?t=2397

http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php3?t=2448

******
Really, really sorry about the length. The scenes seemed really simple in my head, and before i knew it, the pages piled up on me. I hope I didn't lose anyone's attention.

-- Rowan

[/\/\usclekid]

Man, you're GOOD! You kept my attention the whole time, the mark of a great writer and storyteller.

Originally Posted by Rowan

Really, really sorry about the length. The scenes seemed really simple in my head, and before i knew it, the pages piled up on me. I hope I didn't lose anyone's attention.

No, no, no. You could have gone ten pages and you would have still had my attention (and that is no easy feat).

Originally Posted by Rowan

"Don’t worry, big brother," he said, his tone mocking. "In a little while you’ll be looking up at me even when you’re on your feet. Everyone will."

Somehow, I managed to find my voice. "Davey– "

"And I’ll keep calling you ‘big’ brother until I’m taller than you. Even though that’s the only way you’re bigger than me."

That was [COLOR=Red]HOT![/COLOR]

Please continue with this story!

[jsmith2300]

Rowan,

Another wonderful chapter. You didn't lose me for a minute - and I wanted the chapter to keep going and going and going. Well done!

I love the darkness of Davey in this chapter. The ending - of course - redeems him well enough, but I'm still suspicious of what is to come. The story isn't done yet, and I'm looking forward to more.

Again, GREAT job!

--JSmith

[Sanitarium87Q]

yes, please for the love of god do not hesitate to post another chapter, like, today!

Don't you worry about the length. Throughout my reading, i was actually dreading the inevitable end. I wanted to chapter to go on and on.

[SithSpawn]

Originally Posted by Rowan

Really, really sorry about the length.

Never apologize for length, just be glad it's impressive

[Adam]

This has to be the best story I've ever had the pleasure of reading on this site ! Chapter 3 exceeded my wildest expectations. Having the little brother growing stronger and dominanting his older brother is my favorite theme and you've handled it brilliantly! I loved Davey's arrogant displays of superiority and the scene where he made his "big" brother kneel before him was absolutely fantastic!

Oh, there is no reason whatsoever for you to even think about apologizing for the length of this chapter. Sanitarium 87Q took the words right out of my mind when he said he was dreading the ending, hoping that this chapter would go on forever. With writing this spectacular, the longer the stories, the happier your readers will be.

My hypothesis that something evil is fueling this change seems validated by the events of this chapter. Presumably whatever is responsible for this has plans for the perfected Davey. I'm guessing that as Davey's intelligence increases he will eventually be skipped ahead to high school, where he will usurp his older brother's place as the athletic super-star and maybe even as Captian of the baseball team.

Please, PLEASE get another chapter out as soon as you possibly can!!!

[Kymuscleboy]

Great chapter. It was not at all too long. It is nice to read something that takes a little time rather than just a couple of minutes. I really enjoyed the scenes where Davey is showing off his superior strenth to his brother, but I was surprised at how quickly it turned mean spirited. I hope that part of the good wins out in Davey, at least as far as his brother is concerned. It seems that there are bigger, badder accomplishments coming for Davey, anyway. Also, I hope that Justin can maintain his baseball dominance. He needs something to balance the complete domination he faces at home.

I may seem like I am too mushy, but Justin is a very likeable character. He's not like the cruel, bullying older brothers in a lot of these stories. Those types deserve whatever comeuppance they get.

I am anxiously awaiting another chapter no matter what direction the story takes. I hope you are able to post it soon.

[iceman75]

I was really impressed by this story man, don't worry about the length, as long as you got that kind of writing and action in it, you could have made the story twice as long and I still would have enjoyed it. I hope you write another chapter, would love to see Davey get even more muscular and stronger, loved when he curled the 190 pound barbell with one hand, and when he carried his brother around like nothing. Got to give us more of this hot stuff!

[Sanitarium87Q]

bring on more anytime!

and dont worry if the next one is longer than part 3 (hint hint)

[muscl4life]

For taking so much time to read this excellent chapter, I really loved the way Davey sounded like an arrogant bully, but only because the narrator is also a character of the story, therefore his opinion influences the narrative, when he comes to conlusion that it was HIM not Davey the one acting wrong, it is really touching moment - it shows how skilled you're as an author Rowan - Congratulations!

Your story is sure to rank among the best little big brother stories ever made!

Please, don't let us waiting in the rain for too long!

Bruno

[rextorres]

Rowan:

Finally, a story about a super strong muscle kid, who is a NICE kid, too! I love it!

Your story is SO good, it actually inspired me to look up chapters 1 and 2, and to save all 3 chapters in a Word document. And, I only do that to the BEST stories on this site!

Your Davey character is AWESOME! I love the way you portray the super powered muscle kid as a REAL KID. Trust me, I know. I've written 18 chapters of Superboy Jamie (almost 600 pages) and Davey is just like my Jamie character!

Your story is worth keeping! Your description of Davey is fantastic and your dialog is as real as it gets. Let the kid be a kid, with all the feelings, struggles and emotions. But, keep him NICE. Let him ENJOY his strength and power. Some day, he might help his big brother, when bullies come to school to pound him. Then, Davey will be the super hero!

I can't wait to read chapter 4. Your story is the first one I've saved all year! And, that says ALOT!

DAVEY! DAVEY! GO GO GO!

Your story is VERY inspiring. Kudos to you for writing an exceptional story!!

Rex

[bribear1042]

Rowan -

I was wondering when you were going to finish the Davey series. Surely you cannot leave your fans out to dry. Please finish, I am eager to see Davey continue growing.

Bribear

[skumbum]

I just reread this, it was better the second time

[Rowan]

Hey! Thanks! It's really cool that people are re-reading my stories. This part of Davey is my favorite, too, i think.