Tom felt the crunch of ice beneath him before the world turned white. A sharp pain shot through his leg, and his skis clattered away into the distance. The quiet mountain air was pierced by his agonized cry. He lay sprawled out on the snow, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Mandy heard the commotion from the deck of the lodge, her heart skipping a beat as she heard her brother's name being yelled. People were shouting saying he'd been hurt. She had been enjoying a cup of hot chocolate by the outdoor fireplace, her thoughts lost in a book about ancient civilizations. Now, she was racing through the snow in her boots, her gloved hands clutching the poles of her skis as she slid down the hill towards the scene of the accident.

Her eyes widened as she saw the twisted shape of Tom, lying awkwardly in the snow, surrounded by a group of concerned skiers. One of them, a burly man with a beard, was speaking into a radio, calling for the ski patrol. Mandy shoved her way through, dropping her skis and falling to her knees beside Tom. His eyes were tight with pain, and his breath was shallow. She gently touched his cheek, whispering his name, trying to reassure him that she was there.

Tom's leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and she knew immediately it was broken. The sight made her stomach churn, but she swallowed hard, pushing down her fear. The others had formed a barricade to keep the gawkers at bay, giving Mandy a moment to process the gravity of the situation. Their parents were miles away, enjoying a much deserved getaway, and she was the only one here to take charge.

The ski patrol arrived with a flurry of red jackets and skis. They moved with calm efficiency, assessing Tom's condition and strapping him onto a stretcher. The sound of their radios crackling with medical jargon filled the air as they secured him for the bumpy ride down the mountain. Mandy followed close behind, her cheeks stinging from the cold wind and her heart thudding in her chest.

At the hospital, Mandy sat in the waiting room, her fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on her knee. The smell of antiseptic filled her nose, and the sterile white walls seemed to close in around her. The doctor eventually emerged, his expression grim. He explained that Tom had a compound fracture and would need surgery. The words felt like a punch to the gut, but Mandy nodded, her eyes never leaving her brother's.

The hours ticked by as she waited for the surgery to end. She called their parents, the tremble in her voice belying her attempt at calmness. Mandy felt the weight of responsibility heavy on her shoulders. This was her brother, her charge, and she was determined to make sure he was well taken care of.

When the doctor finally came out, he was reassuring, but the lines around his eyes spoke of the seriousness of the situation. Tom would need to stay in the hospital for at least a week, followed by several weeks of home care. Their vacation plans were shattered like Tom's leg, and Mandy knew she'd have to step up. She nodded, taking in the instructions, her mind racing with the logistics of the coming days.

The hospital room was small and stark, the only color coming from the dull blue curtains that surrounded Tom's bed. He was groggy from the pain meds, his leg elevated and wrapped in a heavy cast. Mandy tried to smile, but the sight of his pale face and the beeping of the machines made her want to cry. Instead, she took a deep breath and vowed to be strong for him.

"Hey, Tommy," she said, her voice shakier than she'd like. "You're going to be okay."

Tom's eyes fluttered open, and he managed a weak smile. "Mandy," he croaked, his throat dry from the surgery. "You're here."

Mandy rushed to his side, her eyes glistening. "Of course I am," she said, her voice strong despite the tightness in her chest. "You're going to be okay. You're going to have to take it easy for a while, though."

Tom's smile grew a little wider, and he reached out for her hand. "You're the best, Mandy."

Mandy squeezed his hand firmly. "And don't you forget it. Now, let's get you comfortable." She adjusted his pillow and fluffed the blankets around him, trying to ignore the ache in her own legs from the long day of skiing and the subsequent rush to the hospital.

The following days were a blur of hospital routines and paperwork. Mandy juggled her schoolwork with visiting Tom, her days stretching into long nights as she sat by his side, reading to him or playing his favorite games on her phone. She'd never felt more grown-up, more responsible. And despite the situation, she found a strange sense of pride in being the one he needed.

When the day came to bring Tom home, Mandy had transformed his room into a mini-hospital suite. She had moved his bed closer to the door to accommodate the wheelchair, and stocked the nightstand with water, snacks, and his favorite books. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, a stark reminder of the challenge ahead.

Tom's face was a mask of pain as he was wheeled in, but he managed a tight smile when he saw Mandy's handiwork. "Looks like I've got my own personal nurse," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Mandy rolled her eyes, but the tension in her shoulders eased a little. "And don't you forget it," she said, her voice lighter than she felt. She knew that the weeks ahead would be tough, but she was determined to make the best of it.

The first few days at home were a steep learning curve. Mandy had to help Tom with everything, from getting dressed to going to the bathroom. She'd never realized how much she took for granted her own mobility until she had to assist her brother in every movement. It was exhausting, both physically and emotionally, but she never let it show.

Tom, ever the joker, tried to make light of the situation. "I always knew you had a thing for playing nurse," he teased, eyeing the short skirts she often chose to wear. Mandy blushed, realizing it was easier to maneuver around him in something less restrictive, but the comment brought a smile to her face.

As the days turned into weeks, a routine began to form. Mandy would wake up early to help Tom with his morning care before school, then rush home to check on him afterward. She'd prepare his meals, give him his pain medication, and assist with his physical therapy exercises. Despite the constant demands, she found joy in the little moments, like the proud look on his face when he managed to move his toes for the first time.

Their parents called daily, their voices a mix of concern and gratitude, at how well their daughter was stepping up and taking charge. 

Tom grew increasingly restless, his usual boundless energy now channeled into a frustrating cycle of pain and boredom. The TV became their constant companion, the flickering screen casting a blue glow over their days. Mandy tried to keep his spirits up, bringing in movies and games from his collection, but she could see the sadness in his eyes when she left the room.

One evening, as she helped him into bed, he gripped her arm tightly. "Mandy," he said, his voice serious. "I can't do this without you. I'm so sorry you're stuck here with me."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. "You're not stuck with me, Tom. We're in this together." She gave him a gentle smile, tucking the blankets around him. "Now, get some sleep. We've got a big day of TV watching ahead of us."

The next morning dawned cold and bright, the sun casting a stark contrast to the somber mood in the house. Mandy woke early, eager to start Tom's day with a clean slate. She knocked softly on his door, her heart jumping at the sound of his muffled groan. "You okay?" she called out.

"Yeah," he called back, his voice strained. "Just trying to get into the shower chair."

Mandy pushed the door open and stepped in, her eyes immediately going to the struggle before her. "Here, let me help." She gently took the chair and positioned it in the bathroom, the warm steam from the running water making her nose prickle.

Tom sat up with a grimace, his broad chest rising and falling as he tried to keep his balance. The washcloth he held over his groin barely contained his manhood, which looked painfully swollen. "I'm so tired of this chair," he grumbled, his voice thick with frustration. "It's like I'm a fucking invalid."

Mandy's cheeks flushed as she averted her gaze. She knew she should be used to it by now, but the sight of her brother's nakedness still made her feel awkward. She focused on the task at hand, helping him into the chair and adjusting the temperature of the water. "You're not an invalid," she said firmly. "You're healing. And it's only temporary."

Tom's grip on the washcloth tightened, his knuckles whitening. "It doesn't feel like it," he muttered. "Everything takes so much effort."

Mandy's gaze hovered at the edge of the cloth, the outline of his cock pressing against it, demanding her attention. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her thoughts professional. "Well, you've got me here to help," she said, her voice a little too bright. "Let's get you cleaned up, and then we can figure out what to do about the chair."

Tom sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Thanks, Mandy," he said, his voice weary. "I just don't know if I have the energy for it today."

Mandy nodded, her eyes flicking to the washcloth that barely contained his cock. She tried not to stare, but it was difficult to ignore the obvious discomfort he was in. "Why don't I give you a sponge bath instead?" she suggested, trying to keep her voice steady. "It'll be easier on you, and I can help you relax."

Tom's face twisted in a mix of embarrassment and relief. "Yeah, okay," he murmured, letting the washcloth fall away. Mandy's gaze was drawn to his erection, thick and heavy against his thigh. She felt a flush of heat in her cheeks, but she quickly looked away, focusing on filling a basin with warm water and grabbing a sponge from the shelf.

She began by gently washing his face and neck, her movements precise and efficient. Each stroke of the sponge sent rivulets of water down his chest, over the taut muscles and the dusting of hair that trailed down to his navel. She tried not to linger, but her eyes kept flicking back to his groin. The washcloth was still bunched in his hand, and she knew he was waiting for her to take charge.

With a deep breath, she knelt beside the chair and reached for the cloth, her eyes meeting his. His gaze was a mix of vulnerability and something else, something that sent a thrill of excitement through her. She took the cloth from his hand, her eyes briefly taking in the full extent of his arousal before she draped it over the chair. The sight of his cock, thick and proud, made her pulse race, and she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

She tried to keep her touch clinical, but as she reached his stomach, she found herself lingering, the sponge tracing the lines of his abs.

Tom's eyes searched hers, the question hanging unspoken in the air. Mandy's heart hammered in her chest. She knew what he wanted, what he needed, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of desire in response. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and reached for the base of his cock, her hand sliding over the warm, firm flesh.