Writing prompt answers

The Sibling Protection Program

"I- I don't know what to do!" She half yelled, half sobbed in my general direction. I felt bad, I really did, but my patience had been wearing thin over the past few weeks, and this time it snapped.
"Leave her! Every time she does this, and every time you go back an help her! You need to stop!" I yelled back at her.

My wife's sister had gotten herself mixed up with the wrong kind of guy again. Which is fine, I don't give a damn (if you haven't noticed) but every time, every single time, my wife goes and pulls her out of it. Always saves her ass, even though she knows she shouldn't.

"Adam- I, you just... it's that you don't understand." The tears had finally made their way down her cheeks, her eyeliner traveling with them.
"I'm pretty fucking sure I do! Every time you save her! Stop!" At this point she had gotten closer, and her sadness seemed to evaporate in the increasingly warm air between us. Anger replaced it.
"No! You don't. She is my little sister. It's been my job to protect her since the day she was born! She gets herself into this shit more than she should, okay? I'll admit that. But if anything happens to her, it's on my hands. Not yours, or my brother's, or hers. My hands. It will be my fault, if she gets hurt. So I know I should stop. I know I should leave her alone and let her fix her own problems. But as long as I'm here- and I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon- I will keep going after her. I will keep protecting her for as long and as fiercely as I fucking can until the day God or Lucifer decides they won't let me anymore." She stormed out, her footsteps shaking the floor underneath me and her lingering breath putting me in a daze.

Once snapped out of it, I realized she was right. I didn't like it, but she was right to keep protecting her little sister. I threw myself back onto the couch behind me, wondering what it felt like to have to protect someone's life.

She would come back soon enough, her little sister in sobs and me pretending to be asleep in our bedroom. Just like the six times before. I guess I could say I'm lucky to be an only child.