If you're reading this and are not current on Oxygen to Breathe, STOP. STAAAHP!

This was the original opening scene for the chapter Paper Thin Walls, but, ultimately, it didn't fit. However, I liked it a whole lot, and I didn't want to see it doomed to the wasteland that makes up my scrapped and unfinished Docs, so I decided I'd share it with you all. It doesn't particularly add anything to the story as a whole; maybe a little background info that doesn't impact the main narrative? Idk.

*Quick reminder for any newcomers who are reading this even though I said NOT to that "Jan" is a mistranslation of "Jean." Also, Madeleine in this case is pronounced MAHD-len.

Onward~


King sat at her dining room table facing sideways in her chair with her arms crossed and her long legs stretched out in front of her. She stared intently at her feet and realized with dismay that her socks were mismatched. Across from her sat Jean, who was resting his chin on one hand while he skimmed the medical records he tossed on the table earlier. Every now and then King would glance over at him from the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction as he read all of the terrible details about her stint in the ER.

"What exactly is blunt force trauma?" Jean asked quietly.
"It's just a fancy way of saying I got hit really hard."
"Oh."

Jean continued reading. After a moment he pushed the papers toward King.

"Nope, I don't need to read this anymore," he said, very obviously uncomfortable. King turned to look at the information sheet; he had reached the parts that detailed her sexual assault. Her cheeks flushed as she flipped the document over.

"Yeah, you don't need to read that."

The pair fell quiet again, both a bit embarrassed. King cleared her throat and took a sip of wine. She had poured herself a pretty sizeable glass so that she could maybe take the edge off while she talked to her brother about everything, but, so far, it wasn't working. At all.

"Why didn't you just tell me, Céc?"
"This isn't exactly something you just tell people, Jean. And definitely not your twelve-year old brother. 'Hey, kiddo! I can't hang out because somebody beat me up and raped me, how's school?!'"

King blinked back tears as she finished speaking. That was the first time she had actually said the word out loud since it happened. She covered her face with her hands; a sudden desire to become invisible threatened to overwhelm her.

"Yeah, okay, you're right."
"I know. And that's… part of why I had to lie to you."
"...Do you think you'll ever tell Aunt Maddy?"

"Absolutely fucking not!" King exclaimed as she uncovered her face. "If she knew, she would...! She'd say something… really messed up. I know it. I know her."

Jean frowned. "Like what?"

King took a deep breath and imagined how poorly a conversation with her aunt would go: She would hesitantly inform her that she had something important to tell her, which would be met with automatic suspicion. King's voice would crack as she delivered the news, and without missing a beat, Aunt Maddy would tell her something along the lines of, "You probably enjoyed it," before dismissing it as bullshit. She was always so full of compassion when it came to her niece.

"It doesn't matter," King sniffled. She couldn't help wondering what her parents would have thought had they still been alive. She had the feeling that they would have been much more supportive than Madeleine. Just thinking about it made her angry and resentful toward the universe. She grabbed the wine and drank what was left in one gulp.

"Jeez, Céc," Jean mumbled.
"I'm thirsty," King said as she put the empty glass down.
"But, really, what would she say that would be so messed up?"
"Don't worry about it."

There was a long silence as King wondered what to do: There was no way her and Jean could go back to having a normal visit together, as the weight of her secret being exposed was astounding. She wondered if she should just take Jean home: He would probably complain, and Aunt Maddy would accuse her of somehow neglecting him, but maybe it would be better for both of them to decompress in private.

"Are you… you're not gonna kill yourself… are you?"

King immediately turned in her seat so she could face Jean, who was looking at her very intently. She could tell that he was trying to keep himself composed.

"What?! Why would you ask me something like that?!"
"Because I've heard a lot of stories about people getting raped and commiting suicide. So…"
"Oh my god, Jean," King choked as tears started streaming down her face. "I would never do that to you!"
"...Promise?"
"Yes! Promise!"
"Good. Pinky swear."

Jean held his pinky finger up and out, toward his sister. She hooked her own finger around his without hesitation.

"I'm so sorry about everything," King said, her voice shaking. She took her hand back so she could wipe the tears from her eyes. "You should have never found out about this. Granted, I shouldn't have lied to you, either… but it's complicated. Sometimes you have to bend the truth a bit to protect -"
"You don't need to protect me, Céc…"
"Yes, I do."

King let out a deep sigh. She raked her hands through her hair as tears continued to cascade down her cheeks. She suddenly felt so, so drained; she couldn't do this anymore. She rose from her seat and tugged at the back of her shorts to make sure she was appropriately covered up before turning toward the living room. The second she went to move forward, Jean wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"I love you, Céc. I know you were just scared," he said, his voice somewhat muffled. "It doesn't matter who did what to you, though - you're still my sister, and I still love you, and you're still the strongest woman in the world and I'm never letting go so deal with it!"

King swallowed hard, but found herself smiling nonetheless. She placed a hand over one of Jean's arms and squeezed it gently.

"Love you back, kiddo."


There are no ending notes necessary here as it was all really straight forward. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Cheers!