Hi. You guys still here? Cool. Again, a reminder: King and Jean's surname is not canon.
"Céc?"
King raised her eyebrows and slowly turned to face her brother, who was looking at her with a somewhat strange expression.
"...Yes?"
"You're acting really weird." Jean frowned as he lowered the volume on the car stereo. "Weirder than usual, I mean."
"I am?"
"Pfft, yeah. You look… I dunno. Sad or something."
"I'm just… tired…"
"Tired" was probably the wrong word.
Having a nervous breakdown at work took a heavy toll on King, who was fully convinced she had cried out every ounce of energy she possessed. As a result, she spent the first half of her day laying in bed, unable to sleep, but unable to really move, either. The time was used staring at her ceiling and haphazardly petting Marron, all the while ignoring phone calls and text messages, and thinking about how lucky she was that she hadn't been arrested for aggravated assault: Imagining what would have happened had "Captain Marvel's" drink not tested positive for drugs was nerve wracking. One of the officers assured her that she was on "thin ice" before they took off, which had only fueled her desire to get a little drunk. Although she hadn't gotten terribly fucked up, she was still suffering from a pretty legit physical hangover on top of her emotional one. It wasn't until Jean called to remind her that he was supposed to spend the night at her place that she found even the slightest motivation to get up.
As the siblings sat in the long line for the In-N-Out drive-thru, King couldn't help zoning out a little. She leaned against the hot steering wheel and, without even realizing it, very subtly bobbed her head to the beat of the music playing on the stereo. Meanwhile, Jean continued to scrutinize her, his face screwed up with concern.
"'Tired' doesn't mean 'okay,' though…"
"...I have a hangover," King finally admitted with a yawn.
"Oh. Well why didn't you just say that?"
"Because I'm hungover."
"Ah."
After a few minutes the employee at the drive-thru approached the car. She flashed a big smile as she asked for King's order.
"I'll have two cheeseburgers - no onions - two orders of fries, one neapolitan milkshake, and one chocolate milkshake please."
Jean stared at his sister, his mouth agape. The woman gave King her total and moved on to the next vehicle.
"Did you just order a cheeseburger?!" Jean practically shrieked.
Under normal circumstances King would have laughed at her brother's reaction, but her state of mind was far too damaged to find humour in anything. Instead, she briefly pressed her lips together and shrugged her shoulders as she once again leaned on the steering wheel.
"Yeah."
"Why?!"
"Because I'm hungry."
"But you're a vegetarian!"
"There's lettuce on it."
King released some of the pressure on the brake so she could inch the car forward, totally unfazed by Jean's reaction to her breaking her diet. There was a small part of her that wished she had just flaked out on their plans, but she knew she wouldn't have been able to do that to Jean: he would have been crushed (and Aunt Maddy would have been pissed). King made a face; the two were going to have an interesting time together.
###
"This is amazing!" King exclaimed after swallowing a huge bite of her cheeseburger. She wasn't sure if she was referring to the taste of the food or the fact that she was even eating it in the first place. Jean squinted at her from across the dining room table as if he had never seen her before.
"What?" King used her napkin to wipe her mouth.
"Yep, you're acting weirder than normal today," Jean replied. He paused to take a sip of his milkshake. "What made you decide to break the streak, anyway?"
"Self-destructive impulses," King answered without missing a beat. She grimaced; sometimes she was just too honest for her own good.
"'Self-destructive'? Céc, what's going on? Are you okay?"
King furrowed her brow. She was beginning to hate that question.
"I'm fine. It's just… grown-up stuff."
"Like what? I can handle it."
"It's… a little too personal, kiddo..."
The pair fell silent as they continued eating. Every now and then Jean would look over at his big sister, a million and one questions very obviously on the tip of his tongue. King tried her best to appear at least reasonably okay, but she knew she was failing miserably.
"What are you thinking about?" Jean asked suddenly. It was an unexpected question, one that King didn't really know how to answer. She had to be careful about what she said; one wrong sentence and -
"I almost got arrested last night," she blurted out around a mouthful of french fries. That was definitely not the answer she planned on giving.
"What?! How come?!"
King sighed; she reluctantly shared some of the details of her shift, making sure to leave out the more horrific bits. Jean didn't need to know about how badly she had beaten the man, nor did he need to know how traumatic the experience ended up being for her. Luckily, omitting those things was very easy to do. When she was done she rested her chin on her hands, surprised by how good it felt to get a little bit of that stuff off her chest and out into the open.
"So, if everything turned out okay, why did you get drunk?" Jean asked.
"I was… celebrating," King said slowly. "I had a glass of wine and then Captain Marvel insisted that I do a shot with her. And then one shot turned into three… and then three turned into..."
"Lush."
King smirked and playfully tossed a french fry at Jean; he caught it and threw it back at her. It was so weird: she felt absolutely horrible, but, somehow, Jean being there with her was actually helping to snap her out of her funk. Although it would be awhile before she felt like a person again, hanging out with her brother was a nice change of pace.
"Let's watch a movie," King suggested before taking one final bite of her cheeseburger. She gathered her trash and stood up. She was hopeful that staring at a screen and getting lost in somebody else's plight for two hours while in good company would do wonders for her mood.
"Can I pick?"
"Sure," King said as she threw her garbage away. She started toward her bedroom. "I'm changing. I'll be back."
###
"Céc?"
King felt her leg move slightly. She opened her eyes, somewhat confused: She was curled up in her usual spot on the sofa and it was dark outside, the only light in the room coming from the television, which displayed a black screen with small white words scrolling upward. Jean's lanky frame leaned down toward her, his hand on her ankle.
"What -?"
"You fell asleep," her brother told her. "Like, twenty minutes in."
"...Oh." King sat up and stretched her arms over her head. She didn't even remember laying down. "How was it?"
"It was really good," Jean replied as he turned on the lights. "Too bad you missed it."
"I can stream it another time," King said with a yawn. "What time is it?"
"Eight-something. Oh, you got a ton of text messages and Mai called."
King stood up and grabbed her cell phone: The text message Badge App Icon was in double digits, as was the one hovering over the green and white phone symbol. She already knew who the messages were from: after all, she had been ignoring them for literally the entire day.
"...What'd Mai want?"
"She said to have you call her as soon as possible. And to make sure to give you extra hugs today."
"Great..."
Jean picked up a half-full bowl of popcorn and began walking it to the kitchen but stopped.
"Marron," he said simply.
King turned to see her cat on the counter. She frowned; he was trained not to jump on any tables, countertops, or sinks. But there he was, sitting on the unread mail, batting at a pen.
"I have him," Jean told her. As soon as Marron was grabbed he stretched his back legs out; his dull claws dragged on one of several unopened envelopes, which sent them, and a thick folder, cascading to the floor: Papers with sensitive information on them spilled out everywhere. Horrified, King immediately dashed forward as Jean stooped to start picking everything up.
"Sorry!"
"No, it's fine!" King knelt across from Jean and quickly started gathering everything up. "I have it! You go and get rid of the popcorn."
Jean was already holding several sheets by the time King got the words out. He looked down at the topmost one and furrowed his brow.
"Southtown General Hospital? Céc, what is this?"
"It's nothing, nosy!"
King tried to grab the paper but Jean quickly snatched it out of her reach. She knew exactly what was on it: her full name, vital stats, and exact time and date of her hospital visit were all neatly typed out; underneath it all was a summary for everything that was wrong with her that night. She made another attempt to take the page but Jean held it away from her.
"'Issues addressed this visit," he read loudly. "Mild concussion... cracked ribs… multiple contusions…? Lack-uh-ration from blunt-force — what's a lack-uh-ration?"
"Laceration," King quietly corrected him. Her voice shook. "A bad cut."
"Oh. 'Patient was se —"
"That's enough!"
King lunged forward and forcefully took the sheet from Jean's hand. She felt her cheeks flush as realization dawned on him.
"You weren't sick." Jean's tone was deadpan, completely devoid of emotion.
"Jean, I..."
"Céc."
"No," King choked after a minute. This was bad. This was really, really bad.
"I KNEW IT!"
"What?!"
"You were always so weird on the phone! Every time I tried to talk to you you just sounded... off!"
"Because -"
Jean picked up another sheet of paper and jumped to his feet.
"Patient is to start Ibuprofen, eight-hundred milligrams! Percocet two point five over point three twenty-five! Cephalexin five-hundred milligrams! Céc, what the hell is this?!"
King stood up as well, unsure of what to say. She pressed her lips together in a thin line; she wasn't ready for this.
"You promised you wouldn't keep anymore secrets after you stopped working for the Big Bad!" Jean exclaimed angrily.
"I know!"
"So… what then?!"
"Jean, I don't…" King felt tears stinging her eyes. She straightened her back and took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about it," she said after a moment.
"You don't wanna talk about it?! You've been lying to me - to me! - this whole time! We're gonna talk about it!"
King turned away and ran a hand through her hair, frustrated at herself. She should have thrown that folder in the incinerator when she had the chance. Nevertheless, she needed to find a way to get Jean to leave things alone. At least for the time being.
"Jean, listen. I… I didn't want to lie to you, but—"
"Bullshit!"
"Language!"
King was suddenly dangerously close to getting very angry: How dare her brother curse at her like that?! And how dare he presume to interrogate her?! She needed to shut the conversation down - and fast. Besides, she was the adult, not Jean. And if she didn't want to tell him yet, she didn't have to. It was big sister privilege, goddamnit!
"Look -" King turned to face Jean - "I'm not obligated to tell you anything! I told you I don't want to talk about it and we're going to leave it at that!"
"No! No, we're not leaving it at that!"
"I already told you to drop it!"
"Cracked ribs?! Multiple contusions?! Prescriptions for antibiotics and narcotics?! What happened to you?!"
King took a deep breath. How could she even explain herself? There was nothing she could say that would make this okay. She was going to have to come clean - mostly. She would tell Jean as little as she could until she was ready to reveal the rest.
"I… I lost a fight. I lost a fight, and I didn't want you to see. Can we please not talk about this anymore?!"
"We tell each other everything, Céc! I've seen you lose fights before, so why?! Why didn't you -"
"LAISSE TOMBER, JEAN!"
King immediately threw a hand over her mouth. She couldn't recall the last time she had yelled at Jean like that - if ever. She took a tiny step backward as the tears threatened to come again. She watched Jean's expression change from surprised to hurt to indignant all in the span of a second.
"JE PEUX AUSSI CRIER EN FRANÇAIS!"
Jean tossed the medical record on the table before crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at his sister, his jaw set. There was a long silence as King tried to collect herself. She took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry…!"
"Whatever," Jean grumbled. "You're only saying that because you got caught."
"That's not true! I just didn't…"
King trailed off as she lowered herself onto the floor to finish picking up the mess. She didn't know what to do; Jean was so angry and hurt by her actions. She should have just told him from the beginning - he would have understood. She felt an intense surge of anger at herself for being so goddamn stupid and selfish.
"You didn't what?!" Jean asked after a moment.
"I didn't want you to know…"
"Fine. You didn't want me to know. That's all you had to say! But, instead, you decided to lie about it! And for what?!"
King stayed silent. Jean was one-hundred percent right, after all. She let out a deep sigh and shut her eyes; she suddenly had a massive headache. She gathered a few more papers before taking a quick look at Jean: his eyes were wide - wider than King had ever seen them - and fixed on something not too far from her, his face pale. King knitted her brows, what was he looking a - oh shit.
King's own eyes widened as she realized what the thing that caught her brother's attention was. About a foot away from her was a pamphlet that read, in big, bold letters: Sexual Assault and Rape: An Act of Violence. King quickly snatched the handout and threw it into the back of the folder. She could practically hear her heart beating in her ears as she swallowed hard.
"Céc…?"
Jean's voice was so quiet that King barely heard him. She opened her mouth to respond but no sound came out. All at once she felt like she was drowning in shame, fear, and anger. She cleared her throat and kept her gaze firmly locked on the floor in front of her.
"Yeah, so... the most... fucked up thing hap -"
Without a word Jean bounded forward; he threw his arms around King and held on to her tightly. She tried to keep herself from crying, but, before she knew it, tears were quietly streaming down her face. She hugged her brother back, more unsure of what to say to him than ever before: The Levasseur siblings silently clung to each other on the dining room floor, both unsure of what to say.
And it was all because of the cat.
Maybe I should have named this chapter "whump."
* In-N-Out Burger is the most awesome burger joint in California. There's a secret menu that has neapolitan shakes. Also. the lines are almost always hella long.
* The medications Jean reads off are, well, the medications someone would be given in King's situation. Percocet and Ibupfren for pain, antibiotics to preemptively treat infection. I know, ew.
* Laisse tomber = just drop it. Je peux aussi crier en francais = I can yell/shout in French, too