A/N: And here's an update. :) This is part one out of three. So I guess you can say this whole story is becoming some sort of multi chapter? Perhaps. And yes, "the reveal" is about to take place soon.
Part I out of III.
If you would come back home,
we could start all over
If you would come back home,
I swear it would be better
There's room left in the house,
there's food still in the pantry
I could fix you lunch or take you out for coffee
Call the surgeon, mend the pieces
Now Playing: William Fitzsimmons / If You Would Come Back Home
"Are you sure about this?"
A tired and hollow sigh can be heard by the windowsill. "I'm sure. You've asked me like, ten times already."
"What if it doesn't work out?" Sad brown eyes followed the figure that started to pace back forth across the room. He was used to seeing her antsy and moving all the time, but not like this. She has been uncharacteristically somber for months, and he didn't know how to remedy the inner turmoil that continued to plague her.
She has been absent-minded and distracted lately to the point where he no longer knew whether he could reach out to her or not. He felt like he was losing her little by little each day. Yes, she laughed and smiled, but they seemed out of politeness for they never reached her eyes anymore. Downcast. She has been downcast and broken, but she continued to face each day with her false bravado and fragile optimism.
But he knew better.
And he knew there was only thing—one person—who can fix this and it wasn't him.
"Then I'll try again," she replied quietly, breaking through his melancholy stupor.
It was his turn to sigh this time. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, carefully watching her, his eyebrows narrowing with apprehension.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
She shook her head a lit bit too vigorously. "No. I have to do this on my own."
He straightened his back and took seven careful steps toward her. Left. Right. Left. Right. Once they were facing each other, she smiled at him before snaking her arms around his neck.
"I love you so much, you know that right?" She asked, sincere green eyes searching his face. His heart skipped a beat in reply. If there was one thing he knew to be true and unwavering, it was Anna Arendelle's love for him. He never questioned that. He never will.
Kristoff returned her smile as he coiled his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "I know, and I love you," he murmured under his breath, legs weakening at the sight of her inches away from his face. She craned her neck and brushed her lips against his, softly yet firmly. Gently, but not so much. Kristoff raised his hands to cradle her jaw, angling her face so he can deepen the kiss. They stood like that for a while, their lips colliding with each other rhythmically without missing a beat.
Anna slid her hands up Kristoff's face, gently pulling away from the kiss. He followed her cue without objection. He squared his shoulders but his hands were still resting on Anna's hips, careful not to let them wander in indecent places.
Anna stared at him apologetically. "I have to pack my stuff. Wanna come help me?"
"Of course," he replied before pecking her lips. "But—it's just that—" A flash of worry clouded his eyes, and Anna caught it right before it disappeared. She rested her hand on his face, quietly urging him to continue on.
Kristoff untangled himself from her and crossed his arms again, returning to his post by the main door entrance. "What if Elsa doesn't wanna see you? What if you guys just end up fighting?"
Anna raised a defiant brow and crossed her arms, mimicking her boyfriend. "Then we'll fight. It's about time that we fought. She's always avoiding me—the problem—whatever it is. And you know what? I'm gonna find her and she'll have no choice but to talk to me."
Kristof couldn't help but smirk. He sauntered back to where he was standing until he was towering over her. "Really? You're really gonna do that?" he challenged.
Anna's face fell as she remembered how foolish and overly hopeful she sounded. "Well, we do need to talk. It's been a while—it's been years and I…I really miss her, Kristoff," she trailed off, green eyes slowly turning dark with sadness.
He wanted to kick himself for being tactless. "Hey, I'm just kidding," he said guiltily. "I have faith in you. You never know—maybe the one thing she wants the most is to see you, too."
Anna chuckled dryly. "Maybe. The last time I went there without Elsa knowing, her friend Tadashi helped me. I'll call him later and I'll let him know that I'll be coming back." Kristoff stretched out his arms and embraced her protectively. He nuzzled her neck and kissed her cheek. "As long as you're okay, then I'll be okay," he said while looking at her with a calm expression.
His worries had started to fade away after realizing his girlfriend was the bravest person he knew. He had underestimated her, momentarily forgetting that she has been dealing with the same predicament since she was five years old. She didn't need him around to discourage her from the one thing she wanted the most—reconciliation with her sister.
All he ever wanted was for her to be at peace and happy. And if that meant letting her leave by herself to fight her battle alone as she had requested, he was willing to let her do that. Though fretful and unsure of how the outcome would play out, he knew Anna could handle whatever storm may come her way.
"What's your itinerary again?" Kristoff suddenly asked, mentally noting to take off from work and find someone who would look after his dog, Sven, so he can send her off.
Anna hummed as she searched her mind for her flight's details. "Charles Muntz International Airport, Business Class, direct flight—" she recited, still missing the crucial part of the information she and Kristoff needed.
The blond man interrupted her. "Muntz? Anna, you own three private planes. Can't you just use one of them instead of dealing with other people?"
"I want to be with actual, real-life people, Kristoff," she said while tucking her hair behind her ear, "And they're not mine. They were Papa and Mama's—there's only two now because—well…the other one crashed," she said the last word in an almost whisper, remembering her parents' sudden and unfortunate demise.
"I-I'm sorry," Kristoff stammered, suddenly desperate to change the topic, "Well, yes, I can drop you off at Muntz. But do you know when exactly?"
Anna shot her boyfriend a grateful smile for not arguing with her about her flight arrangements. Kristoff was stubborn, but he was not insensitive. He knew Anna did not like remembering what happened to her parents, especially at this time of year, and he made it his personal mission to somehow lessen the pain she was going through.
"Oh! I remember now!" Anna piped up.
Kristoff quirked a brow. "What?"
The redhead took in a sharp intake of breath. Her excitement was tinged with a slight touch of trepidation.
"Christmas Eve. My flight to San Fransokyo is on Christmas Eve."
"Excuse me, but—aaahhh—ahhhh—choooo!"
A blast of flurries sprinkled her desk as she struggled to type her notes up on her laptop. It was that dreadful time of the year again, and she had refused to get a flu shot in fears of panicking and freezing the campus clinic. She hated needles as much as she hated winter.
Puffy-eyed, red-nosed, feverish, and absolutely miserable, Elsa slouched on her desk and forced herself to focus on her lab partner's voice. They had a project due before Winter Break, and Elsa refused to meet up with said lab partner because of very obvious reasons.
Instead, she locked herself in her room, opting to somehow remedy her flu. She stacked her pantry with Benadryl, Tylenol, boxes of chicken noodle soup and everything else she found necessary to quicken her recovery. It has been three days since she last went to class, but thankfully, Callaghan was very understanding of her situation and had his lectures video recorded and sent to her.
"Uhm—Elsa, are you okay?" Tadashi asked on the other side of the phone, masking the concern in his voice. He tried to sound casual—apathetic—but he couldn't help but wonder how Elsa was doing considering he had not seen her in days.
She sounds bad. Really bad.
Elsa waved a dismissive hand, forgetting Tadashi would not be able to see her. She had him on speakerphone. It would've been easier if they conversed using video chat, but the last thing Elsa wanted to do was cough up a storm—a snowstorm—in front of Tadashi.
For as long as she could remember, the only people that were allowed to visit her when she was sick were her parents. They knew what to do. They knew how to calm her down. Even though she had already forgotten her mother's touch and how it felt to be touched, the sight of her parents being in the same room with her, watching over her as she rested, was enough to help her rejuvenate.
Her parents kept her company. And that somehow—for just a little bit—helped her not miss Anna so much.
Even though her refusal to be held and touched pained her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Arendelle respected their daughter and refrained from forcing her to do things that may trigger her anxiety and fears.
Agdar and Idun wanted to hold their daughter in their arms—but Elsa kept them at arm's length, desperately trying hard to protect them from herself.
One of the things Elsa regretted the most was the fact that she never had the chance to hug them or say "I love you" before they died. Another memory to add to her abundant list of things to hate about her existence.
"I'm fine, thank you. I've taken my meds earlier so I should be fine and—and—ahhhh—chooooo!
Tadashi cringed and slightly drew his phone away from his ear. "Are you sure? I can just ask Callaghan for an extension, I'm sure he'll understand. You can't— "
Elsa shook her head stubbornly, forgetting once again that the other person could not see her. She wiped her nose on a piece of tissue. "No, we have to finish this. We only have five more questions to go. Wanna go over that Inverse Kinematics of Planar Mechanisms summary?"
She's so stubborn. Tadashi suppressed a sigh and tried to deviate his attention back to his notebook. Although he was happy to have Elsa on the phone with him, it wasn't exactly a conversation one would call romantic.
Number one, the object of his affection had already rejected him, and number two, they were strictly talking about their report. That was it—plus the coughing and sneezing that was coming from Elsa's side of the line. He shook his head and pressed a finger on his notebook, tracing his messy scribbles and the numbers jotted all over the place.
"Right. Okay, so, all we have to do is find the joint displacements that lead the end-effecter to a specified position and orientation, but the thing is—"
"Yeah that'll be easy. We can just maneuver the—ahhhhhh—CHOOOOO!" Elsa had to place her phone back on the desk for she had started to have a coughing fit. She gripped the armrest of her chair, struggling to breathe as she felt her insides thrash back and forth against her ribs. Her abdominals clenched in pain, her chest heaving and pounding from the force of her coughing.
As if seeing what was taking place, Tadashi immediately stood up from his seat and pushed his phone closer to his ear. His brow notched in a frown and he cupped his mouth with a hand, listening intently. Elsa continued to cough and wheeze aggressively like she was choking on something, and Tadashi's worry multiplied. Elsa left her phone on the table and walked away, as Tadashi suspected, because he can only hear her from a distance.
It took a few minutes before Elsa regained her composure. "Tadashi? Are you still there?" She asked in a wobbly voice. "I'm sorry about that, if you want, I can just do the whole report by myself and—"
"Do the whole report by yourself?" Tadashi asked incredulously. "Elsa, are you hearing yourself right now? You sound horrible. If anything, I should be the one doing this part of the report since it is, after all, my part."
Elsa swept her bangs to the side, bit her lower lip, and frowned. "I know, but it'll be more efficient if we add more points to it," she argued, pushing the nagging thought lurking behind her head that screamed the possibility that she may be prolonging this project because she wanted to spend time with him. "I just want to make sure everything is perfect for the presentation," she said quietly, confused by the sudden warmness that spread throughout her face.
"God, you're such a perfectionist," Tadashi muttered. "If you don't want to rest, then I'm coming over. Whatever it is that you're doing to make yourself feel better is obviously not working, and—you're right—we need to finish this project," he exclaimed sternly, not faltering or tripping over his words per usual whenever he talked to her. Quite honestly, he didn't care much for this report, but he needed it as an incentive to convince Elsa to let him see her.
His sudden boldness surprised him, but there was no taking what he said back now. He knew she would reject him and make up a thousand excuses not to see him, but he missed her—and he really wanted to get this assignment over with so he can help his Aunt Cass' plan her Christmas dinner.
Elsa's eyes widened and she felt herself biting the tip of her tongue. "No," she said tonelessly and almost too mechanically, "I-I mean, you can't come over. I'm contagious and you're just gonna get sick." For once, her words did not contradict her thoughts. Everything that she said was true; she was deathly ill, and getting Tadashi sick just in time for their presentation wasn't exactly suitable and convenient.
Here we go. Tadashi rolled his eyes, thankful the blonde could not see him. "Elsa, I can wear a mask or something. I had my flu shot a month ago, I should be good."
"I still don't think it's a good idea."
Tadashi rubbed the back of his neck. He suspected Elsa was thinking of the last time he came over to her apartment—it was the night he confessed his feelings for her and was rejected big time. It has been five weeks since that night, and he found ways to nurse his wounds by pretending he wasn't devastated by her unreciprocated affections.
He still chose to be her friend. He never acted awkward around her—well he tried. Trying. And he never really did give up on her, either. He tucked his scarred heart inside his pocket and continued to act normal around her. Whatever that meant.
Elsa didn't want him to be anything else but her friend. And he can give her that.
"Elsa, I know you haven't been eating well. Can I just bring you some soup? Please?" Tadashi implored her softly and gripped his phone a little bit tighter.
"And if you're really worried about getting me sick, you can just close the door and I'll sit outside. We can talk about our report through that little slit from under it or something," he suggested, hoping what he said made sense.
And it did. What he said made perfect sense. And it stung.
The face of her sister, Anna, flashed across her mind and she found herself clutching at her chest. Her sister was always on the opposite side of her door; begging her, crying out to her, waiting for her—and she could do nothing but muffle her own weeping with her pillow, desperately praying for her sister to leave—no, stay—no leave. Stay. Leave. Stay. Leave. Stay.
She wanted to set herself on fire at the thought of Tadashi mimicking Anna's attempts to reach out to her through that damn door and its damn slit.
Elsa took in a controlled, even breath. "Fine, you can come over," she mumbled as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "You don't have to bring a mask, I have an extra one here that I took from the lab."
Tadashi's eyebrows shot up to this hairline. "That's great," he squeaked, then cringed for sounding a little bit too excited. He coughed, pretending to clear his throat, and tried again. "That's great. I'll be there in an hour. I'll see you then—bye." He didn't want to hang up, but he didn't want to waste time either. He was finally seeing her, and that was all that mattered.
"Bye," she whispered, grinning by the barest bit upon catching that slight hitch in Tadashi's voice.
Elsa looked around her room and found relief when she saw the surroundings in tact and free of frost. Her medication had started to kick in, and she prayed that this would help suppress her sneezes and coughing galore. She sighed and rubbed the sides of her head with her eyes closed. The steady drumming of her heart echoed through her ears and she felt a surge of warmth rising from the pit of her stomach to her chest.
She wasn't sure if it was Tadashi's voice that sparked that comforting feeling, or her own growing excitement radiating from the corners of heart for what was about to take place.
I miss you.
She whimpered, forcing her mind to banish that thought away.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Elsa stood in front of mirror trying to calm her tense nerves after realizing what she had agreed to. Anticipation turned into confusion and anxiety—as if she didn't have enough of those as is.
It's going to be fine. We're just working on this project like we did in the past.
She washed her face once more time and tried to clean the nagging feeling of sickness and exhaustion from her skin, hoping Tadashi wouldn't be so worried when he sees her… She started to wonder if the redness on her face and the weakness on her limbs were from her intense fever that only got worse by the minute, or from blushing profusely while conversing with Tadashi just a few moments ago.
No. I can't have these thoughts throw me off again. Not anymore.
Against her body's protest, she dragged herself to the kitchen to tidy up although her countertop and everything that surrounded her room was nothing short of spotless. She sighed when she saw there was nothing to be done so she looked to her study section. The bookshelf next to her desk stood tall, the books on it meticulously arranged in alphabetical and genre order. The bed adjacent to it was made perfectly, as if no one had ever slept on it before. Convinced that everything was presentable, she walked to her dresser and pulled out the first sweater she could find.
The one that caught her attention was an oversized, teal colored sweater that once belonged to Anna.
She never condoned stealing or borrowing another person's item without asking—but before leaving Norway, she managed to sneak into Anna's room, stroke her sleeping sister's forehead for a brief second, and take her sweater with her to keep herself safe and warm for the many nights of crying that she knew she would have to endure later on.
She was greedy. Anna had given her a hoodie a few years ago as a birthday present; but something she knew Anna had worn before gave her a sense of comfort—she made herself believe that Anna was hugging her and holding her whenever she would wear her sweater.
Elsa pulled the sacred article of clothing down over her head, simultaneously wondering what her sister was up to and if she finally realized that her sweater was missing. Before her mind can wander off to thoughts of her sister's childhood that she ruined, a soft knock interrupted her, alerting her of Tadashi's arrival.
The blonde warily ran her hands down her face, ignoring the heat permeating from her skin. She was burning up once again and a sharp flash of pain speared through her head, causing her to shut her eyes in agony. Her joints had started to ache once more and the tightness in her chest became heavier. She gathered whatever fleeting strength she had left and took in a breath and forced herself to open her eyes, determined to finish their project. Though it was only a few steps, Elsa struggled to reach the door as her legs screamed in disagreement. Finally reaching the doorknob, she turned it, opened the door, and was greeted by a familiar smiling face.
Breathe. You can do this.
"Hi, Elsa," Tadashi said cheerfully, a container of freshly cooked soup in hand. The boy donned a brown cardigan over a white shirt, a black messenger bag on his shoulder, and his usual San Fransokyo baseball hat. The corners of Elsa's lips rose into a close-mouthed smile while she opened her door wider, gesturing for him to come inside. It irked her, these droplets of happiness slowly raining down on her upon seeing him for the first time in days. But he was there. She was there. And they agreed to meet up for their project and that was that.
"Hey," Elsa acknowledged him, her voice thick with exhaustion and hoarse from coughing. Tadashi noticed that her usually luminous blue eyes were glazed over. If they were guarded or reflecting the sickness she was currently feeling physically, it was hard for Tadashi to tell. Although her bangs were framing the sides of her face, Tadashi still noticed the blotch of red staining her cheeks. Once they were inside the room, Elsa gently pushed the door behind her and rested her back against it.
Tadashi forced himself to peel his eyes away from Elsa by casually turning his head to look around the room. "Nice place you got here. It's—clean," he winced, wanting to kick himself for his plain and asinine statement.
The room was perfect, organized, and carefully designed with a few paintings hanging on the wall—suggesting the owner has an eye for art. He could've said more, but he was distracted by the way Elsa looked standing by her door, arms wrapped around her sides like she was struggling to stand up in place.
"Thank you," she said, forcing a chuckle. "I try to keep it—clean," she trailed off, immediately knowing the heat that crept up to her face was not produced by her fever.
Tadashi opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. Awkwardness was starting to slowly drape itself over them, and it was only made worse when Tadashi shifted and almost spilled the soup he was holding.
"Is that the soup that you said you were going to bring?" Elsa inquired, trying to lessen the growing tension. She pointed at the container, prompting Tadashi to look at it, too, as if he didn't know what it was that he was holding.
"Oh, yeah. Aunt Cass made it. It's miso soup." Tadashi swallowed hard when Elsa started to approach him, her eyes curiously inspecting the object in his hand. He carefully lifted the container for her to reach when suddenly, Elsa stopped dead in her tracks, hand trembling and shooting up to her head.
"Elsa, are you okay?" Tadashi's forehead wrinkled with worry as he watched Elsa press both of her hands against the sides of her head with force. He immediately bent down to place the soup and his bag aside, his heart beating faster by the second.
Elsa tried to wave him off. "I'm fine, I just—it's just—a headache," she replied weakly, the look in her eyes growing distant. Tadashi stared at her askance, breaching her personal space by moving a few inches closer to her. Elsa's legs were weakening, and she was starting to lose control of her own body because her fever had spiked tremendously with a vengeance.
"I don't think you're okay. I think you should sit down," he instructed gently, hands hovering in front of her. "Elsa, you really need to rest. I'm going to call Callaghan for an extension. Everything will work out, okay?"
Her eyes were half-lidded and she wobbled clumsily like a building about to crumble. "I'm really fine. Just give me a moment to collect myself and we can—"
A jolt of pain burrowed through her head, causing her legs to finally fail her. The last thing she heard was Tadashi's panicked voice calling out her name over and over again. She caught glimpses of his face and felt him catch her in his arms as she collapsed, wanting so badly to touch his forehead and brush away the lines of concern staining his features.
But before another breath can escape her, everything went black.