Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me.
Summary: One shot. She left because it was for the best. Just when she thought her life would continue uninterrupted, even if it were as miserable and pathetic than ever, she is surprised to find the redhead back in her life. Troubles, it seems, are never ending. Modern AU. Warnings: Incest.
A/N: I know I have two stories currently pending, but I'll get right back to them. Currently, this idea clung on to me and refused to let go. So I decided to put it up as a one-shot. Or a two shot if it gets enough reviews and interest.
Title from Alanis Morissette's Not As We.
1.
"There is love in holding and there is love in letting go." - Elizabeth Berg.
The bang on the door rattled the locks loudly, and Elsa, who was browsing through the few reference books she had gotten tonight at the library sighed and took off her glasses.
She was wading through the heaps of used papers and notebooks when she heard the second series of impatient pounding.
She could feel the residual rattle echo in her cranium and start a throb somewhere to the side of her head.
"I'm coming!" She shouted when she reached the door and the pounding - sounding like fists banging in a sort of rhythm - continued despite her announcement.
"Jesus. You'd think you've never been let in through a door before..."
The rest of the muttered grumble hung off in the sudden silence.
Somewhere deep within, Elsa heard something crack.
Teal eyes stared at her, hardened and aloof, yet simmering beneath the mask of a cold facade was the hurt that called out to Elsa in waves - she could feel herself washed back and forth along the gritty layers of the past.
The name left her lips softer than a whisper, but at the stiffening of the petite body clad in a jacket and the tightening of lips that she knew - oh so well, she swallowed and exhaled a shaky breath.
"I'm assuming you are Elsa Arendelle?"
The squeaky voice didn't register until she dragged her eyes away from the accusatory ones in front of her and she barely gave the short, old man a glance.
"Yes." Her voice was raspy and she didn't bother clearing her throat.
Not when she knew that was how it was whenever she was around the younger, so long forgotten sibling - so much so that the entire visage of the redhead before her felt like a memory, a product of her overworked mind.
Yet her she was, clutching her mittens in a vice grip, her head covered to ward off the city's frigid winter, the scarf barely reaching up to her chin - the design of white snowflakes against a light blue background making Elsa's heart thump as hard as it did when she followed the cheekbones upwards, past rosy red pads to the still-distant eyes.
Oh god, she was here. She was here beckoning Elsa, and Elsa for once was hit by the familiar longing so viciously, that she was sure that all these years apart and all the effort she had put into forgetting everything, the memories, the guilt, the want, was all in vain - she was keeping herself back from pulling the redhead into her arms by shear strength of character, and perhaps sanity.
She shakily pulled the door open, her mindlessness of the disorganized room behind her indicated how far she had been rendered speechless - both literally, as she had to make a vague gesture inviting the two people in, and metaphorical as her mind stuttered on a word.
Anna. Anna. Anna. Anna.
"Come in." Her mouth moved a moment too late as the redhead swept inside, bringing cold air along with her and Elsa couldn't care less at the flurry that followed her sister and the dark wet footprints that impinged themselves on her new carpet. She, again, gave barely a glance to the man struggling with a leather case that was half his size, his spectacles foggy at the sudden change of temperature.
At his thank you, she gave a nod.
The door shut behind her, she took time turning, and pulling all the locks shut and wished for once she knew what to say and what to do. Those years she spent trying to write letter to her sister explaining why she had done such a thing were all there somewhere in a drawer; she was too afraid to post them. Another reason she gave herself for not attempting to explain things to Anna was because it was easier now the way it was - with her miserable and yet occupied, being groomed for a job that meant no social and family life, and she also didn't want to open up the scab and cause more trouble than what was worth. So she left it at that.
Of course the guilt killed her. But it was better this way, she was certain in away that implied she tried herself to think that way - so that it became a bypass from question to conclusion, without the added trouble of emotion in between.
"Untrustworthy neighborhood, huh?"
The old man's chuckle felt forced and as she turned and forced one of her own pathetic grunts back at him, she knew he knew he was in a very precarious situation, but was trying his best to follow the lead of the two women whose presence he was in, and not address the elephant in the room.
Elsa pulled a chair opposite the sofa, glad that there was a coffee table separating the multitude of emotions running through the younger girl's eyes from her.
The eyes locked in her when she settled hesitantly, her hand patted the cell phone tucked in her pocket like the way a police officer feels for his gun when in troubles waters. Kristoff would be here in a heartbeat if she messaged him.
"How can I help you?"
She knew it was a bitter choice of words when the jaw of her sister tightened and her eyes flashed. Elsa, however knew now wasn't the time nor the place to open up the portal to all their past indiscretions, and she turned her sure eyes onto the man sitting beside her sister.
"Oh well." The man glanced nervously between her and Anna as though telling her she was missing something vital to say, but she raised her eyebrow and he sighed. "I'm Dr. Weselton -" Elsa reached across to shake hands with the short man, Anna's eyes remained trained on hers throughout, emotionless. "- and I'm your sister's oncologist."
Elsa's eyes widened and her throat felt dry. If she thought being surprised by Anna visiting, rather - finding her after five years was a surprise, then nothing explained how she felt now. It was a bitter realization that escaped her medical mind until she made the sublime correlation between 'oncologist' and 'Anna', and when she did realize, it felt like a blow to the chest and she swayed - before she gritted her teeth and locked eyes with the teal ones before her - and they hadn't changed a bit.
She felt lost.
"Wha- what do you mean?"she prayed to the lord Almighty that the hoarseness she currently had was a sign of cancer and she would suddenly fall dead before the answer reached her ears.
Of course that didn't happen. Because she didn't have cancer, her sister did.
"I'm sorry to bring you such bad news." The man paused when Anna scoffed - Elsa delighted at this, only a smidge though, because Anna reacting meant Anna still felt something -and he directed a cutting gaze at his patient, like father to daughter "But it had to be done despite the numerous refusal on your sister's part to contact you."
Elsa didn't meet the glare this time.
"Please tell me what's wrong."
Again, Anna made another grunt that seemed like she wanted to say something, but when both Elsa and the doctor turned questioningly at her she stood up abruptly and made her way to the window.
"She has cancer, Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Now this is a kind of -"
"I know what that is."She didn't care she sounded curt. She wanted to know something else besides the disease. "I'm a medical student. What kind of Hodgkin's?"
Dr. Weselton smiled softly. "Its nodular sclerosis type. Um sure you'll know that its the smaller of evils."
She nodded, breathless. While her mind charted out possibilities for good prognosis and chances of five-year survival, she glanced at the stiff back at the window, the urge to go and just melt into those arms overwhelming, knowing there was distinct possibility that she wouldn't be able to do so forever.
"Okay. Okay." She breathed out, putting g her face in her hands and mumbling swear words soft enough to be muffled and not heard by the man directly across her. "Are you sure?"
The man nodded his head sympathetically, his hands pulling out previous reports and laying them out on the table for Elsa to see. "We have done all the diagnostic tests. First we were concerned it was Oat cell carcinoma, late stage mind you, because she came in with breathlessness that was sudden and progressive. But then we realized she had enlarged lymph node masses impinging on the wind pipe, and her lung was clean."
She nodded, grateful for small favors.
"So she is stage 2 right? No constitutional symptoms?"
The doctor shook his head - she debated whether the hair on the man's head was real or it was a wig - and gave a short laugh of relief.
"Thankfully she had or has no constitutional symptoms; she's managed to gain a few pounds after guilt tripping my team into giving her chocolate truffles for every visit and investigation."
Elsa couldn't stop a smile from pushing away the dark clouds in her head. Her eyes glanced towards the figure at the door, and she was momentarily taken by the way the red head caressed a single crocus that was put in a vase by her window - Elsa yearned to run her fingers down the side of the girls face the same way - and she startled and let her yes turn back to the files in front of her.
"Her CT looks bad though."She commented softly.
"It just looks bad, it isn't causing anything so far." The man sat back and eyed her carefully. "We need something from you, Miss Elsa, otherwise we wouldn't be here."
"I hope you are speaking for yourself, doc, because I feel nothing of the sort."
The honey soft voice, more feminine than the memories she had, burnt its way along every part of her body. Her arms covered in gooseflesh curled instinctively around her chest - that again felt tight with emotion - and she could barely keep a sob from escaping her mouth.
But she did - she did have excellent self-control so far - and she turned her face away, the perverse thoughts that used to run through her body like a train wreck, making itself known and blooming somewhere in the pits of her mind.
When she thought it was disgusting to think of your sister that way, particularly when she was probably dying of cancer, she blinked and willed herself to let go.
"What do you want, doctor?" She sounded a little too high, "I'd do anything for her, just tell me how you need me."
What she said was true, and she didn't need her senses to know that Anna would probably be rolling her eyes and scoffing at the wind. She didn't have that much savings, but she had worked day and night to accumulate enough to get her through this year of medical school at least. With all that, she was sure she would be able to pay for at least part of Anna's chemo and radiotherapy, and she was not unwilling to start more jobs in the meantime. There was nothing she wouldn't do if it meant getting Anna treatment.
"We are starting her on the standard treatment for nodular sclerosis – ABVD regimen with intermittent rounds of local radiotherapy, but we may be able to provide her with a better outcome as well as shortened treatment if we can get a donor for bone marrow transplant."
Elsa nodded, relieved. She hoped that she was a sure match for her sister.
"Okay, so you want to test me? That's fine, I'm fine with all of this actually. Where do I have to sign?"
The doctor chuckled. "You two need to discuss it first. She's pretty adamant about not taking the bone marrow transplant, least of all from you."
Elsa was sure her face was painted equal parts hurt and equal parts guilty. She didn't know what to say to the man, but the knowing look he gave her was enough to make her groan at the entire situation.
"Why?"
It would have made sense to direct the question to the woman who was a stranger to her now, who was resolutely ignoring Elsa's presence while in Elsa's apartment, but she instead chose to burden Dr. Weselton with the question of the century.
He looked appropriately appalled.
"I think that's a question you have to ask your sister, Miss. Elsa. The extent of her denial to even think about you made us forcibly bring her here, and if I wasn't so well known to Miss Anna then I would be facing an abduction charge, not to mention the numerous physical injuries that would mar my weathered body."
She was between a hard place and a rock now.
"She has her reasons, doctor."
Anna would've punched her, she knew, if she hadn't been resolutely pretending Elsa wasn't here, but it was a lot easier than the actual truth.
"Doesn't mean you can't overrule her. You could very well take my consent and give her the transplant as well as the treatment, seeing as she is still a minor, and I'm her only remaining relative." she pressed on, her eyes yearning to the rationality of the doctor, but she knew that sooner or later there was going to be a storm.
He hummed, as though entertaining her idea about starting the treatment without Anna's consent, but then he looked up at her and she felt ashamed that she had even suggested it in the first place.
"I know you haven't quite absorbed what I have told you Miss Elsa. It will take time, I'm sure, but first you two-"at this he raised his voice and turned to Anna as well, "- you two need to reconcile."
Easier said than done, Elsa thought savagely as her gut twisted uncomfortably. She felt it was better to just let the past go, rather than address it and clear doubts and actions of her own doing. Anna apparently had similar thoughts because she turned on her heels and started pulling off the numerous locks, barely giving the both of them a glance before she stormed out the door.
As the door wobbled slightly and remained ajar, Elsa turned back to Dr. Weselton worriedly.
"Will she-" for the life of her, she couldn't even bring herself to worry properly about her sister.
But the man seemed to get what she meant. "She's going to the car. The young man who did the courtesy of bringing us here is waiting for us both."
"Young man?" She felt disgusted at the way her heart felt as though crushed and her voice came out stilted.
Thankfully the doctor was too busy putting the papers back into the bag to actually pay attention to the way her voice waxed and waned at the thought of a 'young man' waiting for Anna.
"Her boyfriend, Hans." He told her giving her a small smile. "He has been a real rock for her all these years, and I must confess I was doubtful he would stay after her being diagnosed but he not only did the contrary but also helped pay off the hospital expenses."
Elsa smiled brokenly, grateful, even though she was bitter. She didn't let the thought of Anna having a boyfriend register and she surely didn't let the hurt show.
"Okay. That's great." She followed the doctor till the door, that was again held in a vice grip as though it was the metaphorical rock she leaned on during troubles. "When can we meet again?"
The doctor smiled and pulled out a card out of nowhere. It seems he was great at magic tricks looking as both his hands were struggling to hold up the leather bag. "I am staying at Corona's. Anna on the other hand is currently bunking along with Hans in his apartment, to the west of the city."
As she took the card out of his hand, she squashed the urge to inquire about Hans and more importantly Hans' character, seeing as Anna was staying with him - but she held her tongue, knowing she had no right to do so anymore, and she knew that Anna felt the same way. After all she had done to her little sister, she'd be glad a stranger was helping her - but that didn't stop the worry that plagued her mind at the thought of Anna being at the mercy of strangers and alone.
"He is a trustworthy man, Elsa." She blinked at the informal address and was instantly put at ease by the kind look in the man's eyes. When she nodded, he slipped another piece of paper into her cold fingers. "Hans told me to give you this."
18th Southern
Third block. 208.
"He said Anna can be a little too hot headed at times, and I agree, but he also said she talks when cornered. She would be willing to talk if you make the effort to do so, Elsa."
Elsa nodded, exhaling a shaky breath. She felt guilty about feeling bitter about Anna's boyfriend, but she knew better than to put off her suspicions.
"Until later, Miss Elsa."
The man put on his hat and left, and Elsa was left standing at an open door, the chill from outside barely registering against her skin, her eyes closed shut as she felt jet lagged.
After shutting the door, she stood at the window and watched the doctor get into a sleek black car, and she could've sworn she saw Anna through the dark tinted window, but she was left staring at the asphalt moments later, her head feeling as bare and as rugged as ever, memories sizzling beneath all the calm exterior, waiting to rip out shreds off her heart once again. But still, despite the emptiness and the simultaneous fullness of her mind, there was something pounding around, meddling with the flow of all thoughts, creating disasters with its clumsiness - similar to the redhead who had occupied this very spot, her fingers touching the yellow flower.
Anna. Anna. Anna.
The word was a mix of unadulterated happiness and sadness, a mix of both fear and bravery, a concoction of love and hate so profound she didn't know what she felt anymore.
She didn't want to think of the cancer. She didn't want to think of the way Anna hadn't even said a word to her. She didn't want to think of the way Anna's eyes remained hard and unknowing. She didn't want to think of the hurt she knew Anna was feeling. She didn't want to think of how she had left her sister years ago. She didn't want to think of how torn she had felt, trying to decide whom to protect her sister from, herself or the world. She didn't want to think of how Anna might have felt the next day, the day after, the day after the next, the next few months, the next few years, the whole five years - all because Elsa had chosen to leave the younger with no sibling, no family. She didn't want to think of how Anna hated her now, how she must be so happy because of other people in her life, how she must have completely forgotten about having a sister until now. And she certainly didn't want to think about Anna dying or being on the verge of death.
She instead thought about the missing crocus, the very same she knew Anna had taken.
And she felt a small shred of hope shimmer in the depths of her dark heart.
A/N: So, what do you guys think? Want this to continue? Or it could be wrapped up as a one short if you aren't into this.