A/N: So I found out that Emily Rose can sing, so this happened. Originally planned to be a "Five Times" story, but it morphed into whatever this is. I'm also borrowing Rhiannon's (rhiannon42 on tumblr) head-canon that Elena's parents died in a car-crash (there's another little shout out to her head-canon in the section, too. If you've read her stuff, try and spot it). And I'm using my own head-canon that Nate and Elena got married while on (extended) layover in London while they were on their way back from an unspecified amount of time in Tibet. I wrote some of that fanfic actually. Maybe I'll publish it here someday.
Also I KNOW 'perplexion' is not a word, but I couldn't help it! It worked so nicely and it sounds so real! DON'TTELLMEWHATTODO!
Songs are (in order) "Let it Be", "Amazing Grace", "Dream a Little Dream of Me" by The Mamas and the Papas, and "What I Wouldn't Do" by Serena Rider; which is also the song I nabbed the story title from.
Also also, I don't play piano, so if I messed up the notes in DaLDoM, forgive me.
Disclaimer: The only thing I own in this story is the word 'perplexion'.
When Elena turned six her mother bought her an electronic keyboard to learn piano on. Every Tuesday and Thursday they would drive fourteen blocks to Mrs. Morrissey's house (she never married, but insisted that the altered title sounded more professional) and had lessons. Elena hated it. Her mother always told her how important it was, Elena would thank her one day, and that it looked great on a resume and/or a college application.
Elena would always rebuke that it wasn't as if she'd ever become a professional pianist. Her mother laughed it off and would reply, "But if you never try, you never can."
Her father would eventually chime in with some variation of: "Lanie you can do anything you want, but is limiting your opportunities one of those things?"
It would typically end with Elena reluctantly agreeing and practicing, but only when instructed. Deep down she knew her parents were right, and she wasn't one to turn down a challenge, but she never really enjoyed playing unless she was singing along to the tune.
At the end of the day when she was tired and grumpy and resentful about practice, Elena would pick one of her favourite songs from a Disney movie or broadway musical, maybe even something she heard on the radio that sort of stuck. She'd sing loudly while playing, guessing all of the notes waiting for her parents to scold her for 'not sticking to the lesson book' (but only Mrs. Morrissey ever did that).
She actually got pretty good, but she'd never admit how much fun she had, too.
Some children counted when they played, some used a metronome, but Elena learned to keep time by singing. Even when there weren't words, she would hum the melody. Her parents loved it. They told her she had such a lovely voice, but encouraged her to try without singing. She tried, she truly did, but the notes came so much easier when she could sing along.
When Elena was eight she had her first major recital. The rules of the competition were that it was a piano recital alone and Elena was told that she mustn't sing along as she always had in practice. Mrs. Morrissey was adamant. She 'mustn't sing, it will distract the judges'.
When the time came and it Elena's turn to play, she was terribly nervous. Her song was "Let it Be" by The Beatles.
She spotted her parents in the audience, second row from the front. It was nice to see them, but it didn't do much to calm her nerves. She sat down at the instrument and begged her hands to stop shaking; but then less than thirty seconds in, she hit the wrong note.
She swallowed hard and the world spun. She looked at her parents but they weren't mad. They might not have even noticed. She played on, but when she missed another note, she paused briefly to examine the silent audience. Her cheeks were burning and she was sure everyone noticed this time.
Then she heard someone humming the melody. She looked to see her father's lips closed tight and he nodded slightly when their eyes met. Elena smiled and played a few more notes and when she reached the chorus, her father's hums had escalated into singing, even her mother had joined in, but a little quieter.
She finished the song without any further mistakes, and the whole audience must have thought her parents were nuts, but it didn't matter.
She placed eighth out of eleven children, but that didn't matter either; she got a ribbon from the judge, ice cream from her parents, and a promise.
"Elena sweetheart," Her mother explained over a strawberry sundae, "You played very well out there, but I'm guessing you didn't have much fun?"
Elena stuffed her mouth with hot fudge and peanuts so she wouldn't have to reply.
"From now on, your father and I will let you choose for yourself to play or not in these contests…" Her mother paused and looked at her father. Elena could tell her mom wanted to say something else, but hadn't decided if she should.
Elena's father finished softly, "But we'd really like it if you would keep going. You're really good Lanie. You show 'em how it's done!"
Elena played for five more years, but the pageants were few and far between. After all, it wasn't always easy for her parents to find the competitions where their daughter could play and sing.
When she was thirteen, Elena placed first in a county talent show and she was to perform in the state championship with hundreds of other children.
"Mom, I don't want to do this." She insisted, pacing their kitchen floor. Her mother stood steadfastly near the fridge, doing her best not to seem too exasperated.
"Elena sweetheart, we've talked about this, you have a gift. You should share that with others and we think you might have a real shot a winning, too."
"I don't care about winning Mom, I don't care about this concert." She was near tears now and hoped that her bottom lip wasn't quivering too visibly.
Her father, who had remained silent until then, looked up from his newspaper and said calmly, "Lanie, I get it. You've done a bunch of these concerts and recitals because we looked really hard for them, but we wouldn't have done that if we didn't think you enjoyed it. Maybe just a little bit?"
"I do Dad, but I don't want to do it for them anymore. I love singing, but I'm tired of strangers judging me for it. I didn't ask for this and I don't owe them anything!"
That was a loaded phrase and it was becoming clear that their daughter might not have been referring to the judges alone.
Her parents exchanged a meaningful look before her mother continued, "That's fair sweetheart, and if that's really how you feel your father and I can respect that. But-"
Elena groaned and collapsed against the kitchen counter.
"Elena-" Her mother tried but her father set down the paper, crossed the kitchen to his wife and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. He locked eyes with her and waited for her nod before he continued.
"Lanie, I think what your mother is trying to say is this is the last time we'll ask you to do something like this."
Elena lifted her head from where it was resting on the counter. She looked from her mother to her father and said "Huh?"
Her father walked over to Elena, pulled her into a hug and explained calmly, "Look we know this piano thing was never your idea, but for seven years you've done this thing, you worked very hard, you rarely complained. I can't tell you how much that means to us. And you're right, you should be doing this for you, not for those strangers, or even for your mother and me."
Elena sniffled into her father's sweater and nodded silently.
He continued. "You're old enough to make these kind of decisions for yourself. You're so talented honey, and no matter what you do, we'll always believe in you so here, we are asking you; Lanie, do you want to play in this last concert before you go off to drama camp?" He asked slowly and deliberately, placing emphasis on the words 'want' and 'drama camp'.
Elena's breath caught in her throat and she pushed back from her father so she could meet his eyes. She had been asking for months, but her parents wanted her to focus on piano practice. She couldn't believe they would support her aspirations to write and act. "Drama camp?"
Her father's face split into a grin, "Yeah."
"So are you saying that if I go to the state championships, you'll let me go to drama camp?"
Elena's father looked at her mother and her mother added, "Oh no sweetheart, I've already sent the forms out. You're going to drama camp either way." She stated matter-of-factly. She continued a little more cautiously, "We just hoped we could hear you perform one last time before you gave piano up and started acting."
Elena was laughing now. She pushed away from her dad and practically jumped into her mother's arms.
"Thank you, Mom! Of course I'll play in the championship."
Elena's mom pushed away slightly to hold her daughter's face with both hands. "Are you sure sweetheart? That's not why we did it, you know."
Elena smiled at her mom for reassurance, "I'm sure." She pulled her mom in for another hug. "Besides, I'm no quitter. Consider it my thank you gift to you and Dad."
Almost on cue, Elena's father wrapped his large arms around them both for a giant bear hug. "Whether it's singing, playing piano, doing Shakespeare, or all three at once, we'll always be your number one fans Elena."
"We love you sweetheart."
Elena missed her first day of drama camp because of the championship, but it wasn't the third place ribbon that made it worth while, it was seeing her parents' proud faces cheering and whooping from the front row.
Elena wasn't a religious person. Her father was Catholic so she knew 'Our Father' and how to take communion, but it's not like her parents were actively practicing.
She was twenty-one when she found out both her parents were killed in a car-crash. She blamed God. She wondered how He could be so cruel. She wondered that if her parents went to church every Sunday and prayed and had confession that maybe He would have spared them.
She was angry and terrified and distraught. It was one of the hardest times in her life.
She hoped there really was a better place, that her parents really were looking down on her, and that there was some truth in all those comforting clichés. At least it got her up in the morning.
She clung to that hope because she was spiralling into darkness and she needed some foot-hold to get her through.
She didn't know what she believed; if there's a God or even heaven. She hoped there was.
When the priest asked her what music she would like at the funeral, she answered without even thinking.
"I'll sing."
She hadn't performed since she was thirteen. Sure she sung in the shower and at holidays and in the car, but nothing else would do; she had to sing for them, for their memory, and for her sanity. And she did, but only one song at the end of the service.
Through many dangers, toils, and snares,
I have already come;
Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home
She made it until the end of the popular hymn before she all but collapsed into tears. She didn't stop crying until that night when she was most of the way asleep and she swore she would never sing again.
It was almost ten years later that Elena found herself at one of Sully's (numerous?) storage units, scouring for valuables to sell during one of Sully's "dry patches". His words, not hers.
She and Nate had been married for less than a month and whatever Sully sold, he promised that half of the funds would go toward her and Nate's honeymoon.
The newlyweds tried to convince him that getting married in London with a weekend trip to Scotland was more than enough of a honeymoon for them, but Sully insisted they needed a 'real' honeymoon with "white sand, coconut flavoured beverages and all that tropical romantic shit". His words, not hers.
"What about this?" Nate asked approaching a large dusty figure covered in a white sheet. He pulled the sheet back to reveal a beautiful grand piano, all ebony and strings. Elena was taken off guard as a stream of memories invaded her thoughts. She hadn't seen a piano like that since her childhood lessons at Mrs. Morrissey's house.
"Jesus Sully, I didn't know you had one of these! How much do you think something like this is worth?"
Sully's head popped up from behind a pile of boxes and crates stacked precariously behind an old motorcycle.
"Well I'll be… I forgot about that old thing. Probably hasn't been tuned in twenty years."
"You think we can sell it?"
"Yeah right! Unless you got a ten foot flatbed truck and crane tucked in that back pocket of yours, that piece of junk's not going anywhere anytime soon. Now come here a minute, I need your help with something."
"Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on, I'm coming." Nate muttered making his way across the unit, slowing briefly to glance at his wife who remained staring at the piano in a daze.
When he was near Sully and Elena was more or less alone, she moved toward the piano cautiously. She slowly ran her hands over the fall board. Her fingers slipped under the cover and lifted.
She took her time inspecting the keyboard. There were two or three ivory panels missing, but besides that it was in lovely condidtion. Entranced, her hand hovered over G4, ready to strike when Nate appeared at her side.
"Hey Elena!" He greeted warmly. Elena was sure she jumped visibly. She slammed the fall board shut as if it offended her and pushed all of her memories back where they belonged.
"Woah sorry… Are you ok?" He asked genuinely concerned, placing his hand on her shoulder.
She shook her head and concentrated on the warmth of his palm to draw her back to the present. She knew there was a time and a place to talk to Nate about her childhood and her parents, but that place was not a dingy old storage unit three weeks after their wedding.
"Sorry Nate, I think the jet-leg is still throwing me off." It was a feeble excuse, but she figured it would have to do. "What's up?"
Nate was skeptical, but decidedly dropped it. "I'm gonna help Sully move a few crates to the truck. They're pretty heavy, so why don't you hold down the fort and I'll be back in five?"
"Sure!" Elena tried her best not to sound too spacey, but she was still reeling from the unexpected nostalgia.
"O… k?" Nate took a few paces toward Sully before turning on his heel and returning to Elena so he could place a quick but tender kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Love you."
Elena couldn't help but smile, "I love you, too." Nate was halfway across the unit when she called after him as and after-thought. "Have fun with the crates, don't sprain your back or anything!"
Nate looked back and chuckled over his shoulder at her. He gave her a quick thumbs up before turning his back to size up the biggest crate of four.
Elena winced at her own awkward comment. This whole marriage thing was still very new and a little strange.
She overheard the two banter on their way out of the unit.
"What's in these things anyway?"
"Crystal vases."
"Vases?"
"Don't you ever watch 'Antiques Roadshow'? Or 'Storage Wars'?"
"I - no. Why would I-"
"These things are worth a goddamn fortune."
"Vases?"
"Sure."
Their voices faded and Elena was left to confront the piano alone.
Sully said it hadn't been tuned in a years, and curiosity got the better of her.
G. Pause. D. G. E.
B minor, E, A minor.
Again.
Before she knew it, Elena had sat herself on the piano bench and sang softly.
Stars shining bright above you,
Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'
By the time she finished as much as she could remember, she realized that her husband was standing in the nearby doorway, slouching slightly and totally dumbstruck. She jumped up from the bench and felt her cheeks burn.
"Uh. How long were you standing there?"
He remained still expression totally unchanging.
"Nate?" She was so embarrassed.
"That was… wow." He finally replied, scrubbing his hand over his chin and mouth.
"Oh god. You weren't supposed to hear that. I don't- I can't-"
She was so flustered. Memories of her concerts and practice and her parent's cheering her on swam through her mind. Their faces, their smiles… it was too much. She couldn't let herself break, though. Not like that. Nate would think she was crazy.
"Elena that was-"
"Nate don't. I can't do that anymore."
"Clearly you can, I mean that was-"
"Nate please." She glanced over his shoulder and out of the unit where she saw Sully meandering toward them. She straightened her back, cleared her throat, and shoved all of those raw emotions away. She squeezed Nate's left hand with both of hers and pleaded gently, "I can't. Just not right now, ok?"
His face was stuck somewhere between confusion and concern. He nodded slightly before Elena turned them both around to face Sully.
"How did that go? Anymore boxes?" Elena inquired, perhaps a little too brightly, especially since her husband's face was still frozen in perplexion.
Sully looked from Nate to Elena. "Fine…? Am I interrupting something here?"
Elena nudged Nate as subtly as she could.
"No." Was all he could manage. She did her best not to groan audibly.
"All right then…" Sully replied, spacing the words out, "There are two more boxes I need on the truck but, I mean," He gestured between the two of them, a lit cigar clasped between his thumb and index finger, "If you two need a minute…"
"Sully really, we're fine," Elena reassured him, much more sincerely. "Why don't you bring the truck around and Nate and I will look after it."
Before either man could say a thing, Elena drug Nate away. Sully shook his head and muttered under his breath as he made his way to the truck.
She wasn't sure if Nate bought it from Sully or the pair of them planned it as a wedding gift, but the piano reappeared in her and Nate's apartment two weeks later, polished and tuned.
Nate insisted he knew nothing of it, but would ask her if she thought ('No pressure, though!') she'd ever use it in the same breath.
It wasn't until after Iram and they had taken a mortgage out on their first house that she so much as lifted the fall board.
It was 3:34 AM and a beautiful, bald, pink-cheeked baby girl was screaming bloody murder into the meagre night.
Nate bobbed and cooed and rocked and rubbed but nothing would soothe his two-month old daughter. He was just about ready to collapse into tears himself.
"Do you want me to try again?" Elena offered, looking utterly exhausted.
Nate handed their baby over and flopped into a nearby rocking chair. "I think maybe-"
"A soother?"
"Huh," Nate blinked, "I know you said you didn't want to create an 'unnecessary dependence', but-"
"Forget what I said. I'm an idiot. Go."
Nate didn't need to be told twice. The twenty-four hour pharmacy was four blocks away, and if he left his pyjamas on, he'd be back in less than ten minutes. He kissed his wife and his daughter both on their foreheads before leaving and promised, "I'll be as quick as humanly possible."
Elena nodded her farewell and their daughter screeched hers.
She rocked and paced and bobbed and cooed but nothing could soothe the colicky baby.
"Come on sweetheart," She pleaded, unintentionally using her mother's recycled term of endearment, "Oh baby girl, what I wouldn't do…" And then she thought of it.
If you should fall to pieces,
You know I'll pick them up,
The baby's cries slowed. Elena sang on.
Oh what I wouldn't do,
Oh what I wouldn't do,
I'll carry the weight,
I'll do anything for you,
My bones may break,
But I'll never be untrue
As Elena went into the gentle riffs in the song, her daughter's cries subdued into hiccups. She sang as much as she could remember stared in awe as her baby girl finally sighed into sleep.
Elena's eyes swam with tears, it was silly that such a simple solution had alluded her for so long. Something she alone could offer her child suddenly made all that her parents taught her about piano and singing ring true. She was humbled by their past wisdom and so overwhelmed by the revelation, she couldn't help but chuckle out a little sob.
"'Lena?"
She gasped softly at the sound of Nate's voice in the doorway. "Hey." She whispered as a greeting, too exhausted to hide her tears. "Guess who is finally asleep."
Nate was floored. "Elena you did it." He left the bag where he stood, and tip-toed across the nursery. He leaned heavily against the crib where Elena had just deposited their baby, pressed his lips against Elena's temple, and held it there for a long time until her sniffles siphoned off.
"That was amazing."
"Yeah well," She said brushing off what was left of her tears, "You tuckered her out for me."
"No Elena, I don't just mean getting her down, you sang to her," He stared at her as if she hung the moon, "That was the most beautiful thing-"
"Stop..." She laughed.
"No I'm serious. You're incredible. I know I caught you singing that one time with Sully, but…"
"We never talked about it."
"No we didn't, did we?"
"We didn't talk about a lot of things."
"Do you want to? Talk about it, I mean?"
Elena sighed. She was so tired but they've been through so much since that day in the storage unit, she figured that was as good a time as any.
"Well, you know my parents died when I was younger."
"Yeah. Car accident right?"
Elena nodded stiffly in response. Twelve years later and it was still hard to talk about. "I used to sing for them all the time when I was a kid. Well, sing and play piano. They never asked for much from me, but they loved to hear me perform. It made them so happy."
Nate just watched her intently.
"Well when they died, I sang at their funeral. I decided," She sniffled, "I decided it would be like one last time just for them, you know? Even though they'd never-" Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks and she choked back a sob.
"Oh Elena-" Nate murmured wiping her tears away with the pad of his thumb.
She harrowed on. "Well after that I said I would never sing again. I was sure it would only ever be this dark reminder that they were gone forever, and it just-"
"It hurt too much?"
"Yeah. But when I hold her," Elena turned her attention back to the baby, smiling brightly through the tears. "It's like everything is better. Nothing hurts as much as it used to and I thought maybe," Elena paused and let out a long shaky breath, "Maybe it could make her happy, too."
Nate pushed Elena's dishevelled hair back and cradled her head in his hands. He covered her lips with his own and traced his kisses all the way up her jawline and when he reached her hairline, he pulled her into a tight, urgent hug.
They stayed like that for a few moments before he moved back to look at her fully. She was smiling even though her tears were falling fairly steadily.
"But does it make you happy, 'Lena?"
Elena thought about it for a moment.
"No."
Nate was puzzled.
"No Nate, I don't need to sing to make me happy. One look at our little girl over there and I don't think anything could make me happier."
A/N2: I had a few ideas for baby names (Holly, Nellie, Penny etc) but I couldn't decide so I left it ambiguous. I DIDN'T WANT THAT KIND OF RESPONSIBILITY OK?
Hey, since you're down here, wanna send me a review? I mean, what else are you gonna do while you wait for Uncharted 4? Also I love you!