AN: Well hello there, lovelies! Welcome to the chaos, again. This story contains all sorts of wonderful warnings — angst, mention of character death (not graphic), sex, discussion of prostitution (also not graphic), depression, all that good stuff. It's ultimately a happy story about our two favorite sisters, although no incest. It's a story of love and devotion, and is, in the end, a Kristanna fic (which surprised me as I tend to lean toward Elsanna but hey, this story had a mind of its own I guess!) Love, Love, Love.

**Disney owns Frozen, and Frozen owns US!**

Chapter 1

Warnings for this chapter: see above!

My sister thinks I don't know where she goes every night. She thinks I'm sound asleep when she quietly slides out of the bed we share in the room with the creaking floorboards, tucking the blankets around me a little extra because our heat got shut off three months ago and we haven't had the money to get it turned back on again. She thinks I don't notice when she pulls off her sweatpants and hoodie in the dark of the bedroom, revealing her skimpy clothes underneath. She doesn't know I've seen her take her purse, check and make sure her pepper spray and birth control pills are in there, before she silently slips out the door.

My sister thinks I don't know that she's dying inside. She thinks I'm still sound asleep when she tiptoes back in early in the morning hours, when it's still dark outside but the light is just tinting the horizon and the birds are starting to flutter in the trees. She thinks I don't hear her sobbing silently into her pillow after she crawls back in the bed with me. She thinks I don't feel her body shaking, see her hands clutching the blanket so tightly that her knuckles are white. She doesn't know I hear her being sick in the bathroom sometimes before coming back to bed.

She tells me she's tired, that she didn't sleep well. She tells me she's just going to lay in bed a little bit longer and then go out and look for work some more. I tell her 'that's fine; that I'm going to go out and see what I can find, and then probably go see Hans for a bit, and maybe see if anyone downtown can spare a few bucks, so don't worry if I'm not home for a while, okay Elsa?' And she always says, 'okay, be careful, baby sister.'

But what my sister doesn't know is that I'm not going to look for work. I'm not going to see Hans. I actually already have a job, and what my sister doesn't know is that she and I are in the same line of work.

—

We were fourteen and twelve when our parents died. We didn't have any grandparents and Dad was an only child. Mom had a sister but she disappeared before we were even born, so it's not like we really had anywhere to go. It's funny how when no one raises a fuss about two kids living on their own, it just kind of flies under the radar of mostly everyone. So here we are, six years later, still living in the same apartment. It's a two bedroom but the one room has a ton of mold in it, so now we just use the other bedroom. It's freezing, so we share a bed. Which is just as well, since we sold the other one.

We have some money, but all we have is what's left of the savings we managed to compile when Elsa had her job at that bar on Oak street, but after the kitchen caught fire two months ago, they just closed the place and it won't ever reopen. So we're burning through the money we have, and unfortunately some bills just had to go unpaid. Like the heat, for example. And it's fucking freezing in October.

—

I leave Elsa in bed. It takes everything I have. She looks so helpless there. It just about breaks my heart, knowing my big sister is putting herself through so much pain just to try and make money to keep us alive. I'm sure it would break her heart if she knew I was doing the same. I love her more than anything in the world and I'd do anything to protect her, even though she's older than me.

It's cold when I walk to work. I'm not that cold, though. Elsa's always cold. It's because she's so thin, I'm pretty sure. When I snuggle up to her in the mornings when she comes home, her waist is so tiny that I can almost wrap my arms around her one and a half times. Her collarbones always show. I want to turn myself into a giant blanket and wrap around her, hold her tight until she's warm from the inside out. I want to turn into a big bubble and surround her, protect her from everything. But I can't. Maybe someday.

I pull open the heavy wooden door in the middle of the brick wall. The door makes this god-awful sound when you open it. It's like the hinges are being tortured and they scream and groan. Or maybe they're just mimicking the sounds they hear from inside the building.

My boss, Ivan, is waiting for me. He tells me I'm late and that I'd better not be late again, especially not on a day like today because he has someone new for me. I always tense up when he says shit like that because someone new could either be someone new to me or someone new in general. I'm the newest girl here, though, so I get literally no say in who or what I do. I haven't even been here a month, so I still haven't gotten paid. Ivan tells me this guy is a little deviant, but that he's paid up front, so I'd better be on my best behavior. I don't like the sound of that.

Ivan also tells me I'm in the Blue Room today. I want to glare at him and tell him I'd rather be in any other room than that, because blue is Elsa's color and I don't want to even think of her when I'm here. Yes, she's always in the back of my mind, but I don't want to think of her because then I'll get the image of her doing something similar and I'll just cry. That happened once and the client left and never came back. Ivan yelled at me for half a day after that, so I learned my lesson. But I have no choice. The Blue Room is my destiny for today.

Ivan's new client is a newbie all around. He's about fifty, has the most awful beard I've ever seen and he smells like onions and dust. He wants me to pretend to be his daughter, which is just all kinds of fucked up and I have to work really hard not to grimace or gag. He asks me how old I am and I give my standard answer, which is, 'I am anything you want me to be.' Sick. So today I'm Penelope, his fourteen year old daughter, and I have to call him daddy and suck him off and beg for more. He leaves after an hour and a half and I am literally retching for the rest of the morning. He tipped me, though. Ten dollars. He's the first that's ever done that.