Note: Still own nothing. Tell me if the story's becoming dragging. I'm simply following a working outline (to which I've been swaying on for some details I wished to highlight). Do not hesitate to ask questions or to share your suggestions. Enjoy! :)

Guest: Yes. Thank you for reading!

Trapid: Gideon never cheated on Edna with Gothel. The only time I've depicted their relationship was during the first chapter, which was set before their marriage. Thank you for reading!

The room was bathed with the afternoon glow.

Pitch never liked the light. Even in his childhood, he was averse to mornings when the sun would rise majestically in the sky. In his room, he rarely opened the main light, opting instead for the reading light near his bed. He would hide under the blankets and spend time at the basement of their old house. Born as his mother died, nobody really ever coaxed him out of his shell.

Then his father died, and an elder half-sister he never met came to his life.

Gothel practically raised him. Two orphans left to face the world, it was a wonder he was able to attain his achievements in life. He owed her everything – from the clothes on his back to the roof over his head to the money he earned. And all these, he would not gain if Gothel left her for the hounds in the streets. This responsibility she performed led to his loyalty, even if it means staying by her side as her psyche became too damaged to perceive the world.

He bore the brunt of her wounds, slathered the balm, and almost choked her with the antidote for the poison that was love. He had committed himself to her cause – avenge or die trying – and had allowed her to lie languorously on the couch of their measly abode or concoct her plan to gain her old lover back. He played the perfect subordinate to the budding Gideon Arendelle as he juggled with his sister's problems.

But he met the woman – the sunlight that lingered, the brightness that never waned, and the warmth that slinked into the cold chamber that secured him from the world.

Even in her deep sleep, she continued to shine for him.

Pitch visited upon Gideon's request. The man did not want to leave his wife, so he contacted Pitch to bring the job to him. He had been working nonstop from when Pitch came in the morning, which was advantageous since Edna is situated in a nifty suite. Hours passed and Gideon wasvstill with another employee on the phone.

God forbid he would pity his employer and have feelings for his employer's wife at the same time. But it happened.

Tasked to sit on the couch that served as a makeshift bed for Gideon, Pitch observed Edna. Gideon would not talk about her condition, only that she is stable as reported by the doctor and that it would take some time for her to grace them with her exuberance.

He craved to touch her, embrace hold, just hold her in any form he can. Throughout the years he's worked under her husband, Pitch discovered a friend in the lively Edna Arendelle. The woman is a ray of sunshine whenever she visits their office, and working closely with Gideon, Pitch had been invited in their humble abode frequently. She grew on him with her kindness and spiritedness; it did even hurt as much when he finally felt it.

Caving in to his desires, he walked towards the bed. Assuming Gideon to spend some time dealing with the caller in his personal line, Pitch cradled Edna's hands to his. They were slender and long, hands of a pianist that played them sonatas of her own whenever the family have friends coming over. He could feel the callous on her fingers, reminded of the beauty of her artworks. The pads of his hand felt for her knuckles, ultimately reaching for her rings.

Years into their marriage, tension is still present between the Arendelle couple. While time has aided in developing their relationship to something akin to close friendship, it only seemed to contribute into repelling the issue of their commitment to each other. While unaware of the details of their personal life, Pitch has observed the affection of the couple for each other, and has already caught them acting on it. Whether they come together for their physical or emotional reasons shouldn't be his concern, yet he couldn't deny it how his heart cracks whenever the two would show the world of their unspoken connection.

It is a hopeless love, he is aware, but he will fight for his lost because the fight is not only for him. It is also for his sister and her desires. For now. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all.

Saddening as their fate appears, Pitch could do nothing but watch over her.

He lifted her hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss in its back with his lips lingering as he inhaled the scent of her skin and of the bleach the room was cleaned with. He placed it back quickly, turning his heel as he sat back on the couch.

The door opened, and a small bob of blonde entered the room followed by a larger man.

"Hello, Uncle Pitch," Elsa greeted, smiling at him. Pitch let his lips quirk upward.

"Hello, little queen," he ruffled her hair as she passed by her, peering towards her sleeping mother. The little girl took her mother's hand and pressed her palm against her cheek. She went back to his father before walking outside, where Kai would meet her for their accommodations.

Gideon remained leaning against the doorf rame, his lean, strong body seemingly coiled. He was gazing at his wife with an unreadable expression.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Arendelle?" Pitch initiated.

Gideon directed a piercing look back at him, "Nothing."

Elsa swung her feet back and forth as she laid her sketchpad open.

It has been two days since her mother's accident. Sometimes, Elsa would come to her room to sit down and just draw. While she would typically draw princesses in their castles with their beautiful dresses and fancy crowns, these days she could mimic the features of the dying boy he saw at the emergency room.

The last time she held her drawing materials was during their first night as soon as she settled in her cozy hotel bed. She drew him and breathed him life in gradients of black and blue. She drew him a house – a cabin situated amidst the snowy forest, slopes of white and gray in the background. She drew him skating; in his face, one could see a hidden mischief and an obvious exhilaration.

The left side of the couch sunk, and a small body pressed itself against her back. Elsa froze, hugging the sketchpad immediately to her chest.

"Aww man, don't hide it. You drew Jackie boy well!" The intruder whined.

"Excuse me," Elsa murmured, rising from her seat and walking as fast as her small legs could carry her. Where is Kai?

Another set of footsteps echoed hers, "Wait up! Don't go!" A hand clasped her forearm, stopping her tracks. Blue eyes lifted to her right, where it met brown.

Brown eyes sparkled in glee as she finally paid him attention. Naturally tousled brown hair and round cheeks and larger ears distinguish him from the boy in her drawing. Elsa blinked rapidly, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry I drew your friend," Elsa bit her lip in nervousness. I feel like that creepy old woman Gerda told us about.

"It's okay, really. Jack won't care. He likes art," the boy shrugged. "I'm Jamie. Jack's my cousin," he smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, Jamie. I'm Elsa," she offered a hand. Jamie frowned in confusion. Elsa moved her hand back, but Jamie finally caught on and shook it.

"You're a weird girl, Elsa," Jamie mused. "Weird, but pretty. Jackie boy will like you."

Pink tinged her cheeks. "I saw my parents shake people's hands. I just did what they do."

Jamie nodded his head in understanding. His nose scrunched as he thought of his next question. "So Elsa, how did you know my cousin?"

Blue eyes became downcast, her own frown surfacing. "I saw him downstairs when they brought him in."

A sharp gasp came from Jamie. "D-Did he...D-Did he really...die?"

Her ears piqued in surprise. While some children are unable to process death when it came, Elsa has been exposed to it. Her parents have allowed her to be privy of the reason why her grandparents died years ago, and was grateful for the opportunity to understand. The dead stopped living. They ceased to function in this world. With Jamie talking to her in the present, it only meant that the pale, beautiful boy lived through the night.

"I don't really know, Jamie." She shook her head.

Silence enveloped the two children as they stood in the middle of the hallway. Kai is still missing, and her father is still talking to her Uncle Pitch. There really was nothing to do.

"Do you want to see Jack?" Jamie suddenly offered.

Elsa's eyes widened. "Is it okay?"

"I could just tell them you're his girlfriend," he teased, earning a smack on the arm from Elsa. Jamie guffawed. "We can just sneak in. If you walk fast enough, maybe they won't see us."

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. I'm going to break the rules! As unopposed (almost) as she was in rule-breaking whenever Anna strings her along, Elsa is uncomfortable with it. In the end, curiosity reined it. Elsa nodded and let Jamie lead the way.

Jack's room was on the other side of the hallway, where the children were admitted. Stealthily, Jamie avoided the hospital personnel and went expertly on his way. Reaching the door, he rested his ear against the door, listening for any foreign sound from inside.

"Jack is alone inside. I'll wait for you here. If I knock twice, it means someone is around the corner. Got it?" Jamie instructed. Elsa was amused by the seriousness in his tone, but decided to just trust him.

"If you see a man that looks like him," Elsa took a small pouch from the folds of her dress to present Jamie with Kai's picture, "knock three times."

The room smelled similarly like her mother's. The walls were painted blue, and more machines were inside the room. Wringing her hands together, she approached the left side of the bed. Elsa climbed the chair and sat on the empty space beside the body on the bed carefully.

While they were waiting for her mother's doctor to call his father a few days ago, Elsa asked Kai about the basic tools and equipment present in the hospital. The man conjured a file (she swears Kai is a walking encyclopedia) and showed her pictures and descriptions of her request. As she gazed at the boy in front of her, she recognized the tube to help him breathe (like the one she saw them shoving down his throat that night), the tube that gave him food, the other that gave him fluids and the bags that contain them. His hair, paler than hers that Elsa was unsure if it is his real hair color, peaked from the bandages wrapped in his head. He is a canvas of reds and blues and greens.

"Beautiful," she whispered. Elsa once asked her father what he thought of his mother, and he told her she is beautiful because there was no other sight in the world he would want to rest his eyes on forever but her. She's a child, and Gerda called such childish frivolity infatuation. If this is infatuation, so be it.

She touched his hand, which was almost icy. She rubbed her palms together and engulfed his, a futile attempt to make him feel warm.

Pretending that they're meeting under normal circumstances, where she's a third-grader having a new seatmate in class, she spoke.

"Hello, Jack. My name is Elsa."