A/N: Hello, my lovelies. Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews and wishes for good luck on my midterms haha. This is the big week so I don't know when I'll be able to post again, but I guarantee it'll be up by Saturday at the latest!
For the record, I thought it was hilarious when that one nurse turned a new shade of red that I had never quite seen before. A little scary, too, yeah, but I had Anna by my side.
She thought it was hilarious, too, and throughout the argument with the nurse (in which Anna actually sided with me about leaving the hospital four days despite not liking it herself), we both had to try to hide our giggles as the nurse's face went through the whole rouge spectrum. The looks Anna and I would exchange did not help in the slightest.
Why was Anna helping me leave the hospital so early?
I might've promised I'd let her take care of me. Not hover – we talked it out and established a very defined difference between taking care of me and acting like I was an infant. Letting me lean on her when I got too weak to walk – that would be taking care of me. Trying to literally spoon-feed me – that would be hovering. And yes, she did attempt that. She conceded that she did sometimes act like a martyr to avoid her own problems and I conceded that I might, sometimes, act maybe just a tad bit childish.
Thursday night was spent with a small 'party' celebrating my 'release'. Notice the air quotations, because party translates to a few people at my apartment who hadn't been able to visit me in the hospital, and rather than me having been released, it felt more like a jailbreak. It was almost thrilling. I didn't think I'd ever forget the horror on everyone's faces.
As per my promise to Anna, when we got back to my apartment, I let her guide me down to my air mattress. She did ask where half of my stuff went, and I muttered something about having thrown it all away. And she left it at that.
Er, so I wished. She did, in fact, grill me about my weeks of self-isolation following the Halloween party. There was a couple of times that we almost fought again but ended up realizing that that wouldn't get us anywhere and instead just talked. I told her what I was comfortable saying, and she eventually learned to not press too hard.
One thing that was amazing was that my gloves had been removed and put into my personal effects, and not once did I have a voice in my head urging me to put them back on. I hated my gloves…
It was Friday morning, and Anna was slowly, sluggishly moving about the apartment, getting herself ready. Although we had both officially decided to ditch all of our classes for the week, I insisted that I had to talk to the director of MSU's Wicked before Thanksgiving break, and while Anna was initially opposed, she relented after some time with the condition that she comes with me. She had decided to go to her flute lesson, too, which just happened to be right after the director's office hours.
I was bent over on the edge of the inflatable mattress (which we had shared last night), tying the laces of my right sneaker and securing the bulky brace on my left foot. The position was uncomfortable and made it even harder to breathe.
Anna sifted through the bottles in my medicine cupboard. "One day," she declared, "you're going to tell me what each one of these is. I haven't even heard of most of them."
I rolled my eyes and didn't honor that with a verbal reply, but I did thank her when she brought over all of the appropriate medications with a glass of water. I was still taking my regular agoraphobia and anxiety meds (though the former of which had gotten significantly better with having Anna around, and I wondered if I even needed it anymore), but now I had the addition of painkillers to keep me from feeling the full agony of having a bullet literally shatter a main bone and tear through my heart. Like I was feeling now.
After downing the pills, and almost choking on the sheer amount (maybe I should've done one at a time, but it's too late to reconcile that), I let out a small groan. "Hate that…" I muttered under my breath.
Anna was quiet as she sat down next to me to put her own shoes on. I watched her hesitantly for a moment. I hated how sad she always looked nowadays. What I hated more, though, was the fact that I was certain I was at the heart of her sadness.
We would need some time for things to fully recover. It had been a rough week… A rough month, really. You know what? Fuck it. It had been a rough year.
I didn't need much further contemplation before deciding that I wanted to see her smile again. Within seconds, I had braced my right foot on the floor and leaned over, digging my fingers into her sides.
Anna shrieked in surprise, jerkily trying to get away from me as I launched a full-blown tickling on her. She screeched with laughter, trying to push me back. I pinned her to the bed, grinning as I unleashed my relentless attack.
"El… Elsa!" she cried between her giggles. "St… St… Stop! That… hahaha… That t-tickles!"
"That's the point, ya stinker!" I laughed.
In spite of her cries, I refused to stop, continuing to wiggle my fingers against her sides. Her initial carefulness around my injuries faded away as she was overcome with giggles, no longer thinking quite straight. She desperately tried to get away from me, but I had her stuck underneath me and didn't allow her to get far.
"Elsa! Can't… breathe!" she gasped, tears streaming down her face. She was desperately trying to suck air in, and only once her face was nearing the redness of the nurse at the hospital did I let up.
I rolled off of her, riding down off of my own laughter. The tickle idea may not have been the best idea, since laughter was contagious, and I had ended up giggling through the entire thing, and once I stopped, I felt the full force of the pressure it had had on my chest.
"Ow, shit, fuck…" I growled, pressing a hand to my chest. Anna sat up, letting out a few remaining chuckles.
"You're the stinker. I can't even tickle you back – how unfair is that?" she complained, and I stuck my tongue out at her.
It didn't last long, though, and we ended up grinning at each other. "Do you feel better, at least?"
"Yeah," she said, her smile growing. She reached over and drew me in for a loose, tender hug. "Thanks, Elsa."
"Anything for you, Sunshine."
It would be an understatement to say that the director of MSU's Wicked production, Dr. Lopez, was surprised to see me. I had emailed him beforehand about it, but he still seemed shocked when I stepped into his office.
Walking through the music building and up the flight of stairs to the second floor was awkward and uncomfortable for me, and I was certain that I wouldn't have been able to do it if Anna wasn't at my side, clutching my hand. Since I was a senior who had performed as a lead or prominent role in several musicals throughout the years, a majority of the music majors at least knew of me. And they had pretty much all heard about what happened on Sunday, if their constant glances towards me were any indication.
"Elsa!" Dr. Lopez greeted me in surprise when I walked into his office. "It's good to see you!"
Christy was there, and so was Nate (the actor for Fiyero), and my understudy, Nami. Everyone's eyes were immediately on me, and I felt my cheeks heat up a little. Nami had been lounging in the chair across from Dr. Lopez, but when I entered, she immediately stood up and offered it to me.
Not wanting to be pitied or made into a charity, I waved my hand dismissively. My legs did feel a bit like twigs, though, so I leaned against the wall for support and crossed my arms over my stomach. No one said anything, so I raised and eyebrow and shrugged. "Don't let me stop you."
"We're just happy to see you okay, I guess," Nate offered with a breathy sort of laugh, to which the others nodded.
"Well, you know me. 'Nobody, in all of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, is ever gonna bring me down'," I recited one of my lines from Defying Gravity with a grin. The joke was not entirely well-received, for only Christy cracked a smirk, the others still looking concerned. "Oh, come on. I'm alive, aren't I?"
"I don't think any of us were expecting to see you out of the hospital so soon. Are you sure it's safe to be… here?" Dr. Lopez asked.
I rolled my eyes and shrugged again. "I wasn't a prisoner. I'm still going to perform in three weeks."
That was only met with more silence, at least until Christy chuckled and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Of course, you are, Elsa. Nothing can keep you down, after all. I'm pretty sure death came to take you and you just glared at it and said 'no'."
"Maybe," I replied with a teasing grin.
"Did the doctors clear you to perform in three weeks?" Dr. Lopez questioned hesitantly.
"Nope. Does it matter?"
"Technically, no… But you should probably listen to them."
I sighed and rolled my eyes again. "I mean, probably, yeah, but I've gotten this far without them. Look, this is, like, my dream role. I know that sounds stupid and childish, but I'm going to perform it. Maybe not all five times that MSU is putting it on, but at least the first one. This is a big deal to me, and I worked my ass off to get this role, so I'm sorry if I'm not going to let a little matter of near-death stop me."
Christy laughed, shaking her head, and slowly began to clap. "Elsa Voll, everyone – the most stubborn bitch there ever was." I didn't take offense, instead smiling genuinely at her. "I say, if she wants to perform, she's made a pretty good case."
Dr. Lopez shot a look at Nami, who still looked undecided, but eventually let out a breath and shook her head. "She's crazy," she told the director. "Absolutely crazy. Who am I to stand in the way of such an MSU legend, though?"
Now, Dr. Lopez looked a bit more defeated, but he still glanced at Nate, probably hoping someone would be on his side, even if they were outnumbered already by the rest of us.
Nate held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I'm not taking sides here. If she wants to work herself to her grave, I don't think I could stop her anyway. None of us could. I think it would be quite an accomplishment to show everyone that, even if she gets shot, she just gets up, brushes off the dust, and does her job. The show must go on, right?"
"Fine," Dr. Lopez breathed, and I grinned at all of them. "But the moment you feel weak or pained or whatever, Elsa, you let us know. We'll have Nami already greenified to take over should you have to duck out in the middle of a show. Do you understand?"
"Aye, aye, captain," I joked and gave a mock salute.
"We'll just have to go easier during As Long As You're Mine," Nate pointed out.
I narrowed my eyes at him in spite of my elation at Dr. Lopez's relent. "Not at all. When we get to that scene, you kiss me like you mean it," I teased.
"Like two lovers, recently reunited and just trying to spend as much time together as possible before things all go to shit," Christy sighed, pretending to swoon into Nami, who caught her with a laugh.
"As things do," I nodded.
"Tell me, Eponine," Nate said suddenly. "After you got shot, did you sing A Little Fall of Rain?"
The reference to last year's spring musical – Les Miserables, where I had played Eponine and Nate had played Marius – made me grin. "No… Damn, that's an opportunity missed. I should have."
"I don't think I'll ever forget holding you in my arms as you died… five times. Your acting was so realistic," he laughed.
"I try," I gave a mock bow.
We discussed a few more things, and then Christy and I walked out, the other two lingering to ask Dr. Lopez something else.
Anna had already gone into her lesson by the time I was out, so Christy and I took up the empty couch in the second floor seating area, the same one that I had heard Zachary feeding lies about me to Anna on, some millennia ago (or so it felt).
"So, how are things?" she asked, and I was grateful that she didn't ask how I was.
Still, I shrugged and picked at a loose thread on my old worn t-shirt. "I mean, I got shot less than a week ago, but things are actually… Kind of shitless? I'm talking to people again, at least."
"I've noticed," she remarked, and then grinned cheekily in response to my scoff. "I'm not gonna ask what happened, but I did hear about the party. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."
"No, it's fine… I kind of… I got scared. About sort of stupid stuff. I can't really be specific, but there's very good reason why I got scared – there's just also very good reason why I shouldn't have gotten scared. I don't really let people in. Anna's the one that came in and literally tore down my walls, brick by brick. I was doing fine before."
"Are you doing worse now than you were before?"
I hesitated, and then shook my head. "No. I don't think so, at least. I'd like to think that being more open is a good thing."
"Sometimes, it helps to just… talk about stuff," Christy suggested. "I lost my twin brother five or so years ago, and I was pretty fucking furious. I didn't think anyone understood the sort of pain that I was feeling. No one could understand. My mother sat me down at one point, though, and she said that she wasn't going to leave until I talked to her. That pissed me off, but in hindsight, it was good, because I felt a lot better afterwards."
I nodded, part of me wanting to reach out in condolence for her brother, but the other part of me being too awkward and anxious to do so. After all, I didn't know Christy as well as Anna or Graham or Abbie. Instead, I settled for just scooting an inch or so closer. "I'm sorry," was all I could get past the lump in my throat.
"It's in the past," she reassured me with a smile. "I'm never going to be over it, necessarily, but I understand that he wouldn't want me to spend every minute of every day grieving over him. I learned to celebrate him as well."
Then, she pulled down the front of her shirt, showing me her tattoo, which rested just under the left side of her collarbone. It was a heart, like she had told Graham so long ago in that game of truth or dare. It was a bright shade of red with a single word written inside in black cursive – 'Samuel'.
"Don't tell Graham – I want to keep him guessing," she giggled.
"I won't, promise."
She put the collar of her shirt back in place and leaned back, closing her eyes contentedly. "Life isn't about tragedy. It's about how we deal with tragedy. I admire you for that. You can't let misfortune hold you back from your dreams. You just gotta… I don't know, go forth. Move on. Say 'I'm here, and I'm not leaving'."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything at all, and if it bugged her, she didn't comment on it. We sat in silence for a few minutes, her deep in contemplation or whatever and me still picking at that thread as I waited for Anna.
I only looked up when I saw feet stop right in front of me.
When I looked up, I was not expecting to see Maggie standing above me, looking a bit different than normal. It was hard to describe, but I could tell that she definitely looked tired, dark circles under her eyes and her short mousy brown hair messy.
"Elsa," she said quietly. "I… I heard what happened."
In spite of my injuries, I curled in on myself a little. I felt Christy's concerned gaze, but kept my own on Maggie, just in case she tried anything. I had never been the physically strongest person, and I never had the best constitution, but now, I was even weaker than before. If she grabbed me and tossed me in a trash can like she did when we were in middle and high school, I didn't know if I'd be able to get out of it.
Of course, she didn't. Probably because of her graduate position that I figured she did care about. That was the thing about Maggie, you know. She could get away with the riskiest shit just because no one had the guts to call her out on it. She was too…intimidating. It was hard to exchange two words with her without realizing how dominant her personality was.
That also made seeing her now, in this weird – dare I say, almost hesitant – state, so much more jarring. Her hand was tightly clutching the strap of her bag, and she seemed to be trying to find words to say.
"…Are you okay?"
What she eventually settled on shocked all present, I think. I narrowed my gaze at her, trying to figure out what game she was playing. Instinctually, one of my hands came up to rub lightly at my wound, my other arm wrapped securely around my stomach.
I waited in bated silence for Maggie to say something else, but she just kept staring at me with that strange look – was she nervous? She wasn't meeting my gaze – rather, staring at one of my shoulders, as if she couldn't meet my gaze. It was so, so strange, and I felt a bubble of resentment within me. How dare she?
"Why do you care?" I bit, though I lost my confidence halfway through and directed my gaze at my lap.
The words had an instantaneous effect on her. She straightened her posture, smoothed back her hair, and glared at me. "I don't. Shut up." She looked like she wanted to say more, but that same nervousness flicked across her face one more time before it set again, and she turned and walked briskly away.
I shared a confused look with Christy, but then Anna came out of her lesson right after, so we were forced to just leave it be.
With the somewhat impromptu trip to Tourrence coming up – which Anna and I were leaving for Sunday morning – I had to quickly try to sort out a few things and make sure I could go. One of which was talking to Mr. Carver for permission to miss my therapy session on Tuesday.
I had never actually been to Tourrence, being from Evansy, myself, but I knew that it was one of the more rural towns. It was about a two-hour drive from Crewsbury, so there was very little chance I'd be willing to pay the gas money to come back up for my therapy.
Luckily, Mr. Carver was not an unreasonable man. He understood the situation and gave me permission to skip just this once (my previous skip, where I had been in a coma, was okay, too, for obvious reasons), as long as I cleared it with Dr. Morrison. Which I did shortly after. I also asked her for a favor when I came back…
I think I've mentioned this before, but I'd become more trusting with Dr. Morrison over the past few weeks than I had in the past few years that she'd been my therapist. As she had promised, she didn't tell anyone about my magic, and now that she knew, our conversation was a bit more open and honest. I still sometimes fought opening up and talking, but once she got me talking, I was more at peace with it, if that makes sense? We mostly used metaphors to refer to my powers (since I don't trust Big Brother; call me paranoid, but when your deepest, darkest secrets get into government hands, don't come crying to me), but the difference was that she actually understood the metaphors. When I called myself 'the cold', it wasn't an unhealthy coping mechanism, it was an unhealthy self-deprecation, and that helped her help me.
I knew that we'd have a lot to talk about when I came back from Tourrence, but it could wait. There were other things that were more important, after all.
Another thing that I had had to do was contact Graham and make sure his grandma was okay with taking care of my cats for another week. I missed them, so much, but I knew that it wouldn't be good for them to bring them back home and then immediately leave them with someone else for a week.
Graham said it was okay. He'd be working on getting his grandma a cat or two of her own over the week away from MSU. I'd just have to wait to see my babies again. I could do that. After all, I had done a lot of waiting in my life.
"We're taking my car," Anna declared as she struggled with closing an overstuffed suitcase. "No offense."
I smirked and crossed over to her, gently nudging her aside so I could work with the suitcase. "No wonder you can't close this thing. Didn't anyone teach you how to fold?" I teased. She blushed and mumbled something under her breath. With a laugh, I set to work taking out all of the clothing she had shoved inside and beginning to fold them.
"Oh, whatever did I do without you?" Anna remarked with a roll of her eyes.
"Is that sarcasm I hear? Am I truly beginning to rub off on you?"
She grinned cheekily and bumped my shoulder with hers. "That's not such a bad thing, maybe," she giggled. "I can't wait for you to meet my family. I'm… a bit nervous, too."
"You don't talk about them a lot," I pointed out.
"Well, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I got adopted and you didn't, and I feel… I don't know, guilty about it. Especially since you've mentioned having bad fosters…"
I closed her suitcase and turned to face her, leaning most of my weight on the counter since I still couldn't stand for very long on my own. "Anna, you know that's not your fault. I was dissociative and anxious and fearful. It's not your fault. You can love your family and mention them and be happy about them. I've made peace with that part of my past. It's all over."
"You won't get uncomfortable?"
"I mean, knowing me, I probably will, just not so much for the reasons you're thinking," I chuckled. It was kind of a lie. I knew that it likely would get to me, just a little bit. Being around an actual family for the first time since I was eight years old would be overwhelming, but just like every time before, I put aside my own worries and fears for the sake of my sister.
A small yawn overtook me then, and since I had been standing for a while, I went back to the inflatable mattress and sat down on it. There was a very good chance I'd fall asleep in the car, but I tried to pretend I was stubborn enough to avoid it.
My suitcase and bag were already packed and by the door, so we were just waiting on Miss Procrastination in order to get going. She was checking every nook and cranny in the apartment.
"I always end up leaving something behind, you know," she was saying. "I shouldn't even be that worried about it, since we're going to my adopted parents' house, and they'll have anything I somehow end up forgetting, but I really hate that feeling where you, like, realized you forgot something. I'm eighteen years old – I should be put-together enough to remember everything I need for a trip, shouldn't I?"
"There's a fatal flaw to your reasoning. Adults are no more put-together than anyone else. You just learn to be very good at hiding it. That being said, are you ready yet, Your Highness?"
She shook her head with a grin. "Yes, Your Majesty. What about you? Got your meds? Pillow? Hairbrush, toothbrush? Makeup? Anything else you could –"
"Anna," I interrupted her in an exasperated tone. "You're doing it again." 'It' being treating me like a child.
I understood, she wanted to make sure I was alright or whatever, but we'd really been trying to work on her not hovering.
"Sorry," she squeaked, her cheeks reddening.
I smiled to let her know that I wasn't upset about it. When she brought her bags with her towards the door, I finally stood back up. Anna took my bag, and in consideration for my promise to not strain myself a full week after getting shot, I allowed it, but made sure I at least carried my suitcase and opened the door for her to haul everything else.
When all of our luggage was packed into the backseat and trunk of her car, we took up our spots in the front. I leaned across the center console to grin at her before we left. "Ready?" I asked.
She let out a small giggle and tapped my nose. "I'm only as ready as you are."
"That's not fair," I argued, but I was chuckling as I settled back in my seat. To relieve any pressure on my chest which could become uncomfortable after two hours of driving, I tilted the seat back a little and let out a small sigh.
I didn't know what the following week would bring… but I told myself that I was ready for whatever would come my way, as long as I had my baby sister by my side.
A/N: Thanks for reading, and please leave a review below! You know you want to ;)
