A/N:Phew, I think this was the hardest chapter to write yet.

Please, take your time, enjoy it. I can't wait to see your thoughts on it, and thank you so much for reading! :)

"Mom- MOM!" Her voice was hoarse, dry. It hurt to scream, but she did anyway, the chafing in her throat flaring as she called out one last "NO!"

Anna jolted upright, gasping, pleading for air. It was like a vacuum was sucking the precious breath right from her lungs, leaving her to heave through her raw vocal cords. She blinked, eyes tracing the dark room surrounding her.

Shadows. Heavy shadows. Deep shadows. Where was she? Where was mom!?

Gone. Hiding in the shadows? In her coffin. Of course.

No. Night. It was night.

Wait.

Shouldn't the ceiling be higher? Where were the pews?

This wasn't the funeral home.

Her brows furrowed, panic beginning to fade. The usually familiar walls and décor; the green sheets, they felt out of place. Anna took a deep breath, digging her nails into the damp sheets below her until her fingers blanched white.

My room. This is my room.

Anna sighed, a familiar heaviness and tightness in her chest wringing tears out of her body like a wet rag. It was still hard to breath, her lungs uncooperative, making her next inhale broken, weak. She reached over to her phone, hands glistening in her cold sweat. The numbers were blurry with her adjusting eyes, but it was late. Extra late. Nightmare late.

She was about to press the call icon when her heart dropped. Dejected, she put her phone down.

No Elsa right now, either. Not since last month.

Anna sniffled and curled onto her side. She hugged her knees tightly to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut so forcefully that it almost looked like sunrise behind her lids. She choked on her sobs. What was it about nights that made her feel so, utterly alone?

Needless to say, sleep didn't come again easily that night.

The next day, after she'd kept mostly to herself at school, is when she received a call from Elsa.

"Hey, Elsa."

"Hey, Anna." A pause. "Can, um, can you come over? To- to talk?"

"Oh-ho so now you want to talk. In the dead of night." There was a caustic bite rife in her tenor. "Finally convenient for you, huh? Never mind when I wanted- needed to talk." Elsa winced.

"Anna, I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't mean- we- we don't have to talk now, we can wait until you're able, I- I just-"

"I'm sorry," the redhead's voice was considerably softer now. Almost regretful. "That was uncalled for. I just... I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm sorry."

"Anna, are you- are you crying?" The words were hesitant.

"Every night," came the eerily hollow laugh. Anna's sarcasm, it seemed, could be as much of a coping mechanism as a tool for fun. Elsa's heart stung at the words. It felt… awful.

"God Anna, I'm- I'm so-"

"Don't." A sigh over the phone. Elsa could practically hear her partner running her digits through bangs that were undoubtedly messy by now. "Just- I'll um, I'll be over soon, okay?"

Elsa nodded, despite the tightness in her stomach. "Okay. And Anna?"

"Hm?" came the joyless hum.

"Thank you."

"Yeah."

That was all Elsa got before the call was cut.

"You look good," Anna said, testing the waters somewhat. She sat uncomfortably at the foot of Elsa's bed, just about as far as she could be sitting away from Elsa, given that they were perched on the side of her bed like birds on a power line. They were alone, in the elder's room, and until Anna had piped up, it'd been so quiet that they could almost hear a clock ticking- and Elsa didn't even have an analog clock.

The door was shut, and Anna wondered if that was because Elsa expected this conversation to become loud, or if it simply assuaged her anxiety, gave her a sense of privacy with which to finagle these personal issues. Not even Olaf was in the room.

It was off-putting, how heavy the air between them seemed to weigh on Anna's shoulders, the tenseness of the void following her complement now clenching coldly at her heart and anxious stomach. She didn't realize it, but she was, indeed, holding her breath.

Elsa sat, face hung low, shoulders slumped, looking as small as possible. She fiddled idly with her thumbs upon her lap, focus never wavering from the restless fidgeting. Her foot tapped, and she appeared more pale than usual. Which was really saying something.

Even then, however, she was still radiant. A moon-like glow emanated from her in the meager lighting that the night provided. Anna actually did mean what she'd said. Yes, Elsa had looked better, but she still looked good. At least, not starving, not like she was dying. Maybe just dying inside. Anna frowned.

"Thanks, um," the elder looked up to briefly meet the other's gaze. Dull was the word that came to mind when she saw the look in her eyes. "Anna, I'm- I don't- I'm just-"

"Don't say you're sorry," Anna interjected, lightly sighing afterwards. "I know. I know you're sorry. I know you didn't mean to hurt me, but you- but Elsa, you did," her words were weak, strained, conveying exactly how difficult they really were to produce. To verbalize such a deep wound.

"Yeah," Elsa's eyes went downcast as she recalled her conversation with Belle that afternoon. "I- I was… selfish," she breathed, regret hanging thickly upon her tongue.

Anna pursed her lips. "Yeah, you were." That came out a little harsher than she meant. So, she scooted a foot or so closer, fully aware that she was still leaving enough physical distance between them to mirror their recent emotional distance. But it was smaller, at least. That had to mean something. She turned to face Elsa completely, and in a softer tone along with the help of lacing her own fingers together in her lap, explained. "Elsa, I know you're scared to talk about- about Corona." Anna felt a brief chill run down her own spine. "Believe me, I do," she insisted, patting her hand over her heart. She waited until she caught a glimpse of Elsa's pupils before driving her point home. "But I needed to talk about it, because I'm scared of it, too."

Elsa recoiled. But luckily, she didn't quite shut down. "I just… no matter what I do, I'll- I'll-"

"No matter what you do, you'll have me." The younger reached out and placed a warm, timid hand over a petrified and cool one. The elder stiffened at the contact, Anna noted, but did not pull away. Instead, her deep, stormy ocean blue eyes peered down at the newfound connection. Anna knew not the line that was swimming in the elder's mouth. She didn't know about Elsa's writing, or what she was thinking. But she peered in to those burdened eyes, gleaning a small glimpse of Elsa's thoughts as she did so.

Closing her eyes, the blonde felt them growing hot with tears. It seems she'd done a lot of crying that day. "One-thousand, three-hundred-and-nineteen," she whispered.

Anna blinked. More than once. "One-thousand-three-hundred- and- Excuse me?"

"Miles. You asked," Elsa ghosted, not transitioning from her resigned thousand-yard stare. "A couple m-months ago."

Teal eyes went wide as saucers in realization. Holy Toledo that's- that's a lot of miles. That didn't matter though! There were phones; facetime; planes, trains, and automobiles! "Oh, Elsa," she exhaled, unsure if she should move her hand to the blonde's doleful shoulder. Anna's heart seemed to sink lower than it anatomically should. It hurt, like it was pulling itself just a little too far. Watchfully, the elder noted the dismay that flickered across a normally cheerful face; and the small, entirely anxious shivering of Anna's shoulders as they slumped.

"That's assuming your couch as the starting point, and the middle of campus as the destination."

She did that little thought nibble. Elsa would normally have found it endearing and adorable, but given the situation and that look in Anna's eyes- which were slowly glazing over- it really just made Elsa feel all sorts of filthy inside. Anna's eyebrows were creased together, tears niggling from their ducts when she met Elsa's eyes. Puppydog face. That's what it was. "Ain't no mountain high enough?"

Elsa coughed out a strained laugh, but it turned into a gentle sob. "Everything I've done recently- every scenario I keep running through my head, I- I- I don't know what to do!" Elsa buried her face in her hands. As if that would hide her from reality.

Anna took a moment to process this. She started hopefully talking. "I- I don't know either. But- but do we have to? We- we can just figure it out as we go! When it gets rough, we just- just do the next right thing. For us." But Elsa only looked up at her, brows drooping helplessly out, forehead creased in bereft worry. The red marks from where she'd buried her face in her palms moments prior began to fade, giving way to her familiar yet scarce freckles. But the lines of worry plastered on her visage only grew. So, Anna doubled down. "You're just a worry wart," she teased, boldly- given their situation- booping the elder on the button of her pink nose.

Elsa only swatted it away, like an annoying fly. Although she didn't so much look bothered by the nose-bop, but by the whole situation, it still sorta hurt deep down. Elsa rejecting her teasing, that is. "Anna," she pleaded.

"Elsa," she began oh so gently, voice as fragile as the wings of a butterfly. Changing tact, she began to rub her thumb along the ridge of cool knuckles. Elsa responded in kind, body leaning slightly forward, and Anna felt a warmth spread with goosebumps to lace her body. in that precious, still moment, an audible breath was heard. "We know it's coming; we don't have to go in blind. We can- we can make a plan."

For a moment, when Elsa withdrew her hand, Anna was petrified that history would repeat itself. But the elder did not run. Instead, she leaned over, stretching to retrieve a specific little notebook from its peaceful resting place on her bedside table. She held it out to the younger, bowing her head as if kneeling to a reveille. She was shaking, which was especially evident when she spoke. "I- I don't know how to say what- what I want to say."

Looking carefully at the offering, Anna worried at the corner of her lip. She recognized the book readily. Before her, in the naked stillness of the air, the vulnerable space between them, was Elsa's heart. Anna knew what was in that book. She also knew that no one, not a single soul, had ever so much as glimpsed within its secretive covers. A composition of Elsa's deepest fears, most complex thoughts and emotions. A veritable window into the depths of Elsa's soul.

And there it was. For her.

Anna.

It was, as a matter of fact, Anna's turn to shake, her hand wavering as she cautiously took it. All the while, she watched like a hawk for any signs that Elsa changed her mind. "For- for me? Are you- are you sure?"

Just a slight nod. That's all she got. Anna pursed her lips now, subconsciously holding the item to her heart, and thus missing the obvious symbolism in that action. Elsa's heart to hers.

The blonde whispered, gaze averting and hand clambering to the comfort of her braid, melting Anna's heart only a little. Okay, more than a little. A lot. Whatever, it didn't matter. Well, okay, it did. But it wasn't relevant. "You can- you can start from the beginning, if you want."

"Is that where you want me to start?"

Elsa only shrugged, and Anna surmised that that was, indeed, where she wanted her to start.

So, she did, and Elsa watched as her face swam through every emotion on the human spectrum. A faint blush, adoration accompanying. A soft "Awe," and the loosening of eyebrows. A happy hum, despite their somber months, and a hug of the journal. Concern, regret. An unsure glance at the blonde, eyes dark and remorseful. The faltering whisper of "I'm so sorry it took me so long to realize," so faded that Elsa wasn't entirely sure that she'd actually heard it.

But eventually, Anna flipped to the last page. Her face grew- grew- Christ Elsa didn't know if she could bare to look at it! "Oh- oh Elsa!" She gasped, a tear dribbling from her wide eyes down the cherubic curve of her freckled cheek. "This- all-" she gasped, clutching the book to her chest once more, but this time not releasing it. "You- trying to protect me?"

Elsa fidgeted in her seat, hugging on to herself. She looked like she felt cold. She probably did feel cold. Anna didn't want her to feel cold, but she gave her space for the moment. Until the elder's voice finally sounded. Its tone seemed to indicate just how small they truly were, isolated specs in the grand cosmos on this long night. "Isn't- wouldn't it be… be better f-for- to hurt you- each other less now, than more later?" She looked up, and Anna knew she was putting on a façade of strength, because a fresh tear rolled off the tip of her chin.

Fear of the unknown is one of the most common human fears. That's probably why the next few minutes, during which the blonde was met with only silence from Anna, felt like they dragged painfully out for half the night. She could hear her heartbeat, hear her own breath. She could hear the rumble of the night's quietude- which, in Arendelle, was a rather loud and persistent chorus of insects.

She could feel the uncertainty gripping her heart, the weight crushing her stomach. Suddenly, her seat wasn't so comfortable. Serpentine fear rose like a poison flower, snake-like roots growing strong in her veins.

But Anna finally spoke, and Elsa found that it felt no better than the silence at first.

"I still have nightmares."

"Huh?"

Anna's words were choppy. Desperate, but subdued. "About my parents. I wake up screaming, crying out for them! I- I don't think I'll ever stop. Missing them, that is. But I wouldn't trade those short years- those precious few memories I have with them for anything!" She looked up, gaze piercing with conviction as she sobbed the next words. Trails of fallen tears told a painful story down her cheeks. "If I had the choice, I would love them and lose them. All. Over. Again."

She waited, but Elsa made no answer. Anna clenched her jaw. "So, even if we- if the distance… if we can't do it…" She trailed off, looking at Elsa in a mixture of commitment, affection, and downright hurt to convey her meaning.

And it was her turn to feel the silence of the night. Except that sob that Elsa choked down. "Anna, I…"

"I know," Anna rested her hand heavily on Elsa's shoulder. "You can't- we can't know that you'll always be there." She let out a sigh, so small, it came only from her nose. Meeting the elder's eyes meekly and soothing at the fabric of her shirt with her thumb, she croaked. "But- but I want you to be. Elsa, you-" deep breath- "you make them easier. You make my- my fears go away. You make me safe. You- you make me happy." She gestured her free hand between them. "So, whatever has been happening to this, to us, Elsa it's- it's been hurting me way more than a few miles ever could."

Elsa looked down. Shame, like the blanket of the bottomless, gloomy darkness outside, hung upon her burdened body.

"And I-" Anna keep going, bending down to meet her girlfriend's gaze and holding each of her shoulders steady now. "I want to be there to make your fears go away, too. I want to be there to make you safe- to make you happy. No matter what."

Elsa looked at her, the dams of her eyes welling, becoming overwhelmed, postulating a flood. She sniffled, and when she swallowed, it appeared to be physically painful around the desperation in her suffocating throat. Then, she leapt forward, colliding sloppily into the redhead's always welcoming, perfectly forgiving arms.

"Oh God, Anna! I- Anna I- I'm so sorry! I didn't mean- I was- Anna I was so- so scared!" Elsa sniffed, she cried, she clung; as she wailed. "I was so scared of- of hurting you- I- Anna, I-"

"Shh, shh," the redhead comforted, petting Elsa's hair and allowing her gentle caress to drip soothingly down her lithe back. "I know Elsa, I know. It's okay." She continued to whisper sweet nothings as Elsa let it out into her shoulder, digging into the crook of her neck like a frightened toddler. Desperate, gasping, her breaths sounded strained. And though Anna hated every second of it, she was thankful that she could be there for it.

Choking, gagging. Anna felt the room spinning, finding comfort in the warmth of Elsa's cheek just below hers. But she stayed her course, for Elsa. A rock for the weathered storm, for Elsa had been hurting just as much for just as long.

And although it was a long while of hushes and comforts, she did calm down, eventually. Elsa's body still twitched with a sob here and there, but her eyes were red and dry, while her cheeks wet. Proof the tears had already fallen. Fingers no longer drilled into the blades of Anna's shoulders. "Just promise me," Anna said, her own tears audible in the breaking of her voice, "that you'll never shut me out like that again."

Elsa nodded weakly, and Anna felt a wash of relief. She smirked, opting to add levity to their situation. "You stinker."

She felt the laugh coughed up- almost like water from a nearly drowned person- by the elder against her chest and smiled. Anna playfully bopped Elsa's nose with her finger again, receiving a warmer, much giggly-er reaction this time. That was a word, right? Didn't matter. It was enough of a word for Anna. Because that laugh, that smile, that rosy blush, that was all she wanted to see after their trying night.

"I remember that day, you know," the younger added.

Elsa furrowed her brows. "What day?"

"Page one." Anna explained, feeling the tendrils of heat licking at her cheeks and ears. "The first day of school. When I gracefully barged into your class. I wasn't just embarrassed." She halted for a second, probably for dramatic effect, and tucked several stray auburn locks behind her ear. "I noticed you, too."

Elsa's pale face glowed a brilliant shade of absolute, pure red; redder than blood red. That red. Anna giggled.

She almost missed it when Elsa whispered "I- I love you, Anna."