A/N This chapter was surprisingly easy. I actually used more time with troubling what parts to keep than getting stuff written. This is actually the only chapter that I have removed fully written scene from. You'll get to see what kind of nightmare's have been troubling Elsa, though it was never meant to be secret, it just didn't really matter at the time. Otherwise this chapter is mostly about Elsa's feelings and troubles. Please, enjoy and let me know what you think!
The pain was insufferable. Hot tears were burning her bruising cheeks. She knew that if she could just reach that knife on her right, she could end her own suffering. Its blade was glistening in moonlight. Not because of the clean steel, but because of her own blood on it.
Elsa needed to reach it, but her hands were tied down. Fighting against the restrains hurt her, but not as much as staying still did. She needed to get that blade, she was running out of time. She concentrated all the energy she had left to her right arm, and surged it towards the knife with all her might. It broke the restrain.
Instead of reaching the knife, pain jolted in every inch of Elsa's being. She screamed on top of her lungs. The sobs chocked her. The only thing she could concentrate, was the throbbing pain threating to drive her insane. She couldn't even hear the door open, or someone rushing to her side. In her world, nothing else but that pain existed.
"Elsa! Elsa! What happened? Did you hurt your arm? Do you need me to call an ambulance? Elsa!"
Her arm! That's where the pain originated. She took a hold on her injured, limp arm, and again the pain jolted through her body. She tried her best to quell her sobbing and even her laboring breath. It was just pain from the rash movement of her injured arm, nothing else had been true. Expect it had, and Elsa knew it. Those dreams she saw, weren't just fractals of her imagination, they were her memories. Her memories were twisted in her nightmares to be never ending torture with no escape.
But she had escaped. Her reality was now in this very room. The only pain she felt, was the unfortunate injury she had suffered because of the biking accident. Sure it was intense pain, but nothing she couldn't survive. She was safe here. But why had the dream felt so real then? Why didn't she feel safe?
"Elsa, please! Tell me what to do? How can I help you? Do you need a doctor?" Kristoff's voice was desperate, but he was anchoring her into the reality, pulling her away from her nightmarish haze.
Elsa managed to shake her head. Then she broke into another fit of sobs. She was trying her best to manage her pain. Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show. Her old mantra came back to her. It always did in moments like this, when she completely lost her control. She tried her very best to not to feel the pain. She tried to distance herself away from it, it wasn't her pain at all, it wasn't even her body. It was an old trick she had learned in her childhood. Sometimes things got too much for her to handle, so she didn't handle it. She just left her body to be hurt and abused, but it couldn't touch her mind, her mind wasn't there.
Unfortunately, Kristoff's voice was still anchoring her. It was like a chain that was preventing her mind to leave her body. "Elsa, what happened? Please, tell me what to do."
"I'm fine," Elsa managed to croak through clenched teeth. "It's just my shoulder. I moved it in my sleep," she told between gasps of air.
"It's your nightmares, isn't it? They're back," Elsa casted him a shamed look that told him everything he needed to know. "You've have had them a while now, haven't you Elsa? Why didn't you tell me anything?"
"It's not a big deal. They're just dreams," Elsa downplayed. The pain was finally quelling down and she could stop sobbing brokenly. Her breath was still ragged, but she was positive she could soon gain her control back.
"No they're not. We both know that," Kristoff scolded her lie. "And this time it was bad enough that you hurt yourself. I know that you don't usually move in your sleep."
"It was Tickler." It was small sentence, but it told Kristoff everything. He didn't know a lot of the details of Elsa's past, he had been too young back when they had gone through all the legal procedures with Elsa. But Kristoff knew Tickler. It was one of the few names, though it was no name at all, Elsa had revealed to him.
Tickler was the one, Elsa feared the most. Elsa never told him specifically, what Tickler had done to her. But concerning what he knew about Elsa's past, it had to be something unimaginable terror for Elsa to dread him the most. Tickler was actually so out of conversations that Elsa had even refused to tell what had happened to him after the trials. When Kristoff had been old enough to talk about those things with their parents, Bulda had told that all the ones Elsa had made testimonial against, had either gone to jail or they had died before. But even she didn't know what happened to Tickler specifically, since Elsa refused to give any light in which one he might be. She couldn't even be sure, that he had ever been tried.
"Shh, Elsa," Kristoff hushed and took his trembling sister in his arms. He kissed top of her head softly and tried to mind her injured arm. "You're safe. You're safe here, I promise."
"I know," Elsa whispered with broken voice. The declaration didn't stop her from shaking like a leaf. She buried her head deeper into Kristoff's chest. Elsa felt so safe, surrounded by Kristoff bigger body. Kristoff was the only man who had ever made her feel safe, and she loved him for that.
"C'mon, Elsa. Let's fix that sling of yours," Kristoff said, and helped Elsa to sit up properly. Then he helped her to get her arm into the sling like it should be. It stung Elsa's tender shoulder and her throbbing wrist, but the pain wasn't unbearable anymore.
"Kristoff, what time is it?" Elsa asked softly.
"It's almost five. I don't think either of us is getting any sleep anymore," Kristoff smiled at her with small, lopsided smile. Elsa pursed her lips, corners tucking slightly upside, and shook her head cutely with agreement.
"Okay then, I'll help you to the shower, and then I'll make some coffee." Elsa stuck her tongue out a little to express her disgust. "And hot chocolate for you. You're such a child, Elsa," Kristoff teased. Elsa pouted at him, she humored him with her grumpy child act.
"Okay, kiddo, what clothes you wanna wear today?" Kristoff asked and opened her wardrobe. With Elsa's guidance, Kristoff chose a peach colored turtleneck and a dark, waist-high, knee length skirt with flower pattern. Kristoff thought turtleneck was bit much for warm summer day, but he knew how much Elsa hated to show skin, and who was he to tell his sister how to dress. He also picked her clean underwear, but without looking in the drawer. He gave Elsa her clothes, and then lifted her up.
Kristoff carried Elsa past the living room area, all the way to the bathroom. There he put Elsa on the shower seat they had gotten her from the hospital. He enfolded her leg cast with plastic wrap to prevent it from getting wet. Then he filled up a bucket to make it easier for Elsa to clean herself. He dropped the sponge in the bucket for her. Normally Kristoff would help Elsa out of her sling, but after the morning incident, he was afraid her shoulder was too sore for that.
The most awkward thing was left: undressing. Kristoff helped Elsa out of her Stitch jumpsuit. Neither of the siblings said anything, nor did they make any eye contact with each other. Both of them would have rather been anywhere else, but the job had to be done. Elsa detested being undressed in front of others. Honestly, she could barely stand her own naked skin when she was all alone. But seeing Elsa only in her underwear, wasn't a treat for her brother either. Elsa was really attractive young woman, and she had great body with beautiful, milky skin, but Kristoff had never been attracted to her. Elsa was his sister, and only his sister, he would rather never see her anywhere near naked.
Kristoff put Elsa's clothes on the sink near by the shower. Then he left Elsa alone in the bathroom to undress herself from the rest of her clothes and to clean herself.
Kristoff put Elsa down on the chair in front of a dinner table. It was small glass table with only two chairs. But lately, Elsa had wondered whether Kristoff would try to fit a third one. Elsa adjusted her position quietly, after Kristoff let her go. She hated that Kristoff carried her around the house, it was humiliating. She would've preferred rolling around with the wheelchair, but Kristoff barely let her use it. Elsa knew to keep her mouth shut, though. She would need Kristoff to help her on the wheelchair and push her around anyway. So it was for the best to keep her ungrateful thoughts to herself, and let Kristoff help her the way he saw fit.
Her pills were already on the table, like always. She counted them, like always. And when she came to that white little opiate, she hold it in her fingers. She wanted to crush it in her fist. If she could walk, she would get up and pour that whole stupid bottle to the drain, and never see those awful pills ever again. She was sure it all was its fault.
She didn't remember the dream anymore. While showering, she had managed to lock it back to its own tiny room inside her mind, where she held all the memories from Tickler. She had other small rooms too, for all the moments that were too painful for her to handle, but Tickler's room was the biggest. It held all of her memories from him. That stupid opiate was like a key to the locks in her mind, and it made her remember at night. This night it had opened Tickler's door, and that was the end, she would never put that pill in her mouth again. She pushed it as far as she could.
"Are you sure? I thought that your shoulder and wrist would be really sore this morning," Kristoff asked with concerned tone.
"It's fine," Elsa stated firmly.
"Okay, if you say so." Kristoff put down a cup of hot chocolate, a plate of unappealing fried egg, and an orange he had cut in pieces. "Here, I made you breakfast."
"Thank you," Elsa murmured softly and started to eat. She didn't complain about the taste. She had learnt that if people did nice things for her, she said 'thank you', and didn't look inside the mouth of a gift horse.
Kristoff sat down and started devouring his own breakfast. He had never known how much Elsa was doing around the house, until she couldn't do anything anymore. Elsa always made all the meals for them, cleaned the house, did the dishes, and did their laundry. Elsa had offered to keep doing what she could, but Kristoff had insisted that he would manage everything. He was starting to regret that choice. It didn't help any that everything had to be polished for Elsa. She didn't henpeck or anything, but if somewhere was a speck of dirt, Elsa started looking utterly miserable and apprehensive. He couldn't stand to see Elsa so distressed.
"These meds doesn't do a thing," Elsa suddenly broke the silence. She had her anxiety med in her hands, Kristoff noted when he lifted his head up to see what she was talking about. He was a little surprised that she still had the pill, usually she would have eaten it my now.
"What do you mean? They're your anti-anxiety medication," Kristoff explained in case Elsa didn't remember what the pill was.
Elsa halted her movements for a second. Irritation briefly flashed through her, and she had urge to snap at Kristoff, to remind him that she knew her own medication just fine. But Elsa knew she had to be a good girl, and not bite the hand that was feeding her. So she bit her own tongue instead and answered with an even tone: "Yes, I know that. But I don't think it's helping any. I'm having these nightmares and I feel anxious all the time."
Kristoff was a little taken back with Elsa's confession, she rarely admitted that she wasn't feeling well. "Of course they are helping, Elsa. You're just having a rough patch now. Two years ago you would've been jumping on the walls because of the stress you're now enduring. But if you think they're not helping enough, talk to Dr. Johaug about it the next time you see her."
"Do I still need to see her? Haven't you told mom that I don't need therapy anymore, like we agreed to?" Elsa groaned. She really wanted Bulda to stop wasting her money on Elsa's useless therapy sessions.
"I did, and she said what she always says: 'I'll stop paying for these sessions when Elsa is confident enough to confront me about it herself'. You know you should tell her that you don't need the therapy anymore yourself. Or then you could just stop going, if you hate it so much."
"Elsa sighed and pushed her half-eaten, cold egg away. She had completely lost her appetite. "You know I can't stop going if she's paying, that's just rude and wasteful. I really appreciate her effort on helping me, I just hate talking about my personal things with some doctor."
"You could just tell that to mom," Kristoff offered, like it was the world's simplest solution.
"I can't—I don't—I just can't," Elsa tried to explain her mind, but she couldn't. Kristoff couldn't possibly understand what it was for her. She just wasn't capable on disagreeing with her mother if she was face to face with her. Wasn't all children supposed to be submissive towards their parents? Why was Elsa's meekness treated as a disease, as a flaw in her code?
Elsa and Kristoff were watching cartoons on the couch, Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner to be specific. Elsa loved cartoons, they made her feel like the child she never got to be. Kristoff agreed to watch them because it humored his sweet sister. Plus it was kind of entertaining to watch a coyote to try to blow a road runner with TNT. And on the best days, he got to hear Elsa giggle childishly when something funny happened. She was such a child. Unfortunately, today wasn't one of those days.
A melodic knock on the door interrupted them. Elsa knew who it was, and so did Kristoff, since he almost ran to open the door. Anna was on the door, as she had been every morning for the past couple of days, waiting for Kristoff and Sven for a morning walk. Elsa used to hate to be forced for those walks, as she hated walking outside. Walking was so slow, and made it possible for her to be hyper aware of her surroundings. Elsa much preferred running or biking. But lately, she couldn't help but feel envious towards Anna. She wasn't sure if she was actually jealous, or if being afraid was a different thing.
She was terrified, to be honest. Anna was taking her big brother from her. Anna didn't know, how much Elsa needed Kristoff to function, and she was taking him. Kristoff didn't care if Elsa spent time outside, anymore. Kristoff was slowly losing his interest towards Elsa and her well-being, only Anna fitted in his world. Soon, he would realize, what a waste of space Elsa really was, and Elsa wasn't sure how to please Kristoff anymore. She couldn't even pull her own weight around the house. Kristoff wasn't sexually interested in her, and that was the only thing she had ever kept men's interest in her, before. Not that she was sure she could ever go down that road again. Anna was like a better version of Elsa, undamaged. Why would anyone ever choose the shadow over light?
"Good morning Elsa!" Anna cheerfully waved at Elsa. Unknowing of Elsa's bad blood against her. Why did Anna still smile warmly like a spring sun to her icy fortress? Trying to melt down her icy walls. Bulda had once told Elsa, that she should smile more because her smile light up the whole room. Well, Anna was just like that, and she wasn't prudent with her smiles.
"Good morning," Elsa muttered. She didn't ran to her own room when Anna came, anymore. But that didn't mean she had stopped being outwardly hostile. She tried to be as nice as she could, because that was what Kristoff wanted, but Elsa wasn't a friendly person. She guessed her nature was to be friendly, because she felt so guilty all the time, but she just couldn't be approachable. The walls she had built around her to keep her safe, were too thick for her to break, even if she wanted to.
Elsa feared Anna would supplant her. That Anna was going to devour everything Elsa was, and take her place. Elsa couldn't understand, why Anna made her feel like that. It was as if there was a strange connection between them. She felt strong pull towards the girl. It honestly scared her. Elsa had to push Anna away from her before she stole Elsa's life or even worse, made Elsa need her. Elsa couldn't have any more people to be depended for. She already was such a burden to her family, Anna didn't need her weight on her frail shoulders. Elsa knew that, but why it was so hard not to smile back to Anna, when she was looking at her like that?
"We're going now. If you need anything, call me," Kristoff quipped her and kissed her head for a farewell. Annoyance flashed again in her. She was an adult woman, she would survive an hour alone, in her own home, and she didn't need a babysitter. Elsa bit her cheek to punish herself for those thoughts. What was wrong with her, today?
"Yeah, sure. Have a nice walk you two," she dismissed them, like the blood inside of her wasn't boiling with jealousy. Elsa wasn't exactly sure, which one of the two she actually was jealous of. Well, that didn't matter. It was wrong, nevertheless. She was wrong.
"Are you courting her now?" Elsa broke the silence.
"Elsa, no one uses the term courting anymore. Where are you from, the Middle ages? It's dating, now," Kristoff sounded amused. Elsa could be strangely proper at times. She often used terms like 'may' and 'pardon', especially when she was upset. It made her sound weird when she was talking like that amongst family.
"Well, do you? Date her, I mean?" Elsa asked. She tried to sound more curious than jealous.
"I'm not sure. I think it's too soon for that. But I really like her, Elsa. I think we might have a change in a future," Kristoff confessed and glanced her. Only briefly, as he was concentrating on the rom-com they were watching. "Does it bother you?"
"I—wha—pardon me?" There it was, 'pardon'. "Of course it doesn't bother me. All I want, is for you to be happy," she would have been more convincing, if it wasn't for her high pitched and frantic tone. But she wished her words had been true, she wanted to be that kind of sister, that kind of person.
"I can see that something bothers you," Kristoff stated, matter-of-factly.
"It's all fine, everything is fine," Elsa muttered.
For some reason, she felt sob building up in her throat. Elsa didn't do crying, and she definitely wasn't going to cry over her brother's possible girlfriend. Why was she so weak and worthless? Kristoff would never stay with her, if he knew how greedy she was being, how she was jealous of the girl he was seeing. Elsa was disgusting, repulsive even. She owed everything to the Bjorgman's, and still she had audacity to feel entitled for Kristoff's attention. She was just stupid, stupid little girl who had overstayed her welcome. How did she have nerve to slow Kristoff down in his live? Why was she such a burden?
"Could you help me to my room, please? I could really do with some rest," Elsa asked quietly, she wasn't able to meet Kristoff's eyes. She was too ashamed of herself and her thoughts.
"Elsa, is everything fine?" Kristoff sounded worried.
"Yeah, sure. It's just that I didn't really sleep well. I'm really tired. I would like to go to my room now, please."
"Yeah, of course. I'll help you right away," Kristoff said and got up. He carried Elsa to her room and sat her down to her bed. "Is everything good now? You need something?"
"No, I'm fine. Thank you," Elsa murmured. She dismissed Kristoff by turning to her side, leaving her back to Kristoff.
When she heard the click of the closing door, she dived her picture from under her mattress. Then she took sir Jörgen Björgen in her arms and started tracing the picture. She had traced her mother's face so many times, that the picture had started to disintegrate from there. She couldn't help it. Whenever she was upset, instead of crying, she would just lay hours on her bed with her stuffed animal and the picture, trying to find some comfort from her mother.
Sir Jörgen Björgen and the picture were the only things she had gotten from her old house. She never went back there, but she had asked the detectives to bring her those. Sometimes Elsa just needed them to remind herself who she was. She would never be a Bjorgman, not truly, she would always be Elsa Weselton by heart. No matter how much she wished to change it. But still, she wasn't sure she had found out who Elsa Weselton really was.
"Oh mother, where do I go from here?" she whispered softly to the picture, despair evident in her voice.