A/N: Hi there. :) Just wanted to take a moment to thank you all for the faves and follows and also to those of you who left me such nice reviews, I get excited whenever I get the notifications, so... yeah. Thank you. I hope you guys like the chapter, there's not a whole lot going on, but it was needed for character development and I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. Though if I sit and read it again, I may change my mind. Hahaha. So, anyway... let me know what you thnk and please, enjoy. :)

Elsa had pretty much had to force her parents out of her room that night. They had been taking turns throughout the day, one staying with her while the other went to be with Anna and then, after about two hours, they'd swap. Her mother would come to relieve her father, they'd share a weary glance and what she assumed was a small verbal exchange before he left, and vice versa. Sometimes they would both stay together with her for a short while, but there wasn't a moment that they were both out of the room at the same time, leaving her alone long enough to really sit and think for a minute or two. That was probably their intent, she realized, but while she appreciated their concern, she was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed with everything.

The conversing in her journal had been helpful in calming her down a little, and she was glad they were telling her the truth about her ears and about what happened with Anna after they left, but it was a lot to take in all at once. And, despite the pain medication the physician had given her, her head still hurt some, although it did succeed in making her feel sleepy. Plus, her powers were still acting weird. She'd never had so much trouble with them before, nothing ever just happened when she wasn't trying. But now, the tips of her fingers were nearly frozen and the nails crusted with a thin layer of frost; her palms tickled as if the magic was dancing just under her skin, ready to burst forth whenever it wanted. And even though it hadn't taken the room long to defrost once Gerda and Kai found her and built up a huge fire in the fireplace (it was only a light coating that had needed to melt off) there was still a lingering chill in the air.

To top it all off, Elsa was feeling guilty that their babysitting was taking their attention from Anna. She'd assumed that Gerda must be sitting with her during the shift changes, so she wasn't alone either, but she still didn't like being the reason Anna couldn't have both of her parents there with her on such a traumatizing day… a day where she was recuperating from a near-death experience, caused by her very own sister.

It was all just getting to be too much, too fast. There was so much to take in and get used to, to make sense of and try to understand, all the while, feeling physically and emotionally drained. She could feel her anxiety building and she just wanted some time to herself to figure things out, without being fussed over or stared at.

Elsa put on a brave face, asked her parents if she they would tuck her in to bed and watched as they hesitantly left the room.

When she was finally alone, her thoughts immediately shifted to Anna. She thought about how they told her that they'd taken her to a place where trolls lived so that they could heal her with their magic. Elsa had never seen a troll before, she didn't even know that they really existed, but as a person who also held magical powers, she didn't even think to question it. The eldest troll – Pabbie, they said his name was – had to take the magic out of Anna's head; and to do that, he had to take out all of her memories that had to do with Elsa's powers.

Thinking about that had made her sad. Anna wouldn't remember any of the fun they'd had with her snow or her ice, which was a lot of how they spent their time together. Over the past couple months, Elsa had been teaching her to ice skate. Anna wasn't too steady yet, but they kept practicing because she loved it so much. And, one of their favorite things to do was building snowmen, they usually made one at least once a week, and they were usually always named Olaf.

Elsa's chest ached just thinking about it all, everything they'd done together that Anna would never remember, everything that they'd never do again. How much of their lives had been interwoven with her powers? How many memories were gone now, altered by a magic she didn't understand. Without those memories, the very things that strengthened their sisterly bond… how much of her would Anna have left to remember? Would she feel the same way about her as she did before? Would she still love her?

She had to see her, to find out just what her sister did think of her. To make sure they were still best friends.

Elsa threw back the covers and scooted to the edge of her bed. I have to tell her that I'm sorry, that I… I… She paused, frowned. No… She couldn't tell her anything. She couldn't even face her. Not now. Not like this.

Her parents agreed to her request to wait before telling Anna. She didn't want to upset the girl unnecessarily, especially if she couldn't validate their words by seeing Elsa for herself. Poor Anna wouldn't really understand without seeing her in person and that was something Elsa wasn't ready for.

Her eyes began to water. She didn't want to see Anna this way, to see her and only see her. Not talk to her, or hear her sweet giggles. She didn't want to see the sad pout on her little face when – after she asked one of her million questions, like she loved to do – she would have to stare at her like an idiot because she wouldn't be able to respond to her. Anna would probably think Elsa was trying to be mean to her or that she didn't want to play with her and that wasn't true at all. But how was a five year-old supposed to know the difference?

The edge of the blanket stiffened under her grasp, snowflake patterns multiplied rapidly until she pulled her hands away and scurried back to her pillows, her hands clasped to her chest as she eyed the remnants of the latest accident cautiously. It's better if I stay away from her for a while.

She pulled her knees up and hugged them close, tearing her gaze from the spot to look around the room, trying to find anything else to focus on that would not serve as a painful reminder of all that's happened. But that only made her feel worse. Anna was everywhere.

Anna's side, Anna's bed, Anna's toys… Anna, Anna, Anna.

After all, this was her room too, and though Mama and Papa were letting Anna sleep with them for now, eventually she'd want to come back into it. Elsa closed her eyes and shook her head in frustration. How is this going to work?

Why did this happen to me? To Anna? Why can't I be normal? Why couldn't I have ever just been normal?! If it wasn't for these stupid powers… Anger tightened the expression on her face as she stared down at her hands. They ruined everything! Tears streamed down her cheeks and fell into her hands where they quickly froze atop her pale skin. EVERYTHING! She slammed her fists onto the bed. First Anna. Now my ears! Her face puckered as she laid her palms over them. There was no rustling noise as skin brushed against skin. No internal amplification as she pressed. And no suction-type sounds as she pulled her hands away. Just… nothing.

I don't like this! Please! I want to go back to last night—I just want to do it over. I promise I won't hurt Anna again! I won't even play with her… Please?! I hate this! Elsa threw herself facedown into her pillow, soaking the silky case as she sobbed into it. I can't live this way forever; I just can't! I-I'd rather die. She wailed harder, kicking her feet into the mattress. I hate it! I hate it… I hate it. I HATE IT! She screamed into the pillow before yanking it from under her head, annoyed by the moisture that chilled against her face, and whipped it off to the side, unaware that it had collided with her bedside table, sending a vase of wildflowers crashing to the ground.

It's not fair! She wanted to scream it out as loud as she could, to let all of Arendelle know of her injustice. But sadly, no matter how loud she could manage, even if her cries had reverberated through the entire kingdom for every person to hear, the fact remained that for her there would be only silence. And no amount of kicking and screaming was going to change that.

But that didn't stop her from trying.

It'd been about an hour since Elsa made her parents leave. However, unbeknownst to her, they hadn't gone far. After the Queen settled Anna down for bedtime, she joined her husband in the hall outside of Elsa's room. Both royals slouched against the walls alongside the door, utterly exhausted after nearly two days with no sleep, but yet still not able to, nor wanting to be anywhere else other than right there for their daughter.

They had sensed her growing agitation as the evening had progressed, but after hours of corresponding, there wasn't much more they could have said to her to put her at ease… because there was nothing possible to be said that would make thing situation any better. They did assure her that they wouldn't tell Anna, not yet… not until she was ready; which seemed to calm her for a while, but it hadn't lasted long. She pushed the book away, shaking her head, not in the mood to write anymore, so they let her be when she walked off and climbed up onto her window seat. She sat for a while, absently staring out the window, twisting the fabric of her nightgown or wringing her hands. Whenever she stilled, her fingers would subconsciously find themselves at her ears, prodding and pulling until she realized what she was doing and quickly went back to her fidgeting. Eventually, she said that she was tired and let them tuck her into bed and smiled as they kissed her goodnight, but her mother could feel the waves of tension rolling off the girl and had been reluctant to leave her, but ultimately did so.

The hall was always quiet at this time of night, but there was something especially eerie about it now for the Queen, the silence more significant. It felt sad… heavy. Suffocating. If this is only a fraction of what she's feeling... she thought, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of the realization. The noiselessness made her feel sick and suddenly she was craving any sort of auditory stimulation she could get. The King eye's had slipped shut, was he sleeping? She wanted to wake him, to blurt out anything she could think of just to fill the void. No… if Elsa can't get away from it— She swallowed hard, but then forced herself to remain still, not to speak or even to breathe too heavy, trying to allow herself to experience even just a miniscule amount of what her daughter was going through. And yet, even then, there wasn't complete silence. She became hyper-aware of her own internal noises, the sound of her husband breathing, the clock chiming, the faraway voices that echoed softly from the kitchen. The hardest part, the part that hurt the most, was knowing that unlike with her little experiment, Elsa heard nothing and it would be that way for her for forever.

Forever. She could barely wrap her head around the idea, much less bear the thought of it.

"I wish it was me," the Queen said, breaking the near-quiet with a low whisper. The King blinked slowing, turning his head towards her, he offered her a hand that she readily accepted before continuing. "I-I feel so helpless. I just want to make this better for her… and there's nothing I can do." She wiped at her eyes with the heel of her free hand. "I never thought anything like this could ever happen. Her powers have always been beautiful…" she sniffed "we should have been more careful—kept a closer watch."

"There was no way we could have seen this coming." He scooted closer and wrapped his wife in his arms, where she instinctively settled against his shoulder. "You can't look to assign blame. Sometimes… sometimes, things just happen. It was an accident."

"Both times."

The King rested his chin on her head. "Yes, well…" he said thoughtfully, "now we—"

"Shh!" She snapped upright, turning her ear towards the door, right index finger coming to her lips.

Inside, they could hear their daughter's soft cries. It hadn't taken long before whimpers escalated to sobs, which turned to wails, which led to the gut-wrenching screaming. And a crash or some sort…

At that, the Queen was on her feet, ready to barge in, but he was there instantly, gently grabbing hold of her elbow, pulling her back against him. "No," the word broke as it left his lips. "Not yet."

She turned back to him in confusion, one hand still stretching towards the doorknob. "What? Wh-why? She could be hurt. I need to go to her, she needs—" She let her words trail off as her tear-filled eyes rose to meet his.

"She needs to grieve."

"Then she shouldn't be alone…"

"That's why she should be alone," he corrected.

"I…I don't understand."

"Life as she knows it has just changed; she's lost something precious that she'll never get back… She has every right to be angry." He held her face tenderly in his palms. "Give her time. She needs to process."

"But…" She glanced back to the door, "that could take…" Days? Months? YEARS?

He nodded sadly and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I know."

They stood there in the hall, trying to find comfort in their embrace as they were forced to wait out every agonizing second of the outburst that was happening on the other side of the door. Finally, the screams became less and less, intermittent between moans and hiccupped sobs before finally reducing to sniffles and then… Quiet. They waited another five minutes, just to be sure, before they slowly opened the door and peeked inside, not entirely expecting what they were about to find.

Snow. Ice. Broken glass. Wilting flowers. Things thrown about the room. Pages torn from the journal and ripped into tiny pieces and strewn about. And a crumpled little Elsa, passed out in the midst of it all.

They hurried over to her, inspecting her for injuries and sighing with relief when they found none. Her father lifted her off the floor and gently laid her back in her bed.

The Queen turned to him and rested her hands on his chest. "Go on." She stood on her toes, stretching up to kiss him. "I'm going to stay with her tonight."

"Okay." He hugged her tight and then held her hand as he helped her up to settle in beside their daughter. She snuggled Elsa close as he gently pulled the covers up to their elbows, giving them a last goodnight kiss on their foreheads. Then, the King snuffed out the lamps and pulled the door closed behind him.

Knowing that if Elsa were to wake, she would feel her mother's arms wrapped around her – and know that she was safe and that she was loved, no matter what – was the only thing that allowed the Queen to finally shut her eyes and drift off to sleep.