Sheesh, why is it so hard for me to write more than 4,000 words?
Anyway, tomorrow marks my last day of undergrad, and as of next Thursday at 11am when I hand in my last final, I will officially be a college graduate. Well, okay that part doesn't actually come until May, but the work's all done.
And yet I still can't find a job offering me more than minimum wage…
But you all don't clink on the link for this thing to read about my life, you want what comes afterwards (don't worry, I'm not offended!) so go on. Go get your angst.
Chapter Nineteen: Step into the Ring
Another week passes before I find myself back in Milo Thatch's office and in a waiting room all too familiar to me. I swear, some ghost or something has lingered from my first visit and is hovering over me now taunting, "Come back to screw up again? What are you going to fuck up this time?"
However, I simply grit my teeth and bare it, knowing why I'm here today is for a completely different reason. Today I'm not returning to feed more lies in order to—fail—in unearthing possibilities for helping someone who had vehemently denied help. Today, I am here as merely a friend. Moral support. Cheerleader. Whatever else goes along with those.
Still, I can't help the anxiety of what Milo's going to say or think when he comes out and finds me not only sitting next to, but holding Elsa's hand. Is he going to put two and two together? I mean, the guy has a doctorate so the most obvious answer is yes, but will he call me out on it? Or will he just shrug it off and after talking with Elsa and realizing no damage was done—that wasn't fixed, that is—and I'll be off the hook and not interrogated by the entire practice?
"Anna?" Elsa asks, and I notice only then how hard I've been staring at an elderly gentleman on the opposite end of the room. "Are you okay? You're tenser than I am."
I glance down to our conjoined hands and notice with a grimace that I have Elsa's in such a vice grip that the tips of her fingers are turning purple—well, okay, not really, but almost.
"Sorry!" I yelp, releasing her hand and watching her rub feeling back into it guiltily. "I didn't kill your hand, did I?"
She chuckles. "Come on; nothing can be as bad as my other, right?"
My heart stops as I stare at her, blinking.
"Elsa…" I mumble. "Do you…realize what you just said?"
Her smile evaporates to a frown. "Was that bad?"
"No!" I cry, turning to face her as fully as I can in these uncomfortable chairs. "I mean, if it didn't hurt you to say it, that's good! I mean, I'm no therapist, but to me, if you're able to make light out of something that used to bring you such pain, that's a step forward!"
"And that's why I'm here, right?" she asks me with a small smile.
"Right!"
"Do you do that?" she asks me with slight hesitancy. "Make light of your past?"
"I suppose it took a bit longer since I was a kid and more resilient so I never really thought about the psychological and physical effects until much later, but yeah, I do. Kristoff and I always joke about my missing kidney."
"Do you ever feel guilty afterwards?"
"Do you feel guilty now?"
She blushes as she looks at the ground. She responds in a whisper, "No."
I smile and take her hand—much softer this time, mind you. "Then don't beat yourself up for it," I tell her. "We all have different methods of coping. If making fun of our defects helps, then who is anyone else to judge? No harm, no foul, right?"
"I suppose," she mutters.
My smile grows as I bump her shoulder. "It'll come easier, trust me."
"Okay." She smiles back.
The door opens then and Milo steps out. "Elsa Arendelle?"
Elsa looks up, her smile vanishes, and her grip on my hand tightens. She stands, dragging me along as we approach the man.
"Good morning, Elsa," he smiles at her. Then he looks to me, and I see the glint of recognition in his eyes. Gulping, I remain quiet until he smiles at me as well. "Who is this?"
I feel all the tension leave my body. Bless you, Dr Thatch.
"This is Anna," she introduces. "She's my, uh…she's my friend. Good friend."
My stomach lurches pleasantly at her pause as well at the fact that she's blushing as she speaks and glances my way shyly. I can't fight my own blush as I avert my gaze. I'm sure our continuing to hold each other's hand is doing nothing to salvage the situation. I can just picture Milo's smug smile as he recalls my meeting with him. I know he recalls asking me if I loved Elsa—while at the time, he might not have been aware "him" was in fact a her—and now that I had come to terms with the fact that, yes, I did indeed love Elsa, I was afraid what would happen if I opened my mouth.
Needless to say, Elsa was still unaware of truly how deep my affections for her lay and I was not about to confess my unyielding love for her in the middle of a doctor's office.
When I hear Elsa answer a question I completely missed from Milo with "three months," I realize he must have asked her how long we've known each other. Immediately upon answering, a smile lights up his face.
"Elsa, that's great!" he exclaims. "Last time we met you were so closed off and reserved still, but look at you now!"
"I…" Elsa blushes again as she looks away from the both of us, though her grip remains tight on my hand. "I guess I just needed to find the right person."
My face reddens.
"Well, I'm happy for the both of you," he says, and I roll my eyes internally as my heart leaps to my throat—could he have sounded any more like a father giving his blessing to his daughter? "And especially proud of you, Elsa."
"Thanks," she mumbles.
"You ready to come back to my office so we can further catch up?" he asks next.
Elsa looks to me then and I see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes.
"Can…she come with me?" she asks. "I know I'm your patient and confidentiality and whatever, but if I want it, doesn't that make it okay? I… I n-need her with me."
I squeeze her hand, hoping to express my thanks and gratitude that she thinks so highly of me. She squeezes back.
Milo looks unsure for all of five seconds before he sighs.
"I suppose I don't see why not," he says. "I'll just need you to sign a consent form and Anna a confidentially form."
"I won't speak a word to anyone but Elsa, I swear," I pipe up finally.
My words seeming to satisfy him, he goes to the front desk and asks for the forms, returning to us and handing a clipboard to me.
"Sign at the bottom of each of those and we're good to go," he tells me.
I nod and take the clipboard from him, signing the confidentiality one where designated before handing it to Elsa. She signs the consent one and gives it back to Milo. Nodding once more, he tucks the board under him arm before opening the door and gesturing us through. Elsa takes my hand again as we follow him back to his office.
"How long has it been since you've seen him?" I whisper to her.
"Six months," she mumbles back. "I…wasn't very cooperative the last time we met; hell, most likely ever. This is my…fourth time seeing him?"
"But I'm changing that?" I ask with a smile, although the question is actually serious in nature. I keep worrying that Elsa's forcing herself into this simply to placate me, and I don't want that.
"You're changing everything," she tells me, and suddenly the hallway feels like the route to Hell with how hot it gets. "I know what you're thinking, Anna, and—while part of me is beginning to doubt myself with each step I take—I know I'm really ready. You're not pushing me into anything. I want this. I have for a long time."
"I just provided the push," I add.
"One that sent us tumbling down a steep slope into a hole we both thought we'd never be able to climb out of, but we managed."
I grin and can't help but squeeze her hand once more as we come to a stop in front of Milo who is at the door of his office, just smiling at us like he heard everything that was just said. I sure hope he didn't; that would be embarrassing.
Once the three of us are situated back in Milo's dark office—seriously, is it supposed to be more ambient like this or something?—Elsa and I await Milo's first prompt. Elsa is staring at the floor, I'm looking back and forth between Elsa and a picture on Milo's computer screen of him and some white-haired lady, and Milo is preparing his notepad for the session. I also notice Elsa still refuses to let my hand go, even now.
Not that I'm going say anything, but damn, she must really hate this place.
"I know I mentioned this in the waiting room," Milo finally begins, "but I want you to know, Elsa, how proud I am. Not only have you made a seemingly great friend in Anna, but I was also pleasantly surprised when you were the one who called me to ask to see me."
Elsa doesn't say anything to that and continues her staring contest with the floor. I glance to her and, unconsciously, my thumb begins to caress the back of her hand.
"You didn't say much over the phone," Milo continues to prod. "Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about today?"
When Elsa still doesn't answer after a minute, I glance her way to find her biting her lip and staring at her brace. I extract my hand from hers—which is hard, because she is still holding on to it like her life depends on it—and place it instead on her back where I start to work soothing circles across her shoulders.
"Tell him, Elsa," I prod gently. "He'll be happy."
I see Milo nod in my peripherals before Elsa sighs heavily and meets his eyes for the first time.
"I…" she whispers before clearing her throat. "I want to get a prosthetic."
Milo's eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline, but there's a big grin that splits his face at the same time.
"That's wonderful, Elsa!" he exclaims, to which Elsa quirks a smile. "What brought about this change of heart, if I may ask?"
"Anna…" she's whispering again, and I'm blushing because it sounds like she's just going to leave it at that, but she eventually continues. "I guess Anna…helped me realize that the way I've been living hasn't really been living, you know? I'm…sorry I bit your head off every time you recommended it to me before. I guess I… I just needed time."
"Nothing wrong with that," he says. "Death and injury take a toll on a person, and everyone copes differently. It may take a while to get to that point of bereavement where you finally feel like you can stand on your own two feet again."
I grin. Well I'll be damned; that's almost exactly what I've been telling her. Maybe I should think about pursuing a psychology degree!
When Elsa just nods before looking down at the floor again, Milo continues.
"Have you thought about the kind you want to pursue? Have you decided you want a prosthetic over a transplant?"
Elsa visibly shivers before she can hide it and quickly says, "No transplant. I can't… I couldn't deal with that."
"Why not?" Milo scribbles on his pad.
Elsa makes a face that looks like he just asked her to run down the street naked or something.
"Because it's someone else's arm!" she cries. "A dead person's! I already wake up each morning having to stare at a fucking stump; and I think I'd take that over waking up to some dead guy's arm I'm supposed to pretend is the one I lost! And that's saying something."
I squeeze Elsa's shoulder as she quiets down, turning to grasp her hand with my other.
"Hey, Elsa, it's okay," I hush. "He was just asking."
"I… I know," Elsa hiccups. "I just… That thought terrifies me more than a simple prosthetic." Looking to Milo, she mumbles, "Sorry I shouted."
Not too surprisingly, Milo just smiles gently at her. "Not a problem, Elsa. I'd rather have you show emotion of any kind versus keeping it all inside."
Elsa nods and looks to me. I beam. "You're doing great."
She smiles.
"So, no transplant," Milo restates, returning to his note taking. "What kind of prosthetic were you thinking of? Have you done any research?"
Elsa tells him about my coming to her house a few days ago to attempt the conversation of options once more. I told her of the webpage I found about the Columbia University students and their trial, and that I thought it'd be perfect for her because of the sleeve that wouldn't allow anyone to know any different. She hadn't said much that night, simply nodded along to my explanation and saying she'd think about it when I left. Apparently, she must have spent all night and the entire morning thinking because it wasn't two the following afternoon when she called me saying she'd come to a decision. Then she called Milo to make an appointment; make sure what steps to take from here.
"So is there…anything I should do before I d-do this?" Elsa asks once she's finished explaining.
"I suppose I only have one recommendation," Milo begins, leaning forward a bit, "and it's the same one I made before."
"The group thing?" Elsa asks quietly, and I can almost see the hesitancy on her face.
Milo nods. "I think it would be good regardless of what you do, but especially if you want to make the journey of acquiring a prosthetic and participating in a clinical trial. It would be immensely beneficial. I know you have Anna, but it will do you good to surround yourself with others in your situation; others who have dealt with the same kind of loss."
"But she has…experienced the same kind of loss," Elsa replies, looking to me briefly.
"I haven't lost a limb though, Elsa," I tell her. "As much as I'll try anyway, I can't help you like you need to be helped in that regard."
"But I don't want people to know!" she shouts, becoming agitated again. "I mean, the media already has caught wind of me, what will they do when they learn I'm in therapy?" Her eyes widen and I see all color leave her face. "They're going to find out, aren't they? Everything I've built up in the past year is going to crumble down."
"But you want that, Elsa," I remind her. "You told me so, remember? That's why we've become such good friends; it's why you visited your parents for the first time in a year; it's why you went out on a date with me; it's why you called me the other day and said you wanted to do the trial. You want the walls to come down."
"You can't let that worry you, Elsa," Milo adds. "I know it's a scary thought, but the truth will come out eventually; whether you reveal the truth yourself or the media comes up with speculation is up to you. You know people in this city adore you, Elsa; they'll understand."
"I just…" she trails off.
"I honestly just can't advise going in to this trial without first talking to others," Milo presses. "It will teach you what's coming up while you're in the process of getting the prosthetic, what to expect in rehab, the psychological effects of it, and how to cope with the change. I won't lie, Elsa; getting a prosthetic can be just as much of a challenge as a transplant. You'll need the support. More support than just Anna can give."
"Can she… Can she c-come with m-me?" Elsa asks next.
Milo smiles somberly. "That's up to the group," he replies. "But Elsa, you need to learn to support yourself. You can't rely on someone else to pull you through the difficult times."
"But she promised she would help me!"
I turn to face Elsa, and squeeze her hand to comfort her. "I will," I tell her with all the conviction I can muster. "I'm not going anywhere, Elsa, and you know that. But Milo is right; as much as you know I'd love to, I can't be with you twenty-four-seven."
Elsa's still silent for a bit and I feel my stomach lurch because for the first time this afternoon, I can't tell what's she thinking or feeling. Her eyes are glossed over, a hardened look darkening those sapphire irises, her lips set in a firm line. When she blinks, a lone crystal tear leaks from her eye. Lovingly, I reach out to wipe it away.
Elsa breaks then. Emitting a strangled sob, she has me in a hug, shaking and heaving. I look to Milo to see him looking pensive, but then he looks to me and flashes a smile.
She'll be okay, he mouths.
Nodding, I resume rubbing her back, tightening my hold around her. Not caring that Milo is right beside us, I turn to plant soft caresses of kisses upon her damp cheek, quietly hushing her and whispering that's she's okay; everything's going to be okay.
I can only hope I'm right. For Elsa's sake.
XxXxX
After we left Milo's office, I took Elsa back to my place to shake things up—and also to start repaying her for all the time I've spent at her place—knowing she wouldn't protest after she passed out on my shoulder on the subway. I couldn't keep the dopey grin off my face the entire ride. I regrettably had to wake her up when we reached my stop as I knew couldn't carry her all the way back to my place. Forget all the working out I do, carrying a person four blocks is just awkward never mind difficult. Plus, it wouldn't help in the Don't Let Elsa Be Noticed department. Oh yeah, hey, don't mind me; just this random nobody carrying a sleeping Elsa Arendelle down the streets of New York City, no biggie.
Damn, I think, now back at my place and lounging on my couch as Elsa sleeps in my bed. Even I'm drained from the session, and I wasn't even the one receiving therapy. I can only imagine how Elsa feels.
No wonder she hates the place so much. I didn't even cry like she did and I still feel completely drained emotionally.
Later that night, our roles reverse when I crawl into my bed beside Elsa, who—the poor thing—is still sleeping. After situating myself under the covers, she shifts beside me.
"Anna?" she calls quietly, surely disoriented.
"I'm here," I reply, running a hand through her braid.
She turns over so we're facing each other, a pair of matching smiles mirroring each other.
"Hi," she whispers.
"Hi," I echo just as softly.
"I'm at your place, aren't I?"
I smile, but look down at the sheets between us, a bit embarrassed. "I know it's not as glamourous as yours, and this bed is probably like a cot compared to your bed but…"
She huddles closer to me and tucks her head beneath my chin.
"It's perfect, Anna."
"You're still tired," I tell her, teasing her a bit. "Wait until morning when the sun hits the walls just right and you can see the off-white color in all its ugly glory."
She giggles, and I laugh as well, the breath from her expel tickling the skin of my neck.
"What if off-white is my favorite color?"
I press my nose into her hair to hide the smile that's about to crack open my face.
"Then you need to reevaluate your life choices."
We fall into such a fit of laughter that I'm surprised my upstairs neighbor isn't banging on the floor to shut us up. Once we finally settle down, we let the silence drift between us lazily, and I hum as I feel Elsa begin to trace patterns on my chest.
"Hey, Elsa?" I ask after a minute.
"Hm?" she responds.
"I know this is completely random, but…" I pause and push away from her gently. She's looking at me with a frown. "T-Thanksgiving is next week…and the tournament is the following Monday. I was going to fly home to visit my parents for the holidays and I was wondering if… I mean, you totally don't have to, I won't be offended or anything but… Would you… I mean, I'd like it if…"
"Anna," Elsa giggles, kissing my cheek to shut me up. "What is it?"
"Would you like to spend Thanksgiving with my family and me?" I blurt, just I did when I asked her out.
Her eyes widen a bit, no doubt surprised at the proposition. I have to admit, I kind of am as well. I meant it when I said it was random, because the idea literally just popped into my head before I vocalized it and I sure haven't mentioned anything to my parents about bringing a friend to Thanksgiving dinner, but it's not like we're a traditional family, so it shouldn't be a problem, unless mom's inviting other people over this year and…
Fuck, I even ramble in my head.
"O-Obviously I'd be back here before the tournament Monday, but…" I bite my lip for a moment. "I thought it'd be a nice change of pace? No training, no worries about what's to come, no need to keep a guard up around anyone; just a small holiday with me? Your favorite person ever?"
She laughs at the last part and I smile. Looking up to me, my heart picks up when I see a smile of her own.
"If your parents are okay with that, I'd love to, Anna."
I beam.
Time to call up mom and dad.
Oh, one last thing… THIS STORY HAS NOW BROKEN ALL PREVIOUS RECORDS OF MINE! It's the longest one out there chapter-wise (or at least it will be with the next update) AND word count-wise, has the most follows AND reviews, not to mention all the fan art. This is now my baby. I am proud of my baby.
And I'm proud my baby has such loyal fans like you all.
*Cue motherly cries*