Uber important A/N

Hey, guys! So I've spent the last week or so going back through all of the previous chapters, editing them and improving them a crap ton. I think this story is so much better written than it was, and I'm a lot happier with it now, so maybe go back to the beginning and give it another read, yeah?

*Puppy dog eyes*

Please? It's so worth it, I swear.

As always, read and review!

(Reviews are my lifeline… They make me update faster…hint hint, nudge nudge, wink wink.)

xXxXx

Anna's POV

I drug a grumbling Kristoff out of the movie theatre, receiving several glares from our fellow movie goers on the way out of the door.

I smiled sheepishly at them before I was finally able to push Kristoff out of the building.

"Can you seriously not go the entire length of one movie before getting us kicked out?" I sighed.

Kristoff had managed to get shushed a record breaking seven times during the movie we were watching before someone got up and complained to one of the managers. We had been promptly told that we would need to exit the theatre or be escorted out by security. I mean seriously though? Extreme much?

"It's not my fault that movie was terrible!" Kristoff said loudly, following the exclamation with exaggerated hand gestures. "They completely butchered the acting, there was literally no plot, and that giant snow monster was completely uncalled for!"

I shushed him gently, "Kristoff, we didn't even get to see the last half an hour of the movie! Maybe it would have made more sense."

"Ugh, whatever. There's no way I'd ever watch that movie again, end or no end."

I rolled my eyes at him, "They're probably never going to let us in there again. Next time we hang out, how about we try doing something else? Something less… disruptive," I quipped.

Kristoff didn't reply in favor of picking at his fingernails and mumbling under his breath.

"Let's just go-"I broke off as Kristoff's phone vibrated.

He shot me an apologetic look before taking it out and checking his messages. He grimaced after a minute.

"Crap, I forgot that I told my mom I'd take my sister to the mall. I've uh, got to go."

I gave him a small smile, understanding, "It's cool, Kristoff. We can hang out some other time."

"Sorry," He paused. "Movies again?"

I raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled. "We'll see. Now take me home."

Kristoff saluted. "Ma'am, yes ma'am."

I giggled and rolled my eyes again as we walked toward the parking lot.

xXxXx

Elsa's POV

A shiver ran through my body that had nothing to do with the temperature as I turned around to face my father.

A nasty sneer spread across his lips. He was wearing a sweat stained muscle shirt, his beer belly extending past the waistband of his dirty pajama pants. I wasn't surprised though; pigs always looked the part didn't they?

He crossed the room from his place in the hallway leading to his bedroom and stumbled over to the couch, grabbing a half filled beer bottle from the table before plopping down.

Apparently my not-so-subtle apprehension filled gaze was seen easily as an unpleasant leer spread the features of his face.

"What?" I finally snapped at him, after several moments of silence, impatience and anger mounting. "You're not going to throw that bottle at me too?"

My father barked out a spout of sharp laughter. "Don't flatter yourself. This here bottle's worth ten of you."

I bit the inside of my cheek and willed the remark to pass through my mind with minimal impact.

"But then again, most things are worth more than you, aren't they?"

I decided not to respond verbally, in favor of leveling the expressions from my face in a much practiced manner. Show no emotion. Don't give him the satisfaction. Conceal, don't feel. Don't let it show.

"Say something why don't you? Isn't this exactly what you wanted when you came back? One last chance to 'put me in my place' as it were?" He drawled, grinning nastily and I dropped my gaze to the floor.

Upon my continued silence, cackle-like laughter broke free from my father's lips. "And see? Even now when you have the chance to speak without reprimanding, you continue to be a little bitch like that red haired dyke-"

My emotionless façade snapped in an instant.

"What did I ever do to you?" I demanded, anger warping through me as I, against my better judgment, took a step forward.

The sadistically delighted aura surrounding my father dropped immediately as he growled out, "You know exactly what you did."

I did. But he was wrong.

"That car crash was not my fault and you know it."

"Liar," He leaned forward from his spot on the couch and all but threw the half empty bottle onto the coffee table, upending it and causing the contents to slop onto the carpet.

I flinched ever so slightly at the movement. This was generally the part where I started second guessing myself, questioning my defense before succumbing to his lies and flooding myself with the ever looming guilt of my mother's death.

I clenched my eyes shut.

No. Not this time.

"You're wrong," I started, snapping my eyes open and glaring steadily at my father, who raised his eyebrows. "It's not my fault. And it's not your fault either," I discreetly sucked in a shaky breath, head pounding with anxiety. "Sometimes things just happen that you have no control over. Sometimes there's nothing you can do about it but deal with it. But this," I gestured towards him, the filthy room, and surrounding beer bottles, "This is not how you deal with it. You don't push it away and blame a third party because you think it'll bring you closure. Because it's not really closure.

"You never accepted mom's death, you never let it go. And it's only hurting you," I held a hand up as my father snapped his mouth open and spoke hurriedly over his feeble retort. "You can deny it. You can tell yourself that I'm wrong until you're blue in the face. But," I paused, shuffling the box in my arms and withdrawing the photo, holding it up for my father to see, "The man I see in this picture is not the man I see now. Not even close."

My voice cracked slightly and I stopped to clear my throat. I placed a finger in front of the figure of my mother in the picture so that only the younger versions of my father and I were visible.

"This," I said, pointing at the smiling duo in the photo, "Should never have become this." A tear drop spilled over my eye as I gestured between the man on the couch and myself. "Even without her here."

I place the picture back in my box before returning my now tear-free gaze back to my father.

He sat motionless on the couch, staring dumbfounded at me. It might have been the lingering triumph reining over me, but I could have sworn that a tear or two had tracked down his cheeks.

The silence swirled around us, neither of us moving or speaking until my father finally dropped his gaze to the filth stained floor, shielding his expression.

"You're right," He murmured.

I lifted my chin the slightest bit higher, knowing that was the closest thing to an apology that I was ever going to get.

Turning and yanking the door open, I stepped through and continued on through the apartment complex, not looking back.

I didn't miss the quiet sob that broke through the gap in the door as gravity pulled it shut behind me.