protocol_03.00: keepalive
The voice doesn't sound right. Out of goddamned everything, that's the thing Anna's brain fixates on. That the one thing she thought she knew for certain about Elsa, the only thing she had for three years, and even that wasn't what she thought it was. Nothing's what she thought it was, she thinks as she looks at the wrecked form of her sister, and she doesn't know what to say.
The glow in Elsa's eyes dims further.
"'m...sorry...Anna," she rasps. Her eyes close.
That shocks Anna into movement. "Elsa," she whispers, hands hovering over her body, afraid to touch, afraid to hurt her further. "Elsa!"
Her sister doesn't respond.
Suddenly, she's tugging at the restraints, unlatching them here and there, moving away cables with the desperate need to get Elsa out of there.
She's so cold.
There's a tearing noise behind her, and when she turns, she catches Kristoff ripping open a foil package with his teeth. He shakes it out, and he holds out the emergency blanket while he tries to dig something else out of his pack. "Here," he says.
The silvery material is so much like metal that it hurts to wrap her in it, but she does. Her throat feels tight as she lifts Elsa's arms and legs, and she chokes down tears as her fingers brush against the skiz jacks running along her spine, on her wrists and shoulders and knees. Anna lifts her out of her prison and holds her tightly to her chest. Elsa's head flops against her shoulder, and Anna closes her eyes as she can feel the softest hint of breath against her jaw.
She's so light.
"Here, let me," Kristoff says quietly, and Anna opens her eyes and clutches Elsa closer. But Kristoff just has a brace in his hands. "I don't think, her neck isn't strong enough. And we need to move," he says as he puts the neck brace on. His hands hover for a moment before he tugs some of the loose blanket over Elsa's head like a hood.
"Hey, what are you — put that back!"
Shit. She never even heard the door open. Anna looks up to see a man in a lab coat in the doorway, key in his hand, looking startled and indignant. And then his words register and something inside her breaks.
Before she can react, though, Kristoff's hand goes for her gun belt and draws one of her pistols. In a single motion, he turns around and fires. The man falls, a hole right between his eyes. "Fuck you," he whispers savagely. "Fuck all of you."
She doesn't look at the body. It doesn't matter, not right now. "Kri— Adze," she whispers, "we need to get out of here."
He shudders once, then squares his shoulders. "Right. We've got," he checks the time, "nine minutes." A glance over his shoulder, and his expression looks tight but he tries to smile anyway. "Think we can do it?"
She takes a breath. Nothing to it. "Yeah. Come on."
He looks down, then looks a little startled that her pistol is in his hand. "Uh, sorry. Here," he says, trying to offer it back.
Anna shakes her head, stepping back half a step. "No, you, it's better if you keep it right now. I've got," she swallows hard and adjusts her grip on Elsa, keeping her head on her shoulder. "I've got..."
He gets it, just nods, steps over the body, and peers out the door. She takes a deep breath and follows him out of this fucking room.
The hallway is clear. The lights are dimmer than when they went in, and Anna realizes she can't hear the sounds of the mountain anymore. Everything must be running on backup power. No. Not thinking about that. Not about what that means. Nine minutes. They have to get out of here in nine minutes. Well, less now.
Her jaw hurts.
It doesn't matter.
Her world collapses down to Kristoff's back, the small, so damn small, weight in her arms, and Elsa's soft breaths against her jaw. Breathe.
She sprints after him, footsteps keeping time, a staccato against the stone. She hears yelling from far away, from behind metal doors. There's no one stopping them. Breathe.
That's what Elsa meant by fifteen. Fifteen minutes of total lockdown of the base, except for where Anna and Kristoff need to go. She bought them fifteen minutes, and Anna doesn't know what price she paid for that. Whatever the cost was, though, its too high. How much has Elsa been paying for in blood and bone? Breathe.
No time for stealth now. They just need to get out. They can't afford to get in a firefight. All they can do is run.
Put your head down, Anna, and run.
Kristoff pulls up to a halt at the top of a stairwell. She's about to question when he beats her to it. "The lobby," he says over the subvocal. Right. Glass.
Fuck.
Someone has to have pulled an alarm. Or the guards would be looking. Kristoff checks his borrowed pistol and kicks open the door.
All the glass windows have been reinforced, covered up with steel plating. Nothing gets in. And nothing gets out. Total lockdown. Anna's throat feels tight, and she ducks her head and breathes through her nose. Even right fucking now, Elsa's protecting them, thinking twenty moves ahead of everybody else.
How much did this fucking cost?
Elsa's breath is cool and barely there against her skin.
They keep running, past the pipes and labs, down staircases. Out of the corner of her eye, Anna sees the white glow of someone taking a cutting torch to a metal door that's blocking the branching corridors. She doesn't even know how much time they have left. It can't be much; those doors won't hold forever. It has to be enough.
Anna hears a rumble above her. The helipad. It's Scratch, he must be leaving. Something inside of her screams with fury that he's walking away again, because look at what he's done, look at what he's wrought. The sins against her family are sharp and jagged, and they tear at her throat as she swallows them down, and just pulls the wreckage of her family closer still. Not here. Not now.
There will be a next time. Because both she and Elsa are still breathing. This time, it's up to Anna to keep it that way.
They keep running. The corridor turns from concrete to stone again, the beat of her boots against it different, digging her feet in rather than sliding off as she spins around to kick the metal door shut behind her. The clang reverberates through her bones, through her teeth. Her sister doesn't move, and Anna grinds her teeth. She wishes she could fly out of here, but she can't, so her feet will just have to do the job.
The scent of fresh air and pine hits her hard enough to stagger as they burst through the outside door. She sucks in deep breaths of the cold mountain air, pressing her back against the rock. The mountain is silent after Kristoff slams the door shut, Scratch's helicopter apparently having left already. But Elsa whimpers a little in her arms, still unconscious, and Anna looks at Kristoff more than a little desperately. They're not safe yet, for all they've made it out of that hellhole of a base.
The forest is, amazingly, even harder. They still don't dare crack a chemstick, and Anna has to be extremely careful of where she puts her feet in almost complete darkness. Kristoff, it seems, is entirely aware of this, because as long as she focuses on following him, she doesn't even stumble and instead makes her way through the carefully-picked trail he leads her on. It's agonizingly slow, though, because at any moment, she's expecting shouts and spotlights. Because someone, sooner or later, is going to realize that Elsa's gone, thank fucking god, and they're likely not going to be happy about it.
She doesn't even know if the fifteen minutes was an absolute time limit, or just how long her sister could guarantee that Eden would be helpless against her lockdown. But it really doesn't matter, because as long as they're moving, they still have a chance. And there's nothing she can do about the time limit now anyway.
That doesn't stop her from nearly sobbing in relief when they break into the clearing, Kocoum's vehicle still there, Sven patiently standing guard. He yips quietly as he stands up, bounding over to Kristoff. He only manages to pat his fuzzy head once before the dog sharply turns towards her and drops his head and ears, whining softly.
Oh.
"I think you should probably take the back seat," Kristoff says quietly as he opens the door on the truck.
"Yeah, good plan," Anna whispers. Shotgun's too risky, so with Kristoff's hands holding her steady, she climbs into the back seat, still not ready to let her sister go. Elsa's easier to hold, now that Anna's sitting down. She's able to fuss a little, adjusting the blanket over her. Sven bounds into the truck, laying on the floor. He raises his head and gently nudges the blanket-wrapped form with his nose, before whining softly again.
"Hey Sven," she says over the sound of the engine turning over. "We did it. This is Rime. Elsa. We got her out. This is..." she chokes on the words, why can't she get them out, why are they sticking in her throat. Anna closes her eyes tight. Not yet. They're not safe here yet.
Sven licks her hand, then nuzzles her knees. Anna breathes again and opens her eyes.
"Hey." She jerks her head up at the sound of Kristoff's voice. His eyes are glued to what amounts to a trail in the dark in front of them, and she can see his knuckles are white where he's gripping the steering wheel. "We got her. We're almost out of this. Just need to get out of the woods, yeah?"
She breathes out again, long and hard. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
The truck is filled only with the sound of their breathing and the engine humming. Everything still feels too tense, too coiled. Like a calm part of a storm, right before everything maybe goes to hell again.
"How's she doing?" he asks, breaking the silence again.
Anna looks down again, forcing herself to do so. Her sister still hasn't woken up. Hell, the only sign she's still alive, that she's still somehow anchored to this world, is that she's still breathing. She's so damn pale. Anna shifts a little so she has a free hand and uses it to lightly tug the blanket again. Her fingers hover over Elsa's face, taking in the sunken eyes, the hollow cheeks, desperate to touch, to make sure her sister is real and this is not a dream. Or a nightmare.
Elsa doesn't stir as Anna brushes tentative, feather-light touches against her brow. She's still cold. And if she looks at her now, bundled up, Anna can almost forget about the rigid neck brace, about the skiz jacks, about the scars. Except it's still wrong, because it was always the other way around, with Elsa holding her close when they were children. Elsa tugging a blanket around her. Elsa poking her in the forehead with two cool fingers.
"Anna?"
She blinks. Oh. Kristoff's still waiting for an answer. "She hasn't woken up yet. And she's still really cold. Not shivering though. I don't know what that means. Is that bad? Oh god. I don't know. She's breathing though?"
"Hey, hey!" he says, and Anna forces herself to stop. "Breathing is good, okay? Breathing. Very good. For both of you. And okay, the emergency blanket isn't the best thing, but it's only for a bit longer." There's a pause, and Anna can see him swallow hard in the reflection off the front windshield. "We're not going to lose her now. Not after all this."
Sven thumps his tail in agreement.
Okay then. Okay.
Kristoff drives on. They don't say anything else. There's nothing they can say, and the truck eats up the distance. It's not smooth, but she knows he's trying, but it's a goddamn forest and just nothing and everything about tonight is going as she thought it would.
Finally, the truck breaks tree cover, and Anna can see Kocoum's house nestled in the valley. Kristoff parks the car right up front, and before she can even move, has wrenched the driver's side door open and is tearing off to the front porch.
"Kocoum!"
Within seconds, the other man is stumbling out the front door, dark hair down around his shoulders and dressed only in sleep pants. He looks bleary-eyed for half a second, before he focuses on Kristoff stopping up short in front of him. "Kristoff?"
"That thing. I was right. I, we need, I can't..." Kristoff's voice sounds strained. "Anna's sister. That's who we went to get. Elsa. She..." Anna strains to hear him, but Sven nudges her knees and sits on her feet, keeping her still.
Kocoum puts his hands on Kristoff's shoulders and says something too low for her to hear. But whatever it is must be what Kristoff wanted to hear, because he just slumps for a moment, and then Kocoum disappears inside and Kristoff is moving towards the truck. The back door opens, and Sven leaps out, but only to sit right next to the back wheel, almost as if he's waiting.
Kristoff pokes his head in. "If you scoot out backwards towards me, I'll help you get out."
"What was that about?"
He chews his lip. "I don't know how bad Elsa is. Kocoum's letting us stay here until we know."
Anna just nods and scoots back towards him, and his hands are gentle and strong when he lifts them both out of the truck. Once her feet are on the ground, she looks up to see his face weighted by a kind of sadness he isn't bothering to hide. Oh. He's picked her up before. He knows how much she weighs.
"Go on into the house. Sven, you know the way. I'll be right there in a minute."
Sven leads them up the front steps and back to the room Anna left, god, was it only a few hours ago? Gently, she finally lowers Elsa onto the bed. Her arms ache from being in one position so long, but she ignores it. Her hand trembles as she brushes the blanket hood off, still afraid to touch the scars marring her sister's head. She doesn't even dare take the neck brace off, not without Kristoff there. God, what if she hurts her?
A soft knock on the open door draws her attention. Kocoum's standing in the doorway, a pile of cloth in his arms. He looks at her, then at her sister in the bed. Something unreadable flashes across his face. But when he speaks, his voice is far softer than the last time they spoke. "I have some clothes from when our parents send some of the boys to us. It's not much, but they're clean and soft enough."
Words catch in her throat, and all she can do is nod. Thankfully, he seems to get it and steps into the room before offering her the pile and stepping back out. She looks down at the clothes in her hands. An unopened pack of boxers. A soft and worn pair of pants. And a huge grey hoodie, broken in and sinfully soft, drawstring already removed. It makes Anna want to cry.
Her eyesight goes blurry as she removes the emergency blanket and slides a pair of the boxers and then the pants over Elsa's emaciated hips. She's trying to be as gentle as she can, but Anna can count every bone and joint as her fingers brush over them. She nearly chokes on tears when she feels the texture of the scar tissue on her legs.
Elsa had said there was fire that night. Fire and a lot of pain.
Anna bites her lip almost hard enough to bleed as she carefully maneuvers her sister's skinny arms into the hoodie. She's practically swimming in it, and it makes her look even more small and fragile. The hood is tugged over her head; maybe it'll help get her warm? She's still so damn cold.
There's another knock. Kocoum's back, this time with an armful of blankets and Kristoff behind him. Kristoff takes a look at them, then gives his brother a strange look. Kocoum ignores him, instead speaking to her in that softer voice again while he hands over the blankets. "I don't know what's needed yet, so I just brought some of everything." His eyes flick to Elsa, then back. "If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen. Just call."
And then it's just the four of them in the room. Kristoff has a pinched look on his face, as if he's fighting down some emotion, as he comes over to the bed, first aid kit in his hand. Anna moves away, slightly, but can't bring herself to step away entirely, letting the back of her fingers rest against Elsa's cheek.
His lips get thinner and thinner, pressing them together as he checks Elsa's vitals. She watches him as he carefully examines the skiz port on her wrist, his hand dwarfing hers entirely. Finally, he sits back on his heels and looks at her. "You're gonna stay with her, right?" He shakes his head before she can answer. "Right, stupid question. She's fine right now, but she shouldn't be alone. I need to go talk to Kocoum."
He leaves. Anna takes one of the blankets, a thick blue quilt, and drapes it over Elsa, making sure that it's not too constricting. Sven climbs up onto the bed, and before she can scold him, he lays down on her sister's other side, far enough away to not be on top of her, but close enough to be warm. He rests his head on his paws and looks up at her. She rubs him behind his ears with her free hand. "You want to help too, don't you?"
His tail thumps once.
She doesn't know how long they sit there. Anna's glad she slept earlier; there's no way she would have been able to do it now. The room's washed out in this strange grey pre-dawn light, shadows smearing in and out of the corners. Time is kept now by the slight signs of Elsa breathing, the rise and fall of her chest she can barely detect. In and out. Anna's breath slows as she tries to keep time, as if she can breathe for her sister, the world drowning out to only the sound of air and her heart.
Anna jerks up and looks around. That thumping noise isn't her heart. Before she can say a word, Kocoum comes sliding in on his socks, looking far more wild than she ever expected. "Helicopters. You need to get to the basement."
She's got Elsa in her arms, blanket and all, before he even finishes talking. "Where's Kristoff?" she asks as he leads her to a closet deeper in the house.
He kneels down and pops open a trapdoor. There's a narrow wooden set of stairs leading into a basement that looks like it's been cut into the stone. "He went to get Doc." She opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off as he shoves a cracked chemstick at Sven. "I'll answer later. You need to get down there. The stone should hide your thermal signs enough that hopefully they'll only do a fly-by. Now go!"
The door closes as soon as Sven's tail clears the trap door. He's holding the chemstick in his mouth, and it's just enough light that Anna can make it down these steps without breaking her neck. It's warmer than she expected down here, and at the edge of the glow, she can make out what looks like a set of bunk beds along with some other storage. The lower bunk looks good enough, so she puts Elsa down and then sits on the edge of the mattress and waits.
There's been a lot of waiting.
The worst part is not knowing what's going on, Anna decides. Well, other than the fact that now they know Eden's figured out that their little horrorshow is over with, and now they have to keep Elsa out of their grubby hands. She rubs her eyes. Should have known she was missing something.
And she was. The key. Scratch had a fucking key. Rime's, Elsa's, one weakness was a simple mechanical lock. She could be the best with anything that used electricity or the 'net, but she was powerless the second something required touching something in the real world. How many times has Anna joked about being her hands? Hah, look who's laughing now. And Scratch knew. Knew there was one thing Elsa could do jack shit against, and put a physical lock on the door to her cage.
Anna desperately wants to punch something. Preferably Scratch's face in.
A sharp huff of air makes her jerk her head up. She can see Elsa's eyes moving rapidly under the lids, notices that her breathing rate's increased. Shit. What's going on? Dammit, she doesn't know what to do, what if she's hurt, what if she's sick? Kristoff's gone and she's stuck in a goddamn basement with a dog.
Elsa's eyes snap open, glowing harsh blue, and her jaw drops without a sound.
It takes Anna five seconds to realize she's screaming.
Then she's scrambling closer, hesitates only for a second, because oh god, what if she hurts her, but Elsa's locked in a silent scream, and why isn't she making a sound? How did she learn to not make a sound? But Anna kicks the thoughts down, because Elsa needs her, and she holds the sides of her sister's face.
"Elsa," she hisses, holding her face right in front of Elsa, so that all she could see is Anna. Elsa's eyes are bright, glowing, and wild, rapidly moving back and forth, chasing something Anna can't see. "Elsa! Elsa, I'm here. I'm here. You're safe. You're out, you're here, it's me, you're gonna be okay."
Slowly, painfully, Elsa's eyes stop their rapid movement and focus on her. The blue glow dims. "An...na?"
It's harsh and whisper-quiet, a rasp more than a voice. She lets go of Elsa's face, but lets one hand linger. She thinks she's developing the pathological need to stay in physical contact with her sister, just to remember she's there, that she won't vanish like frost in the morning sun.. "Yeah. It's me."
"You're...safe?"
Anna's lost count of how many times today she's swallowed down tears and hurt. Goddammit, even now? Anna's not the one who's in terrible shape. "Yeah," she says, voice cracking. "I'm fine. You're out, you're safe."
Elsa closes her eyes and breathes out.
Anna's stomach drops. "Elsa? Elsa!"
"Sorry," she rasps, cracking her eyelids open again. "Still...here."
"It's okay," she says, rubbing her thumb lightly over her sister's cheek. Her skin is still cold, tinted blueish-grey due to the light from her eyes and the chemstick. But her eyes continue to literally dim, until they otherwise look completely normal, other than being the same blue Anna remembers. "It's okay," she whispers again.
"Where?"
"Shh." It sounds like it's painful for Elsa to talk, Anna thinks, with a stab of guilt. "We're in the basement of Kocoum's place. Kristoff's brother? He said he heard helicopters. So we're down here in case they have thermal sensors."
"Do."
"Well, then it's a good thing he thinks fast." Anna bites her lip. There's a thousand and one things she wants to ask, and not one of them works right now. All the questions of what and how and why, the questions that ghosted over her childhood and chased her these last three years. All the things she wanted to ask, all the things she wanted to say.
And she can't speak a damn one right now.
There's a knock on the trapdoor. She whirls around, one hand now on Elsa's thin shoulder, blocking her from line of sight. Sven's on alert, ears cocked.
"It's me," Kocoum says, muffled through the wood. Sven relaxes, tail wagging slightly. "It's clear." The door cracks open and he sticks his head down.
Sven takes a step, then turns back to Anna, whining softly. She bites her lip. "Can you move?" she asks, turning back around. She knows the answer. But it feels like she should ask it anyway.
But Elsa's eyes are closed again, her breathing evened out. Even that short conversation, less than three minutes, apparently took a lot out of her and she's dozed off. That's...worrying, actually.
Kocoum's eyes are a little unreadable when they come up the stairs, Elsa once again in her arms. "Thanks," she says softly.
His look changes, softening the harsh lines of his face. "It's not a problem." He glances down. "How is she?"
"She, she woke up, for maybe a minute or two." Anna bites her lip. Kocoum is not Kristoff, but there's no one else here, and she just doesn't know anymore. "I think she, she was screaming when she woke up."
He hums a little, deep and rumbling. "I don't know. I don't know what happened to her. But maybe if, when she wakes up again, we can try and see if food won't help."
She gets Elsa settled back into the bedroom, and then finds herself at a loss of what to do. There's nothing obvious for her, but she can't leave because what if she wakes up again without Anna there? She looks up when she hears Kocoum's heavier footsteps, and he enters the room balancing two plates and a bowl.
"Here," he says, shoving a plate into her hand and setting the bowl on the ground for Sven. "I figured breakfast was a good plan."
It's simple, just eggs and toast and sausage, but even though she's barely tasting it, it's still good. They eat in silence, Kocoum pulling up two chairs from somewhere and joining her right next to the bed. He says nothing about her balancing the plate on her knees and eating one-handed. When she's finished, he takes her plate and returns it to the kitchen. But, to her surprise, he comes back and sits with her as she waits. It should be weird, but his looming bulk next to her somehow settles something inside her.
When Elsa next wakes up, she doesn't scream. She just quietly, everything about her is quiet, opens her eyes, and they're normal, not glowing. Anna can't fight the small smile, so she doesn't even try. "Hey," she whispers, scooching closer. "Welcome back. How're you feeling?"
"Fine."
It's obviously, painfully, a lie, but Anna can't even bring herself to call her out on it. "You want to eat something?"
There's a slight widening of Elsa's eyes that makes Anna's heart want to shatter, because it's as if the very idea of it never crossed her sister's mind. Food. There was no way that damn coffin would have let her eat. When was the last time Elsa ate food?
A scrape against the hardwood floor distracts her for half a second as Kocoum stands up. "I'll be right back with something."
She nods, and turns back to see Elsa's eyes slipping closed again. "Elsa?"
Her eyes flutter open. "Sorry," she rasps.
Anna wishes she knew what she could do. "It's okay. Not your fault."
"Tired."
She fusses with the hoodie over her sister's head. "It's okay," she says again. "I'll still be here. It's fine."
It's not really fine, but she doesn't know what to say. Elsa stares at her for a second, and Anna's twists her hands in the blankets to keep from crying, because god, nothing about this is fair. Elsa dozes off again, and Anna buries her head in her hand, other still resting next to Elsa's cheek.
Sven nudges her elbow with his nose, catching her attention. He plops his head in her lap, and her fingers automatically start scratching him behind the ears. He woofs softly. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be okay." His ears twitch, and he looks up at her. "Kristoff's coming back, right? He's bringing Doc. I wish I knew what that meant. It could be she just needs something more than he could do, right? It doesn't mean, doesn't...it doesn't mean something's wrong, right? That she's gonna, that she's gonna..." Her fingers tighten on the ruff of his neck, and he just buries his nose into her stomach. "She's gonna be fine."
She hears Kocoum's footsteps coming down the hall, takes a deep breath, and sits up straight. He has a small bowl with a spoon in one hand, glass of ice chips in the other, and a towel draped over his arm. He puts the glass down on the nightstand. "Kristoff said she should probably be able to handle this," he says, handing her the bowl half-full of some clear broth and towel. "So I made vegetable broth." He looks over at Elsa's form, then back at her. "She's...going to need some help."
Oh. Anna looks down at the bowl in her hands. God. She looks back up at him. "She fell back to sleep."
"Do you want to try to wake her up?"
Food would...maybe food would make her less tired. She brushes her fingers against Elsa's cheek. "Elsa. Hey." Her sister stirs, then opens her eyes, searching. "Hey you," Anna says quietly. "Kocoum brought you some food."
"If I may," he says, in the gentlest voice she's ever heard from him, as he crouches down next to the bed so Elsa can see him, "I can help. If you let me, I can hold you up, Elsa, so your sister can help you with the soup."
Hold her up so she doesn't choke. Because Anna doesn't even know if she can sit up. But Elsa looks at Kocoum for a long moment, before she manages "Yes."
Kocoum nods, and then with careful movements that surprise Anna given his size, he lifts Elsa up and climbs into the bed before settling her so she's leaning against his broad chest. He's leaning against the headboard, his arms gently wrapped around her torso to keep her secure, holding her entire weight.
Anna absently stirs the broth before bringing a spoonful up to Elsa's lips. She manages to swallow it, and Anna's never been more glad to see someone manage to eat before. It's so goddamn simple, something so many take for granted, and here...Anna keeps bringing spoonfuls of a too-goddamn-simple liquid up to her older sister's mouth. She's spoonfeeding her big sister. How...Elsa probably fed her when she was a baby. How is this even real?
There's something glistening on Elsa's cheek, right by the corner of her eye. The spoon pauses in the air. She's, that's a tear. "Elsa? If it's bad, I can stop."
"No," she rasps, and although maybe it's only Anna's imagination, she thinks Elsa's voice is sounding a little stronger.
Her sister is crying, and Anna is so useless because she doesn't know what to do. But Elsa opens her mouth, so the only thing she can do is continue feeding her.
All too soon, the bowl is empty. Elsa closes her eyes again, and looks like a puppet with its strings cut, slumped against Kocoum's chest. He ducks his head to get closer to her ear. "Are you thirsty? There are ice chips," he says quietly, then looks up at Anna.
"Yes." Elsa opens her eyes again, halfway.
Anna grabs the glass, and fishes out a chip of ice that she brings to Elsa's lips. After her sister takes it, she uses the soft towel to wipe Elsa's mouth and chin clean of soup. She hesitates for a moment, then runs her thumb gently across Elsa's cheek, wiping away the lone tear track.
Elsa looks at her, and there's something in that gaze that Anna just doesn't understand. She's so used to her teasing, sarcastic, brilliant sister on the comms, that she doesn't know how to read the one right in front of her. The one who can't really talk and speaks only with her eyes, the one denied everything else Anna could read.
She doesn't know her sister as well as she thought she did.
Elsa falls asleep again once she's swallowed the last of the melted ice, and Kocoum carefully extracts himself and rests her carefully back down on the pillows. He picks up the bowl and glass, nods to her once, and then leaves. He left the blanket down slightly, and instead of moving it, Anna curls her fingers into Elsa's hand. Sven, for his part, seems content to put his head in her lap again.
Time kind of slips away from her. She doesn't know how long she sits there, fingers tangled up with Elsa's. It feels like forever and no time at all, broken when Sven suddenly brings his head up and cocks it towards the door. Anna hears a car pull up shortly after, and then the car doors slamming.
She thinks maybe she should move, get up and see, but that means leaving and...it doesn't matter, because she hears footsteps coming down the hall and a knock on the door. Anna didn't even realize Kocoum had closed it. "Yeah?" she asks.
"It's Doc. With Adze. Kristoff. Can we come in?"
Oh thank god. "Yeah. Yeah, come in."
The door opens, and Anna's never been more glad to see the other woman in her life. Doc takes one look at Elsa on the bed, though, and her spine stiffens before she starts swearing in Mandarin. Anna's pretty sure it's swearing; what else would sound like that? It also makes her heart rate skyrocket.
"Nice," Elsa rasps, and Anna jumps, not realizing she's awake. But her eyes are still closed.
"Rime, hush. Stop trying to talk right now," says Doc, calmer now. "Kristoff, drop the gear over in that corner and get the next set."
He goes, and Doc pulls on a pair of exam gloves from her pocket as she walks over. "Dammit, Rime," she murmers, "I never thought meeting you face-to-face would be like this."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. Can you open your eyes?" Elsa does, and Doc hums. "Hey there. I'm going to need to touch you a bit to do this. Is that okay?"
"Doctor."
Somehow, Doc is apparently able to translate one-word replies. "Doesn't mean I still can't ask."
"Yes."
Doc picks up the hand Anna's not holding, despite the awkward angle, and finds her pulse. Anna can't read her expression when she puts Elsa's hand back down on the bed.
Kristoff comes back with more bags and puts them with the rest. "You need anything else?"
Doc shakes her head. "I'll call you if I need you. You might need to rescue your brother, though. I think T commandeered his kitchen."
"T's here?" Anna asks, really not expecting that.
Doc's smile is lop-sided. "I was at the bar when I got the call from Kristoff. Once she found out that it had to do with you and Rime, well, I'm not sure god himself could have stopped her from coming along." She reaches out to clasp Anna's shoulder. "You're okay, right? This guy here said you were fine, but it'd ease my mind to hear it from you."
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing wrong. Completely fine." She ducks her head and chews her bottom lip. "Thanks, by the way. For coming."
The hand on her shoulder leaves, and instead Doc crouches down so Anna's looking her in the eyes. "Hey. None of that from you either. He didn't even need to ask." Anna tries to nod, and Doc stands, taking a step back and turning to look at the bed. "Right. Rime..."
"Box."
Doc blinks. "Okay, I'm going to need a little more than that."
"Box." Elsa makes a frustrated noise, a wet rasp that shreds Anna's heart. "A-Arc?"
That probably shouldn't rank up there with some of the worst things in the past few hours, but it does, because Elsa's calling for her. Even this little thing, and she just needs to think. What could she be talking about? What bo — "Oh! The box you made Djinn get?"
"Yes," she says, sounding a little better.
"Arc?" Doc asks, looking a little confused.
"Hold on. Kristoff? That black gear bag of mine, where is it?"
Kristoff nods quickly. "It's still in Kocoum's truck. Hold on," he says, already running off. He's back quickly, dropping the bag at her feet. "I'm...gonna go see if Kocoum needs help. Or a break." He hesitates for a moment. "Just call if you need me?" Anna nods, and he smiles faintly before disappearing down the hall. Sven, surprisingly, stays in the room.
Anna breathes out, then reluctantly untangles her fingers from Elsa's hand. She unzips the bag, roots around in it, and pulls out the locked metal box. Thank you, paranoia, for making her pack it. Her fingers brush over the metal, trying to find a way to open it, and dig into a catch. But it just reveals a pull-out keypad.
"I don't know the code."
"Your...birthday."
Her chest feels tight. Goddammit. Her eyesight goes blurry for a moment, but she blinks rapidly to clear it as she taps out the numbers. The box clicks open; inside are a bunch of vials of various liquids, all carefully labeled. It takes Anna's brain a second to catch up. Drugs. The box is full of drugs.
"Can I see that?" Doc asks. Anna hands the box over wordlessly, and Doc's lips thin as she examines the contents. "Rime. Are these what you think they had you on?"
"Yes."
Christ on a bicycle, it must be a goddamn pharmacy in that box. Anna can see the muscles in Doc's jaw tighten, and looks away. Elsa's eyes are closed again, and Anna has to fight to keep her's open, keep herself watching. What did those bastards do to her?
"Well, that makes this a hell of a lot simpler and harder," Doc sighs. She puts the box on the nightstand, and turns to Anna. "Arc, I really hate to do this, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Wait, what? "Doc! I can't, how can you—?"
Doc sighs again. "Arc. I know. I know. You want to know. Believe me, I understand." She holds up her hands to stop Anna from answering that. "But I'm now your sister's doctor, and I'm supposed to watch out for her privacy. And her ability to choose to tell you things. And those are both things, privacy and choice, that I don't think Rime's had a lot of in the last few years."
Fuck. Goddamn that argument, because when Doc puts it like that, everything just comes crashing down, and Anna can't argue against that. "Doc...I..."
"Please." Anna whips her head around at Elsa's quiet rasp. "Arc. Not...here. Can't..." Elsa struggles with the words, eyes closed tight. A tear escapes and trails down her cheekbone. "With...you..here."
Out of the corner of her eye, Anna sees Doc clench her jaw and turn away. It feels like the ground just went out from under her feet, and she's falling and doesn't know where she's going to land. "I...what...how..."
"Please." And that wet rasp is back, digging claws into Anna's heart and tearing it out of her chest. "Later."
"Arc." She looks up, and Doc is looking at her with nothing but kindness. "As soon as Rime gives me permission, you'll be the first to know, okay? But you have to let me do my job."
Sven whines, and shoves his head underneath Anna's hand. She forgot he was here, and her fingers tangle up in his fur. He leans his weight against her leg and whines again, and the warmth and weight of him is enough to ground her, just for a little bit. "Promise?" And she hates how her voice cracks, high and needy. She's not the one who's supposed to be needy, not right now.
"I promise."
Sven nudges her towards the door, and she finds her feet following him. She looks over her shoulder when she crosses the threshold, and stares at Elsa lying small and still on the bed until Doc gently closes the door.
Anna would have probably stood there staring at that wooden door for however long it took, but Sven nudges her again and she stumbles away. He woofs at her, and then sits down on his haunches right in front of the door. She rubs his ears. "Are you gonna stay here?" He woofs. "You trying to tell me to leave?" Another woof. She swallows hard. "You...you'd tell me if something...happens, right?" He woofs again and licks her hand. "Okay."
It's hard, walking down the hall. Everything she is makes her want to turn around and go back. But Elsa...asked. She clenches her eyes shut. She asked. So Anna will put one foot in front of the other and walk away. Even if it makes her soul feel raw.
She needs something. Anything. Her hands start to shake, and she shoves them into her pockets. Just something to do, something so her brain isn't running in circles outside that door.
She stumbles into the kitchen. Kocoum is at the stove. T's got a knife in one hand and some kind of meat in the other, on the cutting board. The older woman looks up, and Anna can see concern and sadness and pity written in every line and nearly chokes on it. "Arc.."
"Hi, T," Anna manages. Her voice sounds distant to her own ears. "Do you, do you need anything?" Please. Dear god, she just needs something to do.
T's eyes are the worst as she slowly shake her head. "No, we're fine here. Arc. Honey. You've...how about you take a moment for yourself? You're still all geared up. At least get yourself comfortable."
Anna blinks and looks down. T's right; she is still got all her equipment and armor on. One of her holsters is still missing it's pistol. "Oh. Right." Then she kind of lets her arms hang uselessly.
"It's okay if you just throw it on a chair for now," Kocoum says. "Kristoff does it all the time."
Anna swallows. "Okay. I'll...I'll go do that."
"Arc..." But Anna can't deal with that level of kindness, with that kind of concern, not right now. Her hands feel numb as she mechanically strips off her gear, fingers fumbling for the first time in years over the straps. But she manages it and dumps the gunbelt and armor on a nearby chair. Once the weight is off, though, everything just seems like too much. She feels like she's choking, her chest feels too tight. She can't breathe in this house.
The morning air is cold when it hits her as she runs out the back door. The sun is starting to peak over the mountains, brilliant and bright over the forests and spilling into the valley. The air on her tongue is crisp and clean, nothing like the oppressive weight of the city.
It's the winter solstice.
Anna crouches down and watches the sunrise. "Happy birthday, Elsa."