Thank you for joining me on the rewrite of this fic that was only ever a baby to begin with! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! And I hope the things returning readers liked are still present.

All rights to Tolkien, Newline Cinema, and Jackson.

This is a bit like those stories I used to read when I was little, those Disney-fied ones where the girl pretends to be a soldier for noble reasons and then her army general or the prince of the land falls in love with her. Yeah, this is a bit like that, except I wasn't pretending to be a man, or even in the army.

I was pretending to have two whole legs.

The flat was dim when Sebastian unlocked the front door, a grim pile of letters with increasingly bold font and bright paper stuffed inside an old shoe greeting him. He shoved them into his satchel to pass onto his parents. The carpet was dusty and the vacuum cleaner hadn't appeared to have moved from where Sebastian left it when he visited two days ago. Sighing, he edged his way around it and the bulky pair of crutches, helpfully labelled with the hospital they were borrowed from's address, and made his way into the tiny sitting room, where slumped on the plush couch he found his sister.

While the fact that Real Housewives was still playing concerned him, Sebastian could see that Helsinki had washed her hair recently, and that she'd cleaned the rubbish and dishes off of the coffee table, where a slimmer pair of crutches now rested.

"Afternoon Hels," he greeted, throwing himself down into the armchair and slinging a paperback over at his sister.

Helsinki grumbled at him. "Why do you keep doing this? Popping around to fuck me off? You should be at work, mum and dad can't support two degenerate children."

"I'm not at work because it's five-thirty and I'm a teacher, and two, I'm here because I care about you. Just like mum and dad and Pawel do," Sebastian rehashed the argument he'd been faced with every time he visited for the past three months.

"Shit is it five thirty already? Time really does fly when you're watching Paullina throw down with Marcy," Helsinki commented. She inspected the book that had landed on her lap. "What's this shit?"

"Mum's new craze, she seems to reckon it'll fix your dingy little life," Sebastian replied without looking away from the women arguing on the screen.

"It doesn't seem to be called 'How to Re-Grow legs and other Limbs'," Helsinki snorted. "And my life isn't dingy, it's just…"

"Grimy?" Sebastian suggested. Helsinki threw a pillow at him.

"Small right now. Don't see how this book can help," Helsinki let the paperback drop to the floor. The title glared up at her; 'Pizza and Pity Parties: How to Grieve into a Better Person'.

Sebastian shrugged. "Mum told me to bring it, so I did. She says she'll stop by tomorrow with something for dinner, she seems to think you're eating nothing but Indian take-out and will have developed scurvy by Christmas."

"I had Turkish last night, actually," Helsinki stated, now a little miffed. How she wanted to wallow in her shame and life was her choice.

"That's an improvement then, that's what Doctor Mallory said wasn't it? To reach out for things you love? You love Turkish food, that's an improvement Hels. Now you've got to work towards leaving the flat to get it," Sebastian said, probably more enthusiastically than he should have.

Helsinki leveled him with a glare, propping herself up on her arms. "Excuse me, but if I want to order in Turkish because I'm tired of Indian I will, it has nothing to do with improvement or Doctor Mallory for that matter. Now don't mention that name in this house again," she slumped back down and turned the volume on the television up.

"Hels…"

"I'm warning you Seb, I've had enough. I'm tired and I'm done. I want to be left alone to watch Cathy and Brittany fight," she said.

Sebastian regarded his sister sadly. She was paler and frailer looking every time he saw her, steadily getting closer and closer to being the shell of the person she'd been before her surgery, when she was medicated to the gills and frequently attached to beeping machines. "I only want to help you, Helsinki."

"I don't want your help, nor do I need it. Pass that on to mum, won't you," she firmly said. "I can hobble around this flat easy enough and pharmacies deliver now. I'm happy as I am."

"But you're not, you're sitting in the dark, absorbing day-time television like a sponge, eating take-out, and lashing out at everyone trying to help you! You refuse to improve your life because you think it's over, and sure, you won't be a doctor like you always dreamed of-" Helsinki flinched visibly at his words- "but you're alive and in a position so many wish they could have. Write a book, take up felting, buy a cat, you need to do something before you drive us all mad in worry!" Sebastian felt bad for blowing up at his sister, but someone needed to say it. "You don't even watch Grey's Anatomy and correct all the medical information anymore, Hels…"

Helsinki looked away and flicked the television off, jaw clenched uncomfortably tight. "I know you all want to help but that isn't what I need," she said stiffly.

"Then what do you need? Drugs? A dog? A date? Hell, I'll shell out for a stripper if that'll bring back the Hels I know, but you need to tell us how we can help you!" Sebastian leaned forward, gesticulating wildly.

His sister's eyes flared and she shoved herself upright on the couch with a wince. "I'll tell you what I need, I need a good fucking sleep, a day without phantom pains or reminders of what I can't do anymore, and a new fucking leg, how about that?" she snapped. The material of the couch rasped under her clawed fingers digging into it.

"Fine! Get up, we're leaving," Sebastian stood and shouldered his bag. Helsinki glared at him from her position on the couch. He pulled the blanket off of her, revealing a pair of pyjama pants knotted at the thigh on the left side.

"Watch it pervert!" Helsinki squawked, smacking at him. "I could have been naked under there!"

"We both know that wasn't an option," Sebastian deadpanned, and Helsinki's face dropped minutely into sadness again. "Besides, we were bathed together for three and a half years. We shared a womb, I couldn't care less what I'd find under your blanket," he huffed.

Helsinki continued to stonily stare back at him. "C'mon get up, and dressed, we're going down the pub," he instructed her while offering a hand to help her off of the couch.

"I can't drink you moron," she sneered, taking the offered help nonetheless.

"I know you can't, but I can and I had the most wretched day, honestly," Sebastian told her as he helped her down the short hallway to her bedroom. Helsinki took a seat on her bed and unashamedly pulled down her pants, previous comments about her nudity forgotten. Sebastian straightened up the room and made the bed as his sister pulled the liner and prosthesis towards her, trying not to stare at the stump of her left thigh.

The room was quiet while Helsinki tugged on the liner and then the sleeve over her stump. "How's it healing?" Sebastian asked after a moment of silence.

"Fine I guess," Helsinki answered, soft clicking noises now indicating that she was putting the prosthesis on.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Tell me like you're treating a patient. You wouldn't describe a patient as 'fine, I guess,'" he said.

Helsinki sniffed. "It's not like I'm going to be describing many patients anyway, is it, Sebastian?" she questioned overly politely, reminding him that he was on thin ice. She sighed and fiddled with the mechanism that vacuum sealed her leg into the socket. "Scars healed, skin condition fine with cream to help flexibility. Compression shrinkage is good and weight bearing is also good. Happy now?" she carefully got to her feet, sharp tongue offsetting her wobbly movement. Sebastian grinned at his sister.

"Very happy, I'll be sure to pass that on to mum and dad," he held out a pair of black elasticated jeans he found in the clean washing pile. Gratefully, Helsinki sat back down and slid them on over her leg cover, a plastic piece that clipped over the pylon -the shin- of her prosthesis to give her leg a more natural shape. The plastic cover was a gift from her elder brother Pawel, with input from Sebastian. A brilliant copper colour, they had designed the faint geometric pattern pressed into the plastic in order to make it more fitting for their sister.

Once Helsinki had wiggled both legs into the jeans, she stood up and buttoned the fly, checking her t-shirt and plaid overshirt combination. "Good?" she checked with Sebastian.

"It's bloody cold out, you'll need at least another layer and boots. Reckon it'll snow sooner rather than later," he threw a pair of balled up socks at his sister, who reluctantly sat back down to pull them on. She followed the socks with a pair of padded black hiker boots, her favourite ones with a knitted cuff detail and no heel.

Once up and moving, it took her an awkwardly long time to adjust to walking with her prosthesis, carefully figuring out her gait as she followed her brother down the hallway. Sebastian snagged the small pile of prescriptions from the shelf by the door, tucking them into his coat as he tugged it on.

"We can drop these off at the pharmacy when we pass it, might as well remind the pharmacist what you look like," he said. Helsinki glowered and bundled up in her winter coat, a padded green thing with shearling lining. She reached for the door, only for her brother's arm to stop her.

Sebastian held out a large navy blue handbag, quite stylish by all accounts and clearly already filled with something larger than a wallet. "Hels…"

"I don't need to bring that thing, we're only going around the corner," she protested, smacking the fine leather away from her. "I've got the stuff I need in my pocket anyways!"

"It's not just about your epilepsy anymore Hels," Sebastian groaned. "Mum'll have my head if I let you go out without the emergency bag she put together for you. What if your leg starts hurting? Or you fall and cut yourself? C'mon Helsinki just take it!"

Stubbornly, Helsinki flicked the offending bag away from herself. "I hate carrying my epilepsy medication why would I want to carry a bag full of suture kits or paracetamol or whatever the fuck it is that mum's packed for me in an anxious fit?"

"Just take it so we can go get dinner," Sebastian jerked the bag, waiting his sister out. "Grandad helped her with the bag, there's probably something quite useful in there," he pointed out.

Helsinki took the bag, leading the way slowly down the hall to the lift, all the while rummaging in her bag. Sebastian locked the flat behind them both.

While they waited for the slow and noisy lift, Helsinki let out a grunt of triumph. "Aha!" she pulled a cigar shaped item from the depths of the bag, a second, flatter shape tied to the first with a pretty length of pale blue ribbon.

"What's that?" Sebastian asked cautiously. Their paternal grandfather was well known for giving poor or eccentric gifts. His wedding present to their mother had been a taser gun, and he once tried to give their elder brother Pawel a grenade from the second world war.

The lift doors trundled open and Helsinki limped in after her brother, brandishing the item. Now untied, the flatter item was revealed to be a flip knife, now held in the maniacal hands of the youngest Alphecca child. Unperturbed, Sebastian nodded towards the second part of the gift as Helsinki retracted the knife blade. "And that one?"

"Telescopic baton by the looks of it," she flicked her wrist and the inconspicuous black cylinder extended to a good two feet of stainless steel. The lift doors rolled open right as it extended, frightening the shit out of the elderly resident Gary as he waited to get in. The siblings froze, hyper aware of the weapon one of them was currently offensively holding in the direction of a pensioner.

"Hello Mr White," Helsinki said, starting to try and jam the baton back down with the heel of her hand.

"Just a prank gift," Sebastian reassured the old man as he eyed them both warily. "Put it away," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth to his sister. Mr White's eyes slowly flicked inbetween the brunet smiling at him and the blonde having an argument with a self-defense weapon.

"I can't," Helsinki hissed back, now turned sideways to try and hide her struggle from the pensioner who looked more and more likely to call the police. Sebastian smiled at Mr White.

"Put it away!" he edged closer to the door.

"I can't you prick!" Helsinki smacked it against the wall and the baton finally retracted. She turned back, shoved the offending item back in her handbag, and smiled brightly at Mr White. "Sorry about that Mr White, gift from grandad. He's gone a bit…" she motioned to her head, skirting around the man and hurrying to the exit.

Outside in the chilly wind, Sebastian couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Christ he's gonna call the police, Hels," he said. "The worst time to experiment with it and you threaten a pensioner!"

"Shut up you pillock," Helsinki bumped his shoulder, smiling nonetheless. "Oh god I'm never gonna be able to face him again. Or the old ladies in 14 he plays bingo with."

Sebastian set off down the street, heading for the pharmacy. "It's not that bad, he's probably got cataracts and didn't know what you were pointing at him."

"Great, so he probably thinks I was threatening him with a dildo," Helsinki snickered, carefully measuring each step on her new leg. Thankfully the streets around her flat in Islington, London were paved reasonably well and lacked hurdles and trip hazards.

Sebastian chuckled. "Or that you were flashing him with your prosthetic cock."

"Shut up," Helsinki snorted, both going quiet as they entered the pharmacy. She took the papers her brother offered, scrunched up from his pocket, and marched (limped) off to hand them to the pharmacist. There wasn't a line, so they elected to wait for them to be filled, Helsinki browsing the lipsticks and Sebastian sniffing shower gels.

"Alphecca?" the pharmacist called, holding a large paper bag. Helsinki made her way back and gratefully took the bag, putting a lipstick on the counter.

"Thanks, and this please," she quickly paid and then the siblings were back out and making their way into a crowded pub for dinner.

"There's a lot in here, I think the pharmacist must think I'm a druggie," Helsinki peered into the bag while they waited for their meals. Someone bumped into the back of her chair and burped loudly.

"I already think you are," muttered Sebastian. Helsinki smacked him but grinned all the same.

"Just for that I'll never share my good stuff with you," she reprimanded.

"Not that you ever have," Sebastian said. "Oh, here we go," he smiled at their waiter as two large plates of mashed potato, crispy pastry, and a healthy serving of peas smothered in butter were gently put down in front of them. "Now this, this is real food, Hels," Sebastian told her, already face first in a beef wellington.

Helsinki swallowed the mass amounts of potato she had crammed into her mouth. "Don't talk shit about Turkish and Indian, they have vegetables. That's real food."

"It's only real food if it's served on a plate," he argued.

"By that logic, if I put a dog shit on a plate and served it to you, that'd be considered real food," pointed out Helsinki, helpfully gesturing with her fork.

"The prerequisite is that it is at least human-grade food being served, not anything you find on the street and dish up," said Sebastian.

"Anything is food if you eat it," Helsinki replied through a sticky mouthful of potato. She paused to take a deep drink of lemonade.

Sebastian slumped in his seat and groaned over his plate. "Don't start that argument again, you ruined Christmas with this shit. Nan still hasn't forgiven you and Pawel."

"Not my problem if she holds onto a grudge. Speaking of the immortal crone, what'd you get her for Christmas?"

"Dunno," Sebastian shrugged. "Figured I'd work something out this weekend. Find something on sale. What'd you get her?"

Helsinki smiled smugly. "I got her a massive book on the European Aristocracy, she's real into it since we got her onto all those historical dramas on Netflix. And you'd better find something quick, the shops'll be a madhouse by Friday," she advised.

"Got any ideas?"

"A grandson who doesn't procrastinate?"

"Piss off. What's Pawel got her? He must have had to ship it weeks ago for it to arrive from Aussie," Sebastian asked. The band started up in the corner, drawing even more people into the small space. Already boiling hot, the room was becoming stifling and deafening beyond worth.

"Dunno, knowing Golden Child it's probably a laptop or a plasma screen TV," Helsinki muttered into her peas.

"Right," Sebastian paused. "How'd you ship a plasma TV?"

"How should I know?" Helsinki answered. "I was kidding, mostly. He's probably got her something good though; you know how much that company he works for pays."

Sebastian hummed into his lager. "Do I ever. Thought Sarah was gonna leave me when we took the kids for a holiday. Huge house, massive pool, three cars. What a dream," he sighed.

Helsinki huffed. "They live on the beach, why they need a pool is beyond me. And who needs three cars? There's only two of them who drive, their son is four!" The band began a new song with a weird techno beat and screeching vocals.

Over the music, Sebastian replied. "So you don't have to swim in the ocean with the sharks, obviously," he nodded to himself. "And something about security, I think Pav said. One of the cars is for Cooper when he's older."

Helsinki nodded. "Right, because everyone's first car should be a Range Rover," she huffed.

"You don't get to have an opinion, Pav and I have supplied all the grandkids for mum and dad so far, and until you have your own you stay in your box, with the weird aunt role. No parenting advice," Sebastian remarked.

"Remind me again who it was you called at three in the morning because the twins were screaming the house down?"

"That was medical, not parenting advice," Sebastian countered. He winced as the music hit new levels of loud and the lights on the stage moved with the bass. "Better go now before they bring out the strobe lights, Fitty," he stood and knocked his sister on the arm, only to be punched in return.

"Fine, but only because I don't feel like pissing myself on the floor of this pub tonight," Helsinki got to her feet and gently put weight back on her left side. Having paid when they ordered at the bar, they pushed their way out of the packed pub and back onto the streets, where it was now dark and starting to snow.

"Right, I need to get home to tuck the kids in, so I'll leave you here, I parked just over there," Sebastian said, hands stuffed in his pockets. "You're good to walk home?"

Helsinki rolled her eyes so hard she saw neurons. "It's a minute walk to the alley behind my building, I'll be fine," she said. "Besides, I've got a baton now."

"Alright, just doing my bit as a good big brother," Sebastian surrendered. "Call mum yeah? And maybe leave the house more than once a week? I meant it when I said we were all worried. We just want you better, Hels."

Helsinki looked at her shoes, blonde curls hanging down and masking her face. "Sure, I'll try. Thanks Sebbie, for today. I mean it," she muttered. Helsinki hated to admit it, but she did feel better for getting out of her flat and having a good time, even if it wasn't the same as it was a few months ago.

"Awe, I knew my company was worth it!" he cheered, scooping his sister into a hug.

"Put me down before I ruin your hopes of a fourth child," Helsinki lowly said into his ear, arms pinned to her side.

"With one leg?" Sebastian squeezed tighter. Helsinki's hair was stuck between her trapped arms and her brother's bicep, sharply pulling at her scalp until she was blinking away irritating tears.

"I've got good torque on this, do you want to find out?" Helsinki threatened. Her brother put her down and pulled his keys from his pocket. Gratefully, she shook out her hair which had dried from it's earlier shower and now hung around her shoulders in a thick mass of indecisive waves and curls.

"I'll call around again soon," he said. "And mum and dad are going to pick you up on Christmas Eve to drive up to Nan and Grandad's."

"Sure, fine," Helsinki waved him off, shuffling in the direction of her building. "Cheers, see you later! Tell the kids I said hi!"

"Bye!"

And then Helsinki was alone again, wandering back to her couch and bed and wallowing. She paused in the street briefly to gather her thoughts, most of which had come suddenly crashing down around her. Depression was heavy, like a sodden cloak resting on her shoulders. This must have been what Atlas felt like, Helsinki absently thought as she began to put one foot in front of the other once again. She turned into the alley, digging in her bag for her keys, which must have grown legs because she couldn't find them in the depths of her bag.

"For fucks sake, where're they?" she muttered to herself as her fingers found the exact same piece of paper as they had for the last twenty seconds. A shuffling noise too loud to be a rat made her freeze and her fingers tightened around the first thing her grip landed on. Thankfully, it wasn't a crumpled receipt. Helsinki hoped it was just a fox, or a stray cat going through the bins.

She slowly drew the switchblade from her bag, phone in her other hand. She wished she hadn't dismissed her brother so quickly now, even if Sebastian was a massive wuss and probably would have sacrificed her so that he could make a getaway. A large figure loomed out of the dark, beside the back door to the building. Residual light from the street just meters away lit up a man's face, elderly and dimmed by the brim of a massive hat.

"Oh good it's just a crackhead. Or a paedophile," she sighed in relief that the person wasn't more threatening, like a thief with a gun, or a woman in bare feet.

"I am neither," an odd accent replied to her sighed words. Unfortunately, the person didn't offer any more information and had failed to deny being any of the other unsavory things found in alleyways, like rapists, or organ traffickers. Helsinki clutched the knife in a sweaty palm. If she was about to be robbed by a foreigner, she'd like to at least have put up a fight.

"Look, I don't have anything for you," she lied. She had a lot of drugs on her. "Let me go and I won't call the police," she bargained.

The man ignored her. "Helsinki Felicja Alphecca?" he asked. Helsinki fought to keep her face still and not screech in alarm about a creepy stranger in an alley knowing her full name.

"No, but she's a neighbour. I can go get her for you," Helsinki said, trying to dodge around the tall man and get inside, only for him to move and block her, faster than any old man should be able to move.

"That won't be necessary, seeing as I'm speaking with her right now," the man said.

"Uh, you're not but I can go and get her," Helsinki shuffled to the side awkwardly. She'd look a right mess if they found her body in the alley in the morning. One leg and lopsided breasts, a catastrophe. What would the police think? And she hadn't even read that stupid book her mother had given her, what a shitty daughter everyone would think she was.

The man held out some sort of stick, quite threateningly, at her. Helsinki flicked the knife out and brandished it. "Look pal, I don't know where you get off, but cornering girls in alleys isn't a good look, and neither will be me kicking your arse, so move it."

"You'll do quite well, I believe," the man reached forward, a long sleeve hanging down enough that Helsinki could see right down into the dark depths of wrinkly hell. She tried to move backwards but misjudged and felt her prosthesis slip on the cold ground, making her stumble and swing the knife as the arm came closer.

"You fucking what-" Helsinki jabbed the knife as his hand came too close for comfort, and lost consciousness as grey painted her vision and a searing pain bloomed like a firework in her side. She fell onto snow dusted concrete in a heap, barely making out the shadow of the large man bending over her as her eyes slid shut.