Trigger Warning: Descriptions of historic sexual assault/abuse

—∞—

I remember the snow, on the way over. Just enough to turn the road into the worst kind of slush. I was actually using the car, for once, due mostly to the weather. If it got any worse, I knew my bike wouldn't be able to handle it, but the car—well, we kept chains in the trunk, just in case. Still, driving there took most of my concentration, as did avoiding a handful of minor accidents. In the parking lot, with the now familiar red and white livery on the building, I was just about on time.

I shook some snowflakes out of my hair when I stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind me.

"Doctor Spiros is waiting in his office." The receptionist gestured down the hall for me.

I knocked first, in case he was working on something.

"Come in." I stepped into his office, looking around, and finding it strangely familiar now. The beanbags. Couches. Pictures around the wall, and the little alcove where he kept his computer.

"Umm… hi."

"It's good to see you again, Miss Christian." His smile was bright and sincere. "Have the holidays been kind to you?"

"I… I guess." I sat on the larger couch, and spread out a little, basking in the warmth of his office. "Elsa got me some nice presents."

"That sounds good. Now, would like some time to prepare yourself, or do you want to start now?"

"I guess I may as well get started. I… well I think I've made some progress… maybe…"

Doctor Spiros gestured for me to continue, taking up his clipboard and pen with his other hand.

"We've been trying all sorts of ideas, and a couple of times I have actually managed to have sex with Elsa. Three times if you count the thing with the toys that was not really an accident. But then a lot of times we tried, and I wanted to, so badly, but—you know—and so I got scared. Or it went away. Or I just felt… wrong? Maybe not the right word for it, because I know sex is meant to be good and healthy and everything, but something about me—or it—or the situation just felt off, even when it shouldn't. And then there's the time I insulted her, kinda by accident, and she nearly slapped me, and then figured out maybe something about my issues, and that's another thing I want to talk about if we have time. And then just before coming here, she got really sad—but I know a couple of tricks when she can't open up, so we agreed to talk another time, but I think that's another 'nother thing to talk to you about, because that one's really, really heavy, and it scares me in ways I don't want to even think about, because I love her, and…"

I took a deep breath. Another.

"And… I'm not ready to face it. Not yet."

"What would you like to start with today?" Doctor Spiros's voice was neutral.

"I guess… I think… well, the sex stuff." I swallowed. "I know I felt like shit after the last time, but… it helped me see some things. I don't want to feel like that again, but I want so much to give Elsa all of my love, in every way I can. I don't want this holding me back anymore. I never did. But I want to break through it."

"Okay," Doctor Spiros shuffled slightly in his seat, leaning forwards as he spoke. "Is there a specific incident you had in mind?"

My mind flashed back to the afternoon on the couch, watching cartoons with Elsa as she got a little handsy. "Yes. Or… like 'starting'?"

"Initiating the act itself?"

"Like actions saying that she wants to, before doing anything like that."

"Then, in as much detail as you like, can you tell me what happened?"

"We were just lying on the couch, watching her cartoons—actually really good series, now I've seen more of it—and under blankets, because it was a bit cold. She was playing with things, through my clothes. Then… then I felt her hand on my stomach… going lower… lower… and just before, well, getting anywhere fun, I feel like it's him. And everything comes crashing down. It all comes back, the threats, the pain. Consequences if I didn't. But she… she just stopped. She hugged me. Helped me ground myself. Told me it was okay."

I sighed and shook my head. What more could I say?

"May I ask what might seem like an odd question?"

"Sure." I shrugged.

"When this happened, and the memories came back, how much were you concentrating on the cartoons, and how much on Elsa's touch?"

"It had just been a pretty epic fight scene, so I guess I was watching the cartoon more than anything else."

"So—and I don't mean this to be negative—Elsa's touch was something of a distraction, or a background event in that moment?"

"Kinda," I shrugged again. "She'd been doing it the whole episode, and I liked it, so… maybe I did let it go into the background."

"Now, miss Christian, if we are concentrating deeply on a task, and something happens in the background, what do our bodies do?"

"I guess it's kind of like an 'autopilot' thing, right?"

"A useful term, yes." His voice was clear and direct; a teaching tone. "Now, if your autopilot, programmed by your instinct and memory, felt someone touching you in a sexual way, what would you do?"

"Fuuuuck…" I drew the word out, because I saw exactly what he was getting at.

"From that response, I'm guessing you understand the implications behind it?"

"Why couldn't I figure it out before?" I gave him an earnest look. "Why am I only getting it now?"

"You've said it before, yourself, even," he smiled at me, with a bit of humour. "Have you asked yourself the right questions, in the right way?"

I shook my head. Because he was right. So very right, and it was showing me the importance of having an external viewpoint.

"With your permission, I would like to try another EMDR exercise on you." He held up his hand to stop me from speaking. "This will be slightly different to last time. It may well be another traumatic memory, but I will also be asking you to contrast it against how Elsa was touching you, and how she cared for you afterwards. I want you to feel the difference between the memories. The emotional experiences you had."

"You need to do the tapping on my palm, and the follow the finger thing for this, right?"

"Yes, miss Christian, I do. If you are not comfortable with that there are other avenues we can explore for this exercise."

"Not uncomfortable," I smiled for him. "Just making sure I remembered it right."

"Good memory then. Now, would you prefer to sit, or stand? Sitting, okay. And how close may I approach. Very well, more than enough. Now—ah, thank you. Is this tapping too strong? No. Excellent. Now, with your eyes, follow my finger, from left to right, and back again. Very good. Now the hard part—Miss Christian, please tell me about a time Hans started, with his hand against your stomach."

I swallowed hard, trying not to get distracted. Following Doctor Spiros's finger, and feeling him tapping my palm. Things to ground me in the moment, even as I thought back to those horrible events. Even some of the less horrible ones, but still bad.

"It's the afternoon. No, evening. We're watching the news, after dinner. He's not really interested in the talk show after, but I am. There's an article about a robotics advance coming up, so I'm interested in learning more. He's holding me close, a little too tight. One hand is playing with my breast. The other is under my shirt. His hands aren't rough, but he's forceful. And he gets what he wants, or I get hurt. His hand goes lower, under my jeans. I know if I don't respond, he'll keep going further and further until I do. I hate it. But I can't stop myself, because if I don't play his games…

"So I lean into him. Just a little. My hand against his crotch, and I can already tell he's excited. He gets off on being powerful. On knowing I'm his. And that I can't do anything about it. But I can rebel in little ways. Spoil things a bit. If I'm too good—too fast—then he'll leave me alone for a bit, thinking maybe I was too excited. It's the biggest lie I ever managed to keep going. But still, I have to take him in my hand. Put my hand under his jeans. I hate doing this for him. The things he does to me. And I know he's going to make me use more than just my hands, because he likes that.

"And I have to. If I don't, he'll take it out on me later. I get punished, and he's creative with it. Hitting just the right places. Things that hurt, but that people can't see without me showing too much skin. But they're also things that won't stop me working, because that would be suspicious. So I do my 'duty' as his wife. I swallow, and he kisses the top of my head. He tells me it isn't so bad, but it would be better if I was actually enthusiastic about these things. But he's satisfied with my performance, so I try to put it out of my mind, and just watch the robotics thing.

"This time, I'm safe. I did what he wanted. But I still remember what happened last time I protested. And the time I tried hurting him. I have to do it, or being defiant might be the last thing I ever do. I hate him so much, and sometimes I wish I had the balls to just run away—but I know he'd find me. Police are good at that. And he sometimes says that if I did, and he found me, no one else ever would."

"That is enough, miss Christian," and Doctor Spiros placed a hand on my shoulder, just for a moment. "I apologise if that was presumptive. I could see the pain you were re-living."

"It was," I swallow hard, and give him a slight nod. "But thank you."

"Now, hopefully this part is easier—I want you to tell me more about that afternoon with Elsa, on the couch. I want you to tell me how it's different."

"We're curled up in the blankets, and she's excited for me to see this show. I mean, I think she's a little scared I might not like it, but still, excited. For me, it's something different. I haven't watched something like this before. Or really spooned on the couch with someone I loved. And it turns out I kind like being the little spoon, even if she's only a little taller than me. We just watch the first episode, and it's fun. She's hugging me, but her hands aren't roaming yet. I've said she could though.

"Then, it's kinda halfway through the next episode, and she's got her hands under my clothes, playing under my breasts, and sort of tickling my stomach. But I like it—I really do. And I know if I want it—because I know for a fact she does—we could just do it here on the couch. Might be a bit awkward to get my arm back like that though. And now there's the fight scene, and she's going for it at the same time. It feels like… like what I just told you. But of course it's wrong.

"Elsa would never hurt me. Never hold anything over me like that. She's been so, so goddamned patient it's kind of infuriating. But she knows I can't, and she just holds me. Points to things around the room so I can name them. Asks what I can hear. She's helping me come back to her. She's not mad. Maybe a little frustrated—disappointed. But she's worried—for me. She just lets me sit there. I kinda fell off the couch. She hugs me, and strokes my hair; calming me. She's so nice, and caring, and I don't know if I deserve love like that. I want to, though.

"And then… then she apologised. It wasn't even her fault. So I tried explaining it. I really did want to, with her. But my body… so she just hugged me, and asked if I wanted to keep watching the cartoons with her. Nothing else. No pressure. And maybe later, we could talk about it…"

"You deserve Elsa—never let your past lie to you about that." Doctor Spiros's voice was stern. "The way she loves you, with such patience, care, and devotion. It's rare, and beautiful. You should cherish it. Cherish her."

"I do." I smile—or try to. "I do all these things for her. To show her that yes, I do, but right now I just… can't. And she understands. She tells me about her fantasies, sometimes. Or about her favourite toys, and what she wants to do, if I'm willing."

"You're very lucky, you know?" There's another smile, all the way to his eyes. "Now, back to the exercise. I need you to think of your feelings during these events. Tell me, with Hans, how did you feel?"

"Scared. Pressured. Afraid of consequences. Like I just had to. Like it didn't matter what I wanted." I let out a small breath. "And I guess more than a bit helpless."

"Now tell me, what did you feel with Elsa?"

"Happy. Warm. Obviously a bit horny. Like I wanted to, and it mattered. Then ashamed that I couldn't. That she spent all this energy just comforting me instead. But it made me feel so happy!" I hadn't meant to shout, and it didn't distract from the tears running down my cheeks anyway.

"Did Elsa tell you how it made her feel?"

"She… actually, she did. A bit later." I knew he was getting at something important. "She told me about her frustration, and how she was happy just to be with me. Even if we never had sex. I still don't understand that."

"She loves you." Doctor Spiros gave me a little smile. "More than you see, I think. Perhaps more than you can accept, right now. And that's okay."

"Really?" I gave him a searching look, drying my tears with the back of my hand.

"Elsa is offering you all of her love. Whether or not you can accept that much love and openness is up to you, but it's there for you. From what you've told me, you love her just as strongly, in your own way. Love can be expressed in many ways, not all of which we understand. Things like giving unprompted gifts. Helping each other with difficult things. Simply spending quality time together. There are many kinds of love as well. Familial, sisterly or brotherly. Parent to child. Adoration. Romance. Deep friendships. Compassion for others. Being altruistic—Charity."

I just stared at him. "It's a lot to take in."

"It is," he agreed. "People have written entire books about it, and still not managed to convey everything." A hint of sorrow and regret entered his voice. "And now, I hate to do this, but I think our time for this session is well past."

I looked at the clock above his alcove. Definitely past time. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"

"No, miss Christian. Healing is valuable, and has no set timetable. I will merely have to apologise to my next client on your behalf." He gave me that same charming smile. "He will understand."

I made to leave, but Doctor Spiros gestured for me to wait.

"Once again, I have to ask about how you are feeling, before you leave."

"Not great," I was able to admit it, at least. "Going back like that, not good memories. But… I can use the little recovery room, right?"

"Any time that you need it."

"Thank you. I'll see you next time."

"Keep well, miss Christian."

I made my way to the little room at the end of the hall, putting the do not disturb sign over the handle of the door. They had a different brand of hot chocolate now, but I decided it was still better than coffee. I also remembered that I needed to call Elsa. To tell her about—well if—I'd made any progress. So I just took five minutes. Ten. Sitting there in the big, plush chair, sipping my chocolate, and trying to think. To process. Because the memories were horrible, but putting them next to Elsa's actions—night and day. So much that I'd missed.

I rang her. "Hi, Elsa."

"Hello, Anniken—ugh. Ow." I heard her wince from something.

"You okay?"

"Muscle cramps. They have warnings about this, sometimes. Because I will skip treatments."

"But you're actually okay?"

"Anna, really, I'm fine. It just hurts, is all." I could almost see that odd, wry smile of hers. "Tell me, are you okay?"

"Honestly, not as bad as last time," I sighed heavily. "But it's not fun, and I don't really understand why it makes me tired."

"These emotions, I am assuming they are very intense when you tell your therapist. And afterwards you are drained."

"That's a better word, yeah," I agreed with her, then took another sip of my chocolate. "Drained. But… why?"

"Emotional stamina, I think, is the best term I have found. You can only feel things so intensely for so long, before you become numb to them, or your body backs down."

"How do you even…"

"I'm learning things, trying to help you." Her voice was cheerful. "Because I know it is probably hard for you to study these things, I will do it for you."

"I love you. I wish you could be here, instead of…"

"I know it is hard, Anna." I could hear the struggle in her voice. "There are times I wish you could help me here, too."

"Really?" I was surprised. She'd never said anything like that before.

"It would be hard to see, I think. To watch all this. But having a true friend at my side… it would make it easier, for me."

"You… you never said anything. I thought—"

"But you saw. At my worst, and you picked me up. I was scared of that—of how much it would hurt you to see me like that."

"Idiot." She laughed.

"I love you too, Anna. Drive safe on the way home."

"I will." I drained the last of my chocolate. "Should we order in tonight?"

"Pick it up on your way home, I think. The weather's awful here."

"See you soon?"

"When I get home." I could almost hear her smile. "I will give you giant hug, and then you can be little spoon."

"You're the best."

"Bye, Anna."

—∞—

Joan and Tina are staring at me, slightly shocked. I realise I might not have toned it down enough for them.

Tina cocks her head slightly, trying to look at me differently, I guess. "That sounded… it sounds… hard? to talk about all that stuff."

"It was," I admit it to them. "Sometimes it still is."

"But you did it." I hear something like pride in Tina's voice. "You told your story."

"I did. I am." I give them a little smile. "Elsa's story too."

"Well, yeah," They're both giving me that look, but it's Joan speaking this time. "But so much of this is about you—I mean, in a good way—not just Elsa."

"My life was so much richer, just for having known her." I can't help the wistful little smile. "And I do miss her, but I've had to move on. Grieve. Heal. I had a family to care for. And speaking of caring for family, you two should be going to sleep now. School tomorrow."

"Mom?" I can hear it in her voice, that little plaintive note. "Please?"

I stand, then turn so I can pull the covers all the way up to her chin again, tucking her in tight. I brush her hair, and give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She smiles, and snuggles tighter under the covers. I know she's holding Tina close. "Miss Belafont, would you like…?" I leave the offer open.

"It's okay. I'll be brave for her." And that is totally not what I was expecting. I guess Kristoff isn't the only one she told about her fears.

"Goodnight." I close the door behind me, hoping I haven't given my daughter new nightmares. I wonder how Tina has become her protector in that realm. I'm not sure how I even feel about that.

I pad down the hallway to my room—our room. Kristoff's waiting for me, ready with a hug, and calming words. It's all I need, and I'm glad he's there. It doesn't take long for us to fall asleep too. I'm just too tired for anything else tonight, and that's okay too. There's always tomorrow.