Crawl out of the shadows
The feeling of a hand slightly shaking his arm woke Marshall up from his deep slumber. It took a moment for him to register where he was and what was going on, but the antiseptic smell and soft beeping in the background brought him back to consciousness faster than the voice calling his name by his side.
He raised his head and quickly checked on Elsa, making sure she wasn't the one needing him. He breathed out in relief when he noticed she was still sound asleep. Instinctively, he tightened his hold on Elsa's hand and the tingling numbness of his fingers told him he had been sleeping on his forearms for far too long. Wishing to get rid of the tiredness, he scrubbed his face as he drew in a shaky breath.
"Marshall?" Gerda's voice said by his side and only then he remembered someone had woken him up.
He sat up straighter in the uncomfortable chair, tried to ignore the numbness in his arms, and turned to look at the old woman with an apologetic smile. He would've liked to pretend he hadn't been asleep for long, but his face and slight confusion told a different story.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, clearing his throat in the process. "What time is it?"
"It's almost seven…" Gerda said, checking her watch just to be certain.
He still had an hour left of his shift, but he guessed Gerda being by his side meant he ought to give a report and leave as soon as Nielsen showed up. Deep down he was thankful it had been Gerda the one who found him asleep and not Nielsen. It didn't erase the shame, but at least Gerda wouldn't scold him the way the doctor would.
"How was her night?"
Looking back at Elsa, Marshall's mind drifted back to the episode that had taken place only a few hours before. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't unsettled by it. Elsa's fear couldn't be attributed to her confusion alone. What she's said and the scars he'd seen proved there was more to Elsa's past than he had once believed. The voice at the back of his head insisted Elsa had meant every word and he needed to find a way to help her.
Tightening the grip on her hand once again, he thought about his options. Obviously Gerda was the easiest one. He was on her good side and she'd answer his questions. At least she wouldn't ignore them. However, deep down he didn't want to give the poor woman a new reason to worry. Her daughter's health was clearly affecting her own and every day she looked thinner and older than the first time he'd met her.
"Marshall?" Gerda called his name again, unsure what his silence meant. When he turned back to her, he could see deep concern marring her expression.
"It was okay," he lied. Elsa's health had remained stable despite the incident after all.
"Are you sure?" She asked, her eyes fixed in his hand still holding onto Elsa's.
Nodding his head, he offered her a small smile and, reluctantly, let go of the cold hand. "I'm sure. She woke up for a few minutes, too confused to make sense of what was going on. She fell back asleep soon after." He then stood up and offered Gerda the empty chair.
She looked at him, debating whether it was worth asking anymore questions. An uncomfortable silence stretched for a minute but at the end Gerda took his place next to Elsa. It was clear she didn't trust his word. He was a terrible liar after all. But he needed some more time; someone to clarify a few things for him, before concerning Gerda with his worries.
Nielsen walked into the room soon after, putting an end to the awkward moment. The doctor shared a few words with him and Gerda before asking him to step out of the room. With no reason nor strength to contradict the doctor, he walked out of the room in complete silence.
Eyes fixed on the tiles under his feet, he walked out of the ICU, stopping only when he reached the small waiting room outside the unit. He debated whether it was best to go home once and for all or wait for Nielsen there. No matter how tired he was, his head was a mess, and he doubted he'd get any sleep unless he talked to somebody. Sadly, his options were narrowed to either Nielsen or Anna.
Talking to Anna was fairly simple. She reminded him of Elsa at times, despite having opposite personalities. Though he doubted Anna could give him any relevant information concerning her sister's medical history. The old doctor, on the other hand, would be willing to answer a few questions as long as they were related to Elsa's recovery —or so he hoped. For that reason alone, and despite his better judgement, he decided to stay.
Glad to find the small room empty, he sat down and welcomed the silence. Elsa's room was rather quiet, but the beeping of the machines had a way of messing with his head after a few hours.
As he waited, it didn't take long for his mind to replay the events from the previous night. He couldn't stop thinking about the small scars marring Elsa's arms and the fact he had never noticed them before. He guessed it wasn't surprising, given that he had missed the small fact of her being able to control ice and snow. It did unsettle him, however, to think it was one more thing Elsa had been keeping hidden and dealing with on her own. It made him wonder if she had ever tried to open up about it, only for him to be too caught up in his own world to notice.
His thoughts eventually took him back to the night they met and the weeks that followed. Perhaps the disappointment and resignation he had seen in her eyes back then were rooted in years of struggle and exhaustion rather than the effort of dealing with the indifference of unsympathetic tourists. The thought alone made him feel worse about having taken advantage of her good predisposition at the time.
Voices outside the room caught his attention, pulling him back to the present. The moment he recognised Nielsen's voice among them, he stood up and walked into the hallway to intercept him. "Dr. Nielsen," he said, unintentionally startling both doctor and nurse when he opened the door. "I need to talk to you."
The doctor sent him a disapproving glance but nodded nonetheless. "Likewise," he said, signalling to him to step back into the room to have a word.
The door closed behind Nielsen, and in a low imposing voice he beat Marshall to the conversation. "I heard someone disobeyed a clear order during the night. You needlessly risked the well-being of our healthcare team and my patient."
"W- what?" Taken aback, Marshall stuttered. The last time he'd been on the receiving end of that tone of voice things hadn't ended well for him.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Nielsen continued, "I'm torn between kicking you out of here or congratulating you for keeping things under control despite the mess you made."
"I can explain," Marshall said urgently. The prospect of being forced to leave Elsa's side, now of all times, hitting him like a bucket of cold water. "The restraints weren't helping. She was losing control."
"And physically restraining her with your hands —while putting yourself at risk, may I add— was better…" The doctor stifled a humourless chuckle, his expression betraying his frustration. "How, exactly?"
"She was not going to believe a word I said being tied up. I was trying to—" He stopped as soon as he saw Nielsen's expression. Something in his eyes told him that no matter what he said or how he tried to justify his choices, the doctor wouldn't budge. Running his hands through his hair, Marshall tried to calm down and find the words to change his mind. "Nielsen, please, you can't kick me out. I never– Elsa is… She's—"
"I don't need you explaining to me how you feel," Nielsen interrupted, placing a hand on Marshall's shoulder. "All I need is for you to stop wearing your heart upon your sleeve and focus when you're inside that room. I need to trust you'll make wise choices while you're in there, Marshall."
"I couldn't just sit there, watch her struggle with the restraints, and do nothing about it."
Nielsen ran a hand down his face, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. "She ripped the IV from her arm. She almost fell out of the bed. The ice was—" He stopped his rant, sighing deeply in order to keep calm. "Grab your things and go home."
"No, no." Anger coursed through Marshall as he tightened his fists in a weak attempt to remain calm himself. He would deal with Nielsen's disappointment and fight Kai if it meant being allowed to stay. He was already used to it all. He wouldn't walk away. "She needs someone by her side. She's not okay. You can't kick me out."
"I'm not kicking you out," Nielsen replied with a calmness Marshall wasn't expecting. "I can see you're exhausted. Grab your things, go home and sleep. Maybe then you'll start thinking straight." He gripped his shoulder a moment longer, tightening his hold as if to convey reassurance before finally letting go. As he was picking up the folder he had thrown onto one of the chairs at the beginning of their conversation, he added, "Be thankful I'm not planning on telling Kai any of this."
Marshall blinked a few times, unsure what had happened. Having worked with Nielsen before, he knew he rarely let things slip. But for some unknown reason, he was letting him off the hook now. "You'll let me stay by Elsa's side tonight?" Marshall asked, not entirely convinced.
Nielsen looked at him and suppressed a laugh. "Despite what you might think, I hold you in high esteem, Marshall. I know you've made mistakes over the years, but I trust your heart is in the right place."
Breathing out in relief, Marshall nodded.
"Besides," the doctor said, suddenly more serious than a moment before. "Gerda is a dear friend of mine and I know how much this situation is affecting her. Kicking you out would only bring more problems than solutions. Just promise me you'll stick to the rules and orders in place."
Marshall knew it was best to simply agree with the doctor and walk out before he changed his mind. That way he'd be able to stay by Elsa's side which was all it mattered. He could try to find the truth and a way to help her once everything settled. But he couldn't do it. Not when promising something like that meant staying back, watching everything unfold as a mere witness for who-knows how long.
"Marshall, do you promise?" Nielsen asked when the silence stretched more than he would have liked.
Making up his mind, Marshall hoped he was doing the right thing. "Not until we find a better way to help Elsa."
"Hålkesen, are you kidding me?" he asked, dropping the professionalism that characterised him.
"You can't strap her to a bed and expect her to understand what needs to be done," he tried to reason. "She's panic-stricken."
"Of course she's scared. She spent her childhood inside clinics and hospitals," he retorted. "As we said before, it's a delicate matter. She needs time, but she'll be okay."
I won't live like this. Elsa's voice echoing in his head told him otherwise. He closed his eyes, in a vain attempt to get rid of the memory. Elsa hadn't meant for him to hear. Her voice had been too low as if she was making a resolution.
Shaking his head, Marshall tried to focus. "The scars," he finally said, unsure of how to find the answers he needed. "The old ones she's got all over her forearms. Those are track marks, aren't they?"
Nielsen blinked a few times, surprised by the inquiry. "That doesn't concern you."
"How many times has she been sedated or– or connected to IV lines?"
"Please, Hålkesen, focus on what truly matters." Putting the folder under his arm, Nielsen aimed for the door, ready to put an end to their conversation.
"Elsa matters," countered Marshall indignantly.
The doctor's eyes softened as he let go of the door. He found it difficult to fight against his reasoning. "Marshall…"
"She'd rather die than go through this again, Nielsen." Perhaps if he knew the extent of Elsa's misery he would help him. "She said so herself. I've got no idea what this is, all I know is I won't take any chances." He was getting mad again, he needed the old man to listen and understand something needed to be done.
He anticipated surprise, but what he didn't expect to see in the doctor's eyes was the pain and concern that followed, telling Marshall everything he needed to know: Whatever Elsa had gone through was bad enough for her claims to be taken seriously.
Keeping momentum, he continued, "you can't expect me to go home and pretend what I've seen, what she's said to me, doesn't matter, Nielsen." The doctor's silence pushed him forward. "If you can't promise me you'll find a better way to help her, then the least you could do is tell me what's happened to her. So I can at least help her deal with this torture."
"Please, Marshall," Nielsen urged, his voice low and laced with ambivalence. "There are other things to—"
"I'm not going home until you do."
Taking off his glasses, Nielsen scrubbed his eyes as he debated what was best to do. He breathed in deeply before agreeing to his request with a nod. "Sit down," he instructed.
Looking at the row of chairs behind him, Marshall shook his head. "It's not necessary."
"Yes, it is." The seriousness in Nielsen's voice caught him by surprise. "You clearly care about this girl and what I'm about to tell you might bring out the worst in you. Sit down and please don't make me regret this."
Anna felt a familiar boredom settling in despite her best efforts to keep distracted. Breathing in and out in a failed attempt to get rid of the feeling, she glanced at the clock and sighed in frustration when she noticed two hours had gone by.
Even if spending time inside the clinic's waiting area had become a constant in her life lately, she hated how it was always accompanied by a deep-seated worry. To make matters worse, every day she was left behind on the other side of those glass doors, anxiously awaiting news about her sister.
Just like every other day, she had tried to find an excuse to be allowed inside the ICU. Driving her mother-in-law to the hospital was meant to ease Kristoff's burden, allowing him to sleep a bit longer before his shift at the factory. Deep down, however, Anna had hoped Gerda or Nielsen —or whoever made the decisions around there— would let her see her sister, even for just a few minutes. Elsa had woken up the day before, yet so far only Gerda, Kai, and Marshall had been allowed in to see her. While Anna understood the reasoning behind the rules in place, it felt incredibly unfair to be left outside, not even permitted in the small waiting area just outside the unit.
Standing up, she walked around the waiting room. She drank some water and even poured some to the small plant by the window. She took short steps, hoping time would somehow start moving faster. Part of her envied Kristoff; at least he had a responsibility to distract him while they waited for their chance to see Elsa. And it was In moments like this that she regretted not attending more classes earlier in the semester.
Another fifteen minutes went by and she got fed up with waiting. Walking over to the reception desk, she asked the man filling in for Andrea if he could at least let her into the ICU waiting room. To her dismay, he refused, insisting that the rules were there for a reason. Anna forced a smile, suppressing the urge to smack him in the face and turned back towards the main door. She'd rather face her boredom outside than be trapped in a room filled with anxious faces.
Once outside, she breathed in the brisk autumn air. The weather had shifted drastically in the last few weeks, leaving the warm days behind. At first, she had welcomed the grey skies, feeling they matched the sombre mood of everyone around her better. But as the nights had become colder, thoughts of Elsa filled her mind, reminding her of the Autumn days she had planned to spend with her sister at the mountain.
As soon as her thoughts drifted back to Elsa, the fleeting calm brought by the cool air vanished. Anna knew Gerda would care for her sister better than anyone else could, but a nagging fear still lingered. Now that her sister was awake, would the other doctors bother her? Would they take advantage of her vulnerable state? Just the thought made her stomach churn, intensifying her longing to see her.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady herself. It was only a matter of time; the worst was behind them. At least, that was what she desperately wanted to believe. She closed her eyes again, relishing the sharpness of the cold air, imagining it was Elsa's presence when someone brushed past her, nearly knocking her off balance.
"Hey!" Anna exclaimed, irritated at whoever had collided with her. She might have been in the way, but that didn't excuse being shoved.
Annoyed by the rudeness, she scanned the area for the culprit. In the distance, she spotted Marshall walking fast towards the car park. For a moment she thought about letting him go, it was useless to try to talk to him when he was in a bad mood. But then she remembered that, despite his brusque demeanour; he wasn't typically rude. He wouldn't push someone aside, not even accidentally, unless something was wrong. Concerned by what might be troubling him, Anna hurried after him.
By the time she reached him, he was already by his truck. A short man stood next to him, talking even when Marshall didn't seem to notice, too absorbed in trying to open the driver's door. Curiosity got the best of Anna and she approached them quietly.
"In case you ever need help, sir," the small man said, extending a booklet towards Marshall, who continued to ignore him, still struggling with his keys.
"Sir," the man repeated, tapping Marshall's shoulder with a smile.
Anna winced, expecting Marshall to lash out. But despite the sour glare he shot the man, he took the booklet without a word.
"God bless you," the man said with a content nod before walking away.
Only then did Anna realise he was a missionary going about his day. She felt a wave of relief seeing that Marshall had kept himself in check, even when he seemed to be clearly upset.
"Why do they waste their time with this?" she heard him mutter as he inspected the booklet before flinging it aside.
"Because they honestly think they can offer you salvation," Anna said, loud enough for him to hear her as she picked it up.
"Goddamnit!" Marshall exclaimed, startled by her presence. The sudden jolt made him drop his keys, which clattered on the floor and under the truck.
"Not so loud. You might offend him…" Anna chuckled, glancing around to see if the man was still nearby. "Or God," she added with a smirk.
"I doubt there's a God up there," Marshall said in between huffs, as he knelt down, reaching for the keys.
"You never know." Anna leaned against the side of the truck, the booklet still in her hand.
"There better not be," he said when he finally retrieved the keys. Wasting no time, he stood up and went back to his task. The seriousness in his voice told Anna it was best not to insist on the topic.
She watched him struggle with the lock, muttering all kinds of profanities in the process. Anna was relieved that at least he'd kept those to himself while the missionary was around. After failing to unlock the car for a third time, he began pulling from the handle so hard it worried Anna he'd rip it right off.
"You stupid idiot," he mumbled when the door still wouldn't budge. "Get a grip."
Even when she tried to keep a cool exterior, seeing Marshall so out of sorts troubled Anna deeply. She couldn't ignore what she'd read about his explosive disorder, nor could she shake the feeling that something bad had happened at the hospital to set him off.
Not being able to hide her concern any longer, she asked, "Are you okay?
"No, I'm not." Marshall replied in a heartbeat, surprising and unsettling Anna all the more.
"Is Elsa okay?" At the mention of Elsa's name, Marshall froze. It was just for a fraction of a second, but enough for Anna to notice.
"Marshall?" Anna insisted, dread creeping into her voice.
"I don't know," he finally said, avoiding her gaze. "Could you please leave?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" She grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. "What happened to her?"
"Please, leave me alone, Anna." He yanked his arm from her hold.
"You can't just tell me you don't know if Elsa's okay and then expect me to walk away," she said indignantly.
"Nothing happened," he insisted, finally meeting her eyes. His eyes, red and strained, carried the weight of barely contained worry. "Leave." His voice wavered, fighting to keep his emotions in check.
"No."
"Just leave!" He slammed his fist against the metal frame of the truck, the impact sending a jolt of pain up his arm. "Fuck!"
"You're scaring me…" Anna murmured, as she watched him shake his hand. "What's going on?"
He exhaled heavily, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the truck's frame. "I can't mess this up," he began to say, as he tapped his head in a vain attempt to release his pent-up frustration. "I can't let anyone see me lose my shit. I won't forgive myself if I can't be there for her… But you won't leave me alone, and this piece of shit won't work!" He struck the door again, the metallic bang reverberating among the other cars.
Taking a step back, Anna wondered if it wasn't best to leave. Gerda or Nielsen would eventually let her know if something serious had happened to her sister. But the raw pain written on his face, as well as the tremors running through his body, held her back. If she let him go, she feared she might only hear about him again in the news —perhaps involved in a car crash or taking his anger out on someone else. Despite her rational mind urging her to walk away, she decided to try one more time to help him. "You can't drive like this. You're shaking."
"I know! I know!" he snapped, his voice rising. "But if I stay here, I might lose it. And if I lose it—" His throat constricted, choking back the tears. He then leaned heavily against the car, his forehead pressed into the cool metal as he scrubbed his hands through his hair repeatedly. "I can't be that guy. Not now, not when Elsa needs me," he mumbled when the lump in his throat allowed him to.
Once again, Anna hesitated on what was best to do. Even when Elsa's sickness had brought them closer —in an unusual kind of way— Anna didn't know how far she could push until he snapped.
Taking a couple of steps closer, Anna hoped she was doing the right thing. She silently wished her sister would be there to help her calm him down. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. "Marshmallow, give me the keys. You won't be able to help her if you kill yourself in a car accident."
He paused, looking at her once again. The weight of her words hung heavily in the air and seemed to clear his head, if only a little. He let go of his hair and gave Anna the keys. He had scraped his scalp with them in the process but didn't seem to notice.
She stood there, holding the keys close to her chest and wondering what step was best to take next. Making up her mind, she asked him to step back and tried to open the car's lock. To her surprise, she was successful in the first try. As soon as she inspected the keys, she guessed he must have been using the trunk keys all along. She sighed in relief, thankful she had stayed; his mistake only proved he wasn't in the right mindset to drive.
"Let me drive you home," she offered, unsure what else she could do for him. He tried to refuse, but she insisted. "It's no bother. I'm also willing to listen if you need to talk to someone…"
Marshall looked down, running his hand through his hair once again. She waited for him to argue or refuse, but he didn't. Anna took his silence as his way of saying yes and climbed into the driver's seat and unlocked the passenger's door.
It took a while, but Marshall got in the vehicle in the end. Slamming the passenger's door close, he leaned back on his seat and let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," he said, his voice laced with sadness.
Anna offered him a sympathetic smile and finally stopped to look at him. He was a mess, there was no doubt about it. Anger, sadness and worry mingled to the point he could barely hold himself together. It alarmed her, but she did her best to remain calm. One of them had to.
"When was the last time you ate? She asked, unsure of what else to say.
"Does it matter?"
"It does to me. You've spent the whole night looking after my sister after all." She turned on the engine and looked at him with a fake smile trying hard to pretend the worry wasn't consuming her. "Let's grab a bite."
"I'm not hungry," Marshall sighed. "I feel sick, to be honest."
Anna opened her mouth, wanting to ask what had truly happened inside the hospital to set him off like that. But stopped herself short, unsure of the odds of Marshall opening up to her. Once again she remained silent, he'd eventually tell her where to go.
"Out of everyone I've ever known," Marshall began to say when the silence between them became unbearable even for himself. "Elsa's the one who least deserves the pain life has put her through."
Opening her eyes in shock, Anna turned to him. Marshall knew Elsa's life hadn't been easy, but for him to say something like that meant either something terribly bad had happened to Elsa, or he had finally learnt more about her past. "If anyone deserves a break, it's her. But I'm sure things will take a turn for the better, don't you think?" she replied tentatively.
Slightly turning his head in her direction, Marshall spoke, "Nielsen told me about her childhood."
"What about it?" she asked, unsure how much the doctor had shared.
"Everything, I guess… It makes me sick."
There was no doubt in her mind what Nielsen had shared with him. It felt strange to talk about Elsa's childhood with someone besides Kristoff, but she remembered the way she had felt the night Elsa had opened up to her. To say she had felt sick didn't quite do it justice. Even when Elsa hadn't explicitly told her all the gruesome details, it had been enough to make Anna want to crawl out of her skin. She could only imagine what Nielsen had explained to him.
"At first you feel sick," Anna began to say. She didn't feel comfortable talking about it, but the mountaineer was trying to open up. He was making an effort and the least she could do was listen and let him know she understood. "I don't know how much Nielsen has shared with you, but the mere idea of what happened is enough to set you off. You'll want to fix things, eventually, and you'll have no idea where to begin." Taking in a deep breath, she held the steering wheel tightly and tried to remember everything she had gone through since the day she learnt about her sister's past. "After that you'll want to find out more about the people responsible, only to come to understand they're all in the past. In Elsa's past. You'll then feel helpless."
"I'm not sure this is helping," Marshall murmured.
"If you care about my sister the way I think you do, then I doubt there's anything I can say that will make this any easier."
Looking up, Marshall drew in another shaky breath, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm afraid this will be too much for her. Last night—" He sighed once more, stopping mid-sentence.
"What?" asked Anna, concerned.
"...I've never seen her so afraid."
Anna knew there was more he wanted to say, but he had changed his mind. "The only thing left for us to do is find a way to make the pain less painful, the memories less scary…"
"That doesn't help me," he said, suddenly annoyed, as if he had been expecting Anna to have all the answers. "I don't know what's best for her anymore."
"I know. We can't do much to help and it sucks," admitted Anna, understanding his frustration. "You need to get comfortable with just being there for her and hope it's enough."
"What if it isn't enough?" he mumbled.
"What?"
"It doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. "Let's go grab something to eat."
Anna looked at him, suddenly unsettled by his comment, but decided to give him time. If there was something else he'd like to share with her, he would, at his own pace. Feeling glad she had at least done enough to calm him down, Anna began to drive. Perhaps spending time away from the clinic would help them both.
Elsa woke up with a startle in the middle of the morning, surprising both Gerda and Nielsen. He had been discussing with Gerda their options regarding Elsa's recovery, when the younger woman suddenly aimed for the IV line in her arm. It was unexpected, but they managed to calm her down without needing to sedate her—a significant step forward, in Nielsen's opinion.
Gradually, Elsa's drowsiness and confusion began to fade. Although she struggled to grasp even the simplest pieces of information, she seemed to trust Gerda. Her soothing voice and patient demeanour provided comfort amidst the turmoil, giving Nielsen the opportunity to check on Elsa and take notes of any question she was able to answer.
It was clear that Elsa's body resisted even the simplest movements; each breath felt like a struggle, as if the air had turned thick and suffocating. This had initially worried Gerda, but Nielsen remained calm, reminding her that the first few days were the hardest and that Elsa would eventually come out of that state.
As Elsa lay in her hospital bed, grappling with both physical pain and emotional turmoil, Gerda remained by her side. Keeping her injured arm away from Elsa's line of sight, but sitting close enough for her daughter to feel her presence.
After an hour, when Nielsen had excused himself and left them alone, Gerda noticed Elsa looking at her. Though her eyes were unfocused and not quite like their usual self, there was enough clarity for Gerda to sense that something was on her mind.
"Is there anything you need, dear?" Gerda asked, blinking back tears. During the first few nights, Gerda had feared she might never see her daughter again; being here now, asking if she needed assistance felt like a blessing in comparison to those long nights watching over her.
"Gerda?" Elsa began tentatively, her voice raspy but steady. "What am I doing here?"
Gerda hesitated, her gaze avoiding Elsa's for a moment before she replied in a measured tone. "They're trying to help you, dear. You're sick and you've been through a lot. Trust Dr. Nielsen."
Elsa sighed, frustration taking over the confusion.
"I wish I could explain everything, Elsa," Gerda said, as she extended her good arm to brush a strand of hair from her daughter's face. She tried to pretend the way Elsa flinched didn't affect her and continued, "Right now, the most important thing is for you to focus on getting better."
Elsa nodded, though Gerda could see the gears turning inside her head with unanswered questions. Deep down, Gerda hoped the clinical walls and beeping monitors wouldn't serve as constant reminders of Elsa's confinement.
Taking her time, Gerda smoothed the blanket covering Elsa. Though it was harder with just one hand, she managed to arrange it comfortably. When she turned back to her daughter, eager to see if she felt a bit more comfortable, she found that Elsa had fallen back asleep, a reminder that it would take a long time until she made a full recovery. Breathing in deeply, Gerda hoped the next time Elsa woke up things wouldn't feel so frightening.
"How is she?" Anna asked after the waiter delivered their breakfast and left them on their own. They had found a quiet bar near the coastal area, on the other side of town. A much needed change of view for both of them.
"She's awake," Marshall said, placing the cup of coffee back in its saucer.
"That doesn't tell me anything," said Anna, hoping he'd share more about her sister. "Has she talked to you? Is she even aware of what's going on?"
"Not to the fullest, no…"
The reply hung in the air, thick with unspoken fears. Anna remained silent, knowing there was more Marshall wanted to say but he couldn't find the words. So she waited, giving him the time she was certain he needed.
Patience rewarded her when after taking another sip from his coffee, he said, "What if I can't find a way to help her? What if every time I try to help I end up hurting her?"
"How?" asked Anna, as she picked a small sandwich from the plate in the middle of the table. She had been waiting for Marshall to pick some food himself before she did, but it was clear he was too tense to eat anything.
"Reminding her of her past. Abusing her…" He held the cup tightly to the point his fingers turned white. "I'm like them after all."
She stopped with the sandwich mid-air, unsure what he meant. "Like who?"
"I didn't understand what she was trying to tell me last night, but now I do…" he said, his voice trembling slightly. "Whenever I do something medical, it reminds her of them."
"Marshall, no," Anna interjected, her voice firm. "Elsa's sick, and you're doing what you have to do to help her. She'll be thankful it's you the one helping her and not some stranger with dubious intentions. Trust me, there's no one better." She took a bite and thought about it for a bit longer before adding, "Well, perhaps Gerda. I mean, she's always been there for Elsa. But you know what I mean."
When he didn't reply, she called his name, wanting to make sure he had listened. "Marshall?"
"I can't stop thinking about it," he admitted, his voice cracking. Tears began to well in his eyes, blurring his vision. "What if I trigger something? What if I make it worse? I don't want to be a reminder of all the shit she went through."
"Hey…" Anna called out, gently placing a hand on his arm.
He shook his head, trying to regain control. "It's fine," he said, not wanting to let her see too much of his softer side. "I wish I could take away her pain. That's all."
She let go of his arm, understanding he didn't like the extra attention. "You can't do that, Marshall. None of us can. Just being there for her, showing her she's not alone… that's enough."
"I hope so."
"Talking about being there for her," said Anna after a moment. "Did you talk to Nielsen about me visiting her?"
Avoiding her eyes, he shrugged.
"You said you'd try to convince him."
"No, I didn't," he argued in his defence.
"I need to see her, Marshall. Promise me you'll try to convince him."
"I'll see what I can do."
First of all, let me say that I'm incredibly relieved I'm finally posting this chapter, but I am also ashamed. I can't believe time went by so fast, I left you guys hanging for so very long that I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. I mean, I'm happy I finally found an order to the ideas I had in my head, but I can't help feeling this chapter must be incredibly disappointing after so long. I fought tooth and nail to add a scene where the sisters reunited—or better yet the siblings reunited— but everything felt so rushed and out of place. I had ideas and scenes here and there but I couldn't find a coherent way to incorporate things and make the story keep its rhythm. In part, it's because the last few months I had a lot of trouble sitting down to write. Not only my story but reviews and comments as well. I'm actually ashamed about that as well. I owe some of you so many replies. I'm not lying when I say I'll get back to you. I swear.
Anyway, after some time doing other hobbies, and a bit of introspection, I realised that what I wanted to do was simply not possible. I couldn't force myself to write when I wasn't in the right mood for it and I couldn't put everything I wanted in just one chapter… I also understood that if a character needed more story time, then the character would get more story time. I tried so hard to push Marshall to the side in this chapter, but I came to realise that it's best to give him his space. His future arch will make more sense if he plays his role to the fullest now. And that's why this chapter focused so much on him.
I also moved house. Lost a job. Got a job. And turned 31 in the middle of all of this. This isn't relevant in the slightless, but I want to share that as well. So… yeah.
If there's anyone around, thank you for staying. I hope you're not covered in spiderwebs and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I also hope it wasn't entirely disappointing.
Have fun reading!