Need you here, now

Chapter one

From afar

It was a cold, dreary August afternoon. Elsa wore black.

It looked like it had rained the night before, but the clouds above their heads seemed as if they'd hold, for now. That was good, at least – not just for the small crowd gathered out in this field, but also for the two freshly dug graves, as well.

A throng of people were gathered around the coffins – uncles, aunts, old friends and such. Elsa kept her distance, knowing she'd have to do a lot more talking than she was comfortable with if she drew near them. She didn't know most of these people all that well anyway, and with one exception, she'd prefer to deal with her grief alone.

It still didn't seem real to her yet. Yes, the coffins were right there, side by side, but it didn't feel possible. How could they be so concretely gone this soon?

She clenched her fist, digging her fingernails into her palm. Of course it's possible. You haven't seen them since Christmas, you don't get to say that!

She hung her head. This was the truth, she had estranged herself from them, but she'd been damn sure that she hadn't had a choice. It wasn't supposed to be permanent, just until she'd…fixed herself, somehow. She should've had more time than this. In any kind of fair universe, she wouldn't have been punished for making the responsible choice.

At least they never found out what's wrong with you.

Elsa winced. Her fingernails dug deeper, turning her palm red.

The crowd was starting to thin out. The last relatives gave their last goodbyes, then slowly trickled away to do whatever else people did at funerals. Soon only one remained.

She stood there, one hand on each casket, barely moving. A few relatives had tried to talk to her, resting a hand on her shoulder and offering some kind words, but she either hadn't responded or offered just enough to convince them to move on. With her head bowed, she hadn't seen Elsa yet, but Elsa had spotted her quickly – that blazing red hair stood out among a sea of black. She looked good.

Instantly, Elsa felt a new wave of self-loathing wash over her.

She looks good? That's your first thought upon seeing her, even at their funeral? Couldn't even wait for the car ride home?

She tried to fight the rising tide of bile in her chest. It was a natural thing to think, after what she'd been through. It was a justifiable concern.

No, it could be justifiable. But you know damn well what it really is.

Elsa shook her head. "That's it, I'm going over there," she muttered to herself. She began marching down the hill towards her sister. The conversation that awaited her would be painful, but standing here conversing with herself was no less so.

As she drew near, her footsteps began to slow. Getting closer to Anna revealed something she had barely addressed in their texts – a vertical scar on the left of her forehead. She couldn't see the stitches yet, but on a scar of that length, there surely would've been. She winced just thinking of how painful it must've been, especially alone in the hospital.

It was little surprise the service had been closed casket. A picture adorned each one, showing their parents' unmarred faces. They could've been taken as recently as a month, or even a few weeks ago. The thought made the pit in Elsa's stomach only tunnel deeper.

Anna appeared to be holding herself together, for the most part. There were tears, of course, but not nearly as many as Elsa knew to expect. Perhaps she hadn't fully processed it all yet, either. She'd hesitate to call that a blessing, but perhaps it would be best if they both had a relatively clear head at the moment, to discuss what was to come. If not, that was fine too. She could fake it.

Elsa held up her phone and studied it, examining the four lines written on the screen. She'd already spent plenty of time on trying to decipher every possible interpretation of the message, but it was a crucial task. She needed to be totally confident about where Anna's head was at right now. Their last substantial conversation had been…well, you know, that one, years ago. She couldn't hope to rebuild anything unless she knew the foundation she'd be working from.

Anna heard her approach and raised her head. Once she realized who it was, her eyes shot open wide. "Elsa," she said, voice shaky.

Elsa offered a faint smile. "Anna," she said. She held up her phone. "I got your…" She stopped when she saw the look on Anna's face.

Anna wrapped her arms around Elsa, buried her face in her chest, and sobbed.

Elsa raised her arms reflexively, then slowly lowered them as Anna embraced her. She gingerly hugged Anna with one, then put her other hand on Anna's hair. "I…it's okay, Anna," she said. "I'm here now."

Anna offered no reply, still weeping openly. Elsa felt her own eyes stinging, and so she wept as well.

Anna was warm, so warm, just as ever. The simple act of hugging her triggered her inner voice as well, guilting her for being even a little happy to hold her, but she dismissed it this time. Right now, there was nothing that could convince her that hugging Anna wasn't the right thing to do.

Elsa's phone had fallen from her hand, and now it lay on the grass. Anna's message still lay upon it, the weeping woman before her serving as punctuation for it.

The service is this Sunday.

Please come home, Elsa.

I don't care about what you told me back then.

I just need you here, now.