Chapter twenty-three

The monster

Beep beep

Beep beep

The lights were blindingly bright, even against her closed eyelids. The sheets were paper thin. The beeping of machinery was constant. It wasn't hard to guess where she was, but why…?

"She's waking up!"

At the sound of Anna's voice, Elsa's eyes shot open. The memories came flooding back in a great torrent.

The hospital had been busy when they arrived, but most of the other patrons seemed to have quieted down now. Anna turned to summon the nurse, but she'd heard her exclamation and was already heading over. She wasn't that old, but her face was well-worn. "There she is," she said in a matronly voice. "How are we doing?"

Elsa stared at her blankly for a moment. Have I been passing out? How much blood did I-

She turned to look at her bandaged and well-dressed hand. Oh right, the stitches. They only gave me local anesthetic, but they said I might still fall asleep if I'm tired enough.

Yeah? Well, guess who didn't.

With great trepidation, she turned to look at Anna, and she felt a pain in her stomach. She looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was a mess, and she'd clearly been crying a lot. Her expression was a turbulent mix of relief, anger, confusion and pain. Elsa opened her mouth for an apology, but Anna silenced her with a glare and a subtle gesture towards the nurse.

"Hello there, Miss Elsa," the nurse said. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful," Elsa said without even having to think about it.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," the nurse said patiently, "but you're in good hands here. How's your hand feeling?"

Elsa looked at her palm. There was a dull, throbbing pain emanating from it in time with her pulse. "Could be worse."

"All right, I'm gonna have you close and open your fist a few times, tell me how that feels," the nurse said.

Elsa did as she said, not even bothering to wince at the pain. She'd asked for it, after all.

"All right," the nurse said after a few flexes. "Looks like there's no permanent nerve damage. You're a lucky woman."

Behind the nurse's back, Anna scowled. "Lucky," she mouthed to herself, clenching her own fist. That one did make Elsa wince.

The nurse turned to Anna, who quickly schooled her face into something more or less neutral. "If you could step outside for a moment, honey, I've got a few questions to ask her. Then I'll give you two a few minutes together, okay?"

Anna nodded dully. She walked to the door and slowly opened it. She turned back and looked at Elsa as she stepped out, and her expression nearly drove Elsa to tears. She'd tried for a smile, but it hadn't come through. All Elsa could see on her face was pain.

The nurse pulled out a clipboard. "Now then, miss Elsa. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst pain you've ever felt, how much pain would you say you're feeling?" she asked.

"Six," Elsa said. The lies came easy when Anna wasn't the one asking. Saying the real number would only cause trouble.

Oh, it's a bit late to worry about that, isn't it? You've done nothing but cause as much trouble as physically possible so far, why stop now?

"Sorry to hear that, hon," the nurse said. "Is there anything we can do to help with that?"

"Not at all," Elsa said truthfully.

The nurse began scribbling down some notes on a clipboard, checking on various machine readings, and asking questions simple enough for Elsa to answer without devoting any serious brainpower to. Elsa looked at her other arm and noticed a tube stuck into it, which she traced back to a blood pack hanging from a stand.

Yeah, that tracks. Anna gives blood, and you take it away. Because of this little stunt, you're getting this instead of a car crash victim. Parasite. Leech. Fucking waste of skin.

She'd never felt this miserable in all her life, even in all her years of isolation. The dull ache of loneliness, the sharp jabs of Carver reading out her parents' final judgment, the burning humiliation of Wes's rejection – none of it held a candle to this white hot hell she had constructed with her own two hands. She wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.

Of course you do, because that would mean you wouldn't have to face the consequences of your actions. But there's nothing that can stop what comes next. In a few minutes, Anna is going to walk through that door, and you're going to tell her that none of this is ever going to work out. That it was your mistake to even try in the first place. That you're going to move back to California and-

No.

The word rang out within her head like a bell, a singular syllable of denial which declared itself with more confidence than any other thought in her head had that morning, and quite possibly for a lot longer than that. She returned to the ultimatum Anna had given her.

"If you did, I don't think I'd ever forgive you."

A lot has changed since then. Maybe she'll be happy to see the last of you after seeing the kind of pain you put her through.

It's not what Anna wants.

It seems cutting yourself wasn't enough to get it through your head that what you're doing is wrong. Some more solitary confinement ought to do the trick.

It's not what Anna wants.

You saw the hesitation in her-

It's not what Anna wants.

The voice in her head continued on, conjuring up a dozen reasons for her to leave, hurling insult after insult at her, but for once it didn't get through. Her obstinate refusal to go against Anna's wishes formed a concrete foundation upon which she could, at last, build a counterargument against that omnipresent voice.

Every time I've taken a step away from Anna, it's been the wrong move. How can I use one mistake to justify another? Maybe what I need to do is turn 180 degrees and sprint the other way.

You tried that, remember? And now here you are. You can't take two steps without falling over.

Then maybe…maybe I just need to stop.

Elsa's eyes widened, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The nurse noticed, but recognized it as a positive change and left her to it.

Stop trying to punish myself for just being myself. Stop fighting every new development, even the positive ones. Stop making every decision as if I'm the only one it affects. And stop acting like I know best, when it seems nothing could be farther from the truth.

That's the worst idea you've ever had! You're saying you want to let go of all control and let the winds of fate decide what happens to you and Anna?

If this is what being in control looks like, then yes. I'm letting the fuck go.

…Fine. Throw caution to the fucking winds, see where it gets you. When it all goes to shit, you'll know who's to blame.

Finally, the voice – her own voice – fell silent. She let her head sink into the pillow and breathed a sigh of relief. The nurse appeared to be wrapping up her work, but Elsa enjoyed each blissful second of silence fate entrusted her with.

"Now then," the nurse said. "Before I go to get your sister, I've got a few more questions for you. Is that okay?"

Elsa looked at the nurse. Though the question sounded innocuous, something about the seriousness of her expression suggested that these questions would be of a different nature to those that had preceded them. "Sure," she said cautiously.

"All right," the nurse said. She sat down in a nearby chair, putting herself on the same level as Elsa. "Is this the first time you've tripped while carrying a box of razors?"

Elsa took her time pondering the question. That had been the story Anna gave the doctor during their chaotic arrival. The nurse hadn't looked like she'd believed it then, and she certainly didn't now – it wasn't hard to see what she was really asking. Yet her tone and posture were both soft, non-judgmental. Elsa recognized that she'd never get a gentler trial run of letting go than this moment right now.

"In a way," she said after a while. "But I've been plenty clumsy before." She raised one hand, showing off her long, pointed nails.

The nurse nodded. "Have you been this clumsy for a long time?"

"As long as I can remember," Elsa said.

"And have you ever been worried you're setting yourself up for an even worse fall?" the nurse asked.

Elsa shook her head. "No," she said. "Not ever." There was some pride to be taken in that, wasn't there?

"All right, well," the nurse said, leaning forward, "I'd like you to have this," she said. She pulled out a card from her breast pocket and handed it to Elsa. It had an address, phone number, and the name Helping Hands written on it. "It's a support group for similarly clumsy people. They've seen it all before, and they can help you."

Elsa studied the card. "I see," she said. "Thank you very much, ma'am."

"Would you like me to give a copy of this to your sister as well?" the nurse asked.

Elsa nodded. "I think that'd be for the best."

"Okay," the nurse said. "Are you ready to talk to her?"

Elsa sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said.

"All right," the nurse said. "I'll send her in."

"Thank you," Elsa said.

The nurse smiled and walked away, heading out the door.

And this concludes the easy questions. This next part is going to be very painful.

Elsa closed her eyes and tried to plan things out, mapping out how the conversation might go. She wasn't sure if there was any way to repair the damage she'd done that night alone, but if there was, it was her duty to find it. And if there wasn't…well, she'd make damn sure it wasn't for lack of trying.

The door opened. Elsa opened her eyes.

Anna slowly walked into the room, looking straight forward. She looked a little bit better, having dried her eyes and flattened down her hair, but the look in her eyes was the same maelstrom of pain and confusion she'd been wearing when she left the room.

"Anna-" Elsa began.

"406," Anna interrupted her.

"What?" Elsa asked.

"You're in room 406." She turned to look at Elsa. "I was in 402."

Elsa's stomach dropped. Any confidence she'd built up instantly vanished.

"Right down the hall, just a couple months ago," Anna continued. "Isn't it crazy how time flies? I even checked in with my old nurse. He's doing well. Wasn't too happy to see me again, but hey, that's only fair, right?"

She paused for a moment, so Elsa spoke up. "Anna, I am so-"

"No," Anna said, holding up a finger. "I don't want to hear it."

Elsa fell silent immediately.

"You did nothing but apologize to me on the ride over here, Elsa," Anna said exasperatedly. "I know you're sorry. I want to know why."

Guilt pulled at Elsa, trying to yank her eyes away from Anna's. She maintained eye contact as best she could. "I wanted to punish myself."

"But why?" Anna demanded with a shout that became a wail halfway through. "Why do you keep doing these things to yourself? Everything was going so well!"

The honest answer to her question, Elsa knew, would only make her angrier, but 'I don't know' wouldn't be any better. "That's why I thought I needed to punish myself."

"You-" Anna ran her hands through her hair and paced back and forth. The look on her face suggested she wanted to either kick something or burst into tears. "I…don't understand, Elsa," she said through gritted teeth. Elsa marveled at her restraint.

"I know, and it's my fault," Elsa said. "I haven't been lying to you, for whatever that's worth, but I haven't told you everything."

Anna pointed a finger at her. "Well, now you're gonna," she said. "Neither of us is leaving this fucking room until we work this shit out."

Elsa took a deep breath. "Yes," she said. "Yes, that's the only way this works. I'm done keeping this to myself." A few more steadying breaths later, she began.

"I…am your older sister. That means it's my responsibility to look after you." Anna opened her mouth to protest, but Elsa raised her palm. "No, I won't take any argument on this one. I know it for a fact. I've known it from the first moment I ever saw you, crying in Mom's arms in this very hospital. Mom and Dad never even needed to say it to me. I knew it instinctively – my job is, was, and always has been to protect you.

"That was easy enough early on. Help you with your homework, check for monsters under your bed, lift your spirits when you were down – not hard, even for a child. But then, when I got older, I realized there was…a problem. I wanted to do things with you that I knew I shouldn't. And that made me into something else. Something that wasn't your sister. Something I had to protect you from."

Anna's eyes widened with understanding. "Yes, you're getting it now," Elsa said. "The monster was never under your bed, was it? Instead, it was sleeping in mine."

"You wouldn't have done anything," Anna insisted. "I know it, and you know it. You never could've brought yourself to."

"That doesn't mean much," Elsa said. "Picture you're a kid, and a middle-aged man is staring at you at the beach. He's grinning and drooling, and he has a hand under his waistband. Even if he never touches you, does that make what he's doing okay? Does he deserve a medal for not actively assaulting you?"

Anna's hand flew to her chest. "That's how you've seen yourself?" she asked. "For all this time?"

Elsa nodded. "Every time Mom or Dad asked me if I'd met any nice boys, or you told me about one you'd met – well, it twisted the knife a little more. I knew exactly what I was supposed to be doing, what the perfect sister would've been doing, and I was the exact opposite of that."

Tears were already pooling in Anna's eyes, and yet there was so much more left to tell. "The dreams were the worst part," Elsa continued. "Or maybe I should say they were the best part. I could do anything I wanted with you in those dreams, so I thought it could be a good outlet. But then they started to turn on me. Sometimes you'd push me away, or shout in disgust. Sometimes Mom would walk in and tell me to get the fuck away from her daughter. And even when nothing happened, I'd wake up in a cold sweat and look around, hoping against hope that it had just been a dream, because if it hadn't…well, that'd be the end of it."

Anna gasped. "Your panic attacks," she whispered.

Elsa nodded. "Remember when I started screaming in the middle of the night?" she asked. "Remember how I couldn't stop apologizing for waking you up?"

She looked down in disgust, a tear falling from her eye. Anna was quietly sobbing now. "That was when I decided I had to make a change. I had to fight the monster. Stab it with the nails I always got so much praise for. Drown its dreams in a cold shower. And if that wasn't enough, see if I could bleed it out." She shook her head. "But it was never enough. It always came back. And even if it never attacked, I couldn't stand to let the monster be happy. I felt it staring out of my own eyes, looking at you and feeling aroused, and I hated it. I wanted it gone, but it wouldn't leave. So I had to leave."

She looked back at Anna. "When I left, I told you that I wanted to fix myself. But that wasn't the half of it. Really, I wanted to become someone entirely different. Someone who could look at herself in the mirror and not see a monster smiling back at her. But I failed. I'm still just the same fuckup from five years ago."

"You're not," Anna said, drying her eyes. "You're not a fuckup, and you're not a monster. You're-"

"Look at me!" Elsa demanded. "I'm in the hospital, dragging through your old trauma, because I couldn't accept that things might be going my way for once! You've done nothing but promise me that this is what you want, that you really do want to be with me, and I can't even let myself believe you! I'd rather throw it all away and go back to being miserable." The energy faded from her voice. "Just like I have been every day, for the past five years."

Anna's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, God," she said.

Elsa nodded. "Yes, you heard that right," she said. "I haven't been happy for one single day since I left you. I've gotten damn good at smiling when I don't want to, but I still haven't figured out how I'm supposed to live without you." She let out a chuckle. "And the worst part is, there's still a voice inside my head telling me to go back there. Some part of me still wants to convince me that I'd be better off leaving you on your own. That if I can't be happy without you…I don't deserve to be happy ever again."

She clenched her fist. "But I can't do it anymore," she said. "I can't go back to living like that. I need to be here, with you. I'm not complete without you, I'm just an empty husk. I need to know that you're happy, and I can't bear the thought of you being alone in that empty house. So even if it's wrong for me to love you like this, even if every second of my life has been spent trying stop myself from getting any closer to you…I can't anymore. I just can't." Her shoulders slumped, and she sank into the hospital bed.

Anna ran to her side, tears streaming from her eyes. She bent over the bed and hugged Elsa, and Elsa hugged her back with her good hand. "I'll help you get through this, Elsa," she whispered. "I promise."

Elsa smiled. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much."

More tears were loosened from Elsa's eyes by the hug. Anna was always so warm. Whenever she was in her arms, it just felt right, as if this was where she was meant to be. She'd wasted so many years trying to pretend she didn't belong here – how could she have been so foolish?

"I never should've left you," she said as they separated. "I've made many mistakes, but I think that was my worst one by far."

Anna chuckled. "Well, isn't that ironic," she said. "I made my worst mistake on that very same day."

Elsa shook her head. "I dropped a bombshell on you and gave you no time to react," she said. "You did what anyone in your shoes would do."

"Well, I should've kicked those shoes off, then," Anna said. "You needed me to tell you that it was going to be okay, and that we would figure things out, and instead I froze up and let you walk out of my life." She hung her head. "I've replayed that moment a thousand times in my head since then. There are so many things I could've said differently."

Elsa lifted up her hand, and Anna took it. "It wasn't your fault," she said sternly.

"It was half my fault," Anna countered. "You can't tell me it was all yours, you were in a bad headspace."

"Less than half," Elsa said.

"I won't go under forty percent."

Elsa sighed. "I guess I'll take that."

Anna smiled. "That's a start."

She began to wipe the tears away from her eyes. As she did, Elsa looked at her and finally allowed herself to simply marvel at her beauty for the first time that morning. Even in her sleep-deprived state, with frazzled hair, exhausted eyes and every other imperfection, she was still absolutely gorgeous. She reached out and caressed Anna's face.

"Oh, you've grown into such a beautiful woman," she said wistfully. "And look at me – I haven't changed a bit."

Anna smiled. "That's fine by me," she said. "You've always been perfect, just the way you are."

She leaned back in and kissed Elsa. The kiss filled her with an electric kind of energy that threatened to lift her out of the bed, if not all the way to the moon. When they separated, Elsa was all smiles.

Anna, meanwhile, was thinking. As soon as they were apart, Elsa could see the gears turning in her head. "Come to think of it, though," Anna said slowly, "if I've grown during the past five years and you haven't…doesn't that mean you're not the older sister anymore?"

She was grinning as if she'd just solved a Rubik's cube with one hand. Elsa was mystified. "What?"

"Yeah, that's right!" Anna declared. "All this worrying you've done about watching over me, keeping me safe – well, you can put the kibosh on that! Now it's my job to worry about you!"

Elsa smiled, realizing what she was going for. "I'm afraid it doesn't work like that," she said.

"You know, I used to think the same way," Anna replied. "Back when I was your age."

Elsa stifled a laugh. "Come on, Anna, be serious," she said.

Anna's smile faded; her gaze hardened. "I am," she said solemnly.

She stepped forward again, and Elsa was taken aback by the intensity of her stare. She caressed Elsa's face just as Elsa had caressed hers mere moments ago, ever so gently.

"You've taken on so much responsibility, unasked, all for my sake," she said. "I'm tired of standing back and watching you get crushed under it. Now it's my turn to carry your baggage."

Elsa stared at her in a new light, eyes wide. "Anna…" she said.

"No more worrying about if you're doing the right thing," Anna continued. "Let me do the worrying for you. Let me take care of you. Let me be the one to tell you things are going to be all right, and if they aren't, I'll make them right."

Elsa was floored by the staggering generosity of her offer. "That's…way too much for you to take on," she said. "You'll get overwhelmed."

Anna smiled. "Then I'll ask for advice from my cool younger sister, who I hear has a lot of experience with the job."

It sounded like a childish offer on the face of it, but the more she thought about it, the more sensible it felt. This was quite literally the most Anna could possibly offer her, a definitive answer to her cry for help.

"It won't all be sunshine and rainbows for you, of course," Anna said. "Being the older sister, that means I get to set some rules, and you have to follow them."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Like what?"

"We'll start with the big one," Anna said, her tone now neutral and level. "You wouldn't tear up my favorite outfit, would you?"

Elsa was lost again. "What? Of course not."

"You wouldn't smash my laptop, or throw my favorite toy in the trash?"

"No, never," Elsa said, still mystified.

Anna looked her squarely in the eyes. "Then stop hurting the woman I love."

Elsa's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "W-what?"

"You heard me," Anna said. "You're the most important person in my life. Why would I ever be okay with you doing this to yourself?"

The simple demand hit her like a rock. Any counterargument she could've offered was blown away. It was so obvious in hindsight, but every single wound she'd inflicted upon herself had just been recontextualized. Every injury she'd inflicted upon herself, she'd done with the self-centered belief that she was the sole victim of her own violence. But that was never true, was it? If anyone had done to her what she'd done to herself, Anna would've been devastated, not to mention furious.

Maybe all this time, the monster wasn't the one telling me to get closer to Anna.

While she was still reeling, Anna continued. "I know that's a lot to ask. You've been like this for years now, and I can't expect you to fix it overnight. But at the very least, promise me we won't end up here again." She gestured at the hospital room around them. "Tell me that you'll never do this much harm to yourself again. I want this relationship to continue, I really do, but if this is what it does to you…" She swallowed. "I won't go down that path, not another step. So promise me that won't happen."

Elsa nodded. "I promise," she said, with as much force as she had the strength for. "I promise I won't put us through this ever again."

A broad, toothy grin erupted across Anna's face. "Okay," she said. "We'll start there, and we'll keep going until you're in a healthy place. Does that sound good?"

Elsa smiled. "Yes, it does," she said.

"Then come here," Anna said, leaning back in.

They kissed again, but this time it was long, deep, and passionate. This kiss suggested that as wonderful as it was on its own, it was only the latest in a series that was only going to keep getting better and better. When it was over, a smile was firmly planted on both of their faces.

"Well, sounds like we're off to the races," Anna said. "Want me to get the doctor and see about getting us out of this awful place?"

Elsa nodded. "I'd like that," she said.

Anna headed for the door, half-skipping. "All right. See you in a bit, lil' sis."

"Wait a minute," Elsa said. "You never asked me if I agreed to that part."

Anna turned back from the door, grinning mischievously. "That's because I didn't give you a choice," she said. "You are my little sister now, and that's just something you're gonna have to deal with going forward." She headed out the door before Elsa could protest.

Elsa sighed. At this point, she knew it would be pointless to quibble. When Anna got an idea like this in her head, dislodging it usually wasn't worth the effort. Besides, who was to say she'd even do a bad job at it? It might turn out well for the both of them.

And even if it doesn't, she's still taking home the gold medal between the two of us, I'm sure. In Anna we trust.

A mountain of paperwork later, and it seemed they were almost through. The doctor scribbled something on a prescription page while chatting idly with the two of them. The nurse stood by, smiling the two of them as she could clearly see that much had been mended between them.

"Take this to the pharmacist downstairs," he said, tearing off the page and handing it to Anna. "Since you described your pain as minor, we'll be starting with a light painkiller, not much stronger than aspirin. All the same, don't drink any alcohol with it."

"I won't," Elsa said emphatically.

"She won't," Anna agreed just as forcefully.

"If it's not strong enough, call us. If the prescription runs out and you're still feeling the pain, call us. If you just want to chat…" The doctor wiggled his hand, then gestured at the nurse. "Call Nurse Palmer, she's better at small talk than me." The nurse chuckled.

"Will do, Doctor Pierce," Elsa said. "Thank you very much."

"You're quite welcome, ma'am." He moved to shake her hand, then caught himself and shook Anna's instead. "Elevators are down the hall to the left."

As they were preparing to leave, Anna picked up her phone from the side table. She noticed a notification for a text she hadn't seen earlier and checked it out. It was from the Red Cross, of all places.

Thank you for donating! Your gift has just been used to help save a life! We look forward to receiving another donation from you in the future. Sincerely, The Red Cross.

Anna read the text over again, then looked up at the empty blood bag hanging from the stand next to Elsa's bed.

It could've been a coincidence – this hospital alone might've used ten or twenty pints in that very night. Still, Anna couldn't help but smile.

Not complete without me, huh, sis? Well, I guess it's official now.