Elsa sat next to Anna's bed, her hand on her sister's. The room was quiet, the only sound the noise of the beeping that was the indication Anna was still alive. Elsa had braided her red hair into two braids, both hanging over her shoulders. She had not required much work medically, and the doctors had said the swelling in her brain would go down with time. She would wake when she was ready.

The images flashed before Elsa's eyes once more, as they had numerous times throughout the past week. Ana's head cracking against the concrete... her father shooting Hans... the police arresting Jack. The news had been sure to cover the arrest, claiming that the 'Infamous Jack Frost had been caught for good!' Not much had been said about Han's death, which shocked Elsa. The whole thing had seemed strange. Her father had barely said a word to her, and though the emotion he had displayed upon seeing Ana on the floor had been raw, he had only come to see her twice.

She felt Anna's hand twitch. It had been doing that for days now almost as if Anna was assuring her that she was still there, and would be back soon.

A tear fell down Elsa's cheek.

This was not supposed to happen... She thought, and lifted her spare hand to wipe her eye.

"Mind if I come in?" She jumped upon seeing Kristoff walk through the door, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Oh! Kristoff!" Elsa jumped, her arms flying around his neck, grabbing him tightly. She began to cry freely, and he patted her back whispering to her that everything would be okay.

How? The word couldn't leave her mouth, because she knew that Kristoff would have no answers. There were no way this could be okay.

After moments of letting it out, she returned to her seat and Kristoff went to Anna's side, letting his fingers trail across her hand. "We have to do something Elsa... we have to get Jack out." He leaned forward and placed a small kiss on Anna's forehead. Her hand twitched again.

"What can we do? This is a mess..." Elsa buried her face in her hands. The overwhelming fear that had been hiding in the shadows for days began to overtake her. Her chest tightened, and she brought her knees up putting her arms around them. She hadn't had a panic attack in a very long time and now here it was torturing her.

"I think I may have a plan Elsa... please, relax. We have a chance to try and fix this... but you need to tell me exactly what happened."

A week of being in jail. A week. I had been keeping count, because for some reason time seemed strange in jail.

I had been placed into a cell on my own. It had become apparent pretty quick that I couldn't be with other people since each of them seemed to have an issue with me. Now my only problem were the guards. I guess when you're thrown in jail for 'killing a cop' the other cops seem to have some dislike for you.

To say I had been beaten my first day in the slammer would be putting it lightly. My eye was still swollen, and I could barely stretch my ribs were so bruised.

The second day had been just as bad. I had been let out of my cell for recreational time. It was there that I saw Pitch standing in his grey garb, watching me with his black beady eyes. I had forgotten that when I sent the police after him following our knife fight, he had been arrested. It didn't take long for him to corner me and add to my pain. I had took it like a champ though, and was glad it had started a riot. Now I wasn't allowed to leave.

I sat in the cell, my back against the cold concrete wall. Most jails had orange uniforms, but here in the grayest town in the world we had to wear gray jump suits. I was even given shoes. Honestly, it was more comfortable to go barefoot.

I heard the cackling of the inmate next to me, a clear sign that we were being given our food. Since we were not allowed to leave in this section, food was hand delivered.

I stared at the guard who was pushing food through the slots. He passed me and I jumped up kicking the bars.

"HEY! You can't fucking starve me!" I yelled, grasping the iron and watching the big ugly lug come back towards me holding a tray of food.

"Oh... you're right. I can't. I'm so sorry Jack... here." He said to me, and I jumped back with a yelp as he threw a container of hot soup at me, the liquid falling to the floor, the container falling with a bang. "Oops. Almost forgot." He pelted a piece of bread at me.

How the fuck did this happen to me? Not too long ago I would be sitting in my chair with my feet soaking, dealing with Mund and Tooth making out. I'd be watching all of this shit happen from the news. Why the hell was I living it now?

As I bit into my bread I attempted to collect my thoughts. You're Frost... Jack Frost... you don't feel. Toughen up. Toughen up.

"Daddy?" Elsa poked her head tentatively through her fathers door. In his ornate office he sat at his desk writing down some gibberish. His walls were adorned with photos of himself and his wife, a few of Elsa and Anna.

"Ah, sweet pea. How is your sister doing?" He looked up from his writings, placing his feathered quill down.

Elsa walked towards him, her hands held in front of her 'like a lady' as he had always told her. "The Doctors say the swelling has reduced, but there is no change. She's still not waking up."

"So very sad... Elsa what can I do for you?"

She sat in the chair across from him, grabbing the underneath of the top of his desk to pull herself in. The chair dragged against the floor.

"Elsa! That's not very lady like."

"Sorry daddy." She put her hands back in her lap. "I just... wanted to see if I could help you with anything."

The Governor leaned back in his chair, watching his daughter with narrowed eyes. He then let out a booming laugh, clapping his hands together. "Finally want to take me up on the offer of learning the business hm? I'm glad you put this whole Jack Frost nonsense aside and came to your senses."

Elsa smiled at him, the realest fake smile she could give. She wanted to jump up, hit him, throttle him, but instead she sat like the good girl he had raised. She had to play the part and already their plan was going the way it was laid out because unbeknownst to him, his desk now had a video recorder taping his every word.