A/N: firstly, thank you to EveBelle18 for proofreading yet again my fics. this one is heavily inspired by Claudia Gray's book A Thousand Pieces Of You (the book that has my heart atm). and also my otpprompts from tumblr, who has this sort of concept, too. be sure to check them out! a Dimension Skipping!AU and SoulMate!AU packed into one. hope you enjoy. r&r. (also extremely sorry for the horrible clichéd title. i suck at title's most.)

and ps, yes, this was previously Secretly a Duck. changed my username! hi!

WARNINGS: extremely bland writing and transitioning because if i were to completely detail everything about the concept of this story this one-shot would reach over 10k and more words. it's a bit confusing, i guess, but i hope you understand. this is sort of an experimental piece for a bigger project. still, enjoy!

"Kristoff?" she spoke his name with uncertainty, looking at him with curious eyes, the dark night reflecting in her gleaming eyes. He looks over his shoulder just as he finished slipping his shoes on.

"I have to go," he says, The Firebird incandescent in his pocket with a luminous glow, giving off a sense of power and determination to his soul.

She stands by the door, the light pouring out of the room behind her and into the night, and she presses her hands at the knob and frame, debating with herself if she should stop him. "Where?"

"After Hans," he grits his teeth without hesitation, averting his eyes before looking up into the night sky. He hears her shift from her place.

There's a pause before she speaks again, meekly this time. "Don't go," she begs silently, a cry threatening to break from her voice.

"I'll be back, Anna," he assures her. "I can't let him go off on his own, I can't let him hurt you. Not anymore."

She can't find the right words to bring him back, not now that he's burning with the determination to save her. So he closes his eyes before tearing himself away from the doorsteps, walking away as early as now before her single touch could make him stay.

He walks into the gray night, and just before he sets the intricate machine into a dimension he would likely skip where his target is, she calls out, one last time.

"Come back home," she says in a small voice, three words hidden in her call that's just for him.

"I will," he calls back, heart heavy in his chest.

Then he was gone.

He is warped into this dimension in which he's this rookie boxer that is under the care of a young nun none other than her.

Kristoff was one to believe in this term that when he and his ex co researcher, Hans, The Betrayer, when they had created this machine that allowed the person to skip from dimension to dimension, that there really was this thing called fate. He had theorized on the thought that in each dimension, that there will be people who would most likely fall in love or meet, under any circumstance, in every dimension, in every life they would live.

But of course, Hans had made fun of him for being a sappy halfwit for it when they were still working on The Firebird together, saying that people like them that had facts and believed in only the proven would be nitwits if they believed in foolish postulates as such. Even Elsa told him off to get his head out of the clouds.

But he did believe. And of course, Anna was there. She believed in him, too.

He distinctly remembers what she said while she sat on the couch opposite from him one night while he baked cold enchiladas in the oven.

"That's amazing, Kris," she said dreamily while she swung one leg over the other, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. God, he loved it when she abbreviated his name into those four letters that sent a thrill in his chest. "It's almost like you're explaining… people who are meant to be with each other, in science."

"Sort of," he agreed, eyes on the oven.

"Do you think there's someone meant for me?" she asked that time, because in that moment they really haven't confessed their feelings yet, but there was chemistry. There was always chemistry between them.

He looked at her behind long golden locks covering his half his eyes. "Of course."

Kristoff winced when a fist crashed into his cheek, feeling the skin there swell almost immediately.

He didn't know how in this world he ever had any interest in playing this dangerous sport, but he put up with himself and staggered on his feet, jerking some memories from the Kristoff of this dimension on what kind of stance he would use back in defense from his opponent. Another swing, he dodged.

But just when he thought he was getting the hang of it, red, oh, beautiful strawberry blonde hair caught fire in his eyes; Anna.

He couldn't help but turn just a bit, before letting another punch blow him off his feet.

Because there, he understood.

The Kristoff in this dimension might have just fallen in love with Anna, because honestly, who couldn't? Though she wore a black dress and a cross across her neck with an oath to never marry, he understood that Kristoff was in love, and this was as close as he could ever have her.

When he finally lost his footing, he cannoned unto the ground, and ten counts he was out.

There were grueling shouts and some cheers, and his head was spinning to even comprehend what was happening because the next thing he knew, he was on a couch in a white dull room.

He opened his eyes blearily to find her in front of him. "Anna?" he said in a daze.

"Kristoff, lay back and rest," she said with utmost politeness, dabbing his face with wet cloth. Her eyes softened on him. "I told you not to take The Marshmallow on. He's still too much for you."

"The Marshmallow?" he groaned when she blot the cloth on the open wound on his forehead. "What kind of name is that?"

"The kind when their opponents take him head-on because he has the most deceiving teddy bear look, but crushes them in the ring," she giggled, pulling back.

He looked at her, one arm over his forehead. And he sees that even the Anna in this dimension looked at him with those sapphire eyes the way the Anna he knew looked at him before when they thought what they had for each other was just a mere crush, eyes far off and distant, filled with want and softness just for him. And he knows, she loves him here, too, but she cannot have him.

And he can't have her, too.

The Firebird then softly vibrates against his thigh, signaling him that Hans is on the move, in another dimension he is likely seeking to destroy.

He has to go, but he does both of them a favor in this world.

Leaning forward, he kisses her.

He tastes the shock in her lips, and he zaps off from that dimension, likely to leave the Kristoff who lived in this respective world still kissing her lips, wishing them both the best.

In this world, he's falling for her, and falling fast. Literally.

He slammed against her, eyes flying wide to the realization that washed over him of how tightly pressed they are together, but the next thing he knows is that he's being flung by Anna's push against him and he hits painfully to the ground.

"Argh!" he grunted, body recoiling into a curved position at the sudden contact of stones and uneven streets on his poor back. His head is starting to spin again.

"Kris!" she called to him between a shout and a whisper, and she crouches down into a position with a gun in her hand and suddenly he understands. "Get down! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

It seemed like in this world they were together again, but with a dangerous mission for justice. He's more than sure that his theory isn't false at the sight of her washed with concern and worry for him, their blue uniforms bathed in the evening sky and their badges gleaming in response.

"W-Who are we after again?" he asked dumbly after he couldn't rack any memories from the Kristoff in this dimension in such a short time. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hans, Kris, Hans," she said firmly, ducking when a bullet fired her way. Then, there's a shift in her eyes, and it looks like she's dangerously close to crying. "He killed Elsa, Kris. Elsa. She's gone because of him."

Then she opened her eyes again, pure rage and anger burning in her eyes that rimmed with tears, and she tightens her grip on her gun, shaking her head as if her denial would make everything go back to everything it used to be.

His throat runs dry at her words, and he can't imagine that in this world his best friend and his lover's sister is mercilessly murdered by the monster he's after. Even in this world, he's the bastard that ruins everything.

Why?

He wanted to run to her, to hug her, kiss her okay, but another shot and it makes both of them involuntarily retreat behind the police car for protection, fresh fear pounding at his heart.

The soft glow of The Firebird in his pocket indicates that it's positive that the Hans he is after is the one opposite to them firing stray gunshots that wanted them dead, and he thinks that as he rounds the pistol in his hand that he'll kill them both; The Hans from his dimension and the Hans that slept soundly in him at the moment, the one who killed Elsa, the one who made Anna feel so much pain, so much agony, so much hurt.

He takes cover and aims, and even through the darkness of the night adrenaline spikes his senses when he fires, and the figure across him flinches with the bullet in his organs, and in a few moments, he drops. Dead.

He killed Hans.

He's dead.

Kristoff breathes heavily as he lowers his gun, relieved that the ringing war is over, but there's doubt. Doubt that killing the man was easy. A little too easy.

Hans lay there, limp and lifeless on the ground with a gun in his hand, poison in his organs and blood on his shirt, Kristoff crouched down to examine him.

Just when he was about to feel relieved, to feel unburdened, The Firebird in his pocket signals him he is on the move again, Hans, the Hans he was after, the one he's missioned to kill. He snaps his head to look at the one that lay on the ground next to his feet; this man here was of this dimension, not his. He got away at the last second.

But just as he was about to jump off this parallel dimension, two shaky arms wrap around his middle, making him freeze.

Anna trembled as she sobbed into his shoulder blades, weak, faint cries that carried onto the night. Kristoff froze in his place, feeling her, listening to her, breathing her from reach, and he knows she's relieved that it's all over.

But it was not over for him; he had a mission to finish, a woman, Anna, the alternate version of this woman wrapping herself in him, to protect. So he pressed at the machine in his pocket before she did anything that would scorch a painful memory in his head.

In this new world, he hasn't encountered Anna.

Yet.

But he knows she's here; she has to.

Unless the possibility that she does not live in this world was there, too.

That's the thing about alternate dimensions. This project they've worked on for so long. In this world, he could have been a pilot. In another, maybe a construction worker. In some world, he must've chosen orange juice over pineapple juice. In some other reality, he could have had a family, in different one, he could have none.

Though it sounded mad and a little unsettling, the world he lived in made it possible to do all this. To do all this wonders thanks to his colleague's that they've made this machine a success; The Firebird. Well, minus one.

He trusted Hans once; he thought he was a good man. But Hans was deceiving and surprised all of them with his mad comeback; using Anna. He was inhuman to do so, and now Kristoff's here, a swearing protector of her in this wild goose chase of dimension-to-dimension battle of wits.

Kristoff followed the crowd and away from the train station he just left, wondering and planning on Hans' next assault as he pieced the jagged missing pieces together, like a jigsaw puzzle slowly coming to light.

And then he saw him there, by the lamppost, sitting at the bench, with her. His insides began to clench and his head began to cloud with anger at just the sight of him next to her of all people, and this time, the Firebird did indicate that the one right in front of him really is his target, and he just began to vent out all his bottled feelings.

Kristoff punched Hans in the face, hard, and the man was sent flying off his seat and slamming unto the ground, a crack and an obvious rupture somewhere on his poor face. Hans shot his head back at him, in pure shock, and the people around them began to scream, even Anna. Even the Anna in this dimension.

Why did she have to be so painfully beautiful?

She was shrieking when he landed another punch on the jerk's jaw and another crack resonated through the air. He had guessed that she hadn't known any of his wrong doings at all in this world; after all, they were different in all the lives they've been in, except for their fate.

The people they were destined to meet, people they were meant with. Kristoff held on to this strong belief just as Hans began to scramble for his pockets, most likely for his own Firebird. When he found it nearly squashed under Kristoff's weight, he made a few hasty adjustments, giving Kristoff an angry glare he knew far too long himself that this man beneath him was the threat, before he flashed out of that world to a new one.

Kristoff rolled off Hans, the real Hans from this world, and panted out his frustrations, studying his knuckles up in the air that were now skinned with blood.

Anna dropped on her knees, looking anxious at the shaken Hans. "Hans! Are you alright?" she breathed, so full of concern and worry, Kristoff was almost jealous.

Hans blinked and winced when he touched his face. "What… what happened?"

That's another thing about The Firebird and skipping through dimensions; when you walk through a dimension, you can only take full control of the body of the alternate reality of you. Which meant the version of you in that world would be asleep, in that body, with you in full control; only to take bearings once you skip away to another dimension or to your own.

Kristoff felt no pity for Hans, even in this world. "Careful," he scowled as Anna touched Hans' face. "The bastard can sure bite," he gestured to his right hand, a bite mark red and sunken into his skin.

Hans grimaced. "I bit you?" he asked, turning his head to Anna. The poor guy, completely unaware that his other version was a prick. "Anna? What's happening?"

Anna turned to Kristoff, face hard. "I don't know. Ask him," she spat, like he was vile. He looked away.

A mass of people had already surrounded them, jostling to see and a little disappointed that the fight had ended so quickly. Kristoff felt bad that he had to leave his alternate self to deal with his mess.

Just when he was beginning to adjust the settings of The Firebird, a cute little redhead scooted next to him.

"Are you…" she hesitated, putting a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Y-You okay, right?"

Kristoff glanced to see Anna blushing up at him, Hans in peripheral vision still cracking his jaw.

He gave a broad smile and flashed out of that dimension, glad to know he had left a striking encounter for them in that life.

This was not how it was supposed to happen.

He never meant for any of this to happen.

Kristoff had followed Hans in each dimension he had left his stain and when he had finally caught up with him; in this world where advanced technologies ceased to exist and time was frozen in Victorian, he found her, of course.

In this world, they're married. She ran away from the mansion to be with him, he stayed working at the lumberyard to fend for their needs. He loves her, she loves him. Happy.

But he did not expect things to end like this.

Kristoff was happy, no—ecstatic, thrilled, the surreal feeling of having her overcome him and he loved her more, he found out, in each life they've lived.

But it was short lived, especially when there's a murderous monster out seeking to destroy their lives.

The night Anna was failing epically in baking and he was laughing as he watched her dance to the music of nothing but his laughs—the things go fast and the world slurs into a blur when Anna suddenly pushes him off the side of the table, sending him crashing to the piled chairs she had arranged. He looks up at her, and there it is.

Blood.

A knife stabbing deep in her organs, and she looks down at it slowly, before her knees knock and she drops to the ground, so slowly, so in pain.

He's crying when he realizes its Hans; the one who he's after. The reason he's here, the reason he's out of the bounds of his own dimension, ruining this one. So he doesn't think twice when he gets up his feet and punches him in the face, over and over, punch for punch, all his actions fueled by anger, rage, aggravation—regrets.

Hans is limp beneath him the moment he realizes he's stopped breathing and stilled from moving, immediately extracting himself off the dead body and sped to Anna, her still in the ground and breathing rapidly in uneven scared breaths.

"Kristoff?" came her shaky voice, a sob breaking from his throat as he cradles her in his arms, his knuckles scraped and bloody. "Was that Hans?"

"Shhh," he shushes her, his tears raining on her face as one dropped one after another, his fingers shaky and his heart falling into an endless pit, an endless abyss and he knows he cannot save her. Not this time. "It's alright, Anna. I'll bring you to Pabbie, he knows how to—"

"No," came her hushed voice, weaker and weaker by the minute. He freezes. "No, Kristoff. It's too late. I've lost too much blood. And my stomach…"

He's crying harder now when her words wash over him like a waterfall, knocking him off like an avalanche and breaking his heart a million times, over and over again.

"No," he shakes his head, defiant and scared. "No, no, no. I can't lose you, Anna. I can't."

She's still for a moment, her blood pooling at her sides with uneven breaths leaving her chest.

"You're not my Kristoff," she says after a moment.

His breath caught on.

"W-What?" he stammered, stunned.

"You're not my Kristoff," she says, slowly this time, turning her head up into the right angle to look up at him. "You're still Kristoff, but not mine."

She knew him too well. Even in this world he was alien of, even when he does not see any difference in him, even when she was dying. She knew all along.

He shook his head. She smiled.

"I love you," she said in a quiet voice, a tear dribbling down her cheek, the fire in her eyes slowly flickering, passing, dying. "All of you."

And in these last moments, he extracts himself of that world to leave the rightful Kristoff to hear her say these words, his apology never to be heard.

When he comes back home, she's waiting for him. She's always been waiting for him.

Anna jumped off the marble stairs of the front door before padding fast toward him to greet him, throwing her arms over his neck into a tight warm welcome hug.

She begins to kiss every feature she could reach on her tiptoes, tell him every sweet word invented in the dictionary of how much she missed him, and began to wrap him in everything that was her.

He looked down at her, and he broke.

Kristoff sobbed softly into her hair, strong arms looping around her petite waist to bring her closer to him until no space was between them at all, to feel her in all the possible ways possible, to touch her, to smell her, love her—

She's alive.

She's alive this time. But the vision of her brutally murdered and dying in his arms is haunting him more than it should.

The tears come spilling down his face the moment she returns his warm hug, slipping her slim arms around his neck to pull him down in her reach, fingers toying at his blonde hair.

The moonlight rained on them with its celestial glow, thousands of stars twinkling above them, and he thinks that every star was them, in every life they've lived. Thousands of possibilities, hundreds of lives lived, only one them.

She pulls away just enough to cup his tear-stained face, allowing him to open his eyes to see her, so full and alive with hope and love. She rolls her thumb over his damp cheek.

"I'm here, Kris, I'm here," she whispers to him, her breath hot in his face. She takes his trembling hand and puts it just above her beating heart, fast and throbbing of her love for him. "I'm here. You're back, it's over."

Then she says these three words that has him falling in love with her all over again. And now that he's in his respective world and his true love, he was determined to set things right.

He has her again.

Anna kissed him, deep and reassuring, and Kristoff knew one thing; it's all over.

And this time, he's not losing her again. Not anymore.

"I'm yours," she says into the kiss, pulling him closer and deeper with one last tear streaming down his face. "I'm yours."

She always has been.

A/N: so, isn't it obvious that SoulMate!AU's and Dimension Skipping!AU's are my favorite? lmao, i am such a sappy person. anyway, i'm posting a multi-chapter fic about this concept some time soon. same concept, different storyline. more details about the Firebird and dimension skipping in there. i just find joy in writing it for these two dorks more than anything. feedback is most welcome. till next time!