Chapter 9

Things do not change; we change. - Henry David Thoreau

I was burning.

Usually I was decent at describing what was going on inside me. You gather and catalog all the terminology from therapy and numerous doctor visits. Anything I could've identified it as had vanished from my mind. This was pain unlike anything I'd experienced before.

My insides had turned to charred bits of coal and somehow fire still blazed within me, already having devoured anything that would burn. It scorched the backs of my eyes, up my spine, inside my lungs. It was angry, drumming against the back of my tongue like curses to be hurled. It hollowed me out to an empty husk; burned me into ash. I should've been pouring out inky black smoke from each orifice. I should've been writhing on the ground, shrieking in agony, begging for the pain to stop, for someone to douse me and put out the flames.

So, why can't I move?

My muscles were completely unresponsive.

It was terrifying.

I felt myself bouncing limply against the floor of the van, a blanket laid carefully beneath me. I heard the sound of the engine roaring and Kristoff cursing as we zoomed back toward the city, toward a hospital, which was only adding to my turmoil. I wanted to scream and shake and twitch; something to escape or distract from this heat.

Yet I laid limp as a rag, unable to even blink while I was roasted from the inside out.

Elsa was everywhere.

I could smell the vanilla and pine off her skin when her wrists came close as she leaned over me. I could feel her frantic fingers trying desperately to nudge me awake. She skimmed along my face and neck, down my shoulders, her hands shaking violently. Each spot she touched provided small, cooling relief, like snow fell from her hands. I wanted to beg her to press her fingers to my chest, to cool where my heart was burning like the sun. I could hear her breathing, fast and broken, and the constant muttering of my name.

And it reached right through the blaze and wounded me further.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm right here. I'm still with you. God, just let me fucking answer her!

"Anna, Anna, baby, please." Her voice broke and I felt a physical ache in my chest that had nothing to do with the fire. I knew she was crying. I wished fiercly that I could just open my fucking eyes, just to reassure her. It was torture to listen to this, to be unable to respond. She leaned down, her mouth pressed against my ear. "Please, wake up. Please, please, please…"

The van shuddered violently as we bumped too quickly over potholes, Kristoff speeding far over the limit. My chest must be searing Elsa at this point. Couldn't she feel me?

I didn't know how long we'd been in the car. Time was eluding me completely; I felt like I'd been burning for hours. How long was the drive to the city? I couldn't even begin to recall the memory of driving to the Box. How long was I going to have to endure this? Would the burning stop before I could move or the other way around? Part of me was happy I couldn't speak for now. Otherwise, Elsa would have to listen to me scream for god knows how long. I had a feeling she wouldn't handle it well.

I once fell down the stairs behind the gym in our senior year and rolled my ankle. It hurt so intensely, all at once, there was nothing I could do to stop from crying out in pain. But I'd cut my forehead open and everyone knows that head wounds bleed like crazy. Or everyone except Elsa, apparently. She saw the blood, heard me yell and panicked. I tried to explain to her that I had just sprained my ankle, that the head wound was nothing, that I always bleed too much. I don't think any of it made it through her mania. She actually ended up being basically useless, so frenzied was her worry. Kris had been the one to carry me to the nurse, Elsa wringing her hands and nearly biting her lip off behind us. She reacted much worse than I had, then. This wasn't even comparable.

"Kris." Elsa pleaded, desperation driving her voice up. "She-She's not moving-"

"Stop it, Els. You're icing the road-"

As if on cue, the van jerked abruptly to the left. I heard an angry car horn fade slowly behind us. Elsa was trying to catch her breath.

"I-I'm sorry-I can't-" She cried and shakily pressed her fingertips to my pulse point. I heard her weak release of a held breath, but it hitched on the way out. Her fingers shifted mindlessly to fall into my hair and she leaned down again to press her forehead against mine. "Anna, please."

I couldn't bear this. I could feel her shaking where she held me.

This was worse than the burning. The need to reassure her was more urgent than anything I'd ever experienced. One of my fingers twitched. It sent a line of white heat zinging up my arm and into my chest.

When I'd first fallen at the Box I was still aware, though I was totally overwhelmed by pain for the first few minutes. I couldn't think past the fire. It didn't occur to me to be alarmed that I had fallen, that I couldn't open my eyes. What finally got through to me was the van moving. It rattled over the bumpy field and onto the highway when Kris slammed on the gas and my head almost flew into the rear door. I knew Elsa meant well with the blanket, but I wish she'd placed me against the cool metal floor of the van. I felt the heat from my body leeching out into the empty hull around us.

I wished I knew how far into the city we'd gotten, how long we'd been driving. My annoyance was building along with the fire, which was not helping matters. If I could just fucking ask Elsa where we were this would be so much easier to deal with.

I wish constantly to stop speaking and you're going to implement it now?!

It took a few minutes for me to realize something was changing. The fire was moving.

It was getting worse.

Heat scooted up my esophagus, resting in my throat for a moment. I could feel it building, focusing.

This was death. It had to be. Nothing could hurt this badly and not be the feeling of dying. Each breath was like the trigger of a blowtorch scorching my tongue.

Elsa was sobbing now. I could distantly hear Kristoff trying to calm her down.

The flames rose, behind my eyes, beneath my scalp. I didn't know if I was breathing anymore. I couldn't feel anything below my lips.

There was a second where I felt my heart heart give an extra hard thud, and then everything exploded.

Heat rushed inward, hitting the center of my skull. Red flashed behind my eyelids. I stopped breathing.

At once, the muscles along my spine curved and arched, my legs yanking up and my arms in to curl in a ball. It was an unnatural movement, tight and painful, twisting my muscles in ways they didn't normally go. Elsa's hands flew away from me and I heard her shocked inhale.

"A-Anna-?"

And then I was screaming, the hair on my arms and neck standing on end at the sound. It was high, bloodcurdling and completely involuntary.

Kristoff yelped and the van jerked again, slamming me into the side wall. I heard Elsa's body hit the wall behind me. The tires shrieked beneath us and Kristoff cursed and struggled with the wheel. We swerved back into the lane with another rubbery squeal, fishtailing wildly.

My mouth felt stuck open, my vocal chords ripped to shreds around the ferocity of my shrieking.

Elsa shoved off the back wall with her legs, wrapping her arms around me in a smooth, weightless motion. I found myself pressed against her chest. Every spot her skin touched mine was icy, intense relief. We rolled around in the back, Elsa trying to shield me from further damage, while Kristoff struggled to right us.

"Anna, Anna-" She muttered fervently against my ear.

But I couldn't hear her around the screaming. It was worse to have my muscles. I couldn't be still; my legs trembled and kicked against hers. I threw my hands over my face, trying to muffle myself, but it didn't help.

Elsa tugged at my wrists, nearly as hysterical as I was. "H-Help me- please- what can I-I do-"

"Burning-" I panted, gripping the sides of my skull. I tried to clench my jaw, to keep my mouth closed. It wasn't working, pained cries slipped between my teeth. "Please- your hands- please-"

"What do you-"

"Make it cold!" I screamed, completely out of my head.

There was a millisecond of confusion, or maybe it was conflict, and then she steadied.

Her eyes cleared, sharpened. I felt the air around us still and plummet. There was a quiet hum; little blue lights sparked in the air, reflecting against the cavernous metal hull.

Elsa placed her hands over mine on the sides of my head. The flames licking across my brain receded, then snuffed out all at once, making way for cool, blue water. It rushed through my veins, pouring down from my skull, into my chest. I could feel the embers where my organs had been sizzle against the healing cold. The relief was so immediate it was almost painful. My hands slipped out from beneath hers, gripping her wrists in an act of desperate instinct. I couldn't let her stop or pull away; if the heat came back it would kill me.

I took several deep breaths, keeping my hold on Elsa's wrists tight.

I didn't notice the van pulling off to the side of the road, didn't notice us stopping or Kris moving to join us in the back. It was almost five minutes later when I opened my eyes.

The twins both sat in front of me, Elsa's hands still raised to my head. Kristoff lingered behind her, his brow crinkled in worry. When I met Elsa's gaze her face crumpled and she yanked me forward, into her arms.

"Oh my god, oh fuck-"

"Els, it's okay. I'm sorry; it's okay." I tried to console her, my arms pinned quite uselessly between our bodies. It didn't matter for long though because a second later she pushed me back and held me at the shoulders. She studied my face with desperate concern.

"Are you okay? What happened? Why did you faint? Why were you hot-"

"I-I don't know." I was uncomfortable with her intensity. I tried to shrug but her fingers kept my arms still with unexpected strength. "I don't remember what happened. I just felt like- I don't know- like-"

I was saved from having to explain when Kristoff squeaked loudly and shoved between us like a cleaver.

"Oh my God, Elsa, your arms!" Kris snatched her hands off of me and held them out in front of him. There were angry red lines wrapped across each of her wrists, swollen and raised and shiny like burns. They eerily resembled shackles. Elsa blinked like she'd been slapped.

"What-" She gasped and pulled her wrists closer to her eyes, as if it was an illusion.

Something within me tilted. The foundation of my world shook, cracked. Everything around me came into sharper focus. I felt, oddly because I'd never before had the experience, much like I was in a wind tunnel. Like everything was rushing around me at speeds I could never hope to compete with.

"Those are my hands."

I blinked, realizing they were both looking at me. I didn't know it was me that had spoken, so detached I felt. It was like I was watching the scene unfold in front of me. Or like it was a far distant memory, something that couldn't hurt me. I also kind of felt like everything was imploding right in front of me.

Bad. Bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad-

"What?" Elsa reached out, like she wanted to touch my face, but I shrunk away from her. The hurt in her eyes was immediate and surprised.

"Those marks. Those are my hands."

There was a suffocating silence. My heart was beating too hard, drowning out the noise of traffic around us. I could feel it pulsing in my neck. There was nothing I could do to stop the words tumbling from my mouth. I wanted to swallow them as each escaped.

"That's where I was holding you. I did that. I burned you."

There was a sharp decline in the temperature of the van. Elsa's face went paler than normal.

"No." Her voice was final. Uncompromising. "No. That's impossible."

"Elsa." I growled and placed my fingers across the marks on her wrists. They were burns. I could feel the heat of them. Guilt twisted in my gut like a knife. My hands covered them perfectly, as if they'd been traced. I snatched my fingers away. Unexpected tears itched at my eyes.

"That's impossible." She repeated, but weakly, almost a whisper.

I shook and wrapped my arms around my knees, drawing as close to myself as possible. I felt like I was still on fire; dangerously unpredictable, explosive. Elsa reached for me again and I scrambled toward the wall.

"Don't touch me." I hissed, breaths between my clenched teeth. "I-I burned you-"

"Anna-"

"Please," I begged, my voice breaking. "Please."

Elsa's hand fell against her lap. She looked at me like I was a stranger.

But Kris, who I had (once again) completely forgotten about, sat behind her. His eyes were like saucers, wide, shocked.

"You're a Ti." His voice was quiet.

"I don't understand why we're still going." I grumbled for what felt like the millionth time.

"Can we please, please just do one thing to give me a tiny amount of peace. Please?"

I sighed, but the tone of sincere panic beneath Elsa's composure kept me silent.

I slumped back against the passenger seat. Kristoff winked at me, safely out of Elsa's view. It wouldn't have mattered either way, because I could feel her eyes locked on me. They hadn't left my position since we had been sitting on the side of the highway. I'd been carefully avoiding meeting her gaze for the last half an hour. I could feel her getting more and more frustrated each second, like the ticking of a bomb sitting close behind me.

Kristoff ended up being weirdly... excited about the recent revelation, much to the annoyance of Elsa and I. He kept grinning and winking and bursting out in shouts of brief laughter that were quickly smothered beneath a look from Elsa. He seemed to believe that this discovery was the best news we could've received. Even Elsa's cold shock was not enough to dampen his spirits.

And Elsa was in shock. That much was obvious. Maybe even more so than I was. But honestly, I'm not sure all of it was because of me burning her.

That's what I was struggling with. Obviously.

As far as I could tell, Elsa had never in her life been so completely taken off guard. She knew most things, in my opinion. She was definitely the smartest person I knew. She wasn't often surprised by things. I think it made it harder for her to deal with.

I never knew what the fuck was going on. This was the first instance where that truth had given me an advantage. I was just used to being confused. I knew how to cope with bewilderment.

Given, maybe I wasn't usually this confused.

How could it even be true anyway? Me, being some kind of... spirit? Creature? Something not human? It was far, far easier to believe that the twins were... something else. But me? I was just Anna. I'd always been just Anna. Everything about me was ordinary. I mean, I was weird, I know, but weird in an expected way. Still human. My parents were humans. Right? They were completely ordinary. My father taught ethics classes at a local college; my mother worked in a clothing department store for 7 years before she had me. They dropped me off at school every morning. My mom cut my sandwiches into hearts. My dad had a mustache that tickled my cheeks when he kissed me at night.

They'd always been such parents. Completely unremarkable in any way, middle of the line all the way through. They were always so regular, even Punzie's parents were more extreme in their tastes and behaviors. My parents were always simple and open. I knew exactly what they expected of me and what I expected of them (up to a point, obviously). And they'd always made sure that I knew what to expect of the world around me. They prepared me for life. They couldn't have lied to me about everything. They wouldn't have put me in danger like that. They wouldn't have deliberately made me ignorant to a threat. And they couldn't have pulled off such a ruse. They weren't... dark enough. They didn't have the depth for such a secret.

Except... what about the fire?

What about the fire?

It didn't mean anything. It didn't have anything to do with any of this.

I felt my mind turn from the idea in an act of self defense. That wasn't something I could consider right now. I needed more privacy to knowingly enter into a breakdown.

Yet, the knowledge tickled over my skin like needles, jabbing me with a what if? every few seconds.

And besides, I didn't meet a lot of the criteria for spirit-hood that Kristoff had told me. I'd never had any powers, no knowledge had ever been passed down to me, I wasn't anymore in touch with the Earth or the elements than any other human I knew.

And that was another thing. How could it be fire? If it had to be any of them, how could it be fire? Fire took my home and family from me. It had obliterated my life. I still hadn't recovered; neither had my mother. She never would. Maybe I wouldn't either. I couldn't be spiritually tied to fire. I couldn't feel a kinship with it. And if I was supposed to, why had it betrayed me so callously? How could I ever trust it? How could I trust myself? Judging from what I'd done to Elsa, I couldn't.

There had to be some sort of alternate explanation. None of it could actually be true. It was impossible. It made absolutely no sense. And even if it did my mind was far too jumbled and mixed up to make any kind of connection between these massive gaps in my knowledge.

The only concrete problem was that I'd burned Elsa.

I knew I'd done it. I hadn't needed to place my hands over the marks to be sure. They were mine, immediately recognizable. It made me almost angry that Elsa would even deny it. She knew that those were my hands as well as I did.

It was not something I could argue or deny. Not something I could ignore.

I hadn't felt myself doing it.

That was the scariest thing by far. The lines were distinct, swollen pink ridges. The skin close by was red and angry, so different than the usual alabaster perfection that was Elsa. They were real, tangible. I'd hurt her, without even meaning to. Without realizing it. I kept sneaking glances at the marks. I didn't want to see them, but allowing myself to escape the guilt of it was even worse. I deserved to feel this way.

You hurt her. You burned her. Your fault.

I couldn't take it. I wanted to fling myself from the car, get as far from her as I could.

What else would I do? Would I burn her again? Were my hands safe? I couldn't risk it. I'd never touch her, never, if I couldn't be sure.

I'd decided the moment I understood what had happened. The burns made me sick. Made me wish they were my wrists, my skin that was damaged. Made me feel a little like my organs were being ripped out. They looked so familiar. So similar to the stretched skin on my mom's arms and hands so many years ago. The comparison made me almost wretch. How could my own body commit an act so reprehensible to me? How could my body hurt Elsa? I felt dirty; I wanted to scrub my hands raw.

And Elsa sat quietly behind me, just staring. I knew she wanted to talk to me. I'd known even back in high school when Elsa wanted to be alone with me. She made it quite obvious with her utter disregard for whoever else may be around at the moment. This felt more purposeful, though. I could almost feel her thinking at me; trying to get me to turn around and look at her. I kept my eyes directed forward, fighting my usual impulse to give Elsa whatever she wanted.

I was not doing well. I could feel her building up to something, most likely an outburst I wasn't ready to deal with. So I took matters into my own hands.

"I just don't get why, if I'm fine now-"

"You're not fine." Elsa growled, her voice concealing a dangerous edge. "You were passed out for more than 15 minutes. You had an incredibly high fever."

"Had." I threw my hands up and let them fall noisily back into my lap. "Exactly. As in, I don't have one anymore. Also it seems that maybe there is some kind of supernatural answer for the fever. So, really it makes sense to just turn around-"

"Absolutely nothing makes sense right now. Even if..." She paused for a long time. I fought the urge to turn toward her. "Whatever. It doesn't mean something isn't wrong. Medically. Something definitely is wrong."

"I'm not arguing that. I just think maybe it's not a hospital kind of issue at this point-"

"Maybe we should let a doctor decide that."

It was instinct to turn and glare at her. I hated the dismissive, superior tone, even when I knew she was right. I knew I'd made a mistake when my eyes locked onto hers.

She was... sad.

Which was not at all what I was expecting, and not something that I could have ever prepared for. Because Elsa sad was so, so much worse than Elsa mad. Elsa sad broke my heart into tiny shards and then flung them into the soft skin of my chest like little knives.

She was chewing her lip raw and rubbing at the lines on her wrists in an absent way. Her eyes were large and watery and unapologetic as she stared. She didn't care to hide her hurt, to shield me from it, which wasn't like her.

She held my gaze for a silent moment. I saw her breath hitch.

"Why won't you let me touch you?"

It was meek and desperate and very not Elsa. My eyes widened and I chanced a quick glance at Kristoff. His eyes were glued onto the road like his life depended on it. (Which I guess technically it did, but you know what I mean.) He was doing his best to ignore us. And I understood because this was something... intimate. Privacy was laced into every word. If I were him I probably would have jumped from the vehicle.

"Elsa-" I was surprised to hear my own voice crack, but god I really couldn't deal with seeing her like this. Like whatever I said next might kill her. "I burned you-"

"I don't care." She shook her head vehemently. "It doesn't matter."

"I care." And I was a little surprised at my level of frustration. But how could she think that it didn't fucking matter? She should know me better. How could she be looking at me like I was the unreasonable one? "The- the thought that I- could hurt you-"

"Anna, please," She begged and squeezed her eyes shut. "I- I can't lose you like this. Please, things were just- you can't run away from me, now."

I wondered if a person could actually feel their heart breaking in their chest. If not then maybe something really was medically wrong with me.

"Els." My hand reach toward her of its own volition. I watched her watch me; saw her shoulders hunch when the motion died halfway to her. "I'm- I wouldn't- I'd never leave you. You know that."

My hand hung limply between us. Elsa reached toward it, the tips of her fingers barely brushing mine. And I almost cried because really it was the single thing I wanted. The only thing I knew for sure would make me feel better. I wanted to move to her, to take comfort from her touch, her attention, her smile. And if she wanted that too than how could I not?

You'll hurt her. You already did.

The thought made my stomach twist. Her hands looked so soft; mine looked like weapons. Watching her fingers skim mine made me feel panicky, like she was leaning in to touch an active bomb.

"But- but I can't." I dropped my hands away from hers, drawing it close to my chest. I felt safer, calmer. Even as I watched her fall to pieces. "Not until I know it's s-safe. I can't."

And there was the look; the axe had fallen and I'd killed her. She dropped her face into her knees and didn't look at me again. But I hadn't missed the tears before she'd hidden, I hadn't missed the panic in her eyes.

I felt like there was glass in my stomach. I turned to stare at the road in an act of self preservation. I'd break if I kept looking at her; I'd shatter into a million pieces.

"Sooooo," Kristoff's voice intruded on the silence after only a few moments. I tried to focus on him, tried to ignore the way Elsa didn't move in the back. He cleared his throat. "Um, we're here."

"What?" I croaked, throwing my face into the window to watch the hospital looming into focus. It stood out from the other buildings around it like a beacon.

My stomach dropped further. I started picking at the fabric around the rips in my jeans.

"It'll be fine, feisty pants." Kristoff's grinned at me, noting my rising anxiety. "You're the man, right?"

"Right." I tried to say, but it was only a whisper.

"Hey." Elsa's voice was muted but I turned instantly at the sound. She'd sat up, leaning closer between the seats than I was expecting. My face was closer to hers than I was prepared for, and I found myself quickly distracted by how pretty her eyes were. She offered a weak smile at my reaction. "It's gonna be okay. I promise. I'll be here the whole time, all right?"

I nodded, trying hard to study her face. I wanted to see beneath this composure she'd found. I wanted to know she was okay. "All right."

And maybe I did cry a few sneaky tears while we were parking and getting out of the car and maybe I did start counting my breaths while we were walking to the front doors.

Elsa was muttering things to me in a low voice, mostly about what Paris was like, how it had been a few years since she'd gone, how she'd like me to see it. I just held onto the steady cadence of her voice, took comfort in her tone and proximity. I stopped myself from grabbing her hand a total of six times on the way to the doors.

There were lots of people bustling by, like there always is at hospitals. Nurses with clipboard and carts of medical equipment, staff in scrubs pushing patients in wheelchairs, people meandering down halls, constantly checking the level maps posted on walls.

The smell wasn't quite as unpleasant as at the institute. I got the feeling this was a generally higher quality hospital. There were a couple of green spaces by windows in the front of the buildings, and one of those glass elevators that you can see through all the way up.

We made our way to the front desk. I felt a shift in Elsa. Outwardly, she was still trying to calm me and put on a reassuring face. She was still muttering about traveling. We'd moved on to Dublin. According to her it was one of her favorite cities. Yet, her arms were stiffer at her sides; she stood a little closer to me, as attached as my shadow. Kristoff's also had moved to loom behind her, and I honestly forgot all the time how massive Kris actually was but seriously he could look so intimidating. They had shifted into alert mode, and for a second it reminded me that I had other things, bigger things, to be scared of than the hospital. The twins were ready for a fight.

Maybe that was why the woman behind the desk looked so startled when she noticed our approach. She smiled in a meek kind of way.

"Hi, how are you."

Elsa leaned forward with a dazzling smile. I watched the girl blink like she'd been stunned. A twinge of jealously shot through my veins.

"Hello, my... friend fell very ill about an hour ago and lost consciousness for a significant amount of time. She had a very high fever, over 104. We thought it safest to bring her in."

Elsa's voice was like cool water, flowing over you and washing away any thought other than what she'd just said.

As such, the girl nodded dumbly and muttered, "Of course." Before leaning down to jam a few keys at her computer.

I let Elsa do the talking, even when the girl attempted to ask me direct questions. I felt like I might throw up if I opened my mouth. Every passing mention of tests, or check ups, or injections sent rolling chills up my spine. I was shaking almost constantly after only a few minutes. The woman handed Elsa a clipboard like she was my mother and nodded at us in a sympathetic way.

"It will be a few minutes."

"Of course." Elsa blessed her with another large smile and she grinned back at her.

Beneath the nausea I considered punching the girl's teeth down her throat.

We moved to walk toward the seating area, Elsa and Kristoff slightly in front of me, studying the clipboard. I felt completely out of sorts. I looked down to watch my shaking fingers.

And then there was a high, nasally sort of howling. It was an odd sort of noise to hear in a hospital, much like a cat fight.

Recognition slapped me in the face half a second too late.

Oh shit.

I turned to the left just in time for arms to sweep around my ribs and tug me up into a bear hug. My feet left the ground and I was spinning and black hair hung in my eyes.

"Anna! Oh my god, girl, where have you been?!"

"O-Olaf?!" I choked and wrapped my arms around his neck to stabilize myself. He smelled like our apartment building, and I felt my heart give a squeeze. "Oh my god, oh my god, it is you!"

And in a moment of hysteria I was laughing wildly, burying my face in his neck while he continued to spin me. I felt like I'd been dropped back in time, distant and confused. How could he be here in front of me? Had the last time we'd talked really only been a week ago? How could I not have realized how much I'd missed him?

He set me down gently, gripping my shoulders and leaning close to my face. His black eyes gleamed with giddiness, and his hair fell in a disarray across his forehead. He grinned so widely he looked like his teeth might fall out.

"Oh my god, you, Anna! Seriously?! I've been worried sick; I thought you moved out and didn't tell me."

He pouted his lips in a precious, childlike way and I couldn't help from gripping his cheeks in my hands with a happy grin. "Of course not, O; you know me better than that."

"Then what the hell, Red?" He threw his arms up in mock anger. "How could you leave me hanging for Thursday? I told you months ago I wanted you to come to my cousin's wedding with me-"

And then an obnoxious noise cut him off, like the sound of a chainsaw starting. Kristoff clearing his throat.

Oh shit. Again.

The twins stood to the side of us. Kristoff was doing his I don't know you routine, which was a lot of glaring and arm crossing. Yet, his expression was mildly curious. I'd told him about Olaf; I think he was interested to see him in person.

Elsa was a different story.

She'd taken a step toward us, I realized, standing a little closer than what would be considered normal. Her arms were tense at her sides. I saw her fists shaking. She was looking at Olaf like he was a piece of gum stuck to her nice shoe.

There was something very threatening about her stance. Very territorial. Olaf's hands were on my arms, he was leaning toward me, and still the way Elsa was standing made it obvious I was with her, not him. I don't know how she managed it.

I watched her eyes move down to focus on where his hands held me. Her nostrils flared. I felt the temperature drop around us. There was a murderous gleam in the blue of her irises, darkening it. I felt a shiver go up my spine.

I took a step back; Olaf's hands fell to his sides. He offered me a lopsided grin, totally unperturbed. But then, that was just Olaf.

"Um, O, these are my... friends. Kristoff and El-Elsa."

Elsa twitched when I stumbled on her name, but her eyes didn't leave Olaf. She took another step closer to me, stealing the distance that I'd gained from him. A small part of me wanted to roll my eyes at her.

"Kris, Els, this is Olaf, from my building."

"Also known as her total BFF." Olaf grinned and hooked an arm around my shoulders, rubbing a fist against my hair. "Anna always tries to downplay it, but she'd be lost without me. Olaf, annoyance extraordinaire."

I shoved away from him again, grumbling and trying to right my braids. "Cut it out, O. You're such an embarrassment."

"You love me." He grinned and punched my shoulder.

I heard Elsa choke beside me. She coughed violently into her hand. Olaf shot her a quizzical look.

"I, um, didn't know we'd be coming to Calvary. I- I could've told you guys O works here."

Olaf gripped the front of his scrubs and popped them against his chest in an attempt to look cool. "I save people; it's just what I do."

I rolled my eyes at him.

Elsa grabbed her own arm, as if to restrain herself, and I watched her grip tighten with startling ferocity. "That's nice."

She sounded like she thought it definitely wasn't nice.

"Thanks!" Olaf chirped back at her, his cheer impossible to dampen.

Elsa tried to smile but it looked like a sneer. I laughed nervously.

This... will be fun.