Trigger warning: Self-harm with suicidal intent (past action) is alluded to. The use of medical restraints is also present.

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen nor anyone or anything from the film or associated media.

Chapter One

The light flickered on. Or perhaps she had just opened her eyes, illuminating her consciousness.

The light was round and flat, stuck to the ceiling like a barnacle. From it filtered a vapid, vaguely yellow haze of brightness. Only it wasn't bright at all; it was in fact the least useful light Elsa had ever seen. It was as though it didn't want to be a light at all but had an obligation to be one and thus shone with juvenile reluctance.

She knew there existed, somewhere in her mind, a reason why the ceiling above was not familiar. Yet whenever she sought out those words, they would evaded her like a phantom frolicking within the fault lines of memory. The invisible net that bound her head to the pillow was weaved of sedatives and sleep.

The door—there was a door Elsa noted then—opened a small distance. Wisps of white-blonde hair tickled at her cheeks as she turned her gaze to the intrusion.

It was a head.

"Hey, you're awake!" said the head. "Hi!"

Elsa made a noise, or rather it was intended to be a word but lacked formation beyond her throat.

"Wait, I'll get someone." And with that the head was gone, the door left ajar.

The light from outside the room was harsh; it prickled menacingly at dilated pupils causing her body to cower. Elsa tried to roll onto her side but something broad caught her across the chest. When she moved to feel the obstruction, her hands could not obey. She pulled against what held them but was met only with pain both sharp and dull, bloody and bruised.

Oh. Right.

They had transferred her today.

Everything was colourless: the papers she had signed, the pills she had swallowed, the snow outside. There was a car with grey upholstery fresh from its morning vacuuming. She was sitting but also sleeping, her head resting against the window. There was someone sitting next to her and between them rested a bag. She remembered holding the handles of that bag, as thought they tethered her to somewhere more real.

After that, she didn't know.

Voices approached from beyond the door and it swung open with the tail-end of a conversation. The first voice, though feminine, fell deep and broad on certain vowels. The second was melodious, rising and falling as it dithered between indignant and exuberant.

"—did tell you about pickin' locks?"

"It wasn't locked—it was open."

"It was not!"

"Was too!"

"Oh! She's 'wake?"

"I told you so!"

"Wha—what?" Elsa managed, voice thick and stippled. The questions that floated at the brim of her mind were closer to who, where and why. But 'what' covered it well enough.

"Hi." It was the head from before. Only it wasn't just a head. As Elsa's eyes became accustomed to the light, she could see that the head had a face and ears and hair and all the usual things a head should have. Most importantly, it was attached to a body. "I'm Anna."

"Anna, go back to your room," the other figure interjected. "Hello Elsa, I'm Merida. I'm the nurse on-call. Do you know where you are?"

Elsa didn't respond. Her orientation was disrupted, time was gone. The barnacle light was unfamiliar. She understood that she was suppose to be here, but where was here?

"Som—Somewhere." Came the eventual answer. It was tiring to talk; words falling incomplete and breathless upon her chest. "Not home. Not hospital."

"Good, that's very good. You were given something to make the journey more comfortable. It might make everything seem a bit foggy for a while."

Merida smiled and wrote something down in a well-worn clipboard. The nurse's face was round and cherubic in contrast to her intense red hair and sharp blue eyes. On Elsa's other side, bounced the young woman named Anna. Long lashes and a button nose, high cheekbones that curved softly down to a small mouth and delicate chin. She was just blossoming into adulthood; maturity marred only by restless fidgeting.

One hand was pulling at the corner of her green cardigan and the other tapping out a silent rhythm against pink lips. Wide eyes, coloured more blue than green, darted over Elsa's blanketed form.

"You're really beautiful. Even more so now you're awake." She moved the hand from her lips to tuck a few errant strands of hair behind an ear. "Not that you weren't beautiful asleep. You don't even snore!"

Then without any warning both hands were at the blankets, tearing them from their tight embrace.

"Anna! For God's sake!" Merida moved to grab Anna's arms but only succeeded in catching a knitted sleeve. This did little to hinder the girl's actions as the material simply slipped up her arm as her hands continued to work. If Elsa had cared to take notice, what had kept her from moving was revealed to be a broad but pliant white strap laying just above her breasts. Her wrists were encircled by soft brown leather and white padding.

"Geez, you guys used the cuffs too? She's all bandaged up." Then to Elsa, "Does it hurt?"

Elsa however, was oblivious to the concern. Like a butterfly ripped from its cocoon before metamorphism was complete, she was exposed. Wingless, wriggling and pathetically pinioned.

She was going to be crushed where she lay.

Teeth clenched and she pulled at the braces again. This time her right arm came away free, Anna's nimble fingers having loosened the buckle just enough. A horrid pain rooted its way up and down her forearm before disintegrating at the fingertips. By reflex her hand balled into a weak fist.

There was a clatter as the clipboard dropped to the ground. A strong grip clasped Elsa's flailing limb, forcing it back down to the mattress. The technique was evidence of experience; Merida had done this before. The nurse was at a disadvantage though, having to lean her upper body across the bed (and Elsa) to do this.

"Anna, do it back up!"

"No way!"

The nurse rolled her eyes skyward and muttered something that was either a pray for patience or the summoning of a Celtic curse. Elsa, who was being pinned down further by Merida's weight, cried out. The nurse could feel the rapid expansion and contraction of the blonde's ribcage beneath her.

"Close the door then. Hurry!"

This, Anna did. Including herself on the inside of the room.

"Elsa! Elsa, listen to me. You've been restrained for your own safety. We're going to keep that door closed for you, okay? But I need you to relax. Just calm down and try to control your breathing."

"Oh yeah, that's going to work." Anna remarked from the foot of the bed.

"Anna, I swear to God…"

"You're the one freaking her out! Let her arm go. She's just scared."

Merida looked both exasperated and exhausted. Springs of red hair bounced about having escaped the sloppy bun that held them captive.

"Elsa," she tried again, "you're at Stein Psychiatric Hospital. You were transferred here this morning from Central. We'll be taking care of you until you feel better."

The words, thick in Scottish brogue, were seeping into Elsa's conscious. The papers she had signed at the hospital flashed to mind. 'STEIN' had been scrawled in blue ball-point pen at the top right of the first page.

She had agreed to it. Kai had asked her to.

Just because she could not refuse, that did not mean she wanted what came with acceptance. What she wanted was to go home and curl up with Marshmallow and sleep and sleep and sleep. Elsa tried to pull her wrist from Merida's grasp, to rid herself of the five points of pressure against tender flesh.

Anna was watching her, eyebrows drawn together in an expression of distress. She moved forward towards Merida and the instinctual core of Elsa's brain cried silently for mercy.

"Anna. Don't you dare." Merida warned. Their bodies now were side by side, working against one another.

"I'm going to undo this one too but you have to stop squirming." Anna was speaking directly to Elsa who was still immersed in the futile struggle. "Hey, listen to me! If she has to call someone else in, they're just going to stick you with an RT."

Air was sucked in and expelled quickly, drawing dizzying amounts of carbon dioxide from her blood.

"You're okay. You're fine, you're fine." Anna reassured as she worked to open the buckle. Elsa, who was beginning to feel pins-and-needles replace the flesh-and-blood of her extremities, stilled her movements. Whether it was in accordance with her request or because the blonde was paralysed in fear, Anna did not know.

The freed arm lay limp until Anna raised it gently, one hand supporting the elbow and one under the wrist. She held the damp, shaking palm flat against her own sternum.

"Feel this?" she took a deep breath in and held it for a moment. "Breathe with me."

Merida, feeling no more struggle, released Elsa's arm and stepped back. By standard procedure Anna should rightfully be far from the room, her place taken by another nurse and perhaps an orderly on standby. Merida, however, was not one for standard procedure.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Time passed, but how much no one could say. There were no clocks in the room, no windows to track the sun's shadows. It was intended that way to alleviate the pressure of time's governance.

Heavy-lidded eyes were focused on twin braids, strawberry blonde or perhaps copper coloured—Elsa couldn't tell in the dull light—that framed each side of her hand. Everything seemed to be shadowed blue at the edges and her head felt light and stuffed with cotton. But she was okay.

Anna's chest was warm and her shirt was soft. It was perhaps this that calmed Elsa more than the steady rise and fall beneath her palm. The hands nursed her arm with such care that Elsa wanted to cry and hide her face.

I'm sorry. Don't look. Please don't look.

They were the same words she had cried to Kai.

"Sorry." Anna began as though voicing Elsa's own thoughts. "I got a little excited that you were awake. I sometimes…Sometimes I do things without thinking about them."

Elsa didn't quite follow, but she shook her head slightly to dispel any sorrow the girl held. From the blonde's reclined position, the barnacle light appeared partially eclipsed by Anna's bowed head, what remained in view shone behind the girl like a celestial halo.

Their breathing, synchronised and level, became the rhythm of Elsa's world.