#and lemme tell you it does not spark joy. none of this sparks joy. it had so much potential and its all????? going down the drain????????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ravenwritesstuff · 5 years

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Shelter (1/?)

Fandom: Frozen (modern AU, no magic) Pairings: Kristanna (Kristoff/Anna),previous Hanna (Hans/Anna) Rating: T for now, M for sure later. A/N: Just going to drop this chapter here. I have the second one written and the whole damn thing plotted but probably will never finish it (kind of my MO), so if you at least want the second chapter lemme know. I’ll post it, too.

...

Her hands shake as she sets her phone back on the counter. The pen in the other hand trembles above the pad of paper next to it as she looks at the date and time she had scribbled during the call.

We got in.

The thought loops in her brain and as the initial shock of it fades a smile rips across her face.

“Who was that, mom?” A sticky-faced first grader asks from the folding table across the kitchen, feet dangling as she does her homework.

Anna presses a hand against the butterflies in her stomach - feeling the words that will change their lives bubble up.

“It was the house people.” Now she has two identical pairs of eyes on her and she sees the mirror spark of excitement ignite in them at her words. “We got in, babies! We’re going to get a house!”

She lets her daughter knock her to the floor into a pile of giggles and tries to not let the fact that her son does not join dampen her joy.

….

“We’ve got all your papers in order now.” Gerda, her coordinator slips the last signed page into Anna’s folder with smile. “So now we have to discuss how you’re going to cover your sweat equity hours.”

“Oh. I am ready to get started right away.”

Gerda, a woman old enough to have heard this same sentiment a few thousand times, smiles.

“Now this is hard work.” Her tone is gentle. “And you have two young ones.”

“They’re in school during the day - and there are after-school programs I can enroll them in if I need to.”

She hears her own voice - so eager it hurts.

“We require four hundred hours.”

“I know and I am ready to do whatever it takes -”

“I know you are, dear. That’s why you were selected.” Gerda clasps her plump hands on top of the desk across from Anna. A well worn crease forms between her brows. “I’ve seen a lot of people come through here wanting to conquer the world in a week, but this is the long haul. We’re talking at least a six-month commitment, probably closer to a year, and on top of working towards your certification and raising children on your own -”

“I can do it.” She has been rebuilding her life from the ground up for the last four years - building a house cannot be that much different. “I can do it.”

Gerda’s lips purse. “It is just very important that you understand the length and seriousness of this commitment before we begin. If you back out at any point there will be no recuperation for any of the hours you put in.”

“I won’t back out.”

“Ms. Arendal - “

“I won’t.”

Two breaths then: “Fine enough. Then if you feel you understand what is required of you all I need is a signature here.”

Gerda pushes one last page to Anna’s side of the table. Anna signs.

“All right then.” Gerda takes the page before the ink even dries and passes a thick packet to Anna. “Here is your work assignment as well as rules and regulations. I am available for questions during normal office hours - but your best bet will be to direct your questions towards your site supervisor.”

Anna flips open the first page and finds a name.

Kristoff Bjorgman

“Got it.” She closes the packet and smiles. “I can’t wait to start.”

….

“And remember today you are going home with Miss Ariel and Melody.”

It’s a brisk Tuesday morning, spring not quite ready to stick, as Anna waits for the crosswalk signal to change. Her palms are clasped tightly around small mismatched-mittens as the red hand flashes to a white stick figure.

“We know, mom.” It’s her son, Aiden, and she doesn’t even have to look down to know he is rolling his eyes. Six-years-old going on sixteen - she winces but lets his sass slide this time. They’re running late as it is.

“Miss Ariel will help you with homework and feed you dinner and I’ll be over to pick you up as soon as I can.”

“It’s going to be so fun!” Brantley says from the other side of her, red braid swinging. “Can we have dessert?”

“It’s a school night. Miss Ariel has the same rules we do about desserts on school nights.” Anna squeezes her daughter’s hand, palm warm through the worn wool.

“It’d probably be something dumb like fruit anyway.” Aiden pulls his hand away as they step onto the opposite sidewalk.

“Nuhuh! Mom tell him to stop being such a grouch.”

Anna’s head swims. It is not even half past seven in the morning and she is already exhausted. Gerda’s warning about taking on too much pops into her mind, but she shoves it aside. She has to do this - not just for her children but for herself, too. She needs to prove to herself that she can do this.

“Aiden - honey - this is just how it’s going to be for a little while ” She has already explained ad nauseum to the twins that she cannot take them to the job site. As expected - one took it better than the other.

“Yeah? Well it sucks.”

Anna bites her lip. Aiden knows better than to use that word and she knows he is just trying to get a reaction out of her, so she tries to not let it show that it does. Instead she looks at him - his auburn hair poking out at all angles. How he has both the best and worst qualities of his father will always amaze her.

“It will get better. Things will just be a little harder for awhile.”

Aiden mumbles something under his breath, but she does not catch it. She does not even try. When they get to school - only Brantley kisses her goodbye.

….

She parks two blocks down the street from the site and runs.

“Are you Anna?” She hears a voice ask when she finally stumbles onto the site.

She turns towards the sound and is nearly blinded by the low afternoon sun. She squints and shields her eyes (from the sun and something else) but she still cannot make out more than a large shadow. The air is brisk but she is sweating, nerves working against her. It takes all of her courage to not step back.

“Yes. I am. I’m Anna.” She swallows panic.

“You’re late.”

She deduces that this must be the site manager - Christopher? She cannot quite remember from the papers, learned panic erasing her train of thought, and she can’t quite get everything in focus when her head and heart are spinning.

“I know. I’m sorry. My last client likes to talk and - “ She makes excuses all while digging her heels in against retreat.

He isn’t that kind of guy.

At least she doesn’t think so.

At least she won’t let him be. She takes a deep breath.

“You can pick up trash today.” He cuts her off before she even has a chance and it catches her off guard. Her tongue ties. “The dumpster is over there.” He points. “Ask someone to make sure before you throw any scrap in there. It may be useable, and don’t forget to check in to get your hours.”

Just as quickly as he appeared, he is gone and she is left slightly dumbfounded. She was uncertain just what she had expected as a welcome but that certainly was not it. She squares her shoulders anyway and looks around. The site is not exactly messy but she can tell there is clean-up to be done. She checks the time on her watch, makes note, and sets to work.

….

She’s lugging a discarded pallet towards the dumpster, muscles straining, hands burning.

“Hey!”

She hears the call but does not respond. No one here knows her well enough to hale her.

“Hey you!”

It is closer now, close enough that she looks up from her task to find someone striding towards her. The setting sun lights sets the fringe of blonde hair poking out from under his hard hat on fire. Frost edges his breath, pours from his mouth and she had forgotten how cold it is getting with the sun’s retirement. She’s only been on site an hour but she knows that this is the man who greeted her (site supervisor and from what she can tell total jerk) and the look on his face is none-too-happy.

“What are you doing with that?” He asks as he approaches her, adjusting the worn tool belt at his hip

“Taking it to the dumpster?” it comes out far more as a question than she wanted.

“Don’t. It doesn’t go there.”

“Where does it go?”

He is close enough now that he grabs the pallet from her hands as if it was a butterfly’s wing and she meets hard brown eyes. She tries not to flinch but her inside are quaking.

“I can take it if you’d just tell me -”

“If you wanna know you can follow me.”

He turns on a heel and she is left shaking in her thrift store work boots for one moment at his abruptness before she finds the strength to follow.

------

The next few hours go without incident. Everyone else on site seems to at least be pleasant and she hopes that whatever Christopher’s problem is that it will be resolved by the next time she sees him, but she isn’t holding her breath. She has experience with men and the depth of their moods, catered to them for longer than she should have, but she is done with that now.

By the time she goes to pick up the twins from Ariel’s she has all but put the gruff site manager out of her mind.

------

The next morning she is introduced to a new level of soreness. Even her fingers ache which is not good considering she had to give two facials and three Swedish massages today. She pops four Aspirin with her coffee and stretches at the kitchen counter.

“What’s the matter, momma?” Brantley swings her feet as she spills more cereal than she eats.

Anna smiles through a wince. “Nothing, baby. Just sore from yesterday.”

“From building our new house?”

“No. Not our house,” Anna looks at the clock. They are running late. “I have to help build another house before I can build ours.”

Aiden snorts. Anna pretends not to notice.

“When do you get to build our house?” Brantley asks and Anna wishes she had an exact date, but she doesn’t.

“I’m not sure baby, but I am working really hard to make it as soon as possible.”

“That’s so dumb.” Aiden swings his leg too hard and kicks Brantley under the table (whether on purpose or on accident Anna will never know) and Brantley yelps.

“Mom! Aiden kicked me!” Brantley’s eyes already well with tears and Anna wishes she could climb back into bed and start over.

“He didn’t mean to. Did you Aiden?”

Aiden shrugs and stares into his cereal. Brantley’s bottom lip trembles. Anna wants to set herself on fire, but instead she goes and ruffles her daughter’s hair.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. The table is small and he didn’t mean it. Did you, Aiden?” Anna pulls out her mom voice and it brings just enough attention from her firstborn for him to shake his head the negative.

Brantley sniffles. Her cereal bowl is almost empty.

“How about two more bites and then brush teeth, okay? We have to leave soon.”

Brantley shovels two spoonfuls of mostly sugary milk into her mouth and skips down the hallway of their apartment to the bathroom. Aiden stirs his spoon.

“You too, kiddo.” She takes the one step to the table (small kitchens had their benefits) and reaches to ruffle auburn hair, but he dodges her touch. He shoves back from the table.

He starts down the hall, but not before she hears him mutter: “If you’d just made it work with dad you wouldn’t have to build a dumb house.”

A secret part of her heart crumbles.

If only she had….

She shakes her head. No. That wasn’t an option then and it isn’t an option now. She grabs their cereal bowls and takes them to the sink to scrub them. She may not have much control over her world, but she can control if her sink is clean or not.

She focuses on that.

------

She has never wished to die. She never will, but today - oh - today - she pops six Aspirin.

Aiden will not get dressed. Brantley forgot to finish a page of her homework and is certain now she will mess up her marks and is sobbing. Anna wants to cry, too, but there are things to do and clocks to punch and she has to try to pretend she care when all she wants to do is quit. She wants to curl up and sleep for decades, but she won’t.

She can’t.

She doesn’t.

It is a miracle they all get out the door with pants on.

------

It’s her fifth consecutive day on site and she has managed to avoid Christopher until now. She’s kept a careful distance since her first day, deferring instead to the assistant supervisors, not wanting to incur his wrath or be perpetually stuck on trash duty. He approaches her as she sands a windowsill.

“You should wear gloves.” He nods at the bandages on her hands where blisters had popped up from the rough work. “It helps.”

She is dumbstruck at first, surprised, then: “I don’t have any.”

He is doesn’t ask why. That level of sensitivity she can only attribute to him being used to that on this job.

“There are extra pairs in the bed of my truck. It’s the blue chevy right there.” He gestures with his head. “Help yourself, just make sure you return them.” He points at the tool in her hand.“While you’re at it go switch out your sanding block. You’re using the wrong grain. You should be using medium.”

And with that he is off and she is left with her head spinning. She watches him go join some other workers as they put finishing touches on the framework and sits there with mind whirring. She only allows herself a moment though before she shakes herself out of it and moves. She won’t over think it, this random kindness, even though she wants to. No. She will do what she is told. She will get a house for her children.

But when she finds his truck and the leather gloves just as he said there would be (women’s sizes included) she can’t help but wonder if she had judged him a little too quickly.

------

She forgets what time off means. She thought she had known busy as a single parent before she started with Habitat. Gerda’s warning resonates now, one week in.

I’ve seen a lot of people come through here wanting to conquer the world in a week, but this is the long haul.

It is a Saturday morning. Every inch of her body throbs. Her friends Belle and Adam had agreed to take Aiden and Brantley so she could be on site today and log some real hours.

She rolls to her side and plants her feet on the ground with head swimming.

Tears well in her eyes unbidden. She pushes them back.

This is just the first chapter of this new part of her life.

She has had many new chapters, new parts.

Each has brought their own pain.

This is no different.

She stumbles to the bathroom, sun still sleeping, and flips on the light. She grabs the Aspirin and dry swallows four tablets.

Today is going to be a very long day.

_____

It is lunch on site (her first yet) and she forgot to pack one. Between trying to get the twins ready for the day and her exhaustion she had forgotten to pack food (not that the selection in her cupboard was great but it was better than nothing). She is four hours into an eight hour shift and all she has to eat are the fruit snacks she had stashed at the bottom of her purse for the twins.

She eats them quietly on the outskirts during break, trying to not draw attention, trying to not worry about her aching stomach. Then:

“Hey. Why are you eating all by yourself?” It is the lovely young woman she had noticed from one of her first days on site but had not yet met.

Anna just shrugs. She’d kept to herself since arriving, not mixing with the others, not sure if she was allowed to or if she was okay with allowing herself to.

“Get your behind over here!” The other woman waves and Anna hates to deny but also hates to let them know her failure, to let them know she has no lunch to eat.

Still she goes, uncertain how to deny, and sits as far aways as she can without being rude.

She has seen all of these workers at different times during the week, but they are all here now. She does not know if they are staff laborers or placement seekers like herself. Still, she smiles and tries to act like she belongs.

“Hi,” she waves low from her lap and everyone smiles.

“I’m Tiana,” the invitation giver offers introduction, dark curls falling into hazel eyes.

“I’m Anna.”

“You getting yourself a house?”

Anna blinks, the abruptness of her new acquaintance startling, but she nods her head.

“Good. I am too. Fact is all of us are. You are either going to see me or Naveen - that’s my husband - on this site till one of us drops dead or catches on fire.”

She looks at the ragtag group for the first time in earnest. She’d been so focused on the work that she had failed to notice how many of them have the same second hand clothes and dime store boots she does For the first time she breathes a little easier. She’d known that others would be working on the site but she had somehow missed the connection that they might be just like her.

“I’ve only just started but it feels like I’ve been at it for years.” Anna laughs a bit, but it falls flat.

Tiana’s face is serious.

“Days like that come often, but you have to remember why you started. Write it down. Stick it to your bathroom mirror and don’t let anything stop you.”

This woman’s determination sends shocks through her and she sees the mark of struggle on her face the same as she feels inside. Anna thinks of her children. She thinks of the life they had before she’d left their father. She remembers that final night when -

She clenches her fists and forces a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget.”

Tiana smiles knowingly and shares her hard boiled eggs with her.

------

The spa smells like lavender and money. She knows she is lucky to have landed this job out of school but still she cannot help but feel the weight of it. The clientele, the volume, the pressure to bring in more clients.... It alls adds up.

Ariel comes in between appointments, a lunch break she wishes she could just push through and work but has to take.

“How are you?” Her lilting accent is unnoticed by Anna, by everyone else at the spa who used to work with her. They are used to it.

“Fine.” She takes the salad Ariel offers her. It isn’t quite warm outside yet, but where they sit on the bench a few doors down from the spa the sun makes up for the difference.

“Yes?” The way she phrases it as a question makes Anna feels defensive,

“I’m. Fine.” She stuffs salad into her mouth as if to prove a point.

“Okay.”

They eat in silence for several strained bites, then:

“Aiden isn’t doing well.”

Anna has to hold back the REALLY?! that is brewing beneath her skin because she knows. She knows more than Ariel wants to imagine, and even the silent admission from someone else make it more real somehow. Ten million doubts and questions assaulted her at once. She is not enough, she cannot be enough, she is failing her children, if she had just made it work with -

She shuts that train of thought down.

Ariel shut that down with her preternatural understanding: “I know.”

They eat more salad before she continues with:

“He asks about Ha - uh - his father.” Ariel stumbles a bit, her native tongue different than Anna’s and there are moments of translation - transition - where her polite nature wars with her curiosity.

Even with her friend’s tacit strategy - it is salt in the wound.

All she has done in the last three years is try to get past that - try to get past him - but she has made her choices and he is one of them. She has come to accept that. She chews and swallows a hefty bite of romaine.

“He’s mad at me. He doesn’t remember anything. He doesn’t understand.”

Ariel is silent then. They haven’t covered much of her marriage, but enough that Ariel understands what she means. She reached out and grips Anna’s forearm, stills her eating, and looks her dead in the eye.

“You did the right thing.”

Anna wants to melt into the reassurance, to snuggle down tight and swallow it so that all she feels inside and out is safe and warm and right, but all she feels is cold. All she feels is worn. All she feels is sore.

She looks back at the salad Ariel brought her, suddenly uninterested.

“I know.”

“Have you ever - you know - thought about talking to him about it now that he is older? Telling him why his father isn’t around and where he is now?”

Anna shakes her head. Those who know her best, who know the truth, occasionally ask her this, but she is not ready. It is just easier to take the blame than it is to tell her children the truth, to let tell them their mother is a coward and their father a criminal.

“He wouldn’t understand.”

Ariel is quiet for a moment, taking a few bites, then: “He is your kid so you have to do what you think is right, but I think if you ever tried to explain you would be surprised.”

Anna stabs at her salad, suddenly very not hungry.

“Yeah?” She mumbles. “Too bad I hate surprises.”

-----

She is massaging one of her (very few) regulars when there is a gentle rap at the door. The spa typically never interrupts a session unless something is urgent. She murmurs a quick reassurance to her octogenarian client (whom she is fairly certain is asleep) before slipping into the dim corridor where the salon coordinator relays the news.

Aiden is in the principal’s office.

Again.

She takes the call and arranges a meeting - head pounding.

She returns to the small, dark room she works on and to the massage she had been giving but she can hardly focus. Her mind is a dizzy whirl of schedules and conflicts and she is just not sure how she can make this all work.

But she can.

She will.

She has to.

#kristanna #single mom au #au #kristoff #anna #frozen #fan fiction #raven writes stuff #I swear you all are bad influence

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