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reneejuliet · 5 years

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If These Walls Could Talk

Welcome back.

I’ve wanted to make another post for well over the last week, but unfortunately that desire came while I was working 7 straight days in a row, 12 hours each day. So to say I was a little more than exhausted by the time I got home each day is an understatement. In addition, I’m once again switching to my night shift schedule, so my mind and body are all out of whack. HOWEVER. As I try to go back to sleep this beautiful rainy morning before returning to work tonight, I can’t. Because my mind is alive with everything I haven’t been able to share with anyone this past week, and it needs said.

It’s still a little strange for me to turn to my blog in these moments, and not my journal. As you can imagine, since I was never a very good blogger, I certainly am not a great journalist, either. But it was an outlet - is an outlet, still. Only, with carpal tunnel in my right wrist/hand, it’s become increasingly harder to hash out all the thoughts I want to on paper. Plus, my fingers have always kept better pace with my mind when keys are involved versus a pen; not to mention the legibility this affords me upon later reflection, as sometimes I’ll write so goshdarn fast and messy that even I, myself, can’t decipher what the hell I was trying to say.

So, sleepy and shivering, I welcome you back into the pit of thoughts.

I am going to be addressing some slight depression issues, “broken home”/family issues, self-harm, and anxiety issues in this post. Still not sure how exactly this whole thing works, so I hope this is enough of a warning for anyone sensitive to those.

Without unraveling the entire rat’s nest that is my childhood, let me just say that I’ve never really known a “peaceful” home. Brief summary: my mother was absent a lot due to her own depression, my father has quite a temper, and they both fought like it was their jobs. This is why I came to love Peter Pan - whenever the yelling came pounding through my walls, I curled up underneath my window with my suitcase packed and wished for nothing else than for Peter to come take me away to Neverland. Obviously, this never came to fruition, but it helped some part of my tiny brain cope. If you’ve ever read Peter Pan, you know each child’s Neverland is their own making - I cannot tell you how upset it makes me that every. single. version of Peter Pan never includes Wendy’s pet wolf. All the same, whenever I imagined my own, it was fantastic. Full of wonder and joy and happiness, just like in the story. Only, very unlike the story, I always came home. Here, however, my home was happiness. My parents didn’t fight, my sister didn’t hate me (of course, she didn’t really hate me, but I was the pesky younger sibling that she just couldn’t be bothered with), and no one was ever angry with me. This, I realize, is probably where my anxiety began to stem from - always wanting to please everyone, at any cost. It made for a very self-inflicted traumatic childhood on my end, because I quickly learned to silence a lot of who I was just to satiate what everyone wished of me.

And for a long time, I remained this person. It wasn’t until I was about 10 years old that the depression hit, though we hardly knew that’s what it was at the time. See, I had finally made friends with a group of girls that I could be myself with, and I was happy. But, we were considered weird. Or, at least, they were - they were still more free with themselves than I was, comfortable with making strange noises and doing strange things just because they wanted to. And while I indulged in those moments shared with them, I still kept fairly quiet and reserved when on my own. This led to bullying from my classmates, because of who my friends were. It wasn’t so much aimed at me personally, but at my choice of friends. And these girls meant the world to me - they still do, 2 decades later as our friendship remains as strong as those early days. I couldn’t grasp why someone would make fun of me, tease me, because of something that finally made me happy. There just had to be more that my little preteen brain wasn’t understanding.

There had to be something wrong with me, right?

I promise, this has a point.

My non-diagnosed anxiety (I didn’t even know what anxiety was, back then) only worsened as I began struggling with finding some reason for why these kids were picking on me. None of my friends seemed to care - why did I? Because I was a people-pleaser. It ate away at me to know that someone didn’t like me, regardless of the reason for it. I tried so hard. I let people say what they wanted to about me, I gave people second and third and fourth chances all because I was afraid of what would happen if I stood up for myself. I changed how I acted, how I dressed (a whole other can of worms we will probably never address, haha), how I lived, just to try and fit in with everyone. It was exhausting, and it wore me down quick.

It also didn’t help that by this point, my older sister had hit high school. She was pretty, she was popular, and she was damn good at sports. I’m pretty sure her track record at high school is still intact, and she graduated 16 years ago. This only served to create my inferiority complex.

Why couldn’t I be as great as my sister?

Going back to the family issues - my dad was my everything growing up. He did so much for our family, made sacrifices I never knew how to appreciate until I got older. All I ever wanted was to make him proud of me, to prove to him that everything he did for us wasn’t in vain. I could see that pride in his eyes when he watched my sister excel at sports. Field hockey, basketball, track and field. She had his love in a way I coveted. I played those sports too, while in middle school, but never nearly as well. Never well enough to see that shameless pride gleaming back at me from my father’s eyes. And that killed. Because no matter how I tried, I wasn’t her.

I was more like my mother. Interested in arts (though not art itself, I can’t draw to save my damn life), music, theatre. When I finally made it to high school, I was too damn scared of failure, of being compared to her, to really try anything I had once enjoyed. It distanced me from my father. You would think, then, that this would have brought my mother and me closer; it did not. That chasm carved between us by the lack of her involvement as I grew up was too wide to bridge entirely. I grew to feel isolated in my own family, unwanted and certainly unneeded. What did I possibly bring to the table?

When I turned 16, I told my mom I needed to talk to someone. Depression still wasn’t something anyone really talked about. A taboo in society, frowned heavily upon. Full of labels and judgments I wasn’t able to bear just yet. My mom understood, even if my dad didn’t. He never used to believe in depression. He was one that agreed it was all attention-seeking, an excuse. And here I was, drowning hard and fast in it, afraid to confide in him lest he think less of me as well. So I got good at hiding it. So damn good. Because how do you tell the man you idolize that you’ve started cutting when he’s made the statement of, “if you’re going to start it, you should just finish the job”?

It wasn’t until I was much older that I was able to tell my father much of any of what I suffered through back then. Now, he tries to understand. But he’s getting older, and more ornery, and sometimes that patience wears so thin it could snap in a light breeze. More so now, because I finally stand up for myself. And while he encourages that, he certainly never anticipated I would have to do it against him.

There’s still so much screaming inside these walls. Some of it is mine, now. I hate it just as much, hate how involved with it I’ve become. But I simply cannot shoulder the weight of the world anymore.

Atlas, I am not.

My father and I never used to have such blow-out arguments. I never used to have to scream until my throat burned, my lungs ached, and my chest collapsed. Not with him. Yet I’ll do it a thousand - a million - times over if it means remaining who I’ve become. This version of me may not be perfect, and I’m certainly not happy with her just yet, but it is so much better from who I used to be. Because the girl I once was would have been dead by now. She already very nearly was.

ANYWAY.

This particular fight started over something incredibly stupid - a statement. A belief I have that doesn’t necessarily align with my father’s. I have no political affiliation. He’s a strong Republican. I made the mistake of voicing a belief that apparently leans more liberal, and he just... lost it. Got super nasty with me, made hurtful comments, refused to hear me out. And I know it’s only because he’s getting older, and like his father before him, losing his temper more often because of it. My mom constantly insists I be the bigger person, that I understand the true reasons behind his behavior and brush it off. “You know he doesn’t mean it. You know he’s in pain, how that makes him lash out.”

Yes, I do know. That doesn’t make it okay.

All my life I’ve been the punching bag for this family. The therapist listening to every member complain about each other. All my life, I’ve tried and given everything to fix it. To somehow fit this family into the mould I had imagined for us. All my life, I have sacrificed more and more of me just to make things right.

When is enough, enough?

I called my boyfriend that night, shaking and crying. Trying to understand how a parent can talk to their child that way, wondering when my family became... well, this. He listened oh so patiently, let me just cry in silence until my body was spent. He will never know just how much I loved him in that moment. Because though Peter Pan never came to steal me away, I know exactly where my Neverland is. And it’s in my boyfriend’s arms.

My father still hasn’t apologized for how he spoke to me, let alone what he said. He’s not the type to. I love him with everything I’ve got, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today without him, but. I am done. I am done suffering for his - or anyone’s - sake. Sometimes, it has to be about me. As hard as that is for me to do.

If you have made it this far - if you have read any of this at all - know that you are worth so much more than you think. It isn’t always obvious, and it certainly isn’t easy, but there is meaning in your existence. I still have yet to find what mine is, but I know it’s there. Somewhere. Yours is too.

If these walls could talk I’m afraid of what they’d say The shouting they would echo The image they’d portray But I’m not afraid to hear it because I don’t know what was said No, I heard it all the first time It still rattles in my head

So give me all the silence All the quiet that you’ve got Enough to end the crying And drown out my own thoughts

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forkanna · 5 years

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CHAPTER FOUR

Doc Pabbie's house was empty when she got there. It was the same small house he lived in during the other timeline; apparently not even the knowledge of his own success had changed how he spent his money. She was on the point of leaving, tapping a pencil against a legal pad and trying to think of what to say, when she heard a BOOM from outside. Running to one of the windows, she pushed her hands and face against it to see the DeLorean coming up the driveway.

"DOC!" she cried out with a wide smile. Still glad to see he was alive, despite all the thoughts muddling her mind. "Hey, I was just about to leave you a note that I was here!"

"Go on and leave it," Emmett Pabbie told her as he brought a few boxes of things out of the car and set them on a bench. Some of them were in odd shapes she couldn't quite recognise, and some of them looked very dated. "I'll still need to see it three days from now, when I can find out that I should have been here to converse with you and can travel back to this point and time and meet you."

"I… um, okay," she muttered, realising that he was the expert. She jotted down the date and time and a 'Sorry I missed you!' that felt disingenuous now.

Putting the last of the strange things down, Doc beckoned her forward once she'd finished the note. "Now. What brings you back to my stoop, Ms McFly?"

This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have in the foyer, so they retired to his living room, which didn't have much sitting room anymore since so many of his inventions were crammed into his house. It was still preferable to anywhere else. Before Doc sat down, he jogged to the kitchen and returned, setting a drink box down in front of her.

It was a Yoohoo.

"What seems to be on your mind?" he asked as he poked the straw into his own.

"Well, I uh… yeah." The chocolatey drink distracted her, but she shook her head out as she picked it up and refocused. "So, um, my life is super different now than it was before this whole crazy Goonie adventure happened…"

The next ten minutes were spent trying to explain the major differences, and a few of the minor ones. This time, when she remarked on she and her mother finding each other attractive, Doc was completely unfazed; obviously thirty years had passed since she first confessed what happened to him, so he'd had a lot of time to accept it as reality instead of an unpleasant, taboo concept.

"A real predicament. I could tell you a few passing details about the Anna McFly I know, but I'm not sure they would all be of use to you." Setting down his empty drink box, he sighed, gazing up at the ceiling. "I'm no love expert, but you and young Jennifer seem to be trending along towards a healthy relationship at the usual rate for teenagers approaching maturity. You've only ever spoken highly of your mother, though on occasion she has been firm or gotten on your nerves, which has led to very typical complaints. Nothing too serious or telling. The alcoholism you mentioned the alternate Elsa McFly suffering through is nonexistent in this continuum."

"Alright, good, this is good," Anna said, using the same legal pad to take notes for herself.

"The last big fight I remember you having with your parents… it involved tertiary education." At her blank look, he provided, "University. Elsa and Kristoff are of the opinion that you should go and have the quintessential 'college experience', while you wish to devote your time to your band. Unfortunately for you, I agree with your parents, though I kept my opinion to myself at the time."

Huh. University was never anything she had given serious thought about. It simply didn't seem to be in the cards for her – at least, not before she went on her time-travelling sojourn. Her family wouldn't have been able to pay for it, for starters. Now, given the option, Anna still wasn't sure what she wanted to do. It all seemed to pale in comparison to everything that had happened.

"Geez," she said, head falling to her hands. "Like I don't have enough shit to sort out…"

Doc leaned over and awkwardly pet her knee. "There, there…" He looked about as uncomfortable as Anna felt.

"What do I do, Doc?" she asked, resignation and hope warring across her face. "What do I do?"

"I think…" he began, haltingly. "I think that the future is unknowable: it's always in flux. As long as whatever you do, you're happy… that's the most important thing."

"And if that hurts someone?"

"Then you need to talk to them about it. You can't put your own happiness on hold, but neither can you ignore others' pain."

"So I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't."

"Perhaps you're damned in neither scenario. But you won't know until you choose. Put one foot in front of the other. Progress is progress." Sighing, he ran a hand through his wild hair, still an odd tint of green even in this reality, as he contemplated. "Maybe I have been making a series of mistakes all of my life. Meddling in affairs that have become much too painful. But they were my mistakes to make. Just as you have yours; if you do nothing, that could be the biggest mistake of all. So why not at least give it your best shot?"

"You think so? I should just… do it?"

"I do." Then he raised the drinkbox again. "All you can do is roll the dice, Anna."

~ o ~

Anna returned home hours later, feeling somewhat better. It had helped, to talk – even if she hadn't been given the answers she was really looking for, at least her chest felt lighter.

It was quite late by the time she walked through the front door; the sun had set, and everyone was home – including both Wendy and her boyfriend, Peter, despite the fact that they had their own place. More out of habit than anything else, Anna found herself entering through the side-gate, foregoing the front door – and the chance to accidentally bump any of her family.

She realised her error when the smell of something warm hit her. The table was set, complete with salt and pepper and butter next to various bowls of greens. Gosh, there was even a gravy boat!

"Anna, you're home!" Kristoff's voice was followed by the man himself as he came into the kitchen. "Just in time – dinner's ready!"

And then he opened the oven, and much to Anna's surprise, did not pull out a frozen lasagne. There was a roast on the tray, surrounded by potato and pumpkin and it looked divine. Her parents not only had actually tried to cook, but it looked as if the attempt were successful. Where did the surprises end?

"I… thought you were flying… somewhere else?" she asked haltingly, still trying to get over how good the food looked.

"Decided I could stop over here again before I head out to the East Coast," he said with a chuckle. A little lower, so her siblings in the next room couldn't hear, he whispered, "Wanted to make sure everything was alright. You know… after your talk."

At that single word, she glanced at him, heart trip-hammering in her throat. "Um… you and Mom… you both know everything, don't you? Or like, figured some of it out?"

"Yep. I mean, it would be pretty crazy if we went through all that with you and somehow didn't recognise you when we saw you again, wouldn't it?"

"Guess it would," she whispered. Elsa's laughter from the next room sent a bubbling feeling of joy through her stomach. "Oh… oh, hearing Mom happy…"

"What is it, sweetheart?"

So they hadn't got the chance to discuss everything Anna had told her yet. That was probably for the best. Shaking her head, she beamed up at him. "Nothing, Dad. Nothing at all. Just… so glad to be home. That this is home, and I'm here, and…"

Only after his arms were around her and one of his huge hands was patting her back did she realize her eyes were leaking again. But this time, she was just happy. This time, she was just so happy to have a family that loved and appreciated her, even for all the bumps along the way.

They stayed like that just long enough for Anna to compose herself. By that stage, the rest of the family had showed up and were seating themselves around the table. Anna nearly protested when Wendy sat in her seat, before realising that it probably wasn't her seat anymore.

Dinner was delicious, but Anna didn't expect anything less. She noticed, more than she meant to, the differences between this evening's meal, and the last one she had with the other version of her family. For one, the TV was appropriately positioned in the living room, and off.

For another, instead of a fight, they had a conversation.

"This is great, Dad," Wendy said. "You sure know how to roast a chicken."

Familiar words, without desperation clinging to them. Kristoff laughed – full-bellied and happy. "Why thank you, Wendy. The skill is in the technique. Always remember – take it out of the plastic wrap first."

"Shut it, McFly," Elsa warned him with a smile. "That was only once, and I apologised. My mother acted like I set her on fire and not just a dead fowl."

All through dinner, Anna tried not to give herself away too much to Wendy and John. Kristoff and Elsa were very amenable to glossing over her lapses, so she only had to use phrases like "Oh yeah, I knew that" and "Sorry, I must be tired" to help cover when she didn't know something she was supposed to.

"I thought Jennifer would be here tonight," John laughed as he poured himself some more water from the pitcher. "After all this fuss about going up to the lake, I'm ready for the details."

"You wanted the details for a different reason," Wendy sighed in annoyance. "Men are all pigs."

"Hey, now," Kristoff sighed, though he was laughing and his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Don't be a feminist at your brother at the dinner table. Wait until after dessert."

"You're gonna let her talk to me like that, Dad?" John also didn't seem to be very offended.

"I am, and I will again. What's rule number one in this house?"

All of them except Anna chorused, "Women are always right," and she ended up snorting so hard a pea shot out of her nose. Face burning with embarrassment, she had to hide her face while everyone else died laughing, finally joining them when she got over it herself.

Then they had dessert, and Wendy and John went back to their places, promising to drop by soon. Kristoff and Elsa did the dishes, and Anna shyly stood in the corner.

"Come on, pitch in," Elsa said with a wide smile.

"I… well it doesn't feel…" Squirming, she finally blurted, "I feel like a guest, a-and like I'm intruding on your lives, even though it's my life, too, and… I dunno!"

This whole thing was strange. It was like whenever she was made to visit her grandparents; somewhat familiar, but not necessarily comfortable the way your own house was supposed to be. Still, Anna stepped forward, picking up a tea-towel to help her mother wipe up.

"It won't stay like that for long," Kristoff reassured her. "I suppose… a lot has changed for you, hasn't it?" Anna nodded.

"We're here to help as much as we can," Elsa said. "I'd say your brother and sister would, too, but… it's probably better that they don't know."

Kristoff grunted in agreement, and then grimaced. "Well, for the next week, I'll be here in spirit and moral support."

"Early flight tomorrow?" Elsa asked, and he shook his head.

"Late flight tonight." He looked up to the clock, hanging on the wall, and Anna's gaze followed. "Probably oughtta leave in a few. But I couldn't just skip this."

"I'm glad you came back," Elsa whispered, pecking him on the cheek. It was a lot more like the way she used to kiss John or Wendy when they were leaving the house than a "spousal" kiss. Then again, it was still more kisses than she had given her father in the old reality. "Even if it will throw a wrench into your schedule."

"They don't have a signing without the signer." He finally finished washing the last pot, handed it off to Elsa and grabbed for the towel. "Besides… we've been wondering about this day for a long time."

Anna cleared her throat and tried to speak up. "U-uhm… I, uh…" This was hard. "Dad… I know this is probably just as weird for you as it is for me. Knowing that, um, Mom and I…"

"You don't have to go into detail. It's… I mean, you're talking to a best-selling science fiction author, sweetheart. Even if I don't normally believe the things I write are possible, or happening, I've always expected them to be in the realm of possibility. When we figured out you were Victoria, it really threw us for a loop, but…"

"But it was me who struggled with it the most," Elsa sighed as she rinsed off the last few dishes and set some in the drainer on the counter, and the rest in the dishwasher. "Both because of who we are to each other, and also because I was never as immersed in Trek and Wars and other things like that as your father. Still, we're both pretty smart cookies."

"You are," Anna gushed, putting away her plate and walking over to grab for them. Both parents embraced her tightly. "I'm sorry about… about making things weird, and letting Mom do that with me, but at the same time… I'm so happy!"

Kristoff and Elsa did not seem to share her enthusiasm. If anything, they seemed… concerned.

"Mom? Dad?"

"I think we have time for a movie before I need to catch my flight," Kristoff said as he moved back. He turned away to unplug the sink, and Anna found herself feeling very lost.

Elsa smiled. "Great idea, Honey. Anna, wanna go choose a film? I'll make some popcorn."

It was very obviously not a suggestion. Anna nodded, biting the inside of her cheek and retreating to the living room. What was that about?

Eventually, she settled on Alien – a classic, but she'd never seen it. If nothing else, Kristoff and Elsa would appreciate it. After all, how scary could a movie from the 70s be? She made sure to take her time putting it in the Blu-Ray player, stoically ignoring the muffled vibrations coming from the kitchen. If whatever they needed to discuss was important enough, surely they would tell her, right? She just had to trust that they were better people than she assumed – better people than they had been in another timeline.

Then they joined her. They really came in to watch a movie with her, it was going to happen. Not a suggestion blown off because someone was in a mood, but they made the time – for her. Even if she had ruined the mood somehow, she still knew this was much preferable to how things had been before.

"Here you go," Elsa said with a gentle smile as she handed Anna the popcorn. "And… well, your father and I were wondering. Would you… like to sit between us?"

"Huh? Oh, I… nah," she said with a slightly shy smile. "That's probably weird. I'm practically an adult, I shouldn't be cuddling with Mommy and Daddy anymore."

"You didn't have 'Mommy and Daddy' a week ago, by the sound of things," Kristoff said reasonably as he patted her shoulder. "And about that. Yes, some mistakes were made in the past, but don't you dare think I'll ever forget what you did for me."

"Did for you? Meaning, almost ruined your life?"

"Meaning you turned me from a spineless perv into a real person. Your advice, wherever you got it, either from us in the future or from Doc, I don't really care… helped me a lot. It was hard some days, but I learned how to provide for my family and pursue my dreams at the same time. I'm not surprised everything was worse for me before you helped 'hack' my whole life."

Elsa was gently coaxing the dumbstruck Anna to sit on the couch with them on either side. By the time she recovered, the movie was starting and she had the popcorn in her lap with them both nibbling at it.

"You guys…" Smiling, she started in on the popcorn herself and tried to figure out what she had missed while she was in her stupor.

But then the film began for real, and everyone turned their attention to it. It was better than Anna had thought it would be, though she was wrong with her initial assessment. This film was creepy. Elsa and Kristoff both seemed to enjoy it, and Anna really just enjoyed the company. She wasn't hungry for popcorn – still too full from dinner and dessert – but the bowl stayed on her lap, with her mother and father occasionally taking handfuls.

She wasn't used to this: the closeness. The attention – even though they weren't focussing on her, they were all doing an activity that she had chosen. She could feel her parents pressed quite close against her. The couch was only small, and they – especially her father – were big. So she could feel it every time Elsa shifted – Kristoff, too, but he was easier to ignore. Every time Elsa jumped or leaned forward. Anna had to force herself not to jerk her hand away when it accidentally brushed Elsa's in the popcorn bowl.

It was sweet torture. She fought down her feelings – it was just a movie, they were only watching a movie – and concentrated instead on just… the family aspect of it. Perhaps it was so difficult because it was so different; everything was new and exciting, to a degree. But because she didn't know how she was supposed to feel, it was easy to remember the other positive things Elsa had made her feel.

That was something she was going to have to learn: to retrain herself. That not all positive things were with teenage-Elsa, and not all negative things were with mom-Elsa.

~ o ~

By the end of Alien, she had fairly exhausted herself with fretting over nothing. Her parents wished her goodnight, and she crawled into bed and tried to settle down for sleep.

But sleep refused to come easily. Soon, she would be back in school, worrying about the homecoming dance and Punz, her grades, all that stuff. And on top of that, time travel and having some kind of bizarre attraction to her own mother. This was just too much for any one high school senior to handle!

It was getting close to midnight when her mother knocked on the half-open door. "Can I come in?" she whispered.

"Sure." Sitting up slightly and laying aside her phone, she asked, "Dad on the plane?"

"Yep. Called for an Uber. I, um… I could have driven him, but I felt like I should be close in case you needed me."

Frowning, Anna stared own at her hands on top of her sheets. "I'm not a little kid. Just… messed up right now. But it's temporary! A few days…"

"More than that, I think we both know." Elsa didn't approach the bed. Anna knew, she knew deep in her heart that the reason was her own fault. But she tried not to let that get to her.

"Let me work on it. Before you call for a shrink, or whatever; I think I can… like, if I try hard enough, I think I can fix my head. Stop, um…"

The woman's blonde head tilted to one side. "Stop what?"

She didn't realise? Anna sat up straighter, turning her body more fully towards the woman at the door. There was a faint light behind her, either from the bathroom or the master bedroom, Anna wasn't sure. It gave Elsa a golden silhouette, hiding her age. Despite the fact that this woman had three kids, she could have been mistaken for her 17-year-old self.

"You're gorgeous…" Anna breathed. And then hung her head because she wasn't supposed to be thinking things like this – let alone saying them. How was she going to prove that she could fix this herself when she came out with stupid things like that?

Perhaps Elsa hadn't heard her – or perhaps she was ignoring it – because she took a single step towards the center of the room. "Anna… what is it you want to stop?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Anna whispered helplessly. Hopelessly. "These- these thoughts. But I can do it! I just need some time, I promise!"

She must have sounded so terrible – frightened and upset and even a little angry. Elsa finally stopped hanging back. The sight of her daughter in distress, regardless of the reason, was obviously enough to get her moving.

"It's okay, Anna," she said softly as she sat on the bed. There was still a good two inches of space between them, but that was okay. It was more than Anna had been expecting anyway. "I know. Why don't you tell me about your trip up to the lake?"

Anna snorted. "You make it sound so insignificant…" she said, a tad bitterly. That wasn't fair. It was obvious that Elsa thought the same. She leaned away a little, hurt, but Anna couldn't find it in herself to apologise. It was the truth.

"I trust you," Elsa said in that same low tone. "If you say you can do it, I trust you. And I trust you to come to me if you realise you can't, and you want someone to talk to about it."

"You're so cool about this… it's almost as weird as there being a 'this' in the first place." Sighing, she ran her hands up and down her face. "Thanks, Elsa. I'm gonna do my best."

"Mom."

"What?"

Sighing, Elsa stared at the door with slightly haunted eyes. "Call me 'Mom'. Tori called me 'Elsa', and she said it the way you say it. Not that I'm going to be angry if you slip!" she assured her hastily with a little smile. "Just… asking you to make it easier on me by not doing that."

"But you are Elsa. I… I'll try, but I'm really serious when I say I say 'Mom' like it's a four-letter word, because… she just never tried to understand me, never let me be who I am. We fought all the time and it got really nasty. You're not her. That's a good thing, but it does make it hard for me to call you that."

"Oh. Well… I suppose it would be silly to be upset over you liking me more than you liked her," Elsa chuckled. "Though I have to worry about how you like me."

Hanging her head, Anna looked at her hands for a moment. Tried to fight her way through a mental gauntlet of desires. "I… do want… you to be my mom, but I'm worried that it's too late. Like, I kinda wrote off having a good mom a long time ago, so it feels so great to have you but it also feels like… a lie? I'm really sorry, Mom, I'm not trying to be a butt, I just want you to know how I'm-"

"I know," she breathed, rubbing up and down Anna's back now. She could have melted. Somehow, it felt both exciting and calming at the same time. "Honey, I understand. I may be the only one in this family who does, or ever will. But I'm proof that you can work through it."

"But what if I…?" Anna bit her lip. No, she wouldn't burden her mother with this. Perhaps Elsa knew what she was going to say, because she didn't ask for her to continue.

Actually, Elsa didn't say anything at all. She just kept rubbing the Anna's arm, letting her daughter relax more fully against her. It was… soothing. Nice. Unfamiliar and soft, and for perhaps the first time Anna felt something akin to love for a mother.

Of course, it was still drowned by the love she held for Elsa. And she couldn't see that changing any time soon.

"Mmmm…" Of course, she knew that deviated slightly from the familial reaction she should have given, but it was still relatively mild.

"So. You have school tomorrow, and you and the Punzel girl had a good night last night. Want to talk about either of those topics? Might… be a little easier on you."

"You can tell that?" Elsa only gave her a look, and Anna felt her face warming up again. "Y-yeah, I guess you're the one who could tell best."

"I'm glad you're moving on, Anna. Really." A little self-effacing chuckle burbled out of her, which made Anna turn more fully to sit in her direction. "Oh, I was just thinking… I used to worry that I would be jealous of anyone else you dated. But then I realised I would never be 'losing' you; just… sharing you with whoever you end up with. Like most mothers have to."

That warmed her heart, but Anna still couldn't help nudging her with her elbow. "You, jealous? Didn't expect that. You didn't even seem jealous of Punz in the 80s."

"Are you kidding?! I could have snatched her bald!" They both giggled. "If she wasn't out of reach thirty years in the future, I mean. But… even then, I just thought I could I could win you over by out-gaying her. And I was right, wasn't I?"

"Totally were." They shared a warm smile. For Elsa, the memories were old and faded, part of her past; for Anna, fresh and alive. "I… y-yeah, Mom, it was amazing. I can't believe I was your first!"

Finally, the topic seemed to be catching up to her mother, but she also was seemingly trying not to overreact again. "You were. Not the last, however… there have been other women."

Anna's eyes bugged out. "There have?! WHO?!"

"Another time," she told her firmly, though the mischievous smile said there was much to tell. "Go to bed."

"Can you cuddle me to sleep?" Anna said with an exaggerated pout.

"NO. But if you promise to stay still once I tuck you in, maybe I'll kiss you goodnight. On the forehead."

So Anna obeyed. She crawled under the covers again, pulled them up to her chin, and then let Elsa lean over her and kiss her forehead. Trying not to enjoy it was difficult but she did manage it, only just being glad that her mother was acting like a mother for once.

"Goodnight, my Anna."

"Goodnight, Els- I mean… Mom." After that, despite all her confusion and conflicting feelings, the excitement of the week before, she felt a lot more predisposed to sleep.

~ o ~

The worst part about a good night's sleep was the fact that, at some point, one had to wake up. Anna jolted up at 6:45, the sound of her phone alarm blaring in her ears. It had only been a week, really, and yet she was already terribly out of routine. Shower, clothes, breakfast, then the almost-hour-long walk to school.

She was just wolfing down the last of her toast and heading towards the door when a sudden voice stopped her. "Anna? What are you doing?"

She very nearly choked, and after a few hacking coughs she finally answered with a, "Huh?"

"You heard me," Elsa said, decked out in a nice sleeping gown and fluffy slippers. Anna shrugged, her expression a mix between a frown and utter confusion. Maybe a little terror because it sort of felt like she had been caught sneaking out, even though that was silly.

"Um… going to… school?" she said. Wasn't that obvious? Obviously not. Elsa's eyes flicked towards the kitchen, and the clock hanging on the wall. God it was already 7:10 – she was going to be late!

"You're leaving very early," Elsa commented – and sure it wasn't eleven in the morning and her mother hadn't just woken from a drunken stupor, but still. It really wasn't early at all.

"It's really not, Mom," Anna said. "It's a 45 minute walk-"

"Why are you walking? Wouldn't you just drive?"

Oh yeah. Anna just looked at her for a second before letting her rucksack slip from her shoulders. "You mean I could have had another half-hour of sleep?" she cried. "Ugh."

Elsa laughed. It wasn't like Kristoff's, full-bodied and loud. It was just a giggle – one that had her covering her mouth and being generally adorable. "Sweetie. You really did have a different life, didn't you?" Then she approached and patted her shoulder. "Well, since you're up this early, you might as well get a start on your chores."

Slumping against the nearest wall, she groaned, "Yeah, might as well." But Elsa was fixing her with another look. "What NOW?"

"I'm kidding. You really think I'm going to heap more chores on top of you, after the week you've had?" She walked over and loaded up the coffee machine with one of those tiny little cups of single-serve coffee – the kind her family could never afford to even look into. "Sit, sit. Might as well just relax for an extra ten minutes, then take a leisurely drive to pick up Jennifer."

Pick up Jennifer. Of course they would have been going to school together. Probably every day. "I… well, okay."

"So. If you don't want to tell me about how things went at the lake, how about telling me some of the things I don't already know about your… supernatural journey? Like how it even happened in the first place."

Anna pursed her lips. "How about before I tell you anything, you tell me about some of these other chicks you've been banging?"

"Anna!" But she was laughing. Exasperated laughter, but it was laughter. "A little decorum, maybe?"

"Spill, Mom. I'll tell you about Punz later."

"Alright. I was exaggerating, though; I can count the number of 'chicks' on one hand. Only when you were around four or five did I finally start getting the confidence to… well, date around. Until then, I still felt like it would be 'cheating' on Kristoff, even though he always assured me he didn't mind. Since he's always understood my sexuality isn't purely straight – or even mostly straight."

Anna nodded. That was pretty obvious. She wondered, briefly, if John and Wendy knew of their mother's adventures in 'exploring one's sexuality'. After all, they would have been old enough to realise, if what Elsa was saying was true.

"So, you and Dad…?"

Elsa's smile slipped a notch. "I told you. We still care about each other, and we are friends. But the physical aspect of our relationship petered out long ago."

Anna's eyes widened. "Ohh…. so when you say you're mostly not-straight, you mean… all-in on the gay train?"

At that, Elsa's smile once again returned. She gave a shrug that Anna wanted to define as 'coy', and said airily, "Sure, Anna."

Wow. Honestly it was a miracle her brother had been born, let alone her. Why on earth would they have had three kids if Elsa was… not particularly fond of the act that resulted in them? Anna couldn't imagine doing what she did.

Her disbelief must have shown on her face because Elsa was suddenly shaking her head. "I did, and still do, care for your father. And don't think I merely… put up with him because a stranger told me to when I was a teenager."

"How does he feel about this? Last I saw, he was head over heels for you."

"Oh, he is. What's made this marriage work was that… well, it's kind of your doing," she admitted, head tilting slightly. "You showed us how much we had in common, and how important that was. Sharing those hopes and dreams made us from friends into life-partners. And for a while after you left, and especially after John was born, I tried to convince myself that we were in love and that was enough, but…"

Anna inched a little closer, enough that she could take up Elsa's hand and squeeze it gently. "But you still like the ladies. Is it… with dad, did you have to make yourself…"

"Don't think of it as that difficult. It's just… we cared for each other. It's more like a fluke between two best friends that you kind of laugh about later, except it was several dozen flukes."

"But not true love? Oh…" Anna sighed. "Now I feel kind of selfish for making sure you ended up together just so I could be born."

At that, Elsa pulled Anna into a hug immediately. No waiting. "Don't you ever think that. Don't ever, EVER think that, Anna! I've had a wonderful, full life. A little weird at times, but nobody's life gets to be picture perfect. But I would rather end up living that awful life where I'm an alcoholic than lose you!"

Again, she had to pretend not to be filled with Elsa's enticing scent. Now, it was just her and a light tinge of sleep-sweat, day-old vestiges of perfume… and she still found it as exciting as comforting.

"Love you," was all she managed to whisper. As they broke apart, she cleared her throat to hold back more tears; she had been doing too much of that lately. "So okay, the women these past… what, ten years?"

Elsa's smile had been warm, but it turned a little more catlike as she turned back to the coffee maker. "Well… you've already met one of them. During your trip."

"Really? I mean… wait, so Jazz?" A little shake of her head. "Ariel?"

"Yes. She asked me out while we were in college and very drunk. I wasn't ready – not at all, despite your best efforts! Then a few years ago, she was on a 'break' with Eric, and… I remembered that, so… I'm surprised you don't remember her spending a little more time around here than usual. Though, you were a bit preoccupied." Anna lifted an eyebrow in question, and Elsa shrugged. "It was around the time that Jennifer moved to your school. You were quite… enamoured."

At that, Anna folded her arms over her chest and fixed her mother with a piercing gaze. "So the redhead, hmm? Seems like I'm not the only one with a type."

At that, a gorgeous blush rose to Elsa's cheeks. "It was one woman, Anna!" she cried out. Anna nodded.

"Uh-huh. That's two for two, though – just like me, apparently. Who else was there?"

"Oh, no one you would know…"

With a snort, Anna leaned down to pick up her schoolbag. "That just means the other chicks were probably also gingers. Did they have freckles, too?"

She struck a pose. Instead of laughter, however, her mother looked away, cheeks red. Obviously, this wasn't something they could joke about yet. When she didn't speak, and the silence grew heavy, Anna coughed.

"I, uh, better go and pick up Punz," she suggested, looking down.

Elsa jumped on the subject change. "Oh, yes. I have, er, errands and such, too. Don't forget that you have band practise at Merida's this afternoon." Anna nodded. "Okay."

"Okay. Um… bye, Els- Mom."

"Bye, sweetheart."

Band practice. That was hopefully something else that hadn't changed. She hoped other-version her wasn't better at playing or singing than she was – that would be a pretty bad tell if she was suddenly shit.

Well, more shit.

TO BE CONTINUED…

#Fractal The Future #fruipit #forkanna writes #Back to the Future #elsanna fanfiction #elsanna #jess the writer #because I'M jess lol

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