*pokes head around corner* H-Hi, guys… Sorry it's been another month; you won't believe all the stuff that's happened in my life lately. Moving into my first apartment by myself, getting a new puppy, moving my parents down to Miami, Florida, and suddenly having to pack up my grandmother and also move her into an independent living facility also down in Florida has really left me little time to work. Then let us not forget I also work a full time job…

Yeah, month from hell. Anyway, the good news is I managed to outline the rest of the story at work the other night and I can proudly say that Sucker Punch should finally be concluded in six more chapters! Give or take a bit of adding or subtracting due to chapter length, but that's what I've planned out. So! Without further ado, what you've all been (hopefully still…) been waiting for…!

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fight Within

When I wake up the next morning, Elsa's gone, a quickly written note waiting for me on the coffee table instead. Hastily reaching for it as realization of Elsa's absence dawns on me, I nearly fall off the couch in doing so.

'Anna,' the note reads. 'I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday and in case anything I did or said offended you. I'm sorry I turned away your comfort and I'm sorry I locked myself in my room instead of coming to you. The hot chocolate you left was delicious however, despite not drinking it for another two hours. Thank you.

'I apologize for not waking you this morning and still not coming to you, but I felt going for a run on my own would help clear my head. I know you would have preferred to come along, but I really want to start trying to be more independent—stronger. I know you don't mind me constantly relying on you, and for that I'm thankful, but I promise you I will start to do my best to fight my own battles. You're welcome to hang around until I return, but I understand if you want to give me a taste of my own medicine by leaving before I return. I love you. - Elsa.'

The note is basically exactly what I was expecting, yet I'm still left wondering why Elsa insists on wanting to do this alone. I mean, I understand her wanting to be more independent—I did read the letter after all, really—but in my opinion, she hadn't even been relying all that heavily on me before this. Maybe that's just me, and even if I was smothering Elsa with support and help I wouldn't know because I love this girl so much, but still. If I'm not complaining about Elsa being so dependent, why does she constantly feel the need to push away from me? Is it strictly because Milo said so a few weeks back? Or is this all some internal pride Elsa has going on?

My stomach decides to grumble then, and any train of thought I had is lost. Typical.

Rolling my eyes at my stomach's ineptitude to be patient, I fold Elsa's letter before stashing it in the pocket of the hoodie I had fallen asleep in. You know, just in case the opportunity to address it comes up. Knowing me, I'd do anything in my power to make Elsa understand her apologies are never needed, but neither is the need to distance herself—and, also knowing me, I'd go as far as creating an opportunity to bring the note up.

I end up following Elsa's lead in going for a run. Luckily, and especially in the winter, I'm more often than not dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie on the regular, so there was no need for me to go home and change or anything. In fact, the distance from Elsa's place to my own made for a decent run.

Nabbing a bagel from Elsa's kitchen on my way out—what, I'll pay her back for it!—I munch on it steadily on the elevator ride down. Of course, once the beast that is aptly named my stomach is sated for the time being, my brain takes the chance to resume my thoughts of Elsa.

Because, honestly, when am I not thinking about Elsa?

Still, I start to think as I enter Central Park to begin my run home, did all that happen yesterday really constitute the effects? Maybe I'm not one to judge, being more of an outsider with this whole ordeal, but I thought Elsa did pretty damn good. Sure, I wasn't the one being asked the questions; I wasn't the one in the beginning stages of a clinical trial; I wasn't the one getting a prosthetic…

Okay, maybe on second thought, Elsa acted exactly as one would think.

But still going straight to her room upon returning home? Not acknowledging me in the slightest when I tried to comfort her? Remaining alone in her room for a good 18 hours? Again, I'm no expert, but being left alone with the thoughts I'm sure Elsa had swarming her mind can't be healthy, can it?

More questions for Milo, it would seem.

Just as my train of thought is about to switch gears—but still on Elsa, mind you—something colliding into me has me collapsing to the ground in a heap, my only coherent thought in that moment being, so that happened.

I feel a stinging in my palms as I work to break my fall, and I guess I have the cold weather to thank that my knees were better protected due to my sweats, as even they tingle a bit as I make the effort to get to my knees.

"I'm so sorry, are you hurt?" a kind, alert voice asks.

Gritting my teeth, I have half a mind to shove my definitely-bleeding palms into this stranger's face and bellow, what's it look like, Sherlock? but then I remember it hasn't even been an hour since I woke up so I'm still my morning grump—no matter what the nearest clock says—and that he/she can't see any blood from their vantage point. So instead, I look up, following tattered sneakers and slim back track pants, up to a chiseled face and moss-green eyes.

I'd go on about the hair too, as it's only a subtle shade darker than mine, but the outrageously obvious sideburns has me choking back a guffaw and immediately brings this stranger's attractiveness from a 10 to 3.

"Are you hurt?" the stranger repeats, now going as far to reach a hand out to help me up.

I spare my bloody palms a glance before grimacing and moving to stand up on my own.

"I'm fine," I reply. "Maybe a bit startled, 'cause I was seriously lost in my thoughts back there, but… Yeah, fine."

"I'm truly sorry," Sideburns repeats again. "I was changing the song on my iPod, and by the time I looked up, you were on the ground."

I shrug. "Happens to the best of us. Plus it probably doesn't help that I'm a natural born klutz."

Sideburns chuckles. "Well, to repay you, can I buy you lunch? Or just a cup of coffee?"

Well that came completely from left field. I mean, I know he just knocked me over, but a simple apology was all I was expecting. Not…a date.

"Uh…I…"

"I'm sorry, was that too brazen?" Sideburns asks, yet doesn't seem to look apologetic this time at all.

"A little, yeah," I reply honestly. "I mean, I'm fine. Nothing's broken or damaged, so there's nothing to repay me for. I mean, yeah my hands got scraped up, but I have plenty of band aids at home, so…"

"Well, at the very least, I'm Hans," Sideburns informs me with what's probably supposed to be a charming smile, and maybe if I wasn't so…well, gay, I'd be swooning by now.

"Anna," I quip back, not at all turned on by "Hans's" attempts to be suave.

"So, my assumptions were correct."

That has me quirking an eyebrow. "About what?"

"You're that Anna," he reveals. "The boxer trained by Elsa Arendelle."

I blink, the surprise from being recognized in public for the first time startling. Then, I see Hans's smile go from polite to devilish, and I suddenly feel for Elsa in her fear of being recognized.

"You're also…her lover, am I correct?" he basically taunts.

"Excuse me?" I bite out. "How is that any of your business?"

Hans just shrugs, continuing to look coy. "I make it my priority to know every little thing going on in Elsa's life. Up until recently, for the longest time that was a very difficult thing to do, but then you came along. Tell me, how is it some kid was able to bring down the Ice Queen's walls?"

What is this guy, a stalker? Ice Queen? Kid?!

"I was going to assume you and Elsa were friends, but after that latest spiel, I'm going to settle for enemies instead, am I right?"

Hans scoffs and rolls his eyes, and I'm getting more and more tempted to just punch the guy and continue merrily on my way, but part of me keeps me back. If Elsa's involved, especially with someone as slimy as this guy seems to be, it's my duty as "best girlfriend ever" to stand up for her in her absence.

Right?

So, hell if I know, this being my first girlfriend I've ever had to stand up for, but this guy is just sending off bad vibes in waves, so maybe it's best I do stay put.

"I like the term 'friendly rivals,' but I'm sure Elsa would disagree," Hans explains.

"I'd have to back that wager," I quip.

Hans's grin just grows. "So," he prods, "care to answer my question?"

I roll my eyes and retort, "Which one? 'Cause I'm more than just her 'lover,' I'm her friend, and I sure as hell don't have to show how I brought down her 'walls' to someone who obviously couldn't care less."

"But I do care," Hans replies with such fake sympathy I almost gag. "After all, it's Elsa who ruined my life."

Now I scoff. "Sure. Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"Well, that's because you're young and naïve. Not to mentioned blinded by a false love."

"Excuse you?" I snap, standing to my full height and getting in his face—which, admittedly still leaves a few inches between our eyes, Hans being quite tall. "Naïve? Blind? False love?"

"Oh, Anna," Hans sighs sickeningly. "Anna, Anna, Anna, you have so much to learn about our dear Elsa."

"Then, please, enlighten me," I mutter.

Crossing his arms, Hans leans away with a smug smile. "I'll say this: has it ever occurred to you why Elsa hasn't been in any 'relationships' before you? Are you really so foolish to believe that once she's back to her old self she'll still rely on you? Want you around? Love you?"

"You're underestimating what Elsa and I have."

But, a darker part of my mind juts in, isn't that something I've subconsciously feared for a while now? Hans may be on to something.

No! I scold myself. He's wrong! He has to be! He's just putting me on.

Right?

Hans laughs. "I see I struck a nerve." Grin curling once again, he turns on his heel and begins to walks away. "Think about it, Anna; Elsa's using you. That girl can't love to save her life, although I'm guessing she's putting on a pretty good display from how loyal and whipped you are by her. Also," he looks over his shoulder, and I can see the challenge in his eyes, "if you ever want to fight a real boxer, come to the empty lot behind The Dakota on Tuesday night. I'll show you a real fight. See how 'Elsa's prodigy' holds up when it matters most."

Then, he saunters off and I can almost see the smugness radiating from him. I stand in place silently seething for several minutes, before the clenching of my fists has my palms protesting in pain. Shaking my head violently to clear that bizarre, unpleasant and unwanted encounter, I continue on my run.

Except Hans's words refuse to leave me alone.

What if he's right? I had thought it myself, what would happen between Elsa and me once this whole ordeal is over. It goes back to what I thought before. The only Elsa I know is damaged, broken Elsa; while she's gradually healing and I'm getting glimpses of her past self, is that really what I'm seeing? Will she be the Elsa before all this happened? Will that be for the better or the worse?

My mind is at war with myself as I continue sprinting through Central Park, hoping how greatly I'm wearing myself out will calm these raging thoughts.

All this also begs the question: why does Hans seem to hate Elsa so much? He made it blatantly obvious to only begin insulting her when I didn't deny being her "lover;" up to that moment, he had seemed kind and pure. Good thing he didn't keep that façade up for long, otherwise I might have truly fallen for it.

It also seemed as though Hans has known Elsa for a while, like maybe even going as far back as before Elsa first made the Olympics. If so, he does know a lot more about her than I ever could hope to at this moment in time. Did that automatically make him the expert here? Or was it me? Because I'm the closest person to Elsa in the present.

What was up? What was down?

When I finish my run three hours later after having run the perimeter of Central Park at least three times, I wind up back at Elsa's without a second thought—seriously, I basically don't even go to my own place now except to get new clothes. Still not having my own key—another thing I should maybe bring up here soon—I settle for knocking. Elsa answers quickly, beaming relief present on her face as she drinks me in.

"Anna!" she exclaims before she has me in a tight embrace. "I was hoping you'd come back! I'm so, so sorry for last night. Do you forgive me?"

When I don't say anything immediately nor return her hug, she pulls me back, frown soon creasing her features.

"Anna?"

I blink, and my gaze focuses on her; on her worry, her concern, for nothing else but me.

But is that real concern, or another show? the darkness left in my brain by Hans taunts maliciously. Don't fall for her tricks.

"I…" I start to say, my voice thick and throat dry from the rigorous exercise minutes prior. "I ran into someone you know."

I'm still in my right mind enough to notice the adorable look that is Elsa curious as she cocks her head.

"Who?"

Looking up at her meekly, I speak, "Hans?"

Her eyes are immediately flooded with a variety of emotions, all of which I pick up on the instance they flash by. Surprise, fear, anger; they're all present.

"W-What did he say to you?" she asks.

I cross my arms indignantly and huff. "Nothing nice once he learned I was 'that' Anna. He tried to convince me that I was in over my head with you and that I'm blinded by ignorance and love in thinking you're worth all the love and attention I and everyone else give you." I roll my eyes and bite out, "He even tried to tell me that the love you have for me is all a façade, and once you're better, you'll cast me aside like some broken toy."

I can see Elsa's eyes wavering now, though the anger is more present than any pain. Reaching out, she pulls me to her in a crushing hug, cradling my head tenderly.

"You don't really believe any of that, do you?" she questions in a whisper, where I can just begin to pick up on the fear seeping in to her tone.

Good question, the bad part of my brain retorts. Give us a few weeks or so and try asking again.

"No!" I cry out, to quell her worries and silence the incessant voice in my head. "Only you and I know what we have, and it's beautiful. Pure." Kissing her, I add, "Hans can't possibly even begin to understand it."

She smiles, but I can still see that his words have upset her as much as they did me. Kissing my forehead, she pulls away, most likely finally picking up on the fact that I've been sweating.

"Did you go for a run too?" she asks.

I nod. "More like a sprint, actually, once Hans left."

Elsa chuckles and just shakes her head as she sits down at the kitchen island to continue her lunch. Taking the stool next to her, I decide now's as good a time as any to ask about her and Hans's past; see if there's anything that makes it obvious why Hans seems to hate her so much.

"So," I drawl out kind of awkwardly, always hating to pry in Elsa's private affairs, but also insanely curious. "Why does Hans dislike you so much?"

Elsa chuckles. "'Hate' is probably the better term."

I laugh abashedly. "I didn't want to sound too harsh."

Elsa flits me a smile before becoming somber once more and sighing. "I suppose you could say we've always been like this since the beginning," she begins. "I met Hans freshman year of high school. Believe it or not, for the first two years, we were best friends."

"Really?" I can't help but balk.

"I don't suppose he tried to 'charm' you in your brief meeting, did he?"

I mimic gagging, getting another giggle from Elsa, before answering, "Unfortunately."

"Well, I fell for it," she explains. "He was just so nice at first. I have always had trouble making friends, but with him, it just came easy. It helped that we had almost all our classes together. Even outside of school, we spent a lot of time with each other; so much so that my parents came to see him as the son they never had. He was charming with them, caring with me, and the all-around 'cool guy' at school. All the girls were jealous that I was so close to him without putting in any effort.

"I guess that's where the story turns," she sighs. "Come the end of sophomore year, Hans asked me to a end of the year school dance. I said I'd go, only because I was too naïve to believe he had asked me with intentions other than as friends. We go the dance and start to have a good time. We danced, we laughed, and then he began to flirt." She looks at me as she says, "You remember how I told you about how oblivious I was to anything romantic back then, right?"

I nod mutely, not daring to interrupt another of Elsa's in depth revelations.

"So, yeah," she huffs. "He was flirting with me, and looking back on it now, it was all so obvious—almost painfully so—but I just didn't catch on. I'd thank him whenever he said how beautiful I looked, or agreed I was having a great time too, but I didn't give him anything more than that. Even if I had been aware he was flirting, I don't think I would have acted any differently. I just…didn't care about dating. I didn't see him that way; I didn't see anyone that way.

"Then he tried to kiss me," she mumbles bitterly and I'm clenching my fists because I have an idea of where this could go. "I tried to pull away before, but he managed to get a small peck in. I managed to get through the night with just that, but after then, he just assumed we were together. It took me a week to build up the courage to explain to him that I didn't see him that way. Of course, I said the stupid thing about still wanting to be friends, and that really set him off.

"He claimed he could have any girl in the school with the snap of his fingers, but he had devoted the past two years of his life to me despite that. He thought that meant I was obligated to him or something, but the entire time, I was just thinking he was being my friend out of the goodness of his heart, not because he…wanted me. He began to start rumors about how I shot him down, that he only befriended me in the first place because I was socially inept, and gave me the nickname Ice Queen."

"Yeah, he…called you that," I pipe up, not really knowing if I should or not.

Elsa rolls her eyes again and mumbles, "Of course he did."

"But…is that it?" I ask carefully after Elsa doesn't continue talking. "He dislikes you so much because you didn't want to date him?"

"Knowing him, that's probably the biggest reason, but no; there's more."

More?

"I had been boxing the entire time we had been friends. Hans always came to any practice I had, and all my tournaments as well. After we 'broke up,'" she even goes as far as using quotation marks, "he took up the sport as well. I know it was most likely to spite me, but I actually enjoyed it. It gave me a way to show him how bad he had hurt me, and that while he was better at other things than I was, one thing he'd never beat me at was boxing."

"Let me guess," I jump in. "The Olympics?"

Elsa smiles wanly with a nod. "Yeah. The first year I made the team, I only made it by a hair. The runner up? Hans. The next time we both tried for it, he didn't even come close while I was now the front runner."

"Serves him right," I mumble.

Elsa grins. "I suppose it does. It doesn't help that in every city tourney we competed in together, we were never allowed to fight each other, so he can't claim he ever beat me. Of course, I can't say I beat him either, but I definitely placed higher than him more often than not."

"So you are the better boxer, in a way," I tell her with my own grin. "Hans has nothing on you."

"Still," Elsa sighs again as her smile falls. "That obviously means nothing to him if he still hates me after all this time. He didn't say anything about my arm, did he? Or my…parents?"

"He never brought it up," I tell her earnestly. "At least he had the sense to leave that stone unturned."

Elsa shrugs. "I'm sure that's not the last we'll see of him."

"Yeah," I chuckle, now refusing to look her way, "about that… He, uh…kinda challenged me to a fight."

"What?!" she yelps. "What did you say?"

"Nothing!" I reply honestly, waving my hands frantically to ward off the thoughts I'm sure are swarming her mind now. "He left before I could say anything about it!"

"Well, if he brings it up again, please don't do it, Anna," she pleads. "We all know you're a good boxer, but this is Hans. I'm sure he has some trick up his sleeve and knowing that he knows your association with me, he'll play dirty. I don't want to see you get hurt by him too."

"I can handle anything he throws at me, believe me," I tell her with conviction. Though, upon seeing her about to protest, I add quickly, "But I won't I promise."

Taking my hand, she squeezes it tightly. "Thank you."

Of course, depending on Hans's continued interference in our lives, that promise may be subject to change. If there's one thing in life I can't stand, it's people like him who get off on the manipulation and suffering of others.

XxXxX

"I'm very pleased you decided to return, Elsa."

Two days after the run-in with Hans, I had managed to convince Elsa to give the trial another shot. It wasn't that easy of a task, what with the heartfelt, teary cuddle session we had the night before, but she's here now, and once again I couldn't be more proud of her. Despite her repeated whimpers last night of "I can't do this" and "I'm too cowardly," she's here now and that's all that matters to me. Elsa is strong, she can do this; just getting her to believe it is the difficult part.

"I…I wanted to, really," she begins to explain. "I just…"

"Needed some time away," I finish for her, smiling kindly and taking her hand in mine.

Dr Porter looks between us and smiles himself. "Well, that's completely understandable. All of us here realize what a toll this can take on a person and their loved ones. Why, we've had several participants step away for months before continuing and there's nothing wrong with that."

"See, Elsa?" I chirp cheerfully, giving her hand a squeeze. "There's no need to fret!"

"So, Elsa," Dr Porter begins, "would you like to pick up where we left off last time? The psychological aspect of the study?"

Elsa timidly nods, although already she's doing a better job keeping eye contact this time than before. Smiling widening, Dr Porter nods.

"Wonderful!" he exclaims. "Well, our group meets twice a week in a room down the hall—we have the entire wing here dedicated to this study—on Tuesdays and Fridays. You are expected to attend at least one a week. The group consists of your fellow trial members, all of which are here for different needs and come from different backgrounds. The group is headed by my granddaughter, Jane, a doctorate student at Columbia."

"So it's really…just a bunch of talking about our…fears?" Elsa pipes up.

"Exactly," Dr Porter nods again. "Jane may pose questions every now and then to get a discussion started, or if she wants you all to focus on a particular aspect for the day, but most of the time you all have the floor to say what you wish. Like any therapy group, each of you sign a confidentiality form stating that whatever is said in the group stays within the group. Jane and myself are the only ones in the study aside from you all who know what is said, and only because we have to approve you all before continuing the trial."

I glance to Elsa to see if she's grasping any of this, and am pleased to see her listening intently to Dr Porter, nodding every so often and truly taking everything into consideration rather than casting it aside out of fear.

"Okay," she mumbles after a while.

I squeeze her hand again. She looks over and gives me a small smile.

"In that case," Dr Porter looks to Elsa expectantly, yet warmly, "if you'd like, I spoke to Jane earlier about you sitting in on the group today. You don't have to participate this time, but this will let you get a feel, perhaps, as to what it will be like next time. Plus, you'll be able to be introduced to your fellow trial mates."

Elsa only nods in a numb manner before standing to make after Dr Porter. Before the man is halfway out the room, however, she speaks up.

"Can… Can Anna come with me?" And I can hear the near-pleading tone her voice takes on here. "Please?"

Dr Porter's smile falters a bit, but he quickly retains it as he nods.

"I suppose this one time couldn't hurt, to make you feel more comfortable, but when you begin to actually be a part of the sessions, I'm afraid Anna will have to wait behind."

Elsa looks ready to protest at that, and I'm almost certain she's going to bring up that Milo let me tag along so why can't I here, but I'm stepping front of her and smiling tenderly before she gets the chance.

"It's okay, Elsa," I reassure her. "You'll be fine without me. And remember, we're doing this at your pace, so if you're not ready by Friday, or even next Tuesday, we'll wait until you are, okay?"

"Young Anna is right," Dr Porter backs me up. "I in no way expect you back here Friday. Even when you do come to your first session, none of us expect you to jump right in to conversation. Therapy is a daunting thing, Elsa, and all of us here understand that. Please, there's nothing to fear."

With another nod and a shaky okay, Elsa and I follow Dr Porter down the hall, hands still locked tightly together.

When Dr Porter pushes open the door, we're met with just about what you would expect any group therapy scene to look like. There's a cluster of chairs forming a circle in the middle of the room, and a small table with some refreshments sits off to the side. The people in the chairs range from a young girl to an older gentleman about Dr Porter's age, and all sporting different kinds of losses and obviously in different stages of the trial. Some are missing just an arm like Elsa, others are missing a leg, and even some others are missing both limbs completely. Some have no prosthetic at all, while others seem to have already been fitted with their robotic substitute.

"Janey?"

As Dr Porter speaks up, the group ceases conversation and looks over at us, a young brunette girl beaming at us as she makes to stand. I feel Elsa shift almost imperceptibly closer to me.

"Oh, this must be Elsa!" the brunette, Jane, apparently, exclaims as she comes to a stop before us. "And you must be Anna!"

Elsa and I nod in turn.

"Elsa is here to sit in on the rest of your session, dear, and Anna's accompanying her this once," Dr Porter tells her, all the while Jane continues to smile warmly at Elsa, almost like coaxing a five year-old on their first day of Kindergarten to come out from behind their parent's legs—which isn't all that far from the truth here, honestly.

"That's just marvelous, Elsa," Jane says. "I was just telling everyone earlier that we may have a newcomer starting soon."

Elsa shoots another timid smile, but doesn't make to move out from behind me any. Jane, bless her soul, doesn't point any of this out and simply invites us both closer to the group. Dr Porter, meanwhile, nabbing a couple more chairs from a wall.

"Now, let's all make room for Elsa and Anna," Jane tells the group. "Elsa will be joining us in our talks here in her own time, so let's make sure she feels extra welcomed. Anna too."

Several people look at us with kind smiles, while others wave or nod. The young girl meanwhile smiles a toothy grin and immediately scoots her chair over.

"Miss Elsa can sit by me!" she shouts.

"That's very sweet of you, Reilly, thank you," Jane tells her.

I incline my head towards the little girl and Elsa slowly walks to sit down next to her. I don't fail to see Elsa glance at the girl's lack of both her legs, and her hand only tightens around mine when she notices.

"T-Thank you, Reilly," Elsa manages to squeak.

Reilly simply beams again, squirming in her chair.

"Now, Kovu, you were telling us all about your latest success in the lab?" Jane prods, and just like that, Elsa and I are sucked into the world of therapy.