…Well, at least it didn't take another month! *sweats nervously because it was cutting it close*

Chapter Thirty: Maintain Appearance

"What do you mean you don't want to go?"

My head falls against the closed bathroom door, Elsa once again taking refuge in the small room on the other side.

"I can't do this anymore, Anna," her voice carries back to me, filled with frustration, pain, and a tiny pinch of anger. "I hate these sessions. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to hear everyone's painful stories and then have to constantly relive my own? Just to get some kind of 'insight' from it in hopes I come to terms with what's going on? Is it wrong for me to become spiteful and think this is all some intricate bullshit?"

"Elsa, you're just saying that because you're frustrated and it's in the heat of the moment," I try to mediate. "What about those days you've come back feeling so unburdened and free? You've gotten so much off your chest!"

She's silent for a moment before a grumbled, "I still don't want to go," has me chuckling.

"Just think of it this way," I force as much encouragement into my words as I speak, "this is your final session before the physical work happens. You get to start actually working towards your arm now, Els."

"But I'll still have these sessions…"

"Everyone does and will," I say. "I'm sure you're not the only one who doesn't chomp at the bit for these."

There's a heavy sigh before I hear a shuffling, and Elsa has the door open a second later.

"Fine," she huffs. A small grin flickering, she adds, "But you owe me."

I roll my eyes. "I'll take you to Chuck E Cheese after," I joke.

When she just shoves me into the recently vacated bathroom and attempts to close the door, I break into laughter and the two of us dissolve into a tickle fight.

Jane doesn't seem to mind when we show up fifteen minutes late.

It had been a little over two weeks since Elsa's first session and it went without saying that they had been a constant roller coaster of emotion for Elsa. One day she'd come out with a big grin on her face, telling me how happy she felt to finally be confronting her demons in front of people who had honestly been through the same as her, and then other times she'd come out closed off like the first time. I'd have to poke and prod at her to get her to open up, but I firmly believe those times were when she truly was getting the most from it. Nobody said therapy's easy. I mean, I'm certainly not one to talk from experience, having never been to any aside from that undercover trip to Milo's, but I think it's basically a given. It's one thing to face your demons on your own, and another to share them with someone you've formed an intense, special bond with; yet, it's completely different and terrifying to open up to a group of strangers. Yet, if you finally get past the point of realizing that these people are here to help, you free your demons, you fight the evil, and you end up feeling completely liberated.

Elsa's finally realized that, I believe, and she's accepted the fact that while these sessions may be hard on her, they're a necessity—and not strictly because they're a part of the trial. That doesn't mean she's anxiously awaiting to go to each and every one, as this morning easily proved, but it is a lot easier getting her to walk into the hospital than it had ever been before.

Although, I suppose another reason Elsa didn't want to go today was because she was hoping not going would keep this day from progressing to ten o' clock tonight.

When I'll be meeting Hans to have our "no holds-barred" fight-despite the fact that I will make sure there are some kind of rules.

The day that Elsa and I went ice-skating at Rockefeller, we had an inconvenient run-in with the Sideburned Crusader on our way home. Surprisingly, however, Hans made no smart remarks to Elsa, and instead focused his attention on me. Oh, sure, he said some less-than-pleasant things about Elsa right in front of her, but it was honestly as if he had no idea she was right beside me the entire time, with the way he was talking about her. Of course, I got on the offensive and tried to stand up for her, and then Hans reissued his challenge of a fight between the two of us.

Much to Elsa's detest—who had been doing her damnedest to pull me away the entire time—I agreed, and we had decided tonight would be the night it would go down. There wasn't really anything riding on the fight; I wouldn't get anything from winning, aside from wiping the floor with Hans' infuriating smug grin. Anyone who tried to tell me what Elsa and I had was anything but real, and that I was just a naïve girl in over my head was going to get their ass kicked.

After an hour's worth of deliberation upon getting home after that encounter, Elsa finally caved and gave me the go ahead to fight. She knew I didn't need her permission, and that I would most likely have gone no matter what she had said, but it was nice to know she actually had my back in this. I know she wants to fight her own battles, and Hans may be her biggest one, but my final rebuttal that night had been that I was her girlfriend, I was protective, and I was not about to let some prick talk bad about my girl. That claim was rewarded with a heated kiss, and an even more intense make out session that lasted well into the night once in the confines of the bedroom.

So, yeah. In less than eight hours, I will be back in the ring, only this time there will be no large crowd—as far as I knew—no prize money, and no bracket. Just me, Hans, and our fists.

And I'm pumped beyond belief. There's no doubt in my mind that I'll emerge victorious.

Because when anything involves Elsa, I won't quit.

"…But then Mr Weselton added too much vinegar and the whole thing exploded!" the exuberant voice of Reilly alerts me to the fact that Elsa's session is over. "It really was like a volcano! You should've seen his face; he was so embarrassed!"

Elsa's wheeling Reilly out like she had been doing the past weeks while Reilly recounts one of many school stories. Seriously, why weren't my elementary years this entertaining? The two part with a hug before Reilly's off with her parents and Elsa's making her way over to me. The smile on her face and light in her eyes lets me know today was a good day.

"So?" I ask like always, greeting her with a kiss on the lips. "How'd it go?"

"Well," she answers, her smile lingering.

"The darkness retreating?"

She kisses my cheek as she responds with, "Immensely."

I match her smile, take her hand, and lead her down the hallway to the main lobby to speak with Terk. We had scheduled an appointment with Dr Callaghan in order to start the physical process of the trial now that Elsa had completed the required initial therapy.

"You excited to actually get this started with?" I inquire.

"I am, actually," Elsa nods. "No fear either. I mean, sure, I'm nervous, but I'm also ready."

I squeeze her hand and grin, a glimmer in my eyes. "Full speed ahead?"

She lets out a breath before grinning back. "Full speed ahead."

We're back in an exam room in no time, Dr Callaghan having joined us as soon as Terk led us back. Tadashi and Hiro linger in the doorway, Tadashi looking proud of Elsa while Hiro simply bounces up and down, holding a strange contraption I can't really observe giving his non-stop movement.

"Well, Elsa," Callaghan begins. "You have now successfully completed the first leg of this trial. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better than when I started," Elsa answers, even managing a joking undertone.

Callaghan chuckles. "That much is obvious. You're radiating confidence now, do you know that?"

Elsa blushes softly at the praise, but remains silent. I nudge her playfully with a wink.

"Now, I'm sure you've had enough self-exploration for the day, so why don't we talk about what's to be expected from now on?" He taps away on the tablet before him as he says this.

Elsa and I share a quick glance before we nod in unison.

"As of today, you will only have to attend therapy once a week," he explains. "Of course, you're welcome to come more often should you feel you have questions, or want to get something off your chest, but once is all we ask now. However, when you actually do get the prosthetic, you will be coming to physical therapy three or four times a week, depending on your initial test upon receiving it, and how well your functioning progresses."

"You said before, that I might have trouble since my nerves could be so damaged and because it's been so long?" Elsa asks once Callaghan pauses. "When will I know the extent of that damage?"

"As soon as the prosthetic is ready," Tadashi speaks up, stepping further into the room. "Once we fit you with the prosthetic that is to be yours, we'll be able to tell."

Elsa just nods and looks at her right arm, her eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"These next few weeks will consist of a bit of waiting," Callaghan continues. "Today we will do a scan of your left arm, to determine the parameters and measurements needed to make the prosthetic fit you. Then, the scans are off to the lab where Hiro will be busy actually creating it."

Hiro steps up then, and holds out some metal contraption. "I use this to scan your good arm," he elucidates. "It's kind of like an x-ray. Without this, the prosthetic would end up being too heavy or too light and would take even longer to get right. This shortens the period by basically letting me create a mirror image of your left arm to make the right."

"Of course, no person's arms are identical, even though they may appear to be," Callaghan goes on. "Still, since your arms will differentiate between bone, muscle and skin, and robotics, metallic alloys and carbon fiber, we figured everything else may as well be completely identical."

"Makes enough sense to me," I pipe up with a shrug and getting a laugh from Elsa.

Callaghan looks to Elsa. "So, ready to begin?"

"I… I just have one question," Elsa speaks up, a bit of a nervous undertone we all pick up on.

"Yes?" Callaghan prods.

Elsa sighs and looks at her lap briefly before looking back up and sparing Callaghan, Tadashi and Hiro each a glance.

"I'm not…taking priority over anyone else in the study just because I'm…me, right?" she asks, and I can see the apprehension on her face. "I mean, I'm a…celebrity," she says this with a bitter bite, "but I hate being treated like one. Kovu's fought for his country, a-and Reilly's just a kid; in my eyes that trumps anything else, so…I-I just don't want all the focus to be on me if it's taking away from the others."

The three men in the room all share a look before their attention is back on Elsa, sympathetic smiles on all their faces.

"Elsa," Callaghan says softly, "I assure you that is not the case. You know yourself that Kovu is already in physical therapy, and as for Reilly and the others, well… Everyone moves at their own pace. But please, never for one minute think you're getting any kind of special treatment. You're moving on because you deserve it; nothing more, nothing less."

Heaving another great breath, Elsa nods resolutely with a whispered, "okay," before Hiro approaches her.

"I'll put this on your left arm, okay?" he says. "You won't feel anything, but it will beep and make some noise."

Elsa nods again and extends her arm. Hiro carefully encloses it in the machine before bringing up his own tablet. Elsa glances at me dubiously, to which I can only squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. In moments, the machine is lighting up and beeping and whirring.

"This will just take about thirty seconds," Hiro states.

"I know he said it won't, but does it feel like anything?" I can't help asking Elsa.

"Not really," she says. "I mean, aside from the weight of the thing on me, I can't feel anything."

"Just like an x-ray, huh?" Hiro exclaims proudly. I snort when I see Tadashi roll his eyes from behind his brother.

Seconds later, Elsa's arm is freed, and Hiro is looking over what I'm guessing are the results of the scan.

"All looks good!" he says. "Give me a week, and I'll have the first model ready!"

Callaghan dismisses the siblings then, and Tadashi and Hiro part with friendly goodbyes. Callaghan turns back to Elsa.

"So, that's all for today," he tells us. "Easy, huh?"

Elsa and I nod, even though we're well aware the hardest part has yet to come. Still, neither of us brings it up as we're discharged for the day, and we're on the subway back to Elsa's before either of us speaks.

"So," Elsa expels with a sigh, "your fight."

"My fight," I echo.

"You ready?"

"Hell yeah," I tell her, a devilish gleam in my eyes. "Gotta fight for my girl, right?"

Nuzzling up under my cheek, she croons, "My hero."

I just chuckle and make a show of flexing my muscles, which has us descending into our second fitful of giggles of the day. Finally quieting, Elsa plants a soft kiss against my neck.

"Just be careful," she whispers. "I know I can't stop you from going, but…you know Hans isn't going to fight by the rules. I'm not too keen with the idea of you getting hurt from defending me."

"I'll do my best," I promise her seriously before cracking a grin. "The asshole won't know what hit him."

Elsa just chuckles and we spend the rest of the ride nestled in each other's arms.

XxXxX

9:50pm. I emerge from the subway station a block away from the Dakota. My hands are buried in my hoodie pocket, already bandaged up in preparation for the fight, and I shuffle quickly towards the massive building. Turning down 72nd, I see an imposing looking figure lurking in front of the building, and figure it's one of Hans' goons. Sure enough, when I come to a stop in front of him, he quickly gives me the once-over before inclining his head over his shoulder.

I'm led down a dark alleyway, keeping my hands balled into fists the entire time, should this turn into some kind of trap where I'm to be ambushed.

That doesn't happen however, and instead the alley indeed leads to an empty lot, just like Hans had said. There in the center, surrounded by three more guys, is King Sideburns himself. Cocky bastard.

"Anna!" he exclaims jovially. "So glad you could make it!"

"Cut the crap, Hans," I spit, not in the mood for games, just to kick ass and leave. "I'm just here to pummel you."

"Confident, aren't we?" he says in that infuriating smug tone. "Hope your words hold up in the heat of things."

"Oh, they will, believe me."

Hans just looks to all of his "boys" with a face that sends them all into a raucous guffaw. I merely roll my eyes and take the time to observe my surroundings. The lot is lit by only one old street lamp, the only other light provided coming from the windows of the Dakota and the moon in the sky. I look up to the windows and feel a bit better about the situation. Should things take a turn for the worse, someone is sure to hear me should I need them to.

"Anyway," Hans finally speaks up after he and his group calm down. "I believe we've kept our guest waiting."

"Indeed you have."

He smirks. "Shall we set some rules?"

"No hits below the belt," I start. "Three rounds; once you're down for ten seconds, you lose the round. Simple enough?"

A hardened glint lights up his eyes as he nods and cracks his knuckles.

"So then," he drawls, "are you ready to rumble?"

I can only roll my eyes.