also uses australian sign language (auslan) and some other australianisms. i wanna use more of them in my writing :)

so uh content warnings for past sexual assault (nothing graphic at all dw!). characters have just met at a support group for sexual assault survivors so just so you know what you’re walking into.

Anonymous ask on tumblr: "I see your prompt and raise you a challenge! (obv you don't gotta do this if you don't want to) Elsa, who was born deaf, meets Anna, who just became deaf from an accident (could be from a disease, other medical-related, or good ol' fashion car accidents). friendship and tentative budding romance~"

Chapter Text

A hot breeze pushes the last few stragglers into the building. A small fan putters, helpless against the heat, and the air is thick and humid. There's some cool water in a couple of jugs, plus some snacks along a table. Someone's brought Tim Tams, and Elsa takes one with a little grin.

Elsa's been coming here a few years now. Kristoff, her brother, chats to a few of the other regulars. He needs to be here as much as she does. This little group, one for survivors (not victims; never victims) is small and friendly. There are far more familiar faces than not, and though the space is predominantly owned by women, there are still a few men. Elsa smiles at one, Herc, and he smiles back. She has a lot of respect for him. It's not easy admitting to have been sexually assaulted as a woman, let alone as a man. The people she's met here are more family than her own – sans her brother, of course.

In fact, there's only two new faces. They're girls, probably a few years younger than Elsa herself. They sit together, and while one – a brunette, with short cropped hair – is looking around the space with mild interest, the other, a freckled little thing with red hair, keeps her gaze averted.

A tendril of something curls in Elsa's gut, and if she had to guess, she'd say that only one of those people actually needs to be here; the other is simply a... more familiar support.

Eventually, everyong makes their way to the circle and takes a seat. There are a few smiles and head nods, but not much else until someone leans forward. It's Milo – he's been going here even longer than Elsa has, and is sort of the de facto leader.

He begins speaking, though Elsa's eyes are trained on Kristoff. His hands move, interpreting Milo's words for her. He introduces himself, thanks everyone for coming, despite the weather. Everyone says hi, and Elsa waves at him. Even though it's been done a thousand times before, everyone goes around in the circle, introducing themselves. It's mostly for the new people, but it's a way to break the ice. To open up the floor and let people share something, even if it isn't the reason they're all there tonight.

When it's Elsa's turn, she stands up, just like everyone else. Gives a small smile and a wave before her hands move in front of her. They spell out her name, and then after, sign it. She knows Kristoff is translating for her.

But something strikes her as she finishes her name and moves on to the rest of the mantra; the girl, the new one with the red hair – not the brunette – is looking at her. Her friend nudges her once, with a smile, and she doesn't even seem to hear Kristoff speak. Her eyes are trained on Elsa's hands.

As soon as Elsa finishes her introduction and sits back down, the girl looks away again. She doesn't even look up until her friend – Punz, who's only here to support her – is nudging her. She shakes her head, and her friend answers for her.

She wonders why.

But then Milo takes control again, opening up the floor to people who might actually want to talk. Elsa sits back in her chair and just observes.

Maybe she'll share something tonight. It seems like a good night for it.

Anna doesn't want to be here. She hates it; hates that this sort of thing happened. Of course, there's a good reason to be here. She'd just... prefer to deal with this in private.

It's just that therapy is expensive and group support meetings are cheap. She'd only come because Punz had said she'd come with.

It's been almost three months, she'd said. It's time.

It doesn't feel like it.

Anna doesn't want to hear – hah! – about everyone else's trauma. She doesn't want to share her own. In the intervening months, she hasn't got the words, the language, to talk about it.

But then someone stands up and introduces themselves, and Anna understands. The girl uses her left hand like a pen, her right like the paper, and spells out her name:

Tapping her right pointer finger – E.

Laying her left index across the palm – L.

Interlocking her pinkies – S.

Pointing to her thumb – A.

Elsa.

She says something else, and Anna can't stop staring. She doesn't understand, but she doesn't have to. Punz nudges her, almost gives the game away, but Anna... doesn't really mind so much.

They're almost directly opposite each other, so Anna has some time to gather her courage. She can do this. She can do this. She's been working, practising, so that she can communicate.

But by the time everyone's gaze is on her, she falters. She can't do this. Punz introduces her, and it feels so pathetic.

The girl, Elsa, gives her a little smile, and Anna can feel some of the tension in her relax. The boy next to her signs her name: tapping his thumb, then two fingers across his palm – twice for the double-letter – before tapping his thumb again. He's a lot better than she's ever going to be; it's only because she knows what it looks like that she can follow his movements.

After that, she resumes looking at the floor. Only Punz knows that she can't follow the conversation, but she doesn't try and get Anna to participate. It's a big enough step, coming here.

That being said, Punz does interrupt her silent stand-off with the scuffed floorboards to nudge her. Anna ignores her, until her friend does it again. She lifts her head to glare at Punz, but she's immediately distracted.

The boy isn't signing, because the girl is.

Elsa isn't standing, but she's leaned forward in her chair. She's much more expressive in her face and her body language. She even mouths the words, pausing every so often to let the boy translate for her. Anna understands enough. She knows the sign for 'my' and 'father'. The distaste on Elsa's face – the curling of her bottom lip, the scrunching of her nose. Even the exaggerated motions of 'tell' and 'love' explain more for Anna than spoken words ever will.

A lot of it, she doesn't understand. She knows enough.

There's a small break once Elsa sits back, finishing her story for now. It's too hot, and everyone wants to get a drink or go to the bathroom. Punz pulls out a pen and a piece of paper.

how are you feeling? she scribbles out. Her handwriting has always been neat. Anna's used to be. It's part and parcel, the doctors said. Part of the trauma. Her hand still shakes sometimes, too.

WHAT HAPPEN WITH ELSA? WHO IS BOY?

Punz turns around to look. Elsa's standing by the table, eating a half-melted Tim Tam. The boy is saying something to her, hands moving rapidly as she grins. Anna tries not to look at them too long. She doesn't want them to realise.

Taking the pen, Punz writes out her answer. Her brother. I think his name is Christopher? You should say hi.

When Anna's finished reading it, she sends Punz a doleful look. Punz responds with a smile, taking her friend's hand and standing up. She tugs it, very lightly, and Anna hesitates a few more seconds before she gives in.

She trusts Punz. Always has and always will. That doesn't mean it's always easy, though, and she though she trusts Punz, there are a lot of people here tonight and she knows none of them. How they could expect her to share her trauma with strangers is...

...Not as stupid an idea as it seems. If she were more confident, perhaps, with her communication, she might actually get some use out of it.

So Punz leads her towards the sibling duo and Anna feels the way her grip tightens against Punz's hand. She hasn't really met any new people since the incident – hasn't wanted to. Anna keeps her eyes averted as Punz, presumably, begins the introductions. In her periphery, she can see the boy begin signing again, though she hasn't the courage to look at him properly. Punz shifts, and Anna's grip tightens. She blinks rapidly, gaze planted on the floor because the longer she's here, the less she wants to be. For no reason – no logical reason – tears begin building behind her eyes and she wants to be alone.

Another thing considered "normal", according to the therapist.

It's not that she's thinking anything terrible. She isn't descending a spiral of negative thoughts, but it still comes as a surprise when she feels a tap on her shoulder. She looks up—

—and into the brightest eyes she's ever seen.

Elsa is standing right there, though there's still enough space between them. Anna... doesn't really like people getting too close now, and everyone in this room probably feels similarly.

But with the way Elsa is smiling, soft and warm, Anna can kind of feel her guard relaxing, just a little. When Elsa points at her, then gives a two-finger salute before spelling out Anna's name, brows furrowed in question, it isn't so hard to give a little nod. She understands that, at least.

Then Elsa is leaning back, patting her chest before pointing at Anna and giving that same little salute.

She likes Anna's name.

And Anna wants to return the compliment because Elsa's name is pretty, too, but she doesn't want to let go of Punz's hand, and she doesn't want to fuck up in front of this woman and her brother.

But something in the way Elsa is smiling at her bolsters her confidence. Enough to let go and to bring her hands up slowly.

Anna points to herself before splaying her hands out in front of her. They're facing each other, like she's holding an imaginary box, and she starts moving them in circles as though doing a tiny imitation of a locomotive. Then, she sticks out her pinky so it points to the sky.

Elsa smiles.

Her own speech is much faster, Anna's seen it, but Elsa seems to be slowing down so that Anna can understand. It doesn't seem condescending. She knows she's supposed to be looking at Elsa's face, it's one of the rules of polite conversation, but if she does she knows she'll lose whatever tenuous grip she has on Elsa's words.

It seems as though she's trying to be encouraging. Anna can't read lips, but the way Elsa mouths the words helps.

She was born Deaf, Anna thinks. That's what she seems to be saying.

Anna wasn't born deaf, and it shows.

She bites her lip and turns to Punz, who's been watching the small conversation with an uncomprehending gaze. Anna might not be very good yet, but Punz has only just started learning. Once Anna built up the courage to tell her that it was permanent, the damage.

She points to Punz, then to her lips, before finally her fingers land on the siblings. She hopes the meaning is clear.

Anna's not quite ready for everyone to know what happened, but... maybe just two people. After all, isn't that what the support meeting is for?

Elsa isn't expecting to be approached. She isn't expecting to be drawn into a conversation in her own native language – not one that isn't with her brother, at any rate.

She's not expecting her earlier guess to be accurate: that it's only the redhead, Anna, who really needs to be here. And while part of her hadn't entertained the idea that Anna would use Auslan, it's also making her perhaps a little more friendly than usual.

Kristoff catches her eye, and she looks away.

It's not like she has to defend herself. Anna is a pretty name! The girl doesn't have a sign name, though, and her language skills are nowhere near fluent. So perhaps she's been language-deprived?

That idea fades, as does Elsa's good cheer, when her friend tells the story. It's a truncated version, naturally – no need to get into too much detail – but it's enough. Anna went through trauma. She survived. But her scars aren't just mental or emotional. They're not going to fade over time, like Kristoff's did. She'll always be reminded of what she went through because she lost more than just her agency: she lost her hearing.

Elsa was born deaf. She doesn't know what it's like to suddenly be without, but she supposes it would be like cutting off a limb. If she suddenly lost her sight, there would be no way to communicate with the world around her. She'd have to make concessions where she never did before.

She may even lose friends over it – though she'd hope that she chose ones deserving of her.

While Punz relays the story, Anna kind of just folds up. Her hand finds her friend's again and she resumes looking at the floor, and Elsa's heart just breaks at the sight. She wants to see what Anna looks like happy, because everyone who comes to these meetings deserves some kind of happiness, but Anna even more so. She deserves something to make up for everything she's lost.

Elsa's not stupid enough to think that thing might be her. She isn't conceited enough. But, she does recognise the power of friendships and support and positive relationships during this time, and she wants to be one of those people in Anna's life.

So once Punz finishes the story, and Kristoff's hands fall still, Elsa makes a move. It's one tiny step forward, but this time she doesn't have to tap Anna's shoulder because her head jerks up before she can.

Elsa smiles at her, gaze focused solely on the redhead as her hands begin to move.

Pointing to Anna. You.

Resting a hand on her chest before sweeping away, like brushing crumbs. Want.

Bringing her hands together, cupping them with the backs of her fingers pointed outward. With.

Pointing at herself. Me.

Flicking her index finger away. Go.

Forming a C, thumb resting at the corner of her lips before tilting her hand. Drink.

Stacking her fists on top of each other, moving them in a circle. Coffee.

Forms a thumbs-up, brushing them down her chest. Practise.

Splays her hands between her head and chest, shaking them. Auslan.

Do you want to get a coffee with me? Practise Auslan?

Anna just looks at her for a moment, eyes wide. It's not a date, Elsa thinks – this is the wrong place to ask that, wrong time. But... she would like to talk to Anna. Help her acclimatise.

Be her friend.

And the way Anna finally, for the first time that night, gives a little smile... maybe she'd like that, too.