48 | A SONG OF PAIN

WINTERFELL was aware of very few things, but there were some she was sure of. She knew she was unconscious, but time seemed less than a concept in her unconscious state. She was aware of the arguing around her — the fairy Godmother, the magical Headmistress was present in nearly every argument.

Arguing with her friends about the level of exhaustion Winterfell suffered.

She remembered Harry's voice, Ben's voice, Mal's voice, Jonah's voice — all her friend's voices really.

But Harry's voice stuck with her.

"It's time to wake up now, princess..." he whispered and the feel of his lips leaving a chaste kiss on her forehead was but a ghost.

Winter could not be sure how long she was out, but suddenly she was gasping and sitting upright. Everything was blurry at first, and her throat was dry.

She shook her head and blinked rapidly, willing her sense to come back. A drop of cold hit her on the shoulder, then her arm, then the top of her head. The blurriness left her vision and Winterfell finally realized what these cold drops were.

Well shit ... it was snowing ... inside the hospital wing room.

Winterfell's gaze was starry and full of curiosity as she took in the snowy weather. The snow INSIDE the room. The room was not too big, around the same size as her dorm, and it was rather bland. A simple sitting chair in the corner and a few other items of furniture and medical equipment were sporadically placed about the room.

"Oh good!"

Winter jumped at the sudden tone, her head snapping to the door that slammed open.

"You're awake—OH!"

The nurse that walked in, a friendly-faced middle-aged woman dressed in bright colors froze as she recognized the snowy weather. She slowly closed the door behind her, looking up at the snow falling out of nowhere.

Her gaze slowly moved to the walls where she noticed beautifully intricate artwork made of frost. Winter was still too out of it to even hope to suck it back in: she had no choice but to simply let it be.

"M'sorry," she said quietly, her voice incredibly hoarse and near gone.

The nurse flicked her gaze back to Winter.

"Why?" She questioned, not in a sharp tone but simply curious.

Winter was quiet, shrugging mutely in response.

The nurse stared at her for a few long moments, Winter doing everything in her power to avoid the woman's gaze. She was already embarrassed enough, and add that onto the terror and anxiety beginning to whirl around her mind.

She remembered it all: when she was stuck in that ... that awful place. When she felt cold for the first time in ever, where no one could hear her screams... the loneliness. And she remembers watching that demon defile her body: she shook as she remembered the flames. Beleth killed someone... with her hands.

Winter now adorned the hands of a killer and that thought was truly horrifying.

She did not even know how to react. Of course she wanted to scream and cry and freakout, but rather she did nothing. She simply sat there, staring at her hands. Three days ago she was scared of her hands, she was scared of losing control, now she only saw those hands covered in blood.

"Do you know why you are in here, sweetie?" She finally met the nurses's gaze, clenching her hands.

The nurse did not wait for her to give a response. "Your friends brought you here: they said your body finally collapsed from exhaustion," the nurse took a seat toward the foot of the bed, "you have been pushing yourself far too hard. Skipping meals to study? I understand that you have one of the highest grade point averages right now — and you work incredibly hard to achieve that. But that work is becoming too much, you're destroying yourself in the process."

It was obvious her friends had not told the truth as to what happened. And for that Winter was grateful, she was not sure that she could handle the looks that people would throw her if they knew. They would know her as the pathetic child who was possessed.

They would know her as the unfortunate child who first was kidnapped by an evil warlock and next as the teenager who was possessed and did unspeakable acts. The girl who could not catch a break.

"Not only that but sweetie..." the nurse paused as though trying to figure out how to word this, "you cannot keep penting up your abilities — they are apart of you..."

"I'm not..." Winter closed her eyes with a sigh, attempting to lie and pretend as though it was fine, as though her powers were fine, as though she was fine. "I'm not..." she could not even get the words out.

"Child ... your hair was brown when your friends brought you in — it's white now. How far have you gone to ignore your own powers?" The nurse said softly, and Winter was at a loss for words.

Gulping she gripped a piece of hair in her fingers and looked at it. Sure enough, the familiar snow white strands were in her grasp. Had her friends seen it?

As though reading her mind the nurse spoke, "no one has seen it — you've been out for three days but I have not allowed anyone to visit you. Even as you were unconscious I believe you needed a break and that rest entirely to yourself."

It was silent before Winter choked her words out, "thank you..." she was on the verge of falling apart.

Winter doesn't know what to do. There was too much going on: her thoughts were so ... so LOUD. It hurt. God, it hurt. The snow began falling slightly harder, but Winter remained blank to the outside.

The nurse took pity on her.

"Your friends asked me to call them as soon as you wake up — especially your boyfriend..." Winter did not even blink at that, she knew the nurse was referring to Harry but she cared not nor did she have the energy to correct her.

To be honest: her and Harry's weird semi-romatic relationship was the last thing on her mind. And that was saying something considering up until three days ago it had been the first. She played with the sheet while staring off into space, her mind taking everything in her life into consideration.

No words could describe her emotions at the moment: she felt like an entirely new person. But out of everything her mind kept flashing to that void, the hell that she was stuck in for three days.

No one had heard her screams.

And like that, her mind flashed and a memory triggered: a memory that she wished to forget. Memories she had made a conscious effort to ditch long ago, and like always — they found a way to claw right back up.

"No one will hear you scream..." it was his voice.

The deliciously smooth but malevolent voice, his piercing eyes that reminded her of the fires of hell staring straight into her soul. And Wenlock was right, no one heard her scream for two weeks.

"Do you want me to call your friends now? Or perhaps just your boyfriend...?"

Winter blinked back into reality slowly shaking her head "no" to the nurse. No, she needed to be alone a while more, she needed to think by herself.

A large part of her longed to not be alone though, she longed to find comfort in Harry Hook... in her friends. The thought of being alone was as terrifying as it was relieving. She wanted to run straight into his arms sobbing, to allow him to take all her pain.

But she had to think — Winterfell had to get her mind straight.

"No, I would like to be alone," she spoke, "am I cleared to go back to my dorm?"

Winterfell questioned this while eyeing the clock hanging over the door. It was the middle of the day, classes were barely halfway through. She had time before she had to face her friends, before everything that had happened would be left out in the open.

The nurse stared at her worriedly but nodded. "Yes, but you need to start eating more and taking mental health breaks from your schoolwork... I've already let the Fairy Godmother know, she wants to meet with you but she more than agrees. She has already cleared you from classes the rest of this week, and any assignments given out or meant to be turned in will receive an A for."

At first Winter felt like a failure, as though she cheated the system. But she stopped herself and allowed the relief to take flight — it already felt like a heavy burden was lifted off her form.

"Thank you," Winterfell sighed before suddenly leaping from the bed and walking to the dresser where some of her clothes were folded on top.

"Wait, let's take it slow—" the nurse tried only for Winterfell to completely ignore her and rip off the hospital gown.

The nurse swallowed turning around immediately when she realize this child apparently had no shame. Winter figured it didn't matter anymore, she just wanted out of this room as fast as possible. This was out of character for her, but she gave zero shits.

Her mind briefly flashed to when Harry asked if she wanted to see him in his birthday suit.

The shirt was thrown on along with the pair of jeans left, the clothes obviously were not hers. A pair of some of Evie's old ones if she had to guess — they were the closest in size after all — but that didn't matter. She eyed the shoes left for her sitting idly on the dresser along with a soft pair of her gloves.

Winterfell glared at both items, turning around and walking briskly out of the hospital room. Without any shoes. Without any gloves.

The hospital wing was dead at the moment and Winterfell was glad that she was currently the only patient. The nurse scrambled after her.

"Wait, sweetheart, your shoes...!"

Winterfell cut her off while harshly slamming open the hospital wing.

"Thank you," she called loudly, her voice far harder than normal.

Her hair breezed back as she entered the courtyard of the school, her lips drawn in a tight line. Gale greeted her warmly as he always did, it brought a smile to her face and she softly greeted him back.

However, as she sped walked toward Morton Hall, Winterfell decided she was not going quick enough. Her breathing picked up with her anger, thoughts of everything still playing out in her mind.

The wind came and picked her up, Winter shooting toward Morton Hall as she floated with the wind. She landed seconds after in front of the familiar doors. Seeing as it was the middle of class, there were not many people out to witness what had just happened.

But those that had, especially the few random VK's skipping class gaped at the sight of a bright head shoeless girl flying!

For once in a very very very VERY long time, Winterfell Frost did not care. And in that moment something in her gaze gleamed a familiar sparkle — something that was entirely Jack Frost.

Winterfell paused upon gripping the handle to Morton Hall. Her eyes flickered, shoeless toes wiggling on the cold ground. Breathing a deep sigh Winter attempted to push it down, but her energy was waiting — she could not fight her own powers and rage and emotions anymore. She could not ignore it.

It was forcing its way out — everything in her was forced to be released.

Her bottom lip trembled and angry tears threatened to spill. The wind picked up harshly and the few people outside yelped in shock at the sudden wind which swept through campus. Trash cans and small stands fell over and trees rocked dangerously at the gust.

She brought her hand down from the door, fists clenched to her sides.

In a moment of pure rage and uncontrollable emotions, Winter screamed.

She literally opened her mouth and let out one of the most raw and emotion driven yells of her life. It spoke of anger and sadness, but no tears fell. Winterfell trembled and she cared not for the people looking at her.

A few moments later, she breathed deeply feeling slightly more relieved upon releasing that. However, it was far from over, instead she spun around.

"Enjoy an early snow!" She yelled out to no one in particular, ignoring the many gaping mouthes.

Instantly the sky turned grey and snowfall came very early this year, a light snow that swept the entirety of Auradon. Winterfell was breathing heavily, it felt good to release and to allow it all to fall away.

The few VK's in the courtyard looked at the snow in amazement having never seen the frozen water. Whipping back around, Winter stormed into Morton Hall small whisps of frost appearing with every step she took.

It was not long until she walked into her room, the door being left unlocked.

Her room was not messy. In fact, everything had been cleaned up and it looked as it had before all the shit went down. She grumbled slamming the door closed behind her and pacing the length of her dorm.

Hands ran through her locks as she considered what to do from here. How the hell was she supposed to feel after being possessed and killing somebody? What the fuck do you do after that? Pretend like everything is okay and move on? Continue to study for each and every test? Continue to pretend as though she was not in love with her soul mate? Continue to prepare to become something that she did not want to be? Continue to beware and never release?

She could not — not anymore.

Winterfell screamed again, whirling around and coming face-to-face with the full length mirror in her room. She was staring at herself, sure. But it still felt wrong, as though her reflection was not her own. She knew it was — there was no demon staring back this time, but she still did not feel at peace with herself.

Her white hair fell in long strands and her big brown eyes shown of sadness and anger. Winterfell did not know what do with so many negative emotions and memories. She growled, surging forward and in an instant she took that full length mirror and hid it under her bed, then she took the mirror that hung by her door, then her hand mirror, and anything else that gave a well-enough reflection.

And when she had hidden it all under her bed she walked into her bathroom and stared at herself in the one mirror that she could not take down. The bathroom mirror that was installed on the wall.

She stared at herself once again, but she was met with the same thing. Winterfell Frost — the girl who could not catch a damn break.

Her bottom lip wobbled and she rested her weight against the sink. It was too much.

Her mind flashed.

"Help! Help! Mom, Dad, Harry?! ANYBODY...! Please..."

"No one can hear your scream..."

"Mommy, Daddy — help me! He has me, Wenlock has me!"

"Winterfell!"

"My darling — we'll find you! Be brave, be strong, and never hold back!"

Winter collapsed, her shoulders shook and the sound of her sobs filled the bathroom. She curled in on herself, resting her head between her knees — she wanted nothing more than to forget and not think about it.

Make it stop.

She gasped.

Make it stop.

She clutched her head.

Make it stop.

The wind howled and Winterfell stood up. She could not look at this room anymore, she could not bare to be in the school right now: she had to leave Auradon, damn it! She had to get out... NOW!

There was no hesitation on her part. She leaped from the bathroom, flying to her window. Grunting while opening the window she was greeted with chilly air, a heavy wind, and light snowfall.

She was actually rather impressed with herself, she did not freeze out the entirety of Auradon with a huge blizzard. But, if she was being honest, she figured a lot of it had to do with her dad. He was still the dominant spirit who brought winter, it would be incredibly hard for Winterfell to override him.

Hopefully he would not notice this light snowfall that she brought.

Winterfell climbed onto the ledge before jumping off. She allowed herself to simply fall, her arms outstretched and front arched toward the ground.

One ... two ... three

She opened her eyes and just as she was about to hit the ground, Winterfell launched into the air at unprecedented speeds. The wind hit her face harshly the cool air relaxing her and whipping her long hair behind her.

Soon she reached heights where she could simply glide over the lands, the girl not taking in any scenery as she simply allowed Gale to take her quickly as possible. The land and oceans passed below in a blur, it was minutes — and a trip which could have taken days was finished.

Winter rounded the familiar mountains before her eyes landed on a town hidden within a valley, a river that opened into the ocean on one side of the town.

Arendelle. Home.

Winterfell smiled slightly, taking a dive into the town. She made sure to stay hidden, there was no need for anybody to see her in such a state. It was not hard to stay hidden for once her bare feet touched ground behind a building and Winterfell was peaking out she could see that the townspeople were laughing and dancing in the townsquare.

She rose a brow when she heard familiar laughter: laughter that made her feel better near instantly. Looking to where the commotion was happening she was greeted by her father. His forever youthful face lit up with a mischevivous grin, hair being tousled by the wind as he created a snowball in his grasp.

Jack Frost winked to the group of kids he was playing with, all the children giggling as he mockingly snuck up on an equally as youthful blond beauty.

Elsa was speaking to a few of the townspeople when she was hit in the back with a snowball. She gasped whirling around only to be greeted by her barefoot husband bent in half laughing at her.

She growled created five snowballs and launching them at him. He immediately ceased laughing only dodging one before he was hit with four others. The children were hollering with glee and laughing loudly as the two winter spirits bust out in an all-out snowball war against each other.

Even after over 25 years of partnership and marriage, the two still had that playfulness that normally left couples within the first few months of being together.

Winter smiled at the sight of her parents, leaning against the wall and remembering the days when she was younger — before Auradon — and this was how they would spend their days. For just a second the loud thoughts and negative memories went away, only to be replaced by feelings of love and happiness: memories shrouded with joy.

"You'll never find me, Papa,"

"Wanna bet?"

Laughter.

"You're on, loser has to eat dirt!"

"What!? That's so gross, Winterfell!"

"Then don't lose, old man!"

"I'm not old!"

"One of your nicknames is literally old man Winter!"

"That's beside the point!"

Winterfell smiled and laughed as her dad tripped and fell only to have a huge pile of snow appear mid-air and fall on him. But that smile disappeared, and she wanted to nothing more than to race over hug her parents.

She wanted to sob into her mother's arms and beg her to take away everything that happened. Winter wanted to hide behind her father and allow him to protect her from all the bad things in the world. She wanted him to just make her laugh.

But Winter was not sure that she was ready to let her parents in on everything. It was not that she thought they'd be mad at her, but her dad had a temper at times and he could easily take it out on FG. Blaming Fairy Godmother would ultimately lead to them pulling her from school and keeping her with them.

While that did not sound like such a bad thought at this moment in time: Winterfell would miss her friends dearly.

She had to consider telling her parents for a little bit longer. She would eventually but it was just not something she had the energy to do at the moment. And so, she quickly scurried up in the air allowing the wind to bring her over to the familiar Arendellian castle.

She passed by the huge statue of her grandparents outside, darting from the eyes of any of the workers and shooting an open window on the second floor. Thankfully, the corridor she arrived in was empty allowing for her to take a much needed breath.

She did not stand around and wait to get caught though, instead she moved to the familiar door at the end of the corridor. With no hesitation Winterfell knocked praying that she was inside. Her prayer's were answered for not even a second later she heard, "Damn Soren I already told you! Take your ice and shove it up your—" she did not finish her sentence for as soon as she swung her door open Sitara was greeted by the sight of her younger cousin.

Winterfell stood in front of her looking as though she had been through it. Dark bags under eyes, a scared look in anxiety-ridden gaze, and once again the girl was skinnier than she had been when she left at the end of the summer.

"Winterfell?" Sitara whispered.

Winterfell could not get any words out other than a small sob as she collapsed forward. Sitara easily caught her, hugging the girl tightly and hushing her: rubbing small circles into her back.

"It's okay, you're home now, shh," she comforted her younger cousin.