#solstråle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlgenius1111 · 6 months

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all of my past i tried to erase it

part 3 of family line tensions are still high between Ingrid and her sister. Mapi tries to keep the peace. Solstråle tries to pretend she's fine. Ingrid tries to pretend she isn't going insane not understanding what is going on. cw: mentions of poor mental health / panic attacks. ingrid is pretty worried about solstråle and whether or not she is safe.

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It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Mapi bringing her parents to the match shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did. You didn’t really have an explanation for it, either. You saw Ingrid talking to Mapi’s mom and it felt like everything that had gotten marginally better in the last few days had miraculously disappeared.

You were 8 again, sitting in the office at school, fielding pitying looks from the office ladies. Both of your parents were busy watching one of Ingrid’s matches; at just 16, she was playing for Rosenborg. Your mom was supposed to bring you to watch, too. She’d forgotten.

You were 10 again, lying to the school nurse that your parents hadn’t known you’d hurt your hand. She said it looked broken, and you pretended that you hadn’t asked your mom to take you to the doctor the night before. You pretended your mom hadn’t told you to stop faking injuries when the attention wasn’t on you for one minute.

You were 13 again, sobbing into your pillow, while everyone celebrated just down the hall. Ingrid was leaving to play in Lillestrøm. 5 hours away. She was leaving you behind.

You were 16, having just been dumped by your first girlfriend. You’d come home in tears, and when you told your dad what was wrong, he told you it was for the best, that a girlfriend was just a distraction. He warned you not to bother your sister with this, because she was busy with much more important things in Barcelona.

You were 17, so drunk you could barely speak, walking home on a dark road in the middle of the night because neither of your parents had answered the phone to come and get you from the horrific party you already regretted attending. It was dark, a windy road you were walking along, and if a car came, you weren’t sure your reflexes would be quick enough. You were 17, stumbling over the smooth pavement, the depression you’d been trying to drown in alcohol making a reappearance. You were 17, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it all ended there, just like this.

You were 17, standing in the airport with your parents, preparing to board the plane to Spain. You leaned in towards your mother for a hug. She avoided it, pinching your cheek lightly, and reminding your father that they had a dinner reservation to get to. You watched them walk out of the airport from your place in the security line. Your vision was blurred with tears, but you still could tell that they didn’t look back at you once. You were 17, and your mom hadn’t told you she loved you before you moved across the continent.

In a second, all of these memories that you’d fought so hard to keep locked away deep inside your head were flooding out. Tears were pricking your eyes, and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Ingrid didn’t care. Mapi didn’t care. You weren’t worth caring about. How had you forgotten that? How had you let yourself forget that, after everything?

Ingrid didn’t see your expression change, too busy thanking Mapi’s parents profusely for coming to see her play. Mapi did, though. She watched as you caught sight of your sister talking to her mom, and she watched as you flinched like someone had swung at you. She watched as you slipped out of the crowd, speed walking into the building. Mapi was torn in 2 directions, Ingrid on one side, and you running off the other way. You needed Ingrid, most definitely but Mapi didn’t like the look on your face as you ran off, like all of the emotion had been sucked out of you, and all that was left was exhaustion.

Someone else had noticed your disappearing act, though. Caro stood, staring after you, before her gaze fell to Mapi, raising an eyebrow. The defender nodded, and Caro followed after you, while Mapi turned to her girlfriend. She pulled her away from her parents with an apologetic smile, appreciating that Alexia walked over and picked up the conversation where it had left off.

“Ingrid, vamos,” Mapi whispered urgently. Ingrid looked at her, confused and unmoving.

“What? I was in the middle of a conversation, María,” the Norwegian scolded.

“I know, it’s your Solstråle, though, she’s upset, come on,” Mapi insisted, pulling on Ingrid’s hand, who finally seemed to feel a sense of urgency, and let Mapi lead her into the building.

“Upset? Why? Did something happen?”

“She saw you with my mom and just looked really upset.” Mapi explained. A bit of understanding washed over Ingrid’s face, and now she was the one leading her girlfriend, rushing down the hall and beginning to open door after door in search of you.

Caro, meanwhile, had found you pretty easily. You were on the floor of a room she often came to when she was overwhelmed, although that happened much less these days. You knew Caro, obviously, and she knew you, had known you since you were pretty young. She had a calming presence, and the minute she sat next to you, and extended her hand in your direction, you took it gratefully.

“Mapi is bringing Ingrid.” She told you, but didn’t say anything else. She just sat next to your trembling form and held your hand. It was enough for now, enough until your sister arrived.

And when Ingrid did arrive, it was with a loud bang as she threw the door open, sighing in relief at the sight of you. Though, that relief quickly dissolved back into worry at the state you were in. She quickly took Caro’s place at your side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your sister was surprised when you turned and threw your arms around her neck, crying silently into her shirt.

“Jeg har deg, kjære. Det er greit, du er ok.” She murmured, looking worriedly at the other two women hovering in the doorway of the room. Mapi nodded at her encouragingly, and Ingrid refocused, rubbing a hand slowly up and down your back.

“Thank you,” Mapi muttered to Caro, as they both stepped into the hall to give you some space.

“Of course.” Caro said easily. “She having a hard time?”

“Which one?” Mapi asked wryly. “Yes. It’s… it’s a work in progress.”

“She’s a good kid.” Caro noted, Mapi nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Marta and I are around if either of you need anything.”

“Thank you, Caro. Really.” Mapi said, squeezing the forward’s shoulder. Caro just shrugged like it was no big deal, and headed back out to the pitch. When Mapi reentered the room, you were tucked perfectly into Ingrid’s lap, although you seemed to have calmed down some. Ingrid was speaking to you in hushed Norwegian, and something she said had you lurching away from her and to your feet, stumbling blindly to the door.

“Solstråle, wait,” Ingrid called, not really sure what she said to upset you, but well aware that it had been something. You fell right into Mapi’s arms, and though she looked a little startled, she easily pulled you close.

“Okay, it’s alright. We’re all okay.” She murmured, noticing the rather heartbroken expression on her girlfriend’s face at the fact that you had fled from her right into Mapi’s arms. After a few minutes, you said something quietly that neither girl could hear. “What was that, nena?”

“Can we go ho- back to the house?” You asked, correcting yourself quickly, and pulling away from the comforting embrace Mapi had you in. Ingrid felt like you’d stabbed her, honestly, when you didn’t let yourself call it home. You were stoic again, though, your face void of emotion, wiping roughly at your cheeks to rid them of tears.

“Kjære,” Ingrid said, hating the way you forced all evidence of your breakdown away. You’d been so upset, about something, but now you were acting as though nothing had happened. Your sister would have climbed into your brain if she could’ve, just to understand what was going on in there.

“Let’s go home.” Mapi said easily, shooting her girlfriend a meaningful look. Ingrid wasn’t supposed to push you, she knew that. It was just getting harder and harder to not do so, especially when she could see how much pain you were in. She couldn't understand why you wouldn’t just talk to her, and you couldn’t understand why she was so concerned or why she was so desperate to hear what you were feeling. And considering it was the two of you, the situation was bound to blow up into an argument. It was just a matter of time.

-------

Ingrid knew what was coming before her phone rang, but she still desperately wanted to avoid it. She was quite comfortable at the moment, curled up on top of Mapi in their bed, a show playing softly in the background. Mapi was scratching lightly at Ingrid’s scalp with one hand, and tracing lines over her back with the other. The movements made Ingrid’s entire body relax, which had definitely been Mapi’s goal, but it was all interrupted when her phone went off from next to her.

She sat up off her girlfriend, glancing at the screen, her expression hardening.

“Your mom?” Mapi guessed, pulling Ingrid back down into her when the Norwegian declined the call.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her since Solstråle’s letter, have you?”

“No.” Ingrid said. “I think I hate her right now.”

Mapi was surprised, only because Ingrid didn’t hate anyone. If there was going to be a person, though, it would be someone who had hurt you. Because Ingrid didn’t like to kill spiders she found in the house, but Mapi knew she would kill a person for you without a second thought. “That’s okay. You can hate her.”

“I miss her.” Ingrid admitted after another minute, her voice cracking. Her forehead was scrunched with sadness, and her hands gripped Mapi’s shirt tight in her hands.

Mapi sighed, wishing she could take Ingrid’s pain away. And yours too, for that matter. “You can miss her too. You can feel whatever you need to feel.”

“No, I can’t, not when Solstråle is so upset,”

“How your sister feels does not limit how you feel. You can be hurt, and sad, and frustrated too. It doesn’t take away from pequeña’s feelings. Just like her feelings don’t take away from yours. You are both upset. That’s alright.” Mapi said confidently. “This isn’t just happening to your sister. It’s happening to you, too, and you can be sad, mi amor. You can cry.”

Ingrid hadn’t even known she’d been about to cry until Mapi said that, but suddenly there were tears running down her face, and she was clutching tightly to the Spaniard underneath her, who did not seem surprised at all at the sudden emotion.

“I know, baby.” Mapi husked, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of Ingrid’s head. She knew Ingrid needed this, and was content to let her cry it out until she heard a sharp breath from the doorway. You were standing just outside the room, frozen and horrified.

“I’m sorry, Ing,” you mumbled, having come in to say goodnight, rather stunned to see your sister so distraught.

Ingrid could only cry harder, now furious with herself for letting you see this, but too upset to do anything but squeeze Mapi’s hand, wordlessly begging for her to do something.

“Ven aqui, nena, it’s alright.” Mapi said, gesturing you over to the bed. You looked skeptical, but you did so anyway, carefully sitting on the bed next to your sister.

“I’m really sorry, Ingrid, I don’t mean to stress you out.” You whispered. You were in a guilty mood, it seemed, not an angry one, and Ingrid felt that somehow, she preferred when you were angry to this.

“Don’t apologize, pequeña. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ingrid is upset, and you’re upset. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to cry.” Sometimes, Mapi felt like she was teaching preschoolers how to identify and express their emotions when she talked to the both of you, though that might be an easier task.

“I’m not upset with you, Solstråle, I am upset with mom, and I am upset with myself. You don’t need to say sorry. Not for having a panic attack, for having a hard time, for any of it.” Ingrid managed then, taking your hand in hers.

“I’m doing my best.” You said. “I know I’m not making it easy, but I promise I’m trying.”

“We know you are. You’re doing so well, nena.” Mapi said enthusiastically, with so much excitement at you saying something remotely positive about yourself that you and Ingrid both cracked smiles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ingrid asked after a minute. At that, you withdrew, pulling your hand from Ingrid’s and rising from the bed. Both your sister and her girlfriend repressed sighs at your sudden withdrawal.

“No, I’m really tired. I came to say goodnight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You rushed out, before bolting out of the room at a speed that could barely be considered a walk.

Ingrid sighed once you were out of earshot, settling back into Mapi. “She’s so difficult.”

“She’s stubborn. Like her sister. She’ll come around, just give her time.” Mapi assured her.

Giving you time, though, was a lot harder than it seemed.

-------

Your whole life, you had been encouraged by your parents to be smaller, to take up less space. If you were upset, you should keep it to yourself. If you were angry, you should calm down. You were taught that your needs always came second to everyone else’s. You didn’t like to be vulnerable with people, and you didn’t like to put your emotions on others.

So when you woke up the next day, it was the feeling of intense shame swirling around inside of you. You’d ruined what was an impressive win for your sister, and a nice moment with Mapi’s parents. You’d upset Ingrid, so much so that she had cried about it.

Too much. You were being too much.

You resolved yourself to be happy today. If not happy, content. Mapi and Ingrid probably needed a day off from your ridiculous, all over the place, emotions. So today, you wouldn’t feel. You’d be perfect, you’d be small, and you’d cause as little trouble as possible.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for that to be the opposite of what Mapi and Ingrid wanted from you. They didn’t care if you took up space. They just wanted you to talk. More than anything, they just wanted you to be okay, no matter how inconvenient that process was for them.

It was a day off for both girls, due to the match the day before, and they were able to let you sleep in. Ingrid was worried you were sleeping too much, but Mapi assured her that angsty teens always needed a lot of sleep, and depressed teens going through a rough time needed even more sleep. Pair that with the intense panic attack you’d had the day before, you were bound to be exhausted.

When noon rolled around, though, and you’d yet to make an appearance, Mapi relented, much to Ingrid’s relief, who had half a mind to check you for a pulse. Mapi made a coffee to bring up to you, opening your door quietly to find you out cold under the covers.

With Snø clutched tightly in your arms, your nose pressed against the soft polar bear, you looked so young.

“Pequeña, despierta,” Mapi murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling the covers away from your face a bit.

You blinked up at her groggily, an adorably sleepy expression on your face, and Mapi couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face and smile down at you. You looked slightly suspicious, as you couldn’t remember being woken up like this in the entire time living in Spain, but Mapi just handed you your coffee, and settled on the edge of your bed.

“Morning,” you said after a minute and a rather large sip of coffee.

“Afternoon.” Mapi corrected, a little confused when your face turned red at the comment. “It’s 12:15.”

“That’s weird. Normally Ingrid comes to make sure I’m breathing if I sleep past 10.” You noted.

Mapi chuckled. “We’re working on some of your sister’s annoying habits.”

“Don’t get rid of too many, or there won’t be anything left.” You said, your lips tugging up into a smirk.

“Okay! I will just go through this chocolate croissant I made for you in the garbage!” Ingrid scoffed from the doorway, turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs.

If there was any surefire way to get you out of bed, it was to present you with a breakfast pastry.

Within 90 seconds, you had kicked Mapi out, thrown some clothes on and bounded down the stairs, in search of the promised croissant. It was sitting on a plate at the counter, waiting for you, next to your sister who was glaring at you slightly.

“Thank you, Ing,” you said sweetly, throwing her a charming smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

You hit Mapi’s hand playfully when she reached for your croissant, and she withdrew it with a laugh. “You’re like breakfast pastries the way Ingrid is about coffee.”

“Reasonable? Reasonably attached to it? Is that what you mean, María?” Ingrid asked with a frown.

“Of course, mi amor.” Mapi said with a smile, kissing Ingrid’s cheek softly. You averted your eyes, but you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make you happy to see your sister loved so well.

The morning, or afternoon, was going exactly as you’d hoped. No attempts at conversation. No feelings. Of course, it couldn’t last. Once you’d finished eating, Ingrid perked up and seemed to prepare herself for what she was about to say, which instantly made you weary.

“We should talk about last night, kjære.” Ingrid said calmly.

You froze, slowly putting your mug back on the counter. Both other girls watched the way your whole body tense, the way every ounce of emotion was wiped off your face.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” You said stiffly.

“That is not true. Something upset you, and we should discuss it.” Ingrid argued.

“Ingrid, it’s fine. Just leave it. We don’t need to talk about that. We don’t need to talk about anything.” You replied defensively.

“It’s not fine!” Ingrid said, raising her voice, and shaking off Mapi’s gestures to calm down. “None of this is fine. We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about the letter you wrote. We need to get you in therapy. These are all things that need to happen, solstråle. We’ve given you time, now we need to do this.”

“I am not going to therapy.” You declared, standing up with a scoff and crossing your arms across your chest. “Ingrid, I am fine. I don’t need to talk and I don’t need help.”

Ingrid grew visibly more angry with you at that, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration.

“Amor, take a breath.” Mapi said quietly, sighing to herself when Ingrid did not do so.

“You don’t need help? That is the most untrue thing I have ever heard. You do not write the things that you wrote and then turn around and say you’re fine. You. Need. Help.”

“Ingrid. I am not going to therapy, and I am done talking about this.” You said, your voice dangerously quiet.

Your sister wasn’t phased, stepping closer to you with her eyes narrowed. “You will go to therapy if I say you will, and this conversation is not over until I say it is.”

In retrospect, even Ingrid realized that this was decidedly the wrong thing to say. You didn’t take well to being told what to do. Your reaction really should have been worse; Ingrid had gotten off easy.

“Jesus, Ingrid, do you hear yourself? You sound just like mom.” You spit back, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the hurt that flashed across your sister’s face. “I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you.” You spun around and began stomping towards the stairs. “Don’t fucking follow me.” You warned over your shoulder, causing Ingrid’s jaw to drop.

“Do not-” Ingrid began, starting after you.

“Amor, leave her.” Mapi said, intervening before Ingrid got very far, and pulling her back.

“She is the most frustrating person on the planet.” Ingrid huffed, slamming a hand down onto the counter. Mapi looked unimpressed.

“She is probably thinking the same thing about you right now. I told you not to push her.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Could you be on my side here for once?” She asked bitingly.

Mapi very calmly shook her head, opening her mouth to explain when Ingrid’s eyebrows flew up on her forehead. “No. I am on your sister’s side, and you should be too. No one has been for a really long time.”

The Norwegian deflated at that, sinking down into one of the stools at the counter. Mapi continued speaking, pulling Ingrid’s hair gently out of the bun it was in, and running her fingers through it. “You’re looking at this wrong, mi amor. She doesn’t need you to talk her into therapy. She’ll get there on her own, you just need to give her time. That girl has a long way to go before she admits she needs help, believe me.”

Ingrid sighed deeply. “Can you go check on her? She’s mad at me, I just need you to make sure she’s okay and she isn’t going to do anything stupid.”

“Of course.” Mapi said, delicately kissing Ingrid’s lips. “I love you.” She reminded the Norwegian with a soft, almost shy smile.

Ingrid wanted to cry at how sweet, how perfect, how helpful and kind and funny and beautiful her girlfriend was. “I love you, so so much.”

Mapi headed for the stairs, and Ingrid made yet another cup of coffee, a coffee she wouldn’t drink.

Because Mapi came running back down the stairs a minute later, an apprehensive look on her face as she approached her girlfriend.

“Mi amor, she isn’t up there.” She said carefully.

“What do you mean she isn’t up there,” Ingrid asked, rising to her feet and feeling panic rise within her.

Mapi just shook her head, putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders. “She isn’t up there. Her window is open, I think she snuck out.”

Ingrid felt like something inside of her was collapsing, leaving behind a chasm that was quickly filling with anxiety. “Where… what? She… she’s gone? She…we have to-”

What had you left to do? Only horrible, life shattering options of where you were and what you were doing were flying through Ingrid’s head, and she reached out, latching on to Mapi’s outstretched hands.

“Amor, breathe. Calm down. We’ll find her. Where would she go?”

Mapi hoped, with everything in her, that Ingrid had an answer. Because she had to be calm right now, for Ingrid, but Barcelona was a big city. And if you didn’t want to be found… Mapi didn’t know what would happen.

Ingrid’s mind was racing, but one thought pushed to the front of everything else. “The lake, there’s a lake in Melhus she would always go to when she was upset. She’d go to water, a body of water.”

Mapi nodded. “Okay, there are 2 beaches in walking distance, in opposite directions. We’ll go to one, and we’ll send Frido to the other.”

Privately, Mapi hoped Frido found you first. She wasn’t quite sure that you wouldn’t bolt away from Ingrid, but you wouldn’t be expecting Frido to pop up.

-------

A quick call to Frido later, Mapi was directing one very frazzled Norwegian into the car, and setting off for the beach. Ingrid was deep in thought, and Mapi kept her hand on her girlfriend’s leg, softly and soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth. It was only a few minutes to the beach, and Mapi knew Ingrid would talk before they arrived.

“Do you think she’d do something stupid?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her hand covering Mapi’s and gripping tightly. The Spaniard didn’t need her to explain what she meant; she knew this question was coming, really.

“She said she wouldn’t.” Mapi said calmly.

“She said she wouldn’t ‘do that to me,’ that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do it, especially now that she’s mad at me.”

“This is a little fight. She wouldn’t… do that. Not over this.” Mapi reassured her, but Ingrid remained unconvinced.

“I don’t know what she’s thinking, María, maybe she was lying before.”

“Ingrid, mi amor, calm down. You have to trust her. Even when you’re scared, and even when it feels like you should take her bedroom door off the hinges and implant her with a GPS chip. You have to trust her not to hurt herself.”

“But what if she does?” Ingrid asked softly, as if saying the words loud enough would somehow will it into existence.

“We can’t think like that. Promise me you won’t think like that, okay?”

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed faintly. Both of them knew she was lying. It was all she’d been worrying about for days, and all she would worry about for many to come.

--------

Frido found you first. When she drove by the beach and didn't see you there, she got another idea. There was a rock climbing place nearby; Ingrid had said you always used to go to a lake back home when you were upset. Though Frido didn’t want to say so, it had been a long time since Ingrid had lived with you, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if your habits had changed. And the Swede knew from your instagram that you spent a lot of time rock climbing. She told Mapi where she was headed, and sped over to the gym.

Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the building, she spotted you in the middle of the hardest wall, seemingly only using the smallest holds to get yourself up. You were breathing hard, and the worker belaying you looked a bit concerned.

Frido pulled her phone out, shooting off a quick text to Mapi. “She’s here, she’s okay. Let me talk to her, don’t let Ingrid come in. I’ll bring her out.”

Ingrid probably wouldn’t help the situation, if you were as angry as you seemed. The blonde spoke quickly to the front desk attendant, and headed over to where you were.

She stood, just watching you. You were a few feet from the top now, luckily for your hands, which you clearly had not put enough chalk on, and were beginning to really hurt. With only a bit to go, you took a risk, attempting an impressive, one armed pull to get your other hand to the next hold. You just barely missed, falling away from the wall.

“Fuck,” you cursed, swinging back towards the wall and smacking it with your hand. You were lowered down, clearly fuming, and Frido took the opportunity to step in front of you, giving the girl attached to the other end of the rope a look.

“Again,” you requested, avoiding Frido’s gaze.

She took your hand in hers, though, inspecting the tear in your skin, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough Solstråle.”

“Leave me alone, Frido.” You snapped, trying to pull away from her when you felt the rope fall slack. You turned, seeing that the worker had abandoned her harness in favor of going to help someone else, no doubt at Frido’s direction.

You rolled your eyes, quickly regretting it when the Swede raised an eyebrow at you. Ingrid could be scary sometimes, but she had nothing on Frido.

“Are they here?” You asked, loosening the harness and stepping out of it with an exasperated sigh.

“They’re outside. You terrified your sister.” Frido said, pulling you over to a bench and making you sit down, before handing you a bottle of water.

You looked unimpressed. “I’m 18, I can handle myself in the city for an hour.”

“She wasn’t worried about that, she was worried you were going to hurt yourself.” Frido said bluntly, sitting down next to you. She ignored how stiff you’d grown and how uncomfortable you seemed, reaching for your hand and looking at it critically.

“That wasn’t on purpose.” You said defensively, wrenching your hand away once again. “And I told her I wouldn’t do that.”

“Can you blame her for worrying, Solstråle, really? And maybe you didn’t do that on purpose, but you came here to push yourself instead of dealing with your feelings in a healthy way.”

You really hated that she was right. Frido was always right. It was simultaneously her worst and best trait.

“Are they mad?” You asked in a small voice, suddenly looking very much your age. Frido stood and held out a hand to help you up.

“Not right now. Just worried. Ingrid’s going to give you a hug and you’re going to let her.” Frido instructed. You supposed that was fair. And really, you could use a hug. Hugs from your sister always made you feel better, even if you’d never admit it.

As you exited the building, you instantly spotted your sister and her girlfriend by their car. Mapi was leaning calmly against the Cupra, while Ingrid was pacing frantically, speaking fast and gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Did I do that?” You asked quietly.

Frido laughed. “I think she was born like that.”

As you neared the car, Ingrid turned as Mapi pointed at you, her face melting with relief at the sight of you. It really hit you, then, how worried she must have been, to still be so anxious even after Frido had likely told her you were okay. You weren’t making this easy on your sister.

She practically knocked you over with the force of her hug. “You’re okay.” She murmured into the top of your head, leaving a kiss there.

“I’m okay.” You reiterated, letting yourself hug her back tightly, even if it was just for a moment. She felt you tighten your arms around her almost unconsciously, and made a note to hug you more often. Even if it seemed like you weren’t very interested. After a minute she pulled back, placing both hands on your cheeks and making you look at her.

“Next time leave through the front door? And tell me where you’re going? Please?” She asked. You appreciated that she didn’t tell you to do this, leaving it more as a request, although you knew it was a reasonable rule for her to put in place.

“Promise.” You said quietly. She nodded her head, satisfied, before pulling Frido into a hug that also looked to be too tight. Mapi was looking at you, rather unimpressed. You knew she was not happy with you for upsetting your sister so much, and though it annoyed you a bit, you knew it was deserved. And you appreciated that your sister had someone that was so protective over her.

“In the car, nena. I want to talk to you when we get home.” Mapi instructed. You got in the car with no argument, the fight having gone out of you a bit. It had nothing to do with the hug Ingrid had given you, nothing at all. Definitely not. Instead of anger, you only felt apprehension, because Mapi looked dead serious about whatever she wanted to talk about.

-------

You were nothing short of shocked when Mapi opened the door to the garage and gestured you inside upon arriving home. Ingrid watched on anxiously, and you pretended not to see the way Mapi whispered some reassurance to her and kissed her cheek, before pointing her towards the kitchen

You’d never been in the garage before; it was Mapi’s space. You were already invading her home, you wouldn’t invade the one place of the house that was really hers, too. You knew she worked something out there, knew there was a reason both cars parked in the driveway instead of in the garage.

Mapi followed you into the room and sat down on a stool next to the large motorcycle in the middle of the garage. It was clearly in the process of being restored. You hadn’t known Mapi rode motorcycles. Well, you hadn’t known that your sister let Mapi ride a motorcycle. You stood awkwardly in the door as Mapi inspected 2 different wrenches, until she pointed at the stool next to her.

“Ven aqui, nena.” She said.

You took a seat, not really enjoying the tense silence that washed over the room. “Are you mad at me?” You asked after a minute. For all your anger, and all your bravado, you didn’t like it when people were mad at you. Especially not people you looked up to, people you admired.

“No. Not mad, nena. Never mad. I wish you hadn’t snuck out your window, but I understand why you did. I wish sometimes you thought a bit more about how your actions affect me and your sister, but I know how hard that is to do when you’re as angry as you are.”

“I’m not angry.” You said defensively. Mapi rolled her eyes, handing you a couple of tools and beginning to tighten something on the bike.

“You are angry. You’re so angry that you feel like you’re going to explode sometimes. You’re so angry that sometimes you forget that you’re sad, too. You’re angry, and you’re hurt, and I cannot blame you for that. If anyone has a right to those emotions, it’s you.” You didn’t really enjoy being perceived so well, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I know angry, nena. Do you remember when I hurt my knee?”

You nodded. The first few weeks of Mapi's injury hadn’t been a fun time, your sister beyond stressed with dealing with Mapi’s injury and her new role in the team, and you’d tried hard to be on your best behavior.

“I started working on this bike a year ago, when everything happened with the Spanish federation. It was Ingrid’s idea, a way for me to distract myself. When I hurt my knee, it had been a bit since I’d worked on it, but suddenly I was back in this garage until all hours of the night. It’s nice to be able to control something like this, when everything else feels out of your control. That is how climbing is for you, yes?”

You relaxed a bit at the turn the conversation was taking, and Mapi wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t just the topic; it was the fact that she wasn’t staring at you, putting pressure on you to give her an answer she wanted to hear. You were just talking. Casually.

“Yeah. I’m in control, and I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s relaxing.”

“It’s good for you to have an outlet like that.” Mapi stated. “This bike was Ingrid’s idea, when we first got together. Do you know what her other idea was?”

You were pretty sure you did, and you grimaced at the thought. “Therapy?”

Mapi snorted, handing you the wrench she was using and taking the screwdriver from your hand. “Yes therapy. You don’t have to look at it like that, though, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“It’s not for me.” You said decisively.

Mapi just shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me either.” She paused, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d ask for more information.

“What changed your mind?” You asked after a minute.

“Your sister did. After the euros, I had a hard time coming back to Barça and playing. Those weeks were some of the hardest of my life, trying to find my rhythm again but trying to recover from the stress I’d been under that summer. I was a mess. And Ingrid was right there with me, through all of it. I’d had a really bad day, and I asked Ingrid to come home early from a lunch she had. She came home, calmed me down, and afterwards, she asked me if I trusted her. I said I did. And she said that she really wanted me to try therapy. That I didn’t have to feel how I felt, and I deserved help. I deserved to not be miserable. She asked me to try it, for her, just give it a try.”

“And you did.”

“And I did. Because she’d done so much for me, I couldn’t refuse her request. Not when I knew she just wanted the best for me. I gave it a shot, and it helped, more than anything else had helped. It wasn’t a fix all, but it helped. It made me feel like I was doing something to get better.”

Mapi abandoned her work on the bike, looking at you for the first time since you’d entered the garage. You could only see sincerity in her gaze. Not anger, but annoyance. Just sincerity. “You deserve help, Solstråle. No matter how you feel about yourself, Ingrid and I know you. And we know you deserve help. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy.”

María sounded so sure. So completely convinced. You looked away from her, blinking hard.

“You don’t have to agree to anything now. Keep an open mind about it. Think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed quietly, grateful that Mapi didn’t make a big deal out of it, only nodding slightly.

“One more promise?” She asked.

“What?”

“Talk to us. Or just me, or just Ingrid. We’re a little lost here, nena. It feels like we were just kind of plopped down in the middle of this. We had no idea anything was going on, not really. And all of a sudden we’re reading that letter, and realizing we missed a lot. That’s on us; we should have noticed sooner. We don’t have the whole picture, though, and that makes it really hard for us to figure out how to help you. We’ll both worry a lot less if you talked to us, just a little bit.”

That was reasonable, you had to admit. When she put it like that. You’d spent so much time being annoyed that no one had noticed, then being annoyed when they finally did notice, you hadn’t really spent a ton of time thinking about how little they knew. There was no context to your behavior, aside from what you’d put in the letter. And that just barely scratched the surface. You supposed they deserved an explanation. At least a bit of one.

“I’ll try.” You promised.

Mapi grinned at you this time, an infectious smile. “Bueno! Come here with that wrench. No, that one. Put it on this bolt. Twist.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. Easily. You got the feeling that Mapi would have let it go if you’d insisted on it, but you miraculously felt better. Talking, listening had made you feel better. Mapi had made you feel better.

-------

You both emerged from the garage around an hour and a half later, when the smell of baking cookies became too strong to resist. Ingrid had clearly been stress baking, one of your favorite of her habits. There were at least 3 different types of cookies on the counter, some done baking, some still in progress. It smelled so distinctly of home in the house, it was almost overwhelming.

“I have something for you,” Ingrid said, drying her hands and stepping away from the counter when you walked into the room.

“I can see that.” You said, nodding to the cookies appreciatively, but Ingrid shook her head.

“No, something else.” Ingrid said.

“OH! I do too.” Mapi said excitedly, and they both disappeared in different directions. You stood bewildered in the kitchen, not quite sure what you were about to be given.

They returned simultaneously, each holding what looked to be 2 frames. “Mapi’s first.” Ingrid directed. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

You looked surprisingly at Mapi, taking the present and beginning to unwrap the wrapping paper. “What is this for?” You asked.

“Your birthday.” Ingrid said quietly. You froze momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing across your face. “I know it seems like we forgot, but we didn’t. We got the dates messed up, but we had presents, and we had dinner reservations, just… for the 25th. Not the 15th.”

“Oh. I thought you’d forgotten.” You said slowly, seemingly slightly emotional.

“Nope, just bad at remembering dates. Now open your present.” Mapi said impatiently, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited child.

You unwrapped it slowly, as if you were slightly weary of what it might be. When you pulled the frame from the wrapping paper, though, every wall you’d put up fell instantly, your jaw dropping open at the piece of art in your hands.

It was a map. Not just a map, but a map of all the hiking trails in Barcelona. It was textured, detailed, labeled. It was intricate, all neutrals and earthy colors. It was so you. From the contents to the design, it was like it had been made just for you.

“Mapi…” You whispered, staring, stunned, at the map. “Where did you… how did you… what?”

“Ale’s sister Fresa went to school with this girl that hand makes maps like this. I got her name from diablillo, and I told her what I wanted. Do you like it, do you like it?” Mapi asked excitedly.

Mapi got her answer when you handed the frame to Ingrid, and launched yourself the few feet between you and Mapi, wrapping her in a tight hug. Mapi beamed at Ingrid, who was trying very hard not to cry. She hadn’t even given Mapi any advice on the gift. It had been all her girlfriend’s idea, she executed it all by herself, determined to get Solstråle the perfect gift.

“It’s perfect, thank you María,” you mumbled. The ridiculous smile on Mapi’s lips didn’t falter at the use of her real name, only squeezing you tighter.

“Te amo, Solstråle.” She said back. For once, you believed it. When you pulled away from the hug, it was to see Mapi looking smugly at your sister. “INGRID I DEFINITELY WON.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t even opened my present yet.”

“Still. I won.” Mapi smirked.

Now it was Ingrid’s turn to hand you your gift. It was wrapped in the same paper, and you tore it off, almost cautiously, not quite sure what Ingrid would have gotten you.

You were, once again, speechless at what you saw. This time, your eyes filled with tears immediately. Ingrid wasn’t as excited as Mapi had been, instead looking at you anxiously.

It was a painting of a waterfall back home not far from your house. It was so distinct, you knew Ingrid must have paid a ridiculous amount of money to get someone to hand paint it. Each individual stroke was so precise, blending perfectly into the image it was supposed to be, but if you focused hard, you could pick out the greens and greys and blues and whites that you’d grown up with.

It felt like home. It felt comforting. You could almost smell the trees, feel the cool sting of wind on your cheeks. It was a little piece of home just for you, and it was perfect. So beautiful and artistic that you weren’t sure you were worthy of it, but you looked at it in awe nonetheless. You wiped at your cheeks, not able to control the tidal wave of emotion washing over you.

“Kjære? Is it okay?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her eyes searching your face, trying to figure out if these were good tears or bad tears.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay? Ingrid… it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s… perfect. Thank you.” You said, turning to her with a look of complete shock. And even though it pained Ingrid that you were so surprised to receive a nice gift for your birthday, she pushed that feeling down. Instead, she pulled you in towards her, placing the frame on the counter so she could hug you properly. You were happy with it, now, and that was all Ingrid had control over.

After a few seconds, Ingrid moved to pull away and break the hug, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let go yet. Maybe it was the homesickness, or maybe it was your sister making you feel so known, and so loved. Whatever the reason, you just wanted her near you for a minute more, holding you nice and tight and safe against her.

“I love you,” she whispered, hearing you mumble the words back, your voice thick with emotion. When you did pull away, a minute later, it was to wipe at your face in an almost embarrassed manner.

Seeing how desperate you were for the attention to be off your tears, Mapi spoke up, her voice light and easy. “You can put them up in your room, you don’t have anything on the walls.”

You looked at the ground, then, almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know I could put anything up on them.” You admitted.

The room fell quiet, but even though you could tell that what you said had hurt Ingrid and Mapi, they just shook their heads softly. “It’s your room, for good, you can do whatever you want to it.” Ingrid told you.

You were about to thank her, and try to move the conversation long when Mapi let out a dramatic gasp. Both you and Ingrid whipped your heads to look at her, confused at the mischievous grin on her face.

“Ikea. WE CAN GO TO IKEA AND GET FURNITURE FOR SOLSTRÅLE’S ROOM.”

“María, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t want to redo her room.” Ingrid looked at you hopefully, and you knew it had nothing to do with your room, and everything to do with her not wanting to take Mapi to ikea.

You simply smirked back at Ingrid, who sighed and shut her eyes for a minute.

“Okay. Ikea.” She said finally. You and Mapi cheered, comically loudly, completely ignoring the rules she was setting in favor of high fiving each other and going to get ready to leave. “María, you are not building anything. Solstråle does not need her bed to collapse under her in the middle of the night. And kjære, please, please, don’t let Mapi talk you into a loft bed, you’ll fall off of it and break your arm. Amor? Kjære? ARE EITHER OF YOU LISTENING!” Ingrid shouted after you, rolling her eyes at the chants of ikea echoing around the house.

Mapi in Ikea was a handful. You, too, were a handful at the store. Together? She was going to lose one of you, she was sure of it. It had been a long day already. And it was only set to get longer.

--------

fluffy engen-león family trying to put furniture together in the next part?

yes, that IS all i have to say about this chapter thank you for your time.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #sol☀️#🍓☀️

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girlgenius1111 · 2 months

Text

nerves

sol's masterlist ☀️ 2nd grade shouldn't be as scary as it felt, but sol was quite used to things feeling scarier than they seemed to feel to other people. even if her parents weren't worried for her growing anxiety, though, ingrid was. [sol is 8 in this, and ingrid is 16] warnings: descriptions of anxiety + symptoms of anxiety.

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Your chest felt tight, tears falling quickly down your face as you sobbed into your pillow. Fear was gripping you, making it so that you couldn’t breathe right. It wasn’t a new feeling, it was one you’d experienced before, though you couldn’t quite put a name to it. You felt sick, sicker when you remembered what the following day was. You’d only been able to get a few hours of sleep before the feeling woke you up, and soon after, you were trembling in your bed, clutching tightly to Snø.

The feeling was becoming overwhelming, and you were suddenly worried you were going to throw up or stop breathing or something. It was this terrifying thought that had you pushing the covers back, and creeping out of your room. You went down the hall, passed your parents room as quietly as you could, before you pushed Ingrid’s door open.

“Ing?” You whispered, the low volume of your voice not disguising how shaky it was. The light clicked on, and your sister sat up in her bed, hair all messy. She blinked at you groggily, and you took a tentative step closer. “Ca-can I sleep in here?”

Your sister seemed to wake more, concern replacing the sleepy expression on her face. “Of course you can.”

She’d barely gotten the words out before you were scrambling forward onto her bed with her. Ingrid’s arms were already open, and you curled into her, allowing her long arms to wrap around you. This was where you undoubtedly felt safest, and it wasn’t surprising when the bad feeling dulled, just a bit.

“Solstråle, you’re shaking.” Ingrid murmured, frowning at the quiet whimper you gave in response. “What’s wrong, huh?” She wondered, tucking your head under her chin and rubbing your back.

You were sniffled, hiding your face in her neck and gripping her shirt in your fist as you snuggled even closer. “‘M Scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

Only here, in the dark and curled up against your favorite person, could you admit what was really terrifying you. “Don’t wanna go to school.”

“School is scaring you?” Ingrid wondered, not knowing you to have struggled with this in the past.

You nodded, the steady thumping of your sister’s heartbeat in your ear grounding you.

“Why?”

A shrug, this time, with you only speaking when Ingrid tried to extract your face from its hiding spot. “Don’t know. Just scared.”

You really didn’t know. No matter how much you tried to figure out why you were so terrified, nothing came to mind. There was no explanation. All you knew was that this feeling was sticking around, and you’d do just about anything to get rid of it.

“Is someone at school bothering you?” Ingrid asked, her voice dropping to anger at the mere thought.

“No.” You weren’t lying. Sure, the kids at school could be mean sometimes, but your biggest bully lived at home with you. You dealt with her every day, and the mean kids couldn’t hold a torch to your mother when she decided she’d had enough of you. The social aspect was a stressor, for sure, but it wasn’t the cause of the pit in your stomach. “It’s… it’s new. It’s different.”

“It’s not new, not really!” Ingrid tried to rationalize. “It’s the same school, you’ve been there before. You know how everything works. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s still new. A new year and a new teacher and a new class and new people and… I don’t wanna go. I want to stay here. Please.” You looked up at your sister, eyes wide and watery, and her heart truly broke. She hated that you were so upset, and she hated that she didn’t have the power to tell you that you didn’t have to go.

“School is important, Solstråle. You’ll be okay once you get there, I promise. It’s just the anticipation that’s causing you trouble.” Her voice was encouraging and kind, but you were merely puzzled, the word being unfamiliar to you.

“What is anticipation?”

“It’s like the waiting before something happens. It’s always worse than whatever actually happens.”

“What if it’s not better once I get there?” Ingrid was the person you trusted more than anyone in the world, but even she couldn’t put your nervousness to rest with just a few words. It was too intense for that to work.

“You go to the nurse, and you tell them you don’t feel well, and they’ll call Mamma. She’ll come get you, and we can try again tomorrow.” Ingrid explained rationally, believing herself that you’d be completely fine once you got to school.

“Mamma won’t come get me.” You murmured. At this point, Ingrid was used to the tension between you and your mother, and she knew that, likely, you were right. “She has a meeting with your manager. Pappa’s taking me in the morning because she’ll be gone all day, and then he’s going to work.”

Your sister remembered now. She was supposed to pick you up after school, because no one else would be home. When her mother had told her, she’d been a bit sad; it was your first day of school, and neither of your parents seemed to care very much.

“Then I’ll come get you.” Ingrid promised, making a mental note to cancel the plans she had with various friends, and the lunch date she was supposed to go on. If no one else would be there for you tomorrow, then she would make sure she was.

“Really?” You asked quietly, glancing up at her hopefully, and then looking away quickly, as if your hope would jinx it.

“Promise. You promise me to try your best to go and stay, and if you don’t feel better by lunch, I’ll come get you.”

Until lunch was a long time. A whole morning with the icky feeling in your stomach didn’t excite you, but Ingrid was already going out of her way to help, so the least you could do was accept her deal. “Okay. Promise.”

“Good. Now it’s bedtime, okay?”

“Kay.” You mumbled, closing your eyes tight to appease your sister, though your tight grip on her shirt didn’t relent. Ingrid turned the lamp back off and settled back under the covers, this time with you held close to her. She hoped that would be the end of it. When she woke the next morning, though, and you were already awake, staring at the ceiling with tears falling from your eyes, she knew it wouldn’t be.

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Your hands were shaking as you brought the little spoon to your lips, and your tummy twisted at the thought of putting food into your mouth. You’d managed a couple mouthfuls of cereal, but suddenly, it felt like another would make you sick that instant. Putting the spoon down, you reached for your glass of water, only your hand was still shaking, and the glass slipped from it, shattering back down onto the table. You jumped, startled. The water quickly ran off the table and down onto your father’s lap, as he swore. You shut your eyes tightly, awaiting the inevitable yelling that was sure to follow.

“Shit!” Your dad shouted, pushing his chair backwards and rising from his seat. His pants were soaked with water, and you knew he was wearing a new suit for an important meeting he had today.

“Sorry!” You cried, grabbing a napkin and weakly trying to mop up some of the water. “Sorry, Pappa.”

“Look what you’ve done!” He shouted, looking down to glare at you, only softening slightly when he saw your tears.

“It wasn’t on purpose.” You mumbled, shrinking into yourself in your seat. If you’d felt sick before, you felt like you might just curl up into a ball and die now.

“It doesn’t matter. You need to be more careful. Now I have to change, and you’re going to make both of us late.” Your father scolded, apparently oblivious intense distress.

“What’s all the yelling for?” Ingrid wondered, walking past her father as he stormed upstairs to change. You were crying silently, cleaning up the water as best you could. You didn’t respond to Ingrid’s question, though your dad did stop and turn to address your sister.

“Your sister is being clumsy, again. Can you take her to school, Ing? I have a meeting and I’ll be late if I take her.”

“Yeah, I can.” Ingrid agreed easily, still looking between you both with uncertainty.

“But… you’re supposed to walk me to my class and help me find my cubby. It’s my first day. Mamma said, you’re supposed to come with me.” You whimpered, your lower lip wobbling.

“I don’t have time for this.” Your father sighed, turning around and walking out of the room without another word.

“Pappa,” you called after him, really starting to panic now at the thought of having to manage everything all by yourself. Your Mamma had promised that Pappa would come with and help you get to class. It was the only thing that had stopped the absolute tantrum you’d thrown the day before when she told you she had to go to a meeting instead of taking you. You started to cry, for real now, bringing your hands to your face and instinctually trying to swallow your tears, to no avail.

Within a few seconds, though, there were hands on yours, pulling them away from your face, and you opened your eyes to see Ingrid kneeled in front of you. Unlike your father, Ingrid was deeply concerned with the way you were acting. It seemed to her to be more than just the regular first day butterflies; you were properly panicking now.

“Don’t want to go, Ingrid, I can’t do it by myself,” you sobbed, leaning forward until your sister wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a nice, tight hug.

“Shh, shh.” She soothed, running her fingers through your hair, noting that your father hadn’t even bothered to put it up into a ponytail like he was supposed to. “You won’t be alone, I’ll take you in. We’ll find your cubby, and meet your teacher, and everything will be fine, Solstråle.”

Leaning back, you looked at your sister skeptically. “Really?”

“Of course!” Ingrid said with a smile. She wiped a few tears from your cheeks, and straightened your shirt. Checking the clock, on the counter, she made an executive decision. “Let’s get your face rinsed off, and your hair braided, and then I’ll take you.”

With your hand in hers, Ingrid brought you to the bathroom, and for the first time that morning, you thought that things might be okay.

------

You walked into the school like you were heading for your own funeral, trudging along and dragging your feet next to your sister. Ingrid stuck by your side, though, as she’d promised to do, but the time for her to leave came all too soon. Seeing the tears welling in your eyes as the teacher called for everyone to say goodbye to their parents, she took your hand and led you over to the corner of the classroom. She knelt down in front of you, trying to seem relaxed and calm, hoping you could pick up on it.

“I’m gonna go now, Solstråle, but remember our deal?”

“I remember.” You mumbled, scrubbing your fist over your eye, desperate not to cry in front of your classmates.

“Okay. Just try for me, yeah? Until lunch, and if you’re still feeling nervous, go to the nurse and have them call me.” You nodded dutifully, leaning forward for a hug. Ingrid gave you one, squeezing tight. “Just try your best for me. I know you can do it, yeah?”

“Okay.” You didn’t think you could do it. In fact, you were almost sure you couldn’t, but disappointing your sister wasn’t an option, and surely she’d be disappointed if you didn’t hold up your end of the deal.

“I love you. I’ll see you soon.” Ingrid said, kissing your forehead and giving your hand one last squeeze.

“Love you too.” You watched your sister leave, feeling the lump in your throat grow as she headed out the door. You sat back down at your desk, fiddling with your pencil case instead of talking like your classmates were doing.

Pausing in the door to look back at you, Ingrid had to force herself to continue to walk out of the room. You looked so small, sitting at your desk all by yourself. Too shy to talk to your classmates, having found yourself in a class with none of your friends this year. There was nothing Ingrid hated more than seeing you crying, and she’d have been lying if she said a few tears didn’t slip down her face on her walk back home.

------

As it was, Ingrid hoped deeply that she wouldn’t get a call from the school. When she did, though, it wasn’t a call that she was expecting, aside from the fact that it was still hours until lunch time.

The nurse called your Mamma first. She didn’t answer, and then the nurse called your Pappa. He answered, quickly instructing the woman to call your Mamma again, and then Ingrid if she didn’t answer. He couldn’t come get you, he explained. He didn’t even ask to talk to you on the phone. Not even when he heard what happened.

It was your worst nightmare come true. The horrible feeling had just grown and grown and grown. You just wanted to go home. That was all you kept thinking, repeating it over and over to yourself.

Your teacher was going around the room, having each student introduce themselves and say a fun fact. You knew what to say. Your name, and then your fun fact, which was that your favorite color was green. Only, when the teacher called on you, and you opened your mouth, it wasn’t words that came out.

Instead, you leaned over and threw up all over the ground. The class gasped around you, and a few of the boys began to laugh. You were mortified, sure you’d never been this embarrassed in your entire life. The teacher was trying to quiet the class back down, while walking over to you. Getting sick hadn’t made you feel better, either. You felt just as icky, and even more embarrassed. The assistant teacher led you out of the classroom, your gaze fixed intently on your feet as you were sure everyone was staring at you.

You’d resigned yourself to silence once you arrived at the nurse’s office, only answering her questions with nods or shakes of your head. If you didn’t talk, you wouldn’t embarrass yourself further. All you could think about, as the nurse called your Mamma and talked to your Pappa, was that you hadn’t done as Ingrid asked, and waited until lunch to go to the nurse. You hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed; you’d tried your best, it just hadn’t been good enough.

Finally, your Mamma answered, telling the nurse that she couldn’t come get you either, but that your sister could. You breathed a sigh of relief at that, because you knew Ingrid would be the nicest of anyone, even if she was mad that you hadn't made it till lunch.

Your sister practically ran the few blocks to the school as soon as she hung up with her mother, feeling absolutely horrible for you. She only felt worse when she made it to the school and walked into the front office, seeing you through the doorway, curled up in a chair in the nurse’s office. She couldn’t tell if you were ill or not, but you had a sickbag next to you, and you still looked very pale. Quickly, Ingrid signed you out, before she made her way over to where you were waiting for her.

And though you were too old for it, the second you saw Ingrid you were launching yourself into her arms, wrapping all of your limbs tight around her body.

“Oh, liten.” Ingrid sighed. She’d expected you to be upset when your Mamma had called to tell her what had happened, but her expectations didn’t prepare her for how completely broken you seemed. You sobbed quietly into her neck, holding on so tightly she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get you to let her go.

“I think we might have a case of nerves on our hands. She doesn’t have a fever, or any other symptoms, and her teacher said she seemed very teary all morning until she was sick.”

At the reminder of what happened, you cried harder. Ingrid shushed you gently, her hand soothingly circling your back. The nurse continued, a sympathetic expression on her face. “I tried to explain to your mother, but as soon as I said I thought it was nerves, she didn’t seem to be very worried.”

“And we should be worried?” Ingrid wondered, sounding much older and much more concerned than a 16 year old should sound. Exactly how worried the nurse had expected your mom to sound, though she’d been disappointed.

The nurse nodded. “This is more nervous than an 8 year old should be for school. I think having your sister evaluated might be a good idea. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but anxiety can be hard for a child to deal with if they don’t have the tools to do so.”

Ingrid agreed, internally, but knew it would be a challenge to get your Mamma on board with it. When it came to you, Mamma always seemed to be doubtful of the truth of any issue you might have. If it had been Ingrid, the older girl knew she’d have had the first available appointment with the best psychologist in town. But because it was you, and Mamma seemed to have so much less patience with you, Ingrid knew it would be a challenge to convince her there was a real issue here.

“Ing?” You whispered, still attached firmly to your sister. She hummed in response, leaving a kiss on your temple. “I wanna go home.”

“Let’s go home, Solstråle.” Ingrid agreed, moving as if to release you and stand up. You were having none of that, though, and Ingrid smiled despite herself, lifting your small body easily into her arms. You couldn’t bring yourself to care if your classmates saw you, if your teachers saw you, being carried by your sister out of the school building.

Although school was only a few minutes walk away from home, you could feel the icky feeling coming back as you got closer and closer. Your Mamma was going to be so mad at you for not making it through the whole day, you just knew it. She was going to be mad, and yell, and Pappa was still going to be mad about when you spilled on him, and he was going to yell too, and home didn’t feel like the place you wanted to go anymore, though you’d been wishing for it all morning.

You knew it was going to happen again, this time trying to give your sister some warning.

“Ingrid,” you whined, trying to breathe deeply in through your nose and out through your mouth, coming to a complete stop on the sidewalk only a block away from home. “Feel sick.”

Your sister looked down at you in alarm, your face alarmingly pale as your lips pressed together tightly.

As quickly as she could, Ingrid grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards the grass.

You retched onto the ground, though there wasn’t much to come up other than bile that burned at your throat. You were crying again as Ingrid rubbed your back, handing you your water bottle when you were done. “Sorry.” You managed in between small sips, feeling guilty for probably embarrassing your sister by throwing up on the street.

“Don’t say sorry.” Ingrd frowned. “Maybe you are sick, huh?” She brought her hand up to your forehead, not finding it any warmer than normal. You shrugged, not sure how to convey your fears. Ingrid seemed to pick up on your unease, though. “Are you still nervous?”

You gave a small nod, slumping into your sister when she stood and pulled you in for a hug.

“Why? We’re going home.”

“Mamma and Pappa are going to be mad. About school and about spilling the water and for interrupting their meetings when the nurse called, and making you come get me and-”

“Slow down, slow down.” Ingrid told you calmly, crouching down once again on the sidewalk, uncaring that several people had had to cross the street to avoid your traffic jam. “No one’s mad, Solstråle, you didn’t do anything wrong. Mamma’s coming home from the meeting early to check on you, she just wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“She’s not mad?”

“No.” Ingrid promised. “We’re gonna go home, get comfy on the couch, watch a movie, and wait for Mamma. And then we’ll figure out how to make you feel better, okay?”

You liked that. The ‘we’ Ingrid used. Sometimes it felt like you could do anything if she was with you. Privately, you hoped that you’d never have to do much without her. Ingrid was your very best friend, and best friends were supposed to stay together.

She was with you when you walked home, did exactly as she promised and got all bundled up with you on the sofa and put on your favorite movie. She was with you when your Mamma came home, who fussed over you right away, only scolding you lightly for working yourself up so much that you were sick.

It felt nice to be cared for by your Mamma, even if she seemed a little exasperated with you. Really, when was she not? After that comment, though, Ingrid decided to wait to talk to your parents until you were in bed. She was more sure than ever that getting you the help you needed would take a lot of convincing, and she didn't want you to have to hear her argue with your parents on your behalf.

The raised voices coming from downstairs woke you, however, only a short time after you’d been put to bed. Intrigued, you’d followed the voices, freezing when you overheard your name.

Sat on the top step of the stairs, you listened as Ingrid talked to your parents. Your head was swirling with contradicting and confusing emotions. On one hand, it felt good to hear Ingrid stand up for you. On the other, though, it felt like a punch to the gut everytime one of your parents said something that completely dismissed the issues you were having.

“She is just nervous, Ingrid, don’t stress about it. All kids get like this, she’ll be alright.” Your mother sighed, annoyed with having to repeat herself; Ingrid just wouldn’t let up.

“No Mamma. It is not normal! You didn’t see her last night when she came to me having a panic attack, and you didn’t see her today when I went to get her from school. She needs help, this isn’t fair on her. She shouldn’t have to struggle with this.”

“Ingrid, there is nothing wrong with your sister. She just likes the attention.” Your father cut in, repeating something he’d heard his wife say over and over whenever you got into arguments with her, and ran off to him in tears.

At the same time that tears began to well in your eyes, Ingrid snapped, her voice raising. “Quit saying that! It’s not true. She’s shy, she doesn’t like attention, and she certainly didn’t want the attention of her classmates while she was getting sick in front of them. Mamma, please. She needs help.”

You could imagine your parents exchanging looks with each other, a silent conversation being had.

“Alright. We’ll take her to see someone, if only so you stop stressing yourself out about this. I don’t want you to worry about your sister, Ingrid. She’s fine, we’ve got her. You need to focus on football.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. She’d never put football over you, never. It was her passion, her favorite thing, and while it messed with her social life and made things complicated, she would never let it tear her from you. Not when you needed her.

“I will stop worrying when a doctor tells you that there is no problem.”

“We’ll take her, Ingrid, I promise. Everything will be fine, your sister will be fine. If she needs help, we’ll get it for her.”

You wondered if they were doing it for you, or if they were doing it for Ingrid. Like everything, like always, it was probably just for Ingrid. You were used to that; being less important than your sister. And as much as you wanted to be angry with your sister, you just couldn’t. Not when she was the only one who did things for you.

Once, Ingrid had promised that she’d always be on your side. So, while you weren’t sure your parents would ever be on your side, or if they ever had been, you knew you could count on Ingrid. No matter where she went, no matter what you did, Ingrid would always have your back. She’d promised, after all.

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it's been a while! hope everyone hasn't minded the long wait, and enjoyed this sol installment 🫶🏻 she really is my favorite to write for.

[tell me if you see typos okay byeeee]

#🍓☀️#ingrid engen x platonic reader #ingrid engen x reader #engen!reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics

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