Insomnia
It was time. Jack Frost lingered in the doorway, looking on mournfully as the tiny red-clad elves and silent mustached yetis filed into the room, carrying candles like strange sentinels. Once they arrived at the mosaic pattern of the now-deceased Sandman on the floor, they bent over and placed the candles in a neat circle around the dough-shaped, glimmering design. As soon as they set down the lights, they stood to the side and joined the circle of Toothiana, North, and Bunnymund, who were holding hands and solemnly staring down at the flickering candles.
Jack simply watched them, the golden light illuminating his youthful face and making him appear ancient and somber. He yearned to join the funeral ceremony, yet something inside him kept him tethered to the spot. He had no right to mourn for Sandy when he'd barely known him for a day.
Who was he to Sandy and the others but a mysterious stranger bringing a faint beacon of hope to their circle of wonder? It didn't seem right somehow for him to interfere and pretend to grieve for a legend whose name he'd rarely spoken. Besides, it was his fault that Sandy had been killed by Pitch in the first place. If only he'd flown a little faster and had taken out Pitch just a moment sooner-
Jack felt something wet rising in his throat and gulped, willing himself to keep the tears down. The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of the other Guardians, especially after the spectacular display he'd given defeating Pitch.
No, he couldn't show vulnerability if he wanted to be respected and admired by them. He needed to be strong in the face of such an overwhelming loss, no matter how hard it was. He had to stand by dutifully while the others mourned their fallen friend. Even if Sandy had only been a second in the timeline of his life, he didn't want to seem like he didn't care by leaving the Guardians alone in such a difficult time.
One by one, memories of the golden dream-giving Guardian began to flit through Jack's mind like a succession of butterflies. The day they'd first met in North's lair and North had had to slap Sandy awake to even get him to pay attention. The maniac sleigh ride to Tooth's warren, when Sandy had thrown his hands in the air like an excited child on a rollercoaster. The frantic dash to collect the children's teeth in Asia and replacing them with a hodgepodge of improvised gifts. Sandy's scramble to knock out Jamie and Abby with the dream dust, resulting in his dream sand hitting the other Guardians and giving them the most amusing dreams Jack had ever had the pleasure to see. Their final battle together against Pitch, the Nightmare King.
So little time, and yet Sandy had had such a deep impact on Jack that he couldn't even begin to describe the ache that filled his bleeding soul. It was as if he'd known Sandy for decades, even though they'd only spent a little over twenty-four hours together.
Once again, Jack felt the tears building up in his throat. He willed himself to keep them down, the thought of breaking down in front of the other Guardians looming like an unbearable specter in his mind. Unconsciously, he pulled up his hood to cover his face, as though he knew deep down inside that he wouldn't be able to keep the tears at bay.
This instinctual predication came true only seconds later. Jack Frost, the cheeky master of all things icy and cold, the only hope of the four legendary Guardians, was crying like a newborn child over the death of a Guardian he had only known for a flash in the eternal thread of his life, and the blame for his death lay on Jack's own frosted shoulders.
It wasn't long before Jack's weeping was spotted by one of the other Guardians. "Are you all right, Jack?" North asked, laying a concerned hand on Jack's shoulder.
Jack jumped into the air and almost turned three-hundred-sixty degrees, totally startled by North's unexpected entrance. "I-I'm fine! Nothing's wrong with me!" Jack snapped, his voice sharp as icicles.
He immediately regretted what he'd said when he saw the shock on North's ruddy, bearded face. Fighting to control the flow of tears gushing down his face like a tidal wave, he managed to choke out a few words. "I-I'm sorry-it's j-just…"
North cut him off before he could continue. "It's all right, Jack. Perhaps you can sit on roof while we remember Sandy if is too much for you," North suggested kindly.
For a moment, Jack hesitated. He really didn't want to leave the Guardians alone while he sat by his lonesome on the roof, drowned in his own misery. He didn't want to seem rude by leaving behind a void with his absence at the funeral. He started to shake his head and took a step towards the circle, but as he approached, an overwhelming sense of sorrow overtook him, and the tears streamed down his face more fiercely than ever.
North gently steered Jack towards the window and walked him over, standing over him like a fatherly figure. "Do not feel badly, Jack. Sandy would understand that you are too upset to stay at funeral," North comforted him.
Jack nodded reluctantly and pushed back his hood. "T-thanks, North. I-I just can't….I mean, Sandy…." Jack sobbed. He quickly shoved his hood up again, embarrassed to be blubbering in front of the man who called himself Santa Claus. What must North be thinking of him? North was so strong, so sure. He'd never cry like a lost child like Jack was right now. Jack could feel the heat on his neck spreading to his cheeks and forehead at the mere thought. He quickly looked to North for reassurance, hoping that North didn't think him too much of a fool.
North gave him a silently reassuring look back, giving Jack an understanding wink. Jack's face suddenly felt as though it would spontaneously combust at any moment, but he gave North a weak grin in returned and flung open the window, which let out a creak. Climbing onto the windowsill and gaining a sense of balance, Jack leapt off the windowsill and soared into the chilly night air.
It didn't take him too long to reach the rooftop. The snow covering the roof sparkled in the dim light of the moon like a thousand fairy lights. The wind whispered softly, tugging softly at Jack's shaggy white hair and dark-blue hoodie.
From his vantage point on the rooftop, Jack could see the breathtaking panorama of the snow and ice of the North Pole stretching out for what seemed like endless miles as far as his eyes could see. The moon loomed like a mysterious god's face in the sky, indecipherable and distant as ever. If not for the fact that a Guardian's death was being mourned in the house below, it would have been a perfectly beautiful night.
Without anyone to see him, Jack allowed his emotions to manifest themselves fully. He didn't even try to stop the flood of tears that continued to stream down his cheeks as he let out a miserable, heartbroken wail to the sky like a lonely wolf. A whirling snowstorm of emotions thundered inside of him as relentlessly as a waterfall-rage, grief, pain, anguish, angst, uncertainty, sorrow, regret, fear, and hopelessness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this, except for perhaps a time when a mortal girl he'd loved dearly had passed away. That was decades ago, though, and he'd never been so attached to any other living being since then.
He hadn't known Sandy for years, like he'd known the girl, but something about the little man had planted a seed of affection so deeply into his heart that he knew he'd never be able to detach it.
Even though it had ceased to grow, what little remained of its blossoming buds and leaves would still remain inside him, giving him shattered bits of light and comfort. It wasn't enough to calm his agony, but knowing that he still had a bit of Sandy left in him did help his tears to gradually subside from a torrent to an ebb, then from a mere trickle to an evaporated remnant of his past pain.
Jack took a shaky deep breath, letting the pain of Sandy's death exit him through his chilly exhale. Looking up at the moon, Jack wondered where Sandy was now. Was there such thing as a heaven or a hell for Guardians? Or did they enter another life, unseen by mortals like he and the surviving Guardians?
He wished he knew, so he could see Sandy and take comfort in the fact that he was still somewhere out there, giving good dreams to children in a distant world. Jack knew that it was foolish to hope for such a thing, but hope was all that he had left against the crushing despair that gripped him like the unrelenting hands of Death.
Out of the blue, a thought hit Jack like an unexpected slap in the face. Was it truly his fault that Sandy had died? Sure, if he'd flown a little bit faster, he could've gotten there in time to prevent Pitch from hitting the wise little Sandman with his dark arrow of nightmare sand, but then again, the other Guardians hadn't exactly been in peak condition either after being unintentionally knocked out by Sandy's dream sand, and the beginning of the loss of belief from many children around the world certainly hadn't helped them.
Could Jack really blame himself for what had happened when so many things could've been the cause of why they didn't get to Sandy in time? Jack still wasn't sure, but now that his brain was working clearly after his emotions had settled somewhat, he was beginning to see things in a new light and work them through. His thoughts and feelings still felt like silt stirred up in a pool, obscuring things as more of them surfaced, but things seemed clearer now that he was more level-headed than he was before Sandy's funeral.
But wait….it wasn't all bad. That power I had when I was fighting Pitch…Goosebumps ran up and down Jack's pale arms at the thought, and he gave a little shiver of excitement, rubbing his arms to keep them warm. In all his time as a winter spirit, he'd never experienced a surge of magic as powerful as that. It was thrilling and astounding to know that deep down inside, he had a secret power that nobody, not even he, knew he'd had before.
He really had no idea how he'd unleashed it-all he'd known was that Sandy's death had enraged him to the core, and he'd wanted to get back at Pitch for it more than anything. One moment, he'd been burning with fury and grief, and in the next, he was releasing a stunning blast of sheer icy magic that rippled through the air like a blizzard.
As Jack was reveling in the discovery of his hidden well of power, another thought crossed his mind: He'd have to be careful as to how he used this power in the future. He'd used up so much energy while unleashing that icy wave on Pitch that he'd knocked himself out for a few seconds. If a blast of that size could make him feel so tired, who knew what toll an even larger blast could take on him? After Sandy's funeral, I should practice using my powers if I have any time. I need to know what my limits are and how much I can release before it drains too much of my energy, Jack thought to himself.
Jack fluttered down from the roof and peeked in through the window. He could see the other Guardians standing in a circle, their heads bowed solemnly. The elves' bells created a melancholy melody in the air, and the yetis struggled to keep tears from dripping into their luxuriant mustaches.
Tiptoeing so as not to be heard, Jack sat down on the windowsill and observed the mourning ritual without a sound. He didn't feel well enough to join the Guardians in their circle yet, but he didn't want to completely miss Sandy's funeral either. At least this way, he wouldn't feel entirely guilty about not being there to honor Sandy's memory.
After the last peal of bells had faded away and the light of the candles had completely burned out, the rest of the Guardians murmured a few last words of condolence to each other before splitting up to go to bed. North looked at Jack quizzically, but Jack just smiled sadly and shook his head. As much as he would have liked to get a little rest, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to get a wink of sleep tonight. There were too many thoughts buzzing around his head to allow him to settle down. He needed his questions answered, but he'd just have to wait until morning came to sort things out.
North shrugged and nodded before he left. As he walked out, he made the smallest of motions with his hand and gestured to the guest bedrooms, then to himself and Jack. Jack knew exactly what North meant: If you change your mind tonight, I'm here for you. Jack shook his head again, but he appreciated North's concern and knew that North would understand. There were just some things that couldn't be solved by a good night's sleep, and everything that had cropped up since Sandy's death definitely qualified.
Still, Jack basked in the glow of knowing that there was someone looking out for him. He may not have had a family, but there was one person out there who was willing to help him if something was on his mind. There were still plenty of problems for Jack to face-his invisibility to everyone except the Guardians and Pitch; figuring out his purpose in life; dealing with the aftermath of Pitch's attacks so far-but now Jack wouldn't have to deal with them alone anymore. And to Jack, that was far more comforting than any sleep could have been.
A small beam of moonlight shone down on the silver-haired waif. It seemed that even the Man in the Moon had taken some time to comfort Jack. Grateful for the support, Jack whispered, "Thank you," and turned to face the MiM. The moonbeam increased in brightness, as though to tell Jack that it accepted his thanks. Jack's heart gave a little jump in his chest as he continued to bask in the moonlight, hoping that the MiM's support meant a turning point for the Guardians. Maybe, just maybe, something wonderful was about to happen. Their battles might still be difficult, but Jack had hope for Pitch's defeat, which had previously seemed to be impossible.
But for now, Jack was happy to ponder what the future might hold for him and the Guardians. Before, he'd woken up each morning fearing what would happen to him. He'd known that this day would be yet another repeat of the loneliness and misery he'd had to suffer for decades. Now, though, he looked forward to the next morning, despite the ache in his heart. With the support of the Guardians and this new auspicious sign from the MiM, he knew that his life just might change for the better.