A/N: Hello, everybody! I have returned!
*crickets chirping*
...Your enthusiasm touches me -_-
I kid, I kid.
Anyway, have another one-shot from your friendly neighborhood authoress. This is just a little idea I've been exploring lately: what about the kids who don't deserve to be put on the Naughty List, but are anyway?
No, seriously, listen. Some kids are nasty, m'kay? Some are petty. Some are rude. Some are downright unbearable. I'm not saying all, but some are. But have we ever looked into why some kids are that way?
Some kids are that way because they're spoiled, fine. But others, no. Others are that way because they were hurt. Others are that way because they're fed up. Others are that way because no one ever understands.
And these children, in a time when they're hurt and need support, are simply put on North's Naughty List and forgotten about.
This disturbs me.
So then I thought, if North won't help them, who would? And then I thought...why not the child at the head of the Naughty List? Why not Jack Frost?
*band plays "See The Conquering Hero Comes"*
So that's it. Here we go. I may write a continuation later, not sure, depends on whether people like it. But for now you get this.
Also, North is an idiot.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OC Cecily. Everything else belongs to Dreamworks and William Joyce. Also, the cover image is an illustration done by Gustave Dore for the fable "Le Chat Botte", and as such is in the public domain.
Brother Jack!
BrotherJackBrotherJackBrotherJack!
Jack wouldn't have been able to pinpoint just when it all started.
Actually, scratch that. He would. It had started with that little brown-haired girl from that village, Burgess. That was beside the point, however.
With a hop, a skip, and a jump, the winter teen easily leapt between buildings, finally stopping at the seventh floor of an apartment complex. The location was New York City, which even at midnight was filled with light. Personally, Jack preferred Burgess, where "light's-out" was no later than eleven, but to each his own, he supposed.
Realizing that he was at the wrong window, the teen effortlessly jumped three windows to the left, finally stopping at a room with sky-blue wallpaper. The lights inside were off, but this did not deter Jack as he swiftly froze the lock, pried open the window, and hopped inside. This simple act of breaking and entering was evidently one he had committed many times before.
Landing lightly on the carpeted floor, the winter spirit closed the now-ruined window, before turning back to attempt to find who he was looking for. "Cecily?"
Silence.
"Cecily?"
Briefly, he worried that the child might not be able to see or hear him (it happened sometimes with new arrivals, he wasn't exactly a widespread legend, after all). A small sniffling sound from the bed, however, was quick to alleviate his fears. Grinning jauntily, the spirit gently sat down on the side of the bed.
"Ceeecilyyy…"
The occupant of the bed, a black-haired girl around twelve years old, sniffled again. "Go away."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, little lady. You called me, so now I'm going to help you whether you like it or not."
Another sniffle. "It was a mistake. There's nothing wrong."
"Doesn't look like that to me."
"Zark off."
Jack blinked, having never heard this particular phrase before, but he decided to roll with it. "I'll 'zark off' as soon as you tell me what's wrong."
A brief silence followed, interspersed with more and more frequent sniffles, before the girl finally began to leave her makeshift cocoon of blankets in favor of sitting on the side of the bed, beside Jack.
Jack stared silently, waiting for her to continue.
The girl swallowed nervously, before suddenly turning a defiant gaze on Jack. "Look, Mister..."
"Jack. Just Jack is fine."
"...Fine then. Look, Mister Jack, I appreciate you coming from...wherever you came from in order to talk to me, but there's really nothing wrong, so please leave."
"Cecily, if I had a dime for every time someone has told me they're fine, when in reality they weren't, I'd be a millionaire."
Abruptly, as though the words had somehow struck her, the girl's tense form relaxed and her bright green gaze fell to the floor. More silence, but Jack waited patiently for her to begin, certain that now he could get to the root of the problem.
"...It's true, what they say about you being on the Naughty List, right?"
Not the problem, but it was close to the actual issue. "Yes, that's true."
"Why?"
Jack blinked again at the unexpected question. Man, this kid was just full of surprises. Either that, or she was trying to change the subject. Either way, he would humor her. "Well, I was never really sure, but I think it had something to do with some blizzards."
"Blizzards?"
"Again, not really sure. But yeah. Blizzards."
"...I know why I'm on the Naughty List."
Her suddenly haunted voice was concerning. It was like she was a prisoner confessing to some terrible crime, and expecting to be led to the guillotine.
"You do?"
The girl nodded, swallowing again. "...I...I pushed Jenoby Watson. Into a mud puddle."
"Well, that's not good, but-"
"Then I threw a rock at her. I knocked out two of her teeth."
"..."
"And then I screamed at her. A bit. Okay, not a bit, more like a lot. And then I threw another rock, which missed. And that's why I'm on the Naughty List."
"...Any particular reason you did that?"
"She...she said Mom left because she didn't want me and Dad died because he caught my flu and it's all my fault I have to live with my aunt who's never home because she's always at the club."
This last was delivered in a rush, words pouring from the guilty child's mouth as if she just wanted to get this over with so Jack could yell at her and leave.
She definitely wasn't expecting the ice-cold teen to hug her.
She stiffened for a few moments, before hesitantly hugging him back. Without really realizing it, she started crying on the teen's hoodie. Jack resignedly let her cry on him, before carefully letting her go so she wouldn't freeze.
"Look, Cecily...What Jenoby Watson did was bad, okay? It was mean, and petty, and stupid, and hurtful. But..."
"...But?"
"But you need to learn how to handle these things better. I'm sorry to say this, kiddo, but Jenoby isn't the last jerk you'll ever meet. Not by far. You see, many people are jerks. Many people will try to hurt you. But if you let it get to you every time, eventually you'll be spending your whole life either hitting people with rocks, or feeling guilty that you hit people with rocks. And that's not very fun, is it?"
"...No."
"Of course not. So what you need to do is you need to learn how to control yourself better, so you can have some fun sometimes in your life, understand?"
"Yes."
"Do you promise to try that? For me?"
"...Yes, I promise."
"Good. Well, I better get going now."
He rose from his seat and began to make his way to the window, only to be stopped by a small hand grabbing his sleeve.
"...Mister Jack?"
"Yes?"
"You...You will come back sometime, right? You have to."
"Well, if I have to then I guess that doesn't leave me with much of a choice, does it?"
The teen's joking tone brought a faint smile to the girl's face. "...I...guess I'll just call you when I need you, then?"
"Of course. Now go get some sleep."
The teen had already slid the window open and perched on the windowsill, before the girl spoke again, halting him. "Mister Jack..."
"Yes?"
"You're going to help me get off the Naughty List, right?"
"Naturally."
"Is there...any way...I can help you off?"
Yep. Definitely full of surprises. "...Maybe. Now go to sleep."
"Okay. Good night, Mister Jack."
"Good night, Cecily."
He waited until the girl was asleep, before he left, closing the window behind him.
Later that evening, Cecily's aunt would return to a cold apartment, a busted window, and frost on the floor and her niece's sheets, but that wasn't particularly important.
A/N: ...That was worse than I thought it would be. Ah well.
...Review?