He had too much free time. How many times had he thought that while in this exact same position? Easter only came once a year and didn't take quite as long to prepare for as Christmas did. And E. Aster Bunnymund had too much free time. He knew that much. What he didn't know was why he was drawn to this house when he had too much free time. Why this one certain house? He thought that maybe it had to do with that boy. The first child born to that house. That boy with the eyes as deep as the chocolate Bunnymund gave him on Easter.
Maybe he was the reason he was drawn to that house, watching it through the years. The boy continued growing and soon there was a little girl in the picture. She was almost the spitting image of the older male. Maybe that was why he was drawn to the girl in the house, sitting by the window at night, listening to the tales the boy wove, sometimes about the pooka's friends...sometimes about the pooka himself. And maybe those tales were the reason he followed that boy, watching the antics he played. The way he lied so easily.
It was that fact that made Bunnymund the saddest. The boy's sister began thinking the tales were false, that all the Guardians were false. But Bunnymund knew all too well how much the boy believed. He saw those eyes, filled with innocence and wonder. He believed in the Guardians. Maybe that was why Bunnymund's heart broke that day. That horrible, painful winter day.
He had heard the conversation. Every word. Maybe he should have gone when he first heard the ice cracking. Hindsight had always been his enemy. But when the boy got the little girl out of the danger zone, the pooka relaxed, thinking the worst was over. But there was more cracking, followed by screams. He glanced up. The girl was safe, but the boy...was gone. He raced to the edge of the lake. Maybe...if he had gotten there sooner...The girl's cries and screams grew distant in his ears as he stared up at the sky, asking why it had happened, why it had to happen to that boy. He didn't understand.
It took a while, but he finally got his answer. He got it when he stared into those ice blue eyes. He was torn. Did he try to protect the boy this time? Try to redeem himself? No...if he stayed away...he wouldn't get hurt this time. Not again. He gave in to that side, running away, trying to push him away. But when he saw who the Man in the Moon chose to be the new guardian, his heart stopped. It was that boy.
No.
This wasn't right.
The boy would be put into the line of danger.
Why? Why this boy? Maybe this time Bunnymund could protect him. Maybe this time the pooka would prove himself to be worthy of the title of Guardian. But he soon realized that it wouldn't work like that. It was like he was fated to fail in this thing he had promised himself. And maybe he was.
Maybe he was fated to watch that boy get hurt, to hurt that boy again and again.
But he'd be damned if he wouldn't try to change fate.
He'd be damned if Jack Frost died again under his watch.