It's been a long time since I've been back on my account. So the story... The first chapter is based on theme #39.

Jack is a homeless kid who gets himself into trouble one night and the events of that night change his life forever. You're just going to have to read it. please comment and enjoy. If you didn't enjoy, then this isn't a fanfic for you.

Alone

He still remembers that night. The night that changed his life. It was a dark cold night, but he wasn't scared. Okay, maybe he was a little scared. Still, he could take care of himself. He's had to for as long as he could remember. To him, that was a long time. He couldn't once remember a time when he had a parental figure look after him and guide him through life's hardships. So he just had to learn to do things on his own.

His name was Jack Frost. How did he know this? He didn't really. Well, his earliest memory, that he could remember, was an audiable name. "Jack…" So he believed it to be his. He highly doubted that his last name was Frost, though. He got that name because of the kids he liked to help out; one kid in particular.

Jack's only real possession was some high-tech shepherd's crook. It only activated through his touch and had some strange ability to freeze liquids and shoot ice. The most he could figure was that it was his mom's or dad's; or uncle's if he had one. Still, he took it with him where ever he went.

Jack shivered in the cold wind that blew through the alley that leads to the business district. He only had a blue hoody over a long sleeve shirt; both thin. Just like the brown skinny jeans he wore. He was slowly losing feeling in his toes because he had no socks under his beaten sneakers. He had gloves that he had found. They were already missing a few fingers, so he took the rest off. Besides, finger gloves would only break the connection to his staff.

Jack finally got to the business district. He didn't often come here due to his kind, the broke, dirty, poorly dressed, and homeless kind; being unwelcomed, but he needed some money and who better to steal it from than wealthy stuck up snobby people who wouldn't give a nickel to a hunger person in need. Truth is he wasn't stealing for himself, but to buy some winter clothing from thrift stores to give to families. The thrift stores were the one place he didn't steal from.

He hide in the shadows for a bit till the walkway was clear. He then stretched his staff out and tapped the ground with it. Frost instantly formed and spread. It spread to the sidewalk. He waited a bit, then repeated it. Two more taps later, the frost built up into a decent sheet of ice. Smooth. Slippery.

He wasn't sure how it was able to do that and other strange things. He didn't particularly care, however. It was a handy tool to have and he didn't want to risk having it never work again because he took it apart. Or worse, having it work uncontrollably.

Jack waited for someone to come along. Someone did and as expected, they slipped and slid over the ice that they didn't see. Jack was unlucky to have this one keep his footing. As the lucky businessman swore at the ice, Jack silently swore himself. Guess I'll just have to keep waiting.

He waited. In the shadows.

In the cold dark night.

Shivering and starving.

He was about to give up for now and go looking for some scrapes. Maybe sneak into a restaurant's kitchen and get away with some freshly cooked food. Then he heard someone yelp. His first target tonight. A middle aged man nearly decked in black (suit, tie, shoes, and coat) was now on the ground; half on the sidewalk, half in the alley.

Jack left his staff behind as he went to "help" the gentleman. "Excuse me, sir. Are you alright?" The man looked up at the boy who held out his hand.

He found him to be quiet odd since he looked like a teenager, but with shocking white hair. Not to mention blue eyes to go with it.

Ignoring the hand, he got up on his own. "Yes, I'm fine." He said brushing himself off. "Just slipped. Where's my phone?" he looked around for it.

"There!" Jack pointed to the device that landed not too far away and still in good condition. The man went over to pick it up. This was his chance. If he could just pick his coat pocket before he turned around. There was a big enough of a bulge to tell that it had to be a wallet.

Jack reached out. The man still hadn't gotten up.

He was just inches away. So close.

He held his breath as he was about to dip his fingers into the pocket.

SNATCH. "Got'cha!"

Some scary looking guy came up from behind Jack and grabbed him by the wrist. He had a sick green Mohawk and piercings on his ears, nose, and lips. Jack never did like those kinds of piercings and it was creepier up close, but he had other things to worry about.

To his surprise, the man he was just trying to pick pocket was… calm. He just stood up and put his phone into his coat pocket. "What should I do with him, Mr. Black?"

Oh, crap. The man, Mr. Black, turned around, giving Jack an aura of creepiness even though he wasn't as creepy looking as this other guy. What more, Jack was legibly scared. "That is a good question?"

"Would you like us to take care of him, Master?" Another guy joined them. This one big, buffed with muscles, and had a few scars on his exposed arms. How was he not cold?

Jack was scared and couldn't tell if he was shaking from fear or from the cold. He thought he was frozen in place and if he was, he had no idea how he was able to yank his wrist free and start running. Running past Mr. Black, grabbing his staff and just running.

"He's getting away!"

"Do you want us to go after him, master?"

"Catch him and bring him to me, but don't beat him up… too much." With that, Mr. Black walked off, getting back to whatever business he had before. His two thugs went after Jack.

This is just what he needed. To be cold, hungry, and now scared. It couldn't… "There he is!" Oh, great! It could get worse. Now he was cold, hungry, and scared for his life. He had to loss these guys.

He swung his staff at a stacked pile of discarded boxes, knocking them over. He did the same with some trash filled garbage cans. He looked over his shoulder just long enough to see one jump over like it was nothing and the other plow right through.

The came to a sharp turn that lead out to a street. As Jack skid to make the turn, he made a patch of ice. Hopefully that will stop them. Or at least slow them down. The Mohawk guy did a jump over it, onto the wall, and jumping off, doing a roll on the landing. The other guy just went into the wall, but quickly recovered from it. Well that kinda worked.

They continued to chase after Jack as they exited the alleyway and on to a slightly busy street. Not busy enough. They would spot him from time to time as he would find himself in exposed areas. This just wasn't his day.

After weaving into another crowd, Jack duck into another alleyway. That was a bad idea because it quickly turned into a dead end. "He went this way!"

I am so dead. Without a moment's hesitation, Jack took the only possible exit and started climbing the fire escape. He was up on about the third level by the time those thugs caught up.

"He's getting away," complained the big guy. "Not for long. Go to Dark Knock Alley, I'll lead him there."

After Jack made it to the roof, he turned around to see Mohawk guy climbing after him, much faster than it took him. This guy just doesn't quiet. Jack was starting to get tired but knew if he stopped now it may be the end of him.

When the thug had finished climbing to the roof, Jack had jumped onto a slightly high and slopped roof. He got onto the roof just in time to see him reach the top and disappear onto the other side. He followed after him, ready to grab his gun when needed. He wasn't going to shot the kid. Just barely miss him when he was about to head in the wrong attended direction.

As they leapt from building to building, they didn't notice, not that they cared at the moment, the drop in temperature. Normally Jack would seek for the nearest abandoned place and do his best to create a small fire or find enough junk to pile and keep him warm. Temperatures like this meant snow; which he admired the beauty, but hated the discomfort it brought. Of course, he had other things to worry about.

He climbed to a higher roof flat. The thug still trailing him felt lucky. The kid had been pretty much going the right way the whole time. He may not need the gun.

When Jack made it to the top, he kept going, leaping down to a slightly lower flat. He thought he could keep going, but stopped inches from running over the edge. The next roof in front of him was too far to jump.

"You want to call this the end and come with us? Promise we won't hurt you." That last part didn't sound too trustworthy.

There was another roof to his right that he could jump to. What he didn't know was that it would lead him in the direction of Dark Knock alley, where the other guy would be. He had to think fast. Jack doesn't do well under pressure, so even if he does come up with an idea, it usual goes better in his head. So his choices were either the roof to his right or risk the jump behind him.

"Come on, kid. I don't have all night." The guy pulled out his gun; not intending to shot him, but how was Jack suppose to know? It was then Jack decided to take the roof to the right. Then he changed his mind. Normally, most wouldn't chance this and go the safest way, but Jack wasn't most normal people. (His appearance was one way of proving that.) Whereas the Mohawk guy thought he was going right, Jack surprised him when he did a last minute turn.

At the last minute, Jack had noticed a fire escape on the far away building. It was a long shot…

Jack leapt over the street below. Over what seemed and should be an injumpable gap between the two buildings; hoping that the fire escape was reachable, he jumped.

The thug stood there in disbelief, thinking the kid had a death wish. "Noo!" It was already too late to stop him.

For the moment of that one jump, time seemed to slow down. In all honesty, Jack didn't think he was going to make it. Then time speed up the moment Jack's hand grasped the handle bar. He slammed into the railing and it did hurt, but he held on and didn't care for the pain that much.

Jack let out the breath he held during his jump and began climbing. When he reached the roof, he only stopped to look back. The Mohawk guy stood there, shocked, then furious. He didn't care whether or not because he was already in trouble with letting him get away and he didn't like it when he was in trouble with his boss.

Jack turned back around and was leaving (to anywhere but there) when he felt a sudden sharp pain vibrate through his right arm. He did something between a scream and a yelp. The pain was so sudden that he dropped his staff. His reflexes made him grip his arm, but that seemed to make it hurt more. Jack looked to see that his sleeve was beginning to turn red. That wasn't good.

There might have been no point, but jack turned back to see the Mohawk guy had his gun raised and he could just see smoke or steam coming from the mouth of it. Jack booked it out of there as quickly as he could; picking up his staff and running. Shots were still fired at him, but luckly they missed. In the distance, he could hear something like, "YOU'RE DEAD!" Just what he needed to haunt his dreams for a while. He didn't really care. His mind was sort of in shock from the first shot.

Jack had made it a fair distance on the roofs and manged to find a place to climb down; carefully.

In all the day hadn't gone at all in his favor. First he gets caught pick pocketing, then chased through alleys and to the roofs. Does the biggest jump of is life and in the end gets shot in the arm. Now it was snowing and he still hadn't found a fairly safe place.

His arm hurt, but the cold had numbed it out; as well as his fingers, toes, and nose. He would glance at his sleeve now and then to see the blood loss progressing. It was half blue, half red. He had no idea how much blood he could loss before it kill him, but he was starting to feel light headed.

Jack had no idea where he was going. He wasn't even sure he was somewhere he knew well. The cold and blood lost made it hard to think right. He didn't register it till a minute later, but there was an open door in the alley way he was in. light poured from it and he could hear voices.

Then a big man came out. He had a black sack over his shoulder that he dropped into a dumpster. Considering the circumstances he was in, he would have taken help from (mostly) anyone.

"H-hel-lp-p…" he was freezing and tired.

It would have appeared that the large man heard him.

"P-p-pleassse. Hel-l-lp."

Jack felt like he was going to pass out at any moment. The man came running towards him. He looked shock to see someone like him have an entire arm covered in blood. So much had been lost that now his brain didn't care what sounds it heard. All he knew was that he was being lead inside.

This was a long one to type. The next one maybe just as long, but I will make it sound good.