Sorry, while it is marked Jack/Tooth it is strictly friendship and theres really nothing in here pertaining to the ship itself! I hope you enjoy it anyways though! This is entirely my own writing/invention. Except of course I do not own this lovely series/movie.

The young Winter spirit crouches by the tombstone in front of him, looking intently over every curve. He traces his fingers gently over the engraved letters, not paying any mind to the cold radiating from the stone. He is the one who put it there after all. He pulls away quickly when he accidentally freezes it over even more. Maybe he should just look. His mouth mimes the words he reads on the front of the grave.

Jacob
Giles
Frost

The date is covered by lichen and he's worried if he touches anything again it might break, shatter into a thousand pieces and be lost to him after all this time. He doesn't recognize the name, not from his own memory at least. An image does flash briefly through his mind; a strong, broad shouldered man with a mess of dark curls over his face. He has the distinct feeling, though, that it was mostly influenced by all his time around North. He couldn't really remember his father, could he? He sighs lightly and straightens to walk to the next grave just a few steps to his left. The more he moves, the quicker his heart beats. He reads the next grave in his head.

Constance
Harmony
Frost

Another name he can't quite put a face to. He can remember a voice, however. Light, motherly, concerned. It reminds him a lot of Tooth. Which is exactly how he got here in the first place. Now he could practically feel his heart pounding in his head. Mixing with the soft crunching of gravel and snow under him. He knows the next grave can only be one of two. He feels like he shouldn't be this nervous, because these people are as good as strangers to him right now. Except they aren't, and it becomes obvious when he reaches the next grave and his chest tightens painfully as he reads the words, occasionally muttering bits and syllables of it.

Anna
Emmaline
Frost

Its both a relief and a pain to finally be able to recall this name, however vaguely. He can see her face, as if it were yesterday. He wants better memories of her, something more fond. Some where her sweet face isn't tinged with fear and desperation. He wants to be able to remember a time he hadn't left her on her own. How did she feel, watching him sink under the surface of the water, unable to save himself as he'd saved her? Had she been upset at him for leaving her all alone? Were they close? Was he all she had? He'd attempted to answer these questions on his own, several times. Not once succeeding. He shakes his head and tears his eyes off the grave, forcing himself to move on. Now he's just nervous, because he knows what he's going to face. His hand grips his staff tighter as his steps seem to echo, despite the wide open space. He reads this one aloud this time, as if the words themselves will ground him to the earth when his entire being feels like it will float off and never come back.

Jackson
Overland
Frost

Its nearly too surreal to be true, even though he, of all people, knows that he's dead. He saw it happen, sometimes at night when he's particularly restless, he can still see it happen. Until he's bathed in a soft gold glow and his thoughts slowly wash into more pleasant dreams. He can feel it happen too, when he's near the water and he feels a little lightheaded and he can almost swear he's fighting for his life. Then he remembers to breath, not that it will kill him if he doesn't, but it's uncomfortable not to. Still, seeing his own name, undoubtedly and undeniably his, written on a gravestone when he himself is standing right there... For one short stupid moment he wonders if he digs down, would he find any of the bodies? Then he shakes it off. He watched them put up every single gravestone in this cemetery, which had started as more of a memorial burial ground. Some families with rich roots and respectable lineage in the town had instigated the project. Naturally they never knew where the bodies had actually been buried (and they weren't about to go digging around for them), but they had decided to erect some monumental gravestones for some of the more prominent families of the town. The founders, the priest's family, the law makers. He had no idea his own family would be among those, though. After a short while, people also contributed their own dead to the cemetery, and the special graves were swallowed by the masses.

He steps back a bit before planting himself down at the foot of all the graves. He lays his staff carefully on his lap, just looking at them, head resting thoughtfully on his palm. It almost feels wrong, to sit here with them, to be thinking so hard about them. Like they might not remember him, just because he can't quite remember them. Not for lack of trying of course, and that he remembers clearly.

Sorry this chapter is so short. Just because the second one is SO long. Also I put a ridiculous amount of effort into trying to find names for them that fit the era. While simultaneously avoiding the Pippa/Emma Frost fanon and finding a name for the dad that can in fact be shortened to Jack. (So the name Jackson would be quite literal as it often was way back when). Anyways please continue!