A/N: Just an experiment. I'll continue it based on how many people are interested, but otherwise, it'll progress just as quickly as my other stories: very very slowly. Enjoy. I guess.

Do you want to build a snowman?

Come on let's go and play!

I never see you anymore.

Come out the door.

It's like you've gone away…

/XXXXX\

"His nose is wrong."

"No it's not."

"I'm telling you, it goes the other way."

Jack Frost crossed his arms. "Sophie Bennett. I've been building snowmen since this country was a colony. I think I know how to put the nose on."

Sophie pouted. Her cheeks were red from the cold, and she rubbed her arms furiously, her impatience rising off of her like steam. "I get it, you're ancient. But everybody knows the pointed tip sticks out!"

Jack rolled his eyes and turned back to survey their wonderful creation. The snowman was shaped in the image of a track runner, baton in hand and all. Every detail was perfectly etched into the snow, from the rivulets of sweat pouring down his brow to the faded tears on his jersey. The other kids had watched with unbelieving fascination as Sophie had sculpted this masterpiece single-handedly. What they didn't know was that Frost was with her every step of the way, giving her helpful tips and using his own powers whenever necessary.

Was it cheating?

Technically, yeah.

But it was fun, and for Jack, that was all that mattered.

Sophie's hand darted out and rearranged the carrot while Jack was distracted. She stepped back, crossed her arms, and smiled. "There. Much better."

"Golly!"

Mr. Dawson, the camp counselor, walked up to the snowman, his jaw dragging a trail through the snow. His owlish eyes were wide behind the rim-wired spectacles he so adored. "Ms. Bennett! What a marvelous snowman!"

Sophie shrugged, trying and failing to hide a proud smile. "It's nothing."

"Nothing? The striking pose, the immaculate detail, the delicate balance required to maintain such a state…I've never seen anything like it in all my years of Winter Fun Camp!" He violently scribbled on his clipboard. "First place! No contest!" He was still crying out adulations as he walked away.

The other kids groaned and started to destroy their own creations. Sophie basked in the heat of their laser glares. She had won.

"Gee golly whiz, Ms. Bennett," Jack said. "You couldn't have done this by yourself. It's almost as if you used magic, but no, there's no such thing as magic-"

"Thank you Jack." Sophie grinned.

"No problem. But tonight you're sledding alone, missy."

Sophie's merriment vanished. "What? But tonight's the championship game!"

Jack sighed. "I know, Sophie, but you can't win every single game. It all might go to your head."

"I haven't won every single game."

"Oh really? Let's see. Wasn't it weird that you were able to craft fifty-seven paper snowflakes in just thirty minutes?"

Sophie frowned. "Okay, but that doesn't-!"

"Or when the other team's snow fort conveniently decided to cave in on itself and leave them open for your – I'm sorry, my – snowball attack?"

"But you were-!"

"And finally, Usain Bolt here." He gestured to the snowman. "This is fun, Sophie, but there should be a limit. Your friends are getting suspicious."

Sophie turned away. "What friends?"

Jack instantly regretted his words. He opened his mouth to speak, but wisely shut it. He hated it when her blue eyes shimmered with tears. When her blond bangs spilled out of her beanie and fell over those eyes and her little frame shrank into itself and became a shell.

Things hadn't been easy when Jamie left, but he couldn't imagine what it was like for Sophie.

Jack sighed. "Fine. I'll help. But only-!"

Sophie beamed and hugged him. "Thanks!" she squeaked, and skipped away before Jack could say anything, drawing weird stares from the other kids as she did. Jack frowned. He'd been duped.

"They grow up so fast," he murmured to no one in particular.

He and Jamie had been having so much fun together that college hadn't even been an issue until that big, fat acceptance letter landed on their doorstep. Jack had been shocked; Jamie, ecstatic. After all, what aspiring artist wouldn't want to attend New York University with an art major and nearly zero cost of attendance? Jack had done all he could to convince him not to go: New York was smelly, he'd be mugged every night, artists were broke and starving, etc. But Jamie was adamant, hungry for a life outside of sleepy Burgess, and before Jack knew it, he was on a plane, New York-bound and gone from Jack's life.

He knew he should've frozen that mailman when he had the chance.

But with Jamie gone, Sophie had been eager to take his place as Jack's playmate. And to be honest, Jack didn't mind it as much as he thought he would have. Sophie was only two when Pitch Black had threatened the world with his darkness, and she'd practically grown up with the wonders of the Guardians all around her. She had just as much hopes, dreams, and wonder as Jamie, and admittedly, Jack was grateful for a change.

At first, he thought the fact that Sophie was a girl would make things a bit more awkward (Jack and Jamie had grown a little too mischievous come high school), but Sophie had proved to be every inch as cool Jamie was. So far, at least.

And Jack Frost loved that little girl to pieces.

A whistle blew, snapping Jack out of his reverie. Mr. Dawson stood on a snow mound, hands on his waist like a conquering explorer. "Alright, little artisans! Clean yourselves up, because it's time to head back to the Lodge!"

Jack watched as the kids scrambled towards the Lodge, ignoring Mr. Dawson's frantic commands and barreling into the large cottage where the Camp was based. Normally he would've been so pumped for a chance to attend something called Winter Fun Camp (and to rub it in North's face afterwards), but Jamie's departure had changed something fundamental in him. It had taken weeks for Sophie to convince him to come with her, but even then he wasn't feeling the fun in the Winter Fun Camp.

Maybe the Bennett's weren't the only ones growing up.

Whoa.

Did he really just think that?

Jack shook his head. No. The perk of his job was eternal youth. He could never get old. Otherwise he'd end up just as grumpy as the Easter Bunny. Or fat and hairy like Santa Claus.

He shuddered at the thought.

Jack launched into the air. The winter wind blew against his face, and he relished in the sweet freezing beauty of his beloved season. The treetops layered with packed snow, the earth white all around and the sun filtered through clouds pregnant with precipitation. Kids slipping and laughing atop an old frozen pond by the neighborhood. Cars moving lazily over sleet-filled streets. He glided over the town of Burgess, a wistful smile on his face.

Winter.

Sometimes he wished it were winter all-year round. No fall, spring, or summer, just the snow and the spirit of the holidays and friends sitting by the fire, sipping hot cocoa and sharing ghost stories until the break of day. Winter was a time of love. Of togetherness. Frost could not think of a better place to spend it than his own home, a picturesque small town where everyone knew each other and the air was free and the stars shone nice and bright behind a veil of misty clouds. Burgess was Jack's very heart and soul.

Loads better than New fricking York.

Enough ranting. It's all in the past, he thought.

None of it matters.

XXXXX

Three straight victories in a row.

Mr. Dawson praising her in front of all the other kids.

What could possibly go wrong after this?

Sophie heard the other girls before she saw them. Their giggles were loud and obnoxious, and she was so used to the routine that she began to not mind them as much as she did in the past.

"Hey freak."

Didn't mean it stopped hurting.

Sophie worked her jaw and kept on walking towards her cabin, ignoring the girls but knowing it was futile. She shared the cabin with them, after all.

"We're talking to you, freak. Or are you chatting with Mr. Frost?"

Sophie sighed, stopped, and turned around. He isn't even here now, she thought, but instead she said, "Don't you have better things to do?"

Hadley Prescott was one of those girls who had everything handed to her on a silver platter, and those silver platters were handed to her on golden trays. She lived in West Burgess, in one of those huge mansions in the heart of a fancy gated community. She attended the same middle school as Sophie after transferring out of Vaughn Prep, an expensive private school where students were seen being dropped off at the entrance by limos. Her hair fell in silky chocolate waves, and every feature on her angelic face was carefully made-up, like an actress in a movie. Her designer clothes were out of place in the snow, unbelievably pretty but with no real use or function.

Kind of like the girl wearing them, Sophie thought bitterly.

Hadley arched a perfect eyebrow at her words. She placed manicured hands on her hips. "Excuse me, Ms. Bennett? Did you just talk back at me?"

Her posse of equally beautiful – equally ugly – friends continued to giggle like this was the funniest thing in the world. Sophie reddened. "So what?"

"Your imaginary friend must be pretty rude if you talk this way to people in real life. Maybe you should upgrade. I hear the Easter Bunny has got better manners."

Her friends cracked up, and Hadley allowed herself a little smile, thinking she'd been clever to think up of that all by herself. Sophie bit her tongue. This witch has no idea what she's talking about. Jack was an angel compared to Bunnymund. But she just huffed and stormed away to the cabin. Her stomach dropped when she realized they were following her.

"My mom says when people talk to themselves it means that they're crazy," a girl with boots more expensive than Sophie's entire wardrobe said. "Maybe Sophie's crazy."

"Maybe Sophie needs to see a doctor," Hadley mock-whispered, well aware Sophie could every single word. Sophie looked down, hoping she could melt into the snow and stay there until the spring came. "She might be legit insane."

"Like her big brother."

Sophie's head snapped up.

She rounded on them.

She pushed Boots first, since she was the closest. The girl fell, a shocked expression on her face. The others froze. They had expected her to flee, maybe even stop and cry, but this? Sophie Bennett did not fight back.

She shoved a girl with glitter on her face to get to Hadley, whose cocoa-colored eyes were wide and disbelieving. Sophie stepped forward until they were almost nose-to-nose. Every word seemed to rip out of throat until they weren't really words. They were snarls.

"Don't talk about my big brother ever again."

Hadley opened her mouth but all that came out were surprised sputters. Sophie whirled and walked away, stepping over the downed Boots with heated emphasis. The other girls scattered away from her like pigeons. Hadley just stood there, a better snowwoman than anything even Jack could sculpt. As she headed for the cabin and left the witches behind, she didn't feel guilty or anything. She felt proud. Insanely proud. Proud that she finally stood up to her long-time tormentor and proud that they didn't just go quiet. They feared her. Even now she could still catch a whiff of it. She walked into the cabin like a returning queen. A Snow Queen, who ruled over an eternal winter, and who never let anyone tease her or they would pay the price. Sophie collapsed on her bed and stared at the ceiling, chest heaving. Her face was hot and sweaty but she never felt better. She could picture a crowd of people cheering her on. A crowd of only five, but they were the ones who mattered: a white-bearded Russian with cookie crumbs on his barrel chest. A giant talking bunny with a boomerang slung on his hip. A tiny dimple-faced Fairy holding a tiny wand. A portly sandy-haired man snoozing on a floating dune. A handsome young man with snow-white hair, leaning on a wooden staff and smiling proudly.

And someone else. Someone who'd left but was now back and prouder than all of them combined because she was his little sister and he loved her. And he promised her that he was never going to leave again.

It took a while for Sophie to realize that the wetness on her cheeks was not sweat.

XXXXX

"You're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you."

Jack sighed. He was hoping things would get better after a good flyover, but coming back to a moody Sophie was definitely not one of the things he considered "better". He twirled his cane and fixed a stern look on the girl. "Every time you look at me your face gets scrunched up like either you've just swallowed a lemon or I stink like nobody's business." He sniffed his armpit. "And I'm going for the former on this one."

Sophie kicked at the snow outside her cabin. She tried her best to avoid his penetrating gaze. "It's not you," she muttered. "Or a stupid lemon."

Jack floated off the roof of the cabin and stood close to her. "Then what is it?"

Sophie hid her face behind a veil of golden hair. Jack frowned. She normally wasn't like this and he didn't like it. Not one bit. Oh no please don't tell me she's discovering her hormones or something, he thought with rising dread. Or God forbid, it's that "time of the month". He had enough trouble having to guide Jamie through his puberty phase, and he was a boy. The same gender. What was he going to do when Sophie started asking him about bras or something?

"Is it those girls again? I swear they were avoiding you in there like you had the Spanish influenza or something. Trust me, I'd know."

Sophie looked up to spare him a glare. "What were you doing inside the girls' cabin?"

Jack's face turned a fierce red. Which was enough to make Sophie almost laugh considering how pale his skin was. "I was just checking up on you. It's not like you guys were doing anything…indecent or anything."

Sophie shook her head and stared off into the distance. Hadley and the other girls had indeed been uncharacteristically silent when they finally joined Sophie in their cabin. Boots throwing her namesake at Mach 5 at the shoe rack with barely controlled anger was the only visible reaction she'd gotten from them. It was in that mire of awkwardness that Sophie began to feel the regret of exploding. The realization of the implications of her actions had been enough to hitch her breath. She had made such a fool out of herself! Had Hadley already spread the news around? That Sophie the Freak had finally gone nuts and attacked them like a rabid dog? What will the other kids they say now? What would she see in their eyes this time?

They would never accept her ever again.

Unable to bear it, she had run outside without her coat and gloves and waited out in the cold. Anything to escape their silent accusation.

When Jack had caught up with her, it only made things worse.

"Come on. It's me. You've got to open up, Soph."

Sophie's stomach did an unpleasant twirl when he used his pet name for her. She hated it when he got all sweet and affectionate. "I don't have to tell you anything."

Jack crossed his arms. "Well, if not me, then your parents. Sophie, if you're being bullied, then you need to immediately tell a grown-up-"

"I'm not being bullied!" she cried, stomping one foot onto the packed snow. Not anymore. "They can't even look at me now." A sniffle. "They're scared of me."

"Why?" Jack's eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"None of your business." With unexpected fire.

"I'm not a fan of the way you're talking to me right now."

"So what?"

"Watch your tone, Sophie!"

"You're not my big brother! You'll never be like Jamie! Never!"

Jack opened his mouth to speak but froze mid-way when her words finally registered through the haze of anger in his head. He remembered when he had full-on run into one of North's yetis on accident; he felt like that right now, like the air had been forced out of his lungs in that single split second. Or maybe like when he was in the presence of the Sandman. Like it was a dream and he would wake up and all he had to do was pinch himself. A blink later he would be laughing with Sophie and everything would be okay and when the sun was down they would sled down milky white hills under moonlight to their heart's content.

No.

This wasn't a dream.

This was a nightmare.

Sophie was crying.

She wiped at her eyes and stared at her boots. Her hair hung loosely over her face. Her posture screamed profound grief. Jack's fingers were white around his staff. The tension was as thick as a block of ice. A hot lump was stuck in his throat, and every time he swallowed something tried to seep out of the corner of his eyes but he remained strong. He would not cry. Not like before. Not like when Jamie had told him he wanted to be alone in New York. Get some space. Find himself. Which to Jack meant that his best friend never wanted to see his face again.

"That's what you think, then."

"Jack."

"That's okay."

"Jack!"

"I get it."

He blasted into the air, leaving a small crater of snow behind. Sophie's pleas were drowned in the rushing air, in the storm in his head and in his heart. He flew and flew until the town of Burgess was far below and cars were the size of little toys under the Christmas tree. It was up here that maybe he could forget himself. Fly and see the world below him and imagine himself as an eagle, majestic and brave and with no worries or concerns save for the next meal. Here, he didn't have to think about the girl who had hurt him. The girl who did not remind her so much of Jamie, the one who left, as she did another girl, a girl from another life, a girl who he had loved with all his heart and had lost forever, and who still haunted his dreams ever since he received the curse of remembering her.

No.

There would be no peace for Jack tonight.

XXXXX

Sophie stayed silent for the rest of day.

She had screamed until her voice cracked, begging for Jack to stop and come back to her. She apologized and sobbed to empty air and when she stopped she was on her knees. She no longer minded the cold; it hurt too much inside to bother with things like snow on her thin jeans or thirty degree temperature.

You're not my big brother! You'll never be like Jamie! Never!

Had she really said that? Replaying it in her head, it was almost as if she had taken a pistol and shot it through her best friend's chest. She had taken their shared pain and every syllable had driven it deeper and deeper into his heart. When Jamie left they were there for each other, and it was for Jamie that they grew to love one another. Deep inside she knew that Jack had assumed his friend's position as her brother, and that every second of every day they spent together he was trying to live up to that standard. Those words had broken something between them, something that could perhaps never be mended.

God. Had she really said that?

Going back to the cabin was not nearly as hard as she had thought it was going to be before her fight with Jack. Hadley and her posse stared daggers at her, but she paid them no attention. They continued to chat about the newest designer brands and how cute they thought so-and-so was while Sophie lay on her bed, once more staring at the ceiling and crying quiet tears under the cover of the sheets.

She was asleep before she had even known she had closed her eyes.

There was a knock on the door, and Ms. Sawyer the Cabin Head popped her perky head in and announced it was time for the last game of the day. Her voice was in such high an octave that it was enough to snap Sophie from the realm of golden sand and dreams. The other girls rushed out of the door like freed cattle, leaving Sophie alone, forgotten, and confused.

She looked out the window and moaned. Night had fallen while she slept, which meant that her cabin mates had benignly neglected to wake her up for the activities in the late afternoon. Whatever. She was too dried out to be bitter about it. She stood and checked herself in the bathroom mirror. At least they didn't draw on her with permanent marker or anything.

Groaning, she put on warmer clothes and went out into the dark, a line of lampposts lighting her way toward the Lodge. Snow was falling, and her feet made tiny crunching sounds as she ran. As a child, she used to be so amused by the noise, and she would make Jamie stomp around like an idiot just to hear it over and over again. Their relatives would laugh, and the other kids would point and jeer, but Sophie loved it. And he never minded doing it, even as a senior in high school. He'd still carry her out to the yard drenched with snow and crunch away, and she would never ever fail to laugh.

She walked up to the Lodge and opened the door. It made the loudest creaking noise as she did and every head inside turned to look at her. She froze in the threshold and smiled weakly.

"Someone should oil these hinges," she joked half-heartedly. Some of the adult chaperones laughed, but from the kids, all she got were judging glares. They were seated on the long oak tables that took up most of the room in neat orderly rows. One of the girls close to her turned to her friend and whispered. A boy was smiling like an idiot and muttering to his buddies. Soon enough, whispers slithered across the spacious hall and she could hear them snorting, trying to contain their laughter. The gigantic fireplace at the head of the Lodge was burning, and the bright flames made their shadows dance like demons from one of Sophie's grandmother's stories. Stories about demons and spirits that cackled and cackled until they drove their victim insane from the noise.

Sophie's face burned, but she took her seat at the end of the row, all by herself, and looked proudly ahead. They would not get the pleasure of seeing her break.

Mr. Dawson cleared his throat and the whispers stopped. He was by the fireplace, beloved clipboard in hand. "I know we're all very happy to know Ms. Bennett is alive and well, but settle down." He needlessly adjusted his ridiculous glasses, hoping to draw attention to his unique fashion choice. "Now, as we all know, the time has come for the Annual Sled Racing Championship on Burgess Hill."

The campers cheered, and even Sophie could not help but swing her legs in excitement and give a little yell in her head.

Mr. Dawson raised his hand, and the kids quieted down. He frowned as if he was surprised it actually worked. "Uh, so we are all very excited, but it's important that we establish some ground rules before moving on. It is very important that you listen to these rules, because we do not want you to get hurt like others in previous years. Poor little kid had to have surgery on his collarbone one camp. Oh, and one girl flipped her sled so hard it took me and three other parents to remove the wooden splinter from her ankle. The city council almost banned the game after that, but I managed to sweet talk them into keeping it. Never underestimate Momma Dawson's homemade gingerbread, folks…"

Sophie filtered out the rest of the counselor's words like most of the other kids in the room. Already she was strategizing, planning the best pushes and slides that would get her to cross the finish line before anyone else in her bracket. She had actually constructed the sled with her parents before the winter break from the worn out remains of Jamie's old one. The finished product was new and sleek, with shiny metal guards and spiraling snowflakes stenciled into the wood. Jack had helped, of course, offering her advice from his days injecting fun into the lives of other kids with other sleds…

The thought of Jack put a sour taste in Sophie's mouth. It was a good, warm memory, but her most recent one involving him was enough to shed a bad light on all the others. She shoved her thoughts away and returned to reality just in time for Mr. Dawson to finish droning.

"So if you follow all of the rules I have just mentioned you will be absolutely fine. The other parents and I will be watching with eagle eyes, so if you do happen to forget the rules, we will be on the scene as fast as possible. Let me take roll real quick before we begin." They groaned as he methodically looked up and down on his sheet, counting each and every little head in front of him before tucking the clipboard under his arm. "We're all accounted for. Now, who's ready to sled?"

The roar was deafening.

Mr. Dawson's eyes twinkled from behind the lens of his glasses. "That's what I like to hear."

They filed out of the Lodge like a flock of sheep, with chaperons at the edges boxing them in and trying their best to contain the palpable excitement. Sophie was right in the middle of the bunch, and for this one moment, the other kids did not mind being so close to her. They were thinking too much about the rush and the thrill of sledding down the biggest hill in Burgess to care about one girl's issues. Sophie let herself forget the pain from hours ago and rode the wave, smiling privately as dozens of feet made tiny crunching noises on the snow.

Burgess Hill was said to be the very spot their founder planted his feet and proudly declared: "It is here that I shall build my house!" The Founder's Hall had long since been moved to make space for a booming residential market, but the hill remained. It was in the middle of the camp grounds, which altogether was found not a mile away from Sophie's neighborhood. An expanse of white ringed by pine trees, and one looming mound rising above the flatness. Burgess Hill.

The kids grabbed their sleds from the fence that bordered the clearing, the place they had set them in the morning before the games had begun. Sophie's was easy to spot, with its awesome design and large size; it stood out like a sore thumb among the others. Some campers had actually tried to steal it, but Sophie had caught them, earning her a pat on the back and the delight of watching Mr. Dawson lecture the would-be sled thieves. The chaperons, too tired to care, let the kids run out across the endless snow toward the hill unattended.

A crowd of parents had gathered around the foot of the hill to watch the game. As Sophie and the others arrived gasping for breath, she spied her parents watching her from among the throng of tightly packed adults. They smiled and waved. Sophie's face broke out for her first real grin since the morning and she waved back.

Mr. Dawson jogged up to them. His glasses were foggy, and he stopped to wipe them off, breathing heavily. "You kids," he gasped. "Will be the death of me. Alright, up the hill!"

They bounded up Burgess Hill. Many of them yelped and slid back, and they laughed. Sophie tripped and ended up getting a mouth full of snow, but this time she was laughing along with everybody else. If just getting up the hill was such good fun, Sophie couldn't wait to see how sliding down was going to be.

"Okay you little ruffians," Mr. Dawson cried. He had his trusty clipboard out, and he casually wrapped a polka dot scarf around his neck.

No wonder he needs glasses, Sophie thought to herself. He has a blind sense of fashion.

She giggled, realizing a second later that that was the sort of thing Hadley would say.

"Get in your brackets!"

Speaking of…

Hadley and her shadows were the last up the hill, normally flawless faces red with exertion. Their eyes locked for a moment, and something ugly reared its head behind those brown orbs. Sophie lifted her chin and stared back. She wasn't backing down this time.

Not when she and her were in the first bracket to race.

"Line up, kids, line up," Mr. Dawson said, grabbing the first racers and placing them side by side at the starting line. He gripped Sophie and tore her away from Hadley's gaze and positioned her accordingly. She stared down the slope of Burgess Hill and noticed the orange cones at the hill's foot. It seemed such a long way down, longer than it looked from below. Nervousness started to flutter in her stomach, but it was a good kind of nervous. The one you get when you aren't afraid of losing, you're excited to know what it feels like to win.

Sophie bounced up and down, ready and eager to go. Then Hadley was there next to her, her presence spoiling it a bit. Just a bit. "Are you ready to lose, freak?" she murmured so Mr. Dawson wouldn't hear. The derision in her voice remained, but there was something else in there. Something like respect. But the kind of helpless, disgusted respect you give when that person happens to be someone you really, really hate.

Sophie smiled. "I was just about to say the same thing to you, Prescott."

She turned away and tried to contain another grin as Hadley simmered beside her. She didn't know why she had answered with that gag-inducing cliché. It was corny, like something out of the movies Jamie liked to watch. Or something Jack would say. But it felt right saying it.

"On your sleds, boys and girls!" Mr. Dawson announced.

Sophie was on the ground before everyone else, on her belly on the sled and raring to go. She gripped the railing of her sled, and she was amazed how well she seemed to mould against it. It felt perfect, natural even. She didn't know if there was a sledding category in the Olympics, but if there was, she'd be in it in a flash. Hadley flopped down next to her, muttering words Jamie called "Dad-can't-get-the-car-to-start-words".

This was going to be a walk in the park, Sophie thought.

And she wouldn't even need Jack to help her out.

"Ready!" Mr. Dawson cried.

The kids behind them were yelling. Down below, the parents were cheering, and she heard two familiar voices crying out her name.

"Set!"

She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, ignoring the other racers, ignoring Hadley's hate-filled glare, and focusing only on one thing.

"Go!"

She pushed, and the world was a blur of white and the beat of her heart pounded in her ears like soldiers pounding on war drums. The brush of wood against snow and the cries of those who watched melded into a symphony of pure noise that drowned out everything else. The cones glowed like orange beacons, guiding her home and onward to sweet victory.

Victory.

She was reminded of a night from long ago when the darkness seemed to overwhelm the sleepy town of Burgess. But then Jack was there, heroic and brave, and so was Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and the Sandman, and together they had pushed back the darkness with their might. And Jamie was there too, and he had stood up to the pale thing on the frozen pond and with his heart and his belief he defeated it, and the world was never threatened by that darkness again. Afterwards Jamie had let her fall asleep in his arms in the middle of the night when they got back, and she remembered thinking: this is what it feels like. This is the true victory.

Sophie gave a shout of pure joy straight from her heart, and she thought to herself that she had never felt so at peace in her entire life.

But then Hadley was there, pushing against her with jealousy and bitterness in her red eyes, and suddenly there was a tug as their rails met and hooked together. Sophie's cry was cut short, and it turned to one of shock and fear.

Then they weren't sliding. They were tumbling. They were tumbling and spinning and Sophie's world became chaos as she felt her body leave her beloved sled and fly into the cold night air, and she was screaming. Screaming and her heart was beating and the only thing she could hope for was that Jack would come flying out of the dark and take her into his arms and they could start all over without the tears and the hurt and the despair of never experiencing what she hoped they would someday come to know.

Then the white earth rose to meet her, and there was just a little pain, and she could not help but think to herself that the little crunching noise she made when she landed against the snow was a little different than the usual, and then she sank into the soft nothingness and thought no more.

XXXXX

"It's not like she meant it," Jack said to the statue. "I mean, we all get upset at some point in our lives. Sometimes we get really upset. She can't possibly have really meant what she said, right?"

The statue of Thaddeus Burgess stared back at Jack, his bronze face frozen in a mask of firm resolution. Jack frowned, reached out, and chipped at a bit of snow that had formed on the tip of the founder's flowing beard.

"I mean, I'm sure you've been ticked off a few times. Building a city isn't easy. I bet you had other old white dudes with awesome beards like yours telling you how to build this hall, or where to put this house. Must've been annoying."

Thaddeus Burgess stared on.

"But you move on, right? You ignore those words because you know they mean well and sometimes people get upset. You move on because that's life and there's no reason to sulk over it, and there's absolutely nothing stopping you from reconciling with the ones you love and explaining to them that it's crazy to talk to a bronze statue in the middle of town and I'm actually going insane, aren't I?"

"Completely off your rocker."

Jack shot up in the air about five feet before regaining his composure. He took a deep breath and turned around where he was floating. "You're right. I am going insane. Not only am I talking to a statue, there's this big fat talking rabbit in front of me and I must be out of my mind."

He ducked to avoid the boomerang before the Easter Bunny had even reached for it.

The severe-looking bunny snatched his weapon out of the air and gave Frost a scary smile. "Watch it, mate. Wouldn't want to find that little stick of yours snapped in half one fine morning now would you?"

Jack Frost dropped to the ground and gripped his friend's massive paw in welcome. "Long time no see. It's a good see, despite that very icky comment that I'll pretend I never heard."

Bunnymund smirked. "Likewise, Frosty."

"So why is there a convenient number of zero people out in the city square tonight?"

"Let's just say they're all googly-eyed at the discovery of a pretty egg in their homes filled with a few hundred dollar bills."

Jack Frost shook his head. "Pretty sure that's against the rules, dude."

The Easter Bunny scoffed and lightly stroked the handle of his boomerang. "Don't talk to me about rule-breaking, Frost. Mr. I'm all Fun and Games and who cares if a few hundred thousand cars get stuck on the highway."

Jack fought back a bark of guilty laughter. "I thought you got over that."

The bunny glared at him. "Wrong there, mate."

Jack rolled his eyes. He lifted his cane and the ground beneath the bunny's feet turned to ice. The Guardian yelped and fell flat on his stomach. Jack floated out of harm's way and sat lightly on the shiny brown head of Thaddeus Burgess. "So why are you here, anyway? North still wanting me to help him out up there? Sandy needs some ice down his shirt to wake him up? Or do the fairies need me to defrost another broken tooth valve again while I pretend like they're not watching me bend over?"

The Easter Bunny got up and dusted himself off. He almost reached for his boomerang but decided against it when Jack smiled and looked just about ready to fly to safety. "I'm sorry to inform you that life goes on with or without Jack Frost there to ruin everybody's bloody day." He sighed. "Routine check-up in this area. Something right terrible has just happened and I need to help spread some hope around. From what I've heard, looks like they'll need it."

Jack frowned. "Didn't know you did that."

His friend shrugged. "Well, we do what we can every chance we get."

Jack sighed and used the tip of his cane to catch the falling snow. When a piece landed, he turned it into a beautiful snowflake and released it, watching it until it disappeared into the dark and then he repeated the process. "So," he said, this time making a chain of snowflakes erupt out of his cane, and smiling nostalgically at the spiraling shape. "What's this terrible event that made you come all the way out here to see my pretty face?"

The Easter Bunny's boomerang hit its mark this time, knocking the cane out of Jack's hand and earning an indignant shout. The bunny caught it and inspected the tribal markings on the wood, stuck in deep thought. "Like I said: not everything's about you. Some poor tyke killed herself in a sledding race not too long ago. Right in front of the other camp members and parents. Horrible business. Downright ugly. Some fairies saw it happen and they zipped all the way to Denver to come tell me. Came here as fast as my bunny legs could carry me. Thought it was strange considering that they didn't tell you, since you live here and all. Isn't that strange, mate? Mate?" The Easter Bunny looked up from his boomerang. "Frosty?"

A little snowflake floated down onto the Guardian's snout, its perfect, frozen symmetry holding for one stunning moment before it finally dissolved into the ether.

Jack was gone.

The beginning of the end

No.

No.

Oh God, please no.

Burgess Hill, he thought. That's where we left the sled. That's where they were going to race. Need to get to Burgess Hill.

The town raced by him in a vortex of sound and color. He flew as fast as his power allowed, faster than he ever flew before. His heart had grown claws and was trying to rip its way up his throat. There was him and the Hill in his head and everything other than that did not matter because of the thing that waited for him there. The thing he did not want to see but needed to more than anything else.

Oh God please don't do this.

He froze in place, the Hill just below him. Breathing like a dying man, he dove down towards the cluster of people by the foot of the mound, ignoring the broken wooden sled and the hint of red below it on the disturbed slope. Jack landed and pushed through the huddle, not caring if they heard him or felt him but only caring about the thing they were looking at. He made it through, and then he saw it.

It wasn't sadness that overtook him first. It was a thoughtful confusion, a sort of puzzlement that slowed time and the world around him.

This can't be right.

This is a just a dream.

Are you listening, Sandy?

Wake me up.

The thing in the pink winter coat, the broken thing, stared up at him accusingly with those sightless eyes the color of a winterless day.

Please wake me up.

A woman was wailing behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The sound chilled him to the core of his being. It was colder than any December wind or any arctic ice because it was devoid of joy. It was a scream that came from the soul and was pure in its grief, and the man beside her was crying as well, and hearing that particular man weeping – no, gasping – like a newborn cut to Jack's heart.

I'm begging you.

WAKE ME UP GODDAMIT

Jack Frost flew away before the ambulances came. He passed them by as he flew down the road, away from that lifeless thing and the screaming parents and the little children who looked at the thing with wide, haunted eyes. He ignored the brown shape that had run alongside him, urging him, pleading him, to come back, but he had flown faster than it could run, and he was soon gone and out of sight. He flew until Burgess was miles behind him and the country dissolved into a mess of worthless matter. He flew until he came to a crag by the sea, a height of dead rocky land that stabbed into the waves. He stumbled onto the great cliff and felt the salty ocean spray wet his already damp face. He held his staff aloft and screamed not at the raging winter sea, but at the crescent moon bleeding light into the dark.

"You did nothing!" he screamed. "You sat up there and did nothing while she died in front of you!"

The moon looked on, and the little guardian below it fell to his knees and gripped his stick with pale, trembling hands.

"Who are you?" he said with a sudden rage. Every fiber of his being strained and fought against the light illuminating his body, and he was filled with disgust and hatred for the thing that sat up there in the sky and was always silent, even when he needed it the most. "How dare you? How dare you do this to me?"

Bright, wet eyes stared upwards at the moon that seemed to be hiding behind its own shadow. The same moon that had revived him after he had fallen in that frozen pond and lost his little sister to the irretrievable ages. The moon that had watched as the people he valued most in this world left him forever. The moon that he wished would crumble beneath his gaze and fall to the hungry sea below him.

"Why didn't you just let me die?"

And with that final question asked, Jack Frost stood, cast his staff aside, and threw himself to the waves.

The guardian fell.

And the one who sat above answered.

A single shaft of moonlight pierced the wintry clouds and kissed Jack's skin for one spellbinding second. He felt all of eternity pass in the blink of one tear-struck eye and for just that single moment, a moment out of the millions he'd spent on this Earth, everything felt indecipherably and irrevocably right.

Then he hit the waves, and that aged life ended.

And another began.

A/N: Very wordy, but that's my style. Anyway, drop a review if you like it. If you don't do it anyway