I'm worthless. I don't deserve to live. Even the few souls that do see me, reject me and cast me out. I'm nothing but the persistent, bothersome cold that everyone hates. They hate me because I… I kill, I'm a reckless murderer, who won't go away. So why don't I go away?

Jack Frost hurt, he was wounded the day he came out of that pond; that was a long time ago, but the wound never healed. It continued to burn and bleed. It went out of control and spread through his whole body; slowly killing his hope, until there was nothing left but despair, rage, and the bitter voices screaming his misery in his head.

Somehow, he hadn't gone completely off the deep-end. He was still sane, barely. There was a single thread of hope that he had managed to save, and that thread was the only thing keeping him from falling. So for all those years, Jack clung to it, suspended over the darkness that taunted him, telling him that if he just let go that, yes, it would devour him, but he would be numbed of his pain, that it would be no more. But he didn't trust it, so he held on, trying so desperately to find someone who would hand him a better rope to hold on to. Even just an acknowledgement would give him a little more strength to keep hanging.

So one day, when flying by the North Pole, Jack found the place everyone was looking for. Santa's workshop. Quietly, he hovered by a window and peeked in. Many large, furry creatures, and small human-like things scurried about inside. Jack placed his hand on the window and pushed it open. Once inside, he hovered just off the ground, looking at the large room. Smells that made his stomach growl wafted from another room, toys ranging from many sizes were scattered across tables and the floor, ribbon and paper littered the ground everywhere. Despite it looking a bit, un-organized, Jack found the place very inviting. The atmosphere just had something, cheery, about it.

Jack stopped moving when he realized everyone in the room had stopped their tasks. He looked up and saw one of the furry creatures in front of him. He held his breath, waiting for it to walk through him. But instead, to his shock and delight, it picked him up by his sweatshirt.

Jack chuckled, "Hey, what do you think you're doing? How can you see me?" His smile turned to a frown when the creature walked to the door. He glared at Jack before tossing him into the snow.

Jack stood up, and brushed the snow off him. For a while, he just stood there, staring at the door, thinking for some ridiculous reason that it would open again. His mind swirled in chaos. Jack wasn't sure if he should be happy, ecstatic, sad, angry, offended, or what? But there was one thing that stuck out to him, plain as day. Jack Frost wasn't wanted. A tear slipped down his cheek as he rocketed from the ground into the sky.

An hour or so later, Jack found himself standing beside a tall glacier. It loomed over him with jagged edges, mocking him, reminding him of the Titanic.

Of course they threw you out! You're a criminal! You do whatever you please, not caring the slightest about what affects your actions might cause. You've hurt and killed so many people, so your just punishment is to be forever alone and hated. That's what you deserve.

No, that's not true! I do care! I cry for them! I can't help it! It's not my fault! It's not! It's not fair!

You can't control your power. It kills people, so it is your fault. Caring or not, people die, and it's because of you!

Then why don't I just die then! Kill me! End me, so nobody will have to suffer from my cold ever again.

Death? You don't even deserve death, Jack. It's too easy, too short, and too painless. You deserve all this pain you feel. It should last forever, so you know what you've done.

But I didn't do anything! I didn't ask to be this! I didn't want to be a…a murderer! I didn't do it! I didn't do anything!

Jack curled into a ball, hiding his face. He placed his hands over his ears, as if that would keep the voices out. But of course, it didn't.

No matter what you say, Jack, everything is still the same. You are hated, unseen, a murderer, and you will be alone forever in your pain. You're worthless.

"Shut up!" Jack sobbed into his arms, just wanting the voices to stop. He lifted his face to the skies.

"It's not my fault!" He screamed.

Yes it is, Jack. Quit denying it, accept the truth of your miserable life.

Jack's hands were tangled in his hair, pulling and making him cry a bit harder.

You deserve this. You're a horrible person, tricking those kids into thinking that snow and cold is fun and good. You conniving killer.

Jack was on his knees, his hands on the ice wall in front of him.

"I'm sorry!" He howled. "Just go away!" Jack began banging his head against the ice wall, trying to shake the voices away. Blood flowed down his face, into his mouth, and making a puddle on the floor. He looked up dizzily at the ice wall, now red with his blood. His head pounded, but the voices were gone. Then he realized that he'd satisfied them, making them leave.

That was his last thought before he slipped un-conscious, were his nightmares awaited.

A/N

This will be a two-shot. The next part will take place after the movie some time, where the guardians find out the true pain Jack endured. There might be RainbowSnowcone in the next part also. I don't know for sure, but we'll see.

Hope you thought this was super sad, cause that was what I was going for.

Anywho, just to let you all know, I will finally be able to update "A Cold Return" next week probably, because my laptop will FINALLY be fixed. So, there you go!

Please review! Even just a quick smiley face is fine, just to let me know that you read it and enjoyed it! Constructive criticism is welcome!

~Annanarra