Hey all!
This is the sequel to What's Left of Me, my JackRabbit pairing fic. I highly advise you read that fic before you try to tackle this one, because otherwise, there's not going to be a lot that you understand.
Warning: There is a lot of angst and hurt in this fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.
Summary: He had always been alone. Now he's struggling to find his place with the Guardians. Sequel to What's Left of Me.
o-o-o-o
He had always been alone, always taken care of himself.
Why would anything change his mind?
Maybe it was because he had lost everything that he didn't even know he valued highly until it was all taken away from him. He didn't know how cruel the world could be until everything faded to black.
He didn't how how mercilessly he could kill.
o-o-o-o
North's workshop was bustling once again, the yetis back to their usual positions as happily as they possibly could be. The elves skittered around aimlessly, their small hats askew as they did the various activities that usually resulted in some kind of unusual result.
Toothiana was flitting around, several Baby Teeth trailing behind her as she double checked that everything was in order in Japan. Sandman was further behind her, rolling his eyes as he mimed Tooth's frantic bustling around. Even Bunnymund was present, though he was more a bystander than much else. Considering that the Pooka was highly sensitive to the cold, he was still attempting to warm himself by the large fire in the hearth, his ears laid back in pleasure.
But there was a small shift in the way that everything flowed.
A wary Winter Spirit floated around the edges of the workshop, not quite joining in on the bustle, nor making eye contact with the others when asked if he would come and give them a hand with something. He simply did as was asked before retreating back to the shadows, his bright eyes troubled.
All of the Guardians were concerned for Jack's health. But none of them really knew what to do about it. Jack had been quiet and anxious the entirety of the time that he and Bunnymund had arrived back at the workshop, not really wanting to interact with anyone, including Bunnymund.
The Pooka was more understanding than the others, but even he didn't understand why Jack was pulling away from him. After the events that they had been through together, he would have expected the Winter Spirit to at least be a little closer to him than off on his own.
Jack was new, different. His stance was that of a worn and old man, and his eyes were flinty and guarded. Bunnymund had seen that look before, all of the times being while he was hiding the fact that he had tried to kill himself from the Pooka. Which led Bunnymund to believe that Jack was trying to keep everything from everyone rather than telling what he had gone through while all of them had been...out of commission.
Not that the other Guardians weren't traumatized in their own ways by what had happened. Tooth looked over her shoulder every several moments as if she expected someone to be standing there, while Sandman was more serious than usual. And North...well, he'd pretty much thrown himself back into his work in order to distract him from thinking about anything that could lead him to become more depressed than usual. But all of Bunnymund's stress didn't come from just thinking about what had happened. No, it all revolved around the Winter Spirit who was slowly beginning to waste away again in front of his eyes.
His heart clenched as he watched Jack settle onto a banister, the teen's face neutral.
The Pooka finished heating up his frozen behind before slowly moving towards the teen, who had already glanced his way for several seconds before going back to fiddling with something in his palm. Probably the Moonstone that the Winter Spirit hadn't let out of his sight for even a single minute since waking up in the Warren. All that he had been given as an answer when asked where he'd gotten it was, "The Moon told me."
Odd, but it had to have some truth in it. Most likely it had something to do with the Man in the Moon himself.
But what?
o-o-o-o
Jack balanced carefully on the banister, his fingers idly running over the smooth Moonstone, his thoughts sinking into the new pit that had been dug in his mind since the confrontation with Pitch.
Everything was beginning to go back to normal for the others, even though they didn't believe it. The Winter Spirit could just see it. Tooth was already wrapped up in her tooth collecting duties, Sandman was his usual expressive self, and Bunnymund and North were back at their gentle banter about whether Easter or Christmas was the more difficult holiday to look out for.
Actually, Jack could tell that North and Bunnymund weren't quite as okay as the other two Guardians. Sandman had been around longer than the rest, possibly being around since the Man in the Moon had been created. And Tooth was one who refused to dwell on the unhappy things. Her mission was to collect the happy memories from children, not the bad, so she thought of herself as the same. Just a collection of happy memories. But Jack could see an edge to her shoulders and her Baby Teeth as they fluttered around her.
Bunnymund was concerned about him, he knew. That was why he had to distance himself from the Pooka. He didn't want everyone fawning over him, even though some tiny part in the back of his mind was stubbornly telling him that yes, it was exactly what he needed at the moment.
Everything in him rebelled at the thought of walking away fromt the Pooka, but Jack just had to make sure that he realized that he was fine. Well, not fine, but not bad, either. He was still somewhere in the denial stage. Survivors guilt, he'd heard it called once.
But was it really all that simple?