Author: I don't own Rise of the Guardians. Trust me, if I did there would be a whole lot more bromance in it, and more father and son Jack and North. This little piece is based on a scene from Supernatural, I hope it's still somewhat recognizable.

All Hell Breaks Loose.

He was tired, so very tired. After nearly three days of being kidnapped and forced into Pitch Black's 'training camp' where he and eight other spirits and sprites were forced to fight... Fight to the end, all Jack wanted was to curl up on a nice snow bank. He'd either fall asleep or weep.

The worst of it all was that some of the older elementals had actually agreed to Pitch's conditions. Fear could drive the best of people to do the most horrible things. It ended in nearly three days of non-stop fighting, hiding and running for your lives.

Jack had managed to avoid most fights, had tried to stop the madness, tried to get everyone to not give Pitch the show he wanted.

And yet somehow he ended up standing over Eames' unconscious body, half of his broken staff raised to deliver the final blow.

The ice had melted from Jack's skin and even his staff was only moist now. The fight with the fire spirit hadn't exactly left him un-marked. The many cuts and bruises he had already sustained fighting the others had not made this battle any easier.

Jack's snow white hair was matted and brownish thanks to the blood from a cut just above his eyebrow he had gotten from a shuriken from a Japanese forest spirit. He was sure he had at least two broken- if not cracked ribs from when a spirit of nature used vines to seperate Jack from his Staff, and now he could add third degree burns around his wrists and left ankle and a burn on his side, which made it felt like a dagger was slicing in his skin with every breath he took, to his already impressive list of injuries. That accompanied with the ever present pain in his chest that came from when his staff had snapped in two during a struggle with a water nymph.

Thin fingers trembled trying to have enough grip on the staff to... Too...

Realizing what he was about to do Jack let out a strangled gasp, which could easily pass for a sob, the winter spirit couldn't let go of the half of the broken staff fast enough. Dry heaving at the thought of murder Jack scrambled backwards, he kept on stumbling till his back was against one of the many dead trees in the dark forest.

If he had any food in his stomach he would have vomited. Jack shakily wrapped his arms around himself trying to keep himself from falling appart.

He just wanted to go home!

He wanted to be in his room at the North pole! Dreaming sweet fun dreams of adventures yet to come, made for him specifically by Sandy. He wanted to wake up and walk into the globe room to find Bunny and North arguing over whose holiday was better. Jack wanted Tooth to fly in and dot over his teeth and ask if he brushed them yet.

Instead of being home with his family he was in a dark dead forest. There were dead bodies of the ones who listened to Pitch's demands, and the smell of blood and burnt flesh hang in the air.

Ice blue eyes blinked open lazily as Jack tried to fight of the dreamless sleep exhaustion was trying to coax him into. Despite how tired he was Jack couldn't fall asleep and face the pitch black. Pitch was watching, somewhere Pitch was watching enjoying the fight and fear.

But he was too tired to keep his eyes open much longer...

"Frostbite!"

Jack's eyes snapped open.

That voice... He shook his head, leant his back against the tree and closed his eyes again. It couldn't be...

"Jack! Where are ya?!"

This time Jack couldn't brush it off as nothing. Slowly, not daring to be hopeful Jack got to his feet whimpering in pain when his ribs protested against the movement.

-ROTG-

Bunnymund raced through the forest, running on all fours. It had taken them two days to pinpoint Jack's locatin and even then they'd ended up with only vague descriptions. They had split up hours ago to cover as much ground as possible.

Aster hated this place, the forest was as dead as it could be. All the trees were grey without any leaves. The little grass there was on the infertile ground was yellow and it reeked.

But that smell wasn't the only thing that the pooka smelled. No the thing that made Bunnymund run faster than he had ever before, the smell that made him feel cold in the most unpleasant way was the scent of blood, salty tears, burnt flesh, vomit and many other unpleasant smells wrapped together to represent death and pain.

The rabbit froze, his large sensitive ears picking up the sound of twigs snapping and grass bending under someone's feet. He immediately straightened up, emerald eyes scanning the area. "Frostbite! Jack! Answer me mate! Where are ya?"

It took so much of the 6 foot 1 warrior to not slump in relief when his sharp eyes saw Jack's outline step out from behind a large tree a couple of yards away.

Bunnymund was about to lower himself and run up to the winter spirit when an orange glowing man who appeared to be his in forties his clothes, loosely fitting and in a darker shade of orange which seemed to move on their own, slowly waving back and forth like the wind playing with the flame of a candle, came from behind the tree as well. Bunny's eyes grew when he recognized the piece of snapped wood in what he assumed to be fire spirit's hand.

"Jack look out!" Realization hit Bunnymund too late, his warning a second before Eames pulled his arm back and roughly drove the broken end of Jack's staff through the winter's spirit' back.

"No!" Bunnymund screamed dropping to all fours and running to Jack and Eames even though he was already too late. His large ears flattening against the skull trying to block out the wet squelch sound of the broken staff being pulled out of the boy's back.

Jack grunted falling to his knees, the pain too much for him to even keep his eyes open. He heard the sound of footsteps and felt a brief moment of relief when the warm being behind him disappeared.

Someone was in front of him, gripping the collar of his no longer bright blue hoodie. The person was talking-yelling and at the same time pleading for him open his eyes and look at him.

His eyelids felt like they were made out of lead and it took a great effort to open them. Dull blue eyes locked with emerald green ones which were filled with worry.

"K-k-k-anga-roo?"

Bunny's grip on Jack's collar tightened, he desperately tried to keep the boy up. "I-I-It's me mate." He said giving up and letting Jack lean on him. "Lemme look at'cha." He whispered, voice incredibly soft and gentle as he put a paw on the boy's back quickly pulling back when he felt something warm and wet.

Looking at his paw Bunny tensed up at the large amount of blood on his paw. He'd only touched Jack for a second... "Hey, hey," He chided pulling Jack back up, desperately trying to ignore how limp the boy was in his arms. "Look at me Snowflake." Jack's eyes weren't half lidded and dull. They weren't lifeless! B-because Jack wasn't dying. He couldn't! Jack just wasn't focusing enough to look at Bunnymund. Everything would be alright. "Look at me, it's not even that bad." Bunny tried, his voice thick with worry and chest aching. "It's not even that bad alright?"

Jack still wasn't listening. The boy's eyes were still half lidded and his head lulled downwards.

"Jackie? Frostbite!" Bunnymund cried shaking the boy needing the teenager to respond. Needing the teenager to... "Listen to me, I'm gonna take ya back to tha pole and we're gonna patch ya up, kay?" Bunny sniffed shutting his eyes tightly. "Y-Ya gonna be as good as... As good as new." He whispered giving Jack another shake forcing those half lidded eyes to look at him. "I'm gonna take care of ya..." Trembling paws gently ran through matted, blood coated white hair. There was so much gentleness and love in the simple action that it hurt. "That's mah' job right?"

The Pooka tried to make it sound light, to keep himself from falling apart. "Look after my pain in the arse little br-... Jack!" Bunnymund cried when Jack's eyes closed. "Jack! Jack!" He yelled forcefully shaking the immortal teenager. "Frostbite! Please!"

Bunnymund had never felt so cold before. His insides were freezing, in his years of immortal life he had never been so cold. And yet the boy in his arms wasn't cold enough! Jack was supposed to be colder than this!

Jack Frost was supposed to be energetic mischievous an-and-and not still and unmoving. The teenager was supposed to come to the Warren throw snow balls at the Pooka and they would run after each other. It would turn in a race and they would have fun and Bunny would forget why was mad in the first place.

Instead Jack Frost was...

"..no" Bunny's voice broke, he cradled the boy in his arms refusing the pain, cold, darkness that reality was becoming. "No! n-n-n-n-no. Oh god..." He sobbed. "God..."

This couldn't be reality.

This was a nightmare created by Pitch to keep him from finding Jack, to keep him from finding his bro- It had to be a nightmare.

Bunnymund turned his head to sky, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Jack!"