Please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger. (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

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Anyway, I have MOVED this story COMPLETELY to another site. You can find this STORY and all its subsequent UPDATES here, just remove the spaces and asterisks (*): h*t*t*p :/ archiveofourown. o*r*g /works/868488

I have the same penname there as I do here: ParadiseAvenger

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NOTE: In this story, none of the Guardians ever met Jamie and Sophie in the movie. Just imagine their roles were filled by some other kids.

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"I think… that when you remember everything at once, when it's all over, when it all comes back to you… The things you'd forgotten and might not want to remember… A kaleidoscope of memories just rushing back at you with more force than any snowstorm… Maybe I wasn't ready… Or maybe, forgetting was better…

"Maybe that was why I forgot in the first place. Or maybe that was why the Man in the Moon took my memories from me and gave me a new life. Maybe it wasn't punishment or torment like I originally thought… Maybe, it was the kindest act of mercy anyone had ever bestowed upon me… Maybe it was a gift to forget, but I threw that gift away…

"I wanted to remember and now… I think… I just want to forget again… but I can't."

Flowers of ice spread beneath Jack Frost's every step. Behind him, he half-heartedly listened to the raucous crashing and cursing of the yetis as they slipped and fell on the slippery path that was left in his wake. Interspersed with the loud sounds of yetis falling, he heard the noisy jingle of elves slipping and sliding, chattering in their high-pitched little voices. Usually, Jack Frost would have stopped to laugh at the mishap he had created or fled swiftly before Phil could get his paws on him or else collapsed into a fit of apologies, but this time, Jack just continued walking as if he hadn't heard the commotion at his back.

Distracted was kind of an understatement to describe Jack Frost right now. Ever since regaining his memories of his life as a human and defeating Pitch Black, Jack had been more than distracted. His head was far higher in the clouds than usual and nothing was bringing it down. Jack walked on, unaware, distracted, his glacial eyes unseeing.

Phil sensed that something was really wrong with Jack this time—that this was not a mere trick to trip up the workshop before Christmas. So Phil, not only being too uncoordinated to follow after the young spirit on his path of ice but also being rather concerned, decided to let Nicholas St. North handle the matter.

It only took three words—Jack Frost and trouble—to get North out of his office and at Jack's heels. Having fully expected a prank-gone-wrong or other disaster-of-epic-proportions, North was a little surprised to only find a path of beautifully blooming ice and many yetis and elves with sore bottoms lying in the upstairs hallway. They all looked at North with mixed expressions of annoyance and concern.

Jack was just walking, staring straight ahead and looking for all the world like he had no idea the trouble he was causing.

"Jack!" North's voice boomed out through the workshop. Then, the Russian cursed as the ice nearly took his feet out from under him when he tried to follow after Jack down the slippery hall. How on earth did the boy make walking on thin ice look so easy? "Jack Frost!" he shouted.

Jack continued walking down the upper halls of the workshop, ice fanning behind him, as if he didn't even hear North's voice or the noisy falling of yetis and elves. His pale eyes were far-seeing, focused on the patterns of frosty flowers that spread between his toes or maybe something else entirely.

"Jack!" North shouted, staggering and sliding his way up behind the winter child.

When he was within arm's range, he grasped Jack's narrow shoulders and forced the boy to whirl to face him. Jack's feet slid easily on the sheet of ice, his small body easy to manhandle, and North was a strong man to begin with. Even so, though he had grabbed Jack on a few other occasions and his grip now was not tight, Jack reacted oddly.

His head snapped up, pale lips parting slightly, and his eyes… His eyes froze North to his very core. There was something shadowed in those beautiful sky-blue eyes that hadn't been there before. They were the eyes of a wounded animal—wide, fragile, and oh-so tragic, begging, pleading. But before North could decipher more than that, the moment passed. Jack blinked and his eyes cleared, his pale fingers curving around his staff as he stared up at North.

"Hey," Jack said nonchalantly, smiling broadly, "What's up, North?"

"W-what is up?" North choked out, shock freezing his tongue too the roof of his mouth.

Jack's brow lifted. "I haven't broken anything, honest, and if you found a frozen elf, I assure you that he deserved it," he explained quickly to cover the bases that usually got him into trouble first and foremost. "And whatever Phil told you was a lie. I didn't do anything to let out the reindeer or otherwise ruin Christmas."

North continued to stare at Jack, stunned.

"And I haven't done anything to Bunny either," Jack added, glancing at his surroundings to try to figure out what was going on that had North grabbing a hold of him and refusing to let go. Suddenly, he became aware of the platform of ice that was spread beneath his feet and down the hallway in near entirety. He swallowed, releasing his power on the ice and watching it turn into mere water. "Did I do that?" he asked softly. "I didn't mean to."

With the sheet of ice gone, the elves and yetis began to pick themselves up and dust themselves off. Phil shook his hairy fist at Jack, but Jack saw concern in the big creature's eyes. He must have done something either very bad or very strange.

"North?" Jack asked. He kept his voice strong and firm, but some part of him must have betrayed how nervous he really felt because North gave him a big smile and clapped him on the shoulder.

"No harm done," North said with a booming laugh. "Very funny, Jack."

"But—" Jack protested because he hadn't even intended for this to be a mischievous prank. He hadn't realized the floor beneath his feet was being covered in ice as he walked by. His powers hadn't been that out of his control—ruled by his emotions and desire to survive—since his birth on the frozen lake over three hundred years ago.

He was concerned. He'd never thought regaining his memories could cause something like this to happen to him!

North released Jack's shoulder and took a small step back. "But Jack… maybe you want to go outside in snow for little while…" At Jack's stricken look, North quickly added to assure the boy that he wasn't being thrown out. "Just so yetis can clean up and calm down. Elves, too."

Jack nodded slowly, studying the mess he had made of his new home. "Sorry," he whispered. Then, without further ado, he let the wind lift him off his feet and usher him out the nearest window. There were light fluffy flakes falling outside and Jack's pale body was quickly lost within them.

North's mind returned to the sight of Jack's eyes, his heart hammering. What was that expression on the young Guardian's face? They all knew that Jack had been hurt by his three hundred years of abandonment, but for the first time, North wondered to what extent Jack had been hurt. There was something in those eyes that Jack's bright smile did not reach. It was a piece of him that was completely and thoroughly broken and yet… North could not remember seeing that pain in Jack's eyes until recently.

This… it was something new.

North promised himself that he would keep a close eye on his young friend, watching for this problem to either come fully to the surface of sink back into the depths of Jack's soul. But Christmas was drawing near and North had larger concerns than the flighty and strange nature of the lonely spirit-boy, Jack Frost. Unless it caused a true problem, North was content to let Jack keep his secrets to himself.

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The wind tossed Jack about, enjoying how plaint his body was, and Jack just allowed the wind to have complete control over him. The wind was the only being he really trusted to have his back, to protect and comfort him. In all his three hundred years of immortal and tormented life, the wind was the only thing that stayed at his side, as trustworthy as the staff he had used to save his sister from death. He sighed, breath pluming on the cold air, as the wind tossed him through the sky above the North Pole.

Reclining against the curve of the wind's embrace, holding his staff tightly, Jack allowed his mind to drift. He should have known better than to let his guard down so completely, even in the comfort of his best friend. After all, the wind had been around far longer than he had and had grown rather adept at playing even better tricks than Jack himself.

One moment, Jack was enjoying the support of the wind.

The next, total and complete freefall.

Jerked from his thoughts, he dropped several feet, a yelp of surprise escaping his lips. He was desperately about to call for the wind to save him, to form a snowdrift to cushion his fall, to try to steer himself into the branches of a tree—anything to save himself from what would be a painful and bone-crushing landing on the frozen ground. But all his worry was unnecessary. Jack landed safely in a deep snowdrift, his body cushioned softly, and the drop had only been a few feet anyway. The wind, though tricky and playful, would never really hurt him.

In fact, the wind seemed a little insulted by his doubt, but it couldn't really blame the boy. It knew just how much pain and suffering Jack had been through.

"Sorry," Jack whispered to the wind. "I know you'd never hurt me. I'm just… I'm feeling a little strange lately…"

As a sign that it forgave him, the wind lifted Jack from the drift and set him back on his feet.

Frost spread beneath Jack's toes, giving him a more solid surface to stand on in the thick drifts of the North Pole. He glanced around at the unfamiliar area. To his left, there was a steep slope of a hill that led into a swiftly-flowing river that he knew came down from the mountains and then led out to the sea just by the scent of the water. To his right, there was a dark forest of pine trees dusted beautifully with light snow. The tracks of wolves ringed its edge.

Jack fancied himself a sort of explorer and couldn't resist the temptation. He had never seen a real wolf before—only in picture books he spied over kids' shoulders and in dreams Sandman sent him. It would be great to explore the forest and maybe even find the wolves that had left those tracks to keep him out of his own head. After all, North wanted him out of the workshop long enough for the yetis to pull themselves together and forgive Jack for his antics. Exploring the woods would help the time go faster and have the added effect of keeping him from thinking.

Jack swung his staff across his shoulders comfortably and walked across the thick snow, enjoying the crisp fresh air scented with pine trees. "This much be where Christmas air fresheners come from," he said out loud. It was a habit from being alone for three hundred years that he hadn't quite been able to break yet. There was a time when he had only heard his own voice, but he had friends now and he really should stop talking to himself before someone thought he really was crazy.

Jack followed the wolf tracks for a long time, weaving between trees with the wind nudging eagerly at his back all the while. He frosted the pine trees, making them sparkle, and tested a few birds that saw fit to swoop in on his head when he came too close to their nests. He was having fun, enjoying the fact that he didn't have to hide anything from the wind and himself out here. He didn't have to smile and convince everyone around him that everything was fine or be on his best behavior for fear that the Guardians would tire of him and banish him back to his lonely existence.

The sun sank low on the horizon, casting Jack's shadow long and slender before him. He should really head back to North's before the Russian sent out a search party for him. Besides, the yetis and elves were bound to have relaxed by now. He was just about to call for the wind to take him home when he heard a sound.

'Wolves,' was his first thought, caught between eagerness to see one and fear that they would eat him. He had been chased by enough dogs over the years to know that canines could see him regardless of how their masters felt about him and he wasn't keen to find out how wolves would react to seeing him.

But the sound was too noisy for a wolf and he could have sworn he could make out a voice. But who on earth would be this deep in the woods at this hour? Hunters maybe? With dogs?

He shuddered at the thought.

Jack turned away, content to hurry back to the workshop and enjoy some of the elves' cookies, but the sound stopped him again. It sounded like someone crunching through the snow, tripping and stumbling. He could have sworn he heard a child's voice, but there was no reason at all for a child to be here… was there?

Jack wove deeper into the forest, following the strange sounds until he reached a small clearing. Shock stilled Jack's heart, a chill that had nothing to do with winter running through his body.

Staggering through the treacherous woods was a young boy. He might have been barely eight, maybe even younger for how thin and small he was, and he was woefully underdressed for the freezing weather of the North Pole. He wasn't wearing his winter jacket, but instead kept it clutched strangely to his chest. Even as Jack watched, the boy stumbled and went down on his knees in the thick now, shivering, teeth chattering.

Jack knelt beside the boy, softly whispering, "Hey."

He reached to touch the boy's thin shoulder, but his hand passed through him with the prickle of pain he was so used to feeling. He didn't know why he thought this lost boy would be able to see him. No one saw him except those few children in Burgess. Just because he was a Guardian now, the fact that no one believed in him didn't change. He sighed heavily, sadly.

It was then that Jack realized there were not only one, but two children here in the forest.

The boy wasn't clutching his empty winter jacket to his chest. There was a young girl, maybe three-years-old, swathed protectively within it. She appeared to be unconscious, her head lolling over the boy's arm and her eyes tightly closed. Her mouth was twisted with pain, her tiny fingers clenched in the soft cotton of a stuffed rabbit, and Jack thought he spied blood in her hair.

His heart stopped.

The boy bit his lower lip hard, halting his chattering teeth, and then began to talk to himself. "Get up," he told himself firmly in a voice that was far too adult for such a young child. "Get up before you freeze to death."

Then, apparently from sheer power of will, he forced himself to his feet and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Shivering, he grasped the little girl together to his chest and looked at the dark surrounding woods. The sun was setting, darkness seeping in from all sides.

Fresh hopeless tears welled in the boy's dark eyes. "S-stop crying," he told himself harshly. "Crying is stupid." He staggered forward a few steps and then looked down at the unconscious little girl in his arms. "It'll be okay, Sophie," the boy said. "It's going to be fine. We'll get out of here." But even as he said those words, his voice cracked as uncontrollable sobs welled up in his chest.

Shaken, Jack quickly looked around, his ears straining. Were these children lost? How had they gotten out here? Where were their parents? And, more importantly, even if Jack found out the answers to any of these questions, what exactly was he going to do about it? He was invisible to humans, adults and children alike.

Then, the young boy said something that chilled Jack's blood. "Crying is stupid. You're stupid!"

Jack whirled around, thinking the boy was somehow talking to him and hope buoyed his heart even as it broke anew, but he wasn't. He was talking to himself, ripping apart what must have been frail childhood confidence. He whispered hateful words to himself, tears flowing freer and faster than before.

"That's why Mommy doesn't love you," he hissed to himself. "That's why Daddy's so mean. It's all your fault. It's because you're stupid!" Then, he broke down sobbing. His small arms coiled around his freezing body, nails raking the thin long-sleeved shirt as he cried into his knees. "It's all my fault! Stop crying! Crying is stupid, just like you are!"

Jack approached the boy, crouching beside him in the snow and begged whoever would listen to let this child see him so he could help. But no such deity was listening and nothing happened. The boy continued to cry and night fell deeper and darker without care for the children's plight. A cold wind howled down from the mountains.

"It's all my fault," he choked out. "I'm sorry, Sophie. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault we're out here…" He stroked the little girl's face, pushing her pale hair back into the shelter of the jacket she was wrapped in. There was a knot of blood tangled in the hair at her temple just above her brow. "I'm so sorry, Sophie."

Jack made a rash decision, his heart splitting. Abruptly, he whipped the wind and ice into a frenzy. This boy couldn't see him and he couldn't touch the children, but he could still control the snowy world around them. The boy shrieked in surprise as the snow beneath him turned into ice and they started sliding.

"No, no, no!" the boy screamed, desperately clutching the small girl closer. "We're going to crash!" He tried to stop his slide, but to no avail. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around the unconscious little girl tighter, curving in his shoulders to protect her, and steeled his face into an expression that showed none of the fear he must have felt.

But Jack had over three hundred years of instigating wild sled rides under his belt all in the hopes that a child would see him. He was practically a master at this, aside from the occasional flyaway couch that still caused him problems and ruined his plans. Letting the wind carry him along beside them, he navigated the path of ice out of the woods. Though gravity wanted to bring the young children down the steep incline near the water, Jack laughed in its face. Picking up speed, the children slipped along behind him.

As the sled picked up more and more speed and began to take wilder turns, the boy began to scream despite his resolve. The screaming was so loud that Jack had a feeling he wouldn't even need to tell North he was coming or why.

Sure enough, North, several yetis, and a veritable horde of elves were all waiting outside the workshop when Jack and his young charges skidded to a stop in front of them.

The boy immediately fell silent, desperately panting for breath and giving Jack a moment to explain.

"Jack," North began, looking over the young boy before him, "What is going on?"

"I found them wandering alone in the woods. I think they need help. At the very least, I needed to stop them from freezing to death," Jack explained, but North's brow was still lifted slightly. "Since they can't see me and I can't touch them," he gestured to the impromptu slide he had created, "I didn't know how else to get them here."

North bellowed a laugh and clapped Jack on the back. "Very good, Jack, A for effort," he said.

The young boy finally found his voice and now eyed the massive Russian before him. For a moment, he was silent. Then, he breathed out, "Santa Claus?"

Then, he went quiet, watching North closely. He was also probably wondering why he seemed to be talking to himself. Or maybe why he had a slew of large furry creatures at his back. Or maybe why there was an army of small jingling elves surrounding his ankles. Or, heck, maybe he was wondering how on earth he and the little girl had even gotten here from the dark woods.

Jack had only a vague idea of what the boy was thinking and he didn't want to share that knowledge with his companion. Honestly, he was hoping he was wrong.

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