I own literally squat; all the things Rise of the Guardians belong to Dreamworks and William Joyce and whatnot.
"Hey, little ankle biter."
Sophie wormed her way out of her bed, squealing with excitement. Tiny feet pattered directly to Bunny, who held out his arms for an embrace.
"Bunny!" Sophie said in greeting.
Bunny smiled in spite of himself, laughing. "Glad to see you too. Brought you something."
He reached into his pouch, pulling free a beautifully decorated egg. Sophie cooed, reaching for the egg while hopping up and down in excitement. A blinding smile lit up her eyes, and she hugged Bunny again. Bunny gave her a nuzzle, reluctant to part from his favorite believer. But he had business here – namely, business that involved a certain cold spirit.
"Alright, you. Did you say hi to Jack when he came through?"
"Jack Jack Jack!" Sophie responded, before she seemed to remember something. "Bunny? Jack owie." Bunny frowned, leaning down to Sophie's level, not comprehending. Sophie pulled away, tugging on the Pooka's paw insistently. "Jack owie!" she shrieked.
Still puzzled, Bunny let the child lead him through the house. As Sophie reached the stairs, she pointed down, and looked up at Bunny.
"Jack owie," she said in a stage whisper.
Something tugged at Bunny's instincts then, and he sniffed the air, suddenly alert. A lurch met his gut when he caught an unmistakable scent of blood. His hand crept to one of his boomerangs, before he remembered that Sophie was present.
"You stay here, okay?" he told the child, giving her head a gentle pat.
"Okay. Jack owie."
"I'll find him, don't you worry. Stay put now, you little tyke."
Hoping that Sophie would obey, Bunny began creeping downstairs, now drawing that boomerang. He continuously sniffed the air in the house, and as he reached the lower stairs, he saw blood stains on the ground. A specific pattern, of bare feet.
"Jack?" he called quietly. "Where you at, mate?"
His ears caught the sound of movement – and a whimper, so soft that it was barely audible. Bunny threw caution to the wind, recognizing the pain that had been in that tone. He bounded down the hallway, and came into the kitchen.
Jack wasn't difficult to miss most days; today, his presence was made ever more clear by the fact that he lay curled on his side, clutching a dark stain on his sweater.
"Jack!" Bunny ran to him anxiously. "What happened?"
The boy didn't answer, and in the semi-dark, Bunny saw that his eyes were glazed over with pain. Taking as much care as he could, Bunny drew Jack's hands away from the blood stain, and examined the injury closely. His eyes widened; Jack's hoodie was split by a fine, long cut, and underneath, a wound to match the tear took up part of Jack's chest. It was deep, and wide, and spewing out blood with every heartbeat.
Bunny instantly threw down his paw, compressing the wound. Jack gave a strangled cry, and his hands found Bunny's fur. The grip he gave hurt, as he tried to yank the Pooka's paw away, but Bunny ignored this.
"Stay still, Jack," he ordered, reaching back to his holster with one arm. "Gotta stop the bleeding, mate."
"Get off me!" Jack choked.
"Can't do that. The wound needs pressure, so you'll just have to toughen up for a mo'," Bunny found what he was looking for in his pack, and drew out a beige-colored cloth. "Why don't you tell me how the hell you got this?"
"Nightmare," Jack managed. "Wanted Sophie. Stopped it. Attacked me. Destroyed it."
Bunny nodded. "Good on ya, mate."
"Hurts."
"I know. Just gimme a sec, alright?"
Bunny unwound the long cloth, then moved Jack's arm again, so he could lift the boy's sweater. Jack gave a shudder as his clothes pulled away from some of the dried blood around his injury, and for a moment, he looked more pale than Bunny had ever imagined possible. Working as quickly as he could, Bunny began winding the cloth around Jack's middle, pushing past the boy's whines.
He was so caught up in trying to keep the bandage tight that he didn't notice the soft patter of feet behind him, until it was too late. Sophie, being a young and intrepid explorer, had grown impatient waiting for her Bunny, and had made her precarious way downstairs. Now, she approached Jack, looking scared. Both Guardians saw her, and Jack made an attempt to hide the pain from his expression, while Bunny used both paws to cover the blood-stained bandage.
"Jack," Sophie bleated. "Jack owie!"
"I-It's okay, Sophie," Jack gasped, forcing a wide smile. "I'm okay."
"No! Jack owie!"
Unbidden, tears rolled down her cheeks. Bunny made as if to reach for her, but Sophie was too quick, and another few, unsteady steps later, she dropped and wrapped her arms around Jack's neck, hugging him tightly.
"No more owie," she said sternly.
Despite his agony, Jack reached up with a shaking hand, and returned the child's hug. He suppressed another violent shiver as Bunny applied a second layer of bandages. Sophie felt that shiver, and, taking after the adults she'd seen, pulled out of the hug, and began clumsily petting Jack's hair, speaking the sweet nonsense that only a small child could speak. Jack kept his smile for her, a grateful smile, and he took one of the child's hands in his own.
"Thanks, Soph," he said, "That feels a lot better."
Then Bunny shifted him again, to wrap the bandage off, and Jack couldn't keep the facade. He tried to suppress his next cry, his eyes clamping shut, but it was too much for him, and with another shudder, the air left his lungs, as he fainted. His mouth fell open, and his head dropped to the side, while his hand slid down from Sophie with a light thump. Sophie's frenetic petting of his head increased.
"Bunny, Jack sleepy," Sophie reported in her loud whisper, ignorant of the significance.
Bunny looked up, alarmed, and grimaced, seeing Jack fall still. He kept his ear open, listening to Jack's even breathing and heartbeat. He quickly pulled some wipes from his pack, cleaning his paws fervently, before he set a hand on the little girl's back.
"Sleepy," Sophie told him again, pointing at Jack.
"Yeah, he's... he's sleepy. I bet you're tuckered out, too, eh? Let's get you back to bed."
"Jack bed too."
"Okay. We'll put Jack to bed, too. How does that sound?"
Sophie giggled, then yawned widely, before reaching out for Bunny. Bunny picked her up, and she squeaked as he shifted her in his arms.
"Jack bed too!" she insisted.
"I'll get him to bed next," Bunny promised her. "He'll be okay here for now."
Sophie was either too tired or satisfied enough with this answer, as Bunny made haste up the stairs. He didn't like to leave Jack down there, unconscious, but as a Guardian, he didn't want Sophie to continue seeing how badly hurt the younger Guardian was. In her way, Sophie was already nearly asleep again regardless, and Bunny set her gently back down on her bed, tucking her in. She gave another grand yawn, rubbing her eyes.
"Sleep tight, little ankle biter," Bunny purred.
He waited a moment, to be sure she didn't climb out of bed to run after him, then pulled the door closed, and raced back downstairs.
He froze a few feet from Jack when he saw the shadow.
A nightmare, presumably a different one from the one Jack had defeated, stood menacingly over the young winter spirit. One of its hooves was raised, and had distorted into an inky, razor-sharp claw. When it heard Bunny approach, it lowered the claw to the boy's neck, and met the Pooka's eyes with its own, hellish gaze. Bunny stood at his full height, putting his own menace into his posture. One paw itched for his boomerangs, and both he and the nightmare knew he could draw those weapons in the blink of an eye.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
The smarmy drawl came from the nightmare, and Bunny stiffened.
"Pitch! What do you think you're doing here?!"
"Technically, I'm not here. Silly rabbit."
He was speaking through the nightmare, Bunny realized. Not one of his recent tricks. He wondered, briefly, if that meant the Nightmare King was returning to some hidden power, but he brushed away the thought, as his gaze flickered to Jack's helpless form.
"Get away from him." Bunny's voice was low; dangerous.
"Now, why would I do that? It's such an excellent opportunity for me! You're not afraid for the boy, surely?"
Bunny kept silent, and Pitch chuckled, making his hair stand on end. They both knew the answer, even if Bunny wouldn't admit it in normal settings.
"What do you want, Pitch?"
"I merely came at the beckoning of an interruption of my work. You see, I was happily minding my own business, living on the scraps you and your merry band had left me to, when I felt a wonderful surge of fear. I simply had to come see!"
"I'm not afraid of you or your shadows."
"Who says it was your fear I came for?" another dark chuckle, and the nightmare's blade turned into a silky, long-fingered hand, which reached down to run through Jack's hair, in a mockery of Sophie's earlier action.
Bunny drew his boomerangs then, taking immediate advantage of the change. Before Pitch's nightmare voice box had time to react, the Pooka had thrown both, landing direct hits on the creature. There was a high-pitched shriek from the nightmare, and an irritated roar from Pitch, both of which faded, along with the shade. The boomerangs returned to Bunny's paws with ease.
He didn't hesitate any longer. Bounding for Jack, he quickly lifted the boy off the ground, cradling him close with one arm, before picking up the discarded staff, and tapping the floor with his hind paw. Jack only gave the slightest of moans, stirring a little, but not waking.
"Hang in there, mate," Bunny told him, as he jumped.
When Jack woke up, the first thing he did was roll to his side. It was the slightest thing; his mind had him somewhere in a snowbank, and his thoughts surged only to how much fun he was missing by sleeping.
Then, the pain struck him, as he fell from a short height. He screamed as he hit the ground, feeling an intense, throbbing agony from his chest. The pain immobilized him, and he lay gasping, clutching at the source. His fingers found not the familiar cloth of his sweater, but bare skin, followed by some foreign, tight cloth.
He looked down, and upon seeing a blood-soaked bandage, began to shake, chills running up and down his body. He gave a small start as, somewhere, from the other side of the bed, he heard a door open, followed by a confused grunt. A pair of hairy feet appeared in Jack's vision, though they were oddly blurry.
"Thought I heard a shriek," Bunny muttered, crouching down by him. "Sounded like some drongo trying to get out of bed when he's not fit to."
Jack scowled up at Bunny, but couldn't keep it up for long, as the Pooka lifted him up, and back into the bed. The pain in his chest surged nauseatingly, and Jack swallowed hard.
"Oi. Don't you yak on my coat," Bunny cautioned. "Take some deep breaths. I haven't gotten to giving you painkillers yet."
"Where are we?" Jack rasped.
"The Warren. Brought you here after you fainted like a little fairy."
"I'm telling Tooth you said that."
"Ha, good luck with that. You're not going anywhere for the time being. You need to rest."
"I'm fine, it's just a scratch."
"Rubbish. You're hurt fair dinkum. Besides, speaking of Tooth, she'd prolly kill me anyway if she found out I let you wander around when you're like this."
Jack opened his mouth to argue, but a stern look from Bunny silenced him, and he took to pouting, instead. Bunny gave a worn sigh, then brought something out of his pouch.
"Here. Take both, and drink that whole glass with them," he handed a pair of pills to Jack, before gesturing to a glass on the bedside table. "They'll make you loopy, but the pain will bugger off for awhile, too."
Jack reluctantly obeyed, his hand frosting over the glass as he downed the water. He took a few moments to breathe, trying to urge away the pain, his eyes shut in concentration. Bunny observed him in silence.
"If you keep staring at me, I'll freeze your face like that," Jack said, after some time, looking up at the older Guardian.
"You scared the living Christ outta me, Jack."
Jack stared. That had been an admission. From Bunny, of all people. But, studying him, Jack realize it was the truth. He blushed, finally drawing his gaze away, and brought a hand up to toy with the bandage.
"Thanks for helping me."
"Don't pick at it. And... you're welcome, mate."
AN: This was created from the absolutely overwhelming desire to have Sophie say, "Jack owie" at some point in a story. I am also an unrepentant stickler for all things hurt/comfort. MiM have mercy on your soul, Jack Frost.
