A/N: I should probably being writing chapter 4 of Feelings, but I seem to have obtained writer's block on that story. So instead. I chose to write a depressing oneshot. Yay angst! So I read a headcannon somewhere on tumblr that adults (People that are 18 and up) lose the ability to see the Guardians and make them tangible, whether they believe or not.. At the same time, I felt like writing something dark and something different, and so this came out. (Although the fact that it's angsty isn't really all that different, lol.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.
It's coming, and it won't stop, not for anything or anyone.
Jack knows that this was bound to happen someday. He oh-so-desperately wishes that the day would never come, that time would be kind and keep a certain brown-haired person a child forever.
At first, it really didn't seem like much. North had warned him not to get too attached, because all of the children would eventually grow up and lose faith. And Jack had brushed the inevitable threat off, not wanting to believe it for an instant. After all, Jamie was only twelve at the time.
But twelve soon became thirteen, and thirteen melded into fourteen, and fourteen turned to fifteen, and fifteen adopted the title of sixteen, and finally, the not-so-young believer was seventeen years old.
Jack tried not to worry. He tried to delude himself into thinking that Jamie would somehow retain his belief. He tried to ignore the sympathetic looks he would get from the rest of the Guardians. He tried to block out the calenders, and dates, and months, and weeks, and hours, and minutes, and seconds, and the ever-present tick tick tick tick of the clocks.
He tried, he really did.
However, it wasn't enough. Not that he ever expected it to be enough, anyways.
Tick tick tick tick.
It's too fast.
And the day is getting closer and closer, and the weeks are flying by at a hundred miles per hour, and the clocks taunt him with those twelve numbers so perfectly aligned in a circle, and the tick tick tick tick ticking just won't stop, and North finally pulls him into the office for a short talk, and it's always the ticking, always the tick tick tick tick ticking, and he just wants it all to end.
But North is talking now, and North is saying things, bad things.
Jamie's birthday is coming up in a few months, North says.
Jack needs to distance himself from the boy, North says.
Maybe he should find a different child to be close friends with, North says.
Jack should remember that he's immortal, North says.
Jack should only do his job, not play with the kids, North says.
And the clock is watching, and always ticking, and North is speaking, why is he still speaking, and Jamie's birthday is near, and Jack needs to do this, and Jack should do this, and tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tickticktickticktickticktick tick, and he's pulling at his hair and clutching his head and wants them to shut up, just shutupshutupshutupshutup, and somewhere in the haze of his mind and the ticking, always the ticking, he realizes that...
He doesn't care.
But he does.
He cares a lot.
Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick.
It's here.
He floats through the open window, carrying a few flakes of snow inside the house with him. He makes his way through the maze of of dirty clothes, trash, and other discarded items. The shock of unruly brown hair is soon visible, it's owner sitting on an unmade bed.
"Hey, Jamie." He is whispering, and he doesn't know why.
Jamie turns to face him with a smile. He doesn't realize what will soon occur; Jack never told him. With a nervous glance at the digital clock on the bedside table, the winter spirit forces a smile on his face.
(11:00, 11:00, 11:00. 11:00)
Jack can almost here the mocking chant of the clock. Jamie stares at him uncertainly, seeing the painful smile on Jack's face.
"Is...something wrong?"
Brown eyes meet blue, and Jack relents. Jamie has to know, after all. With a heavy sigh, Jack takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
(11:05, 11:05, 11:05, 11:05)
He runs a pale hand through white hair as he muses on how to explain the predicament.
"Jamie," Jack begins, and he can tell that Jamie is surprised at the seriousness of his tone. "You're...almost eighteen. In fact, you'll be eighteen at midnight."
"Yes..."
"Remember how your mom couldn't see me? Or your dad?"
"It was because they were adults, right?"
"Exactly. And you, you're about to be eighteen...which happens to be the age in which you are considered an adult."
(11:15, 11:15, 11:15, 11:15)
Jamie's expression is one of horror. "You...you...you mean that I'll never see you again? Ever? But you're my best friend! I can't lose you! Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?!"
(11:20, 11:20, 11:20, 11:20)
(tick tick tick tick tick tick)
The clocks are definitely laughing at him now.
Jack grimaces and looks away, tears stinging his eyes. Jamie continues his frenzied tirade.
"No, no, no, nononononno, I won't let this happen! I-I'll never stop believing! Age isn't a factor here!" Jamie has begun to pace around his room, his hands trembling violently and drops of water falling from his eyes.
Jack grabs the boy's arms and forces him to stand still. He won't allow Jamie to be deluded, like he did with himself.
"Jamie. Jamie. Jamie, listen to me." Jack uses his free hand to tilt Jamie's bowed head up, staring into his eyes. "You can't stop this, no one can. It's a rule, one that will never be bent or broken." He takes a shaky breath in, forcing his voice to sound calm.
(11:30, 11:30, 11:30, 11:30)
(tickticktickticktickticktick tickticktickticktickticktick tick)
"I know that this is going to be hard for you, but don't worry. I'll never be truly gone. Wherever it's cold or snowy, a part of me is there. Wherever there is fun, I'm there. That's why you need to stay strong. You need to do this for me. For you. For us. Can you do that? Can you live the rest of your life out, having fun?"
Jamie sniffles and hastily wipes his eyes, nodding. He suddenly wraps his arms around Jack's waist and hugs him tight, acting like the little kid he was, so many years ago.
(11:35, 11:35, 11:35, 11:35)
(ticktickticktick tickticktickticktickticktick ticktickticktick)
They break apart and sit in silence for a long while before Jack decides to break the silence.
"Hey, Jamie, can you promise me something?"
(11:45, 11:45, 11:45, 11:45)
(tickticktickticktickticktick )
"Depends on what it is."
"Promise me that when you have kids, and yes, you will have kids, that you'll tell them about us. Tell them about Santa and the Tooth Fairy. Tell them about the Sandman and the Easter Bunny. Tell them about me. But most importantly, tell them about the big, bad, scary Bogeyman. Tell them the story of how he hides under beds and gives kids nightmares. And tell them that fear isn't real, that they have nothing to be afraid of. Because in reality, they don't."
Jamie listens intently. "Is that all?"
Jack bites his lip. "Promise me...promise me that you'll never forget. Always remember your childhood. Always remember...well...me."
(11:55, 11:55, 11:55, 11:55)
(tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tickticktickticktick)
"I will." Jamie looks down to see his hand in Jack's. He must have unconsciously grabbed the spirit's hand while listening. Jack doesn't seem to mind, though.
The pair sit and wait, staring up at the moon.
(11:59)
(11.59)
(11:59)
(11:59)
(tick. tick. tick. tick.)
They wait for time to split a permanent rift between two best friends.
(11:59)
(11:59)
(11:59)
(12:00)
Jamie feels Jack's grip loosen. He looks over, only to see him fading away.
"...Promise me you'll never forget..."
(ticktickticktickticktick)
(ticktickticktick)
(tick, tick, tick)
(tick)
(12:01)
A cold wind blows through the room and the window slams shut. Jamie climbs back into bed and pulls the cover up to his neck.
"...I promise."
A/N: I saw all those happy Jamie and Jack stories, and I had to write this depressing one, lol. I don't know how old Jamie is, so I picked twelve, which was the first number that popped in my head. (Probably because I'm twelve.) If I made anyone sad with this story, then oops.
I'm thinking about doing a sort of follow-up to this. Should I?