CHAPTER ONE~

[Jack's very first believer was as much of a myth as he was.]

"What's wrong, Frostbite?"

The teen visibly flinched, quickly rubbing his wrists across his eyes. "Wr-wrong? Nothing, nothing's wrong, why would something be-" he hiccupped, wiping his nose. "Wrong…?"

"You're…not really one to cry," Bunnymund crouched beside the frost sprite, gently nudging him. "What's up, mate?"

"Nothing," Jack shot him a dark look out of the corner of one bloodshot eye, half his face hidden behind the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"Jack," Bunnymund fixed him with a knowing look, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Just holding it in isn't good for you, you know."

Stiff for a brief second more, Jack sighed heavily, raking a hand through his thick white hair. "Yeah…you would know, wouldn't you…"

With a shallow nod, the Pooka settled down beside the slim sprite, feet extended out in front of them. "You could say that, yeah. So…what is it?"

"I…" Jack swallowed and looked away, harshly biting his lower lip. "Well, a…a whole bunch of years ago, I…did have. I had this one believer -I had a Believer. Someone who believed in -in Jack Frost."

Bunnymund's eyebrows knit together, and he cocked his head to the side. "That's…something to cry about…?"

"No, it's-" Jack sighed, rubbing the fingertips of one hand over his lips. "It's…" he swiped the tears from his eyes, taking a shaky breath. "You've heard the story of 'The Little Match Girl,' right?"

Both of the Pooka's eyebrows shot up. "I've- of course I have, Jacko, how could I have not? It's been around for- for centuries."

Jack smiled painfully, closing his eyes. "Yeah," he said tightly. "I know. Oh, I know…"

"She…" Bunnymund frowned thoughtfully, regarding the teary sprite. "She actually existed?"

"'Course she did," Jack swatted at the Pooka's arm, scowling at him. "Her name was Sarah…"

Jack cocked his head to the side, regarding the girl with curly brown hair crouched in the mouth of the alley. He drifted closer, staff held across his back.

She shivered spasmodically, scraping the first match against the brick wall. Cupping a hand around the bright flame, she held it close to her face.

Frowning, Jack touched down beside her, staff held behind his back. "Why are you out here all alone?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

The girl fixed him with a curious look, a harsh shiver wracking her slender frame. "I'm sorry?"

Jack stared at her uncomprehendingly. "You can see me-? No, of course not, why could she see me…? Pft…"

"No, I see you," she frowned, reaching out a slim, slightly shaking hand. "Why wouldn't I be able to? Are you some sort of ghost?" She laughed softly, rolling her eyes.

"You- you can see me?!" Jack asked incredulously, breaking out into a bright, joyous grin. "No one can ever see me! Wow! What's your name?"

"Sarah," she smiled, dropping the match into the cold slush around her feet -clad in the ragged remains of some cloth- before lighting another. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Jack," he smiled, shuffling a little closer. "Jack Frost."

The girl's eyes widened almost comically. "Jack-? You- you really do exist, then? Wow, oh, I always knew it!"

Jack laughed, "yup, that's me. Jack Frost. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sarah."

"Please, just Sarah is fine," she said, a shudder wracking her whole frame.

"And- why are you out here, Sarah?" Jack scowled, watching her light another match. "Don't you have a home to get to?"

She shook her head, averting her gaze. "No… I haven't had a home to call my own for many a year, now… I have gotten used to it, I suppose." Sarah shrugged, touching the head of a match to her already lit one.

"But -what happened to your family?" Jack's eyebrows knit together and he leaned forward, hands clasped tight in his lap.

"Died," Sarah said shortly. "It's just me left now, and…" she coughed -a ragged, rough, hacking sound that made Jack's throat hurt just hearing it. "I don't think there'll even be that for much longer."

"But-" Jack's eyes rounded. "You- you can't die! I only just met you!"

"Death waits on no one, Jack Frost," Sarah said thickly, swallowing. Her mouth tasted of blood.

He cried. Frozen tears slid down his cheeks, dropping like crystal on the ground.

"Oh, Jack…" Sarah sighed, reaching out to gently cup his cheek. She ignored the way his flesh was so cold it burned, knowing that she would not be alive long enough for the frostbite to kill her. "Don't cry; I'll be better. You know as well as I-" she coughed again, her matches tumbling from weak fingers.

Jack leapt to rescue them from the slush, shaking the bundle out and quickly passing them back. "Here, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying, you're the one who's-"

"Sh," she pressed a fingertip to his lips. "Calm, Jack Frost…"

"I…just wish that there was something I could do to make it easier," he sighed, feeling useless. "But all I am is cold- I can't do anything to help you."

"…Tell me a story, Jack," Sarah asked, lighting her matches. She wouldn't need them for much longer anyway. "Please?"

"I…okay," Jack settled down to get more comfortable, leaning against the wall beside her, his staff propped up next to him. "I'll try my best."

"Thank you, Jack Frost," Sarah smiled adoringly, curling up next to him. She struggled to keep her matches lit, her hands trembling from the invasive cold.

But she didn't care.

"Well…once upon a time," Jack began, closing his hands around hers to keep the flame steady, so the girl would not burn herself. He knew what to do. He hated himself for it, but he knew what to do.

He hated even more that this was not the first time he had done it, nor, he knew, would it be the last.

"Um, what sort of story do you want…?" he asked carefully, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

"A happy one," Sarah told him, staring at the flickering flame with an almost hypnotic intensity. "With happy people."

So Jack spun her a fanciful web glistening with joy and happiness; content families gathered around warm fires, plentiful food, and song in the air.

He lit her matches for her, one by one by one, when her hands grew too numb to light them herself.

"Thanks," Sarah murmured sleepily, head on his shoulder.

Humming, Jack shifted to allow her to get more comfortable, one hand going around her slender shoulders. "Anytime, Sarah…"

"If…" Jack hiccupped, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. "If I hadn't been…waiting for it, for her to- I don't th-think I would have…have even noticed. She was just so cold and still, Bunny…! But she was just so peaceful, she coulda been as-sleep!"

"…Oh, Jack…" Bunnymund said softly, reaching out to gently touch the boy's cheek. "I…had no idea…"

"I'm just so useless, Bunny," Jack sobbed, hands pressed to his face. "Damn it, all I can do is bring cold and death! Cold and death, cold and death! 'Jack Frost claims another life,' 'Another one lost to Jack Frost!' Bunny, it hurts, knowing that I can't help anyone. All I can do is kill kill kill, frostbite, death, missing limbs…! Fuck… What am I, evil?"

"Now, Snowdrop," Bunnymund admonished gently, carefully pulling the immortal teenager to himself in a loose, comforting hug. "You're not evil, trust me. You could never be evil. You're one of the nicest people I know, and I know a lot of nice people. You don't bring death, death comes on its own."

Jack scoffed, coughing a little on the phlegm, but burrowed closer to the Pooka's warmth. "How would you know? You're a giant rabbit."

"I'm a warrior, mate," Bunnymund said gently, tucking Jack's head under his chin. "I used to kill for a living, remember?"

"…Oh," Jack said finally, hands clenching in Bunnymund's fur. "I never thought about that…"

"I try not to," Bunnymund shook his head, rubbing Jack's back comfortingly. "It's…not a particularly pleasant part of my past."

"Yeah…but that's different," Jack said, sitting up. "You killed because you had to. I kill and I don't mean to."

"Ah, but that right there's the point, Jacko," Bunnymund smiled gently. "You never mean to. It's not your fault. And with Sarah- if you hadn't been there, it would most likely have only been a long, cold night of slow suffering, waiting for the end to come. But with you there to help her, she…all it was, was her falling asleep. A gentle sort of passing. You see me?"

Jack looked down, curling back against the Pooka's broad, strong chest. "I…guess so. I think I see what you mean."

"You helped her, Snowflake," Bunnymund said softly, rocking back and forth, lulling the sprite into a doze. "Trust me on this. I remember her Hope, now. A sweet thing, so bright at the end. You gave her hope, Jack."

The winter sprite shook his head, but smiled, his crystalline tears dripping to melt into Bunnymund's thick grayish-silver fur. "Thanks, Bunny. I needed that…"

"I know you did, Snowdrop," Bunnymund said. "I know…"