Away from Thin Ice
A/N: Disclaimer. Obviously not mine. Not the characters, not the movie, not the story line.
Old Man North, extensive list taker, deliverer of Christmas, guardian of wonder, found himself stumped. "Jack? What are you doing with him?" He growled, gesturing roughly with one long curving blade. "That is Pitch Black. He is enemy, remember."
"What I have to do." Jack wouldn't look up to meet their eyes.
Bunny took the opportunity to put his own two sense in. "I knew the kid couldn't be trusted. Irresponsible! I bet he never even cared for the children."
"Bunny, please!" It was Tooth's turn now to step forward. This didn't make any sense. Jack was a good boy. His teeth were flawless, and now he stood against them, not only getting in the way of their work, but defending Pitch Black.
Jack kept his face iced against the force of their questions and in Bunny's case ranting accusations. They didn't understand. Heck, he hadn't either, but he at least had a good excuse for no seeing something so obvious. Guardians? Ha. What did they guard; what did they know? Jack had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes as his new associate took some time to gloat, safely behind Jack's dense wall of ice of course. Jack tuned the monologue out in favor of keeping an eye on that boomerang Bunny had been eagerly fingering since the guardians arrived.
"Surprised?" Pitch began, "Well, I am afraid you will just have to accustomed yourselves to this soon enough. For you see Jack here has made what is by far the wisest decision by joining with me instead of your merry little band of hall monitors. Now what does you lunar boss think of his new little project now? So sad when a child does not turn out as one expects." Pitch gave a falsely commiserating sigh, glee sparkling in the depths of his coal colored eyes. "Oh well, I suppose—"
"Pitch. Are you done?" Jack interrupted, voice like chipped ice. "I'm leaving. Collect your little ponies and lets go." As quickly as it had appeared, the ice was gone and jack was carried upward with the wind, leaving the nightmare king once again vulnerable to the attacks of the guardians. It was only the disorientation of everyone present, bar the snow child, that postponed the inevitable barrage.
The boogey man composed himself and hopped quickly into one of his shadow holes. He sank directly through to his hide out and closed the path before more than a few golden granules of Sandy's whip could brush the hem of his sleeve.
Jack's departure wasn't quite so instantaneous. With surprising forethought on their part, North's troop of thick haired, burly sleigh tuggers cut in front of the winter spirit and reared with hooves larger than his head. The momentary delay cost him his nonchalant retreat, not that he was expecting much different. Especially not any help from his new so called partner.
Jack's face remained passive and unbothered by his thwarted flight. Though, the glowing net that caught his ankle and the return of the dreaded bag over his head when he hit the ground were far from welcome.
Yeah the guardians, one in particular, were still annoyed with him over Easter, but this was too much of a change in the carefree almost guardian. They did not know what Pitch did to the boy that should have been their new member, but they intended to find out.
What happened to Jack, well he would tell you. It's not a secret or anything. He just got his memories back.
"Poor, poor Jack Frost. All alone and ignored for three hundred years. No friends, no believers, no memories. Don't you want to know why, Jack? Why this happened and you are the way you are. Aren't you curious?" Pitch circled the small figure crouched in the snow. What a strange staff the boy had. Innocuous as it was on the outside, Pitch could feel the frosty power thrumming within. He span the stolen staff idly between his fingers, enjoying the powerlessness of the strong spirit at his feet.
"Give it back, Pitch. I gave you my answer. I'm not interested, so you can keep your creepy, megalomaniacal impulses to yourself. Oh, and if you could disappear back into that hole you crawled out of that would be great, thanks." Clearly Jack wasn't exactly in a good place to be making snarky demands, but, hey, faked bravado was almost as good as the real thing, right. After being tricked into finding his teeth, ruining Easter, and getting kicked out of the guardians, Jack really hadn't been in the mood to deal with the creeper king himself. Losing his staff to that jerk was just icing on the metaphorical crap cake.
"You wound me Jack. Truly you do. You call me crazy, but am I truly so different from the guardians? The dark ages were fun, but I've had my fill of ruling this pathetic world. Plus, rampant fear in an age like this would not work nearly as well as it did then. Trembling fingers tend to press explosive buttons after all. No, Jack, I have no desire to take over the world. I do, however, want you by my side."
"And I've said no! Do you not know what the word means? Even if you managed to get me to the top of the guardians' most hated list, I still won't side with you. There's nothing you can do to change that." Jack flopped carelessly onto his back in the snow. Pitch was too busy trying to talk him to death to really attack at this point. All the tension and adrenaline of battle had worn off, and Jack just wanted to curl up under the snow drifts and sleep for a good long while.
The boy was obstinate, Pitch thought. No matter, he hadn't brought forth his trump card yet.
"Nothing I can do, you say?" He dug around in his voluminous shadowy sleeves. "What if I were to give you back these?"
Jack jerked up in shock and dug around in his own pocked. When had Pitch…?
At some point or other, Pitch had picked the canister of tooth memories off of Jack and was now holding them out as one would a hefty bribe.
"Shall I show you how to open them?"
"No. I want nothing from you." That was a lie. Jack knew it, and Pitch could read the wanting plain as day on the youth's face.
"Come now, Jack. Do not be stubborn now after all you have lost in their pursuit. You want to find out who and why you are. Take them."
Jack's unease grew. "What are you playing at, Pitch?"
"Me? Nothing, my dear. They are your memories, I swear, completely untampered with. That is the best part, after all. I need do nothing to get you to join my side. You will help me because your own silly little conscience will tell you too. In the end, I know you will do what you must to protect the children."
Jack scoffed. "Like anything your involved in would be good for kids. I'm calling your bluff, Pitch."
"Then you have nothing to fear." He returned smoothly.
That sparked Jack's temper, tipping the balance ever so slightly away from suspicion "I'm not afraid of you!"
"Then why not take your memories?"
"It's a trap, that's why!"
"I have assured you it's not."
"Like I'd believe that."
"What have you got to lose, Jack?"
Nothing. Jack had nothing left and nowhere to go. He doubted he'd ever be allowed at the North Pole again, not that he ever really was before the whole guardian thing. He still had zero believers, so it's not like that would change. So far, Pitch was the only other spirit to have shown any interest in being around the ice bringer, and the debacle with the guardians wasn't likely to increase his reputation any. Jack had nothing to lose…except for his memories. That's what decided it. He would be walking away with something from this confrontation. It's not like a couple of memories would turn him as evil as Pitch, he justified. He'd look at the memories then wash his hands of the nightmare king for good.
Jack's hand reached toward the offered case, not seeing the victorious smirk on Pitch's face till he had fallen in.
They were ice skating in November, still pretty early in the winter season, but she was just so eager, and her big brother loved to indulge her. Who could say no to those big, brown puppy dog eyes! His little sister was the most adorable toddler in the village, and he was going to take her skating.
Not to brag or anything, but everyone and their mother knew that that Overland boy was the best skater in the village. Whether it was speeding, leaping, or even twirling about, he could carve figure 8's around anyone, and he knew it. Hence, who better than he to teach his sweet little sissy the ways of the ice?
Neither of the siblings had bothered to tell their mother they were going out. The pond was only an half hour's walk through the woods. All the kids went there some times for swimming in the summer, fishing in the fall, and of course skating in the winter. Most of the other's didn't venture out for that last bit until about mid December, so the boy was confident he and his sister would get the whole pond to themselves!
She ran ahead giggling at the frosted fir trees and jumping with a plop into one particularly fluffy mound of snow. Her nose was red and her cheeks flushed, but she was as always eager to spend time outside with her big brother. She hoped she could move as prettily as he did on the ice, and she told him so too.
He huffed offended in response. He would be a man in another year or two. Tough men weren't pretty. They were handsome or cool!
Well, she thought he was pretty. And that thought earned her a gentle snowball to the head as the two sibling chased each other merrily to the pond.
Just like every year, the view from the bank was amazing! This year, the surface looked especially sparkling and glassy.
The boy made his way slowly from the edge of the woods, looking fondly in the direction of his sister some ways further down finishing the knot on her second skate. He was proud. He taught her how to tie knots a couple weeks ago, and the smart girl had picked up on it like a champ as she did on most things he took the time to show her.
The boy breathed a deep breath as he took in the bright blue of the sky, the rustling of animals in the woods, and the clean smell of late autumn air. What a fine day they had on their hands.
His little sister began wobbling her way out onto the ice all by herself. She squiggled forward with knees knocking together and arms spread like a little bird about to take flight.
The boy, still on the frozen mud of the bank, began pulling off his own shoes to replace them with his favorite ol' skates. Whoops, he must have tied the laces too tightly together last time he hung them up. He picked the knot apart slowly, so as to not fray the fragile threads. His toes in the meantime curled up, already having turned a stinging red from the harsh chill of the frosty ground.
When the first crack split the air, he thought a branch had snapped from a tree. The second was accompanied by a sad whimper from the ice.
The boy froze. Then he was running toward the center of the pond where his little sister, his baby sister, stood hunched with tear filled eyes and her big brother's name on her lips.
"Jack."
He had been so stupid! Why had he not checked the ice? Why had he not thought to warn anyone where they would be? Why had he thought it was a good idea to take his sweet little sister into the dangers of the woods?
There were more cracks. And a shatter. He had been too focused on fun, and he cursed himself for it. A beautifully curved staff sank deep into the water.
One of the children died, and the other was crying, crying until her voice faded away under the depths of the water. Who knew what happened to the other, but hopefully she didn't fall under too. Hopefully she stayed far, far away from November ponds and thin ice.
Jack resurfaced with the gasp of a drowning man taking in air. He let out a mirthless laugh. Where were the guardians of childhood then? His white haired head and tired blue eyes snapped to the side at the unexpected sound of an unwanted voice.
"Welcome back, Jack Frost. So, have you changed you m—"
"I will never join you. Never." The spirit glared with venom. "But I will help you." The grim spirit of fun looked at the writhing mass of shadows with distaste. "Make no mistake, I will be watching you. Take one step out of line, and I'll destroy every single one of your fearlings myself." With a burst of power, shards of razor ice spiked from Jack's staff, spearing both Pitch and several of his shadow creatures.
The nightmare king yelped at the sudden pain. Black whisps fell from the slowly sealing wound. He grabbed his injured hand none the less, dropping the activated staff which the wind picked up and delivered back to its proper wielder. He watched it go somewhat regretful at its loss, despite the fact that it would never work for him.
The staff was not a simple conduit of Jack's power, it was the reminder of a purpose he had forgotten. Yes, he was Fun, but more important than that he had a role that once he had almost failed. He had let his sister suffer under his watch. He would not let anything like that ever happen again. Jack would watch over the children because he more than anyone else saw the dangers of fun.
Unfortunately, for that end he needed Pitch Black. "I swear will make sure the children believe in you because…"
Something light and carefree shriveled inside of Jack at his vow, and the moon's claim on him snapped.
Jack, still tied with gold and threatened with the bag, eyed the veteran guardian's collected together in North's workshop. They started at him, trying to puzzle out whatever cruel manipulation Pitch had to have used on Jack. Tooth flittered about nervously; Sandy for once stood on his cloud wide awake; North stood ready to deploy his yetis while pushing away elves; and Bunny, as always, looked ready to bash Jack's downy white covered head in.
Jack finished his brief tale.
There wasn't any plot for once, but he doubted they would be able to understand. The guardians weren't his enemies, but for his choices, he could not be their comrade. Jack called upon his ice to slice through his bindings. This wouldn't be the last time he'd have to deal with guardians' rough treatment, but he'd call it a day for now.
Maybe they heard his parting message as he flew too fast for them to follow through an unlocked window, but Jack doubted that in their naivety they'd actually understand.
"…children need Fear to warn them away from thin ice."