This story is not representative of the actual lives of the people mentioned herein. I do not own the characters Nicholas St North or Jack Frost, nor any material derived from the movie Rise of The Guardians.
PLEASE do not read if mentions of the 2012 December 14th Connecticut Sandy Hills Elementary School Massacre are triggering or painful for you. Thank you.
Nicholas St. North rubbed his eyes tiredly, letting out a heavy sigh. With scarcely a week left until Christmas, he had been working nearly non-stop, making sure that each gift was finished, wrapped, and ready to be loaded onto the sleigh. It was always the busiest time of year for him, and the thousands of last-minute changes certainly didn't help. Children, of course, changed their minds on a daily basis, and bringing each child exactly what they wanted was a more difficult task than anyone, even Bunny, knew. And of course, there were always kids who managed to jump from the naughty to the nice list, or vice versa, in the eleventh hour.
His thoughts were interrupted by a youthful voice behind him. "What are these?" Nicholas turned to see Jack standing by a small stack of presents (well, small by yeti and North standards), looking at them curiously. He poked one of the boxes with the end of his staff, making a patch of frost spiral across the wrapping paper.
Nicholas's heart was heavy as he came to stand behind Jack, resting a large hand on one thin shoulder. "They are presents that will not be delivered this year."
Jack frowned, confused. "What? Why not?"
Shaking his head, Nicholas regarded the pile. "They were built for children who did not make it to Christmas, Jack."
The younger Guardian sucked in a breath of surprise. "The- The shooting in Connecticut?"
Nicholas nodded. "Olivia was going to get new markers and crayons for the drawing," he gestured to a flat rectangular package in red and gold wrapping paper. "Noah almost wasn't going to get present this year. He pulled his sister's hair, but he said "sorry" and shared his dessert with her, so he ended up on nice list after all. He asked for new football." This time it was the green-wrapped box covered in red teddy bears resting on the top of the pile.
Jack reached down and picked up a present wrapped in white paper with gold and silver rocking horses. "What about this one?" He voice was soft.
"Jessica loved the horses very much. She wanted a cowgirl hat and little boots. The yetis worked very hard stitching tiny horses into leather of boots." Nicholas rested his other hand on top of Jessica's gift. "Every year, we lose some children. Sometimes it is accident, sometimes they get too sick. We cannot save every child. Some have tried, and it has driven them mad."
He shook his head again, squeezing Jack's shoulder gently. "There is always pile of gifts. But it is not usually this... large."
Jack swallowed, and Nicholas pretended not to noticed when his voice cracked a little when he replied. "Thanks for telling me, North. Do you mind- is it alright if I go visit Jamie for a while? Burgess hasn't had a snow day for a while, and I did promise one more big dump of snow before their vacation starts, so..."
Nicholas let go of the winter spirit's shoulder, and clapped him on the back instead, almost knocking him over by accident. "Good idea, Jack. The children could be using some fun right now." Jack left quickly, with a wave goodbye before he hopped out the window that had been left open to make the room more comfortable for him.
Shutting the window behind Jack, Nicholas turned back to the pile of presents. Jack would need some time to process the loss of those children, as would they all. Toothiana had taken to collecting the teeth of each child in Connecticut herself, instead of letting her helpers take the work. Sandy had been working overtime warding off nightmares, and Bunny had holed himself up in the Warren, throwing his grief into the preparations for Easter.
Being with Jamie and his friends would help Jack in two ways. Spending time with the kids in Burgess would reassure Jack that the children he cared for were alright, and having fun with them would give Jack something to focus on besides the tragedy.
Nicholas glanced up at the giant globe covered in billions of glowing golden lights. It had been a crushing blow to see so many lights wink out at once, first the shock and then the deep sadness at the knowledge of what had happened. He rested a large hand gently on the pile once more. "I am so sorry. Rest in peace, deti."
AN: The names used in this story are real names of some of the victims of the Connecticut massacre. This story is dedicated to them, as well as the other twenty- three victims. Rest in peace Olivia Engel, Noah Pozner, Jessica Rekos, Charlotte Bacon, Dylan Hockley, Jesse Lewis, Ana Marquez-Greene, Grace McDonnell, Emilie Parker, Daniel Barden, Josephine Gay, Madeleine Hsu, Catherine Hubbard, Chase Kowalski, James Mattiolo, Jack Pinto, CAtherine Previdi, Avielle Richman, Benjamin Wheeler, Allison Wyatt, Rachel D'Avino, Dawn Lafferty Hochsprung, Anne Marie Murphy, Lauren Rousseau, Mary Sherlach, and Victoria Soto. This story in no way is a resemblance of the actual lives of the children killed on Friday.
It has been said that fiction is one of the ways that we make sense of reality. Writing this story, though it is completely fictional, has helped me to understand and deal with what happened on December 14th. I hope that you feel the same way, and understand that I wish to honour the memories of these brave souls, not disrespect them. Thank you for reading.
Deti: Russian for "children" or "little ones".