I do not own Rise of the Guardians, or its characters.

What if E. Aster Bunnymud had a more severe reaction to children not believing in him, physically speaking? I don't mean shrinking and turning adorable, I mean getting seriously sick. After all, it will take him a whole year to recover, right? He can't re-do Easter Day. Santa has Christmas later that year, Jack is finally believed in, and Sandy and Tooth have already made their combacks becuase they work every night.

He felt the painful cold shoot through him, turning his veins into ice. A darkness was slowly spreading, mixing with the cold in the worst possible way imaginable. He stepped back, watching in horror as they brushed past him, walked through him, their eyes unseeing.

They can't see me? At first, all he had felt was confusion, but now that several children had walked through him, all he felt was fear and cold. They can't see me! They don't believe in me! They - They -

He felt his legs give out from under him, and his body curled into itself, in a desperate and vain hope of warding off these frightening feelings. This feeling of loneliness was crushing, forcing all the air out of his lungs - and he let it. The children continued to walked away from his and his meager eggs - the few that had somehow survived. He wanted to throw them, to smash them himself. What good had they done? The children no longer believed-

At the sound of Jack's voice, he tensed. When had that little -

"You were with Pitch?" When his ears finally quit buzzing and registered the conversation behind him, he didn't want to believe them, but years of experience told him what he was hearing was the truth. Somehow, knowing it was true eased him. It wasn't his fault. He tried to help Sandy, and had helped the Tooth fairy. Then, he had Easter the fallowing day. They had worked hard, had done their best and then some.

And then Frost had run off and let Pitch inside the Warren.

Bunnymud hadn't noticed the world around him darkening. But now that he did, his body began to ache. Fire was surging under his skin. He tried to stand, and the world swayed. His head began to spin, his vision blurring with bright colors and the color black. He pressed his paws into his eyes painfully. For a moment everything cleared. A swirl of cold air rushed through his fur, he saw Frost flying off out of the corner of his eye, and then everything went black.

-X-

The first thing he became aware of was the sound of wind whistling, but it sounded like screaming. Horrible, desperate, blood-curdling screams. He tried to blocked out the sound, his head turning to the side on its own accord. His body felt cold, but there was something hot boiling under his skin. The urge to vomit appeared as whatever he laid on shuttered violently. His head hit something hard as it re-settled. It pulled a groan from him.

Cool hands were on his forehead, a quiet voice urging him to open his eyes, "Hey. Are you awake? Please wake up. Please. Please."

He cracked his eyes to see Tooth's face inches from his own. Concern made her seem older and drawn, her face white and eyes brimming with tears. She smiled, though it was obviouse that something was seriously wrong. "Wha' -Wha' happened?"

"Everything will be fine." Her voice was hoarse, and he didn't believe her.

His stomach clenched when he saw open air above her head, the night sky that should be a dark blue and brimming with stars. He turned his head to see the back of Clause, without his robe. He flicked the reins and finally his mind made the connection - they were in the sleigh. His eyes returned to the sky. It was pitch black, not even the stars were shining. He glanced down and saw Santa's robe tucked around himself. He was laying on one of the sleigh's seats.

"What happened?" He demanded, his voice sounding small and quiet to his own ears. That was practically impossible - the last time his voice sounded like that, he had caught phenomena from the blizzard of '68 after delivering eggs.

"Everything will be fine, friend." Santa called over his shoulder, but his face was even more pale than Tooth's. It had lost its rosy color. His hair was limp.

Before he could answer, severe, sharp pain shot through his chest, brutally cut off his words. He began to wheeze, coughing horribly. He felt thin, delicate hands on his shoulders. Warmth flooded his mouth, tasting like an old penny, and he spat it out on the sleigh's floorboards. It was bright, and it was red.

"Where are we goin'?" It took everything he had not to pass or, or freak out. He forced calm onto his nerves as Tooth began crying. He wasn't going to just sit back and let the others fall apart around him. They needed to stick together -as much as he hated to admit that he needed their help - and protect the children.

But, what about Jack? Where was he?

He shook his head, ridding himself of that line of thinking. They didn't need to worry about that ankle-nipper. He was the one who had caused this after all, would-be guardian or not. He forced himself to listen to Santa.

"We go and protect last child who believes."

"Last kid?" He struggled to sit upright, and his vision swam dangerously. There was no ground beneath him as he finally managed to raise himself. Tooth tried to push him back down, but he refused to budge. Darkness beckoned and nausea rose up. He choked it down, fearing what color it would be. His eyes were glued to the red mark on the worn sleigh floorboards, pulling the robe around himself tighter. "What do ya mena, 'last kid'?"

"Only one kid believes in us," Whispered Tooth, her eyes eerily bright in the darkness. "Jamie."

The sleigh shuttered again, and the motion sent Bunnymud's sences reeling. He grabbed onto the sleigh's side in a crushing grip before he could stop himself from vomiting. All that came up was sour water and stomach acid. He realized dully that in all this panic, he hadn't eaten the past few days. As his stomach convulsed, his throat burned and tears pricked his eyes.

With half-closed eyes, he ground his teeth together. His heart was hammering away at his ribs. His bones and joints ached from the cold, feeling brittle. He hated the cold; it was one of the few things that he just couldn't handle. He was about to shout something over the wind, but then something happened. He just didn't make the connection until the air started rushing upwards and he was partically lifted from his seat.

They hit something and he was jerked from his seat, nearling hitting the bench in front of him. He held tightly onto Tooth as the sleigh began to twist around, fishtailing wildly. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her against the sleigh's floorboards, burying his face into the robe that was somehow still clinging to him as it whipped around wildly in the cold breeze.

Then came the impact.

His whole body was slammed painfully against the floorboards and bench bottoms. The air was stolen from his lungs as they rocked around, slamming into the wood. His weak hold on Tooth was torn away as the impact shuttered through him. He slid away from her and her scream. His head hit the edge of the sleigh and white pain exploded behind his eyelids.

He could hear the thunder of hooves against pavement - not a pleasant sound - and then they were distant, as though they had run off, leaving behind the sleigh and those inside. The sleigh rocked and he cracked his eyes, only to come face to face with North.

He heard the air stirring as Tooth flew from the sleigh, "Jack! What are you doing here?"

North helped ease him into a sitting position, pulling the robe around his shoulders. For a guy who munches on nothing but cookies and milk, he had a strong grip. Bunnymud hated this feeling of sickness, of helplessness and he hated that North was the one to see it.

"Same as you." He could hear the little blighter smirking. Then, it was gone. "What happened to you guys?"

North turned away from him for a moment to answer Jack. "-has taken it's toll. On some, more than others."

"Where's...?" He could almost feel the fear in Jack's voice.

"M'fine, mate." His voice was barely more than a whisper. His temper was alSO another thing that he had a hard time contorlling. It was working against what little control he did have, and he wanted to let it out, to lash out at Jack Frost, the one who caused all of this.

Maybe not all of it, a voice in the back of his mind whispered. His stomach rolled sourly, and he gagged. He clamped his jaw tight as Jack came around to the side and peered down at him. There was a boy trailing by his side - Jamie, he remembered quickly enough - and the boy's eyes went wide as saucers. Great.

The boy's hand reached out and landed softly onto his head. Bunnymud wanted to snarl at the kid, scare it off. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, but he knew he had to put away hisego and pride. They needed this kid to keep them alive, to keep them from disappearing before they could rid the world of Pitch.

"Everything will be okay," Jamie smiled.

"That's what you think." A chill ran down his spine when he heard that too-familiar voice.