Warning: this fic contains a mention of dead kids. And possibly some bad grammar/typing errors.


Sometimes Nicholas St. North took a moment to wonder at what point exactly he had taken up the burden of being a father figure to a centuries old bringer of winter.

It had happened almost without any conscious thought. When the Man in the Moon had chosen Jack Frost as the newest Guardian, North had believed in the lad and done his best to support him. North was the closest thing to a leader among the Guardians, not counting Manny of course. It had been his duty to welcome the newest member into their ranks, even if said newest member happened to be the record-holder of being on the Naughty List. Despite Jack's reluctance to join at first, he had gotten along well with North. It was mostly out of mutual respect and some sort of odd kinship. They were both winter Guardians after all, albeit with very different roles.

Soon after they had really met, North had come to a conclusion that Jack Frost was a very, very lonely soul. Of course he was. North had seen Jack several times before the young spirit had been chosen, but he had never really stopped to think about how hard being invisible had been for Jack. And when he realized it, he had scolded himself for not thinking about it sooner. Why had he been so blind to it all? Maybe it was the cheerful exterior the boy adamantly refused to break unless he really messed something up. Maybe it was that good old Santa Claus really was that out of touch with other people that he just couldn't read the boy.

So maybe at first it had partly been North's way of making up for centuries of neglect. Or it could have been just plain empathy, because North remembered what it was like to be alone. But it didn't really matter where it had started from, North supposed. What mattered was that North didn't really feel that he was doing a good job in his role as the team dad.


Home

When North offered Jack a place to stay at the Pole, Jack declined as politely as he could. North did let the yetis to set up a guest room for the frost boy just in case. So far it was left unused. Jack came and went, but never stayed still for long enough. Sometimes he visited often, a few times a week. Sometimes he disappeared for weeks. North found himself worrying during those times, even though he knew it was ridiculous. Despite being frozen to teenage years, to that point when he was mostly just gangly limbs and irresponsible childish glee, Jack wasn't really a child. He had seen more than enough to understand how the world worked. And he was certainly not helpless. He had survived alone for hundreds of years. North understood that. He had survived alone as well in his early years. It was sad, yes, but it taught one to fend for oneself. When the guest room had remained unused for months, North had to sadly admit that he had been expecting it.

So when one day North found Jack Frost asleep on one on the windowsills of his workshop, he was rightfully surprised. He quickly opened the window, ignoring the chilly breeze that broke in and carefully pulled the small boy's limp form inside.

"Jack?" North asked in a quiet voice, lightly shaking the boy's shoulder. Jack merely mumbled something incoherent in reply and curled up into a tiny ball in North's arms.

"You all right?" North tried again, wondering if he should start worrying. He wasn't very knowledgeable on how winter spirits worked. Maybe this was normal? Maybe it wasn't. He shook the boy again.

This time Jack jolted awake, almost hitting North in the face with the staff the boy had never let go of.

"Wait, what?" Jack blinked and looked around, for a moment not aware of where he was, "Oh? North. Hi."

North was too confused to stop the boy when he leaped out of North's arms and back onto the windowsill.

"Um... you alright, Jack?" North could only repeat.

Jack looked apologetic, sheepish even.
"Yeah, I was just sleeping. Sorry if I scared you."

North might have been a bit more confused if he hadn't already seen a lot of bizarre things in his life. So North quickly got a grip of himself and motioned Jack to come back inside.

"If you are tired, you can sleep in guest room," he said, "You are allowed to come in any time."

Jack smiled uncertainly.
"I know... I'll... keep that in mind."

Jack didn't stay for long. And the guest room remained unused. North understood, although he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. Jack had been on his own for so long. It was hard for the boy to adjust to the idea of having someone to rely on. It was a sad thought.

Then again, Jack could have chosen anywhere else in the world to take a nap as well, yet he had ended up on North's windowsill.


Trust

As the months passed, North started to wonder if he had ever wanted children of his own. Well, the answer was simple. Yes, yes he had. But he had given up on wishing it a long time ago. He was a spirit, after all. Out of all the Guardians, only Toothiana could be called a mother with her millions of mini-fairies. And even those weren't really children in the sense mortals thought about it. They were more like sentient, independent copies of her. Of course, blood relation wasn't really a requirement for being a family. The Guardians were, after all, a sort of family despite being an odd assortment of supernatural creatures. So why did North sometimes find it so hard to think of himself as a father figure?

Maybe because he didn't really want to impose. He didn't really know if Jack wanted a father. Or more accurately, he didn't know if the boy wanted a father to replace whoever had filled the role in the boy's past life. But Jack's past was something of a taboo among the Guardians. The boy didn't want to talk about it, so they didn't push the issue.

They did have one conversation about family once. It was right after Jack's first Christmas as a Guardian. The boy was sitting on the armrest of an armchair, staring at a merrily crackling fireplace in North's workshop. Frost covered the armrest and seemed to keep Jack pleasantly cool even this close to the fire. North joined the spirit by the fire, and Jack suddenly started talking:

"Hey, North?"

"Yes?"

"What was your family like? You know, before you became you."

It was an oddly sudden question. But it was nice to hear the young spirit was interested. North shrugged his shoulders.

"I was orphan. Later, my bandit group was sort of family for me. I never had much time to think of my parents."

"Bandit group?" Jack's eyes widened, "You were a thief?"

"That so hard to believe?" North asked merrily, "Then I found a nice village and started making toys for the children there. Much nicer. I felt like I belonged there."

"That does sound pretty nice," Jack mused, "I don't remember much about my family either. I know I had a mom... maybe a dad too. I remember my sister the best."

"A little sister?" North guessed.

Jack nodded, suddenly looking very nostalgic. It was a look that somehow didn't sit well on the face of a teenager. North waited for Jack to continue, but the boy was silent. That little bit of information was all Jack was ready to share at the moment. But North supposed it was a good start.

After a moment of silence North decided to risk saying:
"Now, Guardians are like family."

Jack chuckled at that, hugging his knees and leaning his cheek on them.
"Then it's a really weird family," he said with a smile.

North had to agree.


Discipline

One of the hardest things for Jack to understand was that now that he wasn't completely on his own, he couldn't do whatever he pleased any more. And that caused some problems every now and then. Sure, North could keep up discipline, even with all his personal quirks. He had to deal with his elves at least three times a day, and it was routine by now. But scolding someone who was old enough to know exactly what he had done and most of the time even what it had led to felt much harder. Thankfully Bunnymund had quickly taken it upon himself to remind young Frost that yes, there are rules and yes, the Guardians should set up a good example for the children. But sometimes, when North felt like the situation called for something a bit more constructive than just very blunt scolding and some rather childish name-calling, he stepped in.

They would have a rather awkward conversation and then Jack would fly away again, promising to be more careful next time or whatever was appropriate for the situation. The only possible punishment North could think for the boy was working and helping fix whatever had been damaged. And even that felt pointless.

Except when one day a crash and several worrisome noises of things falling over assaulted North's ears. North abandoned his ice sculptures and chainsaw immediately and dashed out of his office. At first he was certain the elves had managed to finally break something really big, but when he got to one of his storage rooms, he realized there were no elves in sight. Instead, a couple of yetis were inspecting a pile of fallen over and shattered chunks of ice that used to be blocks – blocks North had been about to use for model making.

"What is this?" North demanded to know, "What happened?"

"Sorry, North!" one of the ice piles said, "It was my fault!"

North raised a brow, and watched as the pile of ice moulded itself back into perfectly rectangular blocks and Jack Frost peeked from behind them.

"Sorry," he repeated, looking a bit embarrassed, "I... I was planning this tiny little... prank for the yetis and they kind of caught me so I panicked."
He tapped one of the newly fixed blocks with the crook of his staff and looked at it critically.
"Good thing I only broke something I could fix easily, right?"

North considered asking what exactly the nature of the prank Jack had been planning was, but then decided not to. One of the yetis cast a very gruff look at the winter spirit, and Jack raised his free hand defensively.

"Hey, I'll be good. I'm kind of not in the mood to try anything again. Not today at least."

North wasn't quite ready to believe that. But at least the kid had been sorry.


Comfort

So North couldn't really offer a home for the boy, but at least he could offer his support when things got tough. And naturally that was another thing Jack didn't really understand. Most of the time Jack was happy, thankfully. The boy was all about fun, so it made sense it would protect him from completely cracking even during all those years alone. When things looked bad, Jack usually handled it with a moment of unusually sombre quietness, but usually got over it appropriately quickly. He rarely spoke about the things that bothered him, unless someone coaxed him a bit.

North tried his best helping the younger Guardian understand that he could always come to see the other Guardians if he was feeling down. And even though he was sure Jack was slowly starting to understand that, there was still a long way to go. And when Jack once stumbled into the workshop with haunted eyes and shaky legs, it took him a while to open up. First the boy had flown uncontrollably past a bunch of startled yetis and an equally startled North and into the globe room. There, at the foot of the huge globe that depicted all the believing children in the world as small dots of light, the winter child stopped, staring at a spot where there had been more lights a moment ago. North followed the boy to the room and came to stand beside the still, small form. He didn't dare to speak for a long while. There was just something so frighteningly fragile in Jack's wide-eyed look and the almost convulsive way the boy clutched his shepherd's crook. There might have even been tears in the boy's eyes, but North couldn't tell for sure.

"They're really gone," Jack said finally, in a tiny voice that was so unlike him that North was startled. He turned to look at the boy again and saw the small, bony shoulders shaking. He also noticed the icicles and the shards of ice all over the boy. It was almost as if Jack had been underwater and then hadn't bothered to get dried up before his natural coldness froze the water on him. North wanted to ask what had happened, but he didn't do that yet. First, he wordlessly steered the boy out of the globe room and into a smaller, cosier room with a couch to sit on. As soon as they reached the sofa, Jack's legs gave out and the boy slumped onto the cushions, trying so desperately to keep his breathing calm. But he wasn't really fooling anybody. North crouched in front of Jack and placed a gentle hand on a trembling shoulder.

"What happened?"

Jack just shook his head.
"I... t-there were some kids... they were in a boat and it just... I don't even know what happened. It just flipped o-over a-and..."
His voice broke.
"I t-t-t-tried to s-save them, b-but they couldn't s-see... I mean... I've s-seen a lot of b-bad stuff happen, but it's al-always so..."

He broke off when his staff clattered onto the floor. His hands refused to stop shaking. North squeezed the boy's shoulder and stayed quiet. Because there wasn't really anything he could have said. He could only hold Jack close when the tears finally spilled, when Jack finally allowed himself to break down. The frozen boy trembled in North's embrace and cold hands clenched around North's shirt like it was the only solid thing left in the world.

And North was too absorbed by sorrow over it all that he had to completely ignore the realization that Jack had sought comfort from him.


Father's day

"Hey, Jamie! What're you doing?"

The ten-year-old Bennett looked up, eyes widening with surprise at the sudden appearance of his supernatural friend.

"Jack!" he greeted with a wide grin, "I haven't seen you for ages!"

Jack shrugged.
"Well, of course. It's summer here now."

"So I should be asking what you're doing here, then," Jamie said smartly.

Jack dropped from the wind's arms onto the back of the park bench Jamie was sitting on.
"I just wanted to drop by and say hi. What, aren't you happy to see me?"

"You know I am."

Jack grinned and looked curiously over Jamie's shoulder. The kid was drawing something colourful on a piece of cardboard. It looked a bit like a man wearing a heavy winter coat. There was a smaller human next to him. The brown hair and eyes told Jack that the smaller one was Jamie.

"What are you drawing?" he asked.

Jamie switched the blue crayon he was using to a green one and didn't look up.
"It's a father's day card for my dad. Tomorrow's father's day, you know. We always do something extra fun with dad then."

"Father's day?" Jack repeated uncertainly, "Okay, then."

Jamie frowned and this time looked up from his unfinished card.
"You didn't know?"

Jack rolled his eyes.
"Jamie, father's day is different in practically every country. I'm not going to start memorizing every single unofficial holiday in the world."
He crossed his arms.
"Besides, I've never really had to worry about it."

Jamie stopped colouring the card and stared at it blankly.

"Sorry..."

Jack quickly reached out to lay a cold hand on his first believer's shoulder. Jamie was already old and smart enough to understand that three hundred years of loneliness was unimaginably... well, lonely. It was something Jack always hoped Jamie wouldn't think about. It wasn't Jamie's burden. But, he supposed, that was a part of being a friend.
"Hey," Jack said gently, "Don't get upset about that. I'm fine."

"You sure?" Jamie asked, "I shouldn't have talked about..."

"Why not?" Jack interrupted, "You don't have to feel guilty about having something I don't have. That's just stupid. What, are you going to feel guilty for having body heat next?"

Jamie laughed, and it warmed Jack's heart like children's laughter always did.
"You have fun with your dad," Jack said and pointed his finger dramatically at Jamie, "It's an order from the Guardian of Fun himself!"

Jamie smiled and picked up another crayon. The mood was light again, and Jack was sorry he had to leave not long after arriving. But it was summer, and there was no place for him in Burgess at the moment. The weathermen might get suspicious if frost started covering a park in the middle of a summer day. So when Jamie's mother called for her son, Jack took his leave. And for some reason the fact that it was going to be father's day soon didn't leave his mind the entire evening.


North was awake a bit later than usual. It was June, so the worst rush before Christmas wasn't yet looming upon the workshop and even he could allow himself to sleep in, even if just a bit. He was feeling quite relaxed as he walked to the workshop area and saw the yetis who were starting up the toy production for the day. He almost kicked over an elf but managed to hop aside thanks to reflexes that would have put a cobra to shame. He decided he could afford a little slower start for his morning and have an extra large cup of hot chocolate before really getting to work. He steered his steps towards the massive kitchen his workshop housed.

When he got in, a cold breeze greeted him, and he blinked in confusion when he saw Jack Frost sitting on a kitchen counter, looking a bit lost and holding a tray with a large mug of hot chocolate on it.

"Jack?" North greeted a bit uncertainly. What was the trickster up to now?

Jack looked up and held the tray in front of him like an offering. And offering in a red and green porcelain mug.
"Morning, North," he said and sounded awkward, embarrassed even, "I, uh... your chocolate is getting cold."

Indeed it was. It might have had something to do with the fact that it was being held in winter-chilled hands. North quickly strode over to the winter spirit and took the mug. He looked at it suspiciously.
"Are you all right?" he asked.

Jack nodded.
"Yeah, sure... well, I was a bit bored and I remembered I haven't visited you in weeks so I figured it would be a nice surprise or something, so... surprise?"

Jack waved his hands at the "surprise"-part and then looked embarrassed again, his pale cheeks gaining a strange hue that would have looked very unhealthy on a normal person. North couldn't help it. He burst into merry laughter and slapped his free hand on Jack's shoulder. The boy nearly fell off the counter, but didn't seem too fazed by it.

"And great surprise it is!" North managed to say once his laughter had subsided. Jack's flustered expression made way for a wide, happy smile.

North didn't even realize that it was the day which in some parts of the world was considered father's day.


Author's Note: So I may or may not have recovered from my Writer's Block but in any case I got this thing finished. It has been lurking in my files for some time now. Actually, ever since I decided I should try my hand at fanfiction I wanted to write something family fluffish about North and Jack because I like it. North is just awesome!

When I got into writing this I had to make it really hard for myself because, well, I wanted to go with these small snippets and they just didn't want to go together but I didn't want to split this into chapters either so... agh! Just, not good. But hope it doesn't make anyone want to throw their computer screens to a wall in disgust.

Also, father's day is celebrated in November in Finland, and I sort of thought it was an internationally agreed time for it when I started writing this. But then I checked it and realized that it's all over the calendar and it happened to be in June of all times in USA. So now Jack is hanging out in Burgess in summer for no reason. Well, whatever. Fanfiction.

Reviews are very much loved!