Brief Author's Note: Oh, you guys. Guys! As creepy as this might sound, I love you right now! Yes, you, on the other side of the computer screen! (you: … um, okay?) Thank you to all of those who read the story, and to those who left a review, it makes me feel like the happiest person alive! I never expected so many people to… well, acknowledge this story's existence (I felt like Jack for a second there) and then I look over its traffic stats/reviews and I nearly screamed! As sad as it is, the last time I looked, 194 views to this story was the highest I've ever had! EVER! As I sent to Lovepuppy316, I thought this would be one of those stories that were looked over, but I posted it anyway because writing is… well, it's what I do. Just like making mischief as well as frost is what Jack does. And we all know that's not gonna change for a while ;) Anyway, let me bore you no more, continue with the story and don't forget to leave a review!
I have a little half-oneshot-thingy up on deviant art, (just type in KuraiTeiruzu696 on the search bar on deviant art . com, and go to my journals, it's called Repercussions,) about Jack feeling alone once walking through the woods, despite a handful of believers and the guardians' slowly bonding friendship. I decided to intertwine the idea with this next chapter. Please leave me feedback!
Chapter Two: ~Bunnymund, Jack, Pitch, and North~ Forgetting the Repercussions Pt.1
Chapter Song: Save Me from Myself, by Vertical Horizon (because his voice sounds like Jack's ;D and it matches the sad theme D:)
Repercussion (dictionary definition) = the rebound of a force after impact; result; aftermath; outcome; consequence
It didn't take Jack long to realize that the bitter, painful emptiness that he was experiencing was nothing short of loneliness. He did more than recognize the wretched feeling when it overtook him. He understood it, knew it from the inside out, as well as every other emotion that came along with it; unfortunately there was quite a number of emotions that had ambushed him that one unforgettable night. It had previously been a casual stroll in the park - quite literally, as a matter of fact, he found himself aimlessly meandering amidst the trees surrounding his lake out of pure boredom and nothing more. All of the other Guardians, after all, were too preoccupied with their tasks to give him anything to do. Christmas was not a month away, and North had told Jack to come by and visit after his work was completed.
"Would love to play games, Jack, but I have important issues to deal with for to bring children good Christmas. Go see Tooth, I'm sure she'll be happy that you stopped by, yes?" Jack could remember North's preaching as the jolly, rushed Russian man helped Phil stack some toy robots, before taking a second glance at them. "Eh, we still have time. Paint them red." So Jack flew up to Tooth's palace, and though he was unexpected, the fairies welcomed him. Their squeaking form of communication slightly irritated the winter spirit, since he hadn't really taken the time out to learn what they were saying. He managed to find Baby Tooth, the fairy that had accompanied him with most of his adventure before becoming a Guardian. She'd been spending more time with Toothiana nowadays though, being Tooth's most trusted, right hand fairy. The small, sweet fairy finally told him, through a number of gestures and hand signs, that Tooth had gone out to collect teeth with some of her other fairies, just to make sure that it was safe before she cut them loose. Jack considered staying and waiting for her, but Baby Tooth also told him that she would be back out later anyway, so he gave up and bid Baby Tooth farewell before flying in search of Sandman. However, he seemed busy as well, sending good dreams to the children of the world and warding off any unwanted nightmares in the process.
And, just because he really didn't feel like being alone, he thought about going and hanging out with Bunny, only to shake his head in disbelief and return to what he called his home.
You're actually desperate enough to go to the Kangaroo? He'll probably just tell you to go away the moment you step into the Warren. He thought to himself coldly, touching his feet upon the slick, smooth surface of the frozen lake. The lake was always frozen; even in the heat of summer, Jack would make sure to keep it coated with ice and frosted with sparkling snow. He didn't really know why; maybe it was some sort of memorial service, a dedication for the abrupt ending his past life and his rebirth. No one ever thought anything of it, after all, it was smack dab in the center of the forest. No one bothered to wander this far into the woods, but had they come across the frozen lake that they probably didn't even know existed, odds are they'd shake it off and say it was their imagination. This is often what he heard adults call it when he put icicles above their doorway in spring (much to Bunny's disliking).
Being more bored than ever, Jack flung his staff over his shoulder and headed into the woods, deciding to walk around some more before calling it a day. He was unaware of the Nightmares discreetly hiding amongst the trees.
But gradually, he felt the slightest bit of unease. It was a strange concept, feeling uneasy in the place that he considered home. His pale, childlike face looked up into the sky as he walked, his ice blue eyes practically glowing in the moonlight. From his lips, he allowed a sardonic comment about the moon staring at him like a creeper, accompanied with a yawn to show that he was just about to hit the hay.
And then he heard it; that voice.
"Hello! Is there anyone there?!"
Hearing it caused him to freeze in place, his breath catching in his throat and his grip on his staff changed from merely keeping it in place to holding onto it for dear life. He knew the voice, but it wasn't his sisters, nor was it from anyone else's mouth.
That's my voice. Jack thought to himself as he realized he'd cried the words out uncontrollably, and his breath slowly came back to him in brief, almost hushed shivers.
Suddenly, his woods didn't seem as comforting. They seemed so… lonely. Something in the back of his mind told him to fly off and never return, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. He could barely bring himself to look up as the moonlight was slowly smothered out of the sky. The dark of the night had always sent shivers of discomfort down Jacks' spine, and that's always when the moonlight would shine through and illuminate a path, and he'd feel a greater sense of security than that of which he'd felt in the dark. Now, the pale moonlight was blotted out by black storm clouds, and his mind was equally clouded with darkness. It was tantamount to a punch to the face, how quickly the dreadful, familiar feeling overpowered him. It caused him to zone out of reality, and though he finally brought himself to turn around and try to walk out of the woods, he was constantly stumbling over tree roots and stepping on thorns and spikes. He didn't notice the many long gashes and deep cuts that he'd acquired as he continued through the forest, his blood freezing once it made a decent sized streak upon his jeans. Jack couldn't say why he wasn't flying, because with his staff in hand it was as easy as thinking 'I want to go to Antarctica'. The wind would take it from there, all you had to do was keep your body at a certain angle and you'd be on your way. But subconsciously, something was eating away at him, causing his thoughts to be jumbled and irrelevant, therefore flying was out of the question. Jack pressed on, no longer being able to recall his destination - did he have one to begin with? - and he felt the curiosity and happiness slowly drain from him. This little walk in the woods gradually began to make him feel anxious and fearful. And the worst part was he didn't even know why. He'd grown extremely drowsy after aimlessly wandering for what seemed like forever, the eerie feeling shrouding him further with hopelessness and confusion. What was going on? Was he dreaming? Should it be daylight already, or was it just him? There was a brief moment when he'd paused his little stroll and looked down at his feet, noticing the blood and the dirt but not feeling the slightest amount of pain or stinging. I must be really tired, this all must be my inagination, he thought to himself meekly, before looking back at the woods, his eyes void with emotion but his insides churning worriedly. Dark, hazy shadows seemed to gather beneath the trees and festered there for the night. Jack stood, paralyzed in his tracks once more as he took a moment to inspect the trees surrounding him. They were all towering over him in an intimidating manner, with long and jagged branches to use as swords to impale their enemies and thick bark to use as a shield to protect themselves. They appeared to be fearless warriors that were out to get him, but didn't notice that he was standing before them.
To be blunt, the trees actually reminded him of the Guardians.
It was ironic, really, how the forest was mocking him, because you see, the trees were all around him, cornering him even, but they didn't even have to move to make him feel like this. They never spoke to him, never bothered to acknowledge their existence. They just looked onward, disregarding - no, refusing - to notice the young spirit of fun in any way, shape, or form. He was invisible even to the trees, and even if they could see him, he was just... there. He had no real business with the trees, he was just there for no reason. And he began to tremble after seeing that some of the trees didn't appear to like him at all, clutching their boomerangs with their arms drawn back, ready to strike.
Drowsiness finally got the best of him, and he could make out blurry faces etched upon the bark of the trees. They were distorted and marred, quite a frightening sight in Jack's mind. He took a startled step back, only to bump into another one of the faces. Their crudely carved lips didn't move when they spoke, partially because it wasn't their voices; they were the Guardian's could hear them echoing throughout the forest, and he spun around, determined to find the source and destroy it, lest it torment him until he found his way out. Little did he know that it was all coming from his own mind.
"But no one believes in you, do they? You see, you're invisible, mate; it's like you don't even exist." Bunnymund's voice bounced off of every tree, wriggling its way into Jack's mind and eating away at him. It tore him apart. Without thinking, Jack punched the tree accompanied with a cry of despair, proceeding to yank off one of its wooden lips. He pulled the blue sleeve of his hoodie, revealing scars and cuts that had yet to heal. Jack swiped away at his wrist wrist of the hand clutching is staff, mercilessly, ignoring the splinters and pieces of wood that had jammed themselves into the cuts. And without warning, it all came flooding over him, overwhelming him to the point where he wished he didn't even exist.
"Jack, I'm scared!"
"You're greatest fear is that you'll never be believed in; and you fear you'll never know why."
"I'm a bunny. The Easter Bunny. People believe in me."
"Who is Jack Frost?"
"No one, honey, it's just an expression."
"Do you want them, Jack? Your memories?"
"Come on, Jack, you can't have fun all the time."
"Oh, so like a neutral party? Then, I'm gonna ignore you, heh, but you must be used to that."
"You put me here! The least you could do is tell me... tell me why."
"We had everyone's memories here. Yours too."
"You're gonna be… you're gonna be fine, uh… we-we're gonna have a little fun instead!"
"Well, I hate to break it to ya, mate, but you ain't ever gonna be seen, by anyone! 'Cause ya see, no one believes in you. No one cares."
"Would I trick you?"
"Jack... what have you done?"
"Yes, you always play tricks!"
"We should never have trusted you!"
"You said you wanted to be alone. So be alone!"
At the last comment, he grew paranoid, looking at the trees pleadingly, dropping the bloody piece of bark and beginning to cry. "No, I… I didn't mean…" he began to say, only to break down in tears after they repeated like some sort of chant throughout the dread infested forest. It was overpowering; the voices overlapped and in a matter of seconds his head began to throb in pain. He fell to his knees, dropping his staff to better plug his ears in hopes of silencing the voices. No such luck. The sound of his sobbing was drowned out by his sister's fear stricken voice. "Jack!" It didn't take much longer for the exhaustion to catch up with him, and he toppled over on his side, closing his eyes and finally giving in to the sleepy spell cast by none other than the nightmare sand itself. And before he knew it, Jack was drowning again.
~About an hour later, same location~
"Oi! Frostbite!" Bunny's thick Australian accent rang throughout the forest as he searched for the winter spirit. North had told him, in the middle of the night whilst he was just falling asleep nonetheless, to get up and start looking for the little bugger, "I feel that he is not doing so good after I send him away. I feel it..."
"Oh, strewth, North, please don't say it."
"In my belly!"
So, of course, he was dragged out here against his will to look for the mischievous spirit. And the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with a sarcastic little turd this late at night. "A'right, where are ya, ya lil rascal? Play time's over, we're headin' back to the Pole! Now!" he hollered impatiently, hoping that Jack would come out of hiding, an expression written on his face that resembled his disappointment for not being able to close the day with a good laugh. Bunnymund made his way deeper into the forest, his ears straight up and his nose twitching as it caught Jack's scent. "Gotcha now, ya gumby." he stated with a tired growl and began pursuing the scent. "Frost, this better be good for gettin' me up this late…" he began to scold, expecting Jack to laugh or throw a snowball at him, or something of that nature. When he was greeted with silence, though, he'd begun to worry. He continued to follow the scent, which was growing stronger with every step. When he'd finally caught sight of Jack, though, he wasn't expecting what he saw at all.
Jack Frost he knew was strong, stubborn as a mule, and at times didn't really know when to quit. He was the spirit of fun, starting snowball fights wherever he went and refusing to let up when someone told him that he had to stop doing something, because he would argue that it's what he was made to do. The boy in front of him couldn't possibly be the same Jack Frost. This boy was sprawled against he cold, thick mud in a sobbing mess, his feet covered with blisters, scratches, thorns, and mud of course. The lower part of his jeans had actually been ripped open, telling Bunny that he had been running instead of flying, but was he running from something? Bunny couldn't say. The trembling boy was covering his ears, his staff carelessly thrown aside like a piece of trash. Jack always propped his staff up when he wasn't using it, no matter the occasion. If he was told to give it to somebody, he would decline and set it somewhere the others thought was no longer a problem but where he could easily reach it. Despite his lack of serious wounds or missing limbs, Bunny still hopped over to the young boy worriedly, just in time to see the remnants of nightmare sand depart his head and flow freely into the wind. Bunnymund growled, stepping in front of Jack protectively and plucking his boomerang out, expecting it to shape shift into a black mare and attack what had come for its energy source.
He really didn't expect Pitch Black to materialize from the shadows of the trees and look down on him expectantly.
"Pitch!" Bunny shouted, pulling his arm back to throw his boomerang.
"Hush! You'll wake him," his voice was almost hoarse, his arms crossed and his eyes bloodshot.
The Guardian of Hope seemed confused at Pitch's weak demeanor and is minimal effort to defend himself. The bunny slowly lowered his arm, only to resume his stance once a thought came over him.
"What did you do to him?!" he snarled once more, a little quieter this time. Pitch inspected the bunny, as if trying to put pieces of a puzzle together in his mind.
"Quit bloody starin' at me like that and tell me what you-"
"Does the boy know?"
Bunny's nose twitched in confusion, his bright emerald eyes widening in surprise. His ears slightly drooped.
"Wh-what? What are you talking about?"
Pitch sighed, sitting calmly leaning against the tree whose shadow allowed him to reveal himself and looked at Jack.
"You care about the boy, do you not? You care for his safety, his wellbeing… or am I wrong?" there wasn't a tone of sarcasm or anger to be found from the Nightmare King's voice. He was merely speaking the blunt truth.
Bunnymund's balance faltered, and he widened his stance to keep from falling over. "Why is it any of your concern, you pest?"
Pitch disregarded his last two words and continued to stare at the sky. "I am the Nightmare King, Aster. I feed off of fear. I found Jack, and although he had fear, it didn't last as long as I'd expected it too."
Bunny's nose flared as his rage seemed to heighten. "You bloody-"
"After that, there was nothing but sadness."
Bunny's arm became rigid, his grip on the boomerang tightening to the point where Pitch thought it would snap. His arm slowly fell, and he brought himself to talk to the dark spirit without any threats or anger.
"Sadness?"
Pitch turned away. "Yes. He's practically drowning in it." he couldn't help but chuckle to himself, remembering that short rush from the succulent memory of him falling through the ice. But it vanished as fast as it came. He turned to face Bunny, whose expression had softened plenty enough for Pitch to show slight anger.
"I could only take so much fear from the boy, because the truth is, there's not much fear there. When I try to feed off of him, I feel a sense of loneliness… a sense of being lost… longing… hopelessness. Do you know why that is?"
Bunny dropped his boomerang onto the ground. After Pitch said that he was "feeding off Jack" made him feel furious, but the anger was squandered with the following words. He felt hopeless.
"As much as I adore his fear," Pitch admitted, hanging his head low. "The others pushed me out… I couldn't take it anymore, I withdrew. True, the boy is scared…but when it comes to fear of the Guardians, I can be the first to say it's simply not as satisfying."
Bunny nearly fell backward. What did that bloke just say? He thought to himself, preparing to ask what Pitch had meant, but the Nightmare King had already disappeared, hissing something under his breath before he completely vanished. "Your name is written upon his wrists..."
It took a minute to settle with him as he thought hard about what Pitch had told him. "The boy is scared…but when it comes to fear of the guardians…" Bunnymund almost couldn't believe what he'd heard. He must be lying, he had to be lying! There was no way…
And that's when it hit him.
Even though he hadn't said anything to Jack of not being believed in, it didn't mean it wasn't still there. He remembered Pitch's words. "I feel a sense of loneliness…a sense of being lost…longing…hopelessness."
"Your name is written upon his wrists..." Pitch's last words echoed in his mind, and Bunnymund took in a sharp breath.
Bunny heard a whimper behind him. He wasted no time kneeling next to Jack and cradling his head with his arm, the other one carefully pulling the boy's sleeve down his arm. Sure enough, Pitch's words were true. Well, to an extent. His name wasn't literally on his wrists, they were simply sliced open, bits of wood prodding up from the skin. He'd been bleeding until his frost had covered it, making it glisten as the moonlight finally pressed through the stormclouds. Your name is written upon his wrists... Was Pitch trying to say that Jack was cutting because of him. Well, he'd been right about the cutting, and didn't appear to be lying when sharing his experience in Jack's mind. Which probably meant everything else was true as well. "Oh Jack..." Bunny's cracked voice whimpered, before he gently lifted the boy up in his arms, grabbing his staff, and tapping his foot impatiently on the ground. "This... this my fault, why you're this way... I'm so... I'm..." he blinked the tears out of his eyes. Jack began to stir, his ice blue eyes slightly open but taking in that Bunny was holding him.
"Hey, Frostbite..." Bunny coaxed softly with a warm smile as Jack tried to completely open his eyes, without much success. The Spirit of Fun, still exceptionally drowsy, managed to mumble a barely comprehensible comment in a slurred voice. "He-hey…whaddaya… pumme down, kangroo…" he said, before eating his own words andweakly burrowing himself deeper into the soft gray fur of the Pooka. The Easter Bunny couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Yeah, you're gonna be jus' fine, ya lil bugger," he assured as he carefully descended the hole that led to North's workshop.
There will be a part two to this chapter, I promise! I just don't want to cram it down your throat, so the fluffy stuffy will probably come in the follow up to this. I'll probably be able to upload the next part tomorrow, and **please be warned that I probably won't be able to upload Monday-Friday, mainly because my (stupid, poor, pathetic, stupid, dumb, retard and prep-infested, butt wipe of a) school takes up all of my time and flushes it down the toilet. So yeah. :\ Consider this like an introduction to when Bunny apologizes (he almost did, didya see that!?) , because I'm not really in a fluffy mood, I'm in more of a leave-me-the-heck-alone-or-I'll-chop-your-head-off type of mood. : ) lub ya guys!
969~696
