Maybe coming to the pole the day after Christmas hadn't been such a good idea after all.
When Jack had arrived at the Pole for the time on his own volition as Guardian, he had found North in a rather… festive mood. Apparently, after his job was done, he had taken a rather Russian approach and hit the hoards of alcohol that he possessed. (Which Jack didn't even know he had.) When a reluctant yeti named Robert had let Jack in, he had found Sandy dozing in a corner, Bunnymund sprawled over a table, half consciously mumbling nonsense, and North still drinking and getting rather red in the face.
"Uh… What happened?" was the first thing he kind of had to ask.
North laughed straight from his belly, looking in Jack's direction with disturbing jolliness. "Been celebrating! Is first Christmas since Pitch was defeated!"
Jack stared at him. "How long have you been 'celebrating'?"
North suddenly looked very serious and thought about it. "Three hours."
Jack's dark eyebrows vanished into his silver hair. North ignored this and continued to down yet another bottle of unidentifiable alcohol. Then he grew morose, looking at the winter spirit with woe.
"Tooth was so unkind to us… she did not want to come." He complained. "She's always work work work, never goes to enjoy herself."
"Maybe not in this particular manner." Jack commented, gesturing to Bunny, who had slipped off the table with a crash. North ignored this as well.
"Da, well…" North mumbled something and took another swig from his bottle. But he paused, appearing to have realized something and leapt to his feet, rushing towards Jack, backing him into a wall, and looking at him with he eyes of a madman.
"You can come drink with us in her stead!"
Jack blinked. "What?" Where, in the name of the moon, had that idea had come from? Jack hadn't had a drop in his life, and he certainly wasn't going to start drinking now. Clearly, North had drunken too much; he wouldn't be surprised if the mammoth of a man knew it too, but just didn't care.
"Jack, you must learn to live a little!" North roared joyfully, taking a shot glass from seemingly nowhere and filling it with a clear substance from the bottle he had in his large hands. Jack had a sneaking suspicion as to what it was.
"North, I'm 17 years old biologically. You can't give minors alcohol." Jack protested, trying his best to push the glass away.
"But you are over 300 years old, no? Just one shot, come!" the madman who had fathered Christmas chuckled.
Jack sighed. If it was just one shot, then fine, just to make Santa happy. He snatched the glass out of his hands and drained the vodka in one go, not even pausing to think about the way it tasted, which was pretty nasty. When he was finished, he lowered it with finality and handed it back to the Russian, who looked very happy.
"Good! Now, one more!" he exclaimed, refilling the glass, at which Jack retreated.
"Oh, no you don't, one was the agreement." Jack said sternly, running away from the alcoholic's reach. North looked disappointed.
Jack grimaced at the look North gave him; it was one of a kicked puppy who hadn't been fed or days, and he was clearly torn up over Jack's decision to remain as abstinent as he could.
"Please?"
Jack let his palm smack his head.
xXx
Jamie had been looking forward to seeing Jack all that winter, seeing as the spirit hadn't visited Burgess that season at all, since he was making sure that Montana and Wisconsin were well covered in snow that year. But he hadn't known that the next time he would see him, he would be crouched in a corner, paler that usual, looking like he wanted to die.
"Jack…? Are you okay?" Jamie asked hesitantly.
Jack looked at him, his eyes an angry red with violent dark circles around them.
"Never…" he rasped. "Let North give me alcohol ever again."
AN/:
Had to. I trust you to understand.
