Endings and Beginnings
by K. Stonham
first released 9th July 2013
"Jack." Jamie's voice was wet, and full of pain, and a little scared. But not much. "What's dying like?"
Jack hesitated. He didn't want to think about that, didn't want to remember, not now. But... Jamie was asking.
He took a breath and closed his eyes.
"It hurts," he said. Jamie breathed a soft "ha" of laughter in response. The night was so still around them. Why was it so still? "I drowned. In winter. In Burgess."
"Wait - you're really from Burgess?" Jamie sounded surprised.
Jack snorted. "Colonial boy. My parents were some of the founders." He drew another breath, listening to Jamie's labored, wet struggle for air. The human's mouth was red with blood, and Jack didn't need to be a doctor to know that was a bad sign. "Drowning... hurts. The cold was like knives first, then it all got numb. But my lungs... I couldn't breathe. I needed to breathe, I had to breathe! I ended up breathing water. That hurt worse." Understatement of the century. Jack took another breath. So did Jamie. "At the end, though," Jack said, remembering, "the pain stopped mattering. It was like my mind went somewhere else. Somewhere peaceful. Like falling asleep, but without any dreams."
"And then you woke up."
"And then I woke up," Jack confirmed, opening his eyes again. "The moon was just like tonight," he said, looking up at Manny, who was as useless right now as he was. "Big and full and winter-bright. And I didn't know anything about who I was, or what I was, or really anything much at all, but I knew I was happy right then. I knew he made me. I knew he loved me. And I knew I loved him right back."
"Sounds nice." Jamie drew another breath, low and slow and careful. He sounded like he was trying not to choke on it. "Jack, what do you think happens to everyone else? The people the Moon doesn't bring back."
Jack shook his head. "I don't know. Wish I did."
"Is there a Death?"
Jack didn't look at Jamie. Couldn't. "Yeah. I've seen it lots of times."
"It? Not him or her?"
"You read too many comics." Jack glanced at Jamie, couldn't help it. Couldn't look away from the wrecked body once he had. "Death changes form, Jamie. Sometimes it looks like the one from those comic books. Sometimes it looks like the one from the Discworld. But it has a hundred other shapes and a thousand other faces."
"How do you know it, then?"
He didn't look away from brown eyes, pupils wide against the night. "Black light."
That scored a weak laugh that fell into painful coughing. "You know that's an oxymoron?"
Wincing, unable to help, Jack shook his head. "It isn't. You know how Sandy's got that golden glow? Well, Death has something like that. It's a... dark mist that follows it. But the mist glows and sparkles with all kinds of colors. Death's not always a bad guy, either. It can be kind, or funny, or cruel, just like the rest of us. It's a part of the world, too."
"Death and taxes." Jamie coughed once more. Blood flecked his lips, gray in the moonlight. "Is... is it here yet?"
Jack didn't even need to look around to know. He shook his head. "Not yet."
"I'm glad you're here, Jack."
Jack tried not to cry, tried to force a laugh instead, failed at both. "Teach you to go mountain-climbing."
"We were only hiking." Jamie's voice was small, like he was apologizing. "It's not like I was tackling Everest, or anything."
A slip, crumbling rocks, shoving a kid back from the edge... Jack hadn't even been here when Jamie had fallen from the cliff. He'd been south, in Chile, laying down some snow in a village in the Andes. The children had been gleeful, so he'd planned to spend the afternoon there, playing with them. But then something had slammed through Jack, pain and shock crumpling him to the ground. How he'd known, he didn't know and might never, but he'd known something had happened to Jamie. "You were supposed to be safe," he whispered, tears stinging at his eyes.
"Life isn't safe, Jack," Jamie whispered back. "If it was, you wouldn't still be here."
"No," Jack murmured, "I guess I wouldn't be."
A moment's silence, then Jamie asked, "What was your name before?"
Jack had to smile. "Jack Frost."
Jamie blinked, a little clarity coming back into his eyes. "Seriously?"
Jack nodded. "Jackson Overland Frost. Manny had the naming thing all cut out, with me."
"Jackson's kind of cool. Why Overland, though?"
"It was my uncle's name. He drowned, back in England, when my dad was a kid."
"Runs in your family, then."
Jamie could have meant the name, or the method of death; either was true. "Yeah."
Jamie's body was shattered. How he was conscious, Jack didn't know. He hadn't been, much, when Jack had first found him. It was only that attempt to raise his head, to pick him up and carry Jamie to safety, to a hospital, to help, that had fully awoken the teenager.
Jack never wanted to hear anyone scream in that much pain again. He... he hadn't been able to stand it, or Jamie's desperate begging for it to stop. He'd put his friend back down. He didn't know if that had been a mistake.
Now, Jamie apparently couldn't feel anything below his shoulders. It was probably a blessing. Jack had stayed with him as the afternoon bled into night, cooling a feverish forehead, wiping away blood and sweat, waiting, hoping for the forest rangers, or some kind of rescue. Surely Jamie's college friends had reported his fall? But no one had come, and Jack didn't know why.
"At least this is the way I wanted to die," Jamie said, and Jack hated, hated the acceptance in his voice.
"Not old, in your bed, with your family around you?" he tried to joke, failing miserably.
"I wanted to die having accomplished something. Having saved someone." Jamie's eyes met Jack's. He smiled. "Like you."
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a memory from another lifetime arose: Jack's mother scolding him, a laugh in her voice. "Jackson Frost, you are a terrible influence," she'd said, "and I hope all the other children can be like you."
He couldn't even remember what she'd been scolding him for, but obviously he'd done something she approved of.
"My mother always said I was a bad influence," he mumbled now, and that startled Jamie into a loud laugh. It was followed fast by more harsh, ugly coughing and choking.
Jack stooped low, leaning close over Jamie, hands on either side of his face. "Don't die, Jamie," he said, tried to command. "Don't die! It's almost dawn, they'll come looking for you soon."
"Jack," Jamie breathed, "do you really think it will matter?"
"I don't want you to die," Jack said, and it was a harsh, ragged sound. His eyes hurt, and Jamie kept going out of focus. "It's not fair!" The tears finally overwhelmed his eyes, breaking free, and they were ice before they touched the ground.
Jamie's breath was ragged. "Do you... forget the moon when the sun comes out?" he asked.
"Jamie, don't do this," Jack begged.
"And does the sun leave, when the clouds block it out?"
"Jamie..."
"You can't keep me here, Jack." Jamie's eyes were fast on his, and full of painful lucidity. "But I'll always be with you, right here." He couldn't reach up and press fingers over Jack's heart, but the sentiment, they both knew, was there. Jamie's eyes slid to the side. "Oh, hello." His voice wasn't scared.
Death came into the clearing, and it looked exactly like it had in those comic books Jamie loved: a pale young woman with dark hair, wearing an ankh. A dark mist, glowing with all the colors of the rainbow, followed in her wake, much like snowflakes and frost did in Jack's.
She knelt down beside Jamie, and smiled at him.
Jamie smiled back.
And then, just like that, he was gone.
Jack looked at Jamie for a moment more. There was something wrong with his heart, he thought, because nothing right could hurt this much. He managed a harsh, ragged breath, then another, then looked at Death. "Why?" he asked, lowly.
Her expression was not without sympathy. "Because," she replied, shrugging. She looked up at the moon, and then at the eastern sky, which was turning brighter, then back at Jack. "Are you going to stay?"
"Until they come for him," Jack said.
"Hmm."
And then Death was gone.
Jack took a long, shuddering breath, and reached out, closing Jamie's eyes. Two of his tears splashed on Jamie's face, cold, disturbing the blood flecks there. Wiping his eyes on the bloody sleeves of his hoodie, Jack retreated to the nearest tree, sat with his back against the bark, and bowed his head into his arms, waiting.
The woods never quite slept. There was always something awake, humming, singing, moving. Just here, it was so quiet, but as time dragged on, Jack could hear a woodpecker. And... a lark? He wasn't sure. Something calling, anyway. And the movements of a larger animal through the undergrowth, but it didn't come near, so he didn't care. The wind dragged at the treetops, murmuring to itself.
It seemed like hours passed. But it couldn't have been that long before Jack heard the breath.
Opening his eyes, Jack squinted against the brightness. And gaped, scrambling to his feet.
Jamie's body hovered in the air, drawn upward by forces out of this world.
Jack stared up at the Moon. Manny? he questioned silently, and got an impression of he's worthy/I'm busy/no complaints now, kid, as well as a sense that Manny wasn't the only one involved in this. Given that Jamie was also painted in the rosy light of the dawning sun, Jack switched his stare to that celestial body as well. But she'd never talked to him, and he didn't know how to talk to her.
Heart beating fast, Jack watched as Jamie was slowly lowered back to the ground. There was no frozen lake this time, no winter. What had the Moon and Sun made Jamie into?
Whole in body again, incredibly hale, Jamie looked raptly up at his two heavenly parents. Jack was suddenly struck with a horrible thought. What if Jamie doesn't remember anything?
He hardly dared breathe as Jamie blinked and looked around. Then his eyes lit on Jack. He blinked. Then he smiled. "Jack?"
Laughing in relief, almost sobbing, Jack flew over, hugged him tight. "I thought I'd lost you."
Jamie grinned, hugging back. Jack had the absent thought that Tooth was going to swoon over Jamie's teeth as well.
"So..." Jack asked, drawing back, "what are you?"
Jamie laughed, and the sound seemed to peal through the woods like music. "I have no idea. Let's find out!"
Author's Note: ...I have no idea where this came from. I also have no idea what Jamie is the spirit of, though I do know what his Core is. As North's is Wonder and Jack's is Fun, Jamie's is Belief. Is he a future Guardian? Probably, a few centuries down the line when Pitch makes another attempt. And, yes, for Jamie, who is canonically a little bit of a geek and media addict, Death took its form from Neil Gaiman's Sandman series.
