Hey all. My apologies for not posting for the last while. It was my Birthday on the 19 and all that other fun stuff, and I got a new laptop and several awesome books for it, but mainly, I've just been busy and a tiny bit lazy.

I thank all of you wonderful people who have managed to put up with my laziness for this long and continue to review in order to motivate me. Honestly, it does.

Warning: There is a lot angst and hurt in this fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.

Summary: He had always been alone. Now he's struggling to find his place with the Guardians. Sequel to What's Left of Me.

o-o-o-o

There wasn't a lot of communication between Jack and the rest of the Guardians.

That was blatantly obvious when Bunnymund woke again to see that Jack was gone. Sure, he could recall vaguely the Winter Spirit saying something about cycles and all, but it didn't mean that he could just up and leave whenever the hell he wanted to.

Then again, this was Jack Frost he was talking about. The Winter Spirit did whatever the hell he wanted whenever the hell he wanted.

Maybe that's a little harsh. His thoughts chided. Jack had been through a lot in a relatively short period of time, and he was more than a little wary around corners and shadows. That much was obvious within the short amount of time that Bunnymund and the other three Guardians had managed to observe the teen.

Tooth, of course, wanted to smother the poor kid with as much affection as she physically could, which had led to several offhand conversations in a ten minute period that had resulted in Sandman putting North and Tooth on opposite sides of the room for another ten minutes.

North thought that they should pretty much do it the good old fashioned way; corner Jack and make him realize how important he was to them and all of this duck and cover crap wasn't needed. But Bunnymund and Sandy both knew that that was a sure way to cause Jack to pull away even further than he already had.

Sandy, well, he had that knowing look in his eye when he firmly denied any and all attempts at getting Jack to open up to them, the tiny little golden man crossing his arms and raising a brow delicately, challenging anyone who would be stupid enough to go up against him. He had, after all, been the one to defeat Pitch the first time around. Everyone had seen that darker gleam behind the usually bright eyes, that darker side of Sandman that had been born from years of living in guilt, thinking that it had been his fault that Pitch had originally defected.

Bunnymund yawned, eyes flickering around his nest of blankets before he stretched for several moments, working out the kinks and the thoughts that were dead set on making themselves at home for God knew how long. He was craving something at the moment. Something calm, haunted, and going by the name of Jack Frost.

He wasn't quite sure that he liked these new emotions the Winter Spirit was invoking in him. The Pooka hadn't had to deal with emotions like these for a great many years, and it was unnerving how easily that all of his locks were dissolving and being removed from them.

Bunnymund still wasn't sure what had even happened when he and the other Guardians were- well, he wouldn't say that they had been dead. It was simply as though there was nothing there. Just a gap in his memory that the Pooka wasn't sure he would ever be able to understand. He remembered everything up until that point in crystal clear detail, and then nothing. And then the rest of his memories following his reappearance just picked right back up again. But even they were hazy, as though he'd been in some sort of dream or hallucination. It was truly a strange feeling.

"Bunny! You in room?"

The Pooka sighed as sudden banging on his door broke him from his turbulent thoughts once more, and he made his way over to the doors. Grasping the handles, he barely had time to duck out of the way as they slammed open, nearly taking off his ears.

"Watch it, mate." He grumbled, though he knew it was hopeless. North had been ready to peel off into a race of a speech, and to top it all off, it was in Russian. Honestly. The guy had to have figured out by now that he was the only one who spoke Russian. Well, maybe the yeti, but then again, no one seemed to know what language they spoke.

"North."

The large man continued to rant on about something or other; probably about the elves, considering that they were the ones who got into the most mischief next to Jack.

"North."

Again, nothing. Bunnymund felt his teeth begin to clench, something they always seemed to do around North when he began going on like this. His best options, at this point, were either to pretend he cared, or to attempt to sneak past the gesturing hands and out into semi-normalcy.

At this point, escape was definitely appearing the better option.

o-o-o-o

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Jack growled to himself. What had possessed him to open up to the Pooka like that?

Well, the little voice in the back up his mind supplied cheerily, there's always the fact that you admitted that you had feelings for him.

Yes, there had been that little realization. But that wasn't necessarily the part of him that was rebelling against giving all of his secrets away. He had a right to his privacy, and damn it all to Hell, he was going to keep them!

Like what happened at the monastery? Like what happened during those last minutes against Pitch?

SHUT UP! He snarled, unable to help himself. Around the Winter Spirit, the weather picked up, the snowflakes becoming larger and the winds picking up on his turmoiled mood. Lightly, as if taunting him, the wind pressed itself close against the teens side before whirling off in a mischievous twirl.

It wasn't fair.

All of this- why had it been him? All this time, he'd wanted nothing more than to have companionship, be alone from his nightmares and memories. But now, now he had to deal with everything else that had been piled onto his plate. Hell, why did it have to be him? He had to come to terms with the fact that he had seen more, done more, and would always be someone just out of reach of the normal world. He could never be that mischievous Winter Spirit that the legends of him told. In fact, Jack didn't think that he ever had been. He had only been plagued by fear and hurt and neglect.

Neglect that he had been doing to himself, of course. But that wasn't the point now. He was a teenager, albeit a three hundred year old teenager, but he was a teenager nonetheless. Weren't teenagers supposed to be free of such adult things? Of simply living life as it came, spur of the moment decisions and all of that other crap?

No, he was saddled with murder and essentially losing everything that had initially made him Jack Frost. He didn't even have his infamous wind any longer, or his staff. Nope, he was stuck with a fancy little glowing rock and some kind of twisted version of teleportation, instead. Hell, he didn't even have his own clothing! He was still wearing that ridiculous monk garb that he'd fought Pitch in.

The mere thought of the Nightmare King's name brought the taste of bile to the back of his throat. Jack shuddered lightly, remembering every detail that he wanted nothing more than to have burned from his mind. His bare feet, comfortable against the stone beneath him, linked the sensation to the cavern.

He hated it.

All of it.

Jack Frost was an illusion, a fake. He was not the cheery spirit who tapped children on the nose with his snow. He didn't love cleaning up after humanity, cleaning up after their mistakes that were slowly killing the world around them.

He was a cold, emotionless murderer who was too weak to even listen to the words that he told himself would make everything change. Those vile, twisted words that refused to give up on him, even after all this time.

Just let go of it all. One voice crooned.

We can make everything go away forever, this time.

Never. He would never do such a thing again.

Even though he was pulling away from the Guardians, he needed them as support beams against the pain and shock of the horrors he had witnessed, had committed.

Especially one certain Pooka that he could not rid his thoughts of, no matter how hard he tried.

o-o-o-o

"So, am Ah the only one here who is completely lost, or is Sandy with me on this one?" Bunnymund asked, raising a brow as he 'sunned' himself next to the warm fire in North's designated meeting room. "Because what it sounds like to me is that you want to actually trick Frostbite into telling ya what's going on. Which, in my opinion, is a very bad idea."

"And why is that, Bunny?" North replied calmly, raising his own brow in challenge.

Bunnymund instantly internally cursed. He'd backed himself into a corner without even realizing it. Damn, North was getting good at this.

Sighing, the Pooka decided that a partial truth wasn't actually going to hurt anyone at this point, except maybe himself if Jack came back and learned what he was about to say to the Guardians. He may not know the Winter Spirit as a close friend, but he had been close enough to the Guardian to know what made him tick in that snow white head of his.

"Frostbite…" he began, "He's not the Guardian everyone thinks he is."

"What do you mean?" Toothiana piped up, pink eyes gleaming with new concern. "He's always been Jack. We all know what he's like."

"That's what Ah thought at first, too." Bunnymund shrugged. "But after being around him for a while, it's pretty obvious that Frostbite's a very secretive person. He's not likely to let anyone in without a good reason."

"He let you in." North pointed out.

The Pooka leveled a deadpan stare on the usually jolly Guardian. "In case you've forgotten, Ah was with him for a good portion of time. We talked."

Sandy, silent up until this point, finally fidgeted, several images quickly flashing above his head as he looked at Bunnymund. There was that knowing look again, too. Seeing it nearly had the Pooka wanting to tear his whiskers off in pure frustration. He knew something that no one else did, and he was being smug about it in his own vague way.

"No." he replied. "Frostbite didn't let his guard down often."

North and Tooth shared a look with Sandy, who was now even beginning to show signs of wanting to crack a smile. Again, Bunnymund was getting that urge to cause some kind of harm to something. Even though he had a healthy amount of respect for the little golden man, there were simply some things that ground on his nerves like nothing else.

"Am I late for something?" Jack's voice asked abruptly, snapping all four Guardians out of whatever thoughts they were losing themselves in. North flashed a bright grin in the Winter Spirit's direction, and Tooth made a small wave, but Bunnymund and Sandy saw no reason to put on a mask and pretend that everything was alright. In fact, Bunnymund was getting the urge to run off before he did something that he would regret later.

"Ah was just leaving." He said shortly, tapping his paw against the ground, barely noticing the sudden stiffness to the Winter Spirit's frame as the words were tossed into empty space.

"Oh. Well, I'm just checking in. There's an unbalance in Egypt that I need to take care of, and this was on my way there." Jack said coolly before the still surprising snow flashed into existence, carrying the Winter Spirit away through its own means.

North threw his hands up in exasperation after both Guardians had disappeared, a look of long suffering planted on his features.

"Jack and Bunny need to open up." Tooth said softly, her fluttering wings the only sound besides the fire in the room. "Whatever Jack told Bunny is obviously hurting them."

Sandy shook his head, the faintest of smiles on his features. He knew exactly what it was that was bothering the two Guardians, but he was going to let his other Guardians figure it out in their own due time.

Besides, leading them on a little would be just the sort of thing that he would do. Not that they would realize it was him behind it, anyway.

Sandman was just a little more clever than most gave him credit for.