A/N: Hello my lovelies! Hopefully when I've uploaded this I'll have finished all of my finals and started my summer! YAY!
I have so many huge plans! I'm a volleyball player (though I don't get normally any playing time during the summer) and I'll be buying my own equipment this summer so that I can practice. I'm so excited! Also, if any of you know which volleyballs would be better (Tachikara vs. Molten, or any outdoor balls) please, PLEASE pm me! I'm having a hard time deciding which one I should get... I'll be playing mainly outside, but the ball would also be for when I get back into my indoor team in the fall. I'll still have time to write my stories, though, don't you worry!
Alright, sorry about bugging you guys with all these words. Please read, review, and enjoy! :)
Chapter 3 - New Sounds, New Sights
Jack woke up the next morning, realizing he'd slept through the entire afternoon yesterday and through the night. He guessed flying all this way after so many snowball fights and sled rides had taken a toll on him. His homemade igloo hung low, glistening with the sun's rays shining overhead. Yawning, he instantly grabbed his staff that lay beside him and stretched. He never let that thing leave his sight. The wood was fragile, even if he enforced it with his ice. The tip of his staff tapped a weak point in the igloo and the snow caved in around him. Jack allowed himself to stay buried for a moment before digging his way out and summoning the wind to free the rest of him, hoisting him into the air before gently settling him down again. He laughed, shaking the snow free from his hair. The igloo was nothing more than a pile of malleable snow, the impression of his body still visible. You'd think I'd be better at handling this stuff by now, he chuckled to himself.
Taking in his surroundings, Jack stretched outward, standing on his toes. The pines were thicker farther up the mountain, so he decided to try descending the mountain instead. Turning around, he noticed a splotch of red in the distance. Jack squint his eyes and called to the wind to pick him up for a closer look. Obeying, the wind threw him into the air, tossing and turning in turbulence. After the initial shock, Jack settled himself in the air, upright, and urged onward.
The red became more solid, and Jack realized he was looking at a very large brick building. A few seconds of flight closer and Jack saw that it was in fact several very large brick buildings. Landing on the top of one of the structures, the winter spirit was awed by the massive proportions of the architecture. There were walkways, walled in, connecting each of the buildings to each other. People were walking in pairs across, oblivious to the spirit who stood watching. They looked sick, or at least really old. Perhaps it was a retirement home. If it were more aesthetically pleasing, North would have been jealous. Jack smirked as he thought of a later joke for the older Guardian. Jack would have to tell him about this sometime.
He hadn't seen North, or the other Guardians for that matter, since the Battle of Easter. Well, that was a lie. He'd seen Baby Tooth numerous times, and Tooth on occasion. She had taken his advice in spending some of her own time in the field here and there. Somehow, Tooth always managed to run into Jack during these times. And, like always, she had to check in on his teeth. How are they, Jack? Are they still pearly white? Are you taking care of them? Tooth worried nonsensically about his teeth. Then she would remember there was a person attached to those teeth and she would ask Jack about how he was getting used to Guardianship. He would tell her it was a breeze, that it was easy, and that he was gaining believers by the day. The last part may have been a small lie. But seeing Tooth smile was worth it. Besides, Jack didn't want to rain on her parade. Soon after he would be done talking, Tooth would go on and on about how many teeth she was finding and wondering if something was wrong with the kids and how she missed seeing the other Guardians again and how there were so many teeth and so many memories. The way Tooth expressed herself was odd, but it never ceased to make Jack smile. Then she would ask for a hug, to which Jack always agreed, and Tooth would fly off to go collect more teeth.
Jack smirked at the memory. He hadn't even seen Tooth in a few months. But that was okay. He was taking a small break, here.
"Oh, no..." That's when Jack's eyes grew wide. He'd forgotten about Bond, the weird girl from the other day. She'd been dragged off by these two goony men and stabbed with some crude object. The girl had looked mortified when she ran her hand right through his. Jack still felt the emptiness that accompanied the phasing of his body through hers. It never felt good, not even neutral. There was always a hint of desperation and sadness that tugged at him every time a nonbeliever ran through him. But this girl saw him! She didn't really want to recognize the fact that he was Jack Frost, but she wasn't denying it either. Come to think of it, Jack wasn't entirely sure what she thought. Her ramblings had been scattered and her train of thought seemed to forget where the tracks were more often than not. But she had been interesting enough and he wanted to understand what this place she was from was all about. It seemed like a hospital of sorts, but she'd called it... a Ward, was it? Or part of it was? And something about schizophrenia, about which Jack hadn't a single clue.
Wondering that he might be able to find her here, Jack started walking around the roofs. Reaching the edges, he would hang upside down with his feet holding onto the roof and peer inside the windows. Many of them were empty rooms that made him think of hospitals. There would be one of those metallic beds with crappy mattresses (Jack had sat on one before when he visited Jamie in the hospital; the boy had broken his leg skiing) and stiff blankets and thin pillows, there would be a draping curtain on a track in the ceiling, and there would be a sink or a door leading to a small bathroom. Some of the rooms had people in them, but they usually weren't on the beds. In one room, he saw a man curled up in the corner sitting and staring into space. Jack knew humans to do weird things when being introspective, but this man didn't seem to be thinking of anything. On to the next room, then, Jack concluded.
He set to this for about an hour, checking every single window he could reach from the roofs of every single building. Not finding the strange girl with two different-colored eyes, Jack asked the wind to carry him around to the other windows. He was finishing up the first building when he rounded the corner and saw a particularly large set of windows that took up the entire floor. Pushing off the wall of the previous building, Jack launched himself toward this spectacle. He grabbed the ledge and pulled his head up, peering inside carefully. The window was cracked, letting some of the winter air, and some of Jack's snowflakes, flutter into the open room. It seemed to be a common area, or maybe a reception area? Jack rejected the idea because this room was on the third floor. However, there was a walled in window inside the room that slid open. A nurse of sorts would hand cups to the people that lined up, and the people would drink from them and toss them into a small gray bin below. Did they have to get permission or pay for water to drink? Jack knew hospitals were expensive here, but seriously?
Crossing his arms and propping his head against the window frame, Jack watched for awhile. There were a few people sitting on benches that were on the walls below the windows. Some ignored the glorious view out over the winter landscape and simply stared inward. There was one square column in the middle of the room, to which posters of some kind were attached. Jack couldn't really read them from here, so he mostly ignored them. Some of the people in here were rocking back and forth, either raucously or imperceptibly. Others muttered things he couldn't hear, but for the most part, things were calm. One thing he did notice about all of the people in this room, and in other rooms, is that they all wore the same thing. It was a loose smock of sorts, patterned with little blue flowers, and loose blue pants to match. The smocks were short sleeved, and some of the people had on a tighter blue undershirt. Was this a hospital or a prison?
Jack angled his head to look into the right side of the room only to find his view blocked by a tall wooden object atop some wheels. It looked like it hadn't been moved in a long time, however, because the wheels were sunk into the ground and rusted. So much for trying to push it out of the way, Jack pursed his lips. He didn't want people to freak out of this thing started moving on its own, anyway.
An older lady suddenly came walking toward the column. She aimed a small, bony finger on a piece of paper and smiled as the nail trailed down the scribbles written on it. She then walked over to a bench that had been kept underneath the wooden obstruction and pulled it outward. Stepping around the side, she sat down and slid to the middle of the bench. Curious now, Jack leaned forward as much as he could, his feet slipping on the bricks he had been using for a foothold as they were now covered in frost. Jack rolled his eyes and ignored his feet, trusting the wind to keep him afloat so he could witness what the lady would do.
Then a sound was heard, and another, then several, all at once, and Jack found out what this woman was doing: she was playing a piano. The notes were staggered and disjointed, but slightly harmonious. Jack couldn't detect a melody of any sort, but it wasn't unpleasant to listen to. It reminded him briefly of the music that would be played in the Burgess village common when he was human. It was always playful, but the talent was varied. Jack pulled his body up and twisted around so that he sat on the outside of the window sill. He could easily crawl through the window into the room, but he didn't want to spend too much time here. The promise to find Bond was still there, but as long as she was somewhere here, Jack figured she would be safe, more or less. It depended on what those men had done, but Jack wasn't thinking about it too hard. He leaned his head against the wooden frame and closed his eyes, listening to the old woman playing.
"What happened to my time slot for the piano?" A desperate question rang out from some hallway Jack didn't realize was there. Leaning forward, Jack saw Bond run into room, appearing rather distressed. She was here! Jack had found her! Her question and her body were stopped midway, however, when one of the attendants held her arm.
"Your privileges were revoked, Ms. Clarke," the tall, blond woman told her calmly, "you walked off the premises without permission." Clarke? So she does have a real name. Why wouldn't she tell me? Wait... can she see me right now? Jack was about to make himself known when Bond responded.
"I told you, I wanted to go for a little walk! And my name's Bond," Bond tried to wry her hand from the attendant, but it seemed that this one knew her better. But instead of continuing to protest physically, Bond calmed down and spoke again. "I was going to come right back. Honestly, do you think I have anywhere to go?"
"Your past records didn't paint the kindest image of you, Ms.─"
"Let the g-girl pl-ay," the old woman got up from the bench, much to Jack's surprise. He hadn't even realized she had stopped. "We all kn-know she's much b-better than most of─ of us," the woman struggled through her stutter and bodily twitches. Jack looked at her closely now, noticing that her eyes were wide and never still. She never seemed to settle on one thing to look out, and her fingers never stayed in one place. The winter spirit couldn't help but silently congratulate the woman for trying to play in such a deteriorated state. A sudden epiphany took to Jack as he saw that many of the people in here were in a similar position, more or less. Not all of them were old, but none of them were as young as Bond. And yet this teenager could play better than any of them? Jack was intrigued as he debated stepping into the room. He was used to not being seen, but he had to hold himself back in case Bond was frightened by him. His first impression may not have ended very well.
Bond's blue and brown eyes lit up like the Northern Lights and she ran over to the older woman. "You'd really do that, Margaret? You love the piano; it helps your arthritis, doesn't it? Oh, thank you! I won't take up any longer than four minutes, I promise! That's the rest of your ten-minute slot, right?"
The attendant pointed sternly at them. "Now, Mrs. Walker, you know this is against the Ward's policies─" she said to the older woman as she had begun to intercept Bond. Jack acted on instinct, aiming his staff at the ground in front of the attendant. The ice that shot out covered the floor around the piano in a thin veneer of slippery chaos. The attendant slipped backwards, which earned laughter from even the most withdrawn and oblivious people in the room. Jack joined in the laughter, easing into the room and holding his stomach.
Bond's head whipped away from the piano to stare at him. Her brown hair followed, covering her face in pieces of frizz. Her eyes were wide, each one holding a different emotion. The brown one was unnerved, cautious, maybe even frightened. The blue one was surprised, hopeful, and perhaps even thankful. The reaction was conflicting Jack, so he stopped his laughter.
"Uh, hi," Jack put out his hand without thinking. He took it back awkwardly, remembering recent events. "I'm sorry I didn't come to find you yesterday... I─ uh..." Jack didn't want to say he'd forgotten, especially when he couldn't be sure what she was thinking.
Bond eyed him without much change in her expressions. Her eyes glanced around the room before she sat down at the piano again. The attendant was still on the floor, confused as to why ice had found its way into the building, but she was largely ignored. Jack got the feeling of eyes on his back, but when he looked around, he saw that everyone in the room was looking at Bond. There was no sheet music on the piano, but that didn't seem to stop her. Her fingers rested on four or five of the shorter black keys, stretching and relaxing momentarily. Bond's eyes were closed and her shoulders slumped. A few seconds passed by, and Jack debated asking her. But she seemed to be concentrating, or at least meditating, so he waited patiently.
Without precursor, without opening her eyes, Bond's right hand began to press onto the keys. Three immediate, soft, high notes led into the left hand's notes, which were also higher than normal. The entire introduction was airy, with periods of slow build from the left hand and quick flights up and down the keys from the right hand. There were small pauses between each upward or downward stroke, both hands still on the right side─ the higher notes, as Jack quickly surmised─ of the instrument. Then, the same light right-hand notes began again, and the left hand entered with much lower notes─ ones that were more continuous and provided a scaffolding for the higher notes to flutter about in their smaller spurts. It had become slightly faster, but it was still slower than a lot of the jigs that Jack had heard when he was human. Then this section ended and the right hand played normal range notes, becoming more powerful with each passing second. The right hand had no more rests as it played these notes, going up and down with articulated, slow strokes. Everything about this song was sad and sweet, endearing and tearful. Perhaps it had been a lullaby. Then a minor chord began to play as Bond whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
"Where were you? The guys showed up and gave me more of that Thorazine again. I guess they heard the glass breaking or something. Took them long enough to figure it out, huh? I told you they were idiots," her quiet ramblings could barely be heard above her notes. She wasn't even looking at the piano. Her eyes had opened and traveled to the windows, but her fingers continued to glide over the keys with practiced ease. Jack was about to say that he was sorry again and that he had fallen asleep when certain words caught his attention.
"What are you talking about? Thorazine? And what glass?" There wasn't any glass outside in the woods, was there? Or was she referring to his ice sculptures (because clearly that hammock wouldn't work as anything else)? The same verse began to repeat on the piano, just with different accented notes. She was biding her time.
"From the window you broke, silly. I know it was pretty dark but I'm pretty sure you could hear the shattered pieces of glass and metal hit the floor. Oh, and they probably heard my screams, too. I guess it isn't totally your fault. Sorry about that. I couldn't really see─ I was coming off the Thorazine, so everything was super hazy, you know?─ and I honestly thought you were that damned man again. Well, you know who I'm talking about─ he was standing right next to you. I see you got out of things fine, though."
Jack stared back at her, his brows furrowing in confusion. What on Earth was this girl talking about? Had he sleepwalked again? Jack had been known in his human years to do more than his fair share of oddities while in his sleep, but he was usually told by his sister or his mother about what happened. He'd dragged his bed up next to everyone else's beds or shoved it far away and paced around the room mumbling about tricks─ or food. He'd pretended to play the violin in his sleep, breaking his father's violin strings on more than one cacophonous occasion. Every time, his sister would make fun of him or his mother would chide him about never getting enough sleep. Admittedly, Jack never did like to sleep, at least not early in the night. The night was the perfect time to scheme! But Jack wasn't sure if he could trust Bond to give him the truth. She said she was schizophrenic, right? Wasn't that medical jargon for compulsive lying... or something? Jack would have to go sneak into a library to find─ oh, who was he fooling? He'd go to North. He probably knew something, right? The jolly old man had thousands of books. And surely some of the kids on his Nice and Naughty Lists were schizophrenic?
Instead of answering, Jack was contented to listen to the rest of the piece. Bond's shoulders were hunched now as she leaned in toward the piano, her fingers being pressured into each note with every bit of herself. Her eyes were squeezed shut during the lower notes, where the powerful feelings arose from each key. Jack watched her as she moved with the music, completely lost in her own world. Well, more so than she seemed to be usually. Bond seemed to be the kind of person to always be in her own world, aloof and quite unorthodox. It was quirky and very entertaining to Jack, so he thought to stick around.
Just as Bond was pressing a different set of notes that let off a sharp key change, a hand grabbed her arm with a slap. The music was stunted and the girl tried to jolt away.
"Hey! It was almost done! Just a few more measures, I swea─"
"I said your time was up, Ms. Clarke," the first attendant spoke as the second one grabbed Bond's other arm.
"Bond!" the brunette angrily corrected her. Bond didn't fight, however. She seemed to know when to stop, Jack noted.
Jack was about to freeze the ground again when a glare was sent his way. Bond faintly shook her head and walked away from the piano. Once the attendants saw that she was calm, they let go of her and went back to their business around the room, checking up on the other people. Most of the bystanders had begun paying attention when they saw that Bond had been forced to stop playing. It seemed like they all wanted to hear the end of the song. Jack knew that he did.
Hating to be standing around awkwardly, Jack found his way over to a window bench where Bond was sitting. He gestured to the space beside her, not wanting to speak, although no one but her would have heard him. She appeared dejected. Nodding slowly, she shifted and scratched her arm. He doubted she would attempt to speak to him here, but he'd let her have a moment to settle down. Perhaps she would realize she hadn't seen him last night. It must have been a dream. Jack sat on his toe tips, crouched with his staff anchored to the ground. Bond peered at him out of the corner of her eye and huffed her amusement. Jack didn't mind. He could sit however he wanted.
The room was large and empty with pale yellow walls and little stenciled birds. It was childish for all of these adults. Bond was the only younger one here, apart from the attendants. A question came to Jack's mind.
"You don't have to speak, just tap your finger. But, how old are you?" Jack leaned toward her at first, but back away when he realized that whispering wasn't necessary. He had done it more for her, since the room was dead quiet.
Bond narrowed her eyes, but didn't look directly at him. Her bare feet shuffled under her and she interlocked her toes. Jack wasn't sure why she was being reluctant. Maybe she hadn't heard him? Had he disappeared? Jack waved his hand in front of her face. Bond's immediate response was to swat it away, but her hand phased through his again. The dull shock made Jack withdraw his hand, holding it close. It didn't feel right. But, upon looking back at her, he saw that she was tapping her finger. After some time, she stopped and looked away.
Then Jack realized he didn't know when she started tapping and lost count. "Again?"
Bond tapped her finger on her knee. One, two, three... seventeen times. Bond was seventeen years old. Seventeen! Jack couldn't believe it. She was one year younger than Jamie. Granted, Jamie could still see him, but this was different. She didn't even believe he was Jack Frost. How could she still not believe? She'd seen him blast ice on the floor how many times now? Clearly he had an effect on everyone else. The people around the room were beginning to shiver and frost was crawling along the floor where he'd walked. One of the attendants walked over and closed the window. If Jack had been thinking about leaving, his chance was gone. He'd have to find another way later. So, what other questions could he ask?
"Two taps: yes. One tap: no," Jack instructed before he went on, "is this a hospital?"
Bond hesitated before waving her fingers and resting them again. There was no tapping in the movement. Jack furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of the answer. Was she just being difficult? Bond tapped twice and waved her fingers again. So, it was a yes? But it looked like Bond was unsure as well.
"A certain type of hospital?" Jack thought out loud.
"Mental," Bond coughed quietly. A few people looked in her direction, but otherwise paid her no mind.
A mental hospital. Jack had heard about them before, in passing, but he was never quite sure what was meant by it. He knew mental had to do with the brain, or mind. Weren't they the same? That was a philosophical question that Jack wasn't prepared to deal with, so he pushed it aside. So, Bond was a mental patient... she had whatever schizophrenia was... did that mean she would get better and leave eventually? What if she got better and couldn't see him anymore? Jack wasn't sure if her ability to see him was linked to schizophrenia, or other mental processes for that matter, but his sense of dread began to grow. He wanted to know more about all of it. More importantly, he wanted her to believe in him.
A thought struck his mind. "Do you believe in the Easter Bunny?" Jack tested.
As if incapable of being inconspicuous, Bond turned to face him with the most incredulous look. The attendants looked at her sudden movement, which Bond registered and refocused her eyes farther out. Nothing happened for a moment. Her eyes darted back to his, the brown and blue both exuding confusion. Biting her lip, she tapped her finger on her lap once. Jack asked about Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and Sandman. All of which came back with reluctant no's. Jack was left with the same amount of frustration that he'd started with. But he wanted to get to the bottom of this.
Suddenly, Bond scrambled away from the bench and plastered her body to a side of the column, her eyes staring wide at the back corner of the room that led to a hallway. It had been the way she'd come in. Jack instantly grabbed his staff and went over to her. He stood protectively in front of her and pointed his staff in the direction she had been looking. Nothing was there. Before Jack could say anything, the attendants came around and phased through him. He backed away and called out to her, but Bond didn't seem to listen. She kept staring fearfully, her eyes following something at head-height. Jack could hear her beginning to hyperventilate. Her fingers trembled and tears were dropping down her sallow cheeks. This girl was looking more and more ghostlike by the second, more and more like Jack. The attendants tried to calm the girl down, but she was entirely ignorant.
"NO!" Bond screamed, still not moving from her spot. "That's not true! They're not real! Especially not this fuck!" She pointed to Jack. No one else in the room understood her, but it dawned on Jack that he'd been insulted.
"Hey!" Jack stepped forward indignantly, but she still wouldn't look at him. She'd probably still phase right through him if they got any closer.
"Take that back!" Bond was crying now. "Stop... That's not true..." She slumped to the floor. "That's not true..." her tears streaked down to her chin and pooled. Bond placed her arms over her face and curled her legs toward her chest.
After a few long, painful moments, the attendants faced the rest of the people in the room, who had now become much more agitated. "It's lunchtime, everyone!" The first one called cheerfully. "Please make a line for the stairs and I'll bring you down shortly!" The pep in her speech was disgusting to Jack, and he could tell they were just trying to cover up the current situation.
"Take Ms. Clarke to her room, would you, Ellen?" The same attendant whispered quietly to the other, still kneeling beside the broken Bond. "And make sure she gets food. Force feed her if you have to."
The attendant agreed and pulled Bond up from underneath her arms. Bond's sniffles and tears were quieter now, but her hands could not be moved from her face. While this transaction took place, Jack wished he could do something. Perhaps he'd stay with her through this. She looked like she needed some fun in her life again.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack thought he saw a shadow dissipate through a cracked door.
A/N: In case you guys were wondering, the piano song that Bond was playing is called "Kiss the Rain" by Yiruma. I figured if I'm going to put a piece of myself into a character, I'm going to put in the piano skills. This is one of my favorite songs to play and I think you should check it out! It's so pretty and fitting for Bond. You'll see why in later chapters, of course! ;) Oh, and I'll have a drawing of Bond up shortly! I'm working on many of those as well. :)
Wow, I've talked a lot about myself today, haven't I? Hope you don't mind!
Have a wonderful day! :D