Bunny stumbled into the Warren on all fours, too tired for his usual grace or to even try at the dignity of two feet. He avoided looking at the decimated eggs and their shells littering the tunnels, too exhausted as much emotionally as physically to clean them up just yet.

...maybe he'd use the shells to make a mural for the weekend, to celebrate gaining a new Guardian. He'd done some kind of art project for each of the others, may as well make something joyful out of this pain, pull victory from defeat. It seemed fitting, somehow, that the thing that had almost driven Jack away from them be used to show that he was one of them.

Thinking of the others had his half–asleep feet moving without realizing just where he was going until he was there, looking over the gardens he'd made for their marriage, each section abloom with flowers he'd chosen to symbolize each of them individually. He sat back on his haunches to look over the gentle valley and the flowers blooming there, just taking in the sight and scent of the flowers.

...how long had it been since he'd tended these gardens, he suddenly wondered. He'd barely even visited them over the last few hundred years, trusting the magic of the Warren to keep them safe and tended for him while he focused on his job, the eggs and chocolate. He hadn't even shown it to the others, had barely let them into the Warren until this Easter, he realized with a start.

Looking over the gardens, he suddenly came to full alertness, ears pricking forward as he realized something else.

When he made a garden, he usually went all out, but these...each Guardian was separate, their section of the garden strictly kept away from the other five. It had been a style choice before, to show how each was separately important to him, but now...it just felt wrong. And to make matters worse...the realization hit him with all the force of one of Pitch's nightmares that the flowers he'd chosen for each were only here, in this garden, and the sections were all the same shape and general design.

Nothing to personalize them for each Guardian beyond flower choice, and even then they were mostly by color rather than meaning, almost like he'd just been going through the motions for a Marriage Garden without the spirit behind it, despite how excited and heady those first decades had been, nothing to keep them in his thoughts when he was in the rest of the Warren, nothing connecting them all together.

It was a Marriage Garden in form only by now, not in spirit or symbol.

Well, he could start doing something about each of those, at least. He bounded away, fetching sketch paper from the burrow and dragging it out into the light, pen flying across the paper as he designed, exhaustion forgotten in the surge of inspiration.

Swirls for Sandy, to go through the Warren proper and lead back to this garden, plus around and through the Marriage Gardens...he'd need more red and white, for North, maybe some oaks and evergreens to shade the other gardens, sturdy and strong...purples and golds for Tooth, and something sweet but strong...Jack, what kind of flowers for a winter spir...snowdrops! Snowdrops, for hope and the meeting of spring and winter! And mints, fresh and clean and energizing, just like Jack!

He was still designing when the weekend caught up with him and he slid off to sleep, curled protectively around the sketchpad, ears twitching as flowers and designs danced through his dreams.

Tooth was directing the fairies as soon as the others had disappeared, not quite ready to rest, too full of nervous energy and knowing that she would be unable to rest even if she tried. After an hour or two, the newly christened Baby Tooth – and did Jack know what he'd done, accidentally, by naming her? Even if it was in passing, it had stuck and she already was different from her sisters, more assertive if nothing else – fussed at her, gathering a group of her sisters to join in fussing at Tooth until she agreed to go rest.

She wasn't sure she liked the idea, since her rests had always been few and far between, hardly ever leaving the baby teeth without guidance, but they kept insisting they let her try, give them practice for tomorrow, until she reluctantly headed toward her seldom used bedroom.

She was still too jittery for sleep, so she took a little detour, down the hall to the room she kept mementos and relics in. Smiling gently, she ran her fingers over the jewelry box that had belonged to her mother, the saber her father had owned, the ruby box that had been the gift of both of them to her that still held her own baby teeth. North's tooth box was kept here, alongside Katherine's, protected and safe in the heart of her palace.

The other Guardians were too alien to have lost baby teeth for her to keep safe, had grown up too far away for her to have even had a chance to collect them if they had lost them. She was fairly sure Jack still had his tooth box, but she couldn't find it in her to be angry at him for not returning it to her yet for safekeeping. When he did, she'd place it here, with the others.

She'd have to ask about it, sooner or later, if only to help him fully access the memories inside and be sure he'd seen them all properly. She was assuming he'd watched some of them, at least, though she couldn't be sure. But she wanted him to – he'd deserve it even if he'd turned them down flat. And he'd been so eager, so desperate to know...

The thought made her sigh. Of course she'd jumped to conclusions that morning, when they'd seen Jack standing there with no Baby Tooth and a tooth box, knowing how much he wanted it, and while Jack seemed to understand why she had, she still felt guilty. Well, they had a very long time to work that through, when all was said and done.

She paused to look up at the mural in this room, one that had flaked thanks to the children's fading belief but hadn't deteriorated as badly as the one by her pond. Each Guardian smiled down at her from it, separate yet united. Blinking, she floated up to touch her hand to the spot she'd almost unconsciously left open – right in the middle, and just the right size for Jack, as though they'd always been waiting for him to compete them.

She'd have to ask Bunny if he'd come and fix up the murals in her palace, and ask him to pay special attention to this one. If he could spare the time...

The thought brought her back down to the ground, clutching hands above her suddenly aching heart. When had it turned into if Bunny could come by, if she – or he – could think of a reason to visit? When had they just...stopped? Their jobs were important, but when had they become more important than something as simple as each other?

She sank to her knees with a little sob. How were they going to fix all of this? They hadn't even realized they were broken until today, when it was practically shoved into their faces! There had to be something...with a deep breath, she rose back to her feet. Her girls were right – she was too tired to think straight about this right now, if she was this emotional about it already. It was time for her to get some rest, and she could try thinking this through when she met the others at the Pole.

Sandy formed his cloud and set off into the sky, sending out dreams to the children as he went. It was second nature by now, and he napped often enough that he didn't need rest now, despite everything that had happened today. He'd even napped while working before, though he wasn't going to for awhile, not when the children had already been plagued by nightmares while he was gone.

Besides, each time he closed his eyes right now, he could feel the nightmare sand creeping over his body, making him lose cohesion and dissolve into a drift of sand. It would pass, as all things did, but for now he'd rather stay awake.

At the moment, it felt as if nothing had happened, despite the hectic activity of the past few days, settling back into the same as it had never been. He couldn't say he was happy about that. He'd been used to being alone, enough that when the four of them had begun drifting apart he'd simply slept more and never even noticed how rare it was to see the others now without some kind of emergency.

He wondered, as he sent out more dream sand, if things were really going to change. The little time he'd had with Jack told him Jack needed the attention, but if he was reading Jack right...Jack was going to blame himself if they drifted apart, think he wasn't good enough or just retreat into himself until he couldn't be the Guardian of Fun or Joy anymore...since it was impossible to guard something you had none of yourself.

Sandy doubted the others had noticed yet just how badly Jack seemed to want their attention – badly enough to forgive them so much already – but he had.

Usually it took Sandy ages to make a decision, but this once...this decision was easy. He was going to have to try harder this time, to keep things going, if only for Jack's sake. Drifting apart could very well destroy Jack's very center, and he'd do whatever he had to to keep that from happening.

They'd gotten so bad, Sandy could remember years on end when he hadn't 'spoken' to any of them, save a wave as North rushed by on his yearly rounds or to Tooth's baby teeth as they collected teeth. Years he'd spent mostly asleep, drifting around the world on his cloud, letting the dreams spread without his aid.

Though...now that he thought about it...several times the baby teeth had been more interested in him than in getting back to Tooth. Almost as if...no, the baby teeth couldn't have been trying to fix things if even the Guardians themselves hadn't realized they had broken.

...could they?

Jack was still asleep when North woke the next morning, the older Guardian noticed when he looked out the window in the small sitting room connected to his bedroom. The yeti had set up a guard over the sleeping spirit after he'd landed in a snowbank outside the Pole, even though there was little threat to him here.

The guard had changed several times during the night, despite the cold not bothering the yeti with their thick coats, and it comforted North to see them watching over Jack so attentively, almost as if trying to make up for keeping him out of the Pole for all those years.

He might not have known where Jack was without the yeti standing guard over him, despite having a clear view of Jack's chosen spot from his window. There was little sign of Jack himself – he'd near buried himself in the snow, just a little hint of brown there, a peek of blue here peeping out from under the thin layer of snow covering him to give him away. It was a little disturbing, if North were honest with himself, but the yeti were keeping close enough watch to let him know if anything were wrong.

He sat in his huge chair in front of the window, warm cup of cocoa forgotten in his hands as he stared over the snow. Sleep had been long in coming last night despite his exhaustion, and the thoughts that had kept him awake were still running through his head.

North didn't want to believe it was as bad as the others had said...but he'd been thinking it over all night, and for once, he had to admit defeat. They were falling apart, had been for years. When was the last time they'd been together just for each others' company, with no other reason then they felt like it? When had he been willing to let the yeti work on their own so he could take a break and visit the others rather than obsess over his holiday, or build something new for the sake of its wonder even if it had nothing to do with Christmas?

He was just as guilty as the others were...he'd been so wrapped up in creating new toys, new wonders, he hadn't even seen a child in longer than he could remember, hadn't left the Pole save for his once yearly route in just as long.

Feeling rather guilty for thinking it, but hoping it all the same, North hoped Jack was tired enough to sleep the day away. He had a feeling the meeting later was going to get messy, and the last thing they needed was Jack walking in on it. Not while they weren't sure yet how to break the news that the oath he'd taken meant that he'd married all of them, and more so while they tried to begin fixing what had broken.

North had the yetis set up a room deep inside the Pole for this meeting, with foods set out for the other Guardians...and he hoped he wasn't insulting them, that he'd remembered what they liked. It hurt to realize, but as he'd sent the request for the food he'd had flashes of memory, meetings as they had begun to drift apart where he'd been forgetful enough to just have his usual diet up for offer at these meetings, meat and cookies predominant.

Meat and cookies, for someone who couldn't...or wouldn't, they'd never really gotten the full story of that...eat meat and another obsessed with dental care. Sandy barely ate, but it was light foods when he did, and while a cookie or two might make the cut, meat certainly didn't.

Well, he tossed back the eggnog like it was water, but eggnog hardly counted.

The door opened as North continued to brood over the food, and he turned and brightened as Sandy floated into the room. Sandy grinned as he saw the spread, the look easing a little of the knot in North's stomach even as the tiny bit of guilt refused to stop.

As Sandy floated toward the table, North scooped the dreamweaver up into his arms. He held Sandy close, gently, reminding himself again that Sandy was fine now, back and here with all of them, barely able to keep himself from crushing Sandy to his chest.

Sandy pulled back just enough to press his mouth to North's, his favorite form of affection. North returned the kiss with interest, as if to make up for all the time passed, all the opportunities missed.

North pulled away finally, just enough to pepper kisses over Sandy's face, the smaller spirit silently giggling and obviously enjoying the attention. He ran his small hands over North's hair when North stopped, burying his face in the space between Sandy's shoulder and neck and just holding him.

There was a soft buzzing vibration as two more arms wrapped around Sandy and North's shoulders, Tooth's head coming to rest on North's free shoulder. Warmth enveloped them as Bunny draped himself over North's back, wrapping around all of them.

Later, they'd never be able to say who started crying first or who said the first "I'm sorry." As one they slowly dropped to the floor, still holding each other tightly, uncaring of tears that soaked feathers, cloth, fur, and sand as they held each other close.

None of them could say how long they stayed like that, just wrapped up in each other, drawing in the scent and warmth and feel of skin and sand and feathers and fur that they'd denied each other for so many years without meaning to.

Slowly they broke apart, coughing and rubbing at eyes and faces, not looking at each other. There were napkins on the table, and though they didn't do much for feathers or sand or thick fur, they still mopped at reddened eyes and faces.

Even though there were chairs set up around the table, they sank to the pile of cushions by the fire instead, still reaching for each other, almost as if the others would disappear if they didn't touch to be sure they were still there.

The room was quiet save for soft murmurs, the crackling of the fire, and faint sounds of the workshop that filtered through the heavy doors.

Eventually Tooth sighed, stroking her hand lightly across one of Bunny's ears. "How did we get so bad?" she asked softly, voice heavy with regret.

North sighed. "I...did not think we had gotten so," he admitted. Bunny snorted softly, flicking an ear, but didn't comment. "Not until last night, when I truly thought it over. But is true. Is much worse than I thought."

"I couldn't remember the last time I brought all of ya ta the Warren," Bunny said quietly, shifting so Tooth could reach more of his fur. "Or the last time we were all together without a threat to th' kids involved."

There was silence for a time again before Tooth shifted. "I...I think," she said, voice subdued, "that I just kept thinking that there was always so much to do, it wouldn't matter if I put off visiting for just a little longer, to get the work done. If I could just finish this next batch, then I could take some time..."

"But then there was always more to do," North finished the thought for her. "And there was always more time to visit, later, and then..."

"Then we'd gone years without seeing each other," Bunny finished.

Sandy tossed up sand signs, too fast and jumbled to be understood completely, but the general idea was easy enough to understand – they had to fix this, for themselves as much as for Jack. And if they drifted apart again after bringing Jack in...

"Sandy, ya don't really think..." Bunny started, ears going up in alarm as Sandy nodded.

*Broken heart equal sign broken snowflake*

Knowing he had their attention, Sandy kept going with his signs, getting harder to read by the minute. Once, they might have understood, but now...

"Let me see if I understand," Tooth said finally. "If we bring Jack in and then break his heart, even by accident, you think we'll...break his center?"

Sandy nodded solemnly. Can't be the Guardian of Joy if you have no Joy.

"First we start for ourselves," North said, arms tightening around the others. "Cannot be solid for others if not solid foundation to build on. But...where to begin?"