He felt inward, searching out the breaks in his soul. His core. It was fundamental to his very being, and tied directly to his staff. Somewhere out there in the world, his staff was in poor condition. He breathed shallowly, even though the pain wasn't coming from his body.

It was so warm. He opened his eyes, staring at the leafy canopy above him. Jack supposed it was beautiful, in a way. Sunlight filtered through the green leaves, while flowers were blooming all over the place. Spring was colorful. Pretty.

Deadly.

Yet, not. Not the way he was now, anyway.

He hopped to the ground, watching as children started to stream out of school. He turned away, disappearing into the woods. He didn't want to see Jamie after the confrontation he'd just had with the Guardians. He didn't think he'd be able to keep his temper in check.

Jack was a little disappointed in himself. He'd thought he had control of himself. That he could remain cold and aloof, even as he laughed and had fun. Why couldn't he keep himself in check?

He hadn't been lying, though.

Blizzards were necessary. Snowstorms were needed. Winter was viewed as the death of the season, but it was more like the sleep. The recovery from the vigor-filled seasons of spring and summer.

Autumn was when the world was put to rest.

Winter was when it slept.

Jack reached his lake and knelt down, dipping his hand in the water. It didn't frost, not even a little. He considered, then poured a little of his power into his hand.

The entire lake froze.

He yanked his hand free and scowled, walking away. This was such a catastrophe. All those decades, centuries, of yearning for interaction, and yet… only a year after he met the Guardians, it all fell apart. Jack walked without looking where he was going, eyes fixed on the soft carpet of grass he tread upon.

An earth-shaking screech jolted him out of his depression. Jack instinctively leapt back, looking up as a large shadow blocked out the sun. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the monstrous bird above him. It beat it's wings, making the trees bend back, as it screeched again.

A roc. Those stupid birds of prey were huge and strong. Like any mythological monster, it liked to eat large animals like whales and the occasional cow, but for some reason it's favorite food was usually humans -

His thoughts strayed to the town behind him.

Burgess.

It was here to prey on Burgess.

Fortunately for him - or more likely, unfortunately - rocs liked the taste of spirits just as much. It's eyes focused on him as the roc opened it's beak, screeching a third time. The sound echoed far, almost deafening him.

Jack blinked.

He smiled. "Hello," he said. He clambered up the trees, hanging on easily though the branches whipped around in the wind. The roc's eyes were as large as his entire body, but Jack looked back at them fearlessly. Frost crept out from his grip as Jack felt his walls crumble into nothingness.

He leapt away as the roc stabbed it's beak in his direction, somersaulting backwards. His feet pressed against the bark as he hooked his arm around the trunk. The entire tree turned into an ice sculpture instantly.

The roc pecked at him, forcing him to twist and tumble, the sound of the wind roaring in his ears. It was so strong, it might be able to pick him up without his staff. He let go, feeling his body get wrenched into the sky. Jack watched the world turn upside down.

He threw his hand out, trailing sparkles of blue. The color of lips when they grow pale, the color of ice in it's darkest depths - and the color of shadows on the purest snow.

As Jack landed behind the roc, he clenched his fist, causing the magic to explode outward in small shards of ice. The roc kicked up a fuss as the ice hit it's feathers, waving it's wings and stomping it's taloned feet as it searched for Jack. He laughed a little as he skipped around on the ground, staying out of sight.

The ground iced with his every step, the patches spreading fast. As Jack darted in, he tapped the roc's leg as he passed by, his touch barely felt. However, the roc screamed with pain.

His power was flowing freely.

In seconds, all the veins in the roc's left leg were frozen. In addition, the cold bit into the bones, cracking them deeply. The roc took to the air, screeching furiously as it's silhouette spread across the sky. Jack looked up as it dove down, beak wide open to swallow him.

Jack slammed his fist into the ground.

The roc dove too quickly. It was unable to react as needles of ice, slim and piercing but incredibly thin, shot up to the heavens, piercing through the roc. A strangled squawk escaped it as blood spurted out of it's breast, painting the ground red with blood.

Yet it was not dead.

"You're immortal," Jack murmured, walking beneath it. The blood froze where he stepped, leaving him untouched. A cold haze of fog lifted from the ground, an unnatural result of his power.

"We all are, aren't we?" He watched the roc struggle weakly, trying to free itself from the needles. But they were strong, and all the roc accomplished was pushing the needles further through it's body. It screamed again before going limp, it's large wings and tail feathers resting heavily on the trees.

He made a sharp cutting motion, and the needles broke apart and vanished. The roc collapsed to the ground with an alarming thud. Burgess was going to have some crazy earthquake readings today - of that Jack was certain.

Softly walking forward, he placed a gentle hand upon the roc's head, feeling it shiver at his touch. Even unconscious, on the brink of death, his cold was too much for it. Jack stroked it's cheek, watching it's eyelids flicker. The roc was truly strong. Normally, it would have taken him longer to defeat it.

Now… don't rocs normally travel in flocks?

He closed his eyes, listening. He could hear screeching, but far in the distance.

"I guess I may as well," he said, as if to himself. "Why not? I haven't got much longer anyway."


"No!"

Sandy let out a silent sigh. He hated arguing with his fellow Guardians. They tended to ignore his signs and just spoke over him, an easy feat when he made no sound. He formed an image, but Bunny rudely swiped through it with his paw. "If he wants to run off, let him! He said it himself, he's a grown kid! He can handle himself!"

"He's not a child," Tooth added. She looked as if she were on the brink of tears as she shouted, "No child says that! How could he! How - how could he…" The fairy flew in circles agitatedly, biting her lip.

North nodded in agreement. "Is his choice. If he wishes to return, he will. End of story." A yeti came over and said something frantically. North heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Elves are raiding my workshop. I need to fix damage - you should all return to duties too."

Sandy quickly flashed signs at them, but they didn't understand, or they didn't care to look. He almost growled in frustration, with sandy steam coming out of his ears.

His comrades! They were honorable friends, but sometimes Sandy wanted to take them by the shoulders and shake them! He watched Tooth flit out the open window. Bunny left hurriedly as well. They felt guilt and sympathy, but were too stubborn to admit it.

Wait, stubborn might not be the right word.

Prideful?

No. Maybe it was shame. Sandy could sympathize, but he knew some of the fault lay with Jack. He'd done too much, really. He'd said too much. And of course it wouldn't go over well, especially with the way the youth had worded things.

Still, most of the blame lay with the four original Guardians.

They'd been Guardians longer than Jack, and thus had a responsibility to shoulder the youth's shortcomings. They also had a responsibility to shoulder their own weaknesses, which was something they hadn't had to do for, oh, such a long time. Sandy couldn't even remember.

He shook his head. They wouldn't listen. And Jack -

Something was wrong with him.

He'd sensed it during the fight, but perhaps he'd been too eager to demonstrate Jack's point. The youth had been in pain, if ever so slightly, though not from outside forces. Something internal. If Sandy had to hazard a guess, it had something to do with Jack's powers.

Ever since the staff had gone missing, the youth seemed almost imbalanced.

Sandy had thought the staff was the source of Jack's powers. But then, why did the winter spirit seem to be getting more powerful? As if the staff weren't a conduit but a regulator, something to keep the youth in check.

But that was ridiculous.

That meant Jack had to have been born with an insane amount of power, and he would have been way more frantic about finding his staff.

He sighed and grabbed a goblet of eggnog, gulping the whole thing down. Tooth wasn't likely to cave, and Bunny would never admit he was in the wrong. North might be willing to at least lend him a few snowglobes once he'd had time to cool down, but Sandy doubted the Russian would take time off just to go searching for Jack.

There were only a couple hundred days until Christmas.

And the guy was a workaholic.

They all were, really. Sandy noticed an elf trying to lick the dregs from his goblet and yanked it away irritably. He put the cup down before summoning up a cloud of sand. Jack had way too much of a head start, probably miles away from Burgess by now.

Sandy formed his cloud into a fighter plane, setting a course for Burgess. It was a long trip, so boring he actually fell asleep during the ride.

He woke up when his plane crashed into the forest.

Shaking himself awake, Sandy floated upwards, then stared in surprise. Before him, resting on the leafy treetops, was the body of a roc. It was badly wounded, it's blood dripping into large pools of red. One of it's eyelids was partially open, though the eye itself was glazed over with pain.

Sandy showered the poor bird's head with dreamsand before looking around. The culprit was clear - the air was still cold, and ice coated everything in sight. There was even a light mist close to the ground, the remnants of the cold breath of winter.

He could understand why Jack had destroyed the roc. In this state, it would take ages to recover, and would think twice before approaching this particular town again. Still, why was there ice everywhere?

A trail of frost led away from the site. Sandy flew close to it, reaching out to touch it. He thought perhaps he could send his dreamsand along the path, seeking out Jack.

He jerked his hand back.

The air beside the trail was cold - unbelievably freezing. Sandy likened the feeling to the dead of winter in Antarctica, when even the elves knew better than to leave the workshop. One step outside the workshop and they turned stiff and shivering, becoming a popsicle in minutes.

Not ice. This wasn't a trail of ice. This was winter magic, raw and unbridled. Sandy suspected that if he did actually touch it, his hand would freeze.

Which would be a pain, but not the real problem here.

Why was Jack's magic all over the place? Like a faucet left unchecked, winter was left behind in his footsteps.

There was a screech from behind him. Sandy turned to see the roc, apparently awake and ready to move, beating it's wings furiously in an attempt to rise. It's large feathers brushed the icy ground below, and the roc shrieked as the tips of the feathers were suddenly encased in ice.

It attempted to stand, but it's feet suffered the same problem. It pulled and tugged at it's feet, but they remained firmly frozen to the ground. The roc screeched frantically as it bent to peck at the ice, to no avail.

Sandy chuckled silently at it's predicament. He might've felt more sympathetic, were it not for the bird's diet. He cast another handful of dreamsand in it's direction before rising into the air, following the icy blue glow.


He found the boy half a week later, up on the mountain slopes.

Jack sat upon a single stone. It was dark, the night lacking either starlight or moonlight. The boy had been staring in his direction when he arrived, no doubt alerted to his presence by his golden glow. The first words out of Jack's mouth were, "I guess the others aren't coming, then?"

Sandy shook his head, studying the boy with worry. His skin was pale - but it had been a healthy sort of white before. Now, it was a bluish-grey, and it clung to his bones. In addition, the winter spirit was shivering.

As if he were cold.

"That's okay," Jack said, his voice resigned. Tired blue eyes glinted up at him as the boy added, "You really shouldn't be here either. It's only a matter of time."

Sandy made a clock and a question mark.

"Before I die, of course."

Sandy's eyes widened, and Jack hastened to tell him, "It's not that bad! Really! It's just, I can't find my staff, and it's probably in pieces anyway. That staff is all I have left of my mortal life. I have my clothes too, but they changed with me." His face fell. "Could you tell the other Guardians that I'm sorry?"

Fervently shaking his head, Sandy flew forward, grabbing Jack's hands. He regretted it instantly - the spirit was almost as cold as the ice he inadvertently created - but he formed a map, a staff, and a question mark.

Jack understood. "How was I finding my staff?" he checked. Sandy nodded.

The winter sprite opened his mouth, then flinched and curled in on himself. It lasted no more than a second, but Sandy saw genuine pain on Jack's face. Then the boy relaxed. "I wasn't," he admitted.

Sandy looked around. The mountain was bare, covered in snow and ice. It was completely isolated from any life. Actually, now that he looked closer, the ice was the same that he'd followed. Out of control cold that froze and burned mercilessly.

If Jack had that much power, he probably was dying.

Which would be bad news for anyone nearby. Sandy insistently formed a map, a staff, and a question mark once more.

Jack shrugged. "I don't know anymore." His eyes widened. "Oh. Uh, Sandy, there's kind of a bird. Flock. Behind you."

The word flock had Sandy whirling around, searching the dark sky for figures. A mass was growing in the sky, a shifting, twisting mass that made a faint sound. He could sense they were miles away, which was worrying considering how large they already appeared.

"There they are," Jack muttered. He sat up, eyes bright. "I was looking for them, you know. I lost track of them, but I guess they found me." He staggered to his feet, fists clenching. Sandy looked at the boy in alarm.

Jack looked determined. Sandy could almost feel the magic pulsing beneath the boy's skin, ready to lash out at the flock. Before he could think it through, Sandy formed a ball of dreamsand, throwing it into Jack's face. Jack twitched back, but not quickly enough.

When he collapsed, Sandy caught him. He immediately regretted it.

The boy was really, really cold.

Even though his body was made of sand, he could feel it. He quickly made a bed and laid Jack on it, sighing with disapproval when the bed was immediately covered in hard, unyielding ice.

Alright… Now for the rocs.

Sandy thought for a moment, then summoned up a flurry of manta rays, dolphins, dinosaurs, and swords. He gave a confused look at the swords until he realized those were Jack's dreams. He shrugged, dispelling them. Who needs swords?

Suddenly Jack lurched to his feet. "Stupid… you…" he slurred, leaning heavily on a nearby rock. He glared as best as he could at Sandy. "Rocs… Can't handle a herd of ponies, no chance against…"

He groaned. "Walls…"

Then the rocs descended. Sandy created thick ropes of sand that whipped them away, but their claws and beaks were effective at tearing through. He quickly discovered that rocs were not affected by his dreamsand - something he learned the hard way when he cast out a cloud of the stuff, only to have the rocs shoot through, undeterred.

"Get down!"

Jack tackled him from the side, sending them rolling away. Immediately the boy jumped to his feet, eyes scanning the fight above. Dreamsand cascaded in waves as dream after dream was torn down. Jack yanked Sandy back to the rock.

"Stay here," he said grimly before ducking back out, shooting out a stream of magic. Sandy yanked him back, noticing as he did so that Jack had coated the remaining dreams in ice. He also noticed that Jack's skin was even paler, nearly transparent, with veins of faintly glowing light showing.

Jack was breathing hard. "Make more," he said briefly. Sandy nodded, creating a small army of penguins. A quick touch and they were off in their icy armor.

They sat there for a moment.

"I can't think," Jack mumbled.

Sandy gave him a confused look. Then his eyes widened as Jack's left sleeve appeared to inflate, with a crystal hand emerging from the opening. It flexed a few times before Jack nodded. "Let's go."


Sorry, this chapter's not so good because I lost interest, and it's been a while… The next should be better, I promise. It'll even be funny - not. Get ready for a full-on Guardians vs Jack fight, because I'm tired of Jack always losing. They needed him for god's sake! Why is he always losing?

No one's dying, though. (: