"Bunny?" whispered Jack, tugging on Bunny's arm. "Bunny, wake up."

Bunny mumbled something, turning away from the little boy. Jack huffed, his chest feeling heavy, nose full but not running, and he was warm. Jack tried to crawl out from his place but instead just couldn't find the energy to move. Instead, he tugged on Bunny's arm, feeling utterly miserable.

"Bunny," whimpered Jack.

"Jack, let Bunny sleep," said Pitch softly, crouching beside Jack.

He was smart enough not to try and lift the young boy who still scared easily, but he wanted to help; Jack was sick and needed medicine.

"Cold," sniffed Jack.

"May I pick you up?" asked Pitch, his fingers twitching with suppressed frustration, not used to having to ask for things.

Jack looked at the sleeping Bunny next to him, then back to Pitch, before slowly nodding his head. Pitch smiled and lifted Jack into his arms. The boy instantly huddled into the Nightmare King's coat, small hands gripping the collar of his shirt in a wrinkling grip. Pitch walked over to one of the couches and settled with the little boy in his arms, coaxing him into taking the cough syrup with quiet prodding and patience he didn't know he had.

"Jack," said Pitch when, after an hour, it became apparent that the boy was not falling back asleep.

Jack blinked up at Pitch with his blue eyes and it struck Pitch again how odd it was that the small version of Jack Frost did not talk nearly as much as the large version. He was beginning to wonder how much of older Jack's incessant chatter was due to having something to say and how much was to keep people from learning anything about him.

"Why don't you like people touching you?" asked Pitch, not sure that the young boy would understand his question but willing to give it a go.

Jack squirmed uncomfortably on the Nightmare King's lap, as if he wanted to run away but didn't have to energy to make the attempt, which was not far from the truth. After a moment, he settled, leaning his head against Pitch's chest, directly over his heart, letting the steady thrum calm him.

"People mean," said Jack quietly. "They no like me. They hurts me and laugh. It's no funny but they hits me for fun."

"Who hits you for fun, Jack?" asked Pitch patiently, unsure of why it was so important to him to know.

"Biggo people," sniffed Jack. "They says I bad and needs to learn a lesson. And they laugh."

It was the most Jack had ever said to Pitch in one sitting. He said it so calmly, as if he honestly believed that those people who hurt him were right, as if he deserved it, and when Pitch realized that was the case, he was disgusted with himself and everyone else for ever harming the boy. Jack had years of being told he was bad, centuries of being on the Naughty List, and countless encounters ending in injury working against him. He was young and small, overpowered by those larger than him and willing to believe those older that he really did deserve to be hurt. And Pitch had added to that.

"I won't hurt you," said Pitch softly.

"That's what they all say," said Jack, a bitterness shining in his tone that held no place in such a young voice. "They lie."

"I'm not lying," said Pitch calmly. "You don't have to believe me right now, but it's true, I won't hurt you. And I'll do you one better, I won't let others hurt you either."

"That's Bunny's job," said Jack with a small smile. "He tolds me that it's his job to protect me from the mean people acause he's my big brother."

"Then you have two people protecting you," chuckled Pitch. "Now sleep."

As Jack nodded off, Pitch settled back, stroking the white hair in a soothing fashion he had observed Bunny doing earlier. He had been right in thinking that Bunny and Jack stood a chance at surviving alone. It seemed that no matter what had happened to turn them young and human, they both instinctually remembered being alone and that drew them to each other. Bunny had always lived to protect those smaller and weaker than him and Jack fit that description perfectly while Jack had spent centuries fending for himself and finding ways to survive, so no matter what his age or situation, he would find a way to go about.

The next morning, Pitch woke to the sound of a crashing lamp hitting the ground and shattering into several sections.

"Jack Frost!" yelled Pitch, bolting out of his seat, glaring around to find exactly which lamp Jack managed to topple. "It's too early to be breaking things!"

"That was Tooth," yelled North. "Jack's in the kitchen with Bunny."

Pitch groaned.

"I don't care who it was," said Pitch, getting off the couch. "I want it cleaned up before breakfast."

"Uncle Pitch, I don't think Jack is supposed to be that color," said Bunny when Pitch meandered into the kitchen.

The two young boys were sitting on top of the table-Jack liked being on top of things- and Bunny was petting Jack's head where the small boy had placed it on his shoulder. Indeed, Jack had gone from a flushed pale face to almost translucent white, eyes glassy with fever, breath coming in short, small gasps as if he were fighting for each one.

"Shit," cursed Pitch, rushing to the boys.

"Language," warned Bunny, though he smirked.

"We need to get him to a hospital," announced Pitch.

"Okay," said Bunny. "Come on, Jacky, we're going to a hospital."

Pitch bit his lip, worried about how he was going to take the boy to the hospital and be seen at the same time. Clearly the Guardians had been turned human be Pitch didn't know if that extended to him. North wasn't old enough to take responsibility for the group and Pitch didn't trust him to listen at any rate.

"North, Tooth, Sandy, come on," said Pitch over his shoulder. "We're taking Jack to the hospital."

"How are we getting there?" asked Tooth, running in with a broom still in hand from cleaning her lamp mess. "I've always wanted to try driving. I think I'd be great at it."

Phil, who had been listening to the Guardians and Pitch, walked in and handed Pitch a snowglobe. Pitch nodded his thanks and turned to gather Jack into his arms, only to find Sandy had already done it, Bunny hovering anxiously at his elbow.

"Hospital," whispered Pitch before throwing the globe.

A glowing portal appeared and without hesitation the group walked into the swirling colors. On the other side, they found themselves just inside a pair of sliding glass doors in a hospital, the sickening smell of antiseptic and needles filling their nostrils, making Jack start to cry.

"May I help you?" asked a young nurse behind a desk, her face kind and heart shaped.

"Yes, me, um," stuttered Pitch, surprised that the nurse was looking right at him. "I have a very sick child."

"Okay, if you'll just fill these papers out, I'll see what we can do," said the nurse, handing Pitch a clipboard of papers and pen. "You may take a seat over there and if you have any questions, my name is Nona, I'd be happy to help you."

Pitch thanked her and walked over to the chairs, ushering his hoard of children with him. Sandy immediately sat down next to him, Jack in his arms, still draped over his shoulder, struggling to breathe. Bunny glared at Pitch as if it were his fault and moved to go back to the desk when Jack stopped him.

"Bunny," gasped Jack, tears still streaming down his face. "Wanna sit with you."

Sandy smiled and let Bunny sit on his other side before handing off the toddler to him. Once Jack was safely settled with Bunny, Sandy turned to help Pitch with the paperwork. Tooth wandered about the room, curiously looking at the various posters while North marched up to the desk.

"Look, my little brother is very sick," said North to Nona abrasively. "He can't breathe and you really want us to fill out some stupid papers before you see him?"

"I'm sorry, sugar," said Nona, not a bit bothered by his attitude. "It's hospital policy. But if you like, I'm not busy right now, I can check his temperature and listen to his lungs. That should help speed the process along."

"Yes please," said North.

Jack was willing to sit quietly with Bunny, cough occasionally but lacking the energy to do more than that, until Nona approached him with a thermometer. He took one look at her and buried his head further into Bunny's neck, as if hiding his face hid the rest of him.

"What's his name?" asked Nona, looking at Bunny, noting his protective tightening arms around the small boy, and understanding that she needed to get on his good side before she could hope to touch the sick boy.

"What do you want?" asked Bunny, eyes narrowing in distrust.

"My name is Nona and I'm a nurse," said Nona with her easy smile. "What's your name?"

"Bunny," said Bunny, causing Pitch to silently groan.

"Bunny, that's a nice name," said Nona.

"It's a nickname," informed Bunny. "My real name's Aster but I only get called that when I'm in trouble."

"I understand. Nona is short for Winonna but only my mother calls me that. Is that your little brother?"

"Jacky is sick," said Bunny. "And he doesn't like strangers."

"Well I'm not a stranger now, am I? We know each other's names. I just want to take his temperature and listen to him breathe a little bit. He can sit right there with you."

"Jacky," said Bunny softly, nudging the kid with his nose. "Nona wants to help you feel better so she's going to take your temperature."

"No," whimpered Jack, shaking his head weakly. "Don't let her take me away."

"You can stay with your brother," assured Nona, making a mental note of the obvious separation anxiety and aversion to strangers. "I promise. It won't hurt a bit."

"Jack, let Miss Nona help you," said Pitch absently.

Eventually, Jack sat quietly and let Nona take his temperature and listen to his breathing. When that was finished, she wrote down the results and went back to the desk to create a file for him, thanking Pitch when he turned in the paper work.

"Excuse me, Mr. Black?" said Nona softly. "I noticed that Jack doesn't have the same last name as you. Where are his parents?"

"I'm their uncle," said Pitch. "The kids live with me."

"I see," said Nona, making a note. "And I noticed that Jack has separation anxiety. What can you tell me about that?"

"Jack's home life was not good," said Pitch easily, after all, it wasn't much of a lie. "It was an abusive household so he doesn't let many people touch him and is afraid of being abandoned. Is that going to be an issue?"

"It shouldn't be, I just want to be careful not to put more stress on his body with panic attacks and such, so I want to be sure we avoid triggers. His temperature is high and I don't like the sound of his lungs."

"Is he going to be alright?"

"He'll be fine with a bit of medication and rest," said Nona with a smile. "We'll probably want to keep him overnight at least, but he will be fine. Is this your first time with a sick child?"

"Is it that obvious?" said Pitch with a rueful grin. "I never planned on having children but then things changed. They needed a caretaker."

"It's very sweet of you to take in five young kids," said Nona. "Most people wouldn't do that."

"They're a right pain sometimes, but I couldn't turn them away. They've been through too much already."

"Well, if you need anything at all, please, just give me a call," said Nona, handing Pitch a card with her number on it. "They're sweet kids and I'd be happy to help."

Pitch blinked in surprise. As the Nightmare King, no one had ever offered to help him before in his life. Nona seemed so genuine and concerned, though, that he couldn't help but smile and take the card. He was about to reply when Jack's name was called, ruining the opportunity as Pitch had to rush off with his charges to find out what was wrong with the youngest, but he could not wipe the smile off his face nor shake the warm comfort of the card in his back pocket.