[Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or any of its characters. Also, I can't write accents to save my life so thanks for bearing with me.]

The night before Jack's accident, North had the worst stomach ache of his life. It felt like a thunder storm, but Jack's fall had felt so much worse.

The morning of the accident he had checked the ice. It was a bit thin perhaps, but thick enough for now. Maybe he would put up some safety signs, just in case...

"Shostakovich," he cursed under his breath, "Is all my fault."

He hadn't put up those stupid signs.

A boy had fallen through the ice, almost taking his sister with him.

Jack might never wake up because of North's own forgetfulness.

He was only 17 years old. North didn't know when the boy's birthday was, but the idea that he might never reach 18 sent a shiver up his spine. Jack frost might die a child.

He was in hospital again, Mrs Overland had snuck him into Jack's room and nobody made an effort to remove him. In their eyes he was a hero. They didn't know about the signs.

He had met Jack on his first day at school. Having recently moved all the way from Russia, North had not known a single soul. Jack had latched onto him almost immediately.

"Hey there, big guy!" He'd grinned, "You're looking a bit lost. First day?"

"Da," North had affirmed and, if possible, Jack's grin widened.

"Russian" he'd queried, and upon North's nod, continued, "I went there once on holiday. Very cold. Lots of snow. I loved it!"

North boomed a laugh, "Vell Russia is best."

"That it is," Jack laughed, "Now let's get you to first period."

Jack told him where he sat for lunch in case North wanted to join. It was a kind gesture that ultimately went ignored. In biology he had met Aster, who immediately warned him off of Jack Frost.

"Tha' show pony ain't nothin' but trouble. If yer wanna get expelled in yah first week, yer on the right path, mate."

And so North had sat with Aster, completely oblivious to the small smile that slid off Jack's face as he realised he'd be spending another year alone.

Jack tried, with a facade of enthusiasm masking his desperation, to earn North's friendship. He'd invite him over, attempt to lure into pranks or games, and even went as far as knocking on his door (they were, after all, neighbours). Phil had answered and they pretended North was out, but North knew his hiding place was ameturish at best. Jack got the message. Eager attempts at friendship faded into nods of acknowledgement, and eventually, nothing at all.

North had abandoned Jack when he obviously needed a friend. He was a coward, scared of being more different than he already was. And now Jack might die, friendless and alone.

"Tchaikovsky," a different composer, a different curse, "Jack, I have been bad person, da?"

Jack made no move to deny this. His unusually dull, brown hair was combed back, and there was no smile upon his face. It was worse than uncanny. He did not seem at peace, in fact, he didn't seem much of anything at all as the machine breathed for him. Jack Frost was a sculpture carved from ice; with the faintest touch he might shatter.

"Tooth visited," North acknowledged, glancing at the small feather by Jack's bedside, "she is quiet now. Not herself. Did she ask you to vake up?"

No response, of course.

"She gave you gift. I too bring gift. It is like Christmas. You vake, you get present."

And from his pocket he brought a small wooden doll. It sat with wide eyes, next to the feather.

"This us my center, Jack," he explained to the sleeping boy, "I see the wonder in everything. But it not help now. You need to vake up. Maybe...if this is my center, it can help you find yours. Maybe that brings you back to us."

North paused, gently clasping the boy's shoulder.

"I apologise now, for abandoning you in time of need. I am sorry, Jack. When you wake, I tell you this in person, da?"

North said his piece once, but in his head he screamed it to the heavens over, and over, and over again.

Behind the door, Mrs Jackson heard his words and turned to sob into her husbands shaking arms.