"My sisters and I have walked the length and breadth of Hokkaido, Snow Lord," the yuki-onna said. Strands of her long, inky hair floated in the winter wind. "Nothing lives here, save for spirits. And even we are fewer than we once were."

Jack couldn't quite keep the disappointment from his face. "Thank you, winter sister," he said, remembering his manners. The snow women might like him, but even Jack would earn their rage if he was less than polite. And he needed to be on their good side; these days, the yuki-onna understood how precious life was, and would probably alert him first, rather than simply kill any mortal who met them.

He couldn't afford to squander that goodwill.

"They fare well, your humans?" the snow-woman asked. Something in her face spoke of an unusual longing.

Jack nodded slowly. "They do."

She turned to look at the barren wastes around them. "I had not realized how empty the world would seem, without life in it."

"I know." Jack loved winter, too, but this was too much cold and emptiness. "Some day," he promised her, "it will be safe for them to return."

"Some day," she echoed. "But they will not be the same as those who left."

Jack blinked. That had sounded almost like mourning. "Perhaps they will be wiser," he suggested.

She nodded. "Fair winds, Snow Lord," the lesser winter spirit wished him, and turned to go.

"And following snows," he told her in reply, watching for a moment. Then he let the wind catch him, and went south, to continue his search on the island of Honshu.

Sanctuary: The Workshop
by K. Stonham
first released 30th December, 2012

Ten Years Previous

The dining table was fully extended, all the leaves in. Even with their youngest staying in Washington D.C., dining this year with her fiancé's family, the Bennett household would be full. Particularly with Jamie's sister Sophie, her husband, their three children, and the accompanying two spouses and three grandchildren, all in attendance. In total, in fact, there would be sixteen adults and eleven children, nine of whom would be sitting at the second table that had been set up in the dining room. The two babies, Alice and Marty, were napping in a shared crib tucked up in their grandparents' bedroom, a baby monitor by them to alert their parents should either infant wake crying.

Given that the house hadn't magically expanded in the last several decades, it made for a crowded, cozy, noisy gathering, even when the children and half the adults were out front and out back, building snowmen and forts.

By the time Mary Bennett seated her mother-in-law at the table, and went to call everyone in, the house smelled like home and family and the beginning of the holiday season.

Jamie was first in, and shed his coat and scarf at the door, stamping snow from his feet as he ducked to kiss her. "Ready for me to carve?" His cheeks were pink and his eyes sparkling from the chill and fun of the outdoors.

"In the kitchen," Mary replied, and turned her attention to corralling the rest of her family to the table.

Once everyone was seated, Jamie said grace over the food. "...And please, dear Lord," he added, "let the men and women in power step back from their anger and be guided by your love and wisdom, on this Thanksgiving day. Amen."

"Amen," everyone echoed, even the table of troublemakers in the living room.

As everyone sat down and Jamie reached for the first plate, to put some slices of turkey on it, the winter wind slammed the front door open.

Jamie stared at the white-haired teenager who had barged in the front door. Normally he'd be annoyed at Jack, or invite him to partake in the meal, but the expression on Jack's face -

"Jack?" he asked.

Ice blue eyes met his, and James Bennett had the thought that he had never, ever, seen Jack Frost look so scared, so close to tears.

"Washington's gone," Jack said hoarsely.

"What?!" half a dozen voices clamored over one another.

Jamie couldn't breathe. Ellen... his daughter was in Washington.

"I was there," Jack said, and his voice was shaking. "There was a flash of light, and... it's gone. Just gone."

"Ellen?" Jamie croaked, ignoring the half-dozen people in the room who couldn't see Jack, who had never kept believing the way he'd taught all his children to.

Jack's eyes were wide. He shook his head. "I - I don't know."

"Turn on the television!" Thomas called into the living room. "We need to know what's going on."

As various of the Bennetts and Pierces stood up, streaming toward the noise of the awakening television, Jack just stood in his spot, clinging to his staff like it was his last hope, never looking away from Jamie. "I think," he said. Paused, wet his lips with his tongue. "Sandy and I knew it was bad. I don't think either of us thought -"

"The war has come, hasn't it?"

"Jamie, what are you talking about?" his mother asked.

"James?" his wife asked.

Jamie bowed his head. Felt a ghost of motion, opened his eyes to see Jack right in front of him. "How much do you trust the world's governments?" Jack asked him. His voice was soft, but his question deadly serious.

Jamie wanted to answer that he did... but he couldn't lie. Not when the news announcer on the television was saying that they'd lost contact with their correspondents in Washington. Not when it was his family's lives on the line. Mutely, Jamie shook his head.

Jack reached into his hoodie pocket, withdrew a snow globe that swirled with all the colors of hope, of wonder, of dreams and memory and fun.

Sophie, having returned to the dining room, gaped. "Is that -"

"Will you trust me?" Jack asked softly, looking between the two siblings.

Sophie's mouth shut. She nodded.

"With my life," Jamie replied. "With my children's lives."

"Then we're leaving. All of us."

Jamie nodded, stood tall. "Everyone!" he yelled into the other room. "We're going. Get ready. Jackie, Arthur, get the babies. Thomas, grab the dogs."

His children rushed to obey. "James, what is going on?" Mary asked him.

Jamie ignored her in favor of helping his mother up. "Come on, mother, we're going on a little trip."

"But dinner -"

"It'll just take a minute," he promised. "Here, let me get your walker. Mary, can you make sure the doors and windows are locked and that the stove's off?"

"James, what in the world -"

"Just trust me," he cut her off. "If I'm wrong, we'll be right back. If not..."

Whatever she saw in his face forestalled her comments. After a second, she nodded and stepped briskly into the kitchen.

"You're really good at that," Jack murmured. Jamie gave his friend a wan grin, and pushed the worry for his youngest daughter away. The only thing he could do right now was make sure the rest of his family was safe.

It was only a moment until the entire clan was gathered in the living room. Jack hefted the snow globe before him, shook it, and said clearly to it, "I say, North Pole." He threw the globe at the wall, where it smashed, making a glowing multi-colored portal. He turned to the Bennetts and Pierces, most of whom had never seen this before. "Go," he told them, gesturing at the portal.

They didn't need to be told twice, streaming past him, the protesting unbeliever inlaws being dragged by their believing spouses and children. Thomas, Jamie's oldest, had the Bennetts' two greyhounds on leashes; they practically lunged into the portal. Mary, staring and unbelieving, went in, followed by her mother-in-law, then Jamie. Jack looked around the family home one last time, then followed as well. The portal sealed behind them.

He was used to the disorienting mode of travel, and was able to fly out of it, over the pile of Bennetts and Pierces and two Kays on the floor.

Jack whirled, mid-air, to see North, flanked by two yetis (Phil and Oliver), staring at the pile of humans. Behind North was the globe, turning slowly on its axis.

Jack's stomach dropped as Beijing blinked out.

"Jack, what is meaning of this?"

Jack ignored the question, landing at the railing, still staring up at the globe.

Moscow, gone.

"Jack?"

"Call the others," he grated lowly. He turned to North, who looked flabbergasted at the order. "Do it!"

"Jack, what is meaning of bringing them here?" North waved a hand at the humans, who were righting themselves, staring about in wonder and a little fear.

"Jack?" Jamie's softer voice drew his attention. Jamie, too, was staring at the globe. He swallowed. "Is that what I think it is?"

Jack couldn't say yes. He just couldn't. But he nodded.

"Oh God."

"Jamie?"

Jamie turned to answer North's question. "It's... it's nuclear war, North. World War Three. Humans... we're finally killing ourselves off for good."

North's eyebrows rose until they couldn't go any higher. "This is true?" he asked Jack. "This is why you brought them here?" He gestured again at Jamie's family.

Miserable, throat tight, Jack nodded again.

North was stock-still for an instant. Then, "Phil! Take care of our guests!" he ordered. He stepped forward, turned the summons handle to a position Jack had never seen used before, and slammed it down.

"That's... not the Guardians summon," Jack said uncertainly, as golden-white light pulsed from the dome roof.

"No," North said. "It is very old, and has only been used once. This setting," he said, hand patting the lever, "will summon all the Great Spirits." He turned to the sea of elves surrounding the control panel. "You lot! Prepare rooms for Bennett family, and ready meeting hall for guests."

"J-James," Mary said. Jamie turned to find his wife behind him, looking scared. She was staring straight at North. "Is that...?

Jamie's eyes flickered between the two. "Nicholas St. North, better known as Santa Claus," he replied. "North, this is my wife, Mary."

North bowed just a little. "Formerly Mary Henderson, yes?" He smiled, a small, sad thing. "Was always on nice list. Unlike some people I can mention." His blue eyes slid sideways to Jack.

"And..." Mary said. "And this is?"

She was looking right at Jack, whose mouth dropped open.

Jamie was shocked too. He wasn't surprised Mary had believed in Santa Claus at one point. Most everyone had. But she was seeing Jack too? "Jack Frost," he said quietly. "My oldest friend."

"Oh." Mary swallowed, still staring. "Nice to meet you..."

Jack smiled, but it was a wan thing. "Nice to meet you too, Mary. I just wish this had happened under better circumstances."

Her eyes drifted to the globe as the Americas came into view. "There's no Washington," she said simply. "Ellen was in Washington."

"I am sorry," North said. "Ellen, too, was good child."

"Come on," Jamie said, putting his arm around her. He didn't want to think about their daughter. About his baby girl being gone. If he did, he didn't think he would ever stop crying. "Phil will show us where to go. We've got to think about the kids we... still have..."

"Jamie." Jack was at his elbow. He looked apologetic. "I can give you some time, but... I think we're going to need you in the council room."

"Me? But I'm not..."

"Most of us," Jack said with a nod at North, "don't live in the human world. Sandy and I get the best view, but even we're outsiders." He took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself up. "A lot of spirits are insular, and don't think human affairs matter at all. We're going to need your testimony to help convince them to do anything."

Jamie didn't know what Jack had planned, but he trusted Jack implicitly. If he said Jamie's presence was needed, Jamie would come. "You'll come find me?"

Jack nodded. He turned to Phil. "They were just sitting down for Thanksgiving dinner," he said. "Raiding the kitchens might help settle everyone's nerves a little."

The yeti nodded.

"How can you think of food at a time like this?" Thomas demanded of Jack.

"No, he's right," Jamie told his son. He looked up at the globe, expression grim. "We're going to need all our strength today."