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Chapter 9

Bunnymund sat on the floor in the ruins of his den, blank eyes staring at the scattered rushes and fluff of his destroyed nest. A few drops of blood still dripped from a bent frame on the wall that had once held a plain glass mirror, the shards littering the floor. A coil of rope was in his hands, nimble digits absently working knots into the rope over and over. Star of David knot, hangman's noose, slip knot, noose, square knot, noose, sailor's knot, then a hangman's noose again.

It had been three days since he'd woken up beside a naked and marked Jack Frost, and by his nearest estimate, seven days from when he'd...when he had... r-...raped- oh, MiM help him!

The Pooka moved, dropping the rope as he raced over to a waste basket and vomited until he brought up nothing but bile. He dropped the basket back to the floor and collapsed on the ground, curling into a ball. Deep hoarse sobs were wrung from his throat, and blunt claws dug into the fur of his scalp as he hid his face in his hands. By the Moon, he could hardly stand to think it, let alone remember it! He had committed a sin so great that his people, who hadn't believed in the death penalty, would have cheerfully skinned him alive and then strung him up from the highest tree. The Guardians would probably do the same when they found out.

If not for the dire consequences on poor Jack's behalf, E. Aster Bunnymund would have gladly hanged himself, unable to live with the shame of his deeds any longer. He had wanted to the instant he had understood exactly what he had done. But he couldn't. Not now. He had to find a way to make anything, even the smallest part of this, come out right, but Aster had no idea how he could. He had an obligation to his ma- to Jack. Not my mate. Never my mate. I'm not worthy of a mate; too disgusting, too stupid, too unworthy! I can't go near him! Not like this!

He had broken every code of honor his race had, that he had ever held sacred. He had harmed an innocent in the worst possible way. How do you make something like this better?

*Flashback*

Intense, stomach-cramping hunger had awoken the Easter Bunny nearly four days after his heat had ended. He had whimpered in pain, not understanding what was going on. Why in the bloody hell did his stomach feel like it was trying to eat his spine?! Why was he so hungry? The last thing he remembered was going into heat, but that surely couldn't be why he was so...so...

Aster had frozen into place as his brain had finally taken stock of where he was and what he was doing. He wasn't in his den. He distinctly remembered locking himself into his den. He was outside on a bed of soft grass, in some kind of bushes and what looked like a perimeter of thorns around that. He could hear the faint sound of the paint river not too far away, the softest sound of breathing, and an almost non-existant sound of another heartbeat. The air smelled thick with flowers, mint, and even some kind of musky scent he knew he'd smelled before. He was extremely hungry and still extremely tired despite just waking up from sleep, and-

-and his arms were around a naked, pale-skinned body. Green eyes went huge in shock and dawning horror.

Please no, please no, please no, please no! Manny, if you ever gave a damn about me, please don't let this be what I think it is.

He slowly pulled himself up on one arm to get a better look, and felt his heart stop.

A very naked Jack Frost was sleeping on his side, his back to Bunny's front. Jack's scent of mint was nearly smothered by Aster's own musk that saturated the air, the grass...Jack's skin. Sweet gods, Jack was covered in Aster's scent. A shaking hand reached slowly forward, and very, very gently pulled Jack's shoulder down to look, and found the mating mark that Bunny's teeth had left on that milky skin.

There was no denying what that mark meant or what had to occur for a mating mark to be made. A mating mark only appeared if it was for a mate, not a lover or fuck-buddy, but a true, life-long mate that had shared their magic. It would never happen other wise. Jack carried Bunny's mating mark on his shoulder, branded like property for the entire magical world to see, and everyone that knew even the bare basics of Pooka culture would know what it meant.

His brain was in a tizzy. So deep was his state of shock that he could barely hold onto any thoughts at all. Aster pulled himself up on trembling limbs as he tried to stand up. He stumbled and fell twice, so dizzy and weak from hunger that he could barely function. It took nearly all his effort to make a tunnel, but he succeeded in making one to his garden. The Pooka had to pull himself out of the ground and crawl to the nearest patch of vegetables. He ate mechanically, forcing himself to take small bites so his stomach wouldn't get upset and sick up everything he tried to put in it. Nearly an hour later, Aster finally felt his body getting better as the food was quickly turned to energy by his extremely efficient metabolism. As he did, his thoughts got clearer and more coherent, and he finally realized exactly what he'd seen in Jack's little glen. And what it meant.

Bunnymund had mentally reeled even has his body collapsed to the ground in shock. How? How had this happened?! Hadn't he locked himself into his den to stop anything like this from happening?! Fuck, brain, think! When did this happen?! Why?! How could I have gone so out of control? I can't remember. Shit, you would think a guy would remember something like this! But I don't! I don't remember what happened! How could...Jack had...a mate mark? A mating mark?! Jack would have had to have given up his magic, something he was sure the spirit would never do of his own free will-

-unless the poor boy had still been unconscious, Bunny realized with shocked horror. If Jack had been unconscious, he couldn't have controlled his powers; it could have been possible to trigger a release of magic if the winter spirit hadn't been aware of what was going on. Oh by the Bright Moon...

...I don't deserve to be a Guardian, the Pooka thought numbly. I don't dare trust myself around children anymore. How could i? I betrayed Jack's trust. Why the fuck didn't I call North to come get him while I had the chance?! Jack came to the Warren because he thought he'd be safe, when he was at his weakest and most vulnerable, and how did I reward that trust? By fucking him in his sleep like a damned beast! By r-raping him. I...I commited rape, and now Bunnymund went milk white pale under his fur, looking like he was about to be very sick as the horror and disgust at his actions truly pulled down on his soul. On Jack Frost! If anyone had even hinted I would do something like that, I would have punched them in the throat and laughed. I just- I-

Oh gods above and below, make it not true! How could I do something like that?! I would never do something like this, never! But now I...and Jack...oh sweet MiM, how the fuck do I explain this to Jack?! He racked his brain trying to think of why this happened. Why had Jack's scent triggered desire in him? Why had he gone after Jack at all? Sandy and North had come to his Warren when he'd been in rut before, but he'd never tried to mate with them. Of course, those two were quite the dominates by Pooka...standards...

It finally hit Bunny why he'd gone so wild for Jack. Jack wasn't a dominate. He was still too young, his power and magic too wild and still untamed. Jack was a healthy, young, strong being that his Pooka instincts wouldn't have recognized as a dominant. And with the sheer magic rolling off the boy, and his way with children, he would have been incredibly desirable to other Pooka. No wonder my instincts went insane, Aster thought in realization. After thousands of years, my body must have thought I'd gone nuts to ignore a potential mate right in my own backyard. But that's still no excuse! I should have been able to hold off my instincts. I should have left the Warren and told North to guard him! I should have done anything, anything, but what I did.

The one saving grace in all of this was that Jack was in his hibernation. As far as Aster knew, once nature-based spirits went into hibernation, nothing short of a major natural disaster would wake them up. Surely the poor kid had slept through the mating! To have shared his magic with Bunny meant that Jack had to have been unconscious; Jack wouldn't have done it otherwise. Or, his thoughts went to a dark place, if the young Guardian had awoke somehow, he could have been so frightened and in pain that he could have released his magic in defense. No, he hastened to reassure himself. That wouldn't, couldn't have made a mate bond. The bond's magic couldn't come from pain or fear. Jack had to have been asleep.

But the mental image of a terrified Jack begging for Bunny to stop as he was raped over and over in a heat-frenzy was something that would haunt the Pooka's dreams for months.

As soon as Aster could stand and run, he had immediately gone toward Jack's hibernation spot only to stop in confusion and disgust as the thick, coppery scent of blood had filled his nose just outside of his den. He searched the area and found a shocking pattern of blood spatter and dried blood on the trail. What the hell had happened here? Someone had come to the Warren. With this amount of blood, they had to have died from such injury. Sweet MiM, he had killed someone?! What, rape wasn't enough, he had to commit murder too?

But who? The scent held nothing familiar to the Pooka, so his friends were out. This blood smelled of dust and sand. something like glass? A few fragments of a glass dagger were found at the scene. He found footprints from small feet, another set of humanoid feet and what looked like a second person with animal-like paws that he didn't recognize. Not just one person, but three people had broken into the Warren? How?! he had layers upon layers of protective magics and charms all over his home to stop such things from happening!

Unless whoever had done this was extremely well-skilled in magic. Someone with enough knowledge of magic and had done magical dealings with Pooka before could have done it. Of course, anyone left that had met his people were old. Very, very old even by spiritual standards. Only one Guardian could get into Bunny's Warren uninvited and that was Sandy, but only because the Sandman was literally millions of years old. He knew more about magic than anyone, except maybe the Man in the Moon.

Bunny followed the trail of foot prints. The marks and scuffs on the dirt and grass showed that all three people had been running...wait. He laid nearly flat on the ground, breathing deeply to catch the faint trace of scent left in the dirt on the smallest set of foot prints. Those were Jack's?! Which meant that Jack had actually been awake somehow during his hibernation season. The other two had been chasing him? Why? The Guardian found more of the glass daggers stabbed into the ground the closer he got to Jack's resting place, tilted at angles as if they'd been thrown at Jack, and Bunny found himself growing angrier by the minute. Two people had pierced his wards and spells, broke into his Warren, and by all appearances had come to hunt down Jack. If that had been the case, then Bunny might have attacked them out of defense of his territory and protecting his mate-

-Jack. Protecting Jack. Not my mate. 'A mate is protected from all harm', Aster recited from the memories of his father teaching him their people's ways. 'A mate is treasured and given respect, kindness, and love for all their days.' I never spoke a kind word to Jack before he became a Guardian, so I gave him no kindness or even the basic respect of acknowledging his existence outside of a fight. I argued against him being chosen as a Guardian and called him selfish and reckless after only speaking to him twice in all of 300 years, so I certainly didn't treasure him.

The Pooka shuddered, his fur bristling out as he shook. I took the unwilling, the unknowing. But it wasn't enough to just rape the boy, oh no. I bound an innocent young spirit into a magical bond without his knowledge or consent. I committed rape and have locked away Jack's ability to ever romantically love another person. I have not protected Jack from the most dangerous person near him in his most vulnerable state. I didn't protect him from me.

Grey-furred feet slowly walked the trail to Jack's hibernation spot. The thicket being ringed with incredibly long and sharp thorny vines suddenly made a lot more sense if he had been defending Jack from an attacker. His magic reached out with a word from him, and parted the vines and bushes so he could check on the winter spirit. Aster saw him still sleeping soundly, and that the boy was naked. Where on earth had his clothes gone? He spotted the badly stained hoodie over by the roots of a bush. Examining it, he figured that by now, that stuff wasnt' going to wash out. So he'd have to get a new hoodie, but where were his pants-oh. His pants had been...ripped? Were those...were those bite marks?!

Ok, Jack needed new clothes and a blanket. Some pillows. Maybe a comforter? Bunny shook his head, then arranged the plants to cover and protect Jack once more. He had things he needed to do now, like seeing to Jack's comfort and safety. Seeing to his ma-Jack's needs was paramount. He could finish having a pity-party when that was taking care of.

Aster scoured his trashed den for a blanket and found one that he quickly brought to the thicket. He laid a soft silver plush blanket to cover the naked spirit, who had grabbed and snuggled into the thing like it was a long lost friend. The Pooka then retreated from the thicket and hid it in thorny vines once again, determined to protect the winter spirit within. He then gathered up the glass pieces from the grass and trail to throw away. The Pooka knew that he would have to see to stronger seals on his gates and tunnels. If anything tried to hurt Jack now, they would have to go through Bunny. All Bunnymund could do was wait for Jack to wake up so he could try to explain.

*Flashback end*

It had taken three days to clean up the Warren proper and erase any trace of the spirits that had tried to invade his home. The Guardian had reinforced his barriers, wards, and spells, even going so far as to look up the most esoteric and exotic magics he could find in his library to shore up the Warren's security. A new runic ward-scheme was drawn up and activated by the power of a ley line that ran through the Warren, casting wards of intent that would shield the doors and grounds from anyone that meant harm. (Aster would have no idea how much those wards had deflected attacks from the other desert spirits that summer. But he would soon.)

It had taken that long to convince himself that he couldn't kill himself no matter how guilty he felt. The bond was still too raw, too new. If he tried to commit suicide, it would drain energy from Jack to keep Bunny alive, taking the winter spirit into death with him. When the bond had stabilized more, he decided, he would tell Jack everything and leave it to the young Guardian to decide his fate. By then, Jack would be awake and taught enough about the bond to shut off his end of it. If he asked for Aster's life, he could block the energy drain enough to protect him from dying. (This was, of course, assuming that the other Guardians didn't kill Bunny first when they found out what happened.)

Aster nodded, agreeing with his plan as he set out to fix things up.

Bunny had cleaned up his den mechanically, pulling up the roots and vines from the main door and windows, repairing walls and doors, and growing new furniture. He even found himself making things specifically in Jack's size for him to share in his den, not that he ever thought that Jack would want such a thing. (Any other time, Aster would have recognized what he was doing as part of nesting, or fixing his den to be more welcoming to his mate. But sheer emotional trauma was not exactly conductive to introspective thoughts at the time.) He would catch himself wondering where Jack slept, and what his home was like. Come to think of it, where did Jack live? He didnt' just wander the world homeless, surely not, he just hadn't told the Guardians where he lived. Right?

Bunny wondered about Jack even as he fixed his bedroom; making a soft bed and lining it with feather down and pieces of blue silk. He remembered that dirty hoodie and torn pants, marveling that he'd never seen the spirit wear anything else. Did he even own other clothing? He never changed out of the hoodie, which had looked relatively clean and well-cared for, but those pants! For the love of MiM, they had been rotting! Literally rotting; the fabric, (a special type of tough canvas used in the sails of ships), had worn to little more than bare thread and scraps. A rough piece of dirty twine had held them up in place of a belt. Either Jack was really into vintage clothing, or...he had nothing else to wear.

No home. No clothing. And to Aster's knowledge, no other material possessions other than the staff. A faint glimmer of redemption appeared in his depressed heart. Here was a way he could begin to atone. He could offer Jack a home in his Warren, (after warding it to the rafters to keep Bunnymund out, of course). Or maybe offer to help build one wherever Jack chose. Maybe underground in Burgess?

He would definitely see to it that Jack got better clothing. He needed a new hoodie, a proper shirt, some actual pants, and all of that in multiple sets, at least three of each. Bunny could do that. Even if in the quite likely event that Jack never forgave him, Aster would see to it that Jack never went without again.

A loud 'BONG' suddenly rang out from one of his gates. Bunny ran from his den, grabbing his boomerangs and egg bombs as he ran. If someone was trying to come after Jack again, they would regret it! He had his weapons in hand as he stomped one foot, appearing instantly on the other side of the door to face his opponents. His jaw dropped in surprise.

"Sandy? What are you doing here?"


Next up: Fallout, Part 2.

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