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Disclaimer: I don't own 'Rise of the Guardians'

The Black Trickster

Jack felt his entire body jar on impact, rattling his teeth. The air was pushed from his lungs, and he struggled to replenish it. Grasping tightly onto the tree branch he was draped over, he slowly pulled himself up, sweat beaded on his brow from strain. He collapsed onto the limb, his feet dangling over the side and his back propped up against the trunk. He laid his staff across his abdomen and pushed his hood from his head as he tried to breathe deeply.

White teeth clacked shut and strained against each other as pain wracked through his limbs. As the shutters died down, his chest rapidly rising and falling to catch the illusive oxygen the floated in the air, he searched the ground below him in the early morning light. A bench sat beneath him, dusted with untouched snow that hadn't escaped the blackness.

A groan passed his lips as his heart seized and quickly started at thrice its normal pace, his chest tightening in protest. A hand flew up and his long fingers clutched at the blue sweater and skin underneath in attempt to ease or distract the pain. His lids blinked quickly in attempt to rid his eyes of the sweat pouring into them.

After what seemed hours of torture, the pain slowly ebbed from his limbs and his heart relaxed into a gentle rhythm. Jack relaxed into the unyielding tree as a dull ache became the only sensation he was aware of. His crystal eyes fluttered shut as the fear once again numbed his body.

"What have you done?" he his came out in a strangled slur.

"I did what you were too afraid to do," the voice stole from his mouth, twisting the sound to suit it. "I got rid of the problem."

"But…the…the…child," he forced out through the weariness.

"Is alive. And with no grownups to destroy its beliefs."

"But…he….will be…so…alone."

"Just as you were."

"I…didn't want…this."

"Then what did you want, Jack?" the voice barked. "You are no longer alone. A child is freed from its oppressors. Surely this is a time for celebration?"

Jack felt his chest heave with laughter but his mind dulled as it became lost in a whirlwind of memory.

"You've lost him. You can't lose another. Can you, Jack?"

"No," he whispered, his breath clouding the air in front of him.

His eyes stared into the back window of a van stopped at a red light. A young boy had his face plastered to the glass, his eyes roving the dark landscape for a flicker of the person he had just seen flying through the air. His lips moved in an unheard whisper of "Where'd he go?" as the window fogged around his warm breath.

The figure in the driver's seat turned down the stereo and the silver streaked haired boy heard a gruff voice question, "Where'd who go, Stephen?"

Young eyes risked a glance away from the world outside to his parents in the front. "Jack Frost," he said simply before he was once again glued to the window.

The woman in the passenger seat gave a light laugh as she looked over her shoulder, a smile playing at her lips.

"Stephen," the man began, impatience coloring his voice, "Jack Frost isn't—"

"Oh hush," his wife reprimanded him as she faced forward. "Let him believe."

"Sarah, he's almost nine."

"So? What harm will it do?"

The man sighed, tired of explaining to his wife the woes of being a young boy who refused to grow up and stop believing.

"See," the voice crept in. "He wishes for the boy to leave you."

"But, his mother—"Jack protested.

"Will soon agree with the father."

The young man watched as Stephen slowly pulled away from the window, a frown pulling at his lips, and slumped into his seat. He felt his heart tightened as the frown did. Leaping down from his perch on the lamppost, he landed softly in front of the boy's window. Stretching out his staff, he lightly tapped it against the glass and smiled as frost began to flower, dusting the window in white.

A gleeful shout sounded in the car as a small hand slammed against the window. "Look look look look look!" came a torrent of sound.

Jack felt a laugh escape his lips.

"He'll leave you. Just like Jamie. You don't want that to happen do you?"

The young man's arm fell to his side, the hook of his staff clattering against the pavement as black ice began to pool from its touch. "No," he whispered.

The light turned green and soon the sweater clad figure was left behind. As the fear grew stronger that another one was escaping, he pushed off after the car: ice forming wherever he stepped. Soon he raced alongside the car.

"You know what you have to do. Stop the car. Stop the parents."

"But…" Jack began to protest.

"You'll lose him, Jack! You'll be all alone again."

With a pained scream, his knuckles white as they clenched his staff, he sent a bolt of ice to the street ahead. It froze invisible to the eye, and the car kept speeding to it unaware. The young man slowed to a stop, as he watch the car slip on the slick surface and barrel into the other lane in the path of a smaller car.

It was over in a blink.

He jumped into the air and surveyed the scene, his eyes desperate to find the child. They found the young boy, nestled in the back, dark red trickling from his temple. Panic sent Jack into a frenzy as he fell to the ground. He stumbled towards the boy, pulling away crumpled metal to reach him. He stretched out a hand felt the fading warmth of his flesh, the dying heartbeat.

"No. No. You said I wouldn't be alone."

"Accidents happen, Jack."

"No. C'mon, Stephen. C'mon and look at me," the young man pleaded. In desperation, he lightly touched a finger to the trail of blood, freezing and clotting it.

Shouts and sirens sounded behind him, and eyelids fluttered open to reveal eyes burning with an unparalleled amount of accusation in one so young.

Jack stumbled away and took off into the wind. Away from burning eyes. Away from eyes that would never unsee him. Away from guilt. Away from his permanence in a child's life.

"I—I didn't want it…to be like this," he gasped out as he struggled through the dark waters of the memory.

"That's how it is, Jack. It's the only way. Do you want to be alone again?" the voice taunted.

"No."

"Do you want them to grow up and forget about you?"

"Stop."

"Do you want to lose them like Jamie?"

"No. Stop," Jack pleaded desperately.

"Accept it, Jack. I can help."

The young man felt his body give in to the fear. The pain would be worth it, right? The worry would all go away, right? The children would believe. The children would see him. Always. The fear would go away if he just gave in, right?

Each breath of cold air was a jagged dagger driven into her chest which had her gasping for more air, her situation only worsening. Her legs pumped painfully as her feet slapped against the cold concrete and hardened snow. Her nose was numb and running. But, it didn't matter. None of it mattered unless she got to Jack in time.

Marie couldn't be sure that he would even be at her tree. She couldn't be sure that she could help. All the young woman knew was that she had to be there, she had to try, she had to do something. She knew what it was like to be afraid, afraid of being rejected, of having done something wrong. God, that was all she knew after her dad died.

Suicide.

What a way to go.

He had been so happy. He had always been with her, made time for her. And then…he goes and ends it. What else was a five year old to think?

And slowly her mom and retreated into herself. She wasn't really a mom by the end of it.

Her entire childhood had been populated by the fear that she had screwed up somewhere. That if only. If only she had done this. If only she had said that.

I have to try. He has to understand. I understand. I have to try. I can't lose him. I can't. Not again. Not again.

With renewed energy, Marie threw her body fully into her run as the campus appeared down the street.

She skidded to a stop underneath the weeping branches heavy with snow. Her legs shook violently as she dropped to her knees, panting from exertion. Swallowing as she took a couple deep, shuddering breaths, her green eyes roved the area and the shadows entwined in the branches. A flash of blue caught her eye, and Marie felt a relieved smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Jack," she breathed out, "I was so worried. I heard. I heard about Jamie. Jack, I want to tell you—"

"Your poor Jack's no more," a voice grated out from above.

The young woman felt a nagging fear prickle at the back of her neck. "Who are you?" she demanded more bravely than she felt.

A hollow laugh slithered down from the heights of the branches as glazed, glassy eyes appeared, glowing from within the shadows. "All that's left," came the voice.

From the shadows melted a familiar pale face framed by midnight black hair, nestled in the shadow of a blue hood. "He left me," Jack's voice twisted and fell from his mouth. "They all leave me. They all grow up. No more. No more, you hear! They will always believe. They will always see me. I won't be alone. Not anymore."

"Oh God, Jack," Marie breathed out in saddened horror. "What happened?"

"I'm not Jack!" the voice barked before it softened into a whimper. "I won't be alone any more. They won't have a choice. They'll have to believe. They'll have to see me."

In a fluid swoop, the black Jack slinked down from his perch in the tree and landed lightly on the bench, his toes curling around the edge. His glass eyes bored into her. "You're growing up," he hissed. "Soon you won't believe. Soon you won't see. Not anymore. Not anymore!" came the furry filled holler as he leapt towards her, long fingers outstretched and staff raised for the blow.