Chapter 10 - Unlikely Circumstances

Cinder reached her hand out tenderly. Jack was going to prove himself to her without hesitation, but she thought she was going to call his bluff. When their hands touched, however, pain shot through her being.

Cinder's back thudded against the carpet and all air was forced out of her. Red hair had been blown across her face in frizzy pieces and her green eyes dimmed momentarily. Her right arm was flung outward from her body and completely numb. But this was a different kind of numb. The numb feeling she used to get from using too much fire or from sitting on her hands too long was what she was used to. This breed of numb encapsulated her entire arm in a sharp, never-ending cast that rendered her arm useless. It tore her mind apart, trying to figure out why the arm felt like it was no longer hers. It felt white hot, but she knew it wasn't. The hottest fire in the world couldn't hurt her, so her arm wasn't hot. Cinder began to hyperventilate, trying to make the air spread through her system in the hopes that her arm would recover. But her arm remained feeling brisk and unmovable. Turning her head to the right, she blinked weakly and peered down at what should have been her arm. Her breath caught again and her eyes widened.

Her arm was encased in ice and turning purple.

Cinder's arm was cold.

"What did you do?!" Cinder whispered a shriek. "What the hell is wrong with my arm?!"

"I─ I don't know!" Jack stuttered, alarmed. Cinder noticed he was cradling his left arm and the sleeve was pulled over his hand. "I'm sorry!"

Cinder was able to sit up with one arm, but the other followed independent of her wishes. When she went to pick up the arm and put it in her lap, the cold ice hurt her fingertips. "Ouch," she muttered and shook her free hand. Admiring the dead arm, she raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. "You have some kind of power, that's for sure. Hell of a way to show it," she glared at him.

"I didn't do that," Jack defended himself. "Look at what you did to my arm!" He rolled back his sleeve with an antagonizing slowness, and Cinder saw why. His arm was burned from finger tip to elbow. It wasn't just red, but it wasn't burnt to a black crisp. It was safe to say that it was probably a second degree burn in most spots.

"Well at least yours isn't in danger of falling off!" Cinder whispered as she stood shakily. Her breath still hadn't caught up to her, and she still felt a little disoriented. She wavered and stumbled a little before making it to the doorway.

"Where are you going? Do you need help?" Jack asked with concern laced in his voice.

Cinder didn't say anything. She was busy trying to keep her head from swimming and her body from crashing to the floor again. Whatever happened, it hurt her more than it had hurt him from what she could tell. Keeping her arm to her stomach, she hoped her internal heat would do some good. It didn't seem like it was, however, which was why she was aiming to make it to the bathroom. When she made it down the hall, she leaned on the doorframe and grabbed at the back of her shirt with her good hand. Not for the first time, she found her fingers couldn't grasp the fabric and she felt too weak to pull it over her head, let alone her frozen arm.

Jack had followed some ways behind her. He was a few feet down the hall, looking anxious. Something in his features made Cinder believe Jack had seen something he shouldn't have.

"Hey, wanna help me here?" Cinder was desperate. "I need a hot shower, but I can't get my shirt..." she turned her head over her shoulder and saw that Jack was looking away, his face as red as a fire engine, "never mind. You know what? I'll just run the bath and dip my arm in."

"I'd probably freeze you again if I tried to help," Jack reasoned with an unsure voice, "and, um, my arm doesn't feel the greatest either."

"You can still use it, I'm sure," Cinder sneered.

"Not really," Jack admitted, "it's pretty useless, and my ice hurts it."

Cinder frowned. What just happened? He came by her window just as she was about to fall asleep, and asked to talk to her. Cinder really, really, really wanted to sleep after what occurred the other night. And she had to wake up early the next day to get the kids ready for school and then go shopping for food. Yuck, it's like I'm a housewife now, she wrinkled her nose and returned her thoughts to Jack.

He had had a pleading look in his blue eyes that made Cinder consider opening the window, but she had only unlatched it. She was wavering between shooing him off and allowing him in. On one hand, he had no idea she and the fire-setter were the same person. On the other, she didn't want to give him the evidence to find out. But he had seemed so honest in asking to make friends. Cinder had had her doubts plenty of times before, but Jack changed her mind. Maybe things would have changed for the better.

And now look, I've given him all the proof he needs! Cinder thought bitterly as she shoved her frozen arm under the water in the bathtub. She gritted her teeth and hissed from the sudden change in temperature.

"That wasn't very ladylike," Jack snickered.

Cinder whipped her head around and glared. "You don't know anything about me."

"That's why I wanted to talk to you," Jack backed off.

"Why don't you just go back to the other Guardians," she spat her emphasis. "Isn't it like a job of yours?"

But when she looked over in his direction again, she saw a hint of sadness on his face, quickly replaced by anger. Cinder could also see that he was biting his lip rather harshly. Whatever resentment he felt, Cinder thought she could identify with it. She knew what it was like to be shunned, if that was the case. Jack grimaced, holding his arm delicately. Maybe he was hurt pretty badly after all.

"Sorry," Cinder apologized, "I didn't know you weren't working with them."

"I am working with them," Jack corrected, "I just... left the last meeting a little early."

"That's an odd reason to be upset," Cinder commented, poking and prodding her bad arm with her good one. The pale color was beginning to return, but it still felt useless. Looking at her ring that was now under the water, she noticed it has a certain bluish-green glow to it, and the specks flitted in jagged patterns. She'd never seen it move around so much before.

"They want to remain complacent," Jack explained, bringing her thoughts back to him.

"And you don't," Cinder ascertained. "So, what's the issue they don't want to address, then?"

Jack held his breath and stiffened, still standing in the doorway. It seemed like he didn't want to disclose the issue, so Cinder didn't continue to ask. Instead, she raised her arm out of the water and tried to clench her fist. The fingers were resistant at first, but she was able to move them slowly. Dunking her hand back in the water, she slowly heated the water so that Jack wouldn't notice.

Jack walked into the room and sat, perched like an owl, on the toilet's lid. Letting go of his breath, he answered, "There's this spirit, his name's Pitch, the Nightmare King. He rose up four years ago and tried to make the children of the world stop believing in the Guardians."

"Which would be Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny?"

"And the Sandman," Jack added. "Pitch succeeded in getting Sandy, though," Jack's voice trailed off momentarily, emotion thick in the air, "but he came back because we were able to get the children to believe again."

"Why did he want the children to stop believing?" Cinder couldn't help the curiosity slipping into her question. Pitch never told her his plans. He always left suddenly and came back just the same way. She knew he fed off of fear, which was where she helped, but she had no clue why he would try and stop kids from believing. Wouldn't that hurt him, too?

"A Guardian's power comes from the children. If the children stop believing in them, they become weak. Pitch planned to finish them off."

Cinder tried to hide her surprise by gritting her teeth and poking her arm under the water. Pitch never mentioned the Guardians, but surely he would never kill, would he? Pitch didn't strike Cinder as the killing type. He was dark and sometimes scary, sure, but deadly? "Wait, you said 'them.' Didn't you say you were a Guardian, too?"

"I wasn't at the time."

"Oh, a newbie," Cinder snickered and peered at him in the corner of her eyes.

Jack rolled his eyes and twirled his staff. "Yeah, sure," Jack answered, "some of them have been Guardians longer than I've been a spirit."

Cinder pulled her arm out and unplugged the drain. "What were you before?" It was supposed to be a joke, but Jack took it seriously.

Jack knit his brows. "Human."

Cinder's eyes widened in shock before she could recover and she wished she could have hidden it. Formerly a human? That was impossible. Cinder didn't remember anything before she awoke underneath the burned house. She figured she was always a spirit. But if Jack was a spirit, and he had once been human, did that mean she used to be human, too? She couldn't just ask him. For all she knew, he still thought of her as some strange human girl who could see him despite being older than most believers.

"What's wrong?" Jack leaned in.

"Nothing," Cinder snapped, turning toward the door and marching down the hallway. "I'm going back to bed. You go and freeze a lake or something."

"So you believe in me?" Jack leaned into the bedroom doorway after she had walked through, his face lit up excitedly.

Cinder sighed. "I believe you are Jack Frost," she admitted hesitantly, "the spirit of winter." She hated to say it, but now she knew it was true. If his ice and her fire reacted that violently, then there was definitely something weird happening.

"Thank you very much," Jack bowed, then held his hurt arm and winced again.

"Do you want me to check that?" Cinder offered before she realized what she said. She didn't want to get anywhere close to this guy, why was she offering help?

Jack mulled it over briefly. "Just don't touch it," he warned.

Cinder pulled the gloves off the bed. "Your gift came in handy," she said smugly as she slipped them on. "They fit nicely," she murmured as her way of quiet thanks.

"You're welcome," Jack hissed as Cinder grabbed his burned arm unexpectedly. "And that hurt."

Cinder hushed him and looked over his arm. It was still fairly cold, which Cinder felt thoroughly now and it made her ill just holding it. Now that she knew what the cold was, she wished it had never existed. It hurt, a lot. His arm, however, had burn marks that raked the inside of his arm, missing every vein, thankfully. It could use some ice, but Jack claimed his hurt.

"I'll go get you an ice pack," Cinder let go of his arm carefully.

"Ice didn't work," Jack complained.

"Your ice didn't work," Cinder corrected him.

"How do you know that's the case?"

Cinder bit her lip. She knew because she found her fire didn't work on her arm, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "I don't. Come on, I'm assuming you've been in this house before?"

"Jamie's a good friend," Jack answered.

Cinder nodded. "I thought as much."

They walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Jack sat down on a nearby stool with his burned arm in his lap while Cinder searched in the dark for the freezer handle. It was completely dark downstairs, so she quickly lit a candle that was on the counter next to the fridge before Jack could notice what she did. Opening the freezer, she squinted at the sudden light and began rummaging through its contents. Frozen peas, carrots, and some whipped cream container that smelled like fish. It probably was fish. Gross. Closing the freezer door, she held out an ice pack to Jack, who took it skeptically.

It was then that Jamie's dog growled from the living room. Cinder walked over to the doorway and hissed at the greyhound, threatening that if Abby didn't stay quiet she'd make her stay quiet. The dog peered into the kitchen and growled again, lower. As if I couldn't hear you, damn dog. I wonder if she sees Jack? Can animals see spirits? Deciding after a third growl that Abby could, in fact, see Jack Frost, Cinder herded the dog back into the living room and told her to lie down. A few tries later, and Cinder was able to walk back into the kitchen without Abby making another fuss. She walked back to the other side of the island and sat down, watching to see what Jack did.

Visibly bracing himself, Jack had set the ice pack on top of his arm, which almost looked like it was smoking underneath the ice pack. Grimacing, he held it there without complaining.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Jack spoke. "It's helping, thanks."

"Don't mention it," Cinder looked away, hand leaning against the counter. "When you're done, just put it back in the freezer and let yourself out," she said as she turned toward the stairs.

"What are you doing?" Jack almost sounded scared.

"Going back to bed, what does it look like?"

"Can't you stay and talk for a bit?" Jack's eyes pleaded. They were still too blue, but Cinder shook it off.

"I... I don't know. It's late, I'm tired, and I've got to get them up and go shopping; there's no food in the house, and I─"

"Well, I can't help with the shopping," Jack interrupted, "but I can get Jamie and Sophie to school. I'll let you sleep in."

"You really don't want to go back to the Guardians, do you?" Cinder raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Not yet, no," Jack admitted sheepishly.

Cinder smiled, turned around, and sat on a stool across from Jack. She couldn't believe herself. Why was she allowing herself to get close to this guy? He was basically her enemy, or at least Pitch's enemy. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to hate him completely. But imprisoning the only one who understood her and cared for her... she wasn't exactly on level ground with Jack. Letting the anger slip before it turned into panic, she exhaled. "Alright, talk."

Jack tapped his fingers against the ice pack, thinking quickly. "How about a game instead?"

"What?" Cinder threw up a hand. "Jack, I just said I was tired. I'm in no shape to play a game."

"Just something simple then, like Truth or Dare," Jack suggested.

"What are you, twelve?" Cinder raised her voice incredulously. "No way, next idea."

"Wait," Jack stopped her by holding up his free hand, "we'll use a coin. Do you have one?"

Cinder made a show of checking her thin nightclothes. "Gee, I must have left my purse upstairs," she threw up her hands in mock defeat. "No, I don't."

"Okay, okay," Jack placated, rubbing his fingers together. "What about this?" He held up a cap to a drink Jamie must have opened earlier that day. "The top of the cap is for truth, the inside of the cap is for dare. Whoever wins the call asks the question, which means more than one question can be asked by the same person in a row if they keep calling the correct side," he explained.

Cinder rolled her eyes. "Are we really playing this?"

"It's your choice," Jack raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

Cinder sighed and waved her hand forward. "Guest first," she gestured.

Jack smiled mischievously. He tossed the cap up and held it there with his staff focusing the wind in that area. "Heads," he called.

Cinder glared at him again. "You little cheater," she mouthed. He could call the wind just like her. He flew like her. They were more alike than she figured. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. "Tails," she called louder.

When Jack let the wind die down, the cap landed with the flat top pointing upward. "Look who gets the first question!" Jack winked.

Cinder pursed her lips. "Alright, fine. So that's truth?" She wasn't sure she wanted to play the game anymore. However, if she backed out, she couldn't be sure that Jack wouldn't be at least a little suspicious.

Jack nodded and thought carefully. "What's your real name?"

Cinder laughed shortly. "Wait, really? You could've asked anything! It's Cinder."

"Full name," Jack clarified.

"McAllister," Cinder answered automatically, but Jack wasn't buying it. He looked at her as if expecting a better lie. However, Cinder didn't have one.

"Alright, I don't have one. It's just Cinder."

"Parents gave you up or something?"

"I'd still have a last name if that were the case."

"So, no last name? No middle name, either?"

Cinder shook her head. The question was surprisingly personal, and she was scared that he would try and prod further. Her name was given to her by Pitch because she didn't think she had one, but she wasn't about to disclose that piece of information. But now that she knew spirits were once human... "What about you?"

"It's my question," Jack reminded her, "but if you really want to know, it's Jackson."

"Reasonable conclusion: 'Jack' to 'Jackson.' Were you tired of saying so many syllables?" Cinder commented with a smirk.

"Jackson Overland, originally. Frost can be added after," he finished.

The name sent Cinder into an inward panic spiral. The name echoed in her mind and resounded louder with each passing second. It shouldn't have been familiar, but it was and for some reason Cinder couldn't get rid of the thoughts nagging at her consciousness. It sent goose bumps up her arms, including her bad arm, which still hurt a little bit. A lump in her throat formed and without knowing why, she gasped. Her heartbeat quickened and she bit her lip down hard to keep it from showing. She swore he could hear her heart pounding against her ribcage. Knowing she couldn't readily speak, Cinder simply nodded and held out her gloved hand for the cap. She really hoped Jack couldn't see what was going on inside her mind.

"None of your wind this time," Cinder was able to choke out in a low voice. Jack withdrew his hands from the table and set his staff down on the floor. "Tails," she called again, softly this time.

"Heads."

It landed on heads for the second time. Cinder was almost relieved. She was in no state of mind to think of any type of question. On the other hand, it was another Truth question. Hopefully it wasn't anything too deep.

"How old are you?"

Are you serious? Cinder hated how the simplest questions were still problematic. Thankfully, this one wasn't a complete lie, as far as she knew. "Eighteen," she was able to answer smoothly. The small panic had subsided.

"Seventeen," Jack said, and then Cinder realized he was answering it back. He's a year younger than me? Well, if we were both human. I have no idea about the years of spirits.

"I don't think the spirit of winter is seventeen years old," Cinder said quizzically.

"Three hundred and twenty-one," Jack corrected himself. "I was three hundred and seventeen four years ago."

"Well, that must have been a lovely birthday," Cinder smirked.

"Yeah well, I received a pretty great gift," Jack smiled, looking off in no particular direction. Cinder almost thought he was sad, but the smile seemed off.

"What was it?" Cinder decided to ask.

"My memories," Jack answered, looking back at her, "from when I was human."

Cinder lost all control then. Without a filter, she reached across the table and drew her face close to his, which was unbearably frigid. "You can regain those?" she asked urgently.

"Yeah," Jack was startled, "the Tooth Fairy collects children's teeth because they contain childhood memories. She keeps them in cases and she or the owner of the teeth can access the memories."

Cinder's face lit up. What if she had memories from being a human? What if she had a real past?

What if she wasn't Cinder?

The last question jarred her mentally and she fell back into her seat, slumped forward. If everything she knew was a lie, what was she going to do? She lived hundreds of years by the name Cinder, under Pitch's teaching. He gave her everything she knew about herself. But what if he was wrong? Cinder shook her head visibly. Pitch saved her. There's no way he would ever do that to her. Not after what happened with the Walkers... Oh, how badly she wanted a drink.

"Oh," was all she could mutter past the renewed lump in her throat.

"You can ask the next question," Jack changed the subject.

"But we have to flip the cap," Cinder pointed to it.

"I've already asked two, I don't want to accidentally get a third."

"It could always be a dare," Cinder reminded him.

"Fine," he tossed the cap, "heads."

Again? What does he not want me to ask? "Tails," Cinder answered firmly. It landed on tails and Cinder smirked. "Told you," she taunted. "I dare you to make it snow in the room," she asked with no hesitation. She wanted to see him actually use his magic, and she was curious to see exactly how magical it was.

"That's it?" Jack laughed as he picked his staff up off the floor. He pointed it toward the ceiling and what looked like ice shot out of the top of the curve in the staff. Suddenly, the room flashed a soft white and from the ceiling dropped a few lazy snowflakes. Then more began to fall. A peaceful quiet settled into the room as hundreds of snowflakes twinkled and swirled in circles and zigzags. When they landed near Cinder, however, they instantly melted and dampened her hair and her skin. In the back of her mind, she hoped that Jack wouldn't notice. But at the moment, she felt light and comforted, surrounded by the rest of the snow that wasn't melting. When each flake landed on a surface, they dissipated in blue sparkles without a trace. The best part, however, was that this snow wasn't cold like Jack, but it wasn't melting as easily, either. Maybe it was because she was so enthralled by them, but she didn't feel the need to think too hard about it. Her green eyes lit up and her hair held a soft moonlight glow around the edges, highlighted by the coppery undertones. When the last snowflake disappeared, she turned to Jack, still smiling in awe.

His pale face and white hair glowed softly, little snowflakes still present and making their home there. The blue eyes were now a brighter blue, and Cinder noticed that they had a snowflake pattern around the pupil that made his eyes more cheerful than she thought was possible. Then there was his smile. It was a lopsided smile that showed his amazingly white teeth. I bet the Tooth Fairy loves him. She thought about taunting him, but his face held pure interest, fun, and intrigue that drew Cinder in a trance. He laughed the longer that she looked at him and his cheeks began to turn into a light pink tint.

"What's so funny?" Cinder snapped out of it, some of her heat escaping her, despite her better knowledge.

"It's nothing," Jack was still smiling, but he looked away, "you just actually looked happy. It almost didn't fit you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cinder narrowed her eyes at him.

"No, no," Jack's face turned to mild surprise, "I just meant it seems like you haven't been happy before. It was a nice change."

It was Cinder's turn to blush, but considering her powers, the color in her cheeks was far more noticeable. It was sort of true. The only time she really felt happy was when she could fly around, but that didn't happen unless she wanted to lose sleep or she had a job to do. Both situations meant the happiness couldn't last. But Cinder had given up on feeling that way. Being immortal, she realized, meant giving up many human functions, which included happiness and friendship. She suddenly became cognizant of what was happening, and she frowned.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," Cinder said flatly. She knew the question he was meaning to ask her.

"But we just got started..." Jack's countenance fell momentarily, but he tried to smile again. "Alright," he said quietly. "Goodnight, Cinder."

"Night," she muttered as she turned away and headed up the stairs. "You're taking them to school, remember that! I don't want to wake up before ten tomorrow!"

"Aye, aye," Jack saluted her, even though she was already gone from sight.

Cinder got up into her room and shut the door quietly, then slumped down to the floor and stared out the window. The heat returned to her instantly and she reminded herself of the immense pressure that she kept within her so that Jack wouldn't be overwhelmed. She was worried that he would have questioned her about his burned arm, but he didn't mention a word. It didn't even seem like he was all that worried about it. A tepid frenzy took over her thoughts once again. Jack Frost was once human, and he had memories of those times. Cinder was a spirit, and now she wanted her memories. But first she had to deal with Jack.

He worked for the Guardians. Pitch was imprisoned by the Guardians, and Pitch was her contractor, her protector, and practically her father. By all counts, Cinder and Jack should hate each other. And before the previous night's job, Pitch mentioned that he would contact her again when he could. If he was freed and still needed her, she couldn't let herself get hurt again.

I will not repeat myself, damn it. I learned the first time, and I will not make this mistake again. She swore to herself as she crawled over Sophie and into bed that as soon as she had her memories, she would leave everything behind and finish wherever she left off: being alone.

A/N: Ten chapters in and they've FINALLY had a full conversation! But don't worry, the rest of the story will not be this slow. From here on out, things are going to get pretty complicated. ;) So please read, review, and enjoy! :)