~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Author's Notes~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hello, are you all ready for another chapter? (What a silly question) Yeah, I just asked that rather rhetorical question. So I see putting the wind in there was not a bad choice after all. Glad you all enjoyed it; now on to the next chapter.
Disclaimer: we all know I don't own RoTG…need I say more?
Chapter 12: Memories Long Forgotten
Pain and exhaustion had caused Jack to retreat within himself. A choice he really hated to make, but did it out of necessity. At first everything around him was silent and dark, a concept that he both hated and feared. He thought it would go on forever until a small light started to call to him. Intrigued by the new development, he pushed his conscious mind forward to investigate.
Before he knew it he was floating in the midst of a raging snow storm. Everything around him was completely white from the kiss of winter. Trees were covered in thick mounds of snow making them lean under the pressure. Any foliage that was there was no longer visible under the layers of snow; and what little trees remained poking out of the endless white would soon become covered.
In his eyes this storm had the makings of a perfect blizzard, one that could cause an entire city to shut down for days. This made a particular question rise to boys mind, who was making it snow? Blizzards take a concentrated amount of energy in order to form, therefore someone or something was doing this. Sure nature could produce some light snow fall when he was not around, but that type of snow would never stick.
Drifting closer to the ground Jack started humming to him self, being in the presence of such wonderful snow made him happy. As his feet made contact with the ground his small smile vanished. All he knew for the last few days was heat, and he really wanted to feel the cool touch this snow would offer. However, his feet seemed to just pass through the mounds as if they were not even there.
At first he was in shock, but then reality started to kick in. "Wow, I should have known this was too good to be true." He mumbled to no one in particular.
Gazing at the world around him began to realize that this was just memory. Thanks to Tooth and Sandy he had been able to make out the difference between the two. Now, he just needed to find out what memory it was. This didn't take long, for through the haze of the storm he spotted his signature blue hoodie.
"Now this is weird, why am I having a flashback of myself as a spirit?"
Watching his former self floating through the air was slightly disturbing, he couldn't quite place why but it just was. Being as he never changed in appearance over the years, placing the time in which this was happening was proving to be very difficult. He even attempted yelling at him self for some kind of hint; it may have failed but he couldn't help trying.
He was almost willing to give up until a small voice sounded in the distance. Obviously the other Jack (which we will call Frost so we don't get confused) heard it as well because he stopped waving his staff around. Both of them strained their ears hoping to hear the sound again. Frost shrugged and started to move on until the voice echoed out again.
"Mom! Dad! Is anyone out there?!" the small voice echoed out in desperation.
Frost rushed forward and found the young boy huddling next to a tall oak tree. Everything about this seemed oddly familiar to Jack as he watched the interaction that took place. Frost had tried to speak to the child but was completely ignored. Kneeling down to the boy Frost reached out his hand and tried to make contact, but to his dismay fazed right trough him.
His presence did not go unnoticed however; the boys head shot up and his eyes popped open. Frost and Jack both gasped at what they had seen, this boy was blind. Frost looked at the boy's entire appearance and became deeply concerned. He was a small child with little to no body fat on him. Draped over his upper body was a light overcoat with a light sweater underneath. Thin high water pants clung to his tiny legs, and small boots encased his feet. His pale face was nipped red from the wind biting at his exposed skin and no gloves graced his hands.
No child should be outside in this weather, especially an underdressed blind child. Frost racked his brain trying desperately to think of a way to get the child to safety. If he wasn't blind he would have used his snow to lead the child to a town. That's when an idea came to him, something he had been thinking about for some time.
Concentrating on the snow at his feet he began sculpting his creation; pushing and pulling the snow until it formed a small snowman. It wasn't much bigger than the child would be if it stood up. Frost looked over his creation with a scrutinizing eye until he was satisfied. With a tap of his staff and a bit of magic the sculpture came to life.
"Sweet it worked! I've got to go bigger next time, but first." Frost pointed out the boy to his creation and then gestured in the direction of the nearest town. As if responding to his command the little snow man made its way over to the boy.
At first the boy freaked out at the cold contact of the unknown being, but as it waited patiently the boy began to settle down. Taking his small hands he began to poke and prod the silent being in front of him. He giggled and laughed as his fingers told him what his eyes could not.
"Hello little snowman, have you come to take me home?" He asked in a shaky yet excited voice. Wrapping a cold hand around the boy's wrist it began to tug and the boy began to fallow. Frost stood up and started to use his staff to carve a path for the boy and his creation. Sometimes he floated above them, and at other times he walked. The nameless child talked to his new silent friend about anything that was on his mind. Maybe it was a way to block out his fear or the cold; what ever the reason he just kept talking and so Frost just listened.
"Mommy told me not to go out today; she said it was going to snow. I didn't think it would be this bad though. Daddy is probably going to be mad at me for being a bad boy. Do you think I will be punished Mr. Snowman?"
"If I had to guess I would say yes." Frost responded as if the boy was talking to him.
"Yeah I think so to. My friends think I do this to get attention, but that's not true! If anything I want people to stop making a big deal over me. I can take car of my self…well except now." He added sheepishly.
Frost chuckled this boy was a trip. "Ah what do they know, I think you're doing just fine kiddo."
"You know they say that I don't know what's real because I can't see. I say they are the ones that are blind! Danny got coal in his stocking even after I warned him that Santa doesn't like it when kids were bad. Billy lost a tooth and threw it at me rather than putting it under his pillow. What a waste of a penny. Karen told me that the Easter bunny doesn't hide eggs…ok so I can prove her wrong on that one, but I know that he is there! Even the Sandman makes dreams all bright when it's dark, why can't they see that? Speaking of dark Roger said he had a bad dream and I told him he did something to anger the boogieman. The Rodger and Dickson kids had nightmares as well, but the said I did something. ME, the blind kid gave them bad dreams! Can you believe that Mr. Snowman? Hey what's your name, I can't keep calling you Mr. Snowman?"
Frost chuckled, "Frosty." He joked aloud not expecting anything.
"I know how about Frosty?" the boy giggled.
Frost looked at the boy and started to crack up, what were the odds of that? As he started to respond again a new voice rang through the air. It was the boy's parents on the edge of the village. They had made it to the edge of the forest and to safety, their journey was over. Frost hated to see the boy go being as he felt like they actually talked, but he knew that this was how it was meant to be. With the help of the Wind Frost led the boy's parents to the child's little voice.
"William Johnson you naughty boy, what have we told you about going out in this weather?!" his mother cried while hugging him.
"Momma! You won't believe it, this snowman led me back home!" he yelled excitedly. His mother and father exchanged worried glances then looked around him.
"Honey, there isn't anything there." His mother said gently.
"No!" the boy reached out but felt nothing, "He was right here it's the truth!"
The boy's father sighed, "Maybe the winds of winter brought you home, now come its time you got warm."
As the family retreated to their house explaining what spirits were Frost shook his head. Yet again someone else was receiving all the credit, and this time it was the wind.
"Come on wind; let us get back to this blizzard."
Jack watched as his younger self began to fly away and the scene around him began to fade back to black nothingness. Jack kept playing with the information that he had remembered, there had to be a reason he had seen that particular memory. Every time he had a memory it was directly linked to a situation he was dealing with at the time. That was when something like a missing piece of the puzzle fell into place.
Jolting awake in his cramped cage Jack grimaced, he was so absorbed in his what he had recalled that he had forgotten about the pain. Part of him really hated the fact that he had woken up, but the other part of him was glad.
"William Johnson…Stevie Johnson…of course!" he wheezed, his voice burned as he spoke.
It had finally made since as to why Stevie's story of his grandfather never made since. His grandfather really was seen as a crazy by the friends growing up, that part was true. Heck even his own parents seem to think he was a little strange.
Stevie knew that his grandfather was telling the truth about the mythos, but that didn't mean everyone would. It was starting to make since. So that part of what Stevie said had been the truth. But there was no possible way that little William Johnson had seen Jack Frost; that was a complete and total lie.
In fact the reason as to why the boy was out in the snow was false as well! Stevie said that William (his grandfather) was at his father's house when his brother told him Jack Frost was real; and that he went out to find him. He failed at first but eventually seen him while getting lost. Sure the boy was lost and Jack led him home, but it was by accident.
William didn't have a brother if Jack remembered correctly. As he remembers it William was an only child who first heard about the winter 'spirits' from his father the day Jack rescued him.
Jack couldn't understand how or when the truth of the past had become so distorted. Jack wanted nothing more to ask Stevie but much to his dismay the boy had yet to return to the attic. He wasn't sure how long it had been, but he was sure another day had passed after he had fallen to the heat. Stevie was really sticking to his 'I hate you' stance and Jack was concerned.
Everything about all of this was messed up, Jack just couldn't believe it. Pulling himself into a sitting position he felt disgusted at his state. As he took in everything: his sweaty form, the memory, the truth, the lies, the cage, the room, the lack of wind, the lack of cool, the heat, the pain, the confusion, the Guardians, that vile Pitch, his helplessness, his thirst, absolutely everything… something just snapped.
Small at first he began to chuckle, then ever so steadily it began to grow. His laughter racked his body producing more pain; this in turn produced more laughter becoming an endless cycle. He felt like he was going mad from all of this.
He paused for a moment to take a breath, but it only made it funnier. Most people would become depressed and angry or even lethargic in this kind of situation. As the Spirit of Fun however, Jack found that all he could do in this situation was laugh. True, from the outside he probably looked like a crazy person. He was after all sitting in a cage, sweating up a storm while laughing his head off. Yeah, sure that was totally normal.
Jack wanted to stop laughing don't get him wrong, he just didn't know how. He didn't want the Guardians; which he knew would be arriving any day now, to see him like this. It was not only demeaning but it made him look weak.
What he wouldn't give to beat the crap out what ever being created heat. Man he just knew the Easter Kangaroo was going to give him a hard time, and that's what made this horrible.
As he laughed, his laughter echoing off the walls creating an eerie tune. Jack looked towards the distant window. Tears of pain began to sting at his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He only allowed tears of Joy and happiness on his face, not these tears of pain and hate.
Not these tears.