Hullo everyone! So here I am, with the beginning of a new story arc!

Thanks to everyone who has faved, followed, reviewed and PMed, and please continue to let me know what you think about the oneshots and arcs, and feel free to share ideas! Also, I have a favor to ask! If any of you awesome readers like Danny Phantom, I wrote a Danny Phantom oneshot and I'd really love it if some of your would read it and let me know what you think about it! I'd appreciate it a lot!

So...Yup!

Disclaimer's on my prof.!

Enjoy!

Jack hurt everywhere. His head, his legs, his arms, everything. It all hurt.

Jack was also terrified. He couldn't heal himself, his power had been sapped right out of him thanks to the horrid heat he was trapped in.

It didn't happen often, not with how powerful he was, but sometimes Jack could be overwhelmed by another spirit. This time around, it had been some Summer sprites.

Despite being a Guardian now, the troublemaking sprites still enjoyed going after Jack. he'd always been seen as a challenge: the sole bringer of Winter who could take on more than a few Summer sprites or fire elementals at once. It was a game for the sprites, and this time they'd won.

This wasn't the first time this had happened, though his wounds were significantly worse than the other times before. The sprites had managed to lure him into Africa, having tricked Jack into thinking that a child was in trouble. Jack was no fool, but he cared more than anything about kids, and so he wasn't about to leave anything to chance and he'd quickly gone to Africa, ignoring how dangerous and draining the heat was for him.

And there had been no child. Upon reaching Africa, one of the sprites had managed to knock Jack's staff from his hand. Without the conduit, the Winter Spirit had plummeted towards the ground like a rock, the Summer sprites laughing and jeering, darting past and raking their fire-hot daggers over him, their hands grabbing at him and leaving burns in their wake. The pain had been excruciating as he'd fallen, but only got worse as he hit the ground.

While a spirit couldn't die, they could certainly break bones. Before he'd even reached the Continent's surface, the sprites had fled, having had their fun and leaving Jack all alone. Upon impact with the ground, something had immediately snapped in Jack's side- a rib, maybe even two of them, if the young Guardian had to guess. He'd hit the ground so hard he actually bounced, tumbling back until he'd hit an old, half-petrified tree. The contact had sent a jolt of pain through him as his head smacked against the tree trunk with a resounding crack.

And that was how he'd ended up where he was now, his staff only a few feet from his reach (and thankfully unbroken), but Jack himself unable to move enough to get it. It had been a good few hours since the incident, and the many knife wounds on his body still felt agonizing. The knives that the sprites had used had cauterized the injuries as soon as they'd made them, but that hurt just as bad, if not more, than an open wound. Even with his mind muddled and his body exhausted beyond comprehension, Jack could still feel each of the knife wound's painfully well: a few nicks on his arms, a particularly nasty slice along the outside of Jack's left leg from his knee down to his ankle, a few smaller but no less painful cuts on his chest that had left his hoodie torn nearly to shreds. A long, particularly nasty gash ran up Jack's back (which had made his collision with the ground and the tree that much worse). The worst and most painful injury, though was the stab wound.

At Jack's right shoulder, one of the sprite's had stabbed their dagger in deep, the knife having only stopped when it hit bone. The sprite, caught up in the thrill of having managed to land a blow, had dragged the knife down across the side of his chest before finally pulling the weapon out just above Jack's hip bone. Nothing important had been gouged out by the knife, but even if the dagger had sliced his heart, Jack still wouldn't have died anyhow: a spirit was immortal, unable to die. The most that sort of injury would have done was cause Jack the worst pain of his life, but luckily the Summer sprites had horrible aim.

But still, that stab that had been then dragged down to his hip had hurt as much as seeing a child in pain. Cauterized by the heat-imbued weapon like all of the other wounds, this particularly horrid injury was ugly- the skin blackened like smoke and standing out prominently against Jack's pale complexion. The other wounds were almost just as nasty in appearance, and bruises had blossomed over Jack's form. By his ribs, in particular, on his left side. Where there was no doubt broken bone, the skin had become a dark purple-blue. The same hue decorated Jack's back, no doubt, irritating the gash there. A cut on the back of Jack's head, from when he'd hit the tree, had finally clotted up and stopped bleeding freely, but the young Guardian still felt lightheaded.

Even as dusk approached, the heat was unbearable. It always was, in Africa at least. And the heat, combined with the agonizing pain of his injuries that hadn't dulled at all in the hours he'd been here, left Jack unable to move or use his powers. He was hurt, alone...

And scared.

Jack wanted someone, anyone to come! North, Tooth, Sandy, Bunny...

He really wished Bunny was here. He always knew what to do, it seemed like.

But Bunny wasn't here. He was alone.

Aster knew something was wrong.

Some might call him paranoid, would say that Jack had the mind of a teenager and teenagers were always late, but Jack was never this late. At the most, he'd be late by half an hour, maybe an hour at most, but not seven hours.

And sure, Jack and he argued on a daily basis, they'd wrestle around and get on each others nerves, but Bunny couldn't deny that he was starting to get really worried. Jack was like a nest brother to him- sure, it wasn't official, but that made no difference, as far as Bunny was concerned, Jack was his nest brother. And right now, Bunny knew something was wrong, because Jack wasn't back yet. He was far too overdue to return.

He would've gone to look for Jack, but the problem was he didn't know where the Winter Spirit was. Sure, before he left Jack would give a vague explanation of what he was going to do and when he'd be back, but that was all.

So, he'd just have to wait. Maybe Jack had just gotten distracted! Yes, that had to be it...

Forget it, he was going to go look for Jack. He wouldn't be able to get any work done while he was worried.

Straightening, Bunny glanced at the nearby egg golems.

"Hold down th' fort while I'm gone, yeah? I'll be back 'n a bit."

No reply was given, and the Pooka took off for the surface. First it would be best to go to Jack's usual haunts, like Alaska and Colorado and Burgess, and if that didn't work he supposed he could ask around. Maybe Jack was hanging out with the Fall Sprite who he'd befriended, Rustle Ling, or maybe Bartholomew knew where Jack had flown off to.

He just hoped Jack hadn't gotten into trouble again.

Bunny was now officially panicking.

He'd been searching for Jack for hours, five hours at least. He'd gone back to his Warren twice just to make sure that the younger Guardian hadn't returned while he was gone. But no, he hadn't even caught Jack's scent, and now he was officially terrified as to what Jack might have gotten himself into. He was never twelve hours late. He always came back when he said he was going to, give or take an hour at most!

Out of options, Aster went to the other Guardians.

At first, they'd thought that Jack was probably having tons of fun and just lost track of time, but at learning Jack was over twelve hours late? They'd all gotten moving pretty quickly.

They'd split the world into four quadrants and each took one. North took the colder climates, such as the Poles and Greenland, while Tooth took the humid climates, like Japan and Brazil. Sandy took the drier climates, including the U.S.A and Mexico, and Bunny took the warmer climates, from Africa to Australia and so on.

Aster really hoped he wouldn't find Jack, though. He'd be fine if Jack were anywhere but in a hot climate. He knew how the heat affected Jack, and if he ended up being in a hot climate for so long...

Bunny started moving that much faster at that thought.

Twelve hours had become fourteen by now, and Bunny's instincts were screaming at him to find his nest brother, and now.

"Jack!" Bunny called as he popped out of a tunnel in the middle of the savannah. "Frostbite, if yer here tell me!" No reply. "Jack!"

"B-...Bunny...?"

Aster almost didn't catch the cracking whisper, but luckily his strong hearing caught it. Head whipping around, Spring Green eyes sweeping the area...

Aster's blood went cold.

"JACK!"

The Pooka rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside the small, prone form that lay under a tree.

The Winter Spirit was barely conscious. His hair, usually pure white, was covered with dirt and dried blood, a deep cut on the back of the teen's head. The boy's skin was damp, hair and clothing the heat obviously having taken much of the boy's strength from him. A few feet away, Bunny saw Jack's staff. The teen's hoodie and pants were ripped through by what appeared to be sharp blades. Bruises and burns littered the teen, marring his pale skin, and through a tear in the boy's hoodie, Bunny could see a particularly nasty patch of black-blue bruising over Jack's ribs. Dozens of nicks and cuts, all cauterized rather barbarically and horridly painful looking. A stab at the teen's shoulder had been dragged all the way down to just above his hip, and that wound was by far the worst.

"No, nonono, strewth, Jack! Jus' hol' on, Jack, jus' hold on!"

A pained groan left Jack as the Pooka went to lift him.

"O-ow..!"

Aster winced, quickly pulling his arm away from the boy's back.

"Sorry, sorry!" Bunny stated quickly, expression pained. "I jus'...Look, I know it hurts, but I gotta get'cha back t' North's workshop-"

"No...W-wanna go h-home..."

It took Bunny a good minute to realize that what Jack meant by "home" was actually the Warren. It was surprising and endearing, but also heartbreaking, the young spirit sounding so much like a little child...

"A-alrigh', alrigh', I'll take ya home, kit, I'll take ya home. But I gotta pick ya up if we're gonna get there. An' its gonna hurt, but I promise I'll take ya right home, alrigh'? I promise."

Jack managed a small nod.

"Y-yeah...Okay..."

Bunny grimaced,

"Alrigh', on three. One...two...three."

Bunny lifted the teen as quickly yet carefully as possible. A strangled cry of pain left Jack, the sound ripping into Bunny's heart. He quickly shushed the teen, holding Jack close to his furred chest. He continued to murmur soothing words as he quickly grabbed Jack's staff and stomped his foot, creating a tunnel. Holding Jack's staff carefully in his teeth and cradling Jack to his chest with one arm, Aster used the last three of his limbs to run as fast as he could.

As the boy fell limp, unconscious, Aster ran that much faster.