Jack groaned as his alarm rang, rubbing his eyes blearily. He'd been up with nightmares almost the entire night, each one worse than the last and leaving him surprised to still be in the Burke's house. A few times he woke almost certain that he'd been kicked out and he would wake in the tunnel of the playset in the park. He spared a glare at the incessant beeping and seriously considered asking for one more day off. The thought barely lasted a moment before the teen gave a shudder and forced himself into sitting position. He wouldn't be able to survive another day moping around town. With a groan he forced himself into a sitting position, rubbing the sand out of his eyes and the nightmares out of his mind.
He was at the table tiredly spooning cereal into his mouth moments later, barely looking up as Peter and Elizabeth bustled around to get ready for their day.
"Are you sure you want to go to school today honey?" The woman asked.
"Yeah," Jack mumbled with a yawn. "I need something to distract me or something."
The woman nodded in understanding, placing a cup of hot chocolate in front of the boy. "Well, don't hesitate to call if you need to leave. I'll make sure Neal and Peter get off their lazy butts to take you home."
"Thanks." The boy managed with a warm smile. He may only be there because he was helping with the case, and he may still be somewhat bitter about it, but Elizabeth was a good person. He couldn't be mad at her about it.
"Of course sweetie."
"Ready to go?" Peter asked as he entered the room, a travel mug and newspaper in his hands.
"Sure." The boy answered as he stifled another yawn and gulped down the remainder of the hot coco. He pulled his backpack off the ground but remained fairly silent as he followed the agent to the car.
"You okay kid?"
Jack simply grunted. "Weird dreams."
"Oh." The man replied, shifting uneasily in his seat. "Uh, anything you want to talk about?"
The teen snorted softly but couldn't help the small, fond smile from flitting across his face. Sometimes Peter sounded like an alien who didn't know to interact around people who weren't criminals or his wife. He kind of wanted to see the man around an actual child. It was almost sweet, in fact Jack would call it sweet if it hadn't been for the 8 hour long reminder that the man would kick him out of the house as soon as the case was solved.
"It's fine. Just dreams, not so bad in the morning."
He could handle getting kicked out. He'd been living on his own for years, and El probably would let them do it until the worst of winter was over. Plus he had the Guardians now. He could call in favors with them or some of their henchmen. Maybe just stay in the workshop or something. He would be fine. He always was.
"Well, um, if you ever need to talk about it…"
Jack rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah, yeah. You'd be the first to know."
"Or El." Peter replied. "Or Neal or- or even Mozzie. Just… if you really need help we're all here."
The pale teen didn't say anything for a long moment before nodding jerkily and turning back to the window. The car was silent for the rest of the trip to Neal's place, neither person in the car speaking until the conman had slid into the back.
"So…" the suave conman began. "Those shopkeepers from last night…"
Jack groaned and buried his head in his hands, glaring out of the corner of his eye to where Neal sat in the back seat with an unrepentant grin.
"Mr. Halden," The art teacher's voice sounded. Jack's didn't look up at the unfamiliar name, his mind consumed with his project and his thoughts. "Mr. Halden." She called again, and the teen's mouth ticked down in irritation for a moment. I wish Halden would hurry up and answer her. Follow almost immediately by: oh crap. His head shot up to see the teacher standing less than two feet away, fixing a steely glare at him.
"Oh, uh, sorry Mrs. Hartwig. I was concentrating."
The woman nodded, her expression softening somewhat before she nodded at the black insulation sitting in front of the teen. "Remember, I'm giving you this time to work on your natural seasons project." She nodded at the groups working on sculptures with pine cones and working on shaving down ice.
"I know. Don't worry, I'm just doing something different."
The woman nodded uncertainly, but smiled at the teen and moved on, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'it's your grade'.
Jack grinned even as he turned back to his work, catching the woman giving him a wink before moving on. Mrs. Hartwig could be kinda weird, but she was really funny. He knew she would appreciate his art once she saw what it actually was. Which he hoped wouldn't be until he actually turned it in. He worked carefully and methodically, carving through the thick insulation until it matched the correct shapes, shoving it into his backpack as the bell rang for the day.
Baby Tooth was gone again, though she would probably be back by Monday. That was okay, that would give Jack the opportunity to talk to a couple of his favorite stalkers.
Two heads of dark hair shot up as Jack set his lunch down and slid into the seat next to them. "So Evan, Chloe; Neal finally told me that he apparently knows you two."
The couple froze for a moment before sharing a glance.
"Well," Chloe remarked dryly. "That explains a lot."
"Yeah," Evan replied. "We just figured they were talking about a different kid."
Jack grinned at them before taking a deliberate bite of food, letting them wiat as he chewed and swallows and practically oozing confidence and superiority. Jack knew these types. They wanted to be impressed, so you had to act as if you were impressive, important. "So, you guys going to the dace next week?"
"I don't know." The girl replied, sending a sharp look at Evan. The boy squirmed in his seat.
"I was gonna ask you after school." He finally murmured. "I had something planned and…"
A smile tug its way past Jack's lips. "Well then, how would you like to help out with official FBI business?"
The kids never ended up showing at the park after school, the numbers reaching nearly a record cold with horrible biting winds. Jack couldn't blame them, he was ready to head to Neal's the instant it was clear that they weren't coming.
The teen grinned as he made his familiar way up to the balcony and past the clear doors into the welcoming heat of Neal's apartment. He wasted almost no time in pulling out the pizza pockets he'd managed to score with a particularly effective bout of puppy dog eyes to a weak willed Mozzy. As the oven slowly warmed and crisped the room the teen made his way to the window and pulled the insulation out of his backpack. Carefully, methodically he taped it to the large window. If this worked like it should, the extra heat of the insulation would keep frost from forming where the black material lay. Ideally the frost would form only where he had cut out pictures, leaving a frozen image behind.
The teen ran his hands over the squat figure on the far left, squat and fat with arms raised as through power would be coming out of his hands. The Sandman. He allowed his fingers to continue over to the large rabbit standing proud with ears alert. The Easter Bunny. Then the feathered, petite figure. The Tooth Fairy. The larger than life, fat, tall man with a triangular hat and coat. Santa Clause. His finger paused uncertainly before tracing over the fifth and final figure, a skinny boy crouched on a staff. Jack Frost.
He licked his lips uncertainly. Maybe he shouldn't include that last one. Everyone knew about the Big Four, but Jack Frost… he was little more than a saying and a villain in the third Santa Clause movie. Unimportant, unnoticed, and certainly not one to share a place among four of the most often repeated childhood tales.
The teen heaved a deep sigh and sat back at his heels before straightening his face and making his way to the oven. It was past time for him to stop projecting his thoughts to his homework and it was most definitely not the time to have a pity party. Those weren't any fun. So, he got his snack, settled his books to surround him, and put in some stupid ma jong movie that was sitting around. He wasn't going to think about it.
The teen continued in his work until Mozz snuck in, the man grabbing a glass of wine before happily exclaim that he'd come in at 'the very best part' and plopped down beside him. It wasn't long after that Neal finally returned as well. Jack looked up at the man with a smile.
"Well Dad, ready to meet the girlfreind's family?"
"Are you?" The man replied.
"Are you kidding? Have you seen the place we have reservations for? And this is all coming from the FBI's pocketbook. I can't wait."
"Really? You think you're man enough to brave the man who has scared off every boyfriend before you?"
"Please. I met Pitch, how scary could this guy be?"
Apparently, Phil can be plenty scary when he wants to be. He shows up five minutes late, making the "Halden's" wait, and arrives in a tailored suit and a haircut that turns the shaggy yeti into a businessman who looks more like a mafia leader from an old TV show. When they finally show he has an arm wrapped protectively around B.T's shoulder and is glaring at Jack. That last thing at least, isn't exactly new. Phil has hated Jack for years, or at least pretended to.
The man manages to school his glare into a professional smile as he and Neal introduce and shake hands, though the look pointedly doesn't last when Baby introduces Jack to her father. Though, Jack supposes that can only help the façade and decides not to comment. At the tale Jack makes good on his promise to get the most out of the night, ordering one of the largest dinners on the menu. As they eat, the teen can only watch Neal in awe as the con artist expertly pokes, prods, and suggests until he has Phil completely wrapped around his finger.
The larger man looks confused, as though he knows that something isn't going to plan, but can't figure it out through Neal's charms and the knowledge that he is, in fact, getting exactly what he'd wanted. The two teens attempt to keep up conversation, but Baby is nearly transfixed as well. The two had been playing their 'pretend' game for so long that it was enticing to see an actual master at work, a man to whom con wasn't a game, but a way of life and occupation. It changed nearly everything, and even though they left that night with the plan intact and an invitation for Neal to play cards the night of the dance, Phil and Baby couldn't help but feel as they left that they were the ones being conned.
"How did it go?" Peter's voice sounded on speaker over the phone as Neal and Jack made their way back to the apartment.
"Incredible!" Jack enthused. "Our date is set. I swear Neal almost had the guy ready to marry him by the time the night was over. I wish I could have taken notes."
Peter snorted over the phone. "Why bother. You already have Neal and Mozz wrapped around your finger."
"You too!" Neal argued. "And worse, he has El wrapped around his finger, and she has you."
The agent grunted but didn't say anything in reply to the conman. "So it went well?"
"So far everything is going according to plan perfectly."
"Good. Jack did you cover things on your end?"
"Yup. We should be all set to get Papa Bear to the dance next week."
"Perfect. We still need to get you a suit, but I'll let Neal handle that. Otherwise I think it's all set. Not much else to do for tis until next weekend."
"Great." Neal responded and moved to turn off the phone, Jack slumped in the seat behind him. The teen yawned widely behind his hand. He was exhausted from his nightmares and the conversation had lasted well into the night. He was ready to pass out the instant he got back. That was, until he noticed the frost collecting in the corners of the car windows. After all, if frost was forming here, then that might mean it be forming around his art project. The boy practically sprinted up the steps to the apartment, leaving a bemused Neal behind as he rushed to the window and saw the frost splattered planes.
With a whoop of triumph the boy peeled back the material carefully, revealing the five icy creations so that they sat, crystalized and shining white against the black sky behind them. The boy immediately reached for a camera, furiously taking pictures of each angle he could think, in his excitement never giving a second thought to the boy on the staff that sat in every shot.