A/N: This one's a little late but last week my brain was just not doing what I wanted it to do, writing-wise. Even editing was kind of a thing, my attention span is kind of a mess sometimes. This chapter actually wound up taking a different turn than I expected it to, but I like what happened with it. Still on the short side, still building up momentum and getting a feel for this story. You guys know me by now, they'll get longer in time.
ForeverACharmedOne, Apollo really is a big mess, isn't he? Glad you liked the Chinese mythology. Thought I'd try to expand a bit (sometimes I feel like I'm getting too comfy with Greek/Roman myth), I don't know how much they'll show up again yet. AkariWolfPrincess, unfortunately it is just a hallucination! Jack just seems to have a pretty good idea of how she would react. burnblebee, As far as I know, there's no specific Nü Gui by that name, I just felt that if they were going to be talking to one specific one I should give her a name. I chose "Min" because it means clever and sharp, and also I like names that are both masculine and feminine (see: Rowan). Fenrir Wylde Razgriz, Glad you're enjoying it! Figments of Delusion, Thanks! It was a nice way to kind of cheat and write something with Rowan again despite her being dead, I miss her. Nameless, Glad you don't totally hate me for all the emotions I've put you through! mandyadventures, Thanks! Glad you like it so far! CallingtheStorm, That's so nice, I'm glad you enjoyed the last story and are enjoying this one so far!
He knew what it was like to be told not to believe. It hurt. He wasn't about to do that to them.
Chapter Three: This Jet-Black Feeling
"I think I'm going to sign him up for a class at the rec center or something, he's barely leaving the house," Lorelei Bennett said, her cell phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder as she poured pasta into boiling water for the night's dinner. "The kids around the neighborhood have to come here and ask for him and I have to talk him into going out to play. It used to be that he was the one banging on everyone's doors to go on some adventure."
"I always had to force Rowan out to play, she was content with her coloring and her stories," came the voice of her sister, Dot Sawyer, from the phone.
"Usually once summer vacation hits, I have to practically drag him back inside every night. But he's mostly just been sitting in his room, going through Rowan's old notebooks and looking so, so sad," Lorelei sighed, stepping aside from the stove. She set the nearby timer.
"I'd do the same thing if I didn't have work to distract myself. I keep thinking I should start going through her room, through all the boxes we brought back from her apartment and figure out what to do with it all but we're just not ready yet," said Dot. Lorelei couldn't recall the last time she spoke to her sister without hearing that sad tone in her voice.
How Lorelei longed for the days when she and Dot had cheerful conversations, reporting on their children's accomplishments and sharing stories. She missed when the direst things they discussed were annoying coworkers or something stupid that had happened on the commute to work.
She swore that Dot had aged five years in a few months. Lorelei was sure she didn't look that great either.
"Rowan dying hit all of us hard. But it feels like there's something else going on. Even when his dad died, Jamie didn't seem so… I don't know, almost angry," said Lorelei. "I tried getting him to talk to his school counselor but I guess he didn't talk much when he went… and he won't talk to me."
"Well, sign him up for a class, maybe he just needs to keep busy, get his mind off everything," Dot said. "You can always try some kind of counseling or something again later. Don't force it. Bill's finally going to see someone next week."
Lorelei glanced toward the staircase, knowing that Jamie was upstairs in his room mulling over those notebooks again.
"He was always my happy boy that believed in everything good in the world," Lorelei said, her voice growing small as she spoke. "Through Avery's death and everything else, he could always make me smile, because he was always bursting with energy and ideas. Just like Avery. Just like Rowan. It breaks my heart to see him like this."
"He'll bounce back. He's a strong boy," Dot said. "Kids always bounce back from these things faster than the rest of us."
"What if he doesn't? What if it's too much and he just shuts down? He's too young to be this unhappy," Lorelei said, blinking back tears as she adjusted her glasses.
"It's only been a couple of months. And the circumstances were so bizarre, there's still so many questions. We all need time."
"I'm sorry," Lorelei said, taking a deep breath. "It must be so frustrating, listening to me fret over my son when Rowan's gone."
"No, no, don't ever stop talking to me about Jamie or Sophie. I'm here for you," Dot said. "Although, I will admit… I miss worrying about her. I miss calling her, hearing her voice. I miss the way she'd get annoyed every time I asked her if she'd eaten that day and the way she would have to re-explain the different majors at her school to me."
Lorelei could hear her sister sniffle on the other side of the phone. There was some fumbling and then the sound of her blowing her nose.
"If she were still around, she'd be halfway done with her degree right now. She'd be home for the summer, working that retail job she hates and signing up for art festivals," Dot said.
"Jamie would be begging me to talk to her on the phone to hear the next part of her story. Or trying to get that web cam to work again so that she could tell him over the computer. Oh, all the kids would be asking if Rowan was coming to visit again this summer, they adored her," Lorelei said with a frown.
"She loved them too, she kept saying that one, Cupcake, was it? She kept saying that Cupcake should run for president," Dot said, actually sparing a small laugh.
"I would vote for her," Lorelei said, smiling softly.
"This is never how I saw things going for us, Lor. We were supposed to grow up, get married, have kids—"
"Well, I mean, we did do that. Technically," Lorelei said with a sad sigh.
"We were supposed to fall in love and grow old with that person. We were supposed to watch our kids do the same, have grandkids! And now here we are, with the shattered remains of that 'perfect family' plan."
"No, it's not what we expected at all. Parents should never out-live their children… children shouldn't grow up without a parent. But they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" Lorelei said.
"I try to remind myself that. I try to remember that Rowan wouldn't want me feeling sorry for myself and moping around about her when I could take this and do something productive with it… but it just doesn't feel fair."
"No. None of it is fair. For whatever reason, this is the hand we've been dealt and we have to do our best with it."
Jamie was not in his room, as Lorelei had thought. No, Jamie was sitting at the top of the stairs quietly listening in to his mother's side of the phone call, a frown fixed to his face.
He felt awful about worrying her, he truly did. Lorelei had so much to worry about, particularly since Jamie's father had died. Everything had fallen to her, keeping them fed, clothed, healthy, in school, and happy.
"Happy," was not something that could be bought, scheduled, or forced, however. Jamie wished he could just be happy like he was before, to ease his mother's mind if nothing else.
She always seemed to know when he attempted to fake a smile or a pleasant mood.
Jamie pulled himself to his feet, silently making his way back to his room, careful not to slam the door behind him. The door clicked softly into place and he walked over to the box near his bed, with "For Jamie" written on the side in permanent marker.
He began to rummage through the notebooks inside, still wondering how it was that Rowan knew to label the box in such a way.
Did she know that she was going to die?
Tears sprang to his eyes and he quickly rubbed them away.
How was he supposed to tell his mother or his friends or the school counselor that his friend, Jack Frost, had promised him that everything was going to be okay?
How was he supposed to tell them that Jack Frost had assured him that Rowan was all right and that she was going to come home safe?
How was he supposed to say that he felt betrayed because the spirit of winter had promised to protect Rowan and then didn't?
Jack had become every other grown up, with empty promises and lies told for Jamie's "own good." The only reason Jack had admitted to anything happening with the Shadow People or why Rowan had been in Burgess at all that night was because Jamie had figured out enough that lies weren't going to cut it anymore.
Jack Frost had let him down.
The Guardians had let him down.
He had believed with everything in him that they were that pure good that so often existed only in storybooks. He had believed harder than anyone else and this is what it had gotten him.
A box full of unfinished stories, and a new grave to visit in the cemetery.
He hadn't told his friends what exactly had happened, how the Guardians were involved. He didn't want them to feel that sinking, empty feeling in their stomachs when they realized that Jack and the Guardians weren't all they had thought them to be.
He knew what it was like to be told not to believe. It hurt. He wasn't about to do that to them.
As far as his mother and the pleasant school counselor with her emotion chart and stuffed animals? Jamie wasn't an idiot. He knew they would write off anything about the Guardians as an overactive imagination. He remembered all too well telling his mother about them before and having her remark that it was such a "creative story," and that he was turning out just like Rowan.
"If you were here, I could talk to you," Jamie said, finding the notebook he'd been looking for and pulling it out of the box. Rowan never thought he was silly for believing in Santa Claus or Bigfoot or ghosts.
Rowan was the only grown-up he knew that could see Jack, interact with him.
He remembered pelting Jack with a snowball when the winter spirit had come so close to kissing Rowan. He remembered the glances they gave each other after, Jack confessing that he had feelings for her.
Pippa and Cupcake used to giggle softly under their breath, whispering about Jack and Rowan until the boys asked what was so funny. They were all then treated to near swoons as the girls discussed how handsome Jack was and wondered if he and Rowan would get married, and if any of them would get invited to the ceremony.
The girls theorized that Jack and Rowan had to have kissed dozens of times, and wondered where Jack would take her on dates or if they had ever ballroom danced like in all of those fairy tale movies. Jack certainly had given her flowers before, they were sure of it.
Truly, having a couple around made the girls far more prone to giggling than Jamie had ever experienced.
But there had been a point where he had been all right with the notion of Jack and Rowan being "together forever" and marrying and everything else the girls had discussed.
They seemed very happy, but in a weird, sort of different way. He had seen both of them happy on separate occasions but there was something about the way they smiled around each other.
Jamie was sure that Rowan had trusted Jack just as much, if not more, than he had. And somehow that made it all worse.
But he couldn't help but think back to a comment Cupcake had made some time after the funeral. "Jack must be so sad."
Jack had looked upset the last time Jamie had seen him. Jack had to be missing Rowan just as much as everyone else was.
But did that make everything else that had happened okay?
Jamie didn't know. All he knew was that he had spent so much time being angry at Jack that it didn't make much sense to feel anything else now.
And yet the story in this box that he kept coming back to was the one that Rowan had written with both Jack and Jamie in mind.
He opened the notebook to the first page and read the words she had so carefully written.
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jack. He was young, a trickster, as boys named "Jack" tended to be…
Jack hit the ground with a thud and scrambled for his staff. He pulled himself upright, steady on his hands and knees as he felt around frantically for the opening of the bag. He had been thrown in so quickly and it was so dark that he was unsure which way he was even facing.
"Get ready!" he could hear North saying as the fabric of the bag shifted and light was finally let inside. Get ready? Get ready for what?
Just what was the big idea? Jack felt betrayed, in a way, that he would be ambushed and shoved in a sack again. Had the yetis dragged him back to the pole by force since the first time? Sure. But North had laid off on the sacks for most of those occasions.
And now here they were. Back at square one.
Sliding through the opening in the bag, Jack immediately jumped to his feet, feeling dizzy as he went, the entire pole a blur. He kicked off the ground, attempting to fly away, only for something to grab his ankle and pull him down.
"What the hell?!" Jack demanded, swinging his staff at the yeti that had a strong grip on his ankle still. Another yeti was quick to grab the other, effectively shackling him to the platform.
"Calm down, Jack!" Calliope said. She, Sandy and North were standing close by. This wasn't a meeting, he was sure, or more people would be here.
No, Sandy was conjuring up a large, spinning orb of dream sand.
"Did you seriously drag me here to make me go to sleep?" Jack demanded, icing over one yeti's hand and freeing one of his ankles. Another yeti appeared from seemingly nowhere to capture it again.
"We would not have to if you would sleep on your own," North scolded, arms crossed before him.
"You don't get to tell me what to do with my life, we've been over this!" Jack said, now hopelessly jabbing at the yetis with the end of his staff in the hopes of them letting go. His head was pounding.
The yetis seemed mildly annoyed, if anything, still keeping a tight grip on him. It was clear that this was far from the most obnoxious or difficult thing they had to deal with in their time working with North.
"Jack, this is for your own good, do not make things harder than they need to be," North said.
"Well, that is sort of his M.O.," Calliope commented.
"Date one mortal," Jack scoffed. "Let me go, I can handle this!"
Sandy raised a brow, skeptical of this statement.
"Sandy will not give you dreams about Rowan, Jack, it will be okay," North said, trying to reason with the boy.
"No, it won't, because I'm seeing her when I'm awake now, too! I was hallucinating her a few minutes ago, nothing is okay!" Jack said, starting to sound desperate the longer this went on. His movements were growing sluggish, so much of his limited energy spent in panic when he was tossed into the sack.
He just wanted to go somewhere else, anywhere else. He'd figure out where that was when he got there.
"If you're hallucinating, you need to sleep," Calliope said, sounding concerned.
"You're not my parents, leave me the hell alone!" Jack snapped. "I'm not a child, I don't need your protecting!"
"He is too exhausted to be reasoned with, I told you this would not be easy," North said, shaking his head. "Sandy?"
Sandy tossed the orb of dream sand Jack's way and he ducked, quickly, dodging it. Jack barely had a chance to feel victorious before a third yeti grabbed at his arm, pulling him down even further.
Sandy threw another orb. This one did not miss, hitting Jack square in the face.
His staff clattered against the floor and he fell limp in the yetis' grips. As North stepped forward to take Jack from them, a few elves rushed over to the staff, eyes sparkling with mischief and curiosity.
Their attempts to retrieve the staff were thwarted, however, as Calliope stepped forward and picked it up herself.
North cradled Jack in his arms, dream sand twisting above the boy's head. "How long can you keep him out?" North asked Sandy as they began to walk toward one of the guest rooms.
Charts and graphs appeared above Sandy's head, all educated guesses at an average amount of hours. In the end, however, the small man seemed to think that Jack was so sleep deprived that he might be asleep for quite a while anyway.
"Hallucinations, though," Calliope tsked. "Suppose those will go away once he's had a decent sleep?"
Sandy nodded, holding open the door to the guest room.
"Well, that is good," North said, stepping inside. Calliope walked across the room, closing the thick curtains over the window. It was summer now, which meant that it was light almost all the time this far north.
North set Jack carefully in the bed, pulling the blankets over his sleeping form although he knew that the boy didn't need them. Jack shifted in his sleep, seeming to reach his arm out for something, only for it to fall flat.
North frowned at the sight as Calliope propped Jack's staff against the wall near the bed. "Hm. One moment," he said, stepping outside the room.
Calliope cast Sandy a quizzical look. Sandy shrugged.
A short while later, North returned with what appeared to be a life-size stuffed emperor penguin toy. The man had a smile on his face, looking nothing short of triumphant.
"Why do you have a penguin?" Calliope asked.
"Something to hold on to," North said, stepping over to the bed. He gently lifted Jack's arm before sliding the stuffed penguin underneath it.
The boy shifted again, his grip tightening on the toy.
"Well, if that's not the most adorable version of Jack Frost I've ever seen," Calliope said with a smile. Sandy was covering his mouth in an attempt to hide silent laughter. "I wish I had a camera."
"Come, come," North said, gesturing to the door. "We let him sleep."
The other two nodded, stepping past North and out to the rest of the Pole. North glanced back at Jack again and sighed slightly, reaching forward to ruffle the sleeping boy's hair.
"I know," North said softly. "Sleeping alone is one of the harder parts."
And with that, North stepped out of the room, softly closing the door behind him.