Summary:

Why was keeping control of himself so hard? He wanted whatever it was out of his mind, but it has different ideas.

With time running out and hope rapidly fading, the guardians are forced to make a choice.

Jack was sure he was dead this time.

He couldn't feel his limbs anymore, and the pain had grown to the point he couldn't remember anything else. Each breath he took felt heavy and useless.

If he wasn't dead, he must be dying, because never in his long life had he ever felt as weakened as this.

Strangely, he didn't mind. Either that, or his brain was shutting down – or maybe a bit of both. Jack wasn't sure; any kind of thought made his head hurt more.

"So did you like that, hmm?" A voice whispered close to his ear, and Jack tried to raise an arm to swat it away; his arm didn't obey, but stayed limp at his side. Jack then tried to answer, to tell it to shut up, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate either.

"Oh, you don't remember?" The voice mocked, amusement lining the edges of its words. "Never mind, I'll just leave you to rest."

Jack mentally thanked the voice, letting his mind move back to the blackness it had made itself earlier.

Wait, blackness?

A small part of Jack's sluggish brain questioned that fact, and the spirit probably would've furrowed his eyebrows if he could feel his face. From experience, Jack knew that any kind of sleep did not include being specifically black – okay, so maybe sometimes he couldn't remember his dreams, but he actually could remember the black that surrounded his mind like a virus.

"I don't think that it would be very wise to wake now." The voice taunted as Jack tried to push his mind into consciousness again; it was hard, like swimming in thick tar. His limbs screamed in protest and a sharp pain in his side was pulsing. He could feel something crawling under his skin, and it made him shudder.

"You have blood on your hands, don't you know?"

"Mmnnn…" Jack managed to say – sure, it wasn't the well chosen curse that he had in mind to shout at the whisper, but it was something.

A low hum was close to his ear, and he thought he could make out a few words within the noise.

"-aking…ack…"

"-eas…-t-ak…"

Jack let out another low groan as the pain hit him at its fullest. His chest was burning, it was on fire…he had to put it out!

Desperately, Jack began to claw his chest, digging his fingers deep into his skin. Some part of his subconscious told him his hoodie was gone, and so he clawed harder, searching for the flames. A warm liquid was seeping through his nails as he wailed, coughing.

"You better keep going…the fire isn't out yet." The voice warned.

Large, rough hands suddenly clutched his, stopping his work. They were stopping him – Why? Couldn't they see?! The fire was still…

"Frrr…sttpp…" Jack tried to explain, fighting weakly. He screwed his eyes shut and felt some frost burst from his hands. The larger hands quickly let go, and Jack immediately clawed at his chest again, feeling his skin tear underneath his nails. He coughed again, doubling up and curling into a ball, still trying to put out the fire.

"Stop him! Sandy!" A voice yelled, making Jack's head pound. The urgent bellows began to fade awkwardly from his hearing as he scraped against his chest harder. The fire was getting stronger…the pain was building…

"-hallucinations…stop – SANDY!"

"They are the enemies! You must leave!" The voice whispered urgently. Jack coughed, feeling a bile move up his throat. He tried get up but the hands slammed him down.

"Nnnn…st…" Jack uttered. He cracked his eyes open but only saw black. Black on all sides.

Where was he?

A sudden, excruciating pain hit his side and Jack screamed a low, pain filled scream, coughing again. Something leaked out of his mouth and he opened his eyes wider, trying to see anything, something – the darkness stubbornly stayed.

Panting, Jack struggled as the strong hands held him tight, and another voice whispered something close to his ear.

"You will be fine…I promise…calm down…please…"

Jack felt the small strength he possessed leave him and he shut his eyes again, still trying to put the fire out on his chest. The hands pinned his arms to his sides and Jack let out a wail of protest.

"They are your enemy!"

"Y…you're g-gonna…hurt-t…m-me…" Jack whispered, breathing heavily as nausea rolled in his stomach. The hands holding him relaxed, stroking his hair gently. Jack liked the touch and leaned closer, closing his eyes.

"No. Never." A deep voice reassured. Jack opened his eyes again (not that it made a difference) and turned his head towards the voice, carefully stretching out his trembling hands. His fingers pressed against smooth fabric.

"You cannot trust them!"

"Shut up…" Jack muttered, leaning against the person next to him. A warm liquid was still dripping from his aching chest, and the spirit pressed his palms against it again. Pain was tearing through his entire body and he shut his eyes, letting out a weak groan.

—

Jack was still trembling, but had calmed down considerably since he woke up.

It had been North's fault really – the machine was almost ready, and he wanted to wake up the spirit a few hours prior to see how he was doing.

Sighing, North let his hand fall against Jack's back, thankful that he was beginning to feel his fingers again; the younger guardian had attacked his hands in panic, freezing them over.

"Jack…" North muttered sadly, watching helplessly as the boy's face twisted in pain. Sweat dropped from his brow and blood stained his fingernails from where –

"What happened?"

The Cossack looked up abruptly and saw that Tooth was fluttering into the room, followed by Sandy and a limping, unsteady Easter Bunny.

"You should not be up." North ordered sternly at the Pooka, momentarily forgetting about the spirit on the sofa.

"Make me go back to bed." Bunny retorted, massaging the bandages around his stomach.

"Why did you call?" Tooth asked, bringing back the matter in hand. As if to act as a reminder, Jack let out a half-scream, curling in on himself again. His eyes were open slightly, showing a slit of cloudy white.

As one, the remaining guardians stride over to the sick spirit. Tooth ran a comforting hand through his hair. Jack coughed, shuddering and trying to claw his chest again, letting out pain-filled whimpers. With a startled shout, North pulled the spirit's hands back and pinned them to his sides. Sandy traced the raw cuts that already littered his chest with a gentle hand, frowning sadly.

"Who did tha'?!" Bunny whispered dangerously. "I swear I'll kill 'em –"

"Jack did it." North said heavily, sighing in relief as Jack seemed to calm down again slightly. The Cossack looked directly at Sandy. "It iz getting worse. We need to start treatment now!"

Sandy made a few symbols above his head, tearing his eyes away from the spirit.

"What do you mean, it won't work?" Tooth asked, eyes widening. "How can it not work! It worked before –"

"Never in all my years have I seen an infection this bad." Sandy signed sadly.

"Ya fixed me." Bunny growled. "We can at least try." Jack let out another pained cry, his breaths becoming more laboured. "I can't…" The Pooka shook his head, swallowing thickly. "No one ever deserves this, not even Jack Frost."

Sandy still looked uncertain.

"Please." Tooth asked, staring at the spirit. "We could try."

Sandy let out a silent sigh, nodding.

"I need to examine him. We can't let him fall asleep again, that's certain."

North shook the spirit's shoulder slightly and Jack opened his eyes wider, his eyes still white and clouded.

"Jack?" North whispered. The spirit didn't respond, panting heavily as more sweat dropped from his brow.

"Hurts…" he muttered, his word ending in a whine. Sandy wasted no time and began his examination. First he examined the infected area again (much easier to see now that the hoodie had been taken off) and pressed his fingers against the angry nightmare sand beneath his skin. At the touch Jack recoiled, screaming and arching his back.

The sandman withdrew his fingers quickly, eyes darkening in grief. Before he could turn back to the other guardians, Jack spoke, his voice dry and cracked with pain.

"Who…who w-was that?" He asked, coughing after his words. The spirit was staring at the ceiling blankly, a small trickle of black liquid running from the edge of his mouth.

The remaining guardians looked at each other in confusion and worry. North spoke first.

"That was Sandy…" The Cossack said. He studied Jack in concern.

"Jack…he was right next to you." Tooth says gently, placing his hand on his shoulder. The spirit jumped slightly at the touch, eyes widening.

"I…I can't…I can't see." Jack whispered, his breaths becoming shallower. "I…can't…see…"

Silence descended in the room as Jack let his eyes close again, curling back on his side to try and ease the merciless pain. The remaining guardians looked at each other, their eyes displaying a range of emotions.

"It is too late." Sandy signed, eyes darkened and grief stricken. "It is too late for him."

"What now?" Tooth whispered. Sandy looked down at the ground.

"If we treat him now, the strain will most likely kill him."

"What if we don't treat him." Bunny asked. "Wha' happens then?" The Pooka looked over at the dying spirit with an unreadable expression. "If we could think of somethin' else, another way –"

"The next time he wakes up he will no longer be Jack Frost." Sandy interrupted, shaking his head. "He will be a danger to us all – a puppet that's only purpose is to destroy."

"If we could just try an'-"

"No." Sandy created a big 'X' above his head. "We have two choices now. We either continue with the treatment, though it would most likely end in a painful death for Jack."

"The other?" North asked, clenching his fist at the news to come. Tooth was still staring at Jack and Bunny was pacing around the room.

"We have to kill Jack Frost."

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