Summary:
Jack hadn't seen Jamie in years – ever since the other Burgess kids stopped believing he didn't want to see his first believer drift away. His trust was damaged as reality faced him, so he didn't talk to children anymore, preferring not to experience more loss that would happen.
However, he didn't predict getting hurt and then badgered by a child that he was slowly beginning to like.
In this, it has been thirty years since the battle with Pitch Black.
I don't own rotg...
Jack stumbled and fell, cursing as his ankle twinged with pain. He wasn't in a hurry to get up, with his many cuts, bruises and broken bones, so he settled on lying in the crisp leaves, letting his eyes close as he thought of a plan.
It really wasn't his idea to be trapped out in the open, flightless, but during that really stupid – and unfair might he add – attack it slipped from his hands.
And it was summer. Just great.
He could already feel himself growing warmer and he really wanted to hide in a cave until winter, but then he wouldn't be able to see the other guardians until then, and let's face it, he'd get too lonely. So he was looking for his staff, still not completely sure where he was, slowly bleeding out on the ground.
Just great. And to think he was going to pet some reindeer.
Jack bit his lip as pain ripped through his abdomen, digging his nails into the dirt. With a grunt, he curled up on his side, pressing his palm onto the wound. He could feel blood pulse under his fingers and he winced.
"Maybe this wasn't a good idea…" Jack was mildly concerned about how faint and raw his voice sounded. He almost laughed at the fact that he almost sounded old for once, but a rustling caught his attention (or what attention he had left) and he instinctively tried to get up from his pitiful position. The spirit managed to surprisingly get to his feet, swaying, and took a few hesitant steps forward and into the trees.
However, his luck was short lived. Ungracefully, he fell back onto the ground, collapsing against a tree.
Deciding it was better to stay put than try and get up again, Jack dragged himself behind the tree, hissing as the burns on his arms brushed against the bark.
"Daddy!" A child's high voice cut through the woodland, and a moment later a freckles face emerged from where the rustling had previously been.
Jack scowled, letting out a short chuckle at his stupidity. Of course it had to be a child he was running away from.
That was just the Jack Frost way.
The spirit let himself relax, leaning against the trunk, a small smile crossing his lips. Blood dribbled from his hairline and down his neck, making it itch.
He closed his eyes again, ignoring the child, cursing as sunlight hit his eyelids. He really should get going soon unless he wanted to be a puddle of –
"Hello? Sir?"
Jack's eyes snapped open and he looked up, startled. He was met with large brown eyes.
The girl that had called out before was now staring at him, blinking owlishly – no not staring at him, it must be something else.
He sighed, panting as the heat began to take its toll, and his fevered mind taking too long to conjure up an answer, so he just groaned.
"Sir? Are you okay?" The girl asked again, and Jack tilted his head.
Was a child really seeing him? She certainly seemed to see him because she was still looking at him.
"Just peachy." Jack murmured, closing his eyes again. Okay, he knew it was summer but this heat was ridiculous.
He pulled his hand from his side wound, frowning at the blood coating his hand. He looked back up at the child briefly, who was staring wide eyed at the red.
Muttering a curse, Jack hastily hid his hand in his hoodie. He smiled sheepishly, closing his eyes again.
"Ignore that."
Jack thought the child had gone, but a small hand shook his shoulder.
"What?" Jack opened his eyes again, and saw the girl had moved closer to him.
"Can you help me?" She asked quietly. Jack saw her eyes brim with tears and sighed. He wasn't sure if he could get up, but he might as well hear what she had to say. It wasn't like he was going to stay long.
"What do you need?" He looked at the girl lazily, wincing as his burns began to throb. His sideways worse, but nothing he hadn't felt before. But then again, before he had never been dropped from the sky on a summer's day with only a child for company.
"I'm lost." The girl's bottom lip trembled. "And I don't know what to do…"
"Join the club kid." Jack muttered, looking around the woods. They did look simple, which is probably how the girl got lost. Too many identical trees.
The girl was still standing next to him, unsure, so Jack sat more upright, wincing.
"Where did you come from?" The spirit asked louder, watching the girl think. She was what – five years old? Why was she in these damn woods in the first place?
"Err…I don't know…" she sniffed. "I was following a rabbit and I don't know the way back home…" she started to cry, and Jack hushed her. Something about her reminded him of something, but he couldn't place his finger on what.
"It's okay, you're going to be just fine."
I can't say that about myself, Jack thought grimly as his vision doubled. Through the hazy eyesight he saw the girl bite her lip. His eyes softened. "You have to believe in me."
The girl looked up at him and nodded shyly, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.
"Wind?" Jack's voice was a whimper again, and his throat felt like sandpaper. In response, the wind blew gently around him and for a moment he closed his eyes, relishing in the slightly colder air. "Could you tell me where the nearest town is?" The wind tugged north, scattering leaves. Jack felt himself smile.
"I'll get you home, don't worry." Jack reassured the child, shifting his legs weakly. He was regretting having to get up until the girl smiled, giggling in excitement. She sprang up from her slouch, laughing.
"Hold on…" Jack's chuckle turned into an exhausted groan as his side flared with pain as he tried to move.
Staying on the ground sounded really tempting at this point.
"Are you okay?" The girl asked again, moving closer towards him. Jack couldn't answer but gave her a weak smile.
Muttering another curse, Jack heaved himself to his feet, using the bark as a support. With a pang, he remembered his staff, but decided to look for it later – it could be anywhere now.
The spirit's vision swam and his legs shook as he stood, and he had to wait a few minutes to pull himself together. The heat was burning onto his back, melting all the last remains of frost clinging onto his hoodie.
The wind blew gently around him again, tugging him in the right direction in encouragement. The girl was watching him, twisting her brown hair.
"Come on, let's go." He whispered, gesturing forward with his hand. The girl skipped forward. The weight of being lost forever had been lifted from her shoulders, and now she was much more confident and active.
"I'm Natalie!" She introduced herself, proudly pointing at her chest. Jack gave a weak smile.
"I'm Jack Frost." He replied, stumbling. The girl gasped, eyes widening.
"Jack Frost!" She giggled. "My Daddy told me about you! You make snow, right! He said that you create cool snow slides and huge snowmen and pretty snowflakes and…" Jack zoned out of the conversation, feeling himself grow weaker with each passing step. His breaths were now sounding like pathetic wheezes, and he cursed his stupidly caring nature when it came to children. He thought he learnt his lesson, but obviously he was wrong.
They really weren't that far from civilisation, he thought as the girl babbled on about picnics and rabbits, but still quite far away. He could see some unnatural colours through the trees, and hear cars rumbling in the distance.
"Just…over…there…" Jack gasped, pointing ahead. Apparently his body took that as a queue to give up.
He collapsed, landing hard on the ground, and he groaned quietly. He could feel the blood spreading over his hoodie and he mentally sighed. The girl might've ran over to him, he wasn't sure, but he did hear something about "help" and "Daddy" and he suddenly wanted to know what made the dad such a fucking genius to be able to help a winter spirit trapped in the sun.
This time, no one interrupted when he closed his eyes and he let himself smile briefly before the pain got too much for him to bare.
His last thoughts was how much he hated summer spirits.
Tell me what you think (if you can) because I really don't know what I'm doing anymore.
Hope you like, sorry about grammar and stuff but I don't read back on my work