EDITED 3/22/16 – Removed some typos, cleaned up some wording. I really wish at-death's-door Jack wasn't so much fun to write…
Naming this chapter after Isolfr was a bit of a stretch. But my followers on tumblr were so enthusiastic about a possible cameo from this sassy wolf, it seemed appropriate.
Chapter 13: Isolfr
"The strange weather patterns persist," the weatherman said, looking more than a little stressed. "Since this storm came out of nowhere, we have no indication of how long it will last."
"I may not be a meteorologist, but even I know that storms don't come out of nowhere," one of the anchors said, her tone chastising.
Astrid rolled her eyes. The anchor must be new to Burgess if she expected an explanation for a weather phenomenon. Especially for a snow storm.
Not that it had actually started to snow yet. Which seemed strange, considering it had been almost twenty-four hours since the clouds had started to gather. Astrid might not know much about weather, but even she suspected that wasn't normal.
As it was, she hoped the lack of snow was a good sign.
The others hadn't seemed too concerned about Jack's errand. They acted as if it was more of an annoyance than anything.
Maybe it was just because she was new to this world of superheroes, and watching her friends go off into fights. But there was a feeling of unease she couldn't seem to shake. Which was part of why she had turned the news on as soon as she had gotten back to her apartment.
The weatherman looked as though he wanted to say something to the anchor. But stopped himself just in time.
"So far the storm hasn't moved from over the county – it remains centered near the harbor," he went on, as though he hadn't been interrupted. "By all indications, it should have started to snow by now, but there's been almost no change. All we can do it wait it out."
"But that doesn't make sense," the anchor said. Clearly she wasn't willing to let it go. "There must be an explanation."
The weatherman looked at the camera with glassy eyes. "I don't know, Rachel. Maybe we're doomed."
Astrid snorted, barely biting back a laugh as the camera showed Rachel's startled expression. Though the other two anchors seemed just as entertained by the whole thing as. (Rachel much not be popular down at the station.)
After an awkward moment, they transitioned into a story about one of the local high schools. Astrid lost interest, and turned her attention to her homework.
Worry made it hard to focus, though. Not that she was good at focusing, even on her best days. Not on her homework, anyway.
She wasn't used to worrying about people, which made it all the more difficult. Well, she worried about Anders. But that was different. That she could relegate to a background of her mind. And she didn't know when he was going into a dangerous situation. Now she was hyper aware of it.
Eventually she reached – if not a level of concentration – a rhythm that kept her attention on work, rather than worry.
Until the flash of lightning caused her head to jerk up.
Out of habit, she counted seconds. Something she had done since she was a child.
Seven seconds later the crack of thunder rolled over the city. The sound waves vibrated through her sternum. Rattling her to her core.
Seven miles.
The storm was barely seven miles from her apartment.
When she looked back to the TV, she expected them to cut to live footage of a fight. If lightning was striking downtown, something news worthy had to be going on there. A change in the weather had to mean a change in the situation.
Instead, they cut to the weatherman, who was considerably more confident this time around.
"What we're experiencing is a winter thunderstorm – or thunder snow, as some call it. It's rare, but not unheard of. And hardly unique to Burgess. In our area, it's caused by cold air passing over relatively warm water, pushing upward—"
Astrid rolled her eyes, not bothering to pay attention to his explanation about cloud levels, temperature, and wind pressure. If she had the patience for that, she wouldn't be a phys-ed major.
Just as she was about to try and get back to homework, Rachel cut the weatherman off. (If she got any pleasure out of doing so, it didn't show.)
"Sorry, Steve, but we've just received word that Jack Frost, of the Big 4, is currently involved in a fight down on the harbor steps. We take you now to where Roxanne Ritchie is live on the scene."
For a moment, Astrid felt smug that she had been right. Only for a moment. Before she registered what was happening on the screen.
The camera was on the reporter, too far from the fight happening behind her to really make out what was happening. But that was still what Astrid's attention fixed on.
The figure that was constantly moving had to be Jack. One moment he was running, the next he slid across a slick of ice like a baseball player sliding home. He was back on his feet in less time than it took her heart to beat. All while dodging sprays of ice, without missing a beat. As easily as if he were showing off in the Haddock kitchen.
Elsa – at least, Astrid guessed his opponent was Elsa – lacked any of Jack's quick fluidity. She barely moved at all, save twisting to aim her blows at her ever-moving target. But she had a kind of desperate aggression that was making up for her obvious lack of skill.
"According to eye witnesses, less than ten minutes ago Jack Frost crashed through the penthouse window of the Arendelle Tower," Roxanne was saying. "His opponent is believed to be reclusive heiress Elsa Arendelle. So far this is no indication as to what the fight is about, though—"
The reporter let out a cry of surprise as Elsa slipped on the ice covered ground, and her aim was thrown wide – heading right towards the reporter. Astrid gasped. But the sound barely left her throat before Jack appeared between Roxanne and the spray of ice. His hands shot out to catch it, and Astrid saw him grimace as he wrested mental control of the ice. He shoved at the air, and the ice was thrown out over the lake. It dissipated without causing any harm.
It was easy to see that Jack was on the defense – his movements evasive.
"What are you doing?" Astrid whispered, leaning forward on the couch. In the past few days, she had watched enough footage of the Big 4 to know that this wasn't his usual style. Usually, he was the most aggressive of the 4 (except for maybe Toothless, but that was a different category all together). So why was he all but running now?
Elsa took a step forward, and faltered.
Maybe that was Jack's plan: to wear her out.
Astrid exhaled in frustration as she leaned back, unable to tear her eyes from the screen. Her foot twitched, tapping an agitated tattoo in the air.
This was why she hated spectator sports. Energy built up in her system as her brain told that she should be doing something. Not just sitting on the couch, squeezing the TV remote until her knuckles turned white.
Where were the others?
Right. They were all in class.
The attacks were slowing. Elsa was stating to struggle to create the blasts. The way her shoulders were hunched, she was probably breathing hard.
Good.
The next blast didn't even deserve the name. A small flurry of ice shimmering in the air, but falling short of Jack. Elsa tried to take a step, but her body swayed dangerously.
When she didn't recover after a couple seconds, Jack took a careful step towards her. As if approaching an injured animal. Elsa looked over at him, hands clenched over her chest, but didn't respond.
He took a few more steps. Holdings his hands up, palm out.
A few more steps.
Elsa tried to back away. But she swayed again, and this time fell to her knees on the ice. Almost immediately, the slushy snow falling around them stopped, and the hazy fog started to thin.
Another step.
A hand held out.
Jack said something, but he was still too far for the camera to pick up more than the timbre of his voice.
For a second, it looked as though Elsa would accept his help. Astrid exhaled, relaxing as she inhaled fresh oxygen. Maybe this would be over in a matter of minutes, and all her worry had been wasted.
For a single, life changing second.
It happened so fast, she could barely register what had happened.
Elsa screamed. Flung her hands out again. And this time, the blast hit Jack square in the chest. The force knocked him off his feet.
He hit the ground hard enough to make Astrid's stomach clench in sympathy. And he was now close enough to the camera that when he spat, she saw the blood hit the ice. Saw his expression twist with anger. Glaring at Elsa as he wiped blood from his chin.
Whatever had held him back before was now gone.
He looked at the blood on the back of his glove for a moment.
In a lightning fast motion he twisted his hand, slamming his palm towards Elsa.
Her arms flew up to cover her face as the spray of hoar frost pushed her backwards across the ice on her knees.
When it passed, she shook off the frost that clung to her hair, and her dark purple skirt suit. Other than that, it didn't seem to have any affect.
Slowly she stood up, kicking off a pair of stiletto heels as she did so. No wonder she had stumbled.
Jack was back on his feet first. Right hand already glowing at his side as he lunged towards Elsa.
Her arms flew up again – this time with a very different affect. Spikes of ice jutted up from the ground in a barricade around the young woman.
One of them piercing right through Jack's stomach.
#
Surprise did a pretty good job of dulling the pain. For the first few seconds, at least. Until his brain registered that he had just been impaled. That was when the pain blossomed in his side. Building up in intensity as his nerves found their voices and started screaming.
Hot.
He was always surprised by how hot his blood ran. If his body was so cold, shouldn't his blood be cold, too? It didn't make sense, no matter how he tried to figure out.
Of course, he usually only tried to figure it out at moments like this. When he had more important things to worry about.
Like the fact he didn't have much time before he bled out.
Elsa stared as he stepped back, off the ice spike. Her eyes wide with horror.
Jack pressed a hand to his side. Trying to staunch the blood that flowed through his fingers. He was going to need new gloves. Probably a new jacket. Hiccup and Rapunzel wouldn't be happy about that. Not when they were both so busy with so many projects.
Oh. He was supposed to pick up chocolate chips for Rapunzel. That might be a little difficult…
Strange the things you thought about when you were staring death in the face.
Or maybe he was trying to avoid its gaze.
Priorities.
Not that he had ever been good at those.
Staunching the blood wouldn't do much good. Not when he could feel it running down from the hole in his back as fast as it did from his front.
His other hand clenched on the ice. Bracing him up. When had he fallen back to the ground?
Breathing was hard. Thinking hurt.
No. Wait. Other way around. Breathing hurt. Thinking was hard.
Actually, thinking kind of hurt too…
His brain kept trying to focus on the fact he had been stabbed. Repeating the fact again, and again, and again, like a neon marquee circling around his brain. When what he wanted his brain to do was analyze the situation. To figure out the best way out.
Sirens.
The sirens cut through every other thought cluttering his mind. Stark. Annoying. The last thing he needed at that moment.
Typical.
Now that they weren't moving, throwing ice around, the police on the scene were shouting at each other as they closed in. Commanding people to step back from the barricade. Or for Jack and Elsa to stand down and surrender. Or something equally ridiculous. Jack was probably glad he couldn't make out the words.
But he could make out the fear in Elsa's expression as she turned towards the approaching police. Because he knew what happened when Elsa was afraid. So his brain knew that was something worth paying attention to. Which was why he saw clearly her hand rise, trembling, as if in slow motion.
Saw the glow of her powers.
Why couldn't the police stay out of things they should know they couldn't handle?
"No." It came out as a hoarse whisper.
Too late anyway.
His heart sank as snow swirled in front of her. Expending as it took shape and solidified.
"No," he repeated. Not sure if it was at her, or himself. Trying to stop himself from doing something stupid.
Either way, he was too late.
Again.
His hand had already clenched. Some part of his brain giving commands he hadn't consciously authorized. He watched the frost fly across the space between them. Twisting and turning, taking shape as it flew towards Elsa and the snow creature she was creating. Until Jack was watching a wolf run across the ice.
Well, there went his last reserves of energy.
His arm trembled, all his energy pulled into keeping the wolf animated as it ran around Elsa's creature. Drawing its attention away from the police and bystanders it had been lumbering towards.
His arm gave out. Even as he hit the ground, his eyes stayed fixed on the wolf.
Isolfr, as Rapunzel had named it. One night when they were all too tired to think straight, but too wound up to sleep. She had declared the wolf needed a name, and chosen Isolfr.
It had stuck.
He forced himself to keep his eyes open. Trained on the fight. Isolfr moved only by mental command – commands that took all his focus. Which was hard enough when blood loss wasn't making him dizzy.
He must have gotten a cut on his forehead without noticing, because he felt hot liquid running down the side of his face.
Isolfr dodged the creature's bludgeon like fists as the thing tried to crush him.
There were advantages to fighting a snow monster, though. Since it wasn't alive, the team's "no kill policy" didn't apply. So Jack didn't have to hold back.
As soon as there was an opening, Isolfr jumped up and sank his fangs into the monster's throat. Teeth and claws went to work, biting and scratching away chunks of snow. Within moments, an arm fell to the ground and became nothing but a pile of snow.
The head soon followed.
Just like Isolfr, the creature was controlled by thought. Even without its head, its remaining arm continued trying to swipe at Isolfr. But the wolf had Jack's agility, jumping onto the creature's back and going to work at the remaining shoulder.
Elsa screamed in frustration as the second arm fell.
Isolfr jumped down even as Elsa let go of her mental hold on the creature and it fell apart. The wolf lunged towards Elsa. She sent a flurry towards the wolf. Who just dodged, and kept running towards her.
Even as he directed the wolf, a stray thought asked what exactly he was going to do with her. He was in no situation to detain her, and there were too many cops… everywhere. In a voice that sounded obnoxiously like Merida's, his own brain informed him that he really hadn't thought this through. (He really hated that this was a regular occurrence.)
While he tried to process – to find a way out – his thoughts were cut off by the roar of an engine, harmonized by a chorus of screams.
What now?
He looked back over his shoulder in time to watch a cluster of bystanders jump out of the way of a black motorcycle. The rider didn't slow at the police barricade, kicking aside one of the partitions as she passed it. Then came to a screaming stop in front of him.
"Get on!" she said, loud enough to be heard through the helmet that covered her face.
She held a gloved hand out to help him.
Oh, she was going to fit right in.
Jack reached out and grabbed her hand. As she hauled him onto the back of the motorcycle, he helped as much as his trembling legs would allow. He had just enough sense to press a hand over the bike license plate, frosting it to obscure the numbers.
"Go!"
Astrid gave a jerking nod and took off the way she had come. Past people that exclaimed indignantly as they jumped out of the way. Swinging between two cop cars that tried to cut them off.
As soon as they turned down the next street, Jack tapped her shoulder and pointed up to the one, two… three different helicopters. Two news, one police.
Losing them was just as important as losing the police that would be on their tail in a matter of seconds. He pointed again, this time to their right, down the next ally. She turned just in time. Causing several car horns to blast as they cut through oncoming traffic.
To her credit, Astrid didn't hesitate. Jack continued to point down side streets, guiding them in a circumvent route around the fringes of downtown. Trying to keep his thoughts straight. To focus on the layout of the city, rather than to calculate how much blood he had already lost. How much time he had.
They were almost halfway to the garage when they finally lost the third chopper.
The police were long gone.
He exhaled in relief when they came in sight of the alley that ran behind Gobber's shop. Or rather, behind the shed at the back of Gobber's lot. Just as he pointed down the alley, the last of his strength gave out, and he sagged against Astrid's back.
He was slipping in and out of consciousness. It felt as though minutes passed before Astrid pulled to a stop, though he knew it could only have been seconds. Then he was vaguely aware of being hauled off the bike by a pair of strong arms.
"Let's get him inside," Eret said. His voice was distant, though Jack knew he had to be close. There were only a few people in their circle who could carry him that easily.
"How—" Astrid started.
"I saw the news," Eret said. "Close the door."
Jack was vaguely aware of the temperature around him growing warmer as they stepped into what he knew (rather than saw) was the backroom of Gobber's shed.
"We—" He grunted in pain as his injuries were jarred. "We've gotta stop meeting like this, Eretson."
"Bleeding out, and you've still got that smart mouth. At least there's no carpet for you to bleed on. I still don't know how I'll explain that to my landlord."
Jack snickered. Or at least, tried to. He had never realized that a snicker contracted his stomach muscles. Not until a flash of pain shot through his abdomen. "Ow."
Blackness was spreading across his brain, blurring out the few, fragmented thoughts that still hung around.
"Sorry for the carpet," he murmured. He couldn't remember if he had ever apologized for that… It had been… What? Two years, almost? If he hadn't apologized, there was something wrong with him. His mind's eye filled with the image of the bloodstain on the carpet in Eret's apartment. Where he had collapsed just inside the door.
"You can make it up to me by staying alive until Rapunzel gets here."
"She's in her pottery class," Jack said, coughing. His mouth filled with the metallic taste of yet more blood. He coughed again, spitting blood onto the concrete floor.
"If you think she doesn't check her phone in class, you don't know Rapunzel," Eret countered. "Astrid, hand me those bandages."
Still, all Jack could see was that bloodstain.
Had that been worse than this?
He couldn't remember.
"Jack."
Couldn't remember…
"Jack."
…couldn't…
"Jackson."