A few hours later, North was beginning to tire: it seemed he had lost track of time while he was busy doing what he loved. Suddenly, he remembered that Jack was sat behind him and he felt terrible - he had ignored the boy for at least four hours! North turned around in his chair, expecting to either see a bored, annoyed Jack or, quite simply, no Jack at all. So he was quite surprised when he saw the Winter Spirit curled up in a ball on the large rocking chair, gently snoring to himself. Sat on the sizeable red and green chair that was filled to the brim with feather-stuffed cushions, Jack looked tiny: like a lost little boy who was no older than twelve or thirteen. He looked tired and frail and his sleek silvery hair partially covered his large eyelids.
North had never really bothered to actually look properly at Jack Frost, he didn't see the need. But, here and now, he felt like he owed it to the boy to at least know what he looked like. His eyelashes were long, thick and black, his nose was small and petite and his dark brown eyebrows, that contained specks of silver, stood out against his pale hair and even paler face. He looked cold and every part of him seemed too delicate, as if he could break with the slightest touch.
North could see the steady rise and fall of Jack's chest, up and down, up and down, in a steady, graceful rhythm that was almost hypnotic. He didn't deserve any of what he had got and North felt a twang of guilt in his stomach. How could I have left him, ignored him for so long? He must have been so lonely. With a loud, regretful sigh, North walked over to the chair Jack was on, picked up a fluffy blanket and tenderly placed it over Jack. As if he knew what North was doing, Jack curled up into an even smaller ball, cosying under the safeness of the blanket and letting out a small, happy sigh. North smiled and walked over to the door. With one last glance back at Jack, he swung the door open, walked outside and closed it with a light click.
...
North didn't know where he was going, he just thought it would be best to let Jack rest on his own. He knew that Jack didn't like being mollycoddled and he thought if he woke up to the large man staring at him he would be quite annoyed. For the first time since the Easter incident Jack looked happy. Apart from staff, Jack is completely fine! North thought happily,. Unknowingly.
Walking around the rooms in Santoff Clausen, North felt lucky, so lucky, to be able to live here everyday. He felt lucky to have great friends in the Yetis and a wonderful, caring family in the Guardians. He reflected on all the fun memories they had together, smiling to himself, before thinking about Jack. Being alone, not beloved in, ignored by everyone he met. He didn't know how he was still sane - it must have been torture. And that was just emotional, only MiM could know what he had physically been through. Though North had never experienced a child, or anyone from that matter, walk through him, he could tell it was incredibly painful just by watching Bunny at Easter. It must have happened countless times to Jack.
North ducked and half-heartedly chuckled as a mischievous elf flew past him, clinging to a make-shift alien spaceship that Santa Claus had made earlier that week. Unexpectedly, a large furry yeti ran past him, chasing after the elf, screaming "Algibabwa!". The elves were always causing trouble.
North found himself at the globe room after getting lost in his thoughts. The colossal orb hovered above him, an exact replica of the Earth. Latin inscriptions all over the Globe read the continents, countries and seas. In every country, warm bright lights flickered, each one representing a child that believed. Every now and then, a light would dissapear and another would reappear, a normal process: most children stopped believing when they got to a certain age and new children were being born all over the world, every minute of every day.
When North first became a Guardian (which was very long time ago), he had to take an oath, to swear to protect the children of the world: their hopes, their dreams and their beliefs, even if it meant sacrificing his life. Being a Guardian was what North lived for (literally) yet it was so much more than just a job. He loved seeing the joy on the children's sweet, innocent faces. He loved the wonder they created in their minds, the constant need and want for knowledge. But, more often than not, it was this thirst for knowledge and wisdom that led them to stop believing. North was powerful - he sensed every time a child stopped believing. In the beginning, it hurt. Every time one of the little lights dimmed, he thought he had done something wrong that made them stop believing, made them lose that precious innocence all the Guardians strived for. Though, in time, he realised that this way just the way of nature. He now knew that everyone lost their innocence, eventually.
Yet, Jack still had that innocence. Despite his age and some of the things he had seen and done, at heart he still possessed that rare quality. This quality shaped him, made him who he was. He saw goodness and light in everything, even if it didn't deserve it. It seemed he had no weaknesses, no fears, and he didn't let anything hold him back. If he wanted something, he would stop at nothing until he got it. Despite the decades of loneliness, he still had hope.
A cackle pulled North out of his thoughts. It was a devilish, sinister cackle and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as if saluting to the succumbing darkness. His stomach grumbled, telling him that something was wrong. North whipped around, glaring wildly into the distance. At first, he saw nothing, then some sand. Evil, black sand. It appeared on the floor in a menacing puddle, growing, bubbling, spurting wildly as if it was burning tar. Up out of its depths rose an indistinct shadow. But North knew it could only be one thing.
Pitch.
Oh dear /
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