Part Three: Dark and Cold

or 'the one where Jamie and Jack are finally reunited and also Jamie dies'

(the finale)

The deterioration of his body wasn't fast, but it sure felt like it. He knew that it took a while for the disease to slowly work its way through one's body, but it had felt like everything had given up at once. There was some pain here and there, arthritis in one finger, a slight pain in a knee, but now he was in the hospital when only last week he'd been easily making his way down the aisles of the local grocery store with nothing more than his cane.

It'd been a long time since he'd felt the touch of another human, having lost his wife and children several years before. Any other person would've died long ago as few made it to triple digits and yet here he still was, breathing (or struggling to breath) and with a heart that still beat (though it felt as though there was more and more distance between each). Sophie's at his side, almost triple digits herself and just as alone, having lost her husband the summer prior. When his youngest had died, she'd wanted him to move in with her and her husband, but Jamie preferred being alone, it was better than being pitied.

The hospital bed isn't the most comfortable, but at this point he doesn't really care. He can barely feel much, but there's a soft warmth radiating from Sophie's hand as she wipes away a stray tear from beneath his eye. Jamie hadn't even realized he'd begun to cry.

"Your skin's cold," she says softly. It's only three words, but she can't keep her voice from cracking.

"It happens when you're old," Jamie smiles in response, doing his best to keep the tension light. His sister's face is worn around the edges, with wrinkles here and there. Purple skin danced beneath her eyes, unable to be masked by a dash of mascara or cover-up. She was just as tired as he was, but he was glad to see her still holding on.

Good, he thinks, Please keep going. He knows it'll be tough once he's gone, because then she'll have no one left for she hadn't had any children, and Jamie's grandkids were out of state and Sophie refused to move out of the old home she'd shared with her husband.

"Why was it like this?" Sophie's question pulls him from his thoughts. She picks herself up from the chair the staff had placed beside his bed and moves to sit beside him on the mattress. Like everything else in the room, the bed smells heavy of bleach and lemon pledge. The bed barely squeaks as she settles next to him, she's too light to make much of a sound. Above them the fluorescent light gives a shudder, and blink, once then twice. The light dims a little, but doesn't go out. Jamie glances out the window beside his bed, through the cataracts he can barely make out a soft snow. "Why us? What did we ever do to deserve to live this long?"

"What do you mean?" Jamie asks, though he needn't bother. He knew what she meant. People weren't meant to live as long as they had. To outlive one's loved ones, especially one's children was devastating. If it hadn't been for Sophie, Jamie was sure he would've been praying for death.

Sophie responds anyway, if only to fill the silence. "My husband," she whispers, "your children, your wife." Her mouth moves as if to say more, but the sound stops coming. Her shoulders shudder sharply, and Jamie can't help himself as he tries to reach out for her arm. But there's no connection between his limbs and the mental command. His hand lies there on his chest, lifeless and unmoving. Certain areas of his body could feel, but very little responded to him now.

"I know you're tired, Jamie," Sophie continues, her attention on the bedspread below her. He tries to meet her eye, but she refuses to look at him. He can tell she's embarrassed to voice her concerns, but she continues nonetheless. "I know it's selfish, Jamie, but I'm scared to be alone."

"No," he replies hoarsely. It takes a lot of energy to even get his tongue to form the words. He wants to say more, so much more, but he's tired. There's black spots in his vision that are growing bigger with each blink. The ringing in his ears is growing louder, drowning out whatever Sophie's is trying to say. He can barely make her out now, but he can see her mouth is moving.

Jamie. Jamie! JAMIE!

His mind is fading, all thoughts flowing together. He's tired, so tired. Exhaustion has claimed his body, his heart, his mind. His eyelid's are so heavy that he can no longer even keep them open.

Jamie awakens to the sound of the machinery around him flatlining, but he ignores it. His thoughts are a jumbled mess and he can't seem to remember where he is, all he knows is that he's warm. The room has grown even dimmer, as if someone had flipped a switch while he'd slept. Through the window (which are suddenly much clearer? Had someone been in to clean them? Were they dirty? He couldn't remember) he can see that time has passed, possibly hours, and that he is alone. It's pitch-black outside and the flurry that had been falling earlier, had stopped leaving barely a trace.

It was still too early to snow, wasn't it? Jamie couldn't help but wonder. When he'd spoken to the nurse that morning, she'd mentioned it was sometime mid-October though Jamie couldn't remember the actual date.

Jamie is struck by how warm he feels. Even in the dim light from the bulbs above him (note to self, he couldn't help but think, he'd have to mention that to his nurse when she came in next), there was something comforting and warm about the room around him. Sophie was gone and yet it felt as though someone was still here, though he couldn't see anyone.

"Hello?" Jamie calls out into the empty room. Usually the nurse left the door to his room open so that if he needed something he could could call out or make eye contact with passing staff, as his fingers were unable to reach the button on his bed usually used to ring for aid.

"HELLO?" Jamie calls again, surprised by the strength behind his voice. It'd been so long since he'd been able to speak so loudly. "Is anyone there?" But there's nothing, not even the usual murmur of staff talking and moving just outside his room's walls.

"Please, anyone?"

Beside his bedside, the old radio crackles to life. The hospital he'd been checked into was technologically advanced, but he'd brought the radio from home. It'd been his father's, still utilized in his childhood home as well the home he'd shared with his wife and children years ago despite the creation of iPhones and other such gadgets. There was something comforting about the old radio, something about it that made him feel young. As he took in the machine he couldn't help but feel thankful for the many times he caught his wife about to throw the old thing out.

"Hello?"

The radio's knob seems to turn on its own. Jamie knows he should be afraid, but he's not. The feeling in the room is still warm, comforting and familiar. Though he'd never truly believed in ghosts, he supposed he'd be open to whatever being was in his room now. He can clearly see from his place on the bed that the thing is still unplugged (as it had been since the staff he begun to connect him to more and more machines as his condition worsened and they needed more outlets), but there's no fear there. Jamie welcomes the change of pace, the familiar sound of static as the radio jumps from station to station on its own.

After a few minutes of jumping, the radio settles on a station. The music it plays is cherry and familiar, the usual tunes played during the Christmas season. It's much too early for Christmas songs to be on the radio as it's mid-October after all, but there's something about the songs that feels right. Jamie smiles as one song bleeds into the next. What a friendly ghost, he can't help but think and almost laughs at the thought. Band-Aid's 'Do They Know It's Christmas Time' blends into an old favorite of his, Nat King Cole's 'The Christmas Song' and Jamie find himself humming along.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
Jack Frost nipping at your nose ~

With his attention on the radio, Jamie turns away from the window. Absorbed in the song, he doesn't notice the soft sound of frost as it spreads across the window, moving across the panes and forming beautiful, abstract pictures.

What a talented ghost, he probably would've thought, if he'd turned back and saw.

Nat King Cole's song finishes and Jamie' sad to hear it end. It's strange that the station seems to have no DJ or ad breaks, but it doesn't bother him. He feels weird, the radio is strange, nothing about this was normal at all and for the first time Jamie wonders if he's dreaming. That would explain the strange happenings as well as his sudden vision and the lack of pain in his limbs.

'Jamie?'

The voice is deeper and more masculine than Sophie's. Familiar but he's unable to place it. Everyone at the staff called him but his full name James and others preferred Mr. Bennett, nobody other than Sophie referred to him as Jamie.

'Can you hear me? It's been a while, hasn't it?'

If it wasn't a dream then perhaps he was going insane. He was pretty old after all, it wouldn't be impossible for him to be losing it. In all honesty, he was surprised he'd held it together so long. Surely he should've been seeing some hallucinations by now.

'Jamie.'

"Whose there?"

The radio goes quiet and there's a noise similar to that of kernels popping in the microwave coming from the window. Jamie rolls over and takes in the window's imagery with his mouth slightly agape. The frost is cracking, breaking off into small pieces until the art that had once been there is unrecognizable.

'Jamie, can you hear me now?'

The voice is close, not in his ear but close enough that Jamie can hear it very clearly.

"Who are you?"

'It's me,' the voice replies and at the same time Jamie feels a dip in the mattress beside him as if someone were sitting next to him. 'You can't seem me unless you remember who I am and what we've been through.'

"Can you give me a hint?"

There's a chuckle and then the sound of the radio switching stations again. Nat King Cole's voice pumps through the radio's speakers, repeating the same line over and over like a scratched CD skipping:

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
Jack Frost nipping at your nose ~

And then as if a switch inside of him had been switched, the memories return, slowly at first, filling in empty spots of memory like a child coloring in a page of a picture book.

Jamie's visions swims before him. The lights dim and then brighten and dim again as the appearance of a young man with white hair and a sad smile come into view.

"Do you remember now, Jamie?"

The older man nods, the smile on his face mirroring that on the face of his old friend.

Jamie shivers as if he could feel the melted slush on his back he flew through the air and landed into the snowbank. He remembered the fear and the tight feelings in his chest when he'd first caught sight of Pitch Black . The memories resurfaced so strongly that Jamie couldn't believe he'd ever forgotten them.

His tone teasing, Jamie replies, "Everyone's got to grow up sometime, Jack ."

"It's good to see you again," replies the winter spirit, a gust of cool air filling the area as he speaks. "I was worried you'd forgotten me for good."

Jamie shrugs, and then adds, "Well, you've got good timing." He motions to the monitors attached to his body, the surfaces of their screens covered with frost at Jack's arrival, "A couple days later and you would've missed me."

Jack's smile melts into a frown. "Jamie." Though he only says a single word, his tone speaks volumes. Jamie takes a good look at the monsters. The frost is thin enough that he can still make out the glowing line. He gulps as he notes that it's no longer moving and is instead straight.

"Well," Jamie says softly, "Everyone's got to go sometime."

The look on Jack's face is heartbreaking. The winter spirit is close to tears and if his heart were still beating, Jamie's sure he would've felt it clench.

"No, Jamie! I just - I, please, you can't go. You're a kid, my kid, and it's my duty to protect you."

Jamie can't help but laugh dryly at that. "From Pitch, remember? And you did that. Besides that, I'm an adult, Jack. I'm an old man and ... " He trails off for a minute as he motions to the surrounding monitors, "I'm dead! It happens, that's how life works! What were you hoping to happen? That I'd remember at the last minute and somehow stop myself from dying? That by appearing as I died you could somehow reverse the process? I know you're a powerful spirit, Jack, but I'm pretty sure you can't do anything to stop this."

Jack's face falls. Having raised a son himself, he can see that Jack's stubborn and wants to fight. Though he was no longer attached to his body, Jamie can't help but feel old and tired in that moment. Jack may be centuries older than him, but Jamie had matured much faster.

"Jamie, listen! You can't die! There's nothing left, nothing after this! If I could become a spirit, surely you can too?"

The warm, comforting feeling Jamie had felt upon first waking up is long gone now. The room had grown cold, again and the air was thick with tension. Jack was smart, Jamie knew that. Surely he could understand that not everyone had the second chance that Jack was given and Jamie was okay with that. Though it'd been so long since they'd last spoke face-to-face, Jamie could feel a familiar sense of love bubbling up in his chest. The same sort of love he felt for Sophie. The fear in Jack's face was similar to that his younger sister. He was afraid to be alone. He was afraid of change and of things he could not predict or control.

"There are other children out there, Jack, and they need you just as badly as I did."

Jack's voice catches and Jamie can't help but feel surprised. The last time he's seen Jack, Jamie had been a little boy and Jack had been this older brother figure - strong, safe, and protective, but now places were reverse and it was Jack that needed comforting.

"I doesn't want to lose you, Jamie. Why - why do you think I've tried so hard to keep you around?"

"That was you?"

Jack nods and replies softly, "I'm sorry. I know it's been hard but I couldn't help myself ..." He trails off for a moment and then adds almost sheepishly, "And uh, doesn't tell Sophie, but neither could Bunnymund."

"Well, I don't think he has much to worry about," Jamie chuckles kindly, "I don't think I'll be able to talk with her again for quite a while."

The joke is dark, but Jamie says it anyway. He'll miss Sophie and even if Jack was right and there was nothing after this, he's sure they'd be able to connect in some other way, whether it be as ghosts or spirits or something else. The rooms is even colder and that Jamie had first thought this was because of Jack's appearance, he was beginning to wonder if it was something else. He no longer felt confined within the hospital room, nor connect to the Earth. It felt as though he was fading and from the look on Jack's face (a face full of shock, fear, and mourning), perhaps he was physically fading as well.

"Jack," Jamie says, "I don't where I am going or what comes after this, but you've been with me my whole life long even after I forgot and you watched over me. We may not be able to talk after this or see one another, but I'm with you and you're with me. Even if you forgot, I'll be there, I promise in some way or some form even if it's a sense of comfort or a distant memory."

Before he could respond, Jamie could feel his eyes growing heavy again and body tired. The world swam before his vision and Jack had begun to disappear from his vision. The last image he could see was Jack pale's hand reaching out for him in a sea of spots of black in the corner of his vision as the darkness overtook him once again.