Greetings, beautiful readers!

I know, it's been way to long, right?

I wanted this one-shot to actually be a one-shot - purely because there have already been so many arcs in this fic already. But it was starting to really drag on, so I'm going to split it up.

This fic was requested by sakura-blossoms-26 who requested: "So, I was thinking something weird happens and jack becomes like super mundo mega sick. Like, grit your teeth sick. You can take it from there lol :)" (love that description, by the way) I hope this meets your standards, my dear!

Disclaimer: IDOROTG

The Way the Cold Burns Part I

...

Just as it was beautiful, so could winter be deadly. The woman huddled in the corner of the alleyway was testimony to that. She wrapped the tattered blanket more closely around herself and the two children huddled up against her, dislodging some of the snow that had begun to settle on them. The blizzard, in its ignorance, continued to rain snow down upon them.

It certainly wouldn't be the first time that the cold had snatched away life, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But that didn't make it any easier. It was night, and Jack had thought that everyone would have been inside by now, figuring it to be the perfect time to start the blizzard. But he had forgotten that not everybody had a home to go back to.

It was his fault. And now these people were going to die because of a small detail he'd overlooked.

…Jack.

But what could he do? How could he fix this? It was like what he'd told Baby Tooth in Antarctica: he only knew how to make people cold.

The alley was now sufficiently covered in snow, and where the white flakes hadn't settled, the ground had frozen instead. If this kept up, the three in the corner weren't going to see midnight.

He had to do something. If only he were like May or Lleu – able to melt the snow…

An idea struck him. He knew from the outset it wasn't going to be a good idea, but that wasn't going to stop him.

Can you hear me?

…

His staff grasped firmly in his hands, Jack flew up through the dark clouds, not stopping until he was in the heart of the storm. It was too large to simply blow away – and even if he did, the three in the alley were unlikely to be the only homeless in the city.

The wind that usually aided him was buffeting him around, preventing him from concentrating. It was trying to stop him, he knew, but this was the right thing to do. The time for fun and games had passed. Now he needed to be responsible.

…Fever…too high…

Closing his eyes, Jack ignored the way his life-long friend was pushing him around, concentrating solely on the storm surrounding him. He could feel it, the cold that he had created. So maybe he could uncreate it.

He almost faltered when the pain struck – he was never meant to destroy the cold – but he wasn't going to give up. As the blizzard started to subside, Jack could feel a deep burning in his chest, like his core, his very soul, was on fire.

When the snowfall around him had dissipated into little more than a light sprinkling of powder, Jack allowed the wind to carry him gently back to the ground, resolutely ignoring the way he stumbled upon landing.

The woman and her children, oblivious to his presence, were staring up at the sky in amazement. Jack felt a small smirk work its way onto his face. He wasn't done yet. Setting himself down on his knees, he wiped the perspiration off his forehead with the sleeve of his jumper before placing both hands flat onto the nearest snow pile.

"Don't worry," he told them, ignoring how weak his voice had become. "I'll fix this… you'll be okay…"

This was a terrible idea. It was one thing to settle a storm, but to actually melt the snow?! He waited a moment to catch his breath, frowning as the wind pushed against him in warning and concern.

Get more snow!

He couldn't believe his eyes. The snow was actually melting! He didn't think he was actually capable of doing it! For once in his life he was glad to have been proven wrong. He hadn't been wrong about it being a terrible idea, though, if the nausea that was overcoming him was anything to go by. He was too hot. His stomach protested, threatening to return everything he'd eaten earlier. But Jack ignored it, not stopping until the alley was completely free of snow and ice.

His head felt like it was underwater. His vision was blurred and sound muffled, yet somehow he was still able to spot the man hurrying down the other side of the street; likely someone who was taking the break in the weather as an opportunity to get home.

Maybe he could get the man to help…

Getting to his feet with much more difficulty than he would have liked, Jack formed a snowball in the palm of his hand. Well, it was supposed to be a snowball, but it looked rather more like a pile of slosh. That was concerning.

Pulling back his arm, he took aim and threw the snowball with as much strength as he could muster.

It missed its mark. The snowball – or what was left of it – landed with a splat a good few metres from the man, and Jack bit back the colourful curse that threatened to escape him. He didn't think he had it in him to try again. But the man had seen, and was looking confusedly down into the dark depths of the alley.

After a moment of hesitation, the man crossed the road, stopping at the mouth of the alley.

"H-Hello?" he called uncertainly.

"P-please," Jack gasped, despite knowing full well that the man wouldn't hear him. "Help them."

A small squeak of fear from the smaller child alerted the man to their presence. "It's alright," he said calmly, holding his hands up in front of him. "I won't hurt you."

The woman hugged her children closer to her, her eyes wide with fear.

"You all must be freezing," the man continued. "Why don't you come on home with me? My wife makes a mean casserole, and she always makes more than the two of us can eat."

Jack waited with baited breath, not allowing himself to breathe again until the woman seemed to deem the man safe enough, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

They would be alright now.

With a tired smile, Jack allowed the wind to lift him up off the ground, the sudden motion very nearly costing him his lunch. His mind blinked in and out of consciousness as his world spun.

Hand me wet cloth.

…be okay?

…Jack...? …burning…

He was vaguely aware of travelling northwards – the wind seemed to be trying to take him back to the Pole. A blast of hot air. The Northern Hemisphere was in the middle of summer right now…This time he really was sick.

The air seemed to die beneath him.

He was falling… Didn't even have the energy to scream…

Darkness…

Sound was the first thing to return to him. What had been little snippets of half-heard phrases slowly began to form sentences… and not long after that he'd been able to understand what was being said around him.

"We need more snow!"

"It shouldn't be melting this fast!"

He recognised the voices, but their owners escaped him. Where was he? What had he been doing? He was starting to regain feeling and instantly wished he wasn't. He was hot. Way too hot. And his stomach was churning like he'd drunk curdled milk. His muscles felt heavy and refused to budge, even at his urging. The dull ache in the back of his skull quickly grew into a full-fledged migraine and he suddenly wished he could just pass out again.

"Body temperature is at 30°*."

"We need to get some fluids into 'im."

As more and more feeling returned to him, it became increasingly hard to breathe. He gasped, desperately trying to take deep breaths but he just couldn't get enough air.

"Calm down, Frostbite. Take deep breaths. Come on!"

I'm trying, Jack wanted to snap back but he didn't have the strength. So, he did the only thing he could do. With great struggle, he managed to open his eyes a fraction and glared at an almost panicked Pooka standing over him. That wasn't what he'd expected. The glare lost its bite and he settled on trying to figure out what was going on.

Bunny had grabbed his hand and placed against his chest, saying something about breathing and copying but it was going straight over Jack's head. He noted the other Guardians were there, too. North seemed to be ordering yetis about, something about buckets… Tooth didn't seem able to stay still for more than a moment, looking anxious and not sure what to do with herself. Sandy was creating symbols above his head but it didn't seem like anyone else had noticed.

A furry paw grabbed his face, turning it to the side and Jack found himself staring straight up at Bunny, who could have been either annoyed or worried. It was hard to tell.

"I need you to listen to me, Jack, alright?"

Why was he in a bathtub? His jumper seemed to have wandered off somewhere, along with his staff. A strange image of his staff wearing his jumper came to mind and he could feel a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Man, it was really starting to get hard to breathe.

"Jack!"

His face was wrenched back towards Bunny; he hadn't even noticed he'd looked away.

"Nod if you can hear me," the Pooka instructed.

It took a lot of effort, but Jack managed to do what Bunny asked.

"Okay, I need you to calm down and breathe with me, alrigh'? Slow, deep breaths. In and out."

When had his hand gotten onto Bunny's chest? He felt like he was supposed to be doing something but the headache was making it hard to think and he couldn't breathe.

"Jack, breathe! Come on, mate."

Breathe? No… all he wanted to do was sleep. He shut his eyes, intent on doing just that but a harsh jolt shocked his eyes open again.

"Tired," he tried to say, but it came out as more of a half-groaned 't'd'.

"I know, mate, but you can't go to sleep. On the count of three, I want you to take a deep breath, okay? One, two, three."

Why was he in a bathtub? And where had his jumper and staff gone?

"Jack!" Bunny said, and it was clear from his tone that he was starting to get frustrated.

"Wh't?"

"You were supposed to breathe with me!"

Oh. He'd forgotten. As if to make up for it, Jack made a show of attempting to take a deep breath, but ended up just starting a coughing fit. He felt like his insides were fighting to climb out through his throat and he retched. Someone had moved him slightly onto his side.

Why was he in a bathtub?

A bucket of snow was unceremoniously dumped onto his chest. He suddenly realised how hot he was. Why was he so hot? Bunny was saying something again… breathe? Oh, yeah, that was important.

"Here, Sweet Tooth," it was Tooth this time. She'd pushed Bunny out of the way and was holding a glass of water out towards him. When it became clear that he wasn't going to be able to take it from her, she pressed the rim of the glass to his lips and gently tilted it. "Not too fast, Jack, or you'll end up bringing it back up again."

It was hard to restrain himself; the water was like it had been sent from the MiM himself. Or maybe he was really just that thirsty. Either one.

"Now, Sweet Tooth, you really need to calm down and breathe for us, okay? Like this," she took an exaggeratedly deep breath, gently lifting his hand to her chest. "Follow my rhythm. Breathe with me."

But the darkness was starting to creep around the edges of his vision and he could barely make out what she was saying. Then all at once the world blackened and he knew no more.

...

...

Tooth ran a tired hand down her face as she flew into the Globe Room, mug of hot chocolate in hand. Jack wasn't much better than he had been when he'd arrived, and they still weren't entirely sure how he'd ended up in that state. They kept piling bucketful after bucketful of snow onto him but it melted far too quickly than it should considering Jack's position as the spirit of winter. Nothing they did would lower his dangerously high temperature.

They'd all been surprised when he'd woken; with a fever like that, they'd expected him to be unconscious for days. And then he'd started hyperventilating and Bunny had panicked and –

Tooth stopped and forced herself to calm down. There was no sense freaking out over it or she'd be of no help whatsoever. Besides, Jack wasn't their only patient.

The figure huddled under the blanket by the fireplace looked up as she flew over to him. She'd never met the spirit in person, but she knew who he was.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, handing him the mug.

"Slightly less frozen," he grinned at her, accepting the drink. "Thanks."

"We haven't been properly introduced, have we?" Tooth settled herself on the floor beside him. Her hands were numb from all the snow. "I'm Tooth."

"I know who you are," he took a sip of the drink. "I doubt there are any who don't. Although you probably already know, I'm Lleu."

They lapsed into silence.

"How is he?" Lleu asked after a moment.

"There's not much difference," Tooth sighed. "He woke up for a few minutes, but I'm not sure how aware he was. What happened?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure. One minute I was enjoying the afternoon, the next I was stopping Frost from falling out of the sky. I think he was trying to get back here, but flying through the middle of summer in his condition really wasn't a smart plan."

Tooth frowned, fiddling with her feathers. "Thank you for bringing him here. It must have been hard for you, too."

"Nah, a little snow never bothered me," Lleu shrugged airily.

Tooth raised her brow sceptically. "I find that hard to believe. You were practically frozen when Phil found you!"

"Well, I was nowhere near as bad as Jack. And, right now, he's what's important."

...

...

Bunny's brows were knitted together in concern as he poured yet another bucket of snow over the flushed figure of Jack Frost. On a normal day, it wouldn't have melted at all, so for it to be melting so quickly was a really bad sign.

He'd been ready to pound the summer spirit when Phil had dragged him into the Globe Room, an unconscious and clearly ill Jack in his arms. Lleu had been pale as a ghost, muttering about burns, and being sorry, and not knowing what happened. North had quickly ushered the kid over to the fireplace, exclaiming at how cold he was. But Lleu had nothing on Jack. Where Lleu had been frozen, Jack was practically melting.

Probably still would if they didn't figure out how to bring his fever down.

"Bunny, you should go get rest. I will take over."

Bunny looked up at North and shook his head. "Nah, mate. I think I'll stay 'ere."

"You won't do Jack any good by wearing yourself out."

"Even so," Bunny grabbed the cloth off Jack's forehead and rinsed it in a bucket of ice water before replacing it.

"Lleu is alright," Tooth announced as she fluttered back into the bathroom. "He's still a bit cold but a night by the fireplace should fix it."

"Well, that's some good news at least," North sighed.

"Bunny, you look exhausted," Tooth placed a delicate hand on his shoulder.

"I ain't leaving," Bunny said stubbornly.

"Do you want me to make up a bed for you in here so you don't have to?"

Bunny raised his head to meet her gaze. From the look on her face, it seemed she understood. "It's alright."

"Alright, but I want you to get some sleep soon, or I'll have Sandy knock you out."

At the mention of his name, Sandy smirked maliciously, pounding a ball of dream sand into his hand threateningly.

"I will… just not yet," Bunny turned back to Jack and rechecked his temperature. Still no change.

"There's got to be something more we can do," North murmured.

"If we could figure out what happened, we might get a better idea of what to do, but Lleu doesn't know. He said he was already in a bad way when he found him," Tooth replied worriedly. "We've already done everything we can. Now it's up to Jack."

...

...

The world was silent when Jack awoke the second time. Feeling had yet to return, but, he mused, that was probably a good thing. It took far more effort than it should have to force his eyes open and when he did, he instantly closed them again as the sudden light blinded him.

After waiting a moment, he tried again, happy to note that it wasn't quite as painful as before. He was lying in a bathtub, his whole body save his head covered in mostly melted snow. His jumper was missing, as was his staff, but at that moment he was too tired to care.

There was something sitting in his peripheral vision. Curious, he tilted his head but instantly regretted it. That one small action set off all the other pains and aches of his body and he had to shut his eyes until the room stopped spinning. His head was pounding and he was dizzy and his whole body felt like it was on fire.

Why was he so hot?

And then the events of his last waking moments returned to him.

He had done something stupid. He'd melted snow. But he didn't regret it. He'd never regret it. If he hadn't done it, that family would have died. It had been his fault, and therefore his responsibility to fix it. He could remember flying north, trying to get back to the Pole but not much more than that. How had he ended up in a bathtub covered in snow?

As the world righted itself once more, Jack very slowly shifted until he could see what was sitting to his side. It was Bunny.

The Pooka had his head resting on his arms while he leant against the edge of the bath, fast asleep. The sight brought a small smile to his face. So he'd managed to get back to the Pole, after all.

He could feel the water soaking into his shirt and pants, but it was doing nothing to douse the burning feeling that had overcome him. He was too hot. He felt like he was melting. He had to get up, had to get somewhere cold. The snow-banks outside would work.

Jack concentrated on moving his arms, alarmed at how weak his muscles were. After what felt like hours, he managed to manoeuvre them into position and tried to push himself into a sitting position. The slight inclination of his head was enough to set off the nausea and he had to stop before he threw up.

It took minutes before he felt like he could try again – slower this time. With a great struggle, he managed it, gripping the edge of the bath for support. As time dragged on his body grew steadily hotter, and along with temperature, his desperation to get out grew.

It took considerably longer to haul himself out of the bath than it had to sit up. He had to keep stopping every few seconds from exhaustion and pain. He was almost on his feet before a painful tug on his arm made him stop. He glanced down at the twinging appendage, only to find, to his horror, some kind of tubbed needle sticking out of it.

Jack followed the tube with his eyes until they rested on some sort of pack filled with a clear liquid hanging on a metal hook. With his mouth open and eyes wide, he yanked the needle from his arm, biting back a cry as it drew blood. What were they thinking?! Jabbing things into him! A small voice in the back of his mind told him it was probably important and that maybe he shouldn't have been so hasty in removing it, but he smothered that voice down and focused on getting over to the door.

Every so often he would look back at Bunny to make sure the Pooka was still asleep; he had a feeling the overgrown rabbit would not agree with him on the matter. But he really needed to get outside. It was too hot and no bathtub of snow was going to be able to cool him down. He needed a storm.

He almost laughed at the irony of it all. A storm was what had caused this mess and now he needed one to fix it.

Walking turned out to be a little too much to ask for. Jack fell to his knees after the first step and the wall was too far away to lean on. So, with no other options available, he began a slow crawl across the bathroom floor, pulling himself back up to his feet upon reaching the doorframe.

He had to stand there for a moment, his head resting on the wood, to catch his breath. Once he felt sure he could start moving again without collapsing, he headed down the hall, the wall taking most of his weight.

The trip to the outside was remarkably quiet – only his laboured breathing and heavy footsteps breaking the silence. It was night time, apparently; that was the only explanation he could come up with. Eventually, he just couldn't keep going. He wasn't even close to the front door. Or any door that led outside.

Jack pressed his back against the wall and slid down, his head lolled backwards. His whole body was slick with sweat and he was sure he'd be nothing more than a puddle of water on the wooden floor by the time anyone found him. His eyelids grew heavy and he gave in to the exhaustion.

The sound of rattling glass brought him back to consciousness with a jolt. He looked around, but there was nothing nearby that looked as though it could have made such a sound.

Another rattle; it was coming from above.

Jack slowly raised his head and stared at the wall above him. He could have wept for joy. There was a window right there, the wind pushing violently against it.

With renewed determination, Jack gathered the last of his strength and staggered to his feet. The window was just out of reach. If he had his staff, he would have gotten to it no problem, but as it was, he would have to jump. But it was shut. How was he going to open it?

A tiny jingling sound made him freeze in place. Hesitantly, Jack turned to face a rather stunned looking elf. They stared each other down for a while, each just as shocked as the other before the elf seemed to recover from its stupor, panic overruling shock as it turned and hurried the other way down the hallway – likely to go and fetch North.

"W… wait," he rasped. "Dingle!"

He'd called the name on instinct – honestly he wasn't sure which elf it was – and he only knew the names of two, but the elf stopped. Almost comically in its slowness, the elf looked back over its shoulder towards him.

Huh. I guess it was Dingle. "I… I need your help."

The elf glanced from him, down the hallway and back again. "You can… go get North later…"

Dingle was still undecided and Jack could have growled in frustration.

"Come on… You owe me!"

That did it. Dingle gave a heavy sigh and waddled back over to him. He looked up with an expression of resignation.

Jack leant down and picked the small elf up – much to Dingle's protest – and, with much effort, held him up towards the window. "I need you… to open it. Don't look at me like that… just do it!"

Dingle sighed again, but did as he was instructed. As soon as it was open, the wind burst into the hall, freezing the sweat on Jack's body as it wrapped itself around him.

With that done, Jack plopped the elf back on the ground and jumped, only just managing to grab the window ledge. He dangled there for a moment, trying to find the strength to pull himself up. Dingle remained where he was, watching with something akin to concern. Or maybe it was confusion. Regret? He really didn't know anymore. His head was pounding and he couldn't think straight.

Dingle seemed to come to a decision and bolted, disappearing down the end of the hallway.

Jack took a deep breath and pulled. His arms burned with the effort and it took no less than four tries before he was able to climb up onto the window frame. He stuck his head out the window and looked down. He was on the second floor, at least, but there was a lot of snow piled below. In the end, his want for the cold outside overcame common sense and he dove out, landing face down into the powder.

*Celsius – I'm Australian and have no idea what that comparison is in Fahrenheit. Also, in my headcannon, Jack's natural body temperature is a lot lower than that of regular humans – I don't know what exactly; I'll leave that up to your imagination ;)

Guest Review Responses:

SaiyanPrincess: Hahaha yup XD Smoke detectors are poos. Thank you!