This chapter was one of the hardest I've ever had to write. If there's anything canonically incorrect (or historically) that is entirely my fault and I am very sorry.
HUGE thank you to SonYukiGoku'Sister (who requested this chapter), Guest, Britt30, Pyropesy, and Ravenna Frost for all their help. Without these guys, this chapter would not exist.
Disclaimed.
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Displaced
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The tiny wooden centre doll smiled mischievously up at him as Jack slowly twirled it around in his hand. It was strange, now that he thought about it, that North had had it ready to give him after they'd defeated Pitch. There hadn't been enough time to make it in that short gap, so the only logical explanation was that he'd had it prepared earlier. But how had he known? Even Jack hadn't known what his centre was until right near the end. For North to have had time to make the doll, he would have had to have known in much greater advance than that. And though he was grateful for the gesture, Jack wasn't quite sure he felt about the fact that North had successfully analysed him as easily and quickly as he had; that North seemed to know him better than he knew himself.
It wasn't a bad feeling, he decided. Just… different. Unsettling. It was daunting, after being alone for so long, for someone to know him so keenly and so much deeper than the front he put up. But at the same time he found it wasn't anywhere near as bad as his mind made him think it should be. It was actually kind of nice, to be so understood. And North always had good intentions.
Now that he was thinking about it, Jack realised that it was more than just his centre that North was freakishly intuitive about. With the exception of Bunny, the Guardians had all been pretty welcoming when they'd first dropped the bombshell on him, but none of them had really gotten him back then. Except for North. Sure, at first, it seemed like he was just as clueless as the rest of them, but Jack could see now that even back then, at their first official meeting – before it, even – North understood who he was so well that even Jack himself was unable to keep up with the introspection. Because, when it came down to it, he did want to be a Guardian. Maybe not in the same sense that they operated, but he loved kids and he wanted to bring them joy and keep them safe. He always had. He just hadn't understood that there was more to being a Guardian than he'd thought. Heck, even the kidnapping thing had been cleverly tailored to him; it was probably the best way they could have gotten him to the Pole – chances were he never would have gone willingly – and in hindsight shoving someone into a sack and tossing them through a magic portal was totally something he would have done had their positions been reversed.
Jack stopped twirling the doll and stared down at it. How had North known? How had he known more about him than even Jack did? Jack just couldn't figure it out. Before the Pitch thing they'd never even spoken to each other. Was he really that predictable? Or was North just way more observant than he looked?
Only one way to find out, he mused, and slid off the rafter he'd been reclining on to go in search of North. It was a good few months before the real busy season kicked in, so finding the guy shouldn't be too difficult; he'd be more likely to stay in one place for more than two seconds, at the very least. Jack headed towards North's office first – the most likely place to find him – whilst mentally cataloguing all the other places worth searching in case he wasn't there.
"North?" he called, gently pushing open the door and sticking his head inside. The room was as interesting as it always was, but there was no sign of North. Jack stood in the doorway, frowning. Where else, then? The Workshop? The sleigh? The kitchen? Maybe Phil knew.
He turned to leave, but paused when he caught sight of a glimmer of light reflecting off something on the worktable. Between a stack of paper and an ice car was a single snow globe. Now, this wasn't unusual in and of itself; there were plenty of snow globes at the Pole. What was unusual was that this one had been left where the elves could potentially find it. And, as Jack got closer, he realised that wasn't the only thing unusual about it. All of the other snow globes he'd seen had been red on the poles with golden décor. This snow globe, however, was gold and silver.
"That's weird," he muttered, picking up the snow globe and holding it to eye level. Besides the colour, it didn't really look any different to the others. Was it a new kind of snow globe? Or was North just trying out a new colour scheme? He squinted at it, as if that would make it answer his questions. It didn't.
With a shrug, he put it back.
Or, at least, he would have if the door hadn't chosen that moment to slam open.
Jack startled badly, his gaze shooting over to the doorway where North had just entered.
"North!" he cried. In his shock, the snow globe slipped from his fingers. He scrambled to catch it, but too late. It shattered against the floorboards, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. Instantly a portal burst into life, a strange monochromatic spiral that in no way resembled the usual portals.
Jack only had a second to realise what had happened and, turning to North, catch a glimpse of his panicked expression before he was sucked in and his vision blackened.
...
...
Jack's first thought upon his return to consciousness was that he was roughly 90% sure that he'd been turned into a noodle. Only 90%, though, because he couldn't quite bring himself to peel his face off the pile of snow he was lying in to check. His whole body felt uncomfortably stretched and achy. In fact, if he was being completely honest, it was tempting to just lie there for the rest of eternity. What had even happened, anyway?
Right, he thought as the memories came flooding back. That weird snow globe.
His eyes shot open. The snow globe! Where had it sent him?!
It took considerably more effort than it should have for Jack to push himself to his knees and by the time he'd achieved it he was feeling weaker and tireder than he'd ever been (though he was thankful to note that he was not, in fact, a noodle). With an exhausted sigh, he scooted backwards until he was leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. It didn't take more than a cursory glance to realise he was in some kind of forest, but there was nothing resembling any sort of civilisation in his line of sight, so he had no way of knowing where.
"Well," he murmured, "it shouldn't be too hard to figure out." As soon as he started feeling a little less lethargic he'd fly up, get his bearings, and head back to the Pole. North was probably worried. Or mad. Or both.
The sound of crunching snow and a deep, accented voice had Jack cracking his eyes open again. Funny, he didn't remember closing them. The sun was further overhead than he remembered too. He must have fallen asleep.
Groggily, he rolled his head to the side in time to see a large, pale horse appear from between the trees. Mounted on its back was a tall goateed man in furred clothing. Two swords were strapped at his waist (and honestly who went around carrying swords in this day and age? Besides North, of course). Jack couldn't help but think him incredibly familiar, although he couldn't quite say why.
The horse snorted, its breath steaming in the frigid air, and turned its head until it had fixed its stare on Jack. It came to an abrupt halt, stomping the ground with its front hoof. The rider said something in what sounded like Russian, giving a light kick in an attempt to get his horse moving again, but it adamantly refused.
Jack watched in mild amusement. Animals had always been able to see him, but it was very rare for them to be so fixated on him. "Go on," he urged quietly. "Better get moving before he gets mad."
The horse tossed its head and stomped again. A very clear 'no' if ever Jack had seen one.
The man huffed in frustration, muttering something else, before following his horse's gaze to where Jack was still sitting. Jack met his gaze evenly, knowing full well that he might as well have not been there at all in the man's eyes.
And so it was with great confusion that he watched the man's eyes widen as he dismounted. Was he sitting on something and he simply hadn't realised? Or maybe there was something important about the tree he was currently using as to support himself?
The man spoke again, tone softer than it had been before, never once taking his eyes off the spot where Jack sat. Jack lolled his head to the side, trying to find whatever it was that had so captured his attention, but all he could see were snow and trees. Nothing even remotely interesting. He forced his attention back to the man, who was speaking again, both hands held in front of him in a clear show of peace.
"What is he looking at?" Jack frowned. Was he sitting on a rabbit or something? He shifted slightly, but he didn't feel any tell-tale lumps.
"English?" the man tried.
Jack stared at him.
"Do you speak English?" he tried again.
A befuddled smirk stretched Jack's face. "Trees don't speak. English or otherwise." Dryads could talk though, but that was another matter. And he couldn't see any dryads in the immediate vicinity.
As if in response, the man smiled to match his own. "Do they not? Perhaps you are simply not listening." He waved a hand flippantly. "Is no matter. I was not asking tree."
Jack was starting to get the creeping suspicion that he might possibly be visible to this man. But surely that was ridiculous. He was an adult.
Tentatively, because he needed to make sure, he asked, "Are… Are you talking to me?"
"I do not see anyone else here, do you?"
Jack openly gaped at him. This guy could see him?! Wasn't he a little old to believe in spirits? Not that Jack was complaining, mind.
"What is your name, boy?" the man pulled Jack from his thoughts.
Jack frowned. How could he believe but not know who he was? Well, he supposed it was possible. "Jack Frost."
"Well, Jack, what has one as young as yourself alone in middle of woods, hm?"
Or maybe not. Just what was going on here? "Just taking a rest before I figure out where I am," he said anyway.
"You are lost?" the man's smile slipped.
"Um, kinda." But it wasn't like it was going to take him long to sort it out. He just needed to find the energy to get up first.
"Where is your home?"
Jack mulled over his answer. The closest thing he had to a home was the town of Burgess, but even that wasn't a home in its traditional sense. He didn't have a residence there, or family (except the Bennetts, of course, but that was different). The North Pole was closer to being a 'home' but it wasn't really. It was North's home. He just liked to visit.
He was taking too long to respond. The man was starting to look concerned and… sympathetic?
"I don't… I mean, that's not important," Jack hastily replied. "I'm trying to get to my friend's place."
The expression on the man's face didn't waver. "And where would that be?"
"…To the north."
The man turned to what Jack presumed was the north, as if hoping to see where Jack was trying to go. "There is nothing to the north for a good while," he said at length, and Jack wondered if he'd already known that or somehow gleaned it by staring off into the distance. "Come, I am on journey to retrieve something that was stolen from me. Perhaps we find where you are going, yes?"
He offered a hand to help him up and, grateful, Jack accepted. The bone-deep weariness was no better than it had been before. In fact, it felt worse now that he was on his feet, but it was hard to judge. Leaning heavily on his staff and hyperaware of the man's gaze watching him carefully, Jack allowed himself to be led over to the horse.
Most horses weren't too thrilled by him – he was too cold – but this one didn't seem to mind. It gave him a nudge with its nose in greeting, and he reached up a hand to stroke its neck in return.
"This is Petrov," the man introduced. "He is good horse, very reliable. We have been friends for many a year!"
Petrov snorted in a way that could have either been agreement or contradiction, enticing a large grin from the man. "And I," he continued, "am Nicholas St. North!" The way he said it made it apparent that he was expecting some sort of reaction. Recognition, most likely; possibly also some degree of awe.
Well, Jack definitely recognised it.
He inhaled sharply, tripping and nearly toppling over in his surprise. In any other situation he would have vehemently denied it, but it all clicked into place so smoothly. That was why he'd found the man so familiar. He had North's… well, everything. Right down to that twinkle in his eye that North had called wonder.
Nicholas St. North reached out to steady him, face a canvas of surprise. This was obviously not the reaction he had been going for. "Are you alright?" he asked. He sounded apologetic.
"I– um– I'm–" Jack struggled to form anything even remotely coherent. How was this possible?! He had no doubts in his mind that the guy was telling the truth – he was North – but he looked decades younger. And human. The only way this could be possible was if…
Oh.
Oh no.
Well, he'd been right. That hadn't been an ordinary snow globe. Somehow, it had sent him back in time. From the looks of things, to before North had become a Guardian. Which also explained why he felt so terrible; he didn't have any believers, and Guardians depended on believers for their power, for their entire existence. But in that case, how was he still here? Without any believers, shouldn't he have faded away?
No, he corrected himself, staring at Nicholas, I have at least one. He decidedly did not think about the possibility of having been sent back to a time when no one believed in him.
"Jack?" Nicholas hedged.
"I'm fine," Jack managed, but it sounded strangled and fake even to his own ears. Nicholas' expression confirmed that the lie hadn't been lost on him, either. What was he going to do? This was no longer as simple as heading back to the Workshop. Even if he managed to get there, there wasn't anything there for him to find yet! He needed help. Unfortunately, the only one he could think of that would be able to give it to him was someone who didn't like him very much: Father Time.
Of course, there was the possibility that because he was now in the past Father Time wouldn't know him and therefore wouldn't have any sort of grudge against him, but a linear flow of time never seemed to have applied to the guy. He didn't experience time in the same way as everyone else – Jack could see him one day and then the next it had been 50 years in Father Time's eyes.
Nicholas gave him a long, searching look, as if believing that if he stared long enough he could figure out what Jack was hiding. Thankfully, after a moment he turned away and mounted Petrov. "Come, let us be off!" he said, patting the space behind him.
Jack shook his turbulent thoughts away. He had several hundred years to figure this out. There was no point dwelling on it and stressing himself out. He'd stick with Nicholas for a while and then set out to look for Father Time. Maybe he was still living in the Bermuda Triangle. It would make the trip uncomfortable – that area wasn't exactly Jack's idea of a vacation – but it was a necessary evil if he didn't want to wait half a millennium to catch up with his own time. Assuming he could still fly in his weakened state at all.
Plastering a smile on his face, Jack stepped forward and swung himself up onto Petrov's back with more difficulty than he normally would have. The wind, though still friendly towards him, didn't know him yet, and even if it had, Jack suspected that his current lack of believers would negate any real help it could provide. He said nothing, though, and, a muttered word to Petrov later, they were on their way.
For ten long minutes, Petrov carried them through the snow-covered forest. The silence stretched on uncomfortably, and Jack struggled to come up with a conversation starter even as he fought to keep his weary head from falling onto Nicholas' back. Finally, he recalled something Nicholas had briefly mentioned and he seized it.
"So what was stolen?" he asked.
Nicholas turned slightly to glance back at him. "It is book – very valuable manuscript. Originally, I stole it from local lord, but he thought he could steal it back! He does not yet realise just who he is dealing with, I am sure."
Jack stared at the back of his head, struggling to reconcile this North and the one he knew. His North had mentioned having been a bandit before he became a Guardian, and Jack had heard a few stories here and there, both from North himself and second-hand from some of the others. So really he shouldn't have been as surprised as he was that Nicholas was a thief. He probably would have been on his own Naughty List, which was an amusing thought.
Given that he was travelling with the guy, Nicholas probably expected Jack to help him retrieve this twice-stolen manuscript, but Jack couldn't quite say he was comfortable with that. There was a big difference between playing a few tricks on people or stealing out of necessity and stealing simply because you felt like it.
"I'm sure," Jack half-heartedly agreed.
"And what of you?" Nicholas prompted. "Tell me about this friend of yours! Where to the north will we find them?"
A small smile graced Jack's face at the thought of telling this younger North about the him from the future, but the reminder that he had been seriously displaced and that heading to the Pole was no longer an option quickly wiped it away.
"You know," he sighed, "I remembered that they're not there anymore." Well, not yet, but that was too complicated to bother getting into. "There's someone else who can probably help me, but I don't know where to find them."
Nicholas looked back at him again, an expression on his face that was somewhere between sad, concerned, and hopeful. "Perhaps I know of them."
Jack gave a laugh that was more of an exhale than anything. "I seriously doubt it."
"Is possible! You will not know unless you try."
While he made a good point, Jack still held his tongue. He couldn't risk it. If he wasn't careful, his actions here could change the future. And while that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he didn't want to jeopardise his current life. Things were finally going well for him. To have that taken away because he'd been careless was… unthinkable. Unacceptable.
Whatever Nicholas thought of his silence, he said nothing of it, turning to face the front once more.
They delved back into silence, but it only lasted a fraction of the time it had stretched on for the first time before Nicholas suddenly announced, "Have you ever heard of time I fought an entire regiment of cavalry with steak knife? While I was eating!"
Jack raised a brow. Somehow, that didn't sound as unbelievable as he thought it probably should have. "No," he replied. And Nicholas promptly began reciting the tale to him, Jack's grin growing wider with every word. This was the North he knew. Some things never change, I guess, he mused.
It felt like hours went by before they finally came across something beyond rocks, trees, and snow. In the distance, Jack could just make out what looked like some sort of small camp. It was hard to see between the trees, but there was a definite glow of a campfire standing out against all the white, and if he listened closely, he thought he could hear gruff voices.
Nicholas brought Petrov to a halt well out of sight of the camp. The horse remained perfectly still, refraining from even shaking his head, as if he could sense the need for absolute silence.
"What is it?" Jack murmured needlessly. Just because Nicholas could somehow see him, didn't mean that the people ahead, whoever they were, would be able to too.
"They are the men nobleman sent to retrieve manuscript," Nicholas whispered back.
Jack's eyes widened and he strained to get a better look at them. But they were too far away to see clearly. How Nicholas could tell was beyond him. "So what's the plan?"
Nicholas dismounted, being careful not to accidentally dislodge Jack as he did so. "I will go and get back manuscript. You and Petrov stay here and wait for me, yes?"
Well, at least he didn't expect Jack to doing any stealing himself. But it still didn't sit right with him. Not just because there was no real reason for Nicholas to steal the manuscript, but because it all felt too easy. But, then, these were just men, not spirits with magical powers, and Nicholas was a renowned bandit with the makings of a legend. And if he really had fought off a regiment with a bent steak knife, whilst eating or not, then this should be a walk in the park.
"Uh, okay," Jack agreed, accepting the reins when Nicholas handed them to him.
"I will not be long." He added something to Petrov in Russian, drew his swords, and began creeping through the forest towards the camp. From the looks of things he was trying to be stealthy, but it was a bit hard when he was wearing bright red in a world of white.
Jack followed him with his eyes as best he could. After several minutes he disappeared from sight, but shortly after the sound of shouting and clanging metal reached him and he knew Nicholas had begun his assault on the camp. Petrov shifted in agitation, as if wanting to join the fray. Jack felt antsy as well. Despite not really wanting to join in, he felt like he should be doing something to help.
After a minute or two, the shouting and clanging died away and there was silence. Jack waited uneasily, expecting to see Nicholas walking towards him triumphantly, book in hand, at any second. But the only movement was the steady swaying of branches in the breeze. He waited a minute longer, but still nothing.
"Okay, we've given him enough time," Jack decided. "What do you say we go see what's holding him up, Petrov?"
He had no idea if Petrov understood English – or Russian, for that matter – but Petrov gave a low nicker as if in agreement and started a slow walk, giving the camp a wide berth but getting closer all the same.
It wasn't long before Jack could start making out details. The camp had been set up in a small clearing, with a fire in the middle and all manner of things strewn about in the snow that had obviously gotten caught up in Nicholas' attack. There were four men in the clearing including Nicholas. The others were all tall and intimidating fellows that looked like they'd been drinking plenty of protein shakes, even with their fur coats concealing much of their bodies. All of them bore weapons except for the one North had pinned against his chest, one sword at his throat and the other pointed towards the other three men. The others were still, with angry faces and making threatening gestures as they spoke darkly. Probably telling Nicholas to let their friend go.
It was a standoff if ever Jack had seen one. Nicholas' only bargaining tool was the guy he'd captured. It surely wouldn't be long before someone had to give.
Jack cast his gaze around the rest of the clearing and quickly spotted a satchel that had been thrown halfway across the clearing at some point in the scuffle. The flap had come open, and inside Jack could make out what looked like a thick rectangle wrapped in cloth.
"The manuscript," he realised.
No one was paying any attention to it, and even if they had been, Jack doubted any of them would be able to see him except Nicholas and Petrov. With significantly less grace than he was accustomed to, Jack slid down from the saddle, leaning heavily on the horse and his staff until he could regain his balance. He was really not liking the weakness that came with having only one believer. If this is what the Guardians had felt like during that Easter…
"Wait here," he told Petrov, before starting to slink into the camp.
Petrov stomped his hoof in protest, but didn't follow after him. Smart horse. It was almost too easy to grab the satchel and carry it back to Petrov. The men on the other side of the clearing were so caught up in themselves that none of them even blinked in his direction. Even Nicholas didn't appear to have noticed. Not that Jack was going to complain.
Now there was just the matter of Nicholas and the standoff to deal with. If he was going to do something, he knew he would have to do it soon; the mercenaries were getting noticeably agitated. Jack gestured for Petrov to go back the way they had come and, not bothering to check that the horse had understood let alone obeyed, started towards the men.
It didn't take long for Nicholas to spot him. His eyes went as wide as saucers and he somehow managed to convey 'What are you doing I said STAY' with his expression alone. Jack would have been suitably cowed if not for the fact that he never had been one for obedience. Lucky for Nicholas.
With a roll of his eyes, Jack reached down and scooped up a handful of snow. "And here I thought the great Nicholas St. North could handle a few mercenaries without needing any help," he smirked.
The men had caught onto Nicholas' apparent shock and – dare Jack say it – fear, and their sinister mutterings fell away to silence. Two of them turned to look in Jack's direction, but as predicted they saw nothing.
Jack simply grinned, tossed the snowball he'd made in one hand, and then pegged it in the meanest looking guy's face. The man stumbled backwards in surprise, spluttering and cursing as he frantically wiped the remnants of snow from his face. The other one was immediately on high alert, sword raised as they tried to scope out this unseen threat.
Jack scooped up some more snow and tossed it at one of them. It hit its mark (even weakened his aim was as good as ever) and, like the first mercenary, this guy blubbered and raged, barking something that Jack figured was an order to show himself.
I wouldn't even if I could, Jack thought, readying another handful of snow that he was fully prepared to dump down someone's shirt. Or at least splatter across the back of someone's neck given that he couldn't actually come into direct contact with them.
The two uncaptured mercenaries were losing their patience very, very quickly. The one Jack had struck first – the presumed leader – barked something to his companion and menacingly strode across the clearing, searching for Jack. The other returned his attention to Nicholas, sword levelled at his throat and speaking in a demanding tone. Nicholas said something back with a cheeky grin and suddenly shoved his hostage at the man. The hostage and his friend were taken by surprise and both fell heavily to the snow.
Jack leapt to the side just in time to avoid being walked through by the leader of the mercenaries. He jabbed at the ground with the end of his staff, intending to freeze the ground and slip him up, but nothing happened.
"Damn, no powers," he grumbled.
Nicholas, thankfully, was in no way hindered. In less than thirty seconds he had disarmed the two mercenaries who were still struggling to get back to their feet. The leader, hearing the commotion, spun back around. His scowl darkened as he realised what had happened and, sword held at the ready, he charged towards Nicholas, who easily blocked the attack with his swords.
Unfortunately, the distraction gave the other two time to sort themselves out and get up.
"Oh no you don't," Jack growled, sprinting towards their discarded swords and using his staff to fling them away before they could reach them. The men froze at the sight of their swords moving on their own, giving each other bewildered and slightly frightened looks. After a moment's hesitation they tried again, and again Jack pushed them out of reach. If all he could do was delay them and buy Nicholas some time to deal with the leader then that was what he would do.
It turned out that he didn't need to wait for long. There was a sharp cry from the duel that made Jack and the two other mercenaries turn just as Nicholas slammed the hilt of one of his swords into his opponent's temple. The mercenary crumpled to the ground and didn't move.
Distracted, Jack wasn't prepared for the remaining two's third attempt to reclaim their weapons. They succeeded and with a fierce cry they charged Nicholas, who stood tall and ready. Jack watched in awe as he expertly fended them off, matching them blow for blow with such ease that Jack wondered how they had managed to steal back the manuscript in the first place. Or, for that matter, how they'd managed to get themselves into that standoff they'd been in when Jack and Petrov had gotten impatient.
Still, though, Jack felt he shouldn't just stand there and watch. Nicholas might have been every bit the expert fighter Jack had heard he was, but two against one just wasn't fair. Stooping for more snow, Jack prepared the biggest snowball he could muster and, holding it above his head in both hands, ran forward and dropped it on one of the mercenaries' head just as he made to strike Nicholas.
The man gave a surprised shriek and spun around, blade whipping though the air and very narrowly avoiding slicing Jack in half. A second later Nicholas kicked him in the back and sent him sprawling face-first into the snow. Nicholas spared Jack a grin and a wink before giving the remaining man his full attention.
But the downed man didn't stay down for long. In a matter of moments he was back on his feet, and ready to continue his attack against Nicholas.
"Don't even think about it!" Jack growled, going for the snowball tactic again. But the man had apparently decided his invisible assailant wasn't worth worrying about and, brushing the excess snow from his face with a growl, continued on towards Nicholas.
"Stop!" Jack cried. Without even realising what he was doing he jumped in front of him in an attempt to stop him, but the man simply walked through him. Jack clutched his chest as the familiar ache spread through him.
"You're invisible, mate," Bunny's words echoed through his mind, "it's like you don't even exist."
No, Jack countered. He may not be visible, or even tangible, but he did exist, and he wasn't helpless. There was someone here who could see him. "Nicholas! Behind you!"
Nicholas spun around at Jack's shout, metal clanging against metal as he raised his sword up to meet his assailant's. The other mercenary seized the opportunity the distraction allowed him. He raised his sword at Nicholas' unprotected back, ready to run him through. There was no way Jack would be able to stop him, and even if he shouted a warning, there was no way Nicholas would be able to react quick enough, either.
"North!"
There was a loud neigh and Petrov burst from the tree line, barrelling into the man before he even had a chance to move. Dazed, he tried to get back up, but Petrov was having none of that. He planted a hoof in the centre of the mercenary's back and shoved him back down with a whinny that sounded something like the horse equivalent of 'no'.
Nicholas quickly incapacitated his current opponent and spun around with a mighty grin. "Petrov!" he beamed, no doubt realising what had happened.
Petrov tossed his mane proudly. Jack decided that Petrov was his officially his favourite horse. Besides Sleipnir, of course. It was hard to beat a magical eight-legged horse that could fly.
"Jack!" Nicholas suddenly spun around to face him, giving him a once-over with his eyes. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," Jack grinned. "You?"
"Me? Of course!" he gave Jack a hearty slap on the back that nearly dislodged all of Jack's organs. "You have very good aim, my boy! And snowballs! Surprisingly affective!"
"And fun," Jack laughed. "Nothing like a good old-fashioned snowball fight. Even if your opponents don't notice the game."
It was clear from the side glance he snuck as he ushered Jack over to Petrov that Nicholas was at least suspicious about the fact that none of the mercenaries had been able to see him, but for whatever reason didn't comment on it. Jack decided it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Come," Nicholas said, "let us find manuscript and be on our way!"
"One step ahead of you," Jack replied, lifting the wrapped book from the satchel hanging from Petrov's saddle.
Nicholas accepted it from him with a triumphant 'ha!'. Then, with a look that could only be called fond, he gestured for them to leave. Jack didn't protest. He didn't want to be around when the mercenaries woke up. They weren't going to be happy, to say the least.
...
...
"Say, Jack," Nicholas began after half an hour of silent riding, "if we do not find this person you are looking for, you are more than welcome to come back with me to my camp."
A touched smile spread across Jack's face. He probably could stay with North, he realised. For a little while, anyway. Once Nicholas became a Guardian he would probably have to go into hiding until time caught up with him again, especially when the past (future?) version of him came into being. But as tempting as it was, he knew it wasn't an option. What kind of life was staying in hiding for centuries? And besides, he had people waiting for him. North was waiting for him. So it wouldn't even be saying goodbye. Not really.
"Thank you," he said after a time, "but I can't."
"I understand," Nicholas replied, a touch wistfully.
Jack fully expected conversation to peter away after that, but as if feeling the need to fill the silence, Nicholas plunged into another tale about one of his many adventures, and Jack listened with rapt attention.
It was well into one of these stories and the sun was starting to set when movement in the corner of his eye caught Jack's attention. There was a man standing between the trees to their left, watching them silently. Nicholas didn't seem to have noticed, and Petrov gave no indication that he had, either.
The man stared Jack in the eye before turning and disappearing further into the forest, glancing back over his shoulder only once. Jack stared after him for several long seconds, biting his lip in indecision. The man would not wait long, he knew, but he really didn't want to say goodbye. He'd thought he'd have more time than this.
With a resigned sigh, Jack jumped down from the saddle, landing in the snow with almost no sound at all. Petrov and Nicholas noticed his absence immediately, stopping and looking back at him.
"Jack?" Nicholas questioned.
Jack glanced towards the trees. The man was nowhere in sight. "I have to go," he said, forcing his attention back to Nicholas and Petrov.
"Go?" Nicholas frowned. "Go where?"
"Home."
His eyes softened with understanding. "You have found your way, then?"
"Yeah," Jack smiled. "My guide is here."
"I hope we will meet again, then, my young friend."
"We will." He knew it with absolute certainty. They already had, technically. Deciding not to draw it out any longer – farewells were hard enough as it was – Jack gave Nicholas and Petrov a parting wave and followed after the man he had spotted earlier. Nicholas and Petrov did not follow.
"It's about time," the man grumbled, arms crossed, when Jack finally caught up to him.
"Sorry, I wanted to say goodbye," Jack shrugged. "How did you know?"
Father Time smoothed imaginary wrinkles from his robe. "A time anomaly is hard to miss. It was as obvious to me as if someone had set off an alarm right in my ear."
Well, that certainly made things easy. "So you'll take me back?"
"To be perfectly honest I should just leave you here as punishment for all those stunts you've pulled over the years – and have yet to pull –"
Jack winced. This was definitely a later version of Father Time then.
"–but that could do irreparable damage to the time stream, and I did promise North I would bring you back in one piece."
Jack perked up at the name. "North?" Had North sent him?
"Yes, North, young one. He came to see me centuries ago – although in relation to this time stream it hasn't even happened yet – to tell me he'd made a prototype for a long-distance globe portal that had sucked you in. He had a strong suspicion about where it had taken you. And here you are."
"Here I am," Jack agreed, but his mind was whirling. So North had remembered him? Even after all those years? He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the little centre doll. Well, perhaps that explained a few things.
Father Time cleared the distance between them in two strides and pulled a pocket watch from around his neck. Without a word, he placed his free hand on Jack's shoulder. As the colours of the forest started to blur and a feeling of being stretched overcame him, Jack forced his eyes shut and tried to think of what he was going to say to North when he got back to his present. After everything, they probably had a lot to catch up on.
Guest Review Responses:
789: (Ch.116:) I thoroughly enjoyed reading your reaction to the chapter XD I'm glad you enjoyed it! And thank you so much! X3 (Ch.117:) Thank you for giving yourself a name besides 'Guest' btw! It can get very confusing when there are multiple guest reviewers without names ^^; That is a very accurate description of Lleu XD Mother Nature would probably not find it anywhere near as amusing as he did...
Larih: Thank you!
Bybu: I'm so pleased you'd been enjoying it! English is the only language I'm fluent in but I think I can get the gist ^w^ Thank you!
Theblackbirdaska: While I think that has the potential to be an awesome chapter, unfortunately the requests are still closed at this time. I've nearly gotten through them all, though, so when I open them again, feel free to remind me ^w^
Guest: (Ch.43:) I found it highly amusing so I couldn't help putting it in. I'm glad you thought it was funny too! XD
Ella Frost: Thank you! I haven't actually read/seen Mrs Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children so I'm not sure I can answer that, sorry!
Guest: (Ch.118:) I just needed a bit of background info. Thank you for your advice, it was helpful! I was pretty proud of it XD And yep I try to be as honest as I can and keep my promises cause you guys deserve that. And I know I'm really hopeless with updating so keeping a current track of where I'm at on my profile for you guys is better than nothing ^^; Thank you!