(The pun version of this chapter's title is Deathiance in case any of you were interested)

This chapter was requested by Guest. It is now late and I must sleep but enjoy!

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Defiance

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The connection between winter and death was one that couldn't be denied, even in Jack's mind. Winter was a time when the world slowed down; the landscape changed, in some places became completely barren, the weather was often hostile, the cold clung to everything it could reach and seemed to sap all the warmth from it, and a combination of all of this was a recipe for disaster. It was no accident that winter and death were often associated, even if such a comparison had become less common as time went on.

But that was winter. And, as Mother Nature had once told him, Jack may have been winter but winter wasn't him. Jack's winter was a very different story: it was bright and fun, a promise for good times rather than hardships. Nevertheless, where winter lurked, so too did death.

It was a rare occurrence for Jack Frost to encounter Death's embodiment, not least because Jack went well out of his way to avoid the latter. He had no qualms about rearranging an entire day's plans simply because he thought he spotted a familiar dark cloak or the shine of a scythe between the trees. It wasn't that he was worried Death would try anything – he was fairly sure his status as both a nature spirit and a Guardian granted him some considerable immunity – but this reassurance did nothing to calm his nerves when faced with such an ominous presence. Death had always made him uncomfortable.

There were some days, however, when it simply wasn't possible to turn the other way and pretend he hadn't seen anything. Today was one of those days.

A shadowy movement, like the flutter of a cloak, darted across Jack's peripheral vision and he stopped in his tracks, arm still poised to throw the snowball in his hand. His gaze instinctively sought out the source. There! On the street corner–!

Something cold slammed against his cheek. Jack startled, attention forcefully returned to the ongoing fight. He took less than a second to confirm that it was Jamie who had thrown the snowball before his gaze once again sought out the figure he was so certain he'd seen. But the street corner was vacant. If anyone had been there, they were gone now.

"Jack?"

The game around him had fallen away, and the group of teens were watching him with open concern. Jack plastered on an apologetic smile and tried to pretend that the unease that had settled over him wasn't real. After all, it couldn't possibly be who he'd thought it had been. He was just being paranoid.

"Sorry, thought I saw someone," he said.

"Saw who?" Jamie asked, eyes darting between Jack and the vacant street corner.

'An acquaintance' was probably not an accurate description. It implied neutrality, which Jack felt was decidedly not what their relationship (or lack thereof) could be described as. "Just someone I'd rather not talk to." And who I would prefer stayed well away from you guys.

The teens didn't seem to like this response, if the suspicious looks they were giving him were anything to go by. Not wanting to let it ruin the fun, Jack lobbed the snowball he was still holding at Pippa, who responded with one of her own, and in a matter of moments the park went back to being a warzone. Eventually, the incident slipped from his mind completely. But not for long.

Throughout the day, as soon as he thought he might have simply imagined it, Jack would spot the same hooded figure in the corner of his eye. Always distant, but always there. And it was obvious that they were watching. He knew he was becoming increasingly antsy as the day drew on, and the teens were starting to pick up on it and become antsy themselves, but somehow telling them that the embodiment of death was stalking them just didn't seem like a very good idea. But why would Death suddenly take such an interest?

And then it dawned on him.

Death wasn't just here in Burgess for no reason, and he definitely wasn't lurking around in the corners of Jack's vision to unsettle him. He was here for his job. And his job somehow involved one of the kids.

Not on my watch, Jack swore, sending a glare in Death's direction that he hoped conveyed all the protective fury he was feeling. No one threatened kids and got away with it when he was around. Especially these kids.

.

.

They were heading back towards Jamie's house when the very thing Jack had been paranoid about finally happened. The snowball war had long since ended, but the spirit of snowball war had carried on, although it had devolved into shoving handfuls of snow down each other's shirts and dropping large heaps of snow on each other's heads. So far, Jack had managed to avoid being attacked. Monty, however, was nowhere near as lucky.

A massive snowball was dumped onto the poor boy's head and he cried out in surprise, his attempts at wiping it away only managing to get it down his shirt.

"Ah! Cold! Cold!" he tugged frantically on his vest, trying to dislodge as much of the ice as he could, as he jumped up and down, as if that would somehow help. The others laughed good-naturedly and carried on trying to one-up each other, ultimately unconcerned.

Jack, too, didn't think anything of it until Monty's foot suddenly slid out from under him when he stepped on a particularly icy patch of ground. He teetered dangerously, and in his attempt to correct his balance his other foot slipped off the edge of the sidewalk. He staggered backwards, still trying to save himself from falling but unable to do anything but keep moving.

He finally came to a stop in the middle of the street when gravity eventually won, breathing heavily and shaking from the adrenaline. He visibly struggled to get to his feet, a combination of his shaking nerves and the icy road hindering his progress. Already the others were hurrying towards him, ready to help him up and make sure he was okay. A car horn drowned out their cries, and with rising horror Jack realised what was about to happen.

Death stood on the other side of the road, watching.

Wind whipped at the surrounding snowdrifts and nearly bowled the kids over as Jack launched himself forwards, pushing himself and the wind to go faster than they ever had before. All he could think of, all he could focus on, was the desperate need to reach Monty in time. Tyres screeched and skidded along the road. The kids screamed out.

Jack felt his hand clamp around the collar of Monty's vest and without a second thought launched them both towards the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. Behind them, the car swerved dangerously before finally coming to a halt a few hundred metres further up the road even as Jack and Monty tumbled painfully into the window of a shop. The glass, mercifully, held, and together they sagged heavily to the ground.

Jack let out a heavy breath, a hand on his chest. His heart was beating so forcefully he wondered how it hadn't burst yet. He rolled his head to the side. Monty was sprawled beside him, as white as a sheet.

"You okay?" Jack forced out.

Monty managed a shaky nod, but Jack didn't quite buy it. But he was forced to admit that badly shaken with a few bumps and bruises was infinitely better than dead.

The rest of the teens were already sprinting over to them, as well as the driver of the car – a middle aged man who looked equal parts furious and worried. Jack let his gaze drift over to where Death had been, only to find the spectre gone. Somehow, it wasn't as relieving as Jack felt it should have been.

.

.

Jack leaned against the trunk of a tree by his lake, head tilted back and eyes closed. It was night now, well after the kids had all returned home. He'd ensured they'd gotten there safely – particularly Monty, who would probably take a day or two to recover from the shock of it all – and then retreated back here. He wasn't sure why he lingered – there were other places in need of snow days – but he did. Maybe he would take a day or two to recover, too.

'You should not have interfered.'

Jack was on his feet in an instant, staff held defensively in front of him even as he strained his eyes in the darkness in search of the source of the voice. He didn't have to look hard; even now, Death's presence commanded Jack's attention. It was almost like he could feel where the other was standing. Maybe he could.

"I'm a Guardian and he's my friend. I wasn't about to sit back and watch," Jack returned with no small amount of hostility. His instincts screamed at him to flee.

'Every creature has its time. You cannot protect all of them, and certainly not forever,' Death took a step towards him, emerging from the shadows between the trees. Jack resisted the urge to step back as they approached.

"Maybe not," he conceded, "but that won't stop me from trying."

'You would be wise to not obstruct my duties again, Jack Frost.' There was a noticeable level of enmity in Death's tone. They looked up at the night sky. The moon was completely blocked out by cloud cover. 'Perhaps I should take back what was so insultingly snatched from me. Your time is well overdue.'

This time Jack did step back, only to find he'd unintentionally cornered himself against the tree he'd been leaning against earlier. He could try to flee, he knew, but it wouldn't stop Death for long if they truly sought to claim his soul.

Death reached out towards him. The wind tugged furiously at his hoodie, screaming at him to fly, but Jack found himself paralysed. Fear rooted him to the spot. Even if he could form a thought clear enough, it was already too late.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Death's hand stilled, fingertips merely centimetres away from Jack's face, and turned towards the source of the voice. Jack, likewise, forced his head to turn. Standing a short distance away, deep in the shadows and surrounded by Nightmares, was Pitch Black.

Jack had never felt so relieved to see anyone in his entire life.

Death offered no response, but it had obviously been a rhetorical question. Without warning, they spun away, cloak flying with the movement.

'You will not escape me forever,' they said, only loud enough for Jack to hear, and then disappeared into the darkness.

As soon as Death vanished from view, Jack sagged bonelessly against the tree and slid to the ground, closing his eyes and trying to remember how to breathe. Absently, he heard soft footsteps moving across the clearing before finally coming to a halt directly in front of him.

"Well, you're a pathetic sight. But, then, I suppose that's nothing new."

Jack didn't even have it in him to come up with a snarky retort. He forced his eyes open and looked up at his unlikely saviour. He'd expected to see a smirk on Pitch's face, and so was surprised to find him looking uncharacteristically serious.

"What are you doing here?" Jack found himself asking.

"I couldn't very well ignore a fear that strong. I came to find the source."

Jack weakly lifted his arms in a vague sort of gesture. "Ta-da."

Pitch crossed his arms, decidedly unimpressed. Silence stretched between them.

"Thank you," Jack said at length. "If you hadn't turned up…" He hated to think what might have happened. He very much doubted Death would have restrained themself like they did that first time, especially when the moon wasn't in sight.

Pitch's face contorted strangely and he turned away. "I was merely investigating a powerful fear, nothing more," he said. "If I'd known it was you I would have stayed home."

Jack couldn't stop the smile that forced its way onto his face. He highly doubted Pitch hadn't known exactly whose fear he'd sensed, but he was already pushing his luck as it was so he kept his teasing remark to himself and let Pitch maintain the façade he'd been working increasingly hard to uphold.

Somehow, though, it seemed like Pitch knew exactly what he was thinking because he took one look at Jack's expression and scowled. "I have things to do," he said. They sounded like parting words, but Pitch made no obvious attempts to leave.

In fact, it wouldn't be for nearly half an hour before they went their separate ways, and it wouldn't be Pitch who left first.

Guest Review Responses:

Guest: (Ch.21:) To be fair I would react the same way if I were in his shoes (Ch.24:) I am equal parts very sorry and also really not haha (Ch.40:) It's a fun concept haha (Ch.85:) Thank you! (Ch.87:) Ikr! I was surprised too! But nope apparently they're not, though they are still arachnids (Ch.92:) Haha thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it XD Arc and I had a lot of fun writing it

datboi: Yessssss that is exactly what I was referencing! I get so excited when other people get the reference XD It's my favourite poem and I thought it was just so fitting. Thank you! X3

TheRealGuest: Awwww thank you! Yeah I think the most beneficial part about writing this series is just how much of an improvement I've seen in my own writing. And the more I write the better I'll get so! Haha sorceress ;) I find the easiest way to deal with accents is to really hear the way the sentences will be spoken aloud. Like, for an Australian accent, 'ya' is a common way of saying 'you' but it doesn't always work so you can't replace every 'you' with 'ya'. (To take an example from an older chapter, it might be tempting to write a sentence like 'Not as sorry as you' as 'Not as sorry as ya' but if you say that out loud, 'sorry as ya' reeeeally doesn't quite work and it would be better to have it as 'you'). Being an Australian definitely helps tho haha

EriTheBear: Aw bless your soul :33

Painapple: Yes indeedy

RotGIsMyLife: Thank you!

Guest: (Ch.120:) Sorry it takes me so long I am terrible ^^; Aaaaa thank you so much! I was really worried about including OCs (especially since I myself am usually not a fan of them) but Idk I couldn't help myself haha. So I'm glad people like them so much!