Chapter 4

A/N: Hey guys, I'm back! Get ready for more feels. Jack has some wisdom to share.

Little did I know that very well could have been my last good dream, ever.

I was again in a snowy environment, this time in a cemetery. Since there didn't seem to be anything else to do, I began looking at the gravestones.

I had not been looking long before I was joined...by the same boy I had seen in my last dream. He glided over the treetops before gracefully coming to a stop next to one of the graves—Jackson's, I remembered. I was the one most bedecked with flowers. Somehow I knew that he was drawn to this place. I studied the grave more closely. Jackson Edmund Overland, 1697 to 1712. Protector until the end. I wondered what he had done to deserve this inscription.

The white haired boy next to me began speaking. "Jackson Overland, huh. I wonder who he was." Then, taking another train of thought, "I wonder what they would think of Jack Frost." He paused. "But who am I kidding, Wind? No one would care enough to think about me Jack Frost; I'm just a new spirit with no believers." The wind swirled around him in response, seemingly comforting him.

I finally knew who this was, but I was doubtful. Jack Frost was just an expression; Mom had told me that just yesterday. But there was no denying that he was standing in front of me, looking solemnly down at the tombstones.

I heard a crack behind me and turned; Jack started. A young woman in her twenties, in colonial dress, entered the clearing and strode toward us. Jack quickly backed away reflexively and I followed. She didn't see either of us, and she knelt down at Jackson's grave, placing a new bouquet of flowers at the site. She was crying.

"I—I miss you, Jack. I miss having you protect me from the bullies, and sitting down to dinner with you and Mother, and the fun and snowball fights. Why did you die? Why did you leave me?" Her voice in pitch. "You said you wouldn't play tricks! That was the worst trick of all! Oh, Jack!" she wailed, drawing out the last part, and sobbed.

Jack looked at her uncomfortably. "I wish I could help her. Why does she keep coming if it does this to her?" He didn't expect an answer.

"Emma," he said, cautiously kneeling down beside her, "It's okay. I don't know who your brother was, but I don't think he would want you to be torturing yourself like this. You talked about the fun times. Remember those, instead of tearing yourself up with grief." He created a snowflake and made it land on her nose. It dissipated with little blue sparkles and seemed to make her feel better.

"Yeah, I guess you were right," she said. Jack gasped and jumped back. "Can you—can you hear me?"

She continued, "You always tried to find the fun in everything. I," she paused, "I will try to do the same, for you, even though I still miss you as much as ever."

Jack sighed. "Still no believers." The wind blew gently.

At that moment, the scene in front of me blurred, and I rubbed my eyes until it cleared again. I was still in the same grave yard, but it was spring now, instead of winter. There was a new grave next to Jackson's. I knelt down and read it. Emma Lacey Overland, 1703-1767. Loved by all and lover of her family. A single icy blue flower adorned the headstone.

I barely had time to process this before everything turned to black and I was sucked into a nightmare.

A/N: Cliffy! (Evil laugh) No really, this is only Jamie's dream. Can anyone guess what is going on when the Nightmare…

Well, takes over his dream.

Because we all know that's what happened (spoilers!)

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Jacqueline