Hey guys! Sorry for the lack of update last week. Once again, schoolwork dragging me down...ugh.

BUT I'm back now, and now it's time for the reviews! Huge thanks go out to Yukomin (Well...that's one word for it :), NotCanadian (Haha! My lifelong dream is now complete! :D), Randomly Talented (...well you're not wrong XD), BooksAreMedicine, Vivid Reader, Brenne, yummypie193, Serami Nefera, Scout (...*suddenly forgets every movie ever made* Haha, kidding. Hm...not sure how many of these you've seen or not, but a few movies I personally like other than ROTG are Big Hero 6, Guardians of the Galaxy, Anastasia, Treasure Planet, The Emperor's New Groove...things like that, lol), jackandelsaforever101, Guest (Ah, thank you!), Guest (Oh, no, that's a bit of a misunderstanding there. I checked back, and I only had the Nightmare attempt to break Jack's staff-he got it out of the way just in time. Thanks though!), All-Good-Marauders, Hagane Ookami, Guest, and Sylfelf!

Without further ado, on with the chapter!

Chapter 34: Home

Nightmares about that night had plagued him for a long time. No matter how many nights passed, his subconscious always returned to the night his life drastically changed forever. He could not keep the acrid stench of smoke from stinging his nose, nor the sinister glow of flames from searing his eyes.

He was not explicitly afraid of all fire, however. He did not mind seeing the small, controlled flames of fireplaces, candles, and the like, though he did well to avoid them due to a snow sprite's natural susceptibility to heat.

Unfortunately, this did not mean his fear was completely nonexistent. It would have to exist for the nightmares to haunt him so, of course. However, only a miniscule twinge of it was directed at fire itself.

Most of his fear was simply for the past.

Though he wished he could return to the far, far past, he was terrified of more recent events. He feared that moment, the moment when his entire childhood and way of life had been stolen from him. He had never gotten used to it, and doubted that he ever would. So instead, he ran.

He did not even try to deny the fact that he was running. He did not care about appearing tough; everyone had already formed their opinions of him, even before meeting him, so what was the point? All he needed was to get away and stay alive.

So he ran.

()()()()

Jack could feel the snow beneath his hands and knees, but was not sure when exactly he had fallen. All he could focus on were his futile attempts to keep his increasingly heavy breathing under control.

He had not laid eyes on this place since he had been caught in the fire six years ago. It looked almost unrecognizable from how it had once been, and yet somehow, he knew. Jack knew that this was the place that had once been his home.

And he could not have been more horrified.

()()()()

Smoke stung his eyes-

-burning-

"-your sister and-"

"-gotta get out-!"

"RUN!"

()()()()

Memories flashed through his mind, and suddenly he was having trouble discerning what was real or not. Was that North calling his name? Was his sister screaming for him to run? Was he surrounded by smoke? Could he breathe? No...he could not. Perhaps the smoke was real.

()()()()

-embers flying-

"-no escape-"

-ran like a deer-

-blaze engulfing his home-

-crying—

()()()()

What about the tears streaking down his face? Were they real? He hoped not, though if the smoke was real, perhaps the tears were too. Or was the smoke merely his imagination? Then why did his throat burn? Perhaps he truly was crying.

()()()()

-torches-

-crushing reality-

-shattered world-

-tall shadow-

"Not a soul shall stand in my way."

()()()()

He heard a scream of anguish. It took him some time to figure out that it had come from his own throat.

D-Damn it… he thought, struggling to regain some semblance of mental clarity. G-Gotta...p-pull it...together…

But he couldn't. His mind seemed to be in complete disarray, refusing to order his body to perform even the simplest of tasks. Panic flooded every ounce of him as he clutched at his own cloak, desperate for some sort of lifeline to hold onto.

Suddenly, something constricted his movements, and by instinct, he fought back. The air grew colder as he thrashed, signaling a rare display of the boy's ice magic. Adrenaline coursed through him, sending every sense into overdrive-save for his vision, as his eyes were tightly squeezed shut in an attempt to block out the flashbacks.

"-ack!"

What was that sound? Was someone calling out? Who-?

"Ja-!"

There it was again. The voice sounded rather close to him, and suddenly he realized that the things wrapped around him could potentially be someone's arms. But whose?

"Jack!"

That. That was his name. His name was being called. Whoever was holding him definitely knew him. But were they friend or foe? They sounded concerned...friend, perhaps?

"JACK!"

The voice was North's. Logically, if someone was calling out to him in North's voice, then that someone would have to be North himself. Indeed, it was friend, not foe.

For a moment, Jack forgot himself.

For a moment, he was eleven again.

For a moment, he let his carefully constructed barriers fall.

He clung to the front of North's coat, sobbing louder than he would ever care to admit. At the moment, however, he could not possibly care less.

Perhaps there was something wrong with him. Maybe his mind had been broken beyond repair. All he knew for sure was that his level of resentment for North and the other Guardians had been slowly decreasing since their first meeting, and now, it all but plummeted. He told himself that he would return to acting cold to them once the storm in his mind had passed. Now, however, he needed the four immortals he had admired as a child.

Jack had not cried this much since his first few years on his own. It seemed that years of emotional suppression had not made him stronger in the slightest; they had merely served as floodgates susceptible to crumbling under just the right amount of pressure. He figured he should have known something like this would eventually happen.

He felt like a fool.

"Easy, Jack…" he heard North tell him gently. "Easy...it is alright...you are alright…"

No, Jack wanted to tell him. I'm not "alright". Nothing's "alright". How could you tell me that things are "alright"!?

But for some reason, his voice wouldn't work. His already aggravated throat only burned more painfully with each anguished sob he let out. Jack couldn't tell how long he had been crying for. A few minutes, perhaps? Hours?

Finally, his cries tapered off into soft, raspy whimpers, and he felt himself be lifted up off the ground. The boy never loosened his grip on North's coat, even as they walked away from the cursed place. He vaguely felt a bit uncomfortable about all of the Guardians being able to see him in this state, but wasn't overly concerned about it at the time.

Soon, he felt the familiar softness of the blankets within his tent enfold him as he was set down, and he let out another soft whimper as the coat fabric slipped out of his fingertips. He had never felt more like weak, defenseless child.

However, there wasn't much time to consider this notion, as a soothing drowsiness that could have only been caused by dreamsand washed over him. Jack curled up in his blankets, drawing his cloak tightly around him in the process, for once not caring about his actions being a blow to his pride.

Within seconds, he was asleep.

()()()()

Words could not describe how much Jack hated himself upon waking up. He had calmed significantly since his breakdown, now only feeling a few times more on edge than usual, but remembered every second of his lapse of common sense.

I cried, he thought numbly. I cried, and I hugged North. Hugged him. What is wrong with me!?

Logically, he knew that he had suffered some form of trauma upon laying eyes on the remains of his village. He knew that the persistent nightmares he often had were testament enough to this fact, and his recent experience only served to lock the theory in place.

Still, he couldn't swallow the painful lump in his irritated throat, and there was a certain stinging sensation behind his eyes that he would rather not put a name to. As he lay there, eyes closed, even his thoughts seemed shaky, his inner voice trembling along with the rest of him.

I broke down...and I let them see it… he thought. I broke down...I'm not strong enough to keep it under control...I'm...I'm not in control...I don't think I ever was…

He didn't want to face the Guardians. He didn't want to have to leave the tent and face their words of comfort; sugarcoated soothing would only make him feel worse. The only thing he really wanted was to sneak out undetected and run, never once looking back.

Of course, that wasn't an option.

That would only make me more of a coward… he acknowledged reluctantly. Besides...where would I go…? Would I just keep running…? With all that's happened...the Guardians...the Nightmares...O-Onyx...L...L-Livi...things, they...they can't go back to the way they were...I...I don't...I don't want to be alone anymore…

There. He said it. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted company. He wanted to be able to have fun again. He knew he was succumbing to everything he had feared at the start, and he despised it.

They did it… he thought miserably. They actually did it...they made me want to stick around. I tried so hard to stay apathetic and distant...I tried so hard to escape...and yet here I still am. This shouldn't be happening...they captured me...they bound me...but they're the Guardians. Why can't I shake off my old childish admiration for them…? I resent them for the way they treated me at first, yes, but...a part of me still feels like perhaps they weren't at fault…

He grimaced slightly, still keeping his eyes firmly shut. They were definitely partially at fault...but perhaps not entirely. 'Twas a severe misunderstanding set in place by the Nightmare King himself, after all...everyone in Soluna was fooled by it…

Jack let out a soft sigh, the scowl on his face fading into sadness. I still have no idea why, though...I don't know why snow sprites were framed...I don't know what the Nightmare King's plans for the children he captured are...and now I can't even go to his lair to find out...I can't walk through that place, I can't…

The young sprite frowned. Then...then I won't walk through. As regrettable as the notion is...I'll have them restrict my senses once more, then have them carry me through...then I won't know when we'll be in there...we'll be down under that bed before I even know it. 'Tis embarrassing, but…'tis the only way…

That being said, he took a deep breath and sat up, opening his eyes. For whatever reason, he was not surprised to see Sandy a little ways away, obviously watching over him just in case something were to happen. He and the other two had no doubt been informed of what had occurred when Jack had laid eyes on the remains of the village.

The Sand-Spinner looked at Jack curiously for a long moment. Then, as though he knew what the boy was thinking about, he very slightly raised his golden eyebrows.

Due to the pain in his throat, Jack couldn't speak quite yet, but the azure intensity in his crystalline eyes conveyed everything he needed to know. He took a deep breath.

I'm ready, Guardians...are you?

Little short, but I hope you guys enjoyed it all the same! I'll see you guys next time for Chapter 35!

'Til then, Sapphire316, out