A/N: Sorry for the wait, I've been crazy busy. The White Wings replacement is nearly done. Requests are being filled slowly but surely. I have another story at the moment. Writing is being done!

You guys really liked the letter two chapters ago. It will be continued eventually, but this chapter wanted to be written first.

Disclaimer: It's not like I make money off of this story. . . Nor do any of the authors on this site. . .

Tattered and Worn Soul

It was in the tilt of his head. The glint in his eyes. The lilt in his laughter. The movement of his graceful limbs. In his dazzlingly white smile. The way his tongue stuck out when he was concentrating. The way he filled everyone around him with fun.

You could tell that Jack Frost was a worn soul.

It was hard to notice, but it was there if you took the time to watch him. Or, if your name was Sanderson Mansnoozie.

Being silent often led you to noticing other things. Sandy was no exception. Details were his life.

Jack was a frequent subject of his inspections. The boy tried so hard, but his emotions showed whether he wanted them to or not. He wore his heart on his sleeve, though he was not proud of it often. But it wasn't just the blatant feelings Sandy was mesmerized by. It was the way the boy reacted and moved and existed.

The boy was nowhere near being an old spirit (Both Bunny and Sandy had eons on him), but something about him suggested it.

The worst part was that Sandy knew what caused it.

The isolation. The loneliness. The time without anything to live for. The unconcealed hatred he received from numerous spirits.

It hurt.

It hurt to know why the boy was so damaged. To have not noticed it when he'd met the boy before.

But, there was solace within the pain.

It was the fact that no matter how old and tattered Jack was, he'd kept his childish spirit.

It was a while before this manifested itself in Jack, but when it did, all of the Guardians recognized it for what it was.

Jack was an immortal child in so many ways. But in others, he was ancient and threadbare.

It was almost an oxymoron.

But somehow, it made Jack all that more lovable.

"Ah, Sandy! Welcome back!" North jollily clapped him on the back.

It was his signature greeting for every bi-weekly meeting. Sandy smiled back before heading for the family room's couch and reaching for the eggnog.

A few years back, they'd met in the globe room, but now this room better served their purposes. For one, they weren't being constantly interrupted by yetis, and for another, they were all more comfortable.

Sandy smiled as he recalled how the yearly meetings became bi-monthly, and then monthly, and now were officially every other week. It was all Jack's fault. . . well, no it was more of North's, but Jack was the cause. Ever since the boy had become a Guardian, it was up to them to "train him up", not that he needed that much help to begin with. In fact, he'd bet they'd learned more from Jack than the other way around.

The Guardian of Dreams shook his head, startled to find just how off subject he'd gotten, just alone in his thoughts.

He sipped from the cup in his hands, looking back over the room.

A fireplace roared on one end (they'd learned quite soon not to let Jack near it for too long – they'd have to deal with sleepy winter spirit if they did), with an enormous window just above the couch Sandy was sitting on.

North's large chair was on the left side of a circle of seats, with a chair for Tooth next to it, just in case she ever felt the need to land. On the right was a black shaded loveseat, which a certain Boogeyman claimed whenever he was forced to go to these meetings ("I'm not a Guardian! I don't even like you!" "Vho cares? Ve vill make you an honorary one!"). The sofa Sandy was currently seated on was his, Jack's, and Bunny's when the other two were not lounging and/or wrestling on the floor or sitting on Pitch.

A large, soft rug covered the hardwood, and "family photos" decorated the mantle, walls, and ceiling. (No one was quite sure how North got them up there.) All in all, it was a proper family room.

A loud growl and laughter interrupted his thinking.

Sandy sighed as the duo of trouble, otherwise known as Bunny and Jack, raced into the room, a certain Pooka sopping wet.

"FROST!"

The chase continued as Bunny attempted to tackle the flying spirit, all the while flinging water all over the place.

"Hop to it rabbit! You'll never catch me like this!"

Sandy silently groaned as Jack issued the challenge. Honestly, those two were the most competitive beings he'd ever met.

"Oh yeah?" And just like that, Bunny leapt onto the couch, managing to twist around midair and slammed into a winter spirit. The two crashed to the ground, a certain Pooka landing on bottom.(That was totally on purpose, Bunny would never have let Jack land on bottom if he could help it.) Neither appeared hurt, so Sandy kept to himself, not wanting to get in that mess of fur, hair, hoodies, and water.

Of course, that moment was when Tooth flew into the room, gasping in surprise as she got a good dousing of water on her as Bunny attempted to shake the water off onto Jack.

"Boys! What are you doing?!"

Two sets of eyes nervously settled upon the fairy, before glancing at one another and pointing at the person opposite them.

Tooth huffed in irritation.

Thankfully for the two troublemakers, North chose that moment to walk in, an unwilling Pitch being dragged along behind him.

The Nightmare King scowled murderously as he was manhandled into the room. He knew that fighting would lead him nowhere, but that didn't stop him from trying every now and again.

With everyone now present, North began the meeting,

"Ah! All here? Let's start! . . . Bunny . . . Ah . . .Why are you all fluffy?"

Bunny frowned at him, pointing an accusing paw at Jack, "He got me all wet!" Somehow the complaint came out more like a whine.

North just shook his head, glancing at Jack's deceivingly innocent face. He sighed,

"Alright . . . Tooth, why don't you report first?"

The meeting continued on as normal, Tooth giving a concise statement about the teeth collection, North going on and on and on and on about toy production, Bunny simply stating that "everythin' was goin' alrigh'", Pitch refusing to report anything, Sandy playing a game of Pictionary as he tried to inform everyone about the dreams, and Jack falling asleep in Bunny's lap before his turn arrived.

Everyone (except Pitch, who refused to stoop to their levels), smiled softly down at the slumbering boy. Sandy handed Bunny a blanket, kept just for this purpose. The Pooka wrapped it gently around the boy before carding a paw through the mop of hair. Jack unconsciously leaned into the touch.

Tooth tilted her head, "It's so odd to see him sleeping sometimes."

Sandy nodded in agreement, " Running figure, jumping figure, laughing figure."

"Sandy's right," North murmured, "boy is always on the go."

"'Till he falls asleep," Bunny added.

Pitch gave a slight snort, attracting attention to himself. Noting the confused glances his way he spoke,

"Well, isn't it obvious? Jack still acts like a child. It makes sense that he only slows down when he's sleeping."

Everyone smiled a bit, recognizing that Pitch was really the only one of them who'd had practical experience raising a child. Not that he could remember it at all, even after Tooth had tried helping him regain lost memories.

"Yeah," Tooth agreed quietly, "except for sometimes. . . sometimes he acts so . . . old."

Everyone nodded in agreement, recognizing the short times in which the tattered and worn Jack was shown.

Sandy stared silently at the ground, feeling that he was the only one of them who really noticed all of those small moments.

The room dissolved into companionable hush, all of them off with their own thoughts.

After a while, Tooth whispered, "I need to get back. You too Sandy."

The Master of Dreams nodded, shifting from his position to run a hand through Jack's hair before leaving. Tooth kissed Jack's forehead before following.

Pitch disappeared soon after, using his shadows to escape the Pole. North vacated the room when Bunny started to slumber alongside the boy, but not before wrapping a blanket around the Pooka's shoulders.

Sound asleep, Jack reflexively smiled, his brain somehow incorporating the words the Guardians had whispered into his dream.

Yes, Jack was a worn and tattered soul, but he was slowly being put back together, piece by piece, by his family.