(Author's Note: I remember one of you asked for a sickfic chapter, and I thought that was a fantastic idea {plus I can't resist the whipped cream, hot fudge, sprinkles, and a cherry on top plea}. So here you go, smurfsandharrypotterrock12! Enjoy, you guys! ~Doverstar)
When most people have a fever, they feel cold on the inside and hot on the outside. For a 14-year-old like Elsa, with ice running through your veins, you'd think it was the opposite. Actually, it was worse. For the first time in a long time, the cold was bothering her. The maids couldn't get her enough blankets.
Jack arrived through the open kitchen door downstairs. When he flew up to Elsa's floor, Anna was positioned as usual outside her sister's room.
She was trying to peek through the keyhole.
"Elsa!" she called. "Do you need anything? I can get you some soup! I can...ummm...I can bring you some tissues! Yeah! And a book! ...Elsa?"
Jack dropped down beside her. "Soup?" He waved a hand in front of her face, knowing it'd do no good. "What's going on, Freckles?"
"She's sick."
Jack jumped. Had she...had she actually heard him? Was he becoming visible?
"I dunno what we're gonna do, Sam."
Oh. The paintings. Dang it.
"She won't answer me." Anna suddenly jerked upright, gasping, backing up through Jack's body. "I bet she's sleeping! Oops. Elsa, are you sleeping? I'm sorry! Keep sleeping! I'll get you that soup!"
She bolted downstairs.
Jack leaned his head against his staff, watching her go. Anna made him laugh. "Sick, huh?"
He opened the door and quickly closed it behind him. The fireplace was roaring in Elsa's large bedroom. He didn't feel the heat.
"Faking it isn't gonna keep her quiet, y'know." Jack chuckled, walking toward the bed.
A sneeze that sounded more like a gag came from the mound of covers.
Jack pulled them back a bit. His head reared. "Woah!"
Elsa's nose was red and raw. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were pale. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She coughed and looked like she was exhaling acid. Her hair was a huge mess-at least what he could see of it beneath the blankets.
"Not faking. Right." Jack ran a hand through his hair. He crouched beside the bed. "Elsa?"
She blinked blearily at him. "I'm cold."
Jack smiled. "Thought the cold didn't bother you, kiddo."
"Fourteen."
He tilted his head. "Huh?"
"M'fourteen. I'm not a kid."
He grinned. "Right."
Jack sat on the bed beside her, leaving his staff on the floor. He was careful not to touch her, knowing he couldn't offer an ounce of warmth.
"Didn't know you were having a sick day," he said quietly, kindly. "How are we gonna practice?"
Elsa coughed and winced. "I did."
Her eyes drifted to the headboard of the bed.
Jack followed her gaze. He sprang up.
The headboard was blue and glittering with frost! At its top a pile of snow was lined. Around the bed, on the ground, frost crawled and hardened. How had he not noticed?
"What happened?"
Elsa stared at him, as if not hearing him. Then she blinked a few times and mumbled, "I practiced because I thought it would keep me awake."
"Awake?"
"I didn't wanna admit to being sick. Then the fever came and it...went everywhere."
"We gotta get this fixed," he cried. "Your sister's gonna be back any minute!"
Elsa groaned. She tried to sit up. Jack gently pushed her back down.
"Just rest," he said. "I'll take care of it."
He picked up his staff and concentrated. He couldn't exude any kind of heat to melt it, but maybe he could reverse it. He'd shot his powers through the staff before, like letting out a big breath he'd been holding. Maybe sucking air in could work the same way.
Jack inhaled very slowly, just for good measure. He pointed the staff at the snow on the headboard. Little by little, the snow vanished.
A knock of five came at the door. "Elsa?"
Jack glanced over his shoulder anxiously. Anna was outside!
"It's chicken noodle!" There was the sound of a spoon sliding around a bowl. "It's chicken noodle and I'm gonna drop it, so can I come in?"
Jack gritted his teeth. The ice hadn't left the floor around the bed, and the headboard was still a mystic blue. Not good. Bad.
"Oh, and I snuck you some chocolate in case you wanted it! We didn't have the kind with fruit on the inside so I just grabbed, you know, everything, and I figured if you were too pukey to eat it I could help! That okay?"
Jack flinched. "No, no no no no," he muttered, fingers tightening around his staff.
"Elsa?"
He bent his head and focused.
"I'm coming in!"
"Just a second!" Jack called, hoping he sounded like one of the servants or something. Then he hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. Idiot! She couldn't hear him!
The door handle jiggled.
Jack pointed the staff at the ice on the floor. "Come on, come on," he mumbled.
Elsa stirred. "What's going on?" she croaked.
Jack didn't answer. "Come on, please..."
He heard a clatter outside.
"Whoops!" Anna yelped.
A thump against the door, probably her knee. He could picture her trying to balance the tray from the kitchens while reaching to turn the door handle.
The ice disappeared. "Yes!"
A small splash echoed in the hall.
"Good thing we have maids," Anna mumbled to herself with a huff of a nervous laugh.
"Woah-soup sliding, soup sliding! Got it. Crisis averted. Elsa, are you awake yet?"
The handle turned at last.
Jack turned all his energy on the headboard. The blue turned back to brown wood, a small circle of it in the center that spread outward until the magic had gone.
He slumped against the wall in relief.
Anna had taken her hand from the handle now. "There go the chocolates. One sec!"
Elsa's head came up. "Anna..."
Jack heard the tray being set down.
"Elsa? Is that you? Omigosh, are you talking to me? That's great! That's...ahem. Did you toss your cookies? Wait. Did we even bake cookies this week? I would've eaten the batter. Except I hate eggs. Remember that one time the chef put too much cheese on my omelette and I picked it up the wrong way and the cheese was all melted? And it just came glopping out in little strings?" She gasped. "This is making you nauseous, right? Sorry! I'm sorry! Think of something good. Like, something not gross. Gross things are gross. Like dead birds. Um, no, wait, not like dead birds! Birds aren't dead! No bead dirds-I mean, dead birds! Those too. ...Okay, sorry. Think of how stupid I am. Right? Not dead birds! O-or cheese. Think stupid Anna! Yeah!"
Jack put a hand over his eyes and laughed from deep in his chest.
"Anyways!"
Drunk with euphoria at the thought of actually having a conversation with her isolated, bed-ridden sister, Anna was determined to continue.
"Are you okay? I brought soup! Be there in a minute, heavy stuff."
Elsa sneezed. She sat up halfway and Jack felt dizzy for her. "No..." she called meekly. "Don't."
You could practically feel Anna's disappointment seeping through the wood.
"But it'll only take a second. I-I'll put my scarf-" her voice became muffled, as if she were doing it now, "-over my mouth and I won't catch it."
"No, Anna! Go away." Elsa was thrown into a bout of coughing.
There was a moment devoid of a response that seemed to stretch forever.
Finally, Anna's voice drifted back to them, with a forced lightness that made Jack's heart sink for her. He knew what it was to force cheerfulness. You did it because you couldn't bear the constant silence.
"Okay. I'll just, I'll eat it...for you. And if you change your mind...I'll come in and-I dunno, tell you jokes or something." A laugh without mirth punctuated her offer.
One hot tear managed to run down Elsa's rosy cheek. "No thank you." Her tone was rough.
Anna's footsteps sounded like their echoes were following each other down the endless halls. Each echo seemed lonelier than the last. How many times a day did Anna hear those steps, feel their ache?
Five minutes later, Jack's gaze was still fixed on the door. Maybe Elsa wasn't the only one who needed him...
A short shriek came from the bed.
Jack rushed to its side. His blue eyes darted across the pile of blankets, underneath which his friend shivered and writhed.
Elsa whimpered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
She was talking in her sleep.
"Come back! I don't know how to...please, Anna...please...wake up...wake..."
Jack tucked the blanket in under her. Should he wake her? Sounded like a nasty sort of nightmare, the kind you get when you've got a nice, shaky fever. Was it dangerous to interrupt her rest?
"Where are your parents, Princess?" he murmured, not trying to rouse her but merely feeling helpless aloud. "How come they're not here for you?"
He left the room, just for a moment, to investigate that. Maybe he could lead them to her room.
Upon searching the house and eavesdropping on the staff, Jack discovered that Elsa's parents had gone out to fetch a doctor themselves.
Anna was in the ball room, chatting to the pictures on the wall, telling them it wasn't Elsa's fault she was sick and that she was probably grumpy because she was hungry. Jack noticed she had left the tray by the bedroom door upstairs, neat and still steaming.
"You're a good kid," he told her, sitting on one end of the lounge seat she was sprawled in, her arms behind her head as she looked up at a picture of a knight. "Don't worry. It'll get better."
Anna, of course, behaved as if he didn't exist. He watched her optimistic smile and her freckles dancing, her honey-colored braids and her love for green velvet. She really was very brave, bright in contrast to the gloom in her life.
Jack hurried back to Elsa's room. If she wouldn't let Anna or the servants in, and her parents were out on an errand, it was up to him to care for her until they got back.
Invisible winter amnesiac will nurse the ice princess back to health and make sure she doesn't freeze the kingdom when she sneezes.
Check.
He got the soup from outside Elsa's door and sat her up to pour a bit into her mouth, the warm broth soothing her throat. She dropped back onto her pillow and continued her fitful sleep. Her eyes had been closed the whole time.
Jack sat on the end of the bed watching over her. Every time she cried out in her sleep, her magic would shoot from her foot or hand, and Jack would patiently undo the damage.
No wonder she didn't want any visitors! A sick Elsa could be as dangerous as she herself always feared. In this state, she had absolutely no control over her powers.
And that wasn't the only thing, she'd lost control of, apparently.
Some people also get delirious when feverish.
Jack was minding his own business. Basically. He'd been sitting there for an hour and was bored to tears, but determined to stick with Elsa. Even if there was loads of mischief to cause around a castle that was currently King-and-Queenless.
He was just playing with his staff in both hands. He hadn't meant to knock the vase off her nightstand with a gust of wind.
Who keeps a vase on their nightstand at fourteen years old anyway? It wasn't his fault.
Nevertheless, while the vase didn't break, he did indeed manage to rouse Elsa.
She was not completely awake. He could tell from the film over her eyes and the tired rasp to her voice.
Well, he couldn't exactly tell right away. Even delirious, Elsa was eloquent and seemed very eager to make sense of some kind.
"What-what-" she glanced around, sitting up, startled by the noise the vase had made clattering to the floor.
Jack crouched in front of her on the ground, beside the head of the bed. "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay-it's just me. See?"
Elsa stared at him with unfocused eyes. "...Jack?"
He nodded and smiled. "How you feeling?"
Elsa blinked. "Do you have...what time is it?"
Jack shrugged. "Little bit past lunch."
"It's cold."
"Well, you got the fire going. Kinda warm in here if you ask me." Not that he could feel it.
"No. Jack. Lunch is cold. I want..."
She coughed a few times and he realized Anna had neglected to get some water when fetching the soup.
"I'm gonna get you a drink. I'll be right back."
Elsa watched him go to the door with huge, horrified eyes. "No!" she suddenly screeched. "Don't go!"
Jack stopped. "I'm just-"
"You can't leave." Elsa started to cry. "Don't leave. I hate it."
"But..." Jack's eyebrows came down in confusion and unplaced pity. "Hate what?"
"Being...here. Alone! You can't go, you promised! It's too cold. I hate it."
That was when he began to realize she wasn't fully awake. Elsa was better than this at hiding her feelings.
"You're gonna be all right," he told her gently. "I'm not gonna go away. Just getting some water."
Elsa buried her face in the pillow and sobbed.
Jack, completely disoriented, went to the bed and put a hand on her blanket mound. "I'm not leaving, Elsa, look. You need a drink, right? Helps the coughing. You wanna stop coughing, don't you?"
Elsa shook her head.
Jack sat on the bed, chortled, and played along. "Then what do you want?"
She said something, but the pillow kept it from him.
"Huh?"
Elsa lifted her head. "You." She turned herself around and sat with all her weight on her palms, looking just past his shoulder, as if he were a bit further away than reality told her. "You stay. Don't leave-I'm going...by myself..."
Jack nudged her very carefully back into a laid-down position. "Go back to sleep, Princess. I'm not going anywhere."
"Yes you are."
"No."
Elsa sat up again like Dracula. "You have to go...back to get water. For lunch. You have to get the water."
He tried to lay her back down, but she kept bobbing up. Poor thing. "You said you wanted me to stay, so I'm staying."
He didn't know how he knew what to say, or how to deal with this. Maybe he was just good with kids? It felt like he must've done things like this before...but that wasn't right. He wasn't anyone before he was Jack Frost, so...
"You're not?" Elsa yawned. "Going. You aren't leaving?"
Jack smiled. "Nah, I'm all yours."
Elsa leaned forward and dropped her forehead against his shoulder, exhausted by this little bit of conversation. He pulled that side of his brown shawl over her to keep her comfortable, not sure it'd do much. It was covered in frost the same way he was. It marked his skin and patterned his tunic. It coated the bottom of his feet and glistened underneath his fingernails. Obviously frost was part of him, not just his given last name.
Elsa mumbled something, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"What was that?" he asked, looking down at his companion.
"You're very warm."
Warm? Jack couldn't help giving her a wide-eyed look. "I'm...I-I'm what?"
"Warm."
His eyebrows lowered halfway over his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Your...the eyes. When you smile. It's in the smile a lot. You're warm, Jack."
You're warm, Jack. The last thing he expected to be said of him. Warm. No he wasn't. He was cold! Ice cold. Bitter. Uncomfortable. Biting. Tingling. Irritating. But never ever warm.
"When did you get so warm, Jack?" Elsa asked, closing her eyes. "Smiling."
Jack put an arm around her shoulders to hold her up. "I dunno." His voice was soft. "Guess I got it from you."
"Okay." Elsa sniffled. "Me."
"Yeah." Jack grinned. "Feel that? I'm melting, Princess." He hugged her sideways, closer with one hand. "You're melting me."
Elsa didn't answer. She was asleep.
Well, no, not quite.
She opened her eyes. "Jack?"
"Yeah."
"You...you're my best friend. Right?"
Jack's heart filled. "Right."
"You won't go away."
"Never."
"Ever." Her eyelids fluttered. "What about water? Lunch water. You forgot to get...the water."
Jack cocked his head. "Want me to get it now?"
"No!" She hugged him with both arms like a cute little toddler with her favorite doll, determined to keep the only person in her room with her at all times.
Jack thought he felt a rib crack, she was squeezing so tightly. Strong for a sick girl. "That cough's gonna get worse, kiddo. I gotta get you a drink."
"M'coming too."
"No, you rest. I promise I'll be right back."
"Jack!"
"What is it?" He stopped at the door, distraught by the panic in her tone.
"Where's Anna?"
"Probably downstairs."
"I..." Elsa gawked at her hands. "She can't come back. I did it."
"No, listen, she's fine. She's okay."
Elsa was looking at him, watching his lips move as he spoke, but not registering what he was saying. "Mama. Papa. What's..."
"They're okay too. It's all right. You're safe. They're safe. I'll be back in a second."
Her hair was sticking up out of her braid. Some of her bangs hung into her eyes. Even bloodshot, she had some really nice eyes. Sick or not, when she wasn't all primped and elegant, it started to dawn on him that his little Elsa was becoming an extremely pretty young royal. Especially those eyes.
Jack caught himself and shook his head a little. The extremely pretty young royal needed him to focus. Moron. "One water, comin' up!" he said cheerfully.
"Hurry," she said sleepily, laying back against her pillows. "It's cold when you're gone."
When Jack came back with the water, Elsa was having a much less fitful slumber. She was breathing normally; some of the color had faded in her cheeks. He needed the recipe for that soup. Genius!
When he set the goblet down on her nightstand, Elsa's eyes opened. They were not in the least bit bloodshot or puffy, but sharp and lively.
She rolled over to look up at him. "Jack?"
Jack waved. "How you feeling?" he whispered.
"When...when did you get here?"
"This morning." Jack's eyebrows knit together. "I've been here all day."
"You don't have to be so quiet. I'm..." Elsa sat up, flustered. "All day?" she repeated. Her voice sounded better too.
"Yeah. Mostly. Got you that water." He held it up and wiggled it a little before handing it to her.
Elsa took a sip and her eyes became brighter. "Thanks."
He sat on the end of the bed. "You don't remember?"
She put the cup down. Then she rubbed her eyes. "Remember what?"
"Uh..." Jack wondered how to explain. It wasn't awkward, it was just difficult. "Anything before now, I guess."
Elsa shook her head and pulled her blanket up around her shoulders. She looked like she was in a blue cocoon.
"Mama and Papa went to fetch a doctor. I said I wasn't sick...then I tried practicing with-you know. And then...I started feeling cold. Really cold, for once." She grunted. "I felt sick and...and I..."
She gasped. Jack ran a hand through his hair.
"Did I-what did I do?" Elsa glanced around the room, edgily leaning over to see the floor. "I couldn't control-"
"I took care of it," Jack said quickly. "It's fine."
Elsa winced. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
She gave her room another once-over. Then she stared at Jack. "You...fixed it?"
He shrugged.
Elsa continued to watch him, making him fidget. "You stayed here." She caught sight of the empty bowl on her nightstand, the extra blanket on her feet. "You were...Jack, were you looking after me? All day long?"
"Well..." He leaned back on his palms. "Sort of. Your sister helped."
Elsa smiled a small, rare smile. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
There was a moment of silence. Then Elsa said nervously, "Did I...'hem, did I throw up?"
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah. Everywhere."
"What?" Elsa looked disgusted. "Really?"
He grinned. "Nah."
"Jack!" She coughed a little, squinting at him in annoyance.
He chuckled. "You got a fever, though."
"I gathered that." Elsa lifted a shoulder. "I don't usually feel cold."
Frost grunted. She was so proper these days. Getting formal. It increased the older she got. He was making a habit of trying to get her to goof around.
Elsa went on, feeling better for using her voice properly. It kept the coughing at bay. "That's prob'ly why I can't remember. When I get fevers, it just takes over everything. I mean, that's what Papa said once."
He nodded. "Everything, huh?"
Elsa caught a hint of amusement in his tone. Uh oh. "What?" If Jack was amused... "What happened?"
Jack's eyes came up. "Not much. You got kind of...off...there for a bit. No worries."
"Did I talk to you?"
"Ah..." Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "A little."
Elsa groaned. "What did I say?"
He chortled.
Oh no. "Was it humiliating? Did I say something...ridiculous? Jack?"
He couldn't stop grinning. She mistook it for teasing and moved to kick him, huffing. "Tell me!"
"Hey!" He put his hands up defensively. "You just didn't want me to go anywhere. You were cold. Nothing ridiculous."
Elsa tilted her head. "So then...why are you smiling?"
Jack picked up his staff. He went to the window and saw the King and Queen's carriage arrive through the gates.
"Jack-why are you smiling?" Elsa demanded.
He glanced back at her. "'Cuz it's warmer that way."
She gave him a confused look. It was like a dog tipping its head to one side. But she was cuter.
With a two-finger salute, Jack let the wind carry him away from the castle for the day, out the window. Elsa's parents could take care of her for the rest of the week if need be. Right now he just wanted to savor this sudden feeling of content-and satisfaction. Bliss. Where did it come from? He wasn't sure. He didn't care. It felt too good to care.
(Next chapter coming up! Anything you'd like to see? Detailed reviews are squealed over! ~Doverstar)