A/N: Forgot to do this in Chapter One:
Disclaimer: I do not own "Rise of the Guardians" or anything of the sort. The only thing I own is the idea for this story and any OCs that may or may not erupt from it. Said OCs will be easily picked out. So there. I own nothing. No suing allowed.
Ch. 2
It had been ten years since his 'birth.' Ten years of being walked through. Ten years of desperate attempts at being noticed. Ten years without anyone to talk with, laugh with. Ten years without a caring hand to help him when he over-exerted or hurt himself.
Well, that wasn't quite true. Four years ago, he met The Sandman.
************************Into The Past We Go************************
Jack curled around his staff in the center of his lake, crying tiny tears of hail. He had just returned for the winter season, eager to bring the first snowfall to the small village nearby. For reasons he didn't understand, Jack loved that village and its people. They were nice and the children loved to play games. One sweet girl played the most, seeming to make it her mission to make the other children and even the adults laugh at a wide range of antics. Jack loved her most of all. She, he knew, kept the children's spirits up when Jack was elsewhere in the world, playing games and acting foolish to bring smiles to their village.
So when the Wind brought him back, he was eager to find his sweet girl and the others. He touched down at the center of the lake first, bare feet causing a thin layer of ice to begin forming. His first step forward caused the ice to thicken, his second leaving it so thick a bear wouldn't have been able to fall through. He skated along the newly frozen surface for a few minutes, delighting in the frost patterns that formed under his guidance. Task complete, he leapt back into the Wind's embrace and flew above the tree tops to the village. Jack had wanted the ground to be well and truly covered with his element before night fully fell. He had wanted to hear the joy in the children's voices as fat soft snowflakes coated the ground and frost covered the windows. He wanted to see his sweet girl's bright eyes and smile as she ran out and spun in the snowfall until she fell, dizzy and giggling. What greeted him was a nightmare.
The village was empty. The cabins were dark and cold, the square where communal fires had burned a year ago empty. Broken barrels and scattered sticks seemed to reach for Jack like skeletal arms. Panicked, the winter spirit darted from house to house, peering into windows and open doors, desperately searching for the villagers he loved and played with, for his sweet girl and her beautiful smile. But of them there was no sign.
Distraught, he searched for any sign of where they had gone, when they were coming back. Every hearth was cold, shelves dusty and earthenware bowls cracked from disuse and neglect. He searched the surrounding fields and woods, fear pricking his heart as every corner turned revealed nothing. Finally, in the furthest field from the village, he found his sign.
Dozens of small wooden crosses protruded from the ground. Some stood tall, silent guardians over their charges, while others were cock-eyed and sagging, a few even fallen over, as if weighed down by an incredible sorrow.
Jack knew what those crosses were. Six years of life and traveling the world had taught him a great deal. Those crosses marked where humans were lain beneath the earth in wooden boxes. The boxes looked uncomfortable, but mustn't have been, for the humans in them were sound asleep. The crosses, Jack decided, marked those sleeping humans' beds in the ground. They had to be very comfortable beds, because once a human was placed in their wooden box and settled in the ground, they slept for a very long time. Jack hadn't seen one rise yet.
He didn't want his villagers to sleep, though. They were supposed to be running and playing, enjoying the snow he brought. He wanted to play with the children, to tease and run and play tricks with them. He wanted his sweet girl and her dizzy spinning, her laughter and smile. Kneeling next to one of the crosses, he tapped the wood with his staff.
"Hello? Are you awake down there?" No answer came forth. Jack huffed and moved to another, repeating the question at every cross until he'd tapped and asked each the same. No one answered him. Not even his sweet girl.
Sitting on his heels before the field of crosses, Jack frowned unhappily. Nowhere else had he ever seen the entire population laid in their earth beds all at once. The Wind wrapped around him, trying to pull him away, but Jack struggled. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay with his sleeping villagers until they woke up. But the Wind was insistent, so Jack let his silent companion lift him and bring him back to his lake. He got the feeling the Wind knew something about the sleepers, but being ever silent, would not be able to tell him. Instead, he played on his lake, skating and forming more frost patterns on the glassy surface and surrounding trees and rocks until the Moon was high in the sky and the entire forest was covered in snow and frost and ice. Only then did Jack look up at the Moon.
The great orb gazed back at him indifferently. "When will they wake up?" His voice quivered as some forgotten or unknown fear twisted his gut and clenched at his heart. He didn't understand why he was afraid, he only knew that he wanted answers. He wanted to know why his villagers were all sleeping at once in the earth. The Moon did not answer him. The Moon never answered him.
Sighing, Jack shifted his gaze to the stars, and that was when he saw it. A golden cloud was sitting among the steal grey clouds that bore his snow. Tendrils of gold flowed from the strange glowing cloud and stretched farther than Jack could see.
Curious as all children, the snow sprite called the Wind and rose above the trees and empty village, flying swift and silent to the strange golden cloud.
As he got closer, he could see a small man on the cloud, waving his hands and seeming to direct the golden streams to wherever they were going. Intrigued, Jack hurried to the little man's side. He hovered just behind the golden man and his strange cloud and just watched as they other weaved the strands from his own body as well as the cloud. One wove past Jack's nose and circled his head. Jack reached out and caressed what he now realized was golden sand with his fingers. Immediately that single thread widened and formed little waves. More sand joined the waves and formed the strange yet graceful fish Jack had glimpsed once when he skimmed over the ocean a few seasons ago.
Unable to help himself, Jack laughed as the odd fish jumped through the sandy waves and swam around his body. His joyful giggles alerted the golden man to his presence.
The short and round man turned around but didn't look startled. Instead, he gave Jack a sleepy smile and waved. Jack smiled back shyly.
The little man was a spirit like Jack, that much the boy knew. Only other spirits could see him, although none of them seemed to like him. This sleepy man didn't seem to mind Jack, though, if his smile and gesture to sit on the cloud was anything to go by.
Jack alighted at the little man's feet and smiled again into those sleepy eyes. "Hi, I'm Jack Frost. What's your name?"
The little man looked startled at that. Then he gestured to the cloud of sand around them and to himself. Jack didn't understand and cocked his head to the side in question. The little man pursed his lips then smiled again. He scooped some of the sand into his hand, pointing to it, then, above his head, an image of a man appeared, which he pointed to as well. He repeated the gesture several times before Jack understood.
"Sandman?" The Sandman clapped silently and nodded, his whole face brightening with yet another smile. He made another image above his head, one of a child sleeping in a bed with some of his sand swirling around the sand-child's head. Little butterflies formed from the sand and circled the child, then changed to tiny horses, birds, fish, and other tiny images several times before Jack again made the connection. "You bring dreams!" Again the silent clapping.
By now Jack had figured out that The Sandman didn't talk. Dreams were brought when people slept, and making noise would wake those people up, disturbing their dreams. They slept. They dreamed. The Sandman brought the dreams with his sand. That meant-
"You're here to bring dreams to my villagers!" Jack gestured to the empty village down below, his smile radiant. The Sandman didn't smile back. He gazed at the dark structures on the ground, his expression falling until he looked as if he might cry. Alarmed, Jack leapt forward and took the little man's hand. "Don't be sad, Sandy. They're all sleeping. They weren't last year, but they are now. They're in their wooden boxes under the ground. They'll sleep for a long time, but you'll give them nice dreams, right? Right, Sandy? ...Sandy?" The more he spoke, the sadder The Sandman became.
Jack found himself pulled to the little man's side, one tiny arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders as the cloud of Dreamsand floated to the field of sleepers. The cloud dissipated as they reached the ground and Jack stood while The Sandman floated beside him.
"See?" Jack gestured to the crosses, "They're asleep. I've seen it all over the world. They put people in boxes, and then put them in the ground so they can sleep for a long time. I think the crosses mark where the sleepers are, so that when it's time to wake up, their families know where they are. See, Sandy? They're just sleeping. You don't have to be sad."
The golden man's gaze drifted over the field before he turned back to Jack. Cupping the cold boy's face in his hands, Sandy shook his head sadly and the child in the bed reformed above his head. Then the bed was gone, and the child was in a box. It was Jack's turn to frown. He didn't understand. The Sandman reformed the child in the bed next to the one in the box. Over the bed, dreams hovered, while the child in the box had none.
Jack's brow furrowed as he thought. "They…they're not sleeping?" He asked. Sandy nodded again and formed a tree, lush with life, next to the boxed child. Jack watched as the tree bloomed, then the leaves fell and the bare branches sagged before the tree toppled silently onto its side. It vanished, leaving only the tiny box behind, a lid hiding the little child from Jack's eyes.
Blue eyes widened in horror as Jack finally understood what The Sandman was telling him. He knew what happened when trees fell. They never got back up, just withered and fell apart as little animals and bugs clawed and ate at its body. "No!" He jerked violently from the soft hands, stumbling back several steps before tripping over one of the fallen crosses and landing hard on his backside. "No no no! They're…they're sleeping! They're just sleeping, Sandman." The last sentence came out as a whimper. "Please, these are my villagers. My children. My…my sweet girl…" Tear welled up and fell, crystallizing into tiny hailstones before rolling off his cheeks.
The Sandman floated to Jack's side and wrapped the thin boy back in his arms. Jack clutched the golden man and sobbed.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because Jack woke up next to his lake, his staff beside him. The Sandman was gone, but a wisp of dreamsand floated around Jack's head for a few moments after he awoke before dissipating as the Wind ruffled Jack's snowy hair.
His village was dead. Listless, Jack crawled to the center of the lake, to the place where, six years ago, he had broken through the ice and been born Jack Frost. The ice was cold and comforting under him as he curled up on it and cried. His village was dead. His sweet girl was dead.
Spirits didn't die. That was a lesson Jack knew, just as he knew Winter was his season and no one could see him. Spirits couldn't die, but apparently humans could. They were born, they lived, and they died. Even the children. Even his sweet girl.
The only people who Jack could play with, even if they didn't know it, couldn't play with him forever. They would perish. The other spirits didn't like him, so they would never play with him. Even The Sandman hadn't stayed to make sure Jack was alright after revealing the horrible truth to the youth. Hailstone tears continued to fall as Jack came to a heart wrenching realization: He would never have friends.
************************Let Us Return To Jack's Present************************
Four years after Jack learned of death, four years after he realized he'd never have friends, Jack had found a way to make friends. Literally.
He smiled as he sat back on his heels. Before him were five Snow-People. Their shapes were indistinct mounds, but they had arms, heads, and bodies. Smooth river pebbles made up their eyes, noses, and mouths. Bits of fabric that he had collected with the Wind's help decorated their bodies: scarves and shirts, a hat on one and a pair of mismatched mittens on another.
They would stay with him all winter long. He could talk with them, play games with them, and when he had to leave, all he had to do was remake them somewhere else. He had friends. Even if they were only alive to him…
A/N: So…yup. More to come later, I really just wanted to get Ch. 2 out since Ch. 1 was soooooooo short!
Special heartfelt thanks and love to Snowdrop's first ever follower The Sapphire Dolphin and first ever favs Crazy-insane-original-person45, Liberty-Chan-123, and RinzlerIsTron123. I got my alerts for each of you and quite literally squealed in joy and bounced around like a two year old on a severe sugar high. It's so exciting to have favs and follows after only a few hours on the site! I'll do my best to update as often as I can and to make this fic as lovely as you all seem to think it's going to be.
Edit: Thanks to the help of my dearlings (yes, dearlings. That is not a typo), we have found the story that helped inspire this one! Galimatias's "Protect" fanfic. The specific chapter is #7 - "Acorn Eyes." Go read it in its entirety, dearlings! It's lovely.