Finally! It's done! Thank goodness in heaven for that. I got some writers block - but it was weird. Usually I blank on ideas, but this time I was a fountin of ideas - i just couldn't put anything into words, if you know what I mean. I've got a bit of a head start on chapter three, so yay! Oh, and a couple things. Plot ideas are very, very welcome, because I only have a few vague ones. I'll try to incorporate them, just know that I don't ship Jack with... well, with anyone, really. And I'm sorry, I have to apologize. These chapters are sooooo short! But, anyway, enough blabbering. *grins* Here's chapter two!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Rise of the Guardians. Sorry. Call back later, maybe.

-SM

Chapter Two: The Nightmare

Idiot. He was such an idiot!

Thoughts like this were swarming Jack's mind as he flew to North's workshop. Why didn't he catch her name? All he knew was that she was a Bennett.

And a pretty good looking one at that.

Angrily, Jack shook the thought out of his head. He was the immortal, all-powerful Jack Frost. Not a sucker for love stories and happy endings. He knew people died; that was a reality of life.

But Jamie...

Technically, the girl was right. Jamie's death was his fault. If he'd been more careful, spent more time with Jamie... if only he'd known! But now Jamie was dead, and if it hadn't been for Jack, he'd be alive and kicking.

Wait a second.

Jack jerked to a stop as the lights of Burgess came into view. "What the," he murmured. "Wind, really?"

Even though it couldn't talk back, Jack had spent a lot of his 300 years of solitude talking to the Wind.

Who was he kidding? He still did often.

Gently the Wind set him down on his frozen lake. Jack stared at it, the scene of his death and thought's of Jamie's raging through his mind.

What would Sophie say?

She had let go of her beliefs long ago, when she was just eleven. Peer pressure had gotten to her early. Jack could still remember how heartbroken he'd been when Sophie walked through him the first time - then the second time, and the third time. He kept trying for a least a year, but the only thing it did was shatter his split heart further.

He felt the familiar pain as he thought about the tea parties they had, the dress-up games... The mischievous grins he'd share with Jamie as they snick away from her, hoping to escape her wrath. But for Sophie, Jack had never been there. He had been a figment of their extraordinary imaginations.

Now she was seventy, married to the neighbor boy, Scott Mundy, with five kids of her own - none of which still believed. Heaving a sigh, Jack flew to the top of a tree, the thin branches swaying madly in the breeze. "'Night, Wind," he whispered quietly.

.

..

.

Jack's sleep was troubled, to say the least.

He dreamt of his death - the tons of freezing water all cascading around him, his little sister's agonized scream of "JAAAACK!" And then... Darkness. Not the kind of darkness you feel emanating off Pitch Black, but the kind that fills a quiet night. Snow fell in a forest lightly as the Wind pushed them around, making beautiful swirling patterns.

It was all sort of peaceful until the scream ripped through the air. Jack immediately rocketed toward the sound, his mind filling with unspoken anxiousness and worry. He knew that scream. It was the scram of a little girl grown up who didn't get what she wanted. Jack arrived in time to see Jamie's dead body, cradled in Sophie's arms.

Jack tried to call out to her, but his voice had abandoned him. He instead walked over to the seventy year old Sophie and tried to push a stray lock of hair out of her face. His hand ghosted through her, causing unshed tears to spring to his eyes. His breath hitched as he reached down to caress Jamie's cheek...

...and went through him.

Shock coursed through his body. Jack clenched his eyes shut and gripped his eyes shut and gripped his staff tightly, finally allowing sobs to rack his body and violently shake his shoulders. Then darkness overtook everything once more.

He awoke with tears coursing down his cheeks, but freezing on his cold skin before they reached his chin. Pulling up a facade of anger, Jack wiped away the frozen drops of water.

"This is so stupid," he muttered angrily, his fists clenched into tight balls. "C'mon, Wind." He leapt off the tree, allowing the Wind to cradle him for a moment, but then he shot off in the dark for Antarctica.

It was almost comical, he thought sardonically, how the very thing he had been running away from the past 300 years, had become his only safe haven.

Being alone.

.

..

.

Pitch Black was in his lair, brainstorming ideas to take control over his Nightmares again. The Guardians had defeated him, yes, but now his beautiful Nightmares were running around, causing havoc everywhere. They avoided the Sandman for obvious reasons, but still attacked the other Guardians - especially Frost - if given the chance.

It was enough to get Pitch pacing again.

After being taken out by the Guardians - including the most infamous Jack Frost - he had wallowed in his lair, bemoaning the fact that he was stuck back where it all started - weak and alone, hiding beneath a bed. Now he realized how foolish that was. He should have been scheming, planning his revenge and glorious comeback. So he had slowly started to taming them whenever he had the power to.

He couldn't utterly control them, not yet. He was still working on that. But they always came back to him after a long night's work. So it was a huge surprise when a Nightmare came back halfway through the night, prancing around like a beheaded chicken.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" Pitch said aloud, to no one in particular. The mare simply paused, looked at him , pawed the ground, and started pushing him toward the exit of his lair. Rolling his golden eyes, Pitch followed the rapturous Nightmare.

Pitch soon realized where the Nightmare was headed. It taking him to the lake right next to Burgess - Jack Frost's lake. Pitch slowed down, but the Nightmare sped up and vaulted onto the smooth, glassy surface of the frozen lake. Pitch silently emerged into the clearing and saw a sight he'd never seen before.

Fear was in the air - particularly around the tree that Frost in. Pain was written blatantly all over the young Guardian's face as he slept. Pitch winced as the annoying winter spirit whimpered and mumbled something aloud, his hands automatically tightening on his staff. Pitch turned his eyes away from the sight of the tough hellion, reduced to... this.

"Did you do this?" He asked his Nightmare. She bobbed her head proudly and horse-waltzed over to Jack, looking ready to give him a bad night's sleep. There were, after all, a few more hours till dawn.

Pitch looked at Jack with pity - the sprite looked like he was about to fall out of the tree, for Manny's sake! Pitch called the Nightmare back, away from the sleeping figure.

But then Jack wasn't asleep anymore. Pitch's eyes widened and he stepped into the treeline as Jack wiped away a few frozen tears, muttered something, and flew off. Pitch looked after him, making a split second decision.

And so he chased Jack Frost.