Disclaimer: I own naughta

A/N: Alright, It's been decided that this fic is becoming the latest addition to my ROTG collection…in other words, it's joining in on the story, connecting. To all you old readers, favoriters, and followers, this does not mean you have to run for the hills. You do not have to read any of my previous stories to still enjoy this one…but it might be confusing.

However, this does mean this story is going to include yaoi, JamiexJack. This is your one and only warning, so if you still want to read, please don't complain.

Also, due to the switch, there is going to be a lot of time jumping for the next few chapters.

Chapter three: Comfort?

Jack hadn't thought about it, really, the reason why he kept his meetings with Rion secret; perhaps it was because the child held a certain air of uniqueness, a certain feel of…well, something. Jack wasn't all too sure what it was, and, quite frankly, at that moment he couldn't really bring himself to care.

He'd just learned of Jamie's inevitable death.

Alright, so he hadn't just learned of it, but no one beyond Sandy, the Songstress (as he had come to call the wind who danced and twirled by his side), and himself needed to know that the young winter spirit had just spent a good portion of the week balling in the Sand Man's arms.

Nonetheless, the pain was still there, and he didn't quit feel like dealing with Tooth's worried buzzing or Bunny's rough attempt's at comfort, least of all North's sad eyes and all too warm and bone crushing hug. He could have stayed with Sandy, but the little man had already done so much for him, far, far too much, and it would be just plain out selfish if Jack were to ask to stay another week, even if the Guardian of Dreams would have agreed without a moment's hesitation.

So here he was. At the park he used to visit every day during winter since he first spotted Rion.

Had the dead-child (death-child, either one worked, really, but death wasn't something Jack wanted to think about at the moment) missed him? Had he waited in the cold, staring up into the sky with those ever blank eyes, searching for the slightest glimpse of brown and blue and white? Before Jack could dive too far into quilt a voice, soft, lined with only the barest amount of confusion and perhaps a sprinkle of joy, called from behind, "Jack? You're back?"

Only the ever calming something in the boy's voice kept Jack from whirling around and freezing him on the spot. "Don't startle me like that!"

"Ah, right," Rion nodded, empty midnight blue eyes never leaving Jack's dull ones, "that's supposed to be you're job."

A question was hidden in those words. A small probing, but Rion had an air of understanding that was at once annoying and yet comforting, and he did not speak further. Instead, he took Jack's hand (something that startled the Guardian greatly, for the child had always avoided any and all physical contact) and led him to the fountain at the center of the park. Always, always, ignoring passerby's, who, if Jack would have cared to notice, were just as obviously ignoring them.

"Where are your followers?" Jack asked after the pair had sat in silence for some time, eyes roaming Rion's hair, waiting for a small mouse to peak its little head out from within, and then wondering to the frosty ground, expecting a cat to pop out at any moment and curly up on the child's shoulders.

"Why are you here?"

"To spend—"

"Why," Rion interrupted, eyes suddenly blazing, shinning with an inner light that flashed with images of white, white, white, "are you here?"

Though Jack knew almost nothing of the child, Rion knew almost everything about him, for Jack simply couldn't stand the silence that befell the park late in the evenings, and talked, and talked, hoping, wishing, it would simply go away.

So Jack knew, with sickening clarity, that the child had seen right through him, again (for they had had similar conversations whenever Jack would get into a fight with Jamie, or when Jack simply couldn't stand the sight of his kiddo growing up…).

Why aren't you with Jamie?

Why aren't you talking with the Guardians?

Why aren't you spending time with the one you're about to lose?

"I—" Jack choked, looking away, unable to stare into the midnight orbs that shone with a far too bright star, "I don't know what to do, Jamie's going to die, it's going to be painful, and, and, I can't do anything about it! If I interfere then he's simply going to die another way! I don't, I don't!"

The warm hand, softly pressed atop his head, threw Jack off, "If you cannot save you're loves life, then you can at least save him from the pain."

"But how?" the winter spirit all but cried, not caring how awkward it must look for the small child to be lifting his hand up far above his head, stretching, simply to console the Guardian, though, at an earlier date, he might have joked about how ridiculous Rion looked, simply to get a rise from the all too silent child.

"Would you rather have Jamie die painfully at the hands of some stranger? Or would you prefer him to die peacefully, by your hands?"

They both knew the answer, so when Jack jumped into the cool embrace of the winds without a second thought, neither was surprised. Perhaps, Jack would contemplate later, that was his reason for seeking Rion out, for a simple, honest, answer, uncaring of how wrong it may sound, for the child knew of the darkest reaches of the heart, and he cared little.

It was only after Jack had begged MiM to allow his plan, and only after he had a calming dinner at North's, that Jack noticed Rion never answered his original question, and that he had never given the boy any hints as to what troubled him, but, perhaps the animals had gone back to their true homes, and, maybe, Jack had been a wee bit obvious, perhaps he'd mumbled without thinking. It didn't matter, not now, not when he had to steel himself for a very, very painful task.

"He'd like that," Tooth had whispered, being the first to recover from Jack's blurted out plan, "to die in your arms…"

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A/N: Oh my, another one, *cough* anyway, feel free to tell me what you think, rather you hate it or not, I welcome any and all feedback. However, from here on, I'll only update after I have received 2, two, and I repeat, 2 reviews. Nonetheless, thank you all so very, very much for actually reading this story (weather you're soon to be leaving it or not).