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Chapter four: Laughter…

It had become a slightly guilty secret, running to Rion. For while the other Guardian's were embodiments of all that was good, Jack was…well…he was a child of winter, and winter killed just as often as it brought smiles.

Sure, he'd never kill purposefully—he only brought the winter, he didn't exactly control what happened after—but that didn't change the fact that Jack's snow buried people alive, made them lose limbs, killed off poor hungry animals and starving kids, and so many other horrible things.

It was only natural, really, that his heart would have a dark ting to it, that deep inside he was beyond thrilled to watch people squirm and struggle against his snow and ice. It was fun, it was funny, how pathetic humans looked.

But Jack could never, would never, express these thoughts to the other Guardians—for the thoughts were shared with the Nightmare King after all, and wouldn't that be awful? if they abandoned him because he thought like the enemy?

The Songstress, his ever constant companion, always argued otherwise, declared that they would understand, that the Guardians past's weren't as full of rainbows and sunshine as Jack made them out to be. But ever since Jamie died, cold corpse smiling, smiling, within Jack's frozen arms as they plunged into the lake, the Guardian of Fun's thoughts had become a wee bit jumbled, a tab bit darker, as if something had cracked, and some dark smog was released, covering Jack's thoughts and sticking to his brain, invading his heart…

"You know, even if you can't interact with him, that doesn't mean you can't interact with the environment around him." Rion stated, breaking Jack out of his thoughts, dull blue (for they would stay that way, dull, whenever he'd come to Rion and blabber on about his darkest thoughts), meeting blank midnight, "Try altering his environment. Not enough to be noticed, but, surely, a mouse—"something flashed in those blank eyes, a deep sadness, but Jack had long since given up asking after the whereabouts' of those long ago animals, "—yes, a mouse would surely go unnoticed."

"A mouse?"

"Well," Rion looked away, rubbing the back of his neck (a habit, Jack noted, the boy had picked up from him), "It doesn't have to be a mouse…"

"Ah," a grin slid its way across Jack's face, as it always did by the end of his dark ramblings, as if those midnight orbs would stare into the dirtied snow and then comb out all that tainted it, leaving nothing more than the shimmering white that brought smiles and cheer to so many faces. "So I can make a miniature figurine of you and have it dance like a ballerina?"

"I highly doubt that would make Jamie happy."

"Oh, I have no doubt that it would send him into a bought of laughter."

"Don't you dare!" Those blank eyes flared, as they always did whenever anything concerning ballerina's was mentioned, like blazing stars, angry yet sad, and perhaps this was another bit of the guilty secret, being able to poke fun at such a silly—yet apparently hurtful—weakness.

"Perhaps I could dress you up in a Toto as well…" Jack laughed, jumping into the air as the dead-child took a swing at him, barely raising an eyebrow at the heat that radiated off the extended hand. For the child had opened up to Jack in way's beyond words, letting small hints drop every now and again on how purely wrong his existence was. But it was due to this feeling of wrong and shouldn't exist that allowed Jack to feel so comfortable spewing his darkest thoughts and feelings to the child, and that allowed him to take pleasure in his darker side of fun without any repercussions, for the dead-child would push back, and he, too, would join in on the game of striking ones weaknesses, of pulling them out and dangling them, mocking.

"Well," Rion spoke with a huff, a small smile a lighting his lips (a smile that Jack had grown accustomed to picking out, and the child had long since stopped hiding) as he looked up into dancing blue, "perhaps you could sing him to sleep."

"No."

"Ah," the smile grew, the light in midnight eyes dancing like a cackling skeleton, "but surely a child as young as Jamie would love to hear you sing."

Yes, Jamie had been reborn, around ten years after his death he was brought back. Currently he was no more than five years old, and, due to the deal with MiM, Jack was not allowed to interfere with Jamie's life. He'd dealt with it, silently, for those five years (alright, so not completely silent, as he'd cry to Sandy and gush to Tooth, then brag to Bunny and whine to North, all about his little love, his cute kiddo, his adorable Jamie…). After Jamie's lonely cry, however, Jack couldn't stand it anymore, it had been the kiddo's fifth birthday, and yet he had been in tears, why? because someone had given him an evil Jack Frost plushie* (when he'd described what it looked like Rion had fallen into a silent fit of laughter, which was swiftly ended when Jack had tossed a snowball into his face).

After the incident he'd flown to Rion, the ever patient (and seemingly never aging) child, complaining of his problem and looking for an honest, and perhaps rule breaking, answer (Jack had no doubt Tooth would help, but she too busy, Bunny would have simply laughed, North would have given a disapproving frown, and Sandy…Sandy would have offered to knock out everyone so he'd have had a wee bit of time with Jamie, but MiM would have been pissed by such an action, and thus Jack wouldn't dare ask for his help).

"But you have such a wonderful voice." Rion lightly laughed, dodging a snowball and ignoring how it hit a poor business man in the head, "Surely a singing ice version of yourself would lighten his mood greatly."

With a growl Jack threw another snowball, almost regretting the time he'd come across the dead-child, covered with blood, lying in the snow, and simply sung with the child's head in his lap, granting Rion's wish of not wanting to be taken anywhere—or seen, for that matter.

It had been shocking, when, the next morning, Jack had found out that he, too, had fallen asleep, and that the boy had fully recovered in that time, standing over him while offering up an ice-cream cone, a small mocking smile on his lips, "So, you can sing?"

"That idea," Jack sighed eventually, after he'd hit everyone currently wandering the park at least once—except Rion, which annoyed him greatly—"might work."

"Of course it will."

"I hate you."

"Of course you do," the boy called in what Jack could have sworn was a sing-songy voice, but he wouldn't dare bring it to the boy's attention; it was another advancement, as far as Jack could see, in getting the boy to open up. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to get back at the death-child.

"And when I make my awesome ice-figure, I'll make another one of you—" at Rion's widening eyes Jack couldn't help but grin victoriously as he rose in the air, before shouting down, "In a Toto!"

The angry cry, the blast of energy sent towards his feet, was all the answer Jack noted before he flew off. Laughing and twirling in the air once more, as he felt as if a heavy dark weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

…or pushed back into the abyss in which it came.

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I was afraid the switch would be a tad bit weird…I know this chapter is.

*I have been playing Shin Megami Tensei Nocturne, as such, that version of Jack Frost just wouldn't leave my head *laughs* that and the idea that Jamie would find that version of Jack scary is just hilarious. Though, he didn't really find it scary so much as it pulled at unknown heart strings and made him feel really, really lonely without his Jack Frost.

Beyond that, remember the majestic number two…