Thank you for the encouraging reviews everyone! I hope ya'll like this chapter, it was kind of hard O.o
I got this one out sooner than the last one though. 8D
Probably because I'm dog sitting instead of being at home, doing chores. Either way, good for you guys, right?
Anyways, I'm actually thinking of combining this arc with storyline of the first chapter to come up with a bigger/more dramatic plot line. Opinions? Yay or Nay?
Warnings: language and maybe some imagery...? I honestly don't know what standards everyone has for that sort of thing...
Happy Reading!
Sanderson ManSnoozie: star pilot extraordinaire and close friend to Jack Frost; was worried. The Winter Child he had become so fond of was, in a word, decaying. The boy no longer exuded energy, laughter, and curiosity. No, Jack was becoming increasingly sullen and withdrawing from everything; just as his predecessors did before ultimately passing from this world. It was why winter spirits, in general, were such a rare breed and, more often that not, were seen as creatures of death and destruction. Mother Nature and the Man in the Moon had combined their powers into such a young vessel in hopes of preventing this exact predicament; but the Sandman knew, better than most, that history was always bound to repeat itself.
Until something strange happened with the young winter bringer. Jack Frost's consciousness 'disappeared'. As a giver of dreams, Sandy was will tuned to the minds of mortals and immortals alike. He'd been keeping a close watch over Jack to insure pleasant dreams (a useful trick, being able to keep track of someone despite being on the other side of the world), knowing the boy could cease existing soon. The ancient being remembered the sudden panic at sensing Jack's life force but not his mind when it first happened in 1888. He had immediately rushed to the other's location only to find a raging blizzard in play, yet Jack was still 'gone'. Sandy had waited the storm out and eventually found the child collapsed on top of a pile of snow, the wind swirling worriedly above him. The little man had sat by him until he awoke and the Sandman had never been so relieved to feel someone else's consciousness. He would have felt even better if Jack had not decided to keep his mouth shut, for once (the child had a tendency to talk...a lot. Sandy could not deny that.)
The Sandman never solved the mystery and had deemed to forget about the near heart attack...until it happened again in 1913 and another in 1940; and those were only the extended periods. Each time, Sandy would find Jack but the boy refused to talk (and Sandy had always thought being mute himself was bad.) He finally had a break through in 1968. Sandy would never forget what had transpired that day. How someone so innocent could cause such harm. How severely Jack Frost had been damaged.
Sanderson ManSnoozie found him shortly after Jack had fled to Antarctica in a panic. The Sandman had been, simply said, pissed, but he was willing to hear Jack's side of the story. Jack knew he was screwed; his staff in the golden man's possession, eyes piercing straight through him, and the fact that Sandy, a loyal friend for well over two centuries, was the one being Jack and the wind respected the most; even the wind, all four of them, agreed that yes, Jack Frost was, indeed, screwed. It was only a matter of minutes before the snowy haired boy began to tremble and opened his mouth to confess everything when a sharp tug at Jack's being silenced him. The Sandman could sense it as well, the way Jack's consciousness was being pulled apart and fading. When the bone chilling cold settled in, affecting both occupants of the treacherous tundra; Sandy knew he was about to find out what had been scaring Jack for so long and he knew it was something undeniably horrid. The shorter of the two cautiously floated closer to the other, amber eyes flickering over the youth with concern while simultaneously sending out small tendrils of dream sand to scour the plain for any threats. An exclamation point appeared over the dream weaver's head when Jack fell over onto his side unconscious. The man paused only a foot away from the child. Jack's mind had completely vanished despite having the physical body laying in front of him. A small, round face scrunched up in determination. Fists clenched, feet marching forward, and streams of golden dream sand rapidly stirring; Sanderson ManSnoozie was on a mission of great importance. He was just about to place a hand on Jack's shoulder when a bigger, pale hand grabbed the elder spirit's wrist.
Warm amber eyes against frigid violet.
A perfect smile flashed up at Sandy, but the little man would not be fooled. This was not Jack Frost. This was not the Spirit of Winter who played with children and handed out happiness at the cost of his own. This was not the child of ice and snow he'd come to love and cherish.
No, this creature was of anger and bitterness, sorrow and despair, a creature created by the agony of a suffering child; the negative energy pouring forth from this demon clashed violently with the light of the omnipotent Sandman and his dreams.
"Sanderson." Deeper, darker than the charming frost child. The next moment was a flurry of movement; golden whips flying and the pale skinned boy flipping backwards. A maniacal giggle escaped from the thing's mouth. Dream sand formed shapes above Sandy's head; a miniature Jack Frost then an 'x' over it,
"You're not Jack."
"First you attack me, then you have the nerve to tell me I'm not me? I'm wounded, Sanderson, truly." This...thing (not Jack, it could never be Jack, no matter how much it pretended) began rolling up the sleeves of Jack's tattered, old bomber jacket. Showing off deeply inflicted scars running the length of the thin arms, "I am Jack, but I'm not Jackie. He's sleeping. Resting where this cruel reality can no longer reach him. The poor lad is so lost and confused, frightened beyond belief." The thing chuckled before Jack's voice spilled out of the thing's mouth,
Why are these people hurting me?
Why can't anyone see me?
Why won't I die?
What did I do wrong!?
"It's all jumbling, really," It's voice returned to its previous demented state, "but you get the gist of it." The chesire smile never left its face, nor the darkness in its eyes. Fingers flexing and smile widening into a bearing of teeth, the thing's arms erupted with spikes of frozen crimson. Sandy stood his ground, panic etched into his features, an exclamation point echoing his thoughts. The creature let out a laugh, twisted with malice and glee, truly sadistic, before lithe legs launched the body at Sandy with wicked intent. An arm swung and the Sandman had to dodge a barrage of blood spikes,
'Jack's blood...' Sandy thought, a shiver vibrating his sand. A whip lashed out to wrap around the wrist of this monster in Jack's skin. The dream sand immediately froze and Sandy had to use his other whip to reflect the second wave of crimson spikes while more sprouted from the pale arms to renew ammunition,
"Give me a dream, Mr. Sandman!" The monster cackled, angling one of his feet to pivot on an ankle and spinning to face the eldest spirit. Just as Sandy spun to face it, the thing once again launched into a blur of movement and swerved to circle around the small man, tiny droplets of blood splattering across the ice. A flick of the wrist sent the projectiles towards Sandy, where they lodged into his upper torso; he winched but the spikes of frozen blood were soon pushed out by the golden grains of sand that made up the Sandman's suit,
"Give Jack back his body!" written in neat cursive above Sandy's head to clearly convey his point,
"No." the demon said simply, stepping forward casually. The blood running in rivulets down its hands froze at the fingertips, forming claws, "As much as it will hurt Jackie, I have to eradicate you." The creature seemed happy to say those words, a content smile stretching across its lips, "Everyone will hurt us. It is fact. Therefore, I am the hunter; hurt before you are hurt, kill before you are killed. These are the principles on which we have survived as Jack Frost." Sandy's gut seemed to fall out at that moment in time; the creature was implying someone had tried to kill Jack and in retaliation, the prey had turned into the hunter. Violet eyes narrowed while the smile stayed in place, not an inch out of line. This...hunter tilted its head to the side, "Are you afraid, Sanderson? Horrified? Perhaps disgusted by the blood on our hands? The bodies pierced by icicles. The screams of the dying. The frostbitten terror of knowing you're staring death right in the eye?" a deep chuckle sounded, "Now doesn't that sound positively fun?!" The chuckle turned into a full laugh. This embodiment of insanity leapt forth and Sandy closed his eyes,
'I'm sorry, Jack' the Sandman thought, 'but I have to stop this thing before it gets out of hand!' Honey eyes snapped open and whips of sand lashed out. The creature just about to pierce him with bloodied claws gave a yelp of shock when both whips wrapped around its neck then flung the lean body into the ground repeatedly before the whips were frozen and destroyed,
"Insolent basterd!" it shouted, blood trickling from its snarling mouth, a gash in its head also leaked crimson fluid while its right arm was bent at an awkward angle. When it stumbled forward it was with a limp, narrowed violet eyes dimming with blood loss, "You would cause such damage to your dear friend?" another laugh darkened by madness, "You can not stop what has been started. This world has cast its lot and wrought its own damnation! They cast us as death and misery so death and misery we will bring!" a cracking sound from behind made the spirit spin and freeze the multitude of sand tendrils coming from behind, "Sneaky little fuck-" when the white haired body turned around to face Sandy once more, a golden fist of dream sand, roughly the same size as the winter spirit, rammed straight into it, sending the decrepit demon into a cliff face.
Sandy waited until the cloud caused by the crashing ice had subsided before darting forth. His whips still held in hand as he searched through the rubble to find the unconscious body of Jack Frost. The Sandman sighed in relief upon finding the boy still breathing...and his original personality returning. Sandy sprinkled a pinch more of dream sand over the white hair before gathering the youth onto a golden cloud and speeding away from Antarctica. The little man knew who to see and raced to his destination with haste.
Mother Nature, known as Seraphina to some, and 'Mother' to her four seasons, sat by the side of her Winter Spirit. Jack laid in a simple bed within the sanctuary of her home, bandages covering his torso and head while braces were strapped onto his arm and leg. Sandy floated outside on the balcony, his concentration tied to something in his hands that glowed with the moon light.
The tall woman, with flowing black hair and an ethereal beauty, was worried. It was well known among the seasonal spirits that Jack Frost was the favorite of Mother Nature; the boy who so fondly called her 'mother', his eyes brightening whenever he saw her (although when asked, the seasonals would not deny playing favorites with Jack as well. He was the youngest, the eager pup trying to prove himself to his older siblings.) Like any good mother, Seraphina had panicked and demanded to know what had happened while simultaneously grabbing Jack and summoning her medical sprites. She had picked up on Jack's odd behavior during the last few decades; her three oldest seasons often mentioning it in reports and talking about it directly to her. She would have never guessed the situation would spiral out of hand so quickly. The woman was grateful it had been Sanderson who had found...this other Jack. Her spiritual son would be in a far graver state of affairs had it been another spirit, one not so closely connected with Jack, or possibly one of the spirits who loathed the frost child. Still, the problem had been found and with it, the possibility of a solution. Maybe if she had paid more attention, the boy wouldn't be lying injured before her, or maybe she should have tried to involve herself more with the younger's life. perhaps-
"Mother...?" a light voice asked, followed by a groan. It successfully pulled Mother Nature out of her depressing 'What If' thoughts,
"Jack, how do you feel?" her gentle voice helped to calm the winter child, as well as the tan hand running through white locks of hair,
"My head hurts..." groggy blue eyes blinked, "I...I was in Antarctica..."
"It's okay, Jack, I know. Sanderson told me everything." Seraphina lifted a cloth from a bowl on the nightstand, placing it on his forehead, "You're running a high fever. You'll be on break and staying with me until you heal."
"S-Sandy!" sudden alertness caused Jack to bolt up an inch off his pillow before Mother Nature stopped him with her hand, still placed on his head,
"He's fine, Jack. Completely unharmed." a soft smile appeared in Jack's vision and he relaxed once more. Hearing the conversation, the Sandman decided to make his entrance, a proud grin across his face and necklace in hand. He went to Jack's side and fluidly tied the string around Jack's neck. In response, the child let out an agonized, two-tone scream and clutched his chest. His insides began to burn, claws raking down the inside of his torso. It was fighting, whatever this thing was, it wasn't going down without a fight. He could feel Mother running a soothing hand through his hair, her voice telling him to breathe. Jack took in a gulp of air and the pressure was released bit by bit. Then, like a tornado fading away, the pain subsided and Jack could no longer feel the darkness in his mind, the shadow fingers skittering at the edge of his vision. Not even the scent of innocent blood splattered across a dead man and his axe.
The Winter Spirit fell limp onto the mattress below him, his Mother's hand still running through his hair and another reaching for the cloth she had thrown into the chilled bowl of water in haste. Brilliant sapphire eyes blinked open, a clarity in them that hadn't been seen since long ago,
"Sandy...?" The little man formed a picture of a thumbs up over his head. It morphed into a crescent shape when Jack reached up to touch the piece of jewelry around his neck. He lifted it slightly to stare at it. It was a small sphere contained within delicate, but firm metal work. The patterns twisted and flowed together to form an intricate pattern of dazzling silver. The sphere, itself, was clear, except for the miniature white light floating inside. It seemed to hum with life and blinked once, twice, three times before settling into a dim state,
"Sanderson, Lunar, and I have come up with a solution. This necklace contains a moon beam, Jack. It is a direct light source, able to keep the darkest of nights at bay. Keep this with you and you need not worry about changing again." Seraphina explained, putting a graceful hand on Jack's to close his pale fingers around the necklace,
"Wait...so this will keep everyone safe...?" He asked in shock and Sandy nodded vigorously. A tiny Jack Frost, staff in hand, flew about the room with a grand display of air acrobatics, a smile, seemingly to big for it, adorning its face. Jack watched the figure with excitement. His entire being seemed lighter in comparison to the last century. A full smile coming easily and a laugh even more so. The feeling spread and Seraphina leaned down to hug her son,
"It will keep you safe, Jack."
Two months later, Sandy was contently spreading his dream sand. The boisterous laughter of a winter spirit filling the background. The wind seemed to laugh along with the boy and mildly disrupted the streams of gold flowing to the children beneath, but Sandy couldn't find it in himself to care much. Not when the care free youth soared past him with a bright, true smile. Jack Frost was happy and the Sandman was positive that this time, history would change.
And perhaps Jack Frost was not so broken.
Notes:
I got really stuck on the fight between Jack and Sandy, I just couldn't seem to get it out...until I started having a conversation with the dogs. They were surprisingly helpful :) Quick note; I tried to make the other Jack (I need to come up with a name for this guy) a bit...insane, he is the embodiment of 300 years of mental suffering, after all.
On another note, for randomness. Jack is kind of based off me towards the end. I had been in a psychiatric hospital when I fell sick. They always checked our vitals each morning. When they asked how I felt, I said "My head hurts..." while the walls were waving at me. Few seconds later, my temperature came up as 103 degrees Fahrenheit. Being that sick away from home is hell.
I also like the fact the Mother Nature acts like a mother x3 Jack doesn't remember anything, while his 'siblings' (Hiccup, Merida, and Rapunzel) remember everything from their past life. I figured Jack would know what a mother is, but since he can't remember having one, he latched onto the closest thing he had. I'd imagine Seraphina would be a bit shocked but ultimately thrilled that Jack thinks of her as such (she is Mother Nature though, she's bound to be busy...a lot.) I'd love to do a story about them as a family :D I might do a one-shot of that.
Please keep in mind that for this story, I imagine Jack as fourteen (I like to imagine his hoodie is a bit too big for him, he'd look so cute xD ) while Hiccup, Merida, and Rapunzel are in the 17-21 area (They're not the ones who died, after all.)
Please review and point out any mistakes so I can fix them! I know one of you suggested more spacing so I tried to incorporate that and went back and spaced out the second chapter as well :)