Oh, the scream that echoed through the air to Jack. It practically stabbed him in the heart. He knew who it was for and couldn't get there fast enough. When he got there, he knew the scream had only sounded in the mind, not physically. He spotted Elsa- no longer a small child but five years away from being of age- twisted in the sheets of her bed, her hands clutched at her heart, her face contorted. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he shook her gently.

"Elsa," he said, his voice urgent. "Elsa, wake up." He shook her a little harder, and her eyes snapped open. She saw him and jumped up with her arms around him. Sobs racked her entire body, and the tears couldn't flow faster. "Hey, hey, it's okay. What happened?" He held the back of her head, which was pressed against his collarbone. His other hand was spread on her back. His head rested on the top of hers.

"It was such a terrible dream, Jack!" she cried. "It was just so terrible." She turned her face in to breathe him in.

"Shh. Calm down." He caressed her hair in its messed up braid. "Tell me what it was about."

"M-My parents died. I-I hurt Anna again," she lied. Like every night, she went to sleep thinking about Jack and ended up having a dream where he was somehow involved. This time it had turned into a nightmare, something she had not experienced since before Anna was born. Without saying anything else, she began to sink to the floor with Jack still holding her. She ended up on one side of him, still trying to clutch him in the awkward position. He was in the situation where he should have been leaning on something but could not and had to keep himself suspended. He picked his staff up from next to him, where he had dropped it when he entered. He lifted it into the air and watched the tip glow. Snow shot up and covered the floor. Snowflakes drifted down and landed in their hair.

"Hey, Elsa?" He moved his shoulder up and down to gesture for her to look up. When she finally did, he asked, "Do you wanna build a snowman?"

She replied without looking at him. "Yes, Jack."

And so they did.

But she would never tell Jack about what the dream was actually about.

She had been in a white ball gown standing alone in the ballroom. Jack wearing his usual clothes appeared in the center of the room, his staff leaned on a wall behind him. He held his hand out to her, a hand that she took. With one hand on her waist and the other in her own hand, Jack moved back and forth to dance with her. She could feel her heart pounding, the largest smile on her face, not a care about anything else. Then, everything grew dark. It rose up from the floor and covered the walls. Jack brought Elsa to him in a protective way. His staff was suddenly in his hand, stretched out in front of them. Elsa had one arm around Jack and the other against his chest. She felt a rush of fear in the pit of her stomach. She could feel her body temperature drop. Jack gasped, and her head snapped up to look at him. Elsa remained standing as Jack collapsed. Snow started to fall in dark around them. "Jack?" He lie still with ice etching his skin. Dead.

And somewhere in the darkness, a deep laugh bounced off the walls.

Jack watched Elsa crying. He knelt down where she sat at the door. "I'm sorry about your parents, Elsa," he said hoarsely. When she just kept going, he put a hand of comfort on her head.

But his hand fell right through her.

His hand zipped back to him. His chest heaved, trying to get the air in. Eyes glossy, Jack tried again to touch Elsa. His hand went straight through. "No!" he screamed. His knees were bent beneath him. He put his head on the ground and held a tight grip on his hair. "Elsa!" He kept shaking his head back and forth. "Elsa!"

After a while, Elsa stood up and climbed into bed. Jack followed her desperately. He was on his knees next to her bed. He clawed at her arm to only end up landing on the blankets. "Please, please," he begged. "Elsa." He gave up and plopped onto the floor. He was crying now.

A week passed before Jack left. Elsa still could not see him. Forgotten ice sculptures were beginning to melt on her bedside table. "The other children," he muttered one morning as Elsa woke up. "I'm going to go around the rest of the world and bring snow to the children. Maybe I can teach them how to play in it." He opened the window and hopped out, too sad to turn around for one last look at Elsa, the girl that turned at the sound of her window to see a man appear and then disappear just as quickly.