Hola Señors y señoritas!
New chapter! Btw this is set around 2 years after the movie and I know there is a lot of controversy but I am making Jack fifteen years old! But you would have found that out anyway as you read this chapter… oh well! Enjoy!
North entered Jack's room to a strange sight. Jack was aggressively attacking the floor with a mop. His staff was propped in the corner; North couldn't remember a time that Jack had been willingly away from his staff…ever. The sheets where not on the bed and there appeared to be shattered glass on the floor.
'Uh… Jack?'
North watched with his eyebrows raised in curiosity as Jack jumped four foot in the air in surprise.
'O-o-oh oh, hi North!' Jacks voice came out three octaves higher than normal.
'What are you doing?'
'I-I-I ummmm felt like I was going to be sick, but the door was locked and I couldn't get to the bathroom… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make a mess. There was a mop and I tidied it up, sorry North.' Jack looked down and bit his lip, the lie tasting sour in his mouth. But North saw this action as embarrassment and laughed it off.
'Is not problem Jack, but why is there broken glass?'
'I… umm was holding it when… and I dropped it.'
'Oh I see.'
Jack looked up and smiled thankfully.
'Thanks North.' Jack smiled again and tried to walk around the huge Russian.
'Where are you going?'
'Well, I feel much better now thanks, and I really need to get going, stuff to be done, snow days to be had. Fun doesn't make itself you know.'
North raised his eyebrows and shifted to fill the doorway.
'You just threw up, you look as pale as death,' Jack raised his own eyebrows at that, 'at least paler than usual, you need to stay in bed, Jack.'
Jack took a deep breath, pushing down his irritation.
'North, I'm fine; I really, really, need to go.'
'No Jack.'
'Yes.'
'No!'
'Yes!'
'NO Jack, I won't say it again!'
'Then don't! Just get out of my way!'
'I only want what's best for you!'
'I think I know what's best for me!' and you, Jack added silently.
'Well you obviously don't if you think you should be out of bed after cutting your head open, getting concussion and throwing up!'
'Don't tell me what to do!' Jack shouted, his anger and panic rising.
'I'm telling you what to do because you won't see reason!'
With that, North turned and slammed the door shut, locking Jack back in the room.
In the quiet that followed, North could hear the angry breaths of Jack through the wood. That went silent and was followed by the padding of his bare feet and a sudden SMASH of glass. Before North could unlock and open the door, Jack was gone, staff and all.
Bunny came running to where North stood, staring into the empty room.
'What's wrong mate? I heard shouting, is Jack alright?'
'He- he wanted to leave but I wouldn't let him, we argued and he smashed glass… and left. He was acting very strange Bunny.'
Bunny looked over North shoulder and surveyed the scene. Glass covered the whole floor and where there had once been large, ornate, stained glass windows, there were now gaping holes, letting in the cold wind and snow of the North.
'Hmmm,' Bunny pondered for a moment, 'How old is Jack?'
'Three hundred and seventeen.' North said without pause.
'No I mean when he… died, sort of.'
'Oh um… fifteen, I think.'
'It could be a teenage thing then.'
'But Jack has been teenager for more than three hundred years!'
'Yeah but he spent most of that time alone, maybe it's only starting now. I'm sure it's just a phase.' Bunny said in that patronising tone that makes all teenagers' blood boil.
North sighed, 'I don't know what to do with teenager,' He said the word like it was foreign on his tongue,
'I'm sure we'll work through it,' Bunny said, putting a hand on North's shoulder. What's the worse that can happen?'
Jack flew as far away as he could, as quickly as he could. He ended up in some snow covered mountains somewhere and finally allowed himself to breathe. He stood at the summit and around him swirled a huge snowstorm. He threw all of his energy into it and it grew larger and more violent until eventually, Jack's power dwindled and he sunk to the ground in exhaustion.
His head throbbed, his skin crawled, his stomach churned and he felt weaker than he ever had before. But as he felt around for what small amount was left of his power, he felt his control tighten over it once again.
'Nothing was wrong,' he thought determinedly, 'It must just have been my head, there's nothing wrong with me' and with that thought, he fell asleep where he had collapsed in the snow, his staff cradled against him.
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