Sup thanks for all the patience and such, I don't know whoever is still reading this but I suggest to read though the other chapters again because they all have been edited and hopefully are more in character, more american mcgeeish. Thanks again :D

Jack sat on the bed, staring out into the icy wasteland behind the large bay window of the guest room that North had given him to stay in. The North Pole had become almost his second home, since the place was naturally icy and cold Jack had found it to be far more comfortable to be here rather than the Warren or Toothiana's palace.

The Warrens climate wouldn't keep Jack away from the grumpy, old Easter bunny though.

Jack and Bunnymund's relationship had gotten stronger over the time that they were guardians – even the grey bunny agreeing to train with the boy as his powers grew. As the frost spirit became stronger so did his not so innocent feelings for the older guardian.

Jack stared at his frosting finger tips, it seemed the more believers he got – the stronger he became, which he has been told is completely normal but what the other guardians couldn't explain the sudden aversion to anything warm or sunny Jack seemed to gain. It was a big problem, last time in the Warren he was staying to help paint eggs only to faint halfway through painting a snow flake on one of the eggs.

Bunnymund was frantic and often forced Jack to stay at the North Pole or the boy's lake, and having to be the one to venture out into the cold to Jack now.

'What's up Frostbite?' Bunnymund asked from the doorframe, he was leaning against the solid wood- missing his usual weapons he kept on his person, the Easter bunny was probably getting ready to go to bed himself.

'Couldn't sleep…not really wanting too either.' Jack sighed.

'If you had said that near Sandy, he would hit you around the block till you're flat on frosty arse.' Bunnymund laughed, crossing his furry arms over his chest.

'Thinking about my arse are you?' Jack smirked, Bunnymund spluttered at that.

'You're not tired either?' Jack asked as the bunny continued to look flustered.

'Not exactly, North pushed me into a spare room – I don't like sleeping outside the Warren.' Bunnymund explained, still neither in nor out of the room – winging his paws together.

'Come in, you shouldn't linger in doorways – it's rude.' Jack said, 'Or so I'm told.'

'I better stay out here frostbite…' Bunnymund shifted uneasily on his powerful feet.

'Surely, you would feel more comfortable in here…with me?' Jack asked, kneeling on the bed now and with a small smile – Bunnymund looked torn at the want of entering the room and the want of staying safe and in control out of the room.

'We can't Jack.' Bunnymund shook his head, turning away from the diming light in Jack's smile.

'Can't what?' Jack said crossly, but rolling off the bed, 'You keep saying no!', Jack stalked towards the window, the wind howled against the glass in the boys rage – the ice began to grow and spider web across the glass, he did not look towards Bunnymund.

'Jack, I like you but…'

'But what?' Jack began, 'I like you, you like me – what else is there to know?'

'We're not right for each other. I'm not right for you.'

'I don't care if you're a Pooka or the spirit of Spring!' Jack snapped childishly, 'It doesn't matter to me.'

'It matters to me!' Bunnymund bellowed but said softly, 'You deserve someone of the same kind.' Bunnymund closed his wary eyes and Jack took a step back – ice blue eyes going glassy with moisture.

'Look, you're young…' Bunnymund was trying to be reasonable, 'You have only known me for a short time…' the rabbit walked into the room reaching for the sprite but Jack flinched away.

'I'm 318 years old.' Jack mumbled, tears threatening to bubble over. 'I'm not a child; I haven't been for a long time.' Jack bitterly reminded the other.

'And I'm a couple of thousand.' Bunnymund said, the room temperature was dropping drastically. Jack's powers always had strong tries to his emotions. Bunnymund was trying not to show how cold he felt – the Pooka had a feeling it would upset the boy even more.

'But I think…I think I Io –'

'Please…. 'Bunnymund held a paw up to stop the boy, but the chill grew almost unbearable when sobs began to escape the boy.

Tears were dripping down the Jack's face now, sticking and almost instantly frosting on his skin – it resembled spider webs, the silk streaming from his eyes. It looked so hauntingly beautiful.

'Get out.' Jack said brokenly

Bunnymund stood his ground,

'I will not.' Bunnymund began, 'Not until I explain myself Jack.' The Pooka would be a fool to leave the winter sprite in this state.

'We are too different, you are winter and I am spring. Even if somehow this worked…Jack do you honestly think that if we enter this relationship would either of us come out unscathed?' Bunnymund said, 'Yes I like you, but we shouldn't be flippant about this.'

'You don't know that…' Jack pleaded to Bunnymund to reconsider, 'I'll be good, no more snow days near Easter…I swear.' Jack wanted to take a chance, he wanted to take a chance for Bunnymund – he will take a chance for Bunnymund. But Bunnymund seemed unwilling to take that chance.

'Don't make promises you can't keep Jack…' Bunnymund sighed, sitting on the bed with a grim look, 'We all know how your power is controlled by your emotions'

Jack turned to Bunnymund, 'Let's take a chance, take a chance for me…' he pleaded, he sat on the bed as well, leaning in to press a chilled kiss against the rabbits twitching nose.

Too hot, and too cold for each other – it was hell, being so close together but unable to go any further was agonising; Jack couldn't do it anymore.

Bunnymund pushed the boy away roughly; Jack flopped on his back on the bed.

'No.' Bunnymund rasped out, standing up out of reach of Jack.

Jack let a bitter smile twist his lips.

'Just go.' Jack closed his eyes, 'I wish I could forget about you and the others some days.'

Bunnymund stumbled back as though struck,

'Jack you know very well the reason why we can't be together…' Bunnymund said lowly but it was more painful than any shouting, 'If you are unwilling to see reason, I will leave.'

Jack didn't sit up, didn't have to – he heard the door rattle when Bunnymund slammed it with fury filled force. Jack curled into a ball on the bed, stubborn tears running down with face.

Jack had finally fallen asleep crying that night, the spider web frost grew on his cheeks and bed where he lay. Even on the bay window, but those designs looked strangely like many outstretched hands.

Jack Frost woke early that next morning, why? Because Phil shook him awake. At the sight of the Yeti, Jack quickly brushed away the frost tears that were still on his face. The yeti groaned something in Yetish, Jack still couldn't understand most of it but the beady eyes were flooded in concern.

'I'm fine Phil, I'm fine…' Jack rubbed at his eyes again, trying not to burst out in tears again. Phil grunted and groaned again, and making a punching action – it made Jack giggle a little, that he understood was yetish for ,' whoever made you cry, I'll make them cry.'

'Bet the kangaroo would just love that wake-up call…' Jack muttered, finally taking in his room…what was left of it really – the ceiling was covered in razor, sharp icicles; everything else was frozen to the ground and covered in a thin sheet of ice.

It was as though the blizzard of '68 hit just inside his room, everything wet, cold and a blinding shade of white.

'Oops…must have had a wicked night last night.' Jack tried to smile, but it just made his heart ache a little bit more. Phil grunted and nodded, the yeti then gestured to the iced elves that looked as though they tried to wake him before Phil – about five elves that North would put as MIA, frozen solid.

North walked in too soon after, the ice crunching under his boots as he stared at the room, the precariously pointed icicles on the ceiling ready to skewer anyone that dared to anger Jack – Jack was glad that none of them killed the elves… thankfully, his subconscious at the time had enough sense to determine how great the threat was.

'I don't remember putting those on the ceiling, ya?' North began voice quieter than usual – it was the safest way after all.

'You didn't, I was upset last night – that's all.' Jack shrugged, the excess frost began to shrink and melt away.

'When you're upset do you normally create a fortified fortress?' North stared with a brushy brow at the sharp points and edges of the ice.

'This is the first time I've done it since joining the guardians.' Jack stared at them a little dull eyed, 'They won't fall, and I won't let them…not on you anyway.'

North, at that promise took a confident step forward towards the young winter sprite.

'Ah, it is a defence mechanism.' North said kindly but sadly. The old guardian was just reminded on how Jack was so young compared to the others.

'I can only do it subconsciously.' Jack had said, it was the side of Jack he rarely let free – it was this side of him that made him think that Pitch might have been right about the whole, 'cold and dark'.

'This has something to do with Bunny, ya?' North asked, Phil grunted and groaned which seemed to incite rage in the Christmas spirit, 'What! You were crying?'

Jack sighed.

'I'll skin him and turn his hide in a new sack!' North growled.

'I appreciate the thought North, but just leave it be.'

'What about a stern talking to?' North punched his hand.

Jack stared out the window, it was then he noticed the odd pattern in his frost on the window – jack shuddered a little and looked away. North looked at it too, he carefully walked up to the boys bedside. His huge, warm hand clasped the boys' frigid shoulder.

'It is better if you let it out, ya?' North said staring at the window, 'Talk to me, Tooth or Sandy before you ice over my workshop or my elves.'

'I will next time.' Jack tried to smile, the frost melting slowly off the window revealing the golden glow of the early morning.

'What time is it?' Jack asked squinting in the sudden glare of light.

'It is 7am, we need to get ready – we're leaving as soon as everyone is ready.' North said. Jack noticed that North wasn't wearing his most casual clothes but it seemed to be his finest fur jacket, boots and pants.

'North what's with the get up?'

'Oh, this? It is something I put on for diplomatic meetings and such.' North watched the boy untangle from the covers, 'Even Bunny has his uniform.'

Jack froze a little at the mention of Bunny, but swallowed the pain and smiled.

'This is a formal occasion?'

'Not exactly, but with the spirits we are meeting with it would be best to make a good impression earlier on.' North explained and then looked at Jack in concern, 'But, if you would rather not go you can stay at the North Pole.'

'I'm coming but you're not going to get me to put on a monkey suit, North.' Jack frowned, North just laughed.

'Not to worry! You are not expected to…but if you change your mind…' North grinned as an elf walked in holding the box with the shoes that Jack had turned down before but another elf followed holding an ensemble of white, blue and a cloak.

'No.' Jack said flat out and the poor elves had to return grumbling to themselves.

'The cloak was too much, ya?' North said, Phil passed out hot drinks he must of bought in - North passed the coffee to the frost spirit, Jack sipped the coffee (the chill of the room made it more like an iced coffee now), and kicked the sheets off and picked up the hoodie he had thrown onto the ground before he went to bed – as soon as the blue fabric touched his skin, the frost cobwebbed on it.

Today though, there seemed to have more frost than yesterday – centred mostly on his chest (the romantic in him supplied it was covering his heart.)

'So…are we taking the sleigh?'

'Yes and no. Once the way to get into Halloween Town was in the dark forest, in Germany.'

'The forest?'

'Ya, but now a day it is easier just to take the train – Halloween town have a connecting line with the pole.'

'Is it faster than the sleigh?'

'No, but we well have less…annoying disturbances – while the Doll maker cannot leave, his minions have found a way to inhabit the airspace close to Halloween Town…' North said darkly but then added,

'For some reason we cannot go by snow globe, probably a lingering ward or spell by Pitch blocking us.' North then added with a huff, 'And ever since the time Jack Skellington wanted to be Santa for a day I had the portal between the pole and his town sealed.'

'Wait, since Pitch doesn't have his powers anymore we should be able to move freely – shouldn't we?'

'I say 'lingering' it would probably disappear soon, I am glad it has held so far – the same wards probably hold the Never Was closed, and stopping it from flooding the world.' North sighed.

'The Never Was? You guys keep on talking about it.' Jack muttered.

'It is an old place, a dark place. There was a guardian who had lived and ruled there as queen'

'What happened to the guardian?' Jack asked quietly.

'…She was the guardian of imagination…she is believed in, but she truly is not there anymore. No one is quite sure where she's anymore, some say they're still in the 'Never Was' others say that the madness overtook her mind.'

'So not a good place?' Jack asked.

'No, not a very good place at all – it is even said that all the forgotten…..'

'It's where all the forgotten spirits go?' Jack added. North had a pained look on his face at that sentence. 'Where I would have gone.'

'Nah mate, you would've been kicking and screaming all the way if they tried to drag you under.' Bunnymund walked through the door, decked out in his usual gear with a new green tunic like piece of clothing, Jack flushed at the sight of Bunnymund and the rabbit seemed keenly interested in his hems rather than the frost spirit. North looked annoyed at the rabbit and scowled,

'Well, when you are ready I will be by the sleigh.' North quickly exited and closed the door behind him to give the two spirits some privacy. The silence didn't last as long as Jack hoped.

'Jack.' Bunnymund begun only to have the teen walk coldly past the rabbit.

'There is nothing to talk about.' Jack said with a fake smile as he went past, the tall rabbit ear twitched at those words – the winter sprite left the older spirit to stare at the melting carnage of what Jack left behind.

'It's just a one-time thing, right Lock?' Barrel asked, they were all younger, the first time the snow came to Halloween Town. Shock was building a snowman; Lock was next to Barrel sitting on the grey stone wall.

'Probably, besides snow is cold, gross and wet. It doesn't have any real purpose – what's the point of it?' Lock let out his usual snark.

'Sometimes things don't need a point.' Shock grinned, the snow swirled a little and the snow man had a Jack – a- lantern face.

'…Even if you think that, the snow is still pretty.' Barrel caught the snowflakes in his hand, the coolness melting on his heated palms. How could something be so pretty, and so fragile be useless?

When Barrel turned back to Lock, he was nowhere to be found, Barrel then searched for Shock – but all he found was a knocked over snowman, the snow was all around and all consuming.

Squeak…squuueeeaaak.

Barrel had heard that sound before, but where?!

Barrel blinked awake, the squeak of the train wheels coming to a slow stop. The train conductor, an odd looking creature with a turtle body and ox head – with a glum expression did he say,

'Last stop, London land.'

"London land?" Barrel stuttered, 'I needed to go to Purgatory!'

'Did you? That was the stop just after this one.'

'You said this was the last stop though.'

'Did I?' the ox headed creature tapped his chin with a flipper, 'Oh, yes – well, the track is in need of some… maintenance.'

'How bad is it?'

'Not bad, not bad at all if you are in need of a quick trip and a sharp drop.'

Barrel stared at the creature, utterly and completely confused – the creature blinked sad eyes at him,

'Have a good day sir.' The creature said and then waddled off.

'Bloody Wonder landers.' Another passenger said next to him with a shake of his head, Barrel stared a little. He had ash grey skin, slender and green cat eyes and a mane of flaming red hair – he wore exotic looking clothes and strapped to his purple silk belt, heck, in another life and time he would be a young Pitch Black.

'Wonder landers?' Barrel muttered a little, engrossed with the look of the stranger's eyes – gleaming like polished emeralds in a dim, grey coal mine.

'Refugee's from the Never Was – once it was quite a nice place with the slight touch of madness that made it endearing; now it's a hell hole.' The man explained, flicking his strange eyes to the boy – Barrel couldn't help but stare at the reasonably attractive man.

Now, Barrel always knew of his preferences from the first time he actually saw Lock topless – he didn't like Lock that way (personality wise Barrel wouldn't be able to handle Lock as a lover), but generally found the male body attractive rather than the female one. When he first gate crashed a human Halloween party, he found himself in lip lock with a punk rocker with a Mohawk (name escapes him even now) – the boy was completely stoned and probably tried to forget that night as he got older, replacing his band t-shirts with suits.

Barrel was sure he had seen him, a few Halloweens ago; there was an uptight, handsome looking man being dragged by his little ghoul (a sheet ghost costume always makes Barrel's heart skip a beat). At one stage Barrel often pretended that he was part of that family, protecting the girl and teaching her the best Halloween tricks (all not being noticed by the father of course).

Barrel knew that he should've looked like that man in fount of him, aged and grownup but he was different, always too different.

The little ghoul grew up and swapped the sheet for a slutty nurse costume – she wasn't dragging around her father anymore, but a narrow faced boyfriend with shifty eyes.

Barrels first lover, the father of Barrel's pretend child, the one he didn't particular care for had died from cancer only in his sixties – when he told Shock and Lock this, Lock was cruel and harsh saying what a boring way to die. Shock, mind you this was back when she cared, asked if he was alright but quickly stated that the one eyed mummy had become quite handsome in later years.

In the long run, Barrel had preferred Lock's harshness rather than Shock's swiftly forgotten concern.

The way the other passenger carried himself reminded him of the human he had gave himself on that one Halloween, but the smell the very aura of this man was anything but human.

'If you need to get to Purgatory, there is another way.' The man grinned, showing his many pointed teeth, 'I can show you.'

'One shouldn't trust shadows, especially a shadow demon.' Barrel huffed a little, eyes narrowing did he stand up to exit the carriage.

'They're mischievous and like to play tricks.' Barrel walked out the door before it closed leaving the demon to stare after him.

'Don't be like that!' In a gust of shadow the demon flew out before the door closed, did the man appear next to Barrel on the grim and grey London land platform – the demons human like features up close seemed to melt and become more insect like, still frightfully attractive and beneath the demons fine cloak was what looked to be dragonfly wings.

'I can fly us there.' The demon clenched and unclenched his now clawed hands.

'No, the Doll maker controls these skies now. 'Barrel shook his head, 'No, I'm going to get a return ticket and go back…home.' Barrel huffed.

Barrel walked to the ticket booth and opened his wallet only to be met with a dead moth at the bottom.

'Huh? But I had my money right here…!' Barrel grumbled. The Ticket booth operator leered at Barrel for longer than comfortable.

'Sorry, 'bout that mate – but no exit visa and no money you only have only have one option…' The ticket booth operator gave Barrel a slow once over and licked his lips. The demon sided up towards the disgusted looking teen, grabbed the shutter of the ticket booth and slammed it with a sweet smile. The surprised swear of the ticket booth man bought a smile to Barrel's face.

'You're the one who fell asleep on a train going to London land.' The demon shrugged ignoring what had happened, 'the woe of public transport.'

Barrel glared at the demon with crossed arms, he wasn't going to say thank you to the other.

'Tell you what, I'll buy you a return ticket home if you go and have lunch with me.'

Barrel flushed at the demons cocky grin, tempted to say (or scream over and over again) no but he had to get home by tonight for Halloween. The reason he was trying to get to Purgatory today was to try and find Shock, her apartment in Halloween Town had all been abandoned and the only other place she could be is with Myra – a necromancer in Purgatory, quite well known and often visits during Halloween, and if anyone knew where Shock was hiding it would be Myra.

'Fine…' Barrel grumbled ignoring the stupid grin the demon had, already feeling the heat in his pale cheeks. They began to walk together up the stairs – in the soot, ash filled air of what appeared to be Victorian London; but it seemed to be of a child's memory, the allies were too sloping and narrow and some of the pillars of buildings were twisted like rotting tree roots with fungi growing out of it. There was a huge snail that was climbing the wall beside him with a glorious rainbow shell.

The bizarreness of this place wasn't matched by the monotonous colours that the woman and men wore, grim sunken in faces constantly in despair – cosets cutting into stomachs and top hats covered shifting, judging eyes. Barrel hated this place with a passion.

Barrel sighed and stared down at what was once the clothes he wore in Halloween Town, they changed into Victorian style clothes –of dirty shirts, unbuttoned jacket that didn't keep the heat in at all, dirty soot covered trousers and boots caked in mud. Barrel pulled his former baseball bat free (the satchel now made from worn out leather), once a glorious metal icon of America had turned into a flat on one side, wooden cricket bat.

Barrel glared at the object as though it was an insult to his person. Barrel swung it experimentally, to feel the weight and power of each swing.

The Demon did a bit better, dressed as a dandy gentleman complete with top hat and cane, a gun tucked away in his waistcoat and the cane probably had a hidden sword within the wood. Barrel felt a little embarrassed that next to the demon he looked like a street urchin but ignored the feeling to the of his ability.

'My human name is Lucas.' The shadow demon called Lucas grinned down at the pumpkin prince.

'My name is Barrel…only Barrel.' Barrel shrugged, they began to walk side by side down the ruined streets of London land, the foundations rotting and diseased; huge wasp nests buzzed and children were trying to catch leeches by wadding though stagnant water to sell to the doctors. Yet the inhabitants tried to make a living still, like this is normal.

It was almost as inspiring as it was pitiful.

'Hey, do you think they know that their world is rotting away?' Barrel asked, watching a young woman sell posies, forget-me-nots and roses – the only colour on the whole street was in those bright, but if you look closely, bug eaten flowers. She had flicked away a munching caterpillar with a scowl with one hand and shooed away a child with no money, but wished for a posy for her mother's grave with the other.

Lucas stared intently at the interaction, the woman didn't notice a shadow crawl up and pluck the nicest looking bundle there. The little girl sat a little away with a disheartened expression, the shadow sild on the ground like a snake dropping the flowers next to the girl. She noticed them with a start – looking wildly around for the person who got them. Finding no one she had then pulled at her rosary beads and tugged at the cross.

Barrel stared a little and gave a small smile to Lucas – opening the paper packet full with fish and chips and pulling out one to eat.

Lucas's smile turned to a frown at the very moment the child pulled out the cross but Barrel was pleasantly surprised still at the kindness though it was stealing.

'They choose to look straight ahead; they do not want to look around – it's no matter to me if they don't want realise the ruin eroding this place.' Lucas opened his own parcel munching on one of the burnt chips without a grimace (Barrel moved his burnt ones to the demons). They sat close together for a while, so long in fact that the ladies of the evening started to wonder out to find some clients to pay for the bread on the table, or to pay off a debt from their owner.

'Do you want to come to Halloween Town with me?' Barrel still doesn't know what got in him that day that made him invite the demon. Barrel many years later blamed the fish that day; it was probably from the Thames…London land version of the Thames anyway.

The demon mumbled something with a full mouth of fish, but he gave an affirmative thumbs up.

Barrel recalled from something he read, if in ancient Rome, that would sentence death…or was it life? Barrel would have to find out. They continued in delightful silence till it was time for the next train to arrive

Barrel had enjoyed the company so much that he had forgotten the hard choice Lock gave him preferring the story the well learnt demon had told – the words caressed and worried his imagination till sleep came knocking on the trip home.

Barrel was asleep and resting on the demons shoulder, Lucas gently stoked the boys jaw and laughed softly staring at the boys' peaceful face,

'Mother was wrong; Wonderlandians are not all bad…' Lucas held the other closer when Barrel burrowed further into his side with a sleepy mumble.

TBC…

Yep, Barrel is originally from Wonderland, dun dun DUN! – sorry about the OC demon but there is only so many demons I know of in my movie/game collection. There are brief mentions of some other characters throughout the chapters to come but very brief :D thanks for being patient.