Jack groaned softly as the sun streamed through the window and onto his face. He opened his eyes and looked over at his alarm, and saw that it was 8 am. He was hoping to sleep in today, but apparently his brain had other plans. Jack sat up on the bed, coughed up some mucus, and shuffled his way out of his bedroom. He made it to the family room before he fell on the couch face first. His lack of motivation to move kept him in that position of half on the couch, half on the floor until North walked into the room.
"Good to see you among the living," North chuckled deeply before making his way over to Jack and gently shook his shoulder. "I think you should try landing on the couch next time." North mused, then patted Jack on the back and went into the kitchen. Jack refused to move from his somewhat uncomfortable spot. His mind began to wander as he thought himself a waterfall; the couch was a plateau and the carpet was a field below. He was the water of course, pure and blue and freezing cold. He wished he had a blanket at that moment and longed for the warmth of his bed, but lacked the strength and motivation to move. If only he could talk to the wind, he could just ask it to fly him over to the bed, but, as it may be, all of the windows were closed. Just to think, the spirit of winter, brought down by a simple cold; the irony was overwhelming. Jack chuckled at the thought, but the extra effort put on his lungs caused him to start coughing again. He was doing an awful lot of that for a cold. Being present mostly in winter Jack was pretty good at spotting his season's normal cold and flu symptoms.
"Jack, how about we move you onto the couch?" Jack mumbled something softly in reply and North set down his cup of cocoa and helped Jack onto the couch. The boy was burning up, but not enough to give him reason to take him to a medical facility. A bit of rest should do the trick, and with today being a Friday, Jack would have all weekend to recover. His teachers were forgiving enough when North had called a few minutes ago and Jack would not need to worry about that. One less stressor on the boy is a miracle all on its own.
"North, what will happen to Christmas?" North flinched at the question, not expecting it out of the half conscious boy on the couch.
"How do you mean? We will celebrate like we do every year." North laughed, trying to sound casual about it.
"No, you are Santa and stuff. Don't you have to check the lists… or something?" Jack mumbled dazedly into his blankets. North leaned down in front of the boy and frowned. He hadn't heard Jack talk like this since that week after the accident. Trying to convince Jack that he was a human and North was not Santa Claus, and Aster was not the Easter Bunny was hard enough. When he met Sanderson, it became worse.
"Jack, remember that conversation we had a few months back when-"
"No, North, I know it's true. You are Santa, and Dr. Mansnoozie is the Sandman. That's why I always lie… lie down and…." Jack's rambling trailed off as sleep consumed his mind. North shook his head and stared at the boy. This might become a problem if he keeps it up.