Oooohhh, is this an update? Indeed it is, people.
I'm sorry it's taking me so long to actually get this fic done and over with, but I have been busy and do have a life other than this site. (Believe it or not.) Plus, I just got back from my Choir trip to San Francisco, so don't expect me to be all happy and cheery. I'm still exhausted.
Anywho, now that I'm done ranting…
There's a surprise last second appearance from an OC in this chapter! Don't worry, he won't be making an appearance again in this fic, but he will be a part of the plot.
Warning: There is a lot angst and hurt in this fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.
Summary: He had always been alone. Now he's struggling to find his place with the Guardians. Sequel to What's Left of Me.
o-o-o-o
Several more days went by with barely an appearance from Bunnymund or Jack, and to be perfectly honest, North was very nearly at the end of his chain. It was well known around the 'Spirit Community' that Santa wasn't actually as patient as some made him out to be. Nonetheless, credit was duly given for the Russian to have lasted several days. Usually, something like this would have made him crack long before.
"That is it!" he bellowed one day after staring blankly at a piece of ice for three hours. "No more fancy dancing!"
The yeti around North shared confused glances for a good long moment before they realized who the Russian was talking about, and then their eyes widened as they realized what this could mean if he meant to take matters into his own hands. Frantically, they gestured at the large man not to do it, chattering away and telling him why it would be a very bad idea to try and confront the two Guardians, but North was having none of it. Brushing off their protests with hardly any effort, he briskly stepped over to the wall and grabbed his velvety red coat off the hook, slinging it over his shoulders gracefully before beginning to rummage around in the pockets for a snow globe.
"Bunny and Jack need talking to." He barked at the yeti as they surrounded him, snatching the snow globes out of his pockets and passing them to the furthest edges of the crowd. "Out of my way!"
However, the yeti weren't as unintelligent as most made them out to be, and they argued right back about why it wouldn't be a good idea to hunt the two spirits down. Unfortunately for North, there really wasn't any other option but to listen to the points that they brought to the one sided conversation and then decide what to make of them.
"Yes, Jack is still recovering. So is Bunny! They working too hard!" North bellowed, attempting to shoulder his way through the mob of yeti. This was definitely not the best way to go about things, considering the fact that the yeti forces had had to deal with a Winter Spirit by the name of Jack Frost for three hundred years, attempting to get into the workshop. Therefore, North was much easier to pin down, mostly due to the fact that he couldn't float around on that blasted wind or turn them into ice sculptures the same way that Jack could.
Said Russian was highly unamused with the mutiny.
When he was eventually able to escape the furry paws that held him back, he glared at them sourly before storming off. Obviously, this particular tactic wasn't going to work on his work force. But it didn't mean that he was giving up, oh no. It just mean that he had to resort to plan B.
After all, Santa did ride a sleigh.
o-o-o-o
Jack was leaning against the tip of the Eiffel Tower, his frost blue eyes unusually blank as he looked over the night lit city of Paris. He could hear the faintest sounds of laughter, of music and people as they blissfully lived their lives. They didn't have to live the life that he did, surrounded by everything that he wanted nothing more than to erase.
"You look troubled, my friend."
The Winter Spirit started, leaping to his feet and automatically calling out to the ever present frost that danced at his fingertips threateningly.
The male in front of him grinned easily, the black feathered mask covering the top half of his features almost looking alive in the dim light. Silver hair tumbled easily around his shoulders, and a pair of bright grey eyes blinked at Jack mischievously. He wore a white tunic that appeared as though it were from a medieval period, and his long legs were clad in a simple pair of loose white pants. His feet were bare, though it didn't particularly matter due to the fact that he was stepping on thin air.
"Easy. I'm not here to cause trouble. Not for you, at least." The male flashed a quick grin, shrugging his shoulders, making the silver strands that framed his face fan out.
"Who are you?" Jack asked curtly, blue eyes narrowed. The frost at his fingertips didn't disappear in the least, and especially not as the other male stepped closer.
"To them," the teen shrugged with a nod down below, "They call me Mischief Night. Of course, the name varies, so I suppose I don't quite know who I am. But you're Jack Frost. Very difficult to go wrong with a name like that, isn't it?"
Jack paused for several long moments to simply take in the grinning male in front of him. He wasn't entirely sure of what to make of the guy, for starters. He was laid back and not really posing any sort of threat to him in the least. The only thing that he had really done was sneak up on him while he was thinking.
"I suppose you're wondering which of the wondrous spirits I am?" Mischief Night chuckled lowly, grey eyes beginning to glow eerily as he moved ever closer to the Winter Spirit. "I'm the introduction of sorts to Samhain, Halloween, Hallowmas, whatever you'd like to call her. Officially, I've only been around for about…two hundred fifty years, give or take, but unofficially…well, I'm older than you."
"You're...what?" Jack blinked.
Mischief Night laughed, the black feather mask shifting with his features seamlessly. "I'm named Mischief Night for a reason, Jack Frost." He purred, tossing his mane of silver back. "I wander and roam where I please, and once a year it's my time to shine. Of course, Samhain always gets the credit, but that's the fun part, isn't it?"
A deck of cards appeared between slender fingers, and Mischief Night shuffled with skilled fingers before nimbly plucking a card from the top. His eyes were still alight, but there was now a darker gleam lingering within.
"You've recently been through a war." The male said idly, studying the painted image on the card. Jack couldn't tell what was there, but it didn't matter. Mischief Night plucked another card from the deck, his lips curling into a smile.
"You're feeling torn between something. A love interest, perhaps?"
Another card plucked and held up.
"And you're struggling to find yourself. Interesting, indeed."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack snapped.
Mischief Night flashed another quick grin as the deck of cards disappeared again, and he stepped back, putting his palms out in an unconcerned fashion.
"That's for you to figure out, isn't it?" the other spirit threw back his head and laughed before spinning around and disappearing into thin air. A moment later, the sound of a portal opening behind him gave the Winter Spirit only seconds before he found himself yanked backwards into North's familiar grasp.
o-o-o-o
"What the bloomin' hell do ya think you're doin'? Put me down, mate, Ah ain't no prize!"
The two yeti carrying the irritating Pooka garbled out apologies and set the Guardian on his paws, making sure that they could grab him should he make yet another break for it. Bunnymund flattened his ears at the pair before hopping over to the fireplace, lifting his frozen paws for the flames to warm.
"North had better have a bloody good explanation for this one, mate." The Pooka snarled under his breath.
"I have good reason, Bunny."
Bunny turned, and he couldn't help but let his jaw drop at the utter ridiculousness of the Winter Spirit that was slung over the Russian man's shoulder. However, he quickly snapped it shut in favor of giving his long-time friend the dirtiest glare he could muster.
"If ya wanted ta see me so bad mate, ya shoulda just used the bloody lights."
"Is not a Guardian matter." North waved off the Pooka's complaint. "This about you and Jack. We know something wrong between two of you. Fix it."
With that, he plopped a fuming Jack onto the floor. His white hair was sticking out in every direction, and if he wasn't a Winter Spirit, Bunnymund swore that there would be flames dancing in his eyes.
"Maybe I don't want to be fixed?" the teen spat venomously. "What then?"
"This is not just about you, Jack. Everyone worried about you. You distant from us. We want nothing but best for you."
"Well your best isn't good enough." The youngest Guardian hissed before the frost surrounded him, disappearing as he did. North immediately turned to face Bunnymund, face creased in determination.
"Go after him."
"What?" Bunnymund sputtered. "Ya drag me all the way here just to tell me to go after Frostbite? Ah don't think so, mate! Not happenin'."
North gave him a look.
o-o-o-o
Of course, Bunnymund already knew where Jack was hiding. It was a place that made him feel safe and threatened and everything in between, and he was surprised that North hadn't realized where Jack would be hiding.
It was also the one place he knew that Jack would be able to actually sit and think.
So when the grey Pooka stepped into the monastery, he was startled to see Jack flowing through a set of complicated movements at astounding speeds, his limbs whipping out before being pulled back towards his body in a thrilling dance. He would have expected him to be moping, something, but definitely not this. He had never seen the Winter Spirit doing anything like this. When had he learned how to do it?
Jack growled lowly, ducking down and jabbing out with his heel before spinning back up to his feet and flipping back agilely, his brows creased into a frown.
Slowly, Bunnymund moved over to a wall to observe Jack, taking note of the deftly controlled movements and was left in near shock. The Winter Spirit was nearly flawless in the forms that he was going through, each one of them perfectly suited to the lithe frame behind each sharp jab and kick. Of course, there were a couple of issues with a few of the stances, but that could just be from lack of experience and not necessarily something that Jack was doing wrong.
"Are you done staring at me?"
The Pooka started. He hadn't thought that Jack would realize he was here.
"Ah came to check in on ya, mate."
"I don't need a babysitter." Jack spat back, crossing his arms and jutting out his chin rebelliously. "So run along back to your Burrow, rabbit."
Although there was the rage simmering in his gaze, Bunnymund could also see the pain there, the emotions that he didn't dare let anyone else see. It put a great sense of duty on Bunnymund's shoulders, and if there was one thing that he knew how to do, it was to take charge of a situation.
"No." he drawled, looking over the back of his paw. "Ah don' think Ah will."
There was a stiffening in Jack's shoulders, and the Pooka inwardly felt relieved. At least he knew that he could get through the barriers that were set up neatly in the Winter Spirit's mind and worm his way under his skin. It meant that he would be able to have a good long chat with the teen. It just meant that he would probably have to get into a direct confrontation first.
"In fact, Ah think Ah'll stay right…here." He emphasized, plastering a smirk across his features. He received a dark glower in return, and then the younger Guardian lunged.
Luckily, the Pooka anticipated something like that happening, and easily sidestepped, falling into the familiar forms that he himself had studied for a great many years. His paws remained relaxed as Jack whirled and came at him again, only coming up to block twice as the Winter Spirit threw blows at his face.
It was quickly decided, however, that he would have to rethink this brilliant plan of his, as he became aware that Jack was simply lashing out and not actually thinking through his actions.
He fell into a pattern, wondering if the angry teen coming at him would clue into what he was doing or if he would simply continue until he exhausted himself. Either was possible, really. Bunnymund was now beginning to understand that there was still a lot about Jack that he didn't know about. The fact that he knew a martial art, for one, was something that he would have never thought possible, but that theory was being pushed right back into his face. Literally, in fact. Another was that he was still acting distant, even though he knew that he had feelings for him.
The thought caught the Pooka off guard, and it allowed Jack to get a heavy blow to the jaw in.
Bunnymund stumbled back a half step, blinking as he took in what he had just thought. Jack had feelings for him. How the hell had he managed to figure that one out? Was it even true? There was still that one little part of him that was crowing with relief. He had a chance with the Winter Spirit, but the majority of his mind was telling him that it was a figment of his imagination. There wasn't any way that Frostbite would actually have feelings for him, right? Sure, he had gotten a lot closer to the Guardian than he was sure anyone else had gotten, but that didn't necessarily mean that they had become that close.
He was brought back to the present by Jack, though not in the way that he would have expected.
The Winter Spirit actually looked horrified that he had hit the Pooka, and his hands were limp at his sides. His blue eyes were astonishingly wide, and his jaw was slightly parted.
"I'm sorry." He breathed, looking torn between running and staying to see if he was alright. Either way, all that was running through the Pooka's mind was the smug thought that he was right. Jack Frost had feelings for him.
And he had feelings for the Winter Spirit.