Set pre-movie.
Crying was not an option.
While he had been alive, Pippa had always looked to him for fun, laughs, and protection. He noticed when he was younger that if he cried, she was always soon to follow, even if she didn't know what they were crying about. So, over the years, he had eventually trained himself to throw up a wall between his emotions and his face whenever he felt in danger of breaking down. So now, two hundred seventy-six years later, without his memories to know why or how this habit had come to be, he was doing the same thing.
Over time, though, it wasn't as easy as it used to be. He found himself choking on his emotions not only more often, but more severely as well. Most often this occurred when he was walked through by a child. Adults were painful as well, but there was something special about the children. Every time one passed through him, ice ran through his veins to his heart, where frozen daggers of despair plunged onto it with each beat. It only lasted a couple of minutes, but each time blinking back the traitorous tears was more and more difficult.
So now, as he watched the little girl cry on her mothers lap, he was blinking fiercely.
She was seven or eight, with long brown hair. The bangs were pushed over her right eyes, and she had a smattering of freckles. He was drawn to this girl, though he didn't know why. He had the strangest sense of affectionate déjà vu when he saw her laugh or smile.
Jack had no way of knowing that in many years to come, this young girl would have a a child that would be the first to see him. He couldn't know that he would be drawn to her brunet, freckled son in the same way he was to her. And he wouldn't know for about twenty more years that that this had been because of their striking resemblance to Pippa. The only thing he knew right now was pain.
The girl had been called by her mother, and ran to the park bench where she was sitting. On the way, she passed Jack, who had been sitting on the curb where the sidewalk led to the snow filled play ground. As she made to step up the curb, she misjudged, and slammed her shoe into it, throwing off her balance. He reached instinctively to catch her, but she fell right through his helping hands. He gasped, caught off guard. He could only watch as she landed on her outstretched fingers, awkwardly, jamming them underneath her. She sat in shock for a moment, then began to cry.
She climbed to her feet, then ran straight though the middle of Jack's chest, clutching her trembling hand to her chest. Jack nearly doubled over, grasping his torso numbly. He watched as her mother smoothed her hair back soothingly, kissing her red fingers. The girl gave one last hic, then crawled into her mothers lap to absorb her comforting words and embrace. Jack lowered his gaze, then lifted into the air.
A few minutes later, he was sitting at his lake, head heavy in his hands. He tried. He truly gave an honest effort to keep the tears that were burning his eyes at bay. But every time he had been unseen, unheard, unnoticed, fell on him, and he gave in.
Great salty droplets streamed down his face. He made no move to wipe them away. Once, he thought. I'll let it all out at once. Then never again. So he stayed like that for a while. He sniffled and sobbed, curling into himself. He let a few drops fall for each time he wondered who he was, each time he wondered why he was alone, each time he realized this was probably the way he would stay for the rest of his cruelly extended life.
After a few hours, his head lifted from his arms. The tracks that his tears had carved down his cold, pale face had dried, and he had a new hardness in his eyes. He stood, limbs cracking, like a Phoenix from the ashes. He patted the snow off of his back, wiped his nose, and rose into the air. He would be fine now. He vowed not to cry anymore, and he didn't. Not when Jaime Bennet passed through him, not when his mother denied his existence, not when the guardians looked at him with horror in their eyes on a broken Easter. He was reborn, stronger, and self reliant. Reborn for the better, the wall unnecessary to put up, for it was permanently in place. Behind it, he was safe.
Or so he hoped.
A/N: So... Yeah. I lied about the guardians being in this one. Hehehe, sorry? This one just kind of demanded to be written. one thing I always noticed in the movie was how Jack never cried. It makes me sad! I just want to pat his fluffy white head. I'll do my best to put the guardians in the next one, though!
Love, Mariah.