"1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4." The droning chant echoed through the vast space of the large training hall. If you looked from a distance, you would see a flame-red head dressed in black, leading a white-locked Winter spirit through the more advanced steps of Bōjutsu. If you got close enough, you would see the light trickle of moisture on the ginger, and the waterfall of sweat on the White-haired boy.
Yes, Jack had come far with his training in the past two weeks. He had made true to his promise, and put his blood, sweat and tears into improving himself. He was now what Alex called 'mostly intermediate', whatever that meant. At the moment, he had thrown himself into training, as usual, and was looking forward to another training session with Steve, which by the way Alex was pushing him, was coming up within the next few minutes.
"Good... Jack! Just... watch... your... FOOTING!" He shrieked, using his weight to push forward against the crossed where his Bō crossed with Jack's staff, quickly pull away, leaving Jack off balance, and swing his stick as hard as he could at Jack's poorly placed feet. That made 9 times in a row, one every day. Jack never it coming, and it usually happened too fast for him to counter it, or to fly up out of the Bō's path. He grunted, and pulled himself to his feet with a scowl.
The boy looked his partner dead in the eye. "Why."
Alex gave him a grin. "Your left foot was facing inwards a little too much. As your teacher, it is my duty to correct it." He paused at Jack's blatant scoff. "Plus, if I don't put you on your ass at least once a day, who will?" Jack's scoff turned into a sigh, which then turned into a cheeky smirk.
Alex eyed him warily. "Jack, - AAH! HEY THAT'S COLD YOU SICK BASTARD!"
Jack grinned triumphantly at the small patch of ice residing under Alex's armpit. He knew damn well that if Alex had the choice of a mission in a somewhat cold place, or the Sahara Desert in the middle of July, he would always choose to endure the heat. The cold was not a strong point for Alex Summers, and it made their partnership all the more interesting.
"Aww, Jack! I can't get it out from underneath my suit, it frozen to the fricken material! Now I have to melt it myself." He groaned. Jack snorted, but didn't say anything.
Steve enters the room, looking tranquil and peaceful as usual. That was until he saw Alex with his suit half-unzipped and his hand under his armpit, in an attempt to melt the ice. Steve gave Jack a deadpan look, and walked over to Alex.
"What did you do." He sighed.
"I knocked him on his ass for the 9th time in a row!" Alex answered, pulling his hand out of his suit with a wince and zipping it back up again. With a final narrow eyed glance in Jack's direction, Alex picked up his gym bag and exited them room. Jack caught the solemn promise in his green eyes and groaned loudly.
Steve raised his eyebrows. "What?" He asked.
"It's chick flick night tonight." The spirit answered glumly.
"How do you know? I thought Alex chose the movies randomly?"
Jack scowled. "I saw it in his eyes. He's going to make me watch that notebook movie, I know it."
"Well Jack, it's like I've taught you. Every action you take and decision you make have consequences. Whether you step on a land mine or an ant, that single step you have taken has affected something in the world."
"Yeah, I know. But what would you have done?"
The super soldier dropped his bag down and looked at Jack. "I would've moved my left foot outwards a little more." He replied.
Jack's mouth twitched. "I guess the super enhanced hearing does come in handy, doesn't it?"
Steve ignored his last comment and stepped into a basic defence stance. Jack grinned. He often thought that using his powers on Steve would trigger some kind of bizarre memory of being trapped in the ice, but Steve didn't seem to mind too much. As long as Jack kept it above the waist and below the neck, that is.
The soldier began the lesson with a brief rundown of what they were doing. They were skipping out on the actual lecture today, and getting straight into action. Jack begun the lesson by hurling an ice-ball straight for the middle of Steve's chest. The soldier side-stepped with a practiced ease. Jack grinned devilishly, and soon had Steve dodging flurries of loosely packed snowballs, using them to keep him at bay, whilst Jack tried to find some ground. It was hard though.
Steve seemed to take a step forward for every step he was knocked back. With an exasperated wave of the staff, Jack dumped a huge pile of snow on top of the super soldier's head, or rather his whole body.
If you were watching in the side-lines, as Fury was, you would've laughed outright at the cheekiness of the white-haired kid. But not the super-spy. He merely grimaced. He knew what is was like trying to dig your way out of snow. It wasn't easy, or pleasant for that matter.
He had been watching progress for some time now. Jack and Alex Summers worked rather well together, just as Fury had expected. Fury had a feeling about that guy. He knew he would be good to keep around. A spy usually learned to trust their gut.
Alex had proven to be an excellent teacher, and almost had Nick Fury considering asking him to teach Bōjutsu to the rookies. He, himself had certainly found the martial art extremely useful on more than one occasion. He hoped to God Jack would master the art as well, if he wanted to properly utilise that staff of his. The kid had a killer swing, but he wasn't quite there yet when it came to his focus. He was too easily distracted by the little things. He would stop fighting to stare at a chip in the floor, or a boot print that was bigger than his bare foot. It was so strange, but Fury figured it was a phase, so he put it in the folder that housed his lesser problems.
The black-clad Man stared scrutinisingly down at the pair who was well into a good sparring session. It was different from what usually went on, and that was because Fury had made damn sure of it. He had stopped Steve in the hall that morning, and given him strict instructions for today's training with Jack. Now, he got to sit back and see how his little experiment would play out. He wanted to see how the kid would respond to anger.
Fury watched as the agents he had prepared files into the room, yelling obscenities at Steve, and separating him and Jack. Jack was too stunned to move, and let himself be pushed around. Steve was 'fighting' off a few of the agents, who were all wearing black masks that moulded to the shape of their face. After a few minutes of struggling, Jack seemed to snap out of his daze and jump back into the writhing mass, where Steve was trying fight his way through.
Fury sounded a beep in the room, and exactly six hand chosen agents rushed forward and dragged Jack back, attempting to pull his staff away. The kid clung in to it for dear life, and could only watch as more and more of the agents 'overpowered' Steve.
One of them hit him over the head with a rather brutal amount of force, and Fury cringed. He knew Steve could handle it, though. But something strange happened. Even as the many agents continued to cling onto him like drowning cats, Jack began lifting up off of the ground, and started to glow.
'What's going on? Why the hell isn't Steve fighting back?' Jack didn't know the answer to any of the questions that rushed through his brain. He was getting angry, an anger he had never felt before, not this way. He struggled for control for a short while, but stopped completely when he saw Steve pass out. Someone had hit him over the head. His friend was bleeding.
The spirit's eyes went wild, and all he saw as he rose into the air was a vivid blue, and the outline of the writhing mass of bodies. He didn't even feel the heavy weight of the string of agents holding onto his legs. Jack was on autopilot. He felt the rage build up beneath his hands, and barely registered the faint ringing of the alarm, or even the fact that the agents had dispersed. He pointed his crooked staff at the people that still surrounded Steve, and let all of the sheer rage and raw energy loose. Speaking bolts of what looked to be frost-lighting ripped from Jack' staff.
But he missed his target. How could've he had hit it with the ever vigilant Christine clinging onto his leg? She saw what was going to happen, and made a move to prevent it. She saw, that Jack, he...he wasn't himself. He was...different. The temperature dropped right away, his hair began to float up around him, and his pale skin had glowed blue. And his eyes... It wasn't right.
So as she saw Jack point the staff at the crowd beneath them, she swung all her weight forward, making sure that the atomic blast of ice hit the re-enforced ceiling instead. It was blinding. So powerful it cut out the electricity and lit the room back up again because to the sheer intensity of the light. That's not to say it didn't leave a mark. The titanium-enforced roof twisted and groaned under the pressure of the icy hit. A wave of sheer cold ricocheted throughout the room, knocking over the ranks of agents or sending them flying to the far walls. Christine felt, rather than saw Jack go limp and pass out.
Thinking quickly, she clung onto Jack, gripping him in a bear hug, and rolled herself underneath him just before they hit the hard ground of the training floor. All the breath was knocked out of her, and her vision blurred around the edges as she shoved the unresponsive kid off of her chest. Steve was already rushing forward, quickly checking over Jack before helping her up. He ripped off her black mask and she gasped for breath.
Embarrassed from his attention, she shoved Steve away and attempted to stand on her own two feet, but only achieved in falling over again. Her vision was spotted black, and she felt numb. The searing burning in her ankle was nothing compared to the pounding in her head. After a few seconds, she passed out altogether.
Jacks dreams were filled with hazy images of figures in masks and devastating ice-storms. He found it hard to remember much, but one thing stood out among the blurred images. Jack was standing on an endless ice flat, watching a figure in a fluttering black cape, taking slow, agonising steps forward, dragging a glowing blue sword behind it. The person looked downright sinister, clad in it's black armour. The armour itself was unusual. It was mostly black, but if you looked hard enough, one could make out the strange flashes of royal blue. The way the blue swirled through the armour and cape, made it seem as if they were alive.
Another striking feature was the glowing silver hair. The figure, Jack had presumed to be a male, had his head facing the ground as it stepped forward. His silver hair spilled down the side of his face, lightly dusting over his padded shoulders. The sword glowed brighter and brighter as he got closer and closer, and Jack could make out the flowering ice patterns that were etched along it's razor sharp length. In his dream world, Jack gasped and took a step back. They looked so much like his own...
It seems the figure was only moving slowly so Jack could get a proper look at him, because as soon as his eyes wandered, the armoured man rushed forward, stopping only four feet away from Jack and bringing his sword above his head. Jack tried to fly away, but it was no use. His feet were planted firmly to the ground. The figure raised the sword higher, and it glowed so bright Jack had to squint his bright blue eyes.
With a motion so fast, Jack would've missed it if he blinked, the man slammed the sword into the ice, splitting it straight down the middle. The cracking sound echoed throughout the land, and Jack felt himself shiver. He watched, frozen, as the figure bent over the sword, gasping for breath. After a minute, Jack peered down at him, leaning closer. With a sharp movement, the sword-man whipped his silver head up and found Jack's eyes. Bright blue eyes met copies of themselves, and Jack gasped again. He shivered at the evil feeling resonating from the man, and tried to look away. It felt as if he was staring directly into Jack's soul.
The ice was still cracking, and the Winter spirit found himself sinking as the ice began to fall away. The man stood up, and looked down at Jack, the wind whipping his silver locks about his narrow face. With a final crack, the ice fell away completely, and Jack drifted back into the abyss of darkness...
Jack awoke to the sound of a recurring beeping and the patter of footsteps across from where he was laying. His staff was leaning against the pasty white wall next to him. He groaned aloud, and tried to sit up, but the dizzy feeling in his head pulled him back down again. A woman dressed in white rushed over and shone a torch into his eyes, making him groan again and cover his face. He saw Steve, who he didn't notice was beside him, lean over his body, looking worried. Jack watched with amused interest as the woman shooed him away. Steve gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, but the lady wasn't having any of it. She sharply instructed the super soldier out of the room, "IMMEDIATELY".
With a final glare at the door Steve had exited from, she turned and walked over to Jack. Her no-nonsense attitude had softened a little, and Jack found himself relaxing from the tense atmosphere of the room. "How're you feelin' hun?" The woman asked warmly.
Jack tried to say he was fine, but it came out as a pained groaned when his head decided to thump painfully. The woman chuckled. "I thought so. SUSAN! BRING THE PILLS!" Jack winced at the loud sound of her voice.
A bored looking girl entered the room carrying a tray with water, some small white things and a sandwich. Jack's mouth watered at the sight of the sandwich, and he looked at the girl expectantly. The girl's bored stare turned to where Jack was lying on his bed, and her eyes turned wide and fearful. With rushed movements, she shoved the tray into the older woman's hands and bolted out of the room as fast as her feet could carry her.
Jack's face fell. With his pounding head and sore body mixed in with the sudden heartache of the fear he saw in that girl's eyes, the frost spirit felt close to tears. His throat closed up as he remembered what had happened. The people in masks, Steve, the blast. Was anyone hurt? Why did he pass out? How long had he been out for? What the hell had he done?
The woman in white sighed, and placed the tray on Jack's bedside table. "You scared a lot of people hun, my young apprentice over there is only frightened of the rumours. It's not like she heard what actually happened. Captain America himself explained what went on. He's worried about you, and I'll let him in once you swallow those pills and finish off that sandwich, ok?"
Jack nodded dully, and set to the task of eating his food. Whereas moments ago he felt absolutely ravenous, now he didn't feel like eating anything at all. He had hurt people, he just knew it. Where are they now? How badly were they hurt? The door clicked shut as they nurse, who had been writing down something on a clipboard, left the room.
A few minutes, and half a sandwich later, the door opened and Nick Fury stepped into the room. "Jack!" He boomed. "I'm glad you're awake, we have a lot to discuss."
'You're telling me." Jack thought to himself.
The one-eyed master spy made himself comfortable in the small chair beside his bed.
"Now, I-"
The door burst open with a bang and an exuberant looking Alex rushed through the door, only to stop dead at the sight of Fury's glare. With a wide-eyes look of innocence, the red-head back out of the room, shutting the door with a soft click.
A moment of silence passed, and it was like Alex had never been there at all.
"Jack, you've been out for 4 days." Fury said simply, awaiting a reaction.
Jack shrugged. The agent raised an eyebrow at the seemingly uncaring kid. "That doesn't come as a shock to you?"
He shrugged again. "The most I've ever been 'out' for is over a month, I think. I'm not sure exactly how long. The director processed this new information pretty quickly. "Well, it was enough to make us all worried. The nurse says you're doing well. No concussions of broken bones. Just a lot of bruising."
"Did I kill anyone?" Jack asked quietly, refusing to look at Fury in case he saw how close he was to crying.
"No, just knocked em' out for a little while. The worst you gave anyone was a minor concussion, and that was because she was clinging onto your leg. If it weren't for her, a lot more people woulda' been in a lot more pain. So, I could say the whole thing went rather ok. I was expecting a lot worse,"
Jack's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you talking about? These people came in and tried to take Steve, and you say you knew about it? What if they had of taken him and got away? They could've KILLED him! I could've killed THEM!"
"Kid, calm down. Trust me, Steve was in no danger. He could've taken down al of those people with a flick of his finger if he wanted to."
"Why-"
"Why didn't he? Well that's because I told him not to. In fact, he had no choice in the matter. It was a test, Jack. To see how well you respond to fear. We needed to see how you would've reacted in a surprise situation. We're sorry to of have scared you like that Jack, but that blast, that thing you did, it could save lives, Jack. If you learn how to control it, imagine what you could do! You could take down waves of enemies. I get that you don't want to kill anyone, I get that. What I'm saying is, if you learn to control you're new power, you can use it without killing anyone, and you can use it to your advantage."
Jack stayed silent. He couldn't, wouldn't, look Fury in the eye. 'It was a test. Nothing more, nothing less. Those were agents under those masks,' Jack was disgusted by the idea that he had hurt his fellow co-workers. 'Who was the girl who hung on his leg?" Eventually, Fury got up and left, sighing to himself.
After only 10 minutes with his thoughts, Jack heard the handle turn and saw two cautious heads peak simultaneously into the room. He saw a flash of blonde and a flash of red, as Alex and Steve cautiously looked around the room. Probably cautious of the nurse. Alex grunted the all clear confirmation, and rushed forward.
"Jack! Oh my god you've missed out on so many movie nights. We'll have to spend all day catching up." He groaned. Jack smiled weakly, banishing his previous thoughts and focusing his attention on his talkative partner.
Jack smirked up at him. "Well, I knew you had one of those chick-flicks planned, so I decided to nap for a few days. Jack heard Steve snort from across the room. He still hadn't come over to Jack's bedside yet, and chose to stand by the doorframe, looking at his feet. Jack thought he looked like a kicked puppy.
Jack sighed. He was still mad at Steve, furious actually, but the spirit decided he had hurt enough people, and chewing out Steve for something he had no choice in, wouldn't benefit anyone right now. "It's ok, Steve. I know it wasn't your fault."
The soldier took a few cautious steps forward, looking unsure. Jack gave him a weak smile and he crossed the room, collapsing down into the chair Fury had occupied. Steve ran his hands through his sandy blonde hair and sighed to himself. "Jack, I don't know what to say. Fury stopped me in the hall, just as I was about to walk in. He told me the plan, told me not to hurt anyone and pretend to be overpowered by everyone else. Jack, I'm so sorry."
Jack yawned, making Alex yawn as well. "I'll kick your ass later Steve, I'm actually kinda tired."
Alex guffawed and Steve chuckled. "I'll be on my guard. Rest up, Jack. Fury wants you back in that training room by tomorrow."
Jack grimaced, and waved goodbye to the disappearing figures. He let his eyes drift shut.
His only dream started with bright, blue eyes. They surrounded his vision, made him shiver from head to toe. What was this strange feeling? He felt like he needed...warmth. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in front of a warm, crackling fire. Was Jack Frost, the bringer of Winter... cold? Jack blinked, and the eyes he was staring into disappeared. The cold feeling left him, and he felt normal again. Except for the strange prickling feeling on the back of his neck, that is.
Jack whipped around to the sound of a deep growl, and spotted the figure about 10 feet away from him. How could that be? He was difficult to see, due to the thick fog that had begun to creep in and wash through the empty land. The growl sounded as if he were right behind him. Jack blinked again, and the figure disappeared. Jack's eyes widened at the sound of another, more threatening growl directly behind him. He looked over his shoulder, only to find the sword man at the same distance away, but this time, both of his hands were behind the back of his head.
Jack tried not to blink this time as he watched man carefully, but eventually his eyes began to water, and he had no choice but to blink again. He turned automatically at the fierce growl behind him, only to find the figure holding onto his sword.
Jack blinked. He was getting rather tired of this, and kinda wanted to get on with it, and get it over with. Jack heard a terrifying roar echo throughout his ears. So loud, and so frightening, it made Jack kneel down on one knee, scratching at his ears. He was desperately trying anything to make the sound go away.
All of a sudden, the air stilled, the snow stopped falling, and there was silence. Jack kept his head down, trying to recover from the sound that made his ears bleed, when he heard whispers. "We're coming, we're coming, we're coming," They echoed through the land like a broken record, sometimes overlapping the previous lot of words, sometimes leaving a gap of silence in between. The whispers began to mix together, creating a cacophony of noise, becoming faster and louder a deafening bang shot through the air, different from any other gunshot Jack had ever heard. There was a thud to his left, but the grey fog prevented Jack from seeing anything. All was silent, until the voices ripped through the air, all at once.
"WE'RE COMING!"
The frost spirit tried to scream, but his voice was raspy and soft. Jack looked up into the eyes of the figure once more. A deep, chilling voice that made him feel cold again, spoke. He didn't move his mouth, but the spirit heard loud and clear: "We're coming, Jack Frost."
Jack Frost bolted upright in his hospital bed. The digital clock above the door showed the time to be late, and instead of finding the room to be its usual crisp white, he found parts of it to be frozen. His entire bed, for instance, was covered in a fine layer of frost, as well as where the floor and bed legs met.
His half-empty glass of water stood frozen, and the ceiling fan had some impressive-looking icicles dangling from its blades. But the most noticeable thing, was the absolutely terrified looking young nurse, the same one from before, who sat crouched in the corner under the small, wooden desk. She was staring straight up at Jack, and was covering her mouth, trying to block out her screams.
Jack wasn't too sore anymore, so he got out of his comfortable frozen bed and cautiously stepped over to the frightened young thing. "Hey there, it's ok. I'm ah, sorry about this. It just happens sometimes." He said lamely.
She scooted as far away from him as she could, whimpering softly. "Please-please j-just don't freeze m-me."
Jack cringed as tears sprung into his ice-blue eyes. God, it was him that had terrified this girl to the point of begging. He had to let her know that he had no intention of hurting her,"Hey now, it's ok!" Jack reached forward to try and soothe her. Big mistake. She let out a piercing scream and Jack leaped away, flying up into the corner of the room by instinct. She wailed even louder, her uncontrollable sobs piercing through Jack's brain.
He had to get out of here. Surely someone had heard the crying girl already, and he didn't want to be here when they found her. What was he going to say? That he had a dream about a mysterious sword-man with silver hair and when he woke up the room was frozen and he found her like this? No, nobody would believe him.
Jack flew around the room, grabbing his staff as he went, and only managing to make the girl scream louder, and finally found an air vent. He struggled for a minute to get the thing open, and climbed in, just as he heard the handle turn. Jack half-crawled and half-flew through the metallic tunnels, desperately trying to get away. Everything was catching up with him. He could still hear the girl's screams school in his ears, could still feel the prickling stare of the Swordman on his neck.
Once he decided he was a safe distance away, Jack let himself rest. He sat down, put his head between his knees and cried. For the first time in over a century, Jack let the frozen tears flow. He remembered the fear he saw in the girls eyes, the fear he felt when Steve got taken away, the fear he felt even in his dreams. Jack Frost felt so weak, so... unable. He wanted to hit something and repair it all at the same time. He wanted to wail and scream at the same time. He... he didn't know what he wanted, he just wanted everything to stop. All the bad stuff he'd ever done, he wanted to forget about. But he knew damn well how hard it was to forget something horrible. Oh, how easy it was to remember to horrible things and forget the good. It had always been that way for Jack.
Normally, seeing someone upset or scared like this wouldn't normally have such a big effect on the spirit, but knowing that he had scared someone so badly, that he had almost killed so many people only a short while ago, it really took a toll on him. He felt like all this training, and hurting people had stripped away his innocence. Had stripped away the person he had been for nearly 300 years. God, how long had it been since he'd been flying? Jack lifted his head and sighed. He needed to go flying, he needed to think. The only way he could do that was to drift through the clouds, and let the wind carry him through the air currents.
Jack shifted, and began crawling through the winding tunnels once more. He'd only done it once, and it didn't end too well. But Jack found that crawling through the tunnels was kinda like being invisible again, which is exactly what Jack needed right now. He needed a break from everything, and if he couldn't go flying, well, this was the next best thing.
Jack sat and watched a few agents fight, armed with only a small dagger each. A huge man, almost the size of Steve, was paired with a petite, small brown haired woman, she had large doe-eyes, and gazed up at the man with an innocent smile. His friends, who were lounging in the sidelines, jeered and laughed at the stakes of the match, but the man himself didn't seem too confident. Jack found out why after only a few minutes.
The tiny girl knelt on the larger man's back, digging her knee in between his shoulder blades and twisting his meaty arm well past his head. She let him go with a somewhat apologetic smile, and Jack kept moving. Like last time, he saw the various scientists with their noses buried in various tests and observations. They idly chatted to each other as they moved around the clean place, occasionally spouting some scientific mumbo-jumbo.
Jack found it comforting. He liked to just...watch. It made him feel at ease, calmed him down. He smiled as two of the people in white coats bumped into each other, almost causing them to spill whatever they were both carrying. The two backed away from each other very quickly, eyes wide and wary. After they were a certain distance away, they sighed in relief and ranted about how disastrous the mixing of the liquids could've been.
He kept moving, observing the day-to-day life of the various ranks of agents the strolled through the vast halls of the Helicarrier. Jack heard some juicy gossip about people he didn't know and even caught his name in one of the agent's conversations. It was strange to hear the group of men in front of him say his name. It made some of his more recent emotions come back, making the frost spirit shake his head and keep moving.
What the White-haired being didn't realise, though, is that the sound of the staff he carried in his right hand made a noise audible from the outside every time he took a step forward with his right hand. Alex Summers, ever since dashing into a half-frozen room with a distraught girl and an open hatch in it, had been following that noise.
Sometimes he would lose the sound, and dash madly into one of the closest rooms, only to catch a faint echo of the noise and resume his following once more. He was scared for Jack, scared of what the kid had possibly done to make that girl so damn frightened! It most definitely wasn't like him at all, and Alex knew it would take some serious talking to get a detailed explanation from Jack about the event.
Right now, for the 4th time, Alex had lost the trail of tapping sounds above his head, and, for the 4th time, madly rushed into the room closest to where he had heard the noise. Bingo. He heard the tapping, louder than ever this time. Alex must've been right underneath him! He walked through the room, filled with broken and ripped boxing bags. The tapping got louder as he went.
When the agent did find the source of the tapping, he was still deciding to laugh or groan. For the tapping wasn't the sound of a Winter spirit moving through the vents of the Helicarrier, it was Steve Rogers, struggling at the painstaking task of skipping a rope.
Alex chose to laugh at the stumbling soldier, catching his attention. Steve blushed a light shade of red and cleared his throat. "Uh, hi, Summers."
Alex wrinkled his nose at the use of his last name. "C'mon Steve, only Fury calls me that. Call me Alex, Summers sounds way too formal."
Steve grinned sheepishly as Alex continued.
"So, why are you trying to skip a rope? Thinking of an alternative to fighting bad guys? I'm sure the U.S. Skipping team would love to take you on board." Alex said, waggling his eyebrows.
Steve blushed again, but managed to give Alex a deadpan look.
"Actually, one of the agents recommended it. They said it helps to get you to be lighter on your feet. More agile, quicker, you know?"
Alex shrugged. "Yeah, I've heard about that before. You need a little more practice though." He grinned.
"Yeah, I know. It's a hell of a lot harder than it looks, I suppose." Steve sighed, as he folded up his rope. After he had finished packing away his gym equipment, Steve looked up. His expression changed from amused and weary, to confused and concerned. "Why'd you come here, anyway? Is Jack ok?"
The look on Alex's face showed that something bad had happened, and a few minutes later, the two found themselves rushing madly from the room and into the halls of the ship.
The tears had started again. Had started to freeze their way down the top of Jack's cheek before plinking onto the metal floor of the vent. God, he was so embarrassed. He felt humiliated, after catching yet another, nastier conversation about him. Rumors had already spread far and wide, it seemed. The main topic of the conversation was Jack's 'brutal' performance in the training room, but there were whispers of how Jack had attacked a young nurse, and had escaped the Helicarrier. The tears had spilled over when he saw a group of armed SHIELD agents, patrolling the halls on the lookout for a rogue agent with ice powers.
Jack didn't stop this time. He was still crying, but he knew if he stopped, he would cry even more. He just wanted to keep moving, try to block out the resurfacing memories. He just wanted to go flying. It always helped to clear his mind. Manoeuvring through the erratic currents of the wind eased his thoughts, relieved him of the tension that sometimes filled his body.
Jack sighed with relief as the tears finally slowed, and eventually stopped altogether. He spotted an empty-ish room through the slatted view of the air vent, and eagerly began pushing on the hatch in an effort to get it open. As his pushes turned into frustrated kicks, Jack thought about why he had been so emotional. The spirit partially blamed it on that awful dream he had experienced before he woke up. 'What was that anyway?' He thought to himself.
The strange sound of a gunshot left him feeling uneasy. The thud that followed it didn't make him feel any better. Why did it all feel so ominous? Who the hell was coming? But most importantly, who was that guy with the sword, and why did Jack feel so strangely connected to him? The being, whatever it was, was evil and dark. There was no mistaking that.
The dream itself was strange. Jack very rarely dreamt, and when he did, it was almost never good. Usually replays or twisted retellings of some of the nastier events he had witnessed through his lifetime.
Jack's mind flashed back to the sword, remembering the jagged frost patterns he had recognised decorating it's length. It wasn't unlike his own, simply darker, more scarier. It didn't represent the fun, youthful frost spirit that was Jack Frost, it represented a dark, ancient being, capable of killing thousands. Nothing about this guy seemed good.
Jack tried to convince himself that it was only a dream, and nothing more, but it as just so damn hard to shake the feeling that he knew who the figure was. Knew what it was capable of. Knew that it was downright sinister.
But where had he seen the familiar figure before? He just... it was right there, in his mind, but every time he reached out to grab it, it slipped through his fingers. It was very similar to his memories, which made it all the more frustrating for the spirit.
There was a buzz in the conversation of the agents Jack had been tuning out until now. He caught various names, something about a top secret project at an even more top secret SHIELD base. Jack listened, eventually putting the bits and pieces of the story together. Apparently someone had asked where 'Mr. Coulson' was, and a group of 10 or more agents felt obliged to answer. They had whispered rumours of Coulson being assigned to. A top secret mission for SHIELD's most top secret project somewhere at a top secret base. It all sounded very glamorous.
Jack began to move once more, his staff tapping as he went. The spirit had only taken a few steps when the metal around him was twisted away, a very-familiar red-head, and a grimacing super soldier. Thank god the agents had all dispersed moments ago.
Jack tried to fly away, using his most advanced escape manoeuvres to try to wriggle free of the grip Steve had on his hoodie. But it appeared that the student hadn't become the teacher just yet, and Steve managed to toss Jack over his shoulder and carry him to an empty room. Jack realised as he flew out of Steve's grasp that it was a lunch room that looked like it must've crossed paths with a small tornado. Broken lunch tables littered the room, overturned trays were scattered across the floor.
Jack flew toward the very end of the room, as two concerned faces stared him down. Jack couldn't tell through his frightened haze if they were angry, upset, worried, their faces kind of blurred. He didn't want to face them, couldn't face them. This was going to be one hell of a chat.
A/N - First off, I want to apologise (again) for the series lack of chapters in this past amount of time. Just another serious case of writers block. Secondly, I want to say a HUGE big thank you to Brenne! For helping me out with fixing some of the errors in my story. For those who have commented, the story was originally in 1st person, and all that switching between 1st and 3rd is merely a result of crappy editing on my part. I will fix it up, but the days are getting shorter as school work stacks higher. *sigh* So it might take some time. I hope to have another chapter up soon. Sorry for all the angst in this chapter, I tried to write it as best I could, but I dunno, I personally don't like reading angst in a story (even though it makes it that much better) so I'll try to keep the angst on a down-low, okay? As always, any suggestions for where you might want to see the story go, and funny ideas that you want to see written, anything you object to, make sure you list it all in a review! You guys are seriously keeping this story going, love you all!