Jack Frost had almost completely frozen over.
He knew it, too. He knew he would never be able to see his little sister. He knew he would never get to see the Guardians again. He knew he would never get to see Anna or Kristoff or Olaf again.
But what hurt most was not being able to see Elsa.
To see how she overcame her fear.
To see how she accepted her powers.
To see how she would accept her sister back into her life.
He knew as well, that there would be many things he would not be able to do. As the winds died down, a single thought ran through his mind.
I never got to tell Elsa….
The single inch between his lower eyelid and the ice was gone, crossed over by the cold prison that now completely encased him.
Jack Frost was now dead, never able to protect the children who still believed anymore, but of course, being immortal, he would not die, but live in ice forever. Unable to move, forever watching those around him. And once summer came, he knew that if he didn't die now, he would later on.
As he felt the ice harden, crush his chest so he was no longer able to breathe, snap his bones so he was no longer able to move, he wished for one thing.
That Elsa would always believe in him, no matter what.