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A Case of Frost
Chapter 7: Seeing
Sam felt like the pieces were finally coming together. After two days of confusion, of chasing around loose threads and dead ends, an understanding was finally washing over him. Jack Frost, the winter legend, the being that Jamie had spoken of with such desperation the day before. Bringing the snow and ice, pulling pranks on the brothers, but never killing anyone. It was why the murders hadn't fit with the stories. Because there was something else in Burgess, the monster the children talked about fearfully.
But Jack Frost, really? Sam still wasn't sure whether to actually believe it.
Then, out of nowhere, a memory came to him.
He had been six years old, and a hunt had taken the family of three to the mountains. Messy deaths of hikers, and supposed sightings of the Abominable Snowman. A load of bull, Dean had huffed. It was one of the older brother's first hunts, although carefully supervised by their father. As such, Sam had been left alone in their rented lodge with strict orders not to go outside. But his brother and dad had been gone for a few hours by that point, and there was a strange growling coming from the roof. Sam had been scared, and he couldn't just stay huddled in the corner of the small bedroom. So, feeling oddly brave, he held a trashcan lid in front of him like a shield and went out the door. He'd regretted it instantly, when the monstrous face of the creature his family was hunting appeared before him. Sam had screamed, and prepared to run, but there had been nowhere to run to. Just before the monster attacked, a strong gust of wind had pushed Sam off the porch and onto a trail of ice. Somehow, as he'd fallen, the trashcan lid had slipped beneath him. Before he knew it, he had been sitting in the lid and sliding on slippery ice down the mountain. The monster hadn't been far behind, but the longer Sam slid, the faster he had sped up. Eventually, despite the immediate threat, Sam had laughed and whooped and cheered as he slid down the mountain towards safety.
Sam had forgotten that day. It hadn't even crossed his mind in at least fifteen years. But the memory came to him now, and with it was a sense of familiarity. Suddenly, he knew exactly what had saved his life that day. It was the same thing that had just now protected him and his brother from the monster under his bed.
"Jack Frost saved us," he said in amazement. Sam no longer had any doubts about the mysterious ice-bringer's identity. He believed.
"You're welcome," said a voice that wasn't his brother's.
Sam looked up in shock. There was a long wooden stick, almost like an old-fashioned shepherd's crook, standing straight in the snow. It stood there as though held by magic, because there was nothing to tie it down. And balanced on top of the stick was a young man that looked nothing like Sam would ever have imagined. He wasn't like the illustration in Sam's research. He wasn't an old man, for one thing. Quite the opposite, in fact. The boy was probably still just a teenager, judging by his youthful face and lanky frame. He didn't have a beard like in the picture, either, although his messy hair was the right shade of silver. Everything about the boy was pale, from his face to his eyes to his bare feet that rested on the wooden stick. He was dressed in a way such as that, had he been walking down a street, he could have blended in with other kids his age. A blue hoodie and tight brown pants, and the frost that settled on them could easily have been sewn into the fabric.
But despite how different he was compared to Sam's expectations, Sam knew instantly who he was.
Delight was seeped into the boy's young features as he met Sam's eyes. It suited him, as though his face was made for happiness. Then the happiness mixed with shock.
"Wait, can you..?"
"Jack Frost," Sam breathed.
"What?" asked Dean beside him, "What are you looking at?"
"Jack Frost," he repeated, louder.
"You can see me?" asked the boy hesitantly, although the answer was obvious. But still he looked almost frightened, as though scared that Sam would say 'no'.
Sam nodded. "I can see you."
Jack Frost laughed in amazement, and he jumped an inch off his perch, punching the air. "You can see me! How can you - You can see me!"
Once he'd started moving, he didn't seem physically able to stop. He bounced on top of his stick a few times, and then leaped off it altogether, landing lightly on the ground. He caught the stick as it started falling, holding it over his shoulder. He moved towards Sam, gesturing with his free hand wildly.
"I've never been seen by an adult before! They don't have the faith that kids do. But you- you believe! You..!"
Sam laughed, the boy's happiness infecting him.
"Sam," said Dean, his eyes squinting into the darkness of the parking lot, "Is this Jack Frost guy here?"
"You can't see him?" asked Sam, "He's right in front of us."
His brother's eyes narrowed. "I don't like this, Sammy. How come you can see this thing and I can't?"
Sam looked to the boy for answers. Jack's spirits seemed only slightly dampened by Dean's lack of sight.
"He doesn't believe in me."
"He says that you can't see him because you don't believe," Sam explained.
"Don't believe..? Sam, either you've actually gone crazy or you're not talking to thin air. I'm pretty sure there's something there."
"He doesn't understand," said Jack, "He can believe that I'm here, but that doesn't mean he believes in me. In Jack Frost."
"He says that you need to believe in Jack Frost."
Dean gave Sam a look of annoyance. "I'm starting to think you're just messing with me now."
"Well, why not?" asked Sam, "He's not exactly the strangest thing we've encountered. What about that time with the cupid?"
"You've met Cupid?" asked Jack, "I can't stand that guy! Freeze a guy's bow once and he thinks that he's allowed to mess with you for a decade. The others still pick on me over the incident with Bunny…"
Sam smirked. "Yeah, I don't think anyone likes him."
"What did he say?" asked Dean, "Is he talking about me?"
"No, he… Look. This is the real deal here. Why can't you realise that?"
"Well excuse me for finding it a little hard to swallow," said his brother gruffly, "And I still haven't forgiven this thing for what it did to my beer, or my baby."
"The car thing?" asked Jack, swinging his stick nonchalantly, "Even after I saved your life, you're still angry about that?"
"He just saved our lives, Dean," Sam reminded his brother, "I think we kind of owe him on this one."
But Dean shook his head. His position on the matter wasn't budging.
Jack Frost crouched down in front of them, a thoughtful look on his face. "I can't make him believe," he said to Sam, "I think that only you can do that."
The moonlight shone brightly down on them. Sam looked at his brother, still seated at his side. And he knew exactly what to say. The one thing that would make Dean believe.
"Okay, you don't believe in Jack Frost, that's fine," he said, "But he's right here, I can see him. So believe in me."
It was all he could ask. It was all he could ever ask.
And it worked.
Dean blinked a few times, as though trying to clear his head. He opened his eyes to find Jack Frost inches from his face and yelled, instinctively pointing his gun.
"What the hell?!"
Jack laughed and jumped out of the way. He leaned casually against his stick. "Sorry," he said, sounding not at all apologetic, "I didn't mean to surprise you."
"Give a guy a warning next time!" Dean snapped. Then, "Jack Frost?"
He bowed theatrically. "The one and only."
"Wow. I have to say, you are not what I expected. How old are you - twelve?"
"I'm eighteen," Jack said indignantly, "I think. Give or take three hundred years."
"Three hundred years," he repeated, "So what does that make you? You don't seem much like a ghost to me."
"I'm not a ghost." He sounded almost insulted at the suggestion. "I'm Jack Frost. I'm a Guardian."
"A Guardian?" asked Sam, "You mean, like a protector?"
Jamie had said that Jack Frost was protecting them.
"Kind of," Jack replied, "But it's not as straightforward as you make it sound. A Guardian is a protector of children and childhood. So far there's been five chosen. I'm one of them."
When he spoke, there was an oddly amazed look in his eyes, as though he couldn't quite believe what he was saying.
"Sounds like you're a real special snowflake," said Dean. He was shivering, and it was only then that Sam realised that he was, too. It was very cold sitting on the icy pavement, with the cool metal of their car pressed against their backs.
Jack waved the comment aside. "You should get someplace warmer," he said, "before you freeze to death."
"Yeah, thanks for the advice," said Dean, "Where would you suggest we go? In case you didn't notice, that was our motel room you just froze over."
"It'll melt soon enough," said Jack unapologetically. There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Although the manager will probably be very unhappy with you two. In the meantime, there's a twenty-four hour diner across town. We can talk there."
Sam saw his brother's face light up at the notion of food. They clambered to their feet and into the warmth of the car. Jack Frost remained outside.
"You getting in?" asked Dean impatiently, nodding towards the back seat. Jack gave it a distasteful look.
"Too cramped for my liking. And slow. I'll meet you guys there."
And as the brothers watched in awe, the wind suddenly picked up. Then Jack jumped, and next second he was standing on top of one of the powerlines high in the air. He shot Sam a grin and then turned and jumped again and vanished from sight.
The brothers sat in silence for a second, absorbing everything that had happened that night.
"So," said Dean, clearing his throat roughly, "Jack Frost, huh?"
"Yeah," said Sam.
With nothing further to say, Dean started the car and started driving.
It took them a while to find the diner. They had to keep an eye out for patches of frost on the powerlines and lampposts, and then follow them like a trail of breadcrumbs. Unfortunately, the trail was far too sparse, and they drove around for close to half an hour before they reached their destination. When they arrived, Jack was perched on top of the large neon sign at the entrance of the almost-empty parking lot. He jumped down to meet the brothers, his white hair ruffling in the strong breeze that joined him.
"Show off," muttered Dean. But Sam knew him well enough to know that, in truth, he thought it was really cool.
"What took you guys so long?" Jack asked, his pale blue eyes gleaming. He pushed open the diner door for them, and frost crackled on the glass around his hand. "After you."
The diner had one other patron, and a young waitress. A cook could be heard clanging around in the kitchen. Otherwise, it was silent. The other customer looked to be a student or something, with a heavy book and a whole jug of coffee on the table in front of him. Sam recognised from his own previous experiences what it meant - there was an important test the next day.
The brothers and Jack took a booth in the corner of the diner, and the waitress quickly came over to take their orders. Sam and Dean ordered coffee and pie, and Jack, invisible and unheard, ordered nothing. He looked ridiculously small sitting in the booth, the way he was leaning forward with his arms crossed on the table making him seem hunched over in his slightly oversized hoodie. Yet he seemed perfectly at ease. His stick leaned upright next to him on the seat, and Sam noticed that when he released it the slight bluish tinge in the wood had vanished. He took note to ask about it later - maybe it channelled his power.
"Bit warmer?" Jack asked.
"A bit," said Dean, "Of course, it doesn't help that you froze me from the neck down."
"I'm sorry," he replied, sounding as though he truly meant it this time, "I didn't know how else to wake you."
Sam shot his brother a look across the table, to remind him that Jack freezing him had saved their lives. Dean pulled a face back. Jack's thin lips quirked up into a grin.
"Why're you so cheerful?" asked Dean.
"Why aren't you?"
"You mean, apart from being woken in the middle of the night by a monster attack? Well, in case you've forgotten, the monster that attacked us is still out there and, unless you can enlighten us, we have no idea what it is."
"He kind of has a point," said Sam. Jack Frost's appearance had ruled out most of their already shaky theories. They didn't have much left to go on.
Jack squinted as he thought. His cheerful air barely diminished. "And that's exactly why this is all working out so great."
"It is?" asked Sam, wondering if he'd missed something.
"It is?" Dean echoed.
"We work together, we'll find whatever's behind this and make it pay," Jack said, as though it were obvious.
"Wait, wait," said Dean, holding up his hands, "Who said anything about working together?"
Jack looked surprised. "What?"
"No offence," he said, "but Sam and I work alone. We've made the mistake of trusting the wrong…people…one time too many. Add in a snow ghost that we couldn't even see until an hour ago? Sorry, kid, but you're out of this one."
A hurt look crossed Jack's face, but he hid it well under a mild glare.
"Dean," muttered Sam. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy. He wanted to trust him, but Dean, on the other hand, was notoriously stubborn on these matters. Not entirely without reason, he reminded himself. "I don't think-"
"No, it's okay, Sam," said Jack quickly. He'd pulled his stick back against his side, and was holding onto it as though for support. "Your brother has a point. Why should you trust me? I mean, I'm just another monster to you guys, right?"
"He didn't mean it like-"
Jack interrupted him again. "Sure he didn't," he said casually, "Of course, it would make sense. To you guys. You know nothing about me, so why should you let me join you?" He shrugged, and then his face turned serious. "But the thing is, whatever has been killing people is hurting the kids in doing so. So if you don't want me helping you, how are you planning on stopping me?"
Dean stroked his coat where his gun was hidden. "Oh, I can think of a few ways, Snow Princess."
"Dean!" said Sam again, firmly.
Jack relaxed back into his seat, the seriousness gone as quickly as it had come. He looked at his hand, as though studying his fingernails, and swirled it in a smooth motion. A small snowflake appeared out of thin air. It weaved around his pale fingers a few times. He looked at Sam. "How do you deal with this guy all the time?" he asked, "Dean, cheer up. Have a bit of fun."
He flicked the snowflake so that it shot across the table like a bullet. Dean wasn't fast enough to move out of the way before it landed directly on the tip of his nose and dissolved into a small shower of blue sparks.
"Hey! What did you just…" He trailed off, an odd look entering his eyes. And then he smirked and pulled himself out of the booth.
"Uh, Dean?" asked Sam, "Where are you going?"
But his brother didn't answer him. He was already across the diner, and talking to the pretty blonde waitress. Sam recognised the body language all too well. He looked back at Jack, who was watching the exchange with a confused and curious expression.
"What did you just do to him?"
"His bad mood was getting me down. I gave him a touch of fun."
"You can do that?" asked Sam.
"It's my centre," Jack replied, still watching Dean. He didn't seem to notice that the words were effectively meaningless to Sam. "What's he doing?"
Sam looked over to his brother, who was saying something in the now blushing waitress's ear. As he watched, the waitress nodded, then looked around nervously and took his hand. The two disappeared through a door next to the kitchen.
Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'd say he's going to, uh, have a bit of fun," he said.
Jack frowned, and then blinked, and then his eyes widened. "Oh!" he exclaimed. Light pink flushed his cheeks, and against the otherwise white skin it stood out. He wrinkled his nose then, and looked faintly disturbed. "That's disgusting."
Sam laughed at his expression. "That's Dean. But you've been eighteen for around three hundred years, right? Are you seriously telling me that you've never..?"
Jack flushed even brighter. "No way! Gross!"
"At all?" Sam couldn't help but feel curious, and a tiny bit sorry for the kid. Three centuries without getting laid? That must have sucked.
"Who exactly would I have…uh, yeah…with?" Jack asked, stuttering over the question and covering it with a cough, "Sam, until a few years ago, I was completely invisible."
Sam was about to say something teasing, when the full impact of Jack's words sank in. "Completely?"
He shrugged, but Sam saw the boy's fingers clench tighter around his stick, sending more icy blue threads running up and down the wood. "I mean, there were the other Legends and Guardians hanging around. I saw them from time to time, but we never really…talked."
"Weren't you lonely?" asked Sam quietly.
"Of course," he replied, saying it in the way one would comment on the weather. A solemn look was threatening to creep onto his face. Instead of allowing it, though, he smiled brightly. "You met Jamie yesterday? He was my first believer. A real incredible kid."
His voice was filled with such fondness that Sam also smiled. He had spoken like a brother. "Is that why you're so determined to protect the kids here?" he asked.
Jack shook his head. "I'm a Guardian. I would be doing this even if the attacks were on the other side of the world. But since it's happening here in Burgess, I suppose I'm a bit more emotionally involved than I would be otherwise."
"Because of Jamie?"
"Partly," said Jack, "It's also Burgess itself that I'm attached to. I've always spent most of my time here. In the winter months, anyway. This is where I became a Guardian, and where I became Jack Frost long before that. And, I guess, this is where I grew up in my life before I was Jack Frost. Burgess is kind of my non-permanent home."
No wonder he wanted to join Sam and Dean in hunting down the monster. Sam realised with a jolt that Jack had probably watched at least one of the victims grow up. He couldn't imagine how it must have felt to learn of their deaths.
"Wait, before you were Jack Frost?" he asked, trying to make sense of the comment, "You mean you weren't created like this?"
"I thought so, too, until just before I became a Guardian. But I was human once, just like you."
Sam figured it out quickly. The town legend had begun three centuries earlier. What else could it be? He put the pieces together. "You're the ghost from the lake! The one that keeps it frozen!" he said excitedly.
Jack looked confused. "The what now?"
"We heard about a local legend," Sam explained, "A couple of kids died at the lake about three hundred years ago, and the lake hasn't thawed out since. You can't tell me that wasn't you? The Overland children?"
"I've heard that name before," said Jack. He seemed to be struggling to remember. "Was- was that my name? I'm a legend?"
"You didn't know?" asked Sam, surprised. With how long he'd been around, surely he would have heard people talk.
"But my sister," Jack continued, "She didn't fall in, she survived. I pushed her off the ice - I saved her." His voice was proud and his eyes were bright. He was looking at Sam in a way that was almost encouraging him to join in the excitement.
It was at that moment that Dean arrived back at the booth. His hair was a bit more messy than usual, and his shirt was inside out. He smirked at Jack and Sam. "That was fun!" he said.
"I don't want to hear it," said Jack, but he was grinning and only blushing very faintly, "Are you feeling better now?"
Dean nodded. "What did I miss?"
"Nothing important," he replied, "Now that you're a little less cranky, I think we have a monster to catch."
A/N: Hope this helps you all recover from the cliffhanger last chapter!
Sorry if it seems like not much happens here. As of the next chapter, things should really start moving.
A couple of you reviewed previously about the librarian's comment in chapter five about both of the children dying. Although I loved your theories about that, I've answered it in a much more boring way in this chapter. Over the course of three hundred years, the stories would warp at least a little.
Once again, I am so, so grateful for all the reviews, favourites, and follows. Keep up the amazingness, guys!
Thanks for reading!