(Updates shall be on the weekends from now on cos it's easier for me to take a few minutes to do that during such times.)

One of the funner things about rereading these chapters again is noticing all the references my subconscious snuck in to all my other fandoms. Some of them are pretty obvious if you know them, others I think are rather blink-and-you-miss-it. Not that I'm setting you on a scavenger hunt, but I love it when other people get my art. :) (Don't we all?)

Thank you to my new followers and favors and lurkers, and please enjoy!

"Are you Jack Frost?"

"Will I get to see you again?"

–

He couldn't believe it. He couldn't. Believe it.

He'd been seen! He'd been named! 250 years and a little girl in Burgess, Pennsylvania, that he'd never seen before, knew his name and believed in him!

Jack nearly fell out of the air as it all hit him again. The rush, the sheer unadulterated exhilaration. He was real, he existed, Violet Parr gave him form!

He swept his staff out in front of him and snow tumbled onto sleeping Westminster below. The Moon shone brightly on the top of the cloud cover, illuminating the alien landscape. Chuckling to himself, Jack called the Wind to stir the nearest clouds up into mountains, hills and valleys and the occasional curlicue, and he slalomed through them. He'd left the continental United States just hours ago. He had a while yet before he would be back to visit little Violet Parr again like he promised he would. He could have bounced in his anticipation were he on solid ground. He couldn't help it!

"How did that even happen?" he asked the Moon, not really expecting an answer. "250 years of nothing working and all of a sudden..." he trailed off, arcing up into a halt to face the Moon, shining impassively down on him. His eyes narrowed skeptically. "I don't believe you had anything to do with it, though," he continued, maybe a little bitter about the Man in the Moon's lack of involvement in his life. "When have you ever helped me? All you've ever done for me is tell me my name..." And he became pensive again, bordering on melancholy. "How long will her belief last?" he dared to utter, hugging his staff a little without realizing it. He hated that thought. He didn't want to see that day. But he had a dreadful feeling it would come. Children all over the world stopped believing in the Tooth Fairy when they stopped losing baby teeth; Santa when they caught Mom and Dad setting presents under the tree; the Easter Bunny when they outgrew the excitement of egg hunts. When reality crushed dreams, they stopped believing in the Sandman.

What did Jack Frost ever have? Just a throwaway line in a Christmas song – overshadowed again by Santa Clause because he was more liked than his snowballs and fun times. Snow melted, but Christmas presents lasted. Any thoughts of Jack Frost lasted as long as the holiday specials and ice on the windows. There was no such thing as a mall Jack Frost.

Violet wouldn't have any visual reminders of his existence except himself, and he was only around in the winter. How long would she go on remembering that she saw him when no one else believed?

Anxiety shot through him and he left the snowing clouds behind, turning back westward. He couldn't handle it; he dreaded being forgotten, unbelieved in, if he wasn't by Violet's side every moment to keep on her mind.

A quiet, rational part of his mind spoke up that he was being ridiculous – when children Violet's age believed something was real, they believed it with all their might. She wouldn't just turn around and deny his existence.

And besides, children only thought of Santa and the Easter Bunny at particular times of the year, too, and that never stopped their belief.

But Jack knew belief in the intangible was a brittle thing. What could he do to keep anyone from convincing Violet he didn't actually exist? That he was "just an expression"? Very little, he realized, and this slowed his pace momentarily. But then he braced his resolve and continued on at speed. Whatever ended up happening, he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to preserve Violet's belief in him for as long as possible.

She'd looked at him. She'd seen him. She'd said his name. She'd touched him. Chills shot up and down his spine, raced through his limbs at the recollection of it all. The echoes of joy charging him up and setting his hair on end. That feeling... he refused to let it go, give it up. He was not going to separate himself from that, at all costs. He was not losing this. Never. Not for one second.

Burgess appeared below and he dove. It was still only late afternoon; it still snowed. Jack called for even more to dump down. He could create snow days for a week if he wanted to; he thought he just might. He did not want to miss any possible moment, not one opportunity.

Jack drifted by Violet's house just to check in, peeking in the windows. She was watching TV, curled up with what looked like a mug of hot chocolate – hard to tell over her shoulder. A little blonde boy also sat on the couch, on the opposite end. So Violet had a little brother. Jack wondered if she had told the little boy about him.

Why wasn't she outside? He'd seen other kids playing together in front yards, in the park. Why didn't Violet join them?

Her mother appeared and he saw her lips move. Violet shook her head, looked down. Jack settled out of the air onto the porch and grew more attentive. Violet was shy, he realized with a start, recalling her body language at their first meeting, how she'd initially retreated from his offered hand. And he hadn't seen her in Burgess before today...

She was new in town. That had to be it. She didn't have any friends here yet, and she wasn't brave enough to go out and try even when she had the perfect chance.

The unhappy thought occurred to him that her ability to turn invisible might actually be more than just her superpower, but also her strongest defense, to the point it even enabled her shyness. No one could make her interact with other people if they couldn't find her, right?

Jack called a snowball into his hand, bounced it a few times. He knew just the thing he could do to help her open up a little, but she needed to be in with a group of other kids to make it work...

The laughter and chatter of young voices, muffled by the snow, caught his attention and he zoomed around to the front of the house. These kids, he knew. Ten-year-old Brad Rydinger and his brother Tony, and Pam Sanders, the latter two Violet's age. He knew exactly what to do. He threw the snowball at the living room window, right where Violet could see it, and bounded up to watch from the roof.

The noise startled the kids, too. They were all still watching the window when Violet's face appeared between the blinds.

"Isn't that the new family that moved in?" Brad murmured. Pam shrugged. Tony waved. Violet eventually chanced a timid wave back. Tony gestured for her to come out. Taken aback, Violet hesitated, then vanished from sight only to reappear at the opened door. "Want to play?" Tony called to her. Jack squatted on the eave above the door to hear better. She didn't answer for a long time. "I'm Tony! What's your name?"

"Who's at the door, sweetie?" Mom's voice came from inside the house. Brad approached the porch to politely introduce himself and the others.

"Who threw the snowball?" Violet asked, looking rather cross. Jack's spirits fell – this wasn't the way things were supposed to go! And he couldn't just pitch another snowball when everyone was looking at each other...

All the kids denied it. Violet narrowed her eyes, brows angling down severely. "Liars," she said.

"Vi," Mom chided, touching her hair. Violet jerked away, returning to the couch. Jack shifted onto his knees and leaned forward, hanging down so he could look in through the doorway without her seeing him. The kids at the door looked nervous. They weren't lying!

"We just wanted to play," Pam offered. Mom's eyes softened sympathetically.

"Did you hear that, Violet? Why don't you go out and play, and make some new friends?"

"Yeah, let's be friends!" Tony supplemented, even poking his head in under Mom's arm to grin winningly at Violet. For a brief moment Violet looked interested, but her expression quickly grew hard again.

"I already have a new friend, Mom. I don't want any more."

"Violet," Mom started to say, but then her daughter disappeared into her room. Biting her lip, she turned back to the youngsters still on her doorstep. "I'm sorry, kids. My daughter is very shy and she's still upset about moving. Will any of you see her at school?"

"I think she's going to be in our class," Pam said, looking at Tony, who nodded.

"Please try to make friends with her. She's a nice girl," Helen assured them.

"Okay, we will," the kids promised, and they turned and left.

Sighing, Jack pushed himself back up and slipped his feet over the edge of the roof, swinging them moodily as he bowed his head in resignation. That hadn't worked at all like he'd wanted. Maybe he shouldn't be so surprised, though. Violet wasn't like other kids, after all. She was a Super. She felt different as a baseline without also being an outsider. She'd been through a lot already and adjusting was going to be hard for her.

"I already have a new friend."

Did that mean him?

His heart swelled at the thought, though he still wished she could have at least given it a try with the other kids. They were always going to be real. Himself... well, that he couldn't guarantee.

Sighing again in defeat, Jack slid off the roof into the Wind, and he let it carry him up and away. He would be back again in a few hours. Right now, he just needed time to think.

–

"That wasn't very nice, young lady," Mom said when she entered Violet's room. Unsympathetic, Violet slouched deeper under her blanket, scowling. "You haven't played with anyone since we got here, and it's very bad manners to accuse someone of lying when you're also lying."

"But I did already make a friend this morning, Mom!" Violet protested, voice keening into a whine.

"Really?" Mom said, eyebrow raised and hands on her hips; Helen had seen no one come up the front yard the whole time her daughter was outside. "What's their name?"

"Jack Frost," Violet said, eyes earnest.

Sighing, Mom dropped her hands to her sides. "Jack Frost?" she repeated. Violet nodded.

"He's got white hair and he has this huge funny-looking stick, and he doesn't wear shoes," she said rapid-fire fast, "And his skin is really cold."

"Where did you see him? Did he tell you his name was Jack Frost?"

"He was in the back yard-"

"The back yard?" Mom repeated, eyes really wide. Helen hadn't been keeping as diligent an eye on the back yard, figuring it was safer since Violet wouldn't have been visible from the street anyway. Her eyebrows angled down toward her nose and Violet quieted. Mom was upset; maybe she wasn't happy that Violet had made a new friend after all, since she didn't get to meet him first. "Did... Violet, did he try to make you go anywhere with him?"

The conversation had become very serious, and Violet wasn't sure why. "No, Mom. We just talked. And he can fly, and he can make ice like Lucius, and-"

"He's a Super?"

"Well," Violet shifted, "I'm not sure. But he said I was the only one who could see him."

The tension cracked off of Helen's shoulders and overwhelming relief fell into its place. She could have collapsed from it, but she settled for a grateful exhale. Imaginary friend. Not a stranger nosing in her back yard. Her hand rested over her heart; it could only pound so fast when her children were involved. She breathed in and out again and Violet noticed that she did not look upset anymore. In fact, now she looked really happy!

"What else did Jack tell you?"

"Mmm..." Violet stalled while she remembered, sitting up straighter now that she knew she wasn't in trouble anymore, "He said he did make all the snow for me. And he said I was very special." She smiled. "Just like you always tell me."

Wherever this persona of Jack Frost had come from, Helen decided she liked Violet's newest imaginary friend. "Well, he sounds like a very nice boy," she put in. Violet nodded with enthusiasm.

"He had to go make snow days in other places, but he'll be back tonight," she supplied. Helen smiled and chuckled, appreciative of her daughter's ingenuity.

"Should we save some supper for him, do you think?" She asked, playing along.

"Maybe. Just in case." And Violet looked to be thinking so seriously about whether Jack Frost would be hungry when he came back to Burgess that Helen had to leave just so she could laugh at the entire situation.

But then she quieted and stepped back from the situation. Okay; an imaginary friend was better than nothing. Helen believed that, for a six-year-old. But she still hoped Tony and Pam would be able to get through to Violet on her first day of school. The last thing she wanted to come out of this was her daughter to isolate herself from real people just because those she created from her imagination were more interesting. It had already started, in fact; she had just seen that minutes ago.

Meanwhile Violet wondered what might be Jack Frost's favorite food. She entertained the idea of sneaking her vegetables out to him, but that didn't sound very nice. Jack Frost was her friend. You gave things like cookies and candy to your friends. So maybe she would have to eat the string beans at the table after all. Violet pouted in protest of this unpleasant thought, but she knew by now that it would do her no favors to complain to Mom about it.

The snow still fell down outside and Violet gazed out her window at it. Her first thoughts were actually of those kids who came to her front door. Really, they all had looked like they might be friendly to her. But she had been too excited about meeting Jack Frost – a friend with superpowers was so much better! – to want to pay them any attention. And, she was also scared. The snowball against the window had frightened her, the loud bam! jarring her and nearly making her spill her hot chocolate. That wasn't nice of them.

Her shyness was a big part of it, too. Making friends was hard. She really was too scared to try. Sometimes she wished she could vanish, or use her force fields to keep other kids from talking to her. Especially when they liked to come to her in groups. Maybe if just Tony had come to the door she would have tried. But three, including a big kid, was just too much.

So now, especially after Mom had scolded her for it, she felt a little bad about it. But she didn't know how to fix things at the moment.

Perhaps if she saw them again, it would not be so bad.

In the meantime... she did not want to dwell on it. She would play outside in the snow again. She had tried to make a snowman earlier, but the snow would not hold together. So she had settled for a couple of snow angels. Maybe the snow would be better for snowmen, now?

Violet bundled herself up again and went into her back yard. And every so often she looked up for any signs of Jack Frost. He had said he wouldn't be back until nighttime, but she was so eager to see him again she hoped he would turn up very early. One couldn't be sure, right?

–

Jack thickened the ice cover on the lake. With all the cold and snow, it only seemed fair that the kids be able to go ice skating. So far, none of them had tried, but oh, give it time. Someone always came out with skates sooner or later, in this town. Finishing his task, Jack alit toes first on the center of the frozen lake, precisely where he had first emerged 250 years ago. It always felt unreal to come back to this spot, stand here year after year. 250 years saw a lot of change to the town of Burgess, but this lake had not been touched at all. Not expanded, or filled in, or diverted. In all its incarnations, Burgess was built around the lake. Jack couldn't help thinking that had to be significant, if only because he had been born from the lake. But he also knew it was preposterous to think the lake had been preserved for that same reason.

It certainly wasn't because of the Man in the Moon.

Whatever the case, standing here in the center of the lake on a pane of ice, encased by the minty smell of evergreens, grounded him. It seemed to always bring him back to something important. He could remember the through-lines of his life if he stood here, better than he could in other places.

He didn't believe his foiled plan to get Violet to play was the reason he needed to stand there at that moment, but maybe it had a lot to do with it anyway. It usually worked, when he did that. Throw a snowball. Getting all sorts of kids to have fun together was simply one of those things that he did. To have it backfire rattled him.

Okay; he screwed up, there. But he would still go back to Violet that night. His failure only made him want to try harder, for her. He felt like she needed him.

(Speak nothing of the turnabout: he needed her.)