Moar apologies for moar delay. Moar school swampage happened.

I can't believe I'm already 1/4 of the way through my senior year (midterm grades are due 10/21). I thought I had all this time left to figure my life out, you see.

Anyhoo.

Thank you all so much for following, faving, reviewing, and generally lurking. You make my day. ^_^

Violet woke early the next morning, having slept well. Bleary-eyed, she gazed around her dimly-lit room. Her lamp hadn't been turned on...!

Oh.

...Maybe that meant Violet wasn't scared of the dark anymore?

After Jack's smooth, low voice had lulled her to sleep, Violet had dreamed vividly of him – of flying over the oceans by his side. It was effortless to fly with him – she even wanted to try it then and there to see if that was another power she had. But all the times she'd attempted it in the past and the memory of a broken arm stopped her. Jack could fly. She couldn't.

There were no sounds indicating anyone else was awake. Violet wondered what time it was. Stretching, she tumbled out of bed and looked out her window. The snow still piled high. All for her. She grinned smugly.

When she walked past her dresser, the drawing pad on top caught her eye – someone else had drawn in it!

The picture was in blue marker: a snowflake inside a hasty circle. Wobbly lines crossed over the snowflake inside the circle – Violet realized it was one of her force fields. Jack Frost must have left this picture for her! And then she spotted the words printed in clear block letters: "I'll come back." When? Tonight? Wide awake, Violet carefully tore the drawing from the pad and placed it on her bed. With a little effort she pulled out the trundle and removed a big shoebox that she kept her special treasures in. The drawing from Jack Frost went right in, no question. Before replacing the lid she studied it a little longer. She wished she could have stayed awake to say goodbye to him. There was no way to know how long he had actually stayed... The Nancy Drew book still sat on her nightstand, but Jack hadn't marked where he stopped. Whenever he had left, though, he had still taken a moment to leave this for her, his own way of saying goodbye for now. And that made her feel really jittery-happy. Like she was special, just as he told her.

Violet trailed her fingers across the picture wistfully, then placed the lid on the shoebox and put it all away again. She left her room and wandered through the still house. It was sort of spooky to be the only one awake, she realized, but she knew there was nothing to fear. Mom or Daddy would be up soon. She turned on the TV for company, though – it was just too quiet. The news covered the snow again. Violet already knew school was canceled, so she wasn't interested. Eventually she found a cartoon she liked, and she watched it until Daddy came yawning into the living room.

"What are you doing up, Vi?" he asked, peering fuzzily at what she was watching. Violet shrugged. "Have you had breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry," Violet mumbled.

"Would you like me to make some eggs for you? You can reheat them when you get hungry."

"Okay, Daddy." Daddy shuffled into the kitchen and soon Violet could hear the sounds of eggs cooking. The aroma hit her nose and she almost felt hungry, but eating still did not appeal to her this early in the morning.

But she grew bored of the next cartoon that came on, and by then her tummy started rumbling, so she followed her nose to the still-warm plate of eggs sitting at her spot at the table. Daddy looked up from his newspaper at her, smiled in acknowledgment, took a sip of coffee, and resumed reading. Violet picked up her fork and lifted the first bite to her mouth. Daddy always made good eggs. Her breakfasting passed by in silence, and then Daddy left for work. And then the house was quiet again.

Snow drifted down outside in a calming way. Violet watched it from the couch for a long time. She wondered if Tony and the other kids would walk by her house again. Maybe today she could be brave enough to join them. Somehow staying home all day again seemed very boring even though there was plenty of snow to entertain herself with. She had already made a snowman yesterday, and snow angels. She wanted to try to make an igloo, or maybe even try having a snowball fight. There was a park nearby; maybe Mom could take her there today?

When would Jack come back? What if she was away when he returned? Could he still find her by flying?

While she waited for something to happen, Violet went back into her room and tried to read the Nancy Drew book. She now heard the narration in Jack's voice, not Mom's. She thought she liked it better. But the reading went rather slow – lots of big words that she had to sound out. But she made it through a chapter by herself. Her brain felt tired after that, but she couldn't wait to tell Mom! And Jack! She should tell Jack, too, when he arrived.

Mom was up, drinking coffee and watching the news, just like yesterday, when Violet came out of her room again. But this time, Jack stood in the center of the room, and he swiveled on the spot at the sound of her door. His face brightened at the sight of her and she jumped. "Jack! What are you doing here?"

Helen also started, and turned to see her daughter looking toward the coffee table. Her imaginary friend stayed the night on the couch, perhaps?

Shrugging, Jack tapped his staff emphatically on the carpet. "I said I'd come back, didn't I?"

"I thought you were going to be gone until night again." Violet came closer, glad to see him regardless – that much could be seen from the way her eyes sparkled, alone. Helen briefly reconsidered her steadfast hope that Violet would outgrow her imaginary friends – none of them had ever made her this happy and bright.

"I can visit during the day if I want to. It's more fun, anyway. Hey, do you have ice skates? We should go to the lake today," he suggested, nodding his head toward Mom.

Also nodding, Violet turned fully to face her mother. "Can we, Mom? Can me and Jack go ice skating?"

"Jack and I, Vi. I don't know if the ice will be thick enough."

"It is," Jack cut in, proudly placing his hands on his hips, "I froze the lake over myself."

"Jack says it is, Mom," Violet relayed.

Helen's eyes crinkled in knowing amusement and she hid her smile behind a sip of coffee. Of course Jack would say that. At any rate, the lake was within walking distance, so it would be easy enough to come back home if it turned out "Jack" was wrong. "Yes, of course, dear. I'll take you in a few hours if you're ready."

"When will that be?" Violet asked, already going toward her room to pick out clothes – her skates were still in a yet-to-be-unpacked box of seasonal wear; Mom would have to find them for her.

Mom glanced to the clock, pursing her lips. "How about after lunchtime? That will be around 12:30. Okay?"

That felt like too long to wait, but Violet agreed to it. Now that Jack was here, she knew she wouldn't be too bored. He followed her into her room and watched her rummage through her dresser.

"I found your picture," Violet told him as she pulled out a dark green turtleneck.

"What did you think? I know I'm not very good at drawing..."

"I liked it. It looked really cool. Hey, do you think we can do that?"

"Do what?" Jack asked in confusion, now stepping aside so Violet could search for a pair of jeans. She straightened and held her hands up to suggest her idea.

"Could I hold one of your snowflakes in my force field? Like the picture?"

"Do you want to try it now?" He was already calling frost to his fingertips. The little girl vigorously nodded, hopping in anticipation, and ooh-ing when a perfect, large snowflake materialized over Jack's palm, just like when they'd first met yesterday. The look of concentration came over her face again as a globe of blue energy popped around the snowflake. Jack withdrew his hand and it all remained suspended in the air. Face still scrunched, Violet managed to squint one eye open to see what she had done. She gasped in amazement, and the field snapped apart like a popped bubble, the flake drifting to the floor.

"Oops! Sorry," she mumbled, face flushing before she hid it in her dark hair. Jack chuckled indulgently and pushed a black strand behind her ear.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. That was cool, wasn't it?" he asked, and Violet's cheer came back. "Want to try again?"

She did. A few trials later she managed to look at her feat with both eyes wide open, and Jack applauded her after she broke the force field. "I wish I could show Mom," she mentioned. Doing his level best not to be discouraging, Jack shrugged one shoulder.

"Maybe someday, with your help." Adults were not his area, but it was better than telling her it was useless to ever expect an adult could see him, anyway. Besides, Jack Frost brought everything that adults grew up to hate about winter – snow and ice on the roads, frozen water pipes, ruined rose gardens, reckless children and worries about thin ice and hypothermia. Grownups and parents dreaded winter's threats of snowdrifts and icicles; only kids saw the wonderland.

Jack didn't need Mom to see him. Just Violet. And then, if they were both lucky, her friends. "I don't think she'd be able to see the snowflake."

"Am I really the only person who can see you?" Violet asked, eyes growing big and sad for him – he could barely stand it.

"You're the only one I've met so far," he admitted; he always held onto the possibility that there were more people who believed in him than he thought (he thought: not more than one) and he simply had not encountered any of them. But it was a foolish hope, by now. Other spirits saw him, but humans – children – never did.

"Why?" Her brow tensed with the desire to understand. Jack shifted. Explaining how belief worked couldn't be the best idea for a child so young. But he couldn't think of even a white lie that wouldn't leave him feeling like a traitor to her faith in him.

With a weary shrug, Jack knelt down to her level, locking twin pairs of blue eyes – one young and wondering, the other ancient and yet ageless; both so full of youth and life. "Violet Parr," he began, tasting the words as he spoke them, "I am a spirit – like, a ghost. You know that, right?" After a bit of wide-eyed hesitation, she nodded confirmingly. "Okay. Uhm, how do I explain this..." he thrust a hand through his hair, and particles of frost shuffled out and fell to the carpet where they melted. "When someone doesn't believe in me, doesn't believe that I exist..." he swallowed hard at the sudden lump in his throat but he resisted the urge to shut his eyes away from her, "They can't see me. Violet, you are the only person who can see me because you are the only person who believes in me."

An adult would have let the silence hang.

"What happens if I don't believe in you?"

The question clenched achingly onto his heart like a vise and he had to break away, curl over himself a moment to recover.

"What's the matter?!"

"If you stop believing in me," pleaseneverneverstop Jack let out a shaky breath, hand gripping the front of his sweater over his heart so hard the tendons stood out, "then you won't see me anymore. I'll be invisible to you." And the way his voice broke on the last words killed him inside. Violet came closer to put a steady hand on his arm.

"Jack, I will always believe in you. I promise."

That did it.

Before he could tamp any of the emotion down Jack felt his face crumple and he buried it in his hands before she could see, bowing forward onto his knees, ducking his head to the floor. The wetness of tears lasted between his palms and his cheeks; they came too quickly for any to freeze. His shoulders hitched on a suppressed sob and Violet was rubbing her little hand over his back like her mother did for her. And she was apologizing for making him sad and he shook his head because no, that's not it at all. "I'm really happy," he insisted, the carpet muffling his voice, "I'm so happy to hear that. You really are very special," he said, hysterical giggles falling loose from his mouth. She stayed next to him, leaning against his shoulder when he came up for air and he didn't even think about the arm he threw around her until after he'd done it. She pressed her head into his collar and he realized they could hug each other, but he stayed put with just the one arm. Her weight against him was so solid and real and he was real too, for the moment, to her; and Moon, it felt amazing. It felt fantastic. He felt incredible.

She hadn't abandoned him. She refused to – promised, even. And she would take that promise very seriously, he knew.

Jack was no longer alone in this world.

And... oh, if only this was how he could make others feel with his snowballs!

"Thank you, Violet," he whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze, "Thank you so much..."

Violet lifted her head and craned her gaze up to him, watching. A few tears still glistened unfallen at his eyes, but his content smile just radiated happiness. "For what?" she asked quietly. He turned his eyes to her, blinked the tears down his cheeks where they crystallized into beads of ice.

"For being you. For believing in me."

For saving me.