In the early hours of the next morning, Jack awoke, blinking to remove the sleep from his eyes. With a glance around, he was able to piece the information of why he was there together. It felt nice to wake up somewhere new, somewhere where he didn't have to deal with his parents trying to take care of him.

He stood, stretching and letting out a groan as his body greeted him with stiffness. After ruffling his platinum hair, he removed the t-shirt she had given him and folded it neatly on the couch.

Suddenly, without warning he heard the lock on the door jiggle and then burst open. An uppity redhead came through the door, holding two coffees and a bag of what he assumed was some sort of breakfast. She stood before him, her eyebrows raised, and her blue eyes wide. She stood in workout gear, her red hair braided into two pigtails that lay over each shoulder.

"Um..." She began.

He furrowed his brow, before recognizing her from the picture on the wall. "Ah, i'm sorry. I'm Jack." He started forward, reaching out a hand.

She took a step back. "Aha. Random man, half naked in my sister's living room. What are you doing here? Did you break in? She doesn't have nice things to steal you know!" She spoke quickly, holding her bag of food out like a weapon.

He let out a small laugh, the first in a long time. "No, i'm not... breaking in. Why would I break in without a shirt on?" Jack rolled his eyes, reaching for the shirt again to put it back on.

"Then what are you doing here?!"

"I met your sister yesterday and -"

"Oh my god! Are you her boyfriend?!" She exclaimed, her expression going from wary to excited.

"What? No I'm -"

"Ooh. You are cute! A little too-"

"ANNA!" Both heads turned to the opened bedroom door where Elsa stood in a zipped up blue track jacket and black yoga pants. Her hair was once again braided over her shoulder, and she held another pair of clothes in her hands.

"Jack, here. You look like his size, your clothes were still wet so I'm washing them." Elsa said, holding out a pair of jeans and another shirt.

"Thank you. Nice to meet you Anna." Said Jack, and with a small smile he hobbled into the bathroom nearest him to change.

"Elsa" Anna whispered, "Why is there a very good-looking man in your house?"

"Why are you whispering Anna?" Elsa giggled, grabbing one of the coffees and sitting at the table in the kitchen.

"Did you sleep with him?" Anna exclaimed, placing her coffee in front of her, and resting her chin in both hands.

Elsa rolled her eyes and let out a short laugh. "No, Anna. I met him yesterday, he was out in the rain last night... I invited him in. He's a nice guy... he was a soldier too." She let her voice trail off, looking to her hands.

"Alright, I'm going to head home. I'll return these to you as soon as I can Elsa, and thank you again." Jack stepped into the kitchen, wooden cane in hand.

"Bye Jack..." Elsa said with a caring smile.

He nodded his head to both ladies and turned to leave, knowing his mother was going to give him a hell of a talk when he got home.

As he suspected, his mother was home waiting tapping her foot against the floor as he walked inside. However, the lecture he had gotten from her was almost unnoticed compared to the thoughts running through his head. It wasn't until she began to cry that he finally paid attention.

With a look of pain in her eyes she said, "Jack, I don't know what to do with you anymore! You stopped seeing the physical therapists, you wont see your psychiatrist... you're like a zombie!"

It was true. He felt like a zombie, everyday.

His mom sat at the kitchen table, her finger tips trailing on the wooden patterns. He sat with her and grabbed her hand, the first sign of affection he had shown his mom in a long time.

"Please," She whispered, "I need you to get better. Please Jack. I need my son back."

Jack hated going to the psychiatrist. The room the patients sat in was always a reminder of how much money they would be paying this man at the end of their treatment. Dark paint on the walls and ornate cherry wood furniture decorated the room. Always the random plant that sat on a side table, a sign that life was still going on. Then of course, across from the ornate chair in which the psychiatrist sat was a large sofa where Jack would prop up his leg and sit.

"What do you remember?" Said Dr. North, his Russian accent probing. He was a large man, his face mostly covered with a grey beard and rosy cheeks. He was someone Jack assumed would probably be jolly if he hadn't had to deal with depressed patients all of the time.

What didn't he remember? Aside from getting shot, everything was crystal clear. The bomb, the shouting, the pain, the blood...Jamie's face.

"Your family is worried about you, and frankly so am I." The man sounded worried, but Jack knew he couldn't really be. What did he care?

His eyes shot open and he let out a harsh laugh. "You don't fool me Doc. You sit here and you act like you know what it's like. You act like you've been there, like you've seen people get ripped apart. How should I act? Happy? Well I'm not. You're not going to fix me, so stop trying!" He stood, grabbing his cane and hobbling to the door. Dr. North didn't respond, but as he left he gave him a quick glance back to see him looking defeated.

It was only because of his mother that he went to the rehabilitation center to be evaluated. Though he didn't care much about it, his mother was the one person who could get through to him. He wanted her to be proud of him again, not depressed all of the time.

He sat in the waiting room, watching patients come and go. Some didn't look as though they needed rehab at all, while others sat in wheelchairs, their legs brittle from disuse. He felt uncomfortable sitting in this room with these people who needed help. He remembered being able to push himself, run for miles, and not feel winded.

"Frost? Jack Frost?" He heard a woman's voice call his name, and with some effort he stood, his cane helping him to the door.

The nurse attempted to make small conversation with him, mainly about his name in reference to the 'winter spirit'. He just ignored her, until she left him at this therapists area. He let a small smile flit onto his face when he saw who his therapist was, the blonde with the fishtail braid.

"Elsa..." He said, his smile turning more into a grin. It felt foreign to him. "I would have brought the clothes if I knew you were going to be the one torturing me."

Elsa let out a small laugh, cocking her hip and placing her hand on it. "I just can't get rid of you can I soldier?"

"Guess not...so, you're my psychical therapist?"

She patted the table in front of her. "Yes I am. Now sit."

As he sat , she leaned down, grabbing his leg and feeling the muscle, her brow furrowed in concentration. She lifted it, bending it at the knee and heard the sharp intake of air from him. She let her eyes move to his face and frowned.

"I'm sorry. I have to do this.." She said. "When's the last time you've had rehabilitation on this?"

He frowned and looked away feeling ashamed at himself. "I stopped once I was released from the hospital. So, about a year and three months ago." He knew the reprimand was coming, and he waited for it. To his surprise and delight however, she simply smiled.

"Alright, let's go for a walk."

The summer breeze pushed past Jack and Elsa, giving them a reprieve from the heat. They had been walking for almost forty five minutes when they decided they should turn back and head back to the the rehabilitation center. There had been little conversation, as it had mostly been Elsa observing how he walked, and then speaking into a small recorder. It wasn't until the end that Jack spoke up, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"Don't think I'm trying to ask you out or anything, but can I maybe treat you to dinner sometime?" He said, and awaited her reaction. She saw that she stopped in her tracks for just a moment, before she began to walk again and took a deep breath.

"Hm. I'm not much for going out to eat..." She said quietly, looking lost in thought. "Even better, you could come over and cook for me? Maybe even invite Anna..." She looked at him now from the corner of her eyes and bit her bottom lip. She didn't want to admit that she didn't want to be seen out with another man for dinner in public. It was a smaller town after all.

"Can't say i'm much of a good cook, but I can try." He replied, not questioning her new plan.

"Tomorrow night fine?" She turned to face him, dropping her recorder to her side and smiling at him.

He stared at her, looking over her features and smiled once again for the third time that day. "It sounds great."