Alaia Skyhawk: Well here's a chapter I know you've all been waiting for :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians, the Guardians of Childhood, or any related characters etc. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes.

~(-)~

Chapter 44: Blizzard

The Festival of First Snow, 1967... Jack whipped down out of the sky, the winds whistling at his passage towards his statue in Jackswood Park. It was a year like any other, with the past couple of decades being rather quiet compared to the years where the two World Wars had taken place. That much had been a relief, for all of the Immortals. That wasn't to say there'd been no wars since, because there had, but they'd been more localised affairs that only a fraction of immortals had had to deal with.

Jack hadn't been one of them, although part of him wished that he had... Because if he had, then it would have been because he was at last openly a Guardian... and not still hiding away and keeping that fact a secret.

He angled down in his final approach to the park, a smile lighting his expression at the sheer number of people gathered there and in the nearby streets, there to take part in the festival. There was even a small crowd of 'tourists', camped near his statue with cameras pointed at it. In recent years, seekers of the supernatural had begun trying to 'investigate' the 'phenomena that was the statue mysteriously icing over' during the festival every year.

Jack grinned to himself as he landed on the paving around his statue, wickedly eyeing the geeks with their cameras, before he then glanced past the queue of people leaving berry sprigs at the statue, and over at a small group of children who had spotted his arrival.

He flew over to them, conjuring a pile of snowballs, before landing on the plinth of his statue. He then smirked, and pointed at the geeks... The children needed no further prompting than that.

A hail of snowballs struck the geeks from behind, causing them to erupt into shouts of surprise and yells of protest. Meanwhile, during the distraction, Jack frosted over the plinth, and the cloak and staff of his statue. The gasps of wonder rising from the people in the queue who saw it, before several called out that Jack Frost had returned.

At Jack's signal, to go to the place in the part where he'd sit to tell stories, the children scampered away leaving the geeks to mutter to each other. And that was when they realised that they'd missed the statue icing over!

Jack flew up into the air, laughing at his victory, and set off a light shower of fine snow with the intent to make it heavier after nightfall. So that there would be an inch or two on the ground by morning. He'd gotten much better at managing snowstorms lately, with his strategy of seeding extra snowfalls here and there. Mother Nature hadn't had to request a specific blizzard from him for seven years which, considering the typical average time between weather requests for each of the Spirits of the Seasons was one-to-two years, was a very good record.

But that was something far from Jack's mind, as he landed on the recently replaced log near the middle of the park. There were already dozens of children waiting there, to hear the first story of the year, and he wasn't about to disappoint them... He'd tried to break into North's Workshop two days previous, and so had the first 'Sneak past Phil the Yeti, and get into Santa's Workshop' story of the year.

The children were smiling and giggling by the end of it, as he described being shoved into a sack and then dumped out of a window. He then told the children to go enjoy the rest of the festival, with the promise he would set the park up for a big snowball fight tomorrow. He then took to the sky again, flitting out of sight before descending again to reach his pond.

Jack landed in a tree, sitting on a particular branch where he had a good view of the Bennetts' house. It had been rebuilt recently, in 1964, and looked much the same but for a handful of differences. It was a little larger perhaps, had a better porch, and was otherwise much sturdier and held better against the weather than the old one. It was also now a vibrant shade of 'brick red', with white door-frames, window-frames, and fascia boards. The fence around the yard had also been improved, to grant more privacy whenever he visited.

He waited in his tree, as the hours ticked by, until at last a group of four individuals came into view along the street.

Andrew Bennett, his wife, Claire, and their two sons, David and Ian. Jack was waiting on the porch when they at last reached the house, at which point he was ushered inside before being welcomed enthusiastically. What with hugging an invisible person out on the porch, being something that would look rather strange even in this town.

Once coats and gloves were off, and dinner made and served, all five of them settled down around the table to talk. Culminating in Jack recounting a very funny story about one of his Winter Sprites.

"So there was Yuki, dashing around all over the North of the World last week, trying to find that one missing sprite. She couldn't see it anywhere, and they're normally up to so much mischief that you can't help but notice them even when you're miles away."

David, chin braced on his hands as he listened eagerly, piped in.

"So where was it?"

Jack grinned.

"I found it with it's head stuck in an AC unit, on the top of a tower-block in New York!" He laughed. "There was this irate maintenance guy trying to figure out what was wrong with it, but he couldn't see the real reason it was broken."

Ian giggled.

"So what did you do?"

Jack leapt to his feet, setting a foot on his chair as he mimed out the scene.

"I distracted him by scaring the pigeons that had landed on the roof edge, put my foot to the AC unit, grabbed the sprite by the legs, and pulled! The little guy came flying out of it so fast, I had to let go of him or go backwards off the roof without my staff!"

David gasped, as did his younger brother.

"What happened to it?"

Jack wandered over to the window, seating himself on the 'ail in his usual spot.

"It hit the side of a tower, two blocks downwind, before I had the wind take it back to the Winter Sanctuary for a break. I don't think it'll be exploring AC units again for a while." The two boys laughed, before their smiles then became yawns. That prompted Jack to look at the nearby clock, and note that the time was eight-thirty. "I think you two had best be off to bed, or you'll miss getting any dreams from Sandman."

Ian frowned a little, his tone slightly whining.

"Do we have to go to bed?"

Jack nodded solemnly.

"If you're not in bed by nine o'clock on the dot, then Sandy can't give you any dreams. They come at nine every night, so you have to be in bed by then."

The two boys sighed, not wanting to go to bed, but also not wanting to miss the chance of getting a dream from the Sandman. They put up no further protest as their mother took them upstairs to bath them, brush their teeth, and get them into bed, and Jack was still sat on the windowsill when she came back downstairs .

Claire regarded him from the living-room doorway, still somewhat uncertain about him. She was still a little uncomfortable with the whole 'related to a supposedly mythical spirit' thing, but she was getting there. Even if it had taken two years of gradual persuading, after Andrew had married her, before she'd let her scepticism slide just enough to allow belief to slip in. She still didn't believe, not truly, in Sandy, Tooth, Bunny, or North, but she could not deny the existence of Jack Frost. Not with the frequency with which he showed up during the months of the Northern Winter.

She crossed the room, listening in as Jack and Andrew discussed Jack's immediate weather plans, which mostly involved setting off blizzards in remote areas. The Spirit of Winter hadn't had to do as much avalanche duty in recent years, due to humans beginning to identify and set off danger sites themselves, using explosives. Yuki and Zuě Hu had been doing most of the remainder, easing Jack out of that role so that when the day came that he could openly be a Guardian, he'd have more time to spend on those duties instead.

It was after the boring topic of weather was done, that Jack then smiled and told a shorter summary of the story he'd told the children in the park.

"Phil got me again, and threw me out. I swear, he must have a sixth sense for knowing when I try to bust in, even after I changed tactics and stopped using breezes to locate him. This time I actually tried the basement levels, dug through fifty feet of ice to get in there... and then I tripped over an elf at the top of the basement stairs. Lo behold, Phil was there waiting for me. I froze his beard before he managed to stuff me into a sack like usual. He laughed his head off as he did it. He always does when he knows he's really caught me by surprise."

Andrew laughed at that, as did Claire.

"So he's still enjoying the game?"

Jack grinned and nodded.

"Of course! The last time he catches me each year, I tell him what the kids thought of that year's stories of sneaking into Santa's Workshop. He loves hearing how much they made the kids smile." He spotted a flicker of golden light through the window, and his smile softened as another glance at the clock confirmed it was nine o'clock. "Right on time, Sandman."

Andrew joined him at the window, smiling as well at the sight of ropes of glowing golden sand rippling across the sky. One of them headed for the house, and branched into two just before it reached the upstairs windows.

"Seems he knows you're here. Both boys are getting dreams from him tonight."

Jack sighed, suddenly and inexplicably sleepy as he fought back a yawn.

"Yeah. I wonder what... they're dreaming about..."

He would have said more, but his eyes slipped closed. The culprit was the stream of dreamsand that had come through the front window of the living room, and snuck up on Jack from behind.

Andrew smiled at the dream visible in the sand over Jack's head, of the Spirit of Winter playing with children. His best dream was what he did most days during winter... making children happy.

"He looks forward to coming here for winter, so much. I hate to think what would have become of him, had he not had the town children to give him a purpose other than his winter duties."

Claire, who with a little bit of focus could just make out the dreamsand trails, came over to gently stroke a stray strand of white hair out of Jack's face.

"When I see him like this, he looks so exhausted."

Andrew grimaced.

"The family journals say he's always been a bit too selfless, to the expense of himself. He doesn't rest as often as he should, so now and then the Sandman makes sure he gets a good night's sleep. Jack has us as his family, but there's still so much of the time that he's very much alone. Even when you count the support he gets from his Lieutenants."

"But he won't be forever, will he?"

Andrew put his arm around her shoulders, the both of them watching Jack sleep.

"I don't believe so. He's meant for so much more than just bringing laughter to one town, and winter to the world. Ancestress Emily always believed that, as has every Head of the Family since then."

~(-)~

When Jack woke the following morning, the children having already gotten up and gone to school, it was with a small sigh at the fact Sandy had managed to sneak dreamsand up on him again. His planned snowfall had come down as he'd intended, leaving an inch of snow on the ground. Not quite as much as he'd hoped, but enough for the snowball fight in the park once school was over for the day.

It was 10am, and the house was quiet. Claire was obviously out at work, and upon checking upstairs, Jack found Andrew was sat at the desk in the corner of their room. The area dubbed as his 'office'.

He turned his head when he heard Jack enter, before smiling and holding up the application form he was filling in.

"The town mayor has commissioned the old library building, to be turned into a museum dedicated to the history and traditions of the town, now that the new library is open. I've offered to loan most of our collection of figures and paintings of you, as well as several diaries that document the earliest of the Festivals of First Snow before the founding of Burgess. I'm also applying to become the curator of the new museum."

Jack raised his eyebrows in interest, and came over to look at the documents that detailed what the new museum's exhibits were going to be.

"Hmm, and since I figure heavily throughout almost all of Burgess' history, it'll mean the museum will also be dedicated to me and not just the town." He grinned. "And in that case, I think you'll have that job in the bag. Even these days everyone who lives in Burgess, knows that the Bennetts are the authority when it comes to anything to do with Jack Frost. Besides the Burgens, formerly the Burgess Family, the Bennetts are the only other family here that can trace their line, with proof, back to the founding years of the town."

Andrew's expression became wry.

"And before that time, in our case." He sighed. "The museum will be good for the town, even if it only brings in tourists who are interested in 'myths' and the 'supernatural'."

Jack snorted.

"Like the geeks at the park yesterday?" He shrugged. "I don't know why they even bother to try and film me icing over the statue. It's not like they can see me in the footage."

Andrew regarded him, his voice holding a hint of concern.

"But those who believe in you can... Do be careful, Jack. The world isn't like the way it was back then. That immortals can be seen in photos and movie footage, proves that you're not really invisible. It's just that something in the minds of people, blocks you out from their perception."

Jack let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes at that.

"Dumb Adult Logic, that's all there is to it. The same thing that makes an immortal's power turn them insubstantial if a non-believer is about to walk through them." He raised a finger as he made his point. "And I have to say, that it has to be the most annoying ingrained instinct for an immortal to have. When you've actually figured out it's self-inflicted, that is. Although I made a point not to mention it to any of the other immortals except Sandy. Since there's one in particular I could name, who would try to get around it in order to cause trouble."

Andrew, still concerned at Jack's lack of concern, gave him a long look.

"I take it that means you're still trying to bypass it?"

Jack's expression became bemused.

"I can touch people if they don't believe in me, but only if I do it gently. Like a small tug on clothing or hair. If I try anything more, my damned powers kick-in and I start passing through them again. I doubt I'll ever manage to repress it to the point I can truly interact through touch, with anyone whether they believe in me or not. But still, what I have managed to achieve, is great for pranks..." His smile became sly. "The kids around town love it when I pull open the collar of an unsuspecting adult, and drop snow down their back."

Andrew sighed, shaking his head as he resumed filling in the application form.

"There are times when I wonder if or not you're actually a good role-model for the town's children."

Jack's only retort to that, was to poke his tongue out at him.

~(-)~

Winter continued on, as usual, through into the year 1968, and Jack hung around the town during his spare time, just as he always did. Andrew got the job as the museum curator, and it had been agreed it would be declared open at the next Festival of First Snow. Everything was so simple, and going so well, that by the time it was two days before Easter, and Jack was due to leave in a week or so, none would have expected what came next.

Jack had been playing in the backyard with David and Ian, and the two boys had just been called inside by their mother to get warmed up. He was all set to follow them indoors, when a familiar presence made him pause and turn.

It was Mother Nature, here in Burgess of all places. Claire, Andrew, and the boys couldn't see her, meaning that as they watched from inside the house, Jack seemed to be talking to thin-air.

He faced her, mildly irritated at the interruption, but otherwise resigned.

"Weather request? Ok, when and where?"

At his blunt question, there was a long pause, before Mother Nature regarded him with a hint of regret.

"Time has come due for another big storm, Jack. You've been exemplary in maintaining your Season as of the past seven years, but there's one region in which you've been unduly lenient." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Jack, but you're going to have to hit Burgess, and all of the eastern states. Not because they've not had enough snow, but because other areas have had too much in proportion to them. The ratios are wrong between the east and the west, the balance is uneven, and it must be restored.

Jack stared at her, with a sinking feeling quickly forming in his gut.

"But it's two days until Easter! If I hit the eastern states now, with the kind of blizzard you're calling for, Bunnymund is going to want my head on a platter!"

Mother Nature remained unmoved, her expression still one of regret.

"The Forces of Nature do not heed to the Forces of Man. As the Spirit of Winter, this is your duty, Jack... It is unfortunate that Easter coincides with the time, when the conditions are favourable to set this storm in motion, but it must be done. Or do you wish to be responsible for an even worse storm, and the consequences thereof?"

She vanished before Jack could protest further, and after several moments to compose himself, he faced the house and pasted on a smile as he walked over and entered.

"Just an acquaintance of mine, stopping by for a weather check."

He deliberately ignored the fleeting expression of concern on Andrew and Claire's faces, just as he ignored his orders all day, and all night, and all the way through to the following afternoon. But he could feel the weather systems beginning to back up and get stuck, yet kept telling himself 'one more day'... One more and Easter would have passed, and he could blast the eastern states with snow just as Mother Nature wanted him to.

But it wasn't to be... Within an hour of him sensing the weather getting stuck, late in the afternoon, he also felt Mother Nature grip it and set it in motion again with force that was both clumsy and necessarily harsh compared to the finesse with which he could control the weather.

He was forced to stop in the middle of a game with the boys, between one instant and the next as he abandoned them in their yard and soared up into the sky. Such was the haste with which he had to take control of the storm back from Mother Nature, that he didn't even stop to hang icicles from the staff of his statue in the park to give Burgess its weather warning. He barely even managed to fire one off to Tooth, in the form of a hexagon of ice with a map of the eastern states on it, such was the speed with which the storm took hold and began to screech through the skies. He could only hope she thought to relay the warning to Bunnymund as well.

Jack became totally wrapped up in the storm, controlling it, tempering its fury back to a more reasonable level, and then spending the night flitting around helping out dozens upon dozens of tooth fairies. By morning there was three feet of snow on the ground in some places, and more was still coming down...

It was then that the most agonising thing he'd ever experienced, happened.

Jack almost dropped from the sky, doubled over in horror when the pain first began to make itself felt. He'd known the faint, forlorn snap of a child ceasing to believe in the Immortals once they'd reached their teens, for a long time. It was something he was used to, as part and parcel of the way things were, but that steady and normal flow of new believers taking the place of former ones, was nothing compared to the all-encompassing wrench of this...

This was his first ever 'Belief Blackout', caused by the combination of the blizzard burying Easter in the eastern states. Children couldn't go outside to hunt eggs, and even if they could, the chances of finding any would be almost zero. And so they were losing faith in Easter, and the Easter Bunny, and that had the knock-on effect of backlashing through the whole belief system. Because if the Easter Bunny wasn't real, then how could Santa, the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, and Jack Frost be real?

Jack gasped in agony as he remained in the teeth of the storm, feeling his relatively tiny collection of believers blinking out one-by-one. But it was nothing compared to the impact, when the subconscious echoes of the Blackout spread to include Andrew, Claire, and their sons. Jack's cries became a choked scream now, one of torment as the Blackout turned his greatest fear into reality.

His family had forgotten he was real, all of them had forgotten, even though he knew Sandy would ensure their loss of belief was only fleeting. Such was the pain of that, in addition to the agony of the Blackout itself, that after spreading one last command into the weather so the storm would end on its own at the correct time, Jack fled to the Winter Sanctuary. Where he then huddled in the entrance hall of his palace, and cried ice where he lay collapsed and shuddering on the floor.

Meanwhile, in the skies, the lights to summon the Guardians were shining.

~(-)~

Alaia Skyhawk: There you have it, part one of the Blizzard of '68 :)