Hi! I am SO sorry that this took so long, but because of my hectic life…I just didn't have the time….
So this is to be an angsty one! I know that we are all kind of using our best judgment as far as what time period Jack lived in, and I'm wondering if maybe he wasn't alive during the American revolution; I mean, it's a solid theory, right? So I thought I would make a story where Jack has a memory flashback in the middle of a stressful situation, and it turns into angst/family fluffer nutter.
ENJOY!
And no….I DON'T OWN ROTG! *sigh* This constant reiteration of how the guardians don't belong to me is cruel and unusual torture…
"Hurry," North bellowed to his yetis "We must fortify door! Place catapults at windows on all sides of workshop, do not give them foot!"
"That's 'Don't give them an inch'!" Jack cried his staff whirling and twirling as he shot a seemingly endless barrage of sharp icicles out of the window he had been posted at.
North merely shrugged at the correction "Whatever…"
Bunny found himself laughing at the two, his paws merely a blur as he threw exploding egg bombs out his window towards the ebony ocean surrounding the castle "Don't even try snowflake, I've known him for centuries, and he still hasn't gotten the hang of English colloquialisms."
"That is not true Bunny!" the large man cried with an affronted look "I am much better than I was when we first met!"
Tooth sighed and shared an amused shrug with Sandy, pulling the lever on the catapult she was manned with. For the past two hours all the guardians had been defending the North Pole from a large scale attack on the outside by scores of Nightmares. Behind the ocean of black equines stood Pitch, his sharp teeth glistening in the moonlight as he bared them with all the malice he held against the guardians for his defeat. In truth, none of them felt as carefree as they sounded, they were just fending off the onslaught of negative feelings that led to fear, and ultimately powered their enemy.
Unfortunately Jack wasn't fairing that well anyways.
He had somehow managed to plaster his usual mischievous grin across his face as he shot ice out of the window, but his head was beginning to pound, and his vision was starting to get blurry around the edges. Something about this attack seemed all too familiar, and Jack could feel the beginnings of a flashback coming on. The sounds of screams and broken cries began to echo in his ears as the memory slowly came to him, but the winter spirit shook his head, flinging them from his mind. Once again turning to the window, Jack continued his assault against the ebony masses rising against them. Tooth turned to Jack her mouth opened to yell an attempt at a joke, but when she saw a grimace of pain flash across his face, she stopped. Brow furrowing in worry, the Tooth fairy flew towards the boy, one hand gently resting on his shoulder.
"Jack," she asked softly "are you ok?"
Shocked blue eyes rose up to meet hers, but quickly ducked down in embarrassment as he gave a heavy swallow. "Ah…" he chuckled nervously "Yeah, just a killer headache is all."
Tooth's eyes narrowed as she heard Jack's reasoning. She knew about amnesia victims, knew what it did to them just to remember the things that had been lost to them. Headaches were the forerunner to an intense flashback, and judging from their situation, it might be a pretty stressful one. Anything could trigger it, which could mean they might have a delirious winter spirit unable to control his powers on the inside as they tried to fend off foes on the outside. But in the end, there was nothing she could do. Once a memory began to surface, there was no way of suppressing it without hurting the person receiving the memory. Jack was either going to have a flashback now, or later, but it was coming regardless. Choosing to keep this to herself so not to worry Jack, Tooth went back to the battle at hand, hoping against hope that it was simply a headache and nothing more, though in the back of her mind she knew the truth.
Jack watched the fairy fly away, his brain buzzing with warning bells telling him that she was onto him, but he had enough problems of his own right now. The screams echoing from the graves of the past were growing louder and louder in his mind, and Jack had no idea how to fend them off. One eye closed in a harsh wince of pain, the boy gripped his hair with one hand as his vision darkened, throwing him back to a time when he was still human. Darkness; lit only by the occasional torch, and the sounds of screaming ripping through the blackness of night. Jack had been fourteen during then, just two short years before he drowned in the lake and became Jack Frost, and his family was embroiled in what would later be known as the Revolutionary War.
America made war against the British armies in their attempt to gain freedom from their parent stem. In the hope of claiming their right to freedoms previously denied them by a King currently viewed as a tyrant, the people fought tooth and nail in the hopes of obtaining their own land upon which to create their own empire and see their children grow up in strength, honor, dignity, and most of all…Freedom. Jack's father had been a strong advocate of independence, often getting into fights on the street with other men who did not agree with his point of view, and Jack had been raised in a home that longed for the freedoms that their new homeland had to offer.
But one night had changed everything…
Jack's mind reeled as he was thrust into the memory, leaning against the wall he slowly slid down to the floor, his eyes wide with past events playing before them like a ghostly play. He could see it all, the village, his home, and worst of all…his father. Jackson Overland loved his dad. He loved the way his father's heavy footsteps would echo through the house making him and his mom feel safe by the strength of his presence. He loved the way his father always smelled of wood smoke and leather. He loved the way his father would play the fiddle every night before bed, sometimes even pulling his mother up out of her chair to dance a jig that they had brought from their previous homeland. Jack had been taught their trade of tanning hides into leather, how to fiddle, and how to dance in the way of their heritage way back in Ireland.
Unfortunately, the one thing Jack inherited from his father and his homeland was the very thing that cost his father dearly…the Irish temper.
Ireland was known for its brave warriors. Men who had as little fear for death as they did of their own homes, who would bravely charge on a field of battle with their weapons held high, and valued family above all else. Jack's father was no different, having rounded up many of the village's men in hopes of helping contribute to the rebel forces led by Washington, and he was very bold in his declarations of the need for war for the good of the town. He had many opinions about the British, and how much he wanted to make America his new home away from the tyranny in Europe, and everyone eventually heard all of them. They knew he would forever miss his homeland, but the yearning for freedom drove him to leave it in search of new skies. That night however, the British came to their small colony, in search of the man who was causing them so much trouble…and they found him.
Jack had been in the sitting room, practicing on the old fiddle played so often by his father when he had heard banging on the door. His brow furrowed in confusion, he had exchanged looks with his sister before slowly getting up to open the front door only to find a large man in a red coat standing outside their house. The adult glared down his nose at the boy before bellowing out;
"Where is Jackson Overland?"
Jack gave a heavy swallow before straightening his back and matching the British officer glare for glare "He's not here." He ground out.
"Jack?" the boy wilted at the sound of his father's voice as the larger man stomped down the hall and towards the door "Who is there son?"
"Not here, eh?" the officer smirked before addressing the boy's father "I have business to discuss with you concerning matters of a delicate nature."
Jack just growled his distaste before feeling his father's heavy hand squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. Looking up, the boy gazed on the face of the man whom he loved so dearly as he stared down the officer.
"And what," Jackson senior asked slowly in his Irish brogue "would a British officer of the King's military wish to discuss with a humble tanner like me?"
"A humble tanner you may be," the officer snarled "but you are also the man who has brazenly been traveling from village to village crying out for Independence and rounding up men to fight against the King."
"Who's King?" Jackson senior snorted "Certainly not mine, and certainly not my family's. These colonies maybe once belonged to the empire of Great Britain but no longer, and I will no longer bend my knee to any man who declares himself a king. My family and I will live in freedom, away from the tyranny and unfair taxes of Europe."
"Your petty opinions are hardly my concern…" the officer sighed.
"No, neither are your colonies here, which your King has made abundantly clear through his blatant disregard and negligent treatment of this country." Jackson senior sighed "Look, I do not have to go anywhere with you for any crime that you can think of."
"You will if I tell my men to attack your home and kill your family due to your lack of cooperation." The British officer smirked.
Jackson Overland senior froze, his eyes widened at the threat that he could see in his enemy's eyes as a dangerous promise that would be kept if the man did not keep his end of the bargain. Finally, bowing his head, the older man gave a sigh of resignation and nodded. "Proceed then, with your dirty work."
The office gave a wicked grin, and bellowed out the death sentence "You are hereby being accused of acts of betrayal against the crown and the sovereign empire of Great Britain, and as such you will be sentenced to die a traitor's death at the hands of my men."
Jack felt his heart clench in his chest as the words spoken by the British officer sank in "But," he said numbly "but he hasn't done anything wrong! All we want is freedom, how is that wrong?!"
"Shut up boy, unless you want to die with your father!" the officer spat.
"But…!"
"Jack," The Irish lilt, soft with sorrow but hard with the determination to protect his family broke through Jack's objections "get inside with yer mum."
"No!" Jack replied forcefully "I can help, I can fight!"
"Jackson Overland!" The older man bellowed causing Jack to wilt his eyes growing wide at being yelled at by his father.
Jackson senior sighed heavily, and then knelt down in order to look his son in the eye. "You are so strong my son," he said with brown eyes shining with pride "and I would not want anyone else fighting alongside me in our battle for freedom, but this is one battle that ye cannot fight."
"But Da…" Jack began, his chin quivering with the effort it took to hold the sobs in "I don't want to lose you."
Jackson senior gazed deeply into his son's eyes, one hand stroking his head before enveloping him into a crushing hug. Jack sobbed into his father's shoulder, clinging to him as if he hoped that the strength of his embrace alone would save his father. Above them the officer sighed before growling;
"Either come out here quietly, or I will have my men attack your home and burn you and your entire family inside it."
"Be silent!" Jackson senior snarled "Ye are getting my cooperation, the least ye can do is allow me to say my farewell to the lad!"
"Please don't go!" Jack sobbed "We can fight, I can help you win, you don't have to go!"
"Jackson," the man whispered "listen to me lad, I need you to protect your mum."
"I can't" Jack wailed "That's your job, I'm not old enough, you need to stay here!"
"Jackson, listen to me!" with a sigh, Jackson senior finally continued once his son stilled down to a soft whimper "I need you to protect your mum, and your sister. You're the man of the house now, and no matter what, don't let anything happen to them."
With a mute nod, the moments stretched almost into endless slow motion as Jack watched horrified his father stand and walk, his proud head held high, out of the door. The boy followed, screaming for his father, only to be held back by two British soldiers. All around him fires set to the homes that proved less than cooperative raged, and the screams of wives and children shrieked through the night air. Jack was held in place, his mouth agape as he screamed and sobbed, his large brown eyes watching the execution of his father not even a hundred feet away. With a resounding crack from the guns held by British military, the body slumped forward, and the boy was finally released.
Jack lunged forward, his tear stained face screwed in the agony of his heartbreak, and scrabbled on the ground towards his father. The memory slowly came to a close with the last thing Jack Frost saw being him, holding the lifeless form of his father in his arms, wrenching sobs shaking his thin frame. The winter spirit barely comprehended that he was screaming uncontrollably, his pale hands gripping his white hair as wide blue eyes stared unblinking at the ceiling. Tears streamed down his face, only to freeze halfway down his cheeks as his shoulders shook from the heart wrenching sobs ripping from his throat.
Bunny sat, holding the boy in his arms, his nose twitching anxiously as he looked between Toothiana and the sprite "What's do ya mean he's havin' a flashback?" he cried.
"I'm so sorry Aster" Tooth wept "There is nothing I can do. Once a person starts regaining their lost memories, certain events can trigger a recall, and Jack is experiencing a memory all over again as if he were living through it the first time."
"If that is truth," North murmured, his blue eyes gazing on the tortured form of the winter spirit "then I cannot help but wonder what Jack has lived through to make him scream in such a way."
Bunny felt his breath hitch in his throat as his heart clenched in worry for the child sobbing and screaming in his arms. Gathering him close, the rabbit snuffled the boy's temple, trying to reassure him that all was well. The guardians stood there, each quietly processing how to help their youngest member until a loud yell came from outside.
"Oh Guardians!" a mocking voice sang "Come out, come out from wherever you are! Or have you given up?"
"Pitch…" Tooth groaned wearily "What do we do? We can't fight Pitch with Jack in his current condition."
"No, we cannot" North sighed "there is only one thing to do…. I will go out and try to reason with him."
"Reason with him?" Aster snorted incredulously "Ya can't reason with that drongo!"
"Then I will challenge him to one on one fight, but I will not let him keep attacking my home and hurting my family!" North said sternly his eyes ablaze with fiery determination.
Bunny opened his mouth to shoot back a retort but found himself unable to. In truth, a one on one challenge was their best bet. If North won, then Pitch would leave them in peace to lick his wounds, and if he lost, then the Boogeyman would still be weakened enough to be be beaten by the rest of them. Either way, they had little choice. With a nod, Father Christmas stood, and dusted off his knees from where he had been sitting on the floor next to the Pooka.
"It is decided then," he said softly "I will go out to meet Pitch."
The large man turned towards the door, and walked only three or four steps before he was suddenly tackled by a blur of blue and white "NO!"
North whirled around to see bloodshot blue eyes swimming with tears looking up at him as pale fists clenched his coat "Jack?" the man whispered, his brow furrowed in both concern and confusion.
"Y-you can't go…They'll kill you!" Jack shrieked suddenly in Irish accented English "Please, we can fight, I can help, but don't go!"
"Jack, I do not think this is possible, you do not know what you are doing." North looked deeply into the wild azure eyes, usually bright, but now clouded by the fog of the past rearing its ugly head.
"No! I do!" His fists let go of his shirt and pounded on the man's broad chest "I can fight…PLEASE! I don't want to lose you again, don't leave me alone Da!"
North felt his breath catch in his throat as all in the room suddenly forgot how to breathe. Jack collapsed onto the floor, still caught in the throes of his memory, heartbreaking sobs echoing through the stillness of the room.
"I don't want to be alone," he wept "I'm not ready, I'm not strong enough to take care of mum, and Sophie…I can't do it…I'm not brave like you…Please Da, I need you, don't leave me…"
Blue clad arms wrapped themselves around his torso as Jack hugged himself, his body doubling over as screams of grief and pain mingled with the sobs wrenching themselves from his throat. Aster bowed his head, tears trickling down his grey fur, and Tooth sobbed quietly in a corner, and Sandy covered his grief stricken face as they listened to Jack's Irish brogue plea with North not to leave, not to die, not to abandon him. North listened, and with a strangled sob of his own, knelt down to gather the boy in his arms.
"Alright Jack" the large man wept "We'll fight…together, we'll fight, and I won't leave you, not ever!"
"Really?" Jack's azure eyes peeked up at North a relieved grin lighting his face "We'll fight the British, together?"
"Da," North nodded, smiling through his tears "We will."
Suddenly the front door flew open, Pitch striding through, his face painted with disgust at being left alone for so long. "What is wrong with you people?" he spat "Have you forgotten how to defend from a raid?"
Jack's eyes sparked with the word raid, and he sprang up from North's embrace, whirling his staff in a way not seen since the ancient Celtic warriors. Slamming one end across Pitch's jaw, he twirled the wood to swoop low, and knock the Boogey man's feet out from under him. Slamming one foot down on Pitch's chest, Jack shoved the end of his staff just under the nightmare king's nose as a dare to try to move.
"Don't you ever think that you can threaten my family." The boy snarled "My father is the bravest man alive, and will never cooperate with a cowardly dog like you!"
Pitch gaped at the transformation that had taken place in the boy, both in his accent and in his attitude "I think…" the boogey man said slowly "that this is a bad time. Good night."
With an explosion of black sand, Pitch disappeared, beating a hasty retreat leaving Jack standing unsteadily on his feet. A triumphant grin lit his face, and just before he collapsed, the guardians heard him say "Long live the American colonies."
OK….Took way longer than I wanted, and still didn't turn out the way I hoped…but oh well…
We are at 185 reviews! Meaning we are only 15 reviews away from 200, and whoever is the 200th reviewer gets a one shot request of their very own! Rules apply, and to anyone who don't know what they are reread and find the chapter where I posted them. I will repost the rules when I announce the winner.
Have a great night!