* And for some clarification, there is no romance in this fiction. It's all brotherly fluff with occasional Sophie and Bunny bonding moments.
Spring Fever
Jack's ears pounded at the sound of the child's agonistic coughing. He fidgeted the shepherd's crook from hand to hand before shaking his head and jumping from the windowsill. With a smooth glide, the spirit brushed passed the oblivious adults and jumped nimbly to crouch atop the child's dresser.
A thin man stood over Jamie's bed while the boy's mother watched impatiently from the other end of the room. The man grumbled confusedly to himself as he drew the thermometer from the kid's mouth.
"Well," the doctor said with a hand on his chin and an eye on the gauge. "He certainly has a fever," he confirmed before rattling off the temperature.
The winter spirit rolled his eyes as he inspected the perspiration matting over his friend's face and hair. "Really," Jack laughed sardonically as he bent foreword to swipe beads of sweat from Jamie's forehead. "Could've fooled me."
Obviously not hearing Jack, the doctor brushed his lab coat before throwing a brief glance to the mother. From his perch, Jack kept a wary eye on the doctor as the man leaned to feel the glands under Jamie's jaw. The boy, exhausted, overheated and not bothering to open his eyes, moaned in his sleep and then dove into a fit of sharp and painful hacks.
Jack glowered agitatedly, but shook his head. The doctor's just doing his job, he calmed himself. You don't need to turn the guy into an ice block. Still, the winter spirit suddenly found himself hopping down from the dresser to stand next to the bed.
"He just needs bed rest," the pediatrician turned back to the nervous mother.
Jack tuned them out as he crouched until he was eye level with the half-conscious boy. A groan escaped Jamie as he shoved the covers away, revealing the sweat stains on his baggy pajama shirt. Jack winced when he felt a sharp stab somewhere in the back of his head. The winter spirit knew it wasn't going to be fun if either of them got sick, especially with the bond. And while Jack wasn't ill at all, their connection still required him to undergo the pain of Jamie's coughs and headaches.
For two days straight, the spirit found himself unable to leave, instinct to look after his kid dictating his winter schedule. Though Burgess was just recently done with the snowy season, other places still needed it. However, even if he was feeling cooped up, Jack, both willingly and involuntarily, refused to leave.
Jack ignored the obnoxiously shrill voice of the doctor and huffed as the little kid let out another series of coughs. Briefly pursing his lips, the Guardian raised his fingertips and pressed them lightly against Jamie's throat. His hands flashed a brilliant shade of blue over the clammy skin, and Jamie's scrunched face finally relaxed, along with a peaceful sigh.
"…And his cough?" Jack vaguely heard the mother ask.
"The medication you're using right now is perfect," the doctor confirmed as he scratched a grey brow. "Just worry about the fever." The man grabbed his bag. "Notify me if there are any other problems."
The closing click of the wooden bedroom door signaled the doctor and mother's departure. All that was left from them was the woman's gentle kiss on her son's hair and the fading of the adults' conversation as they headed downstairs. Jack also could've sworn he heard the vibrations of a cell phone in a pocket.
Jack gave a frustrated grumble as a warm breeze rifled through the room, making the younger boy roll uncomfortably on the bed. Jack stood straighter and swung his to staff to silently command the wind to pull the window shut.
As he walked away from the bed to the far side of the room, Jack rubbed his palms together, forming a small disc of ice no bigger than his hands. When he made it to a yellowing, rickety fan residing on the desk near the wall, the spirit tried to turn its knob further, but it wouldn't budge. Far as it could crank, the fan was on full blast, but its air could only reach out a few feet. And the power outlet behind Jamie's nightstand wasn't functional, so moving the fan closer wasn't an option.
Jack snapped his gaze from the infuriating electronic when Jamie's bed creaked. The little boy kicked the blanket all the way off the bed as he sat up to face his glassy eyes at the spirit. Jack cracked a crooked, albeit worried, grin. "How you feeling, kiddo?"
Jamie groaned and used the corner of the bed sheet to wipe the back of his neck. "Feels too hot," Jamie muttered, and Jack had to suppress a light chuckle at the underlying whine. Jamie tilted his head slightly. "I think it's just because it's warmer out," Jamie said, looking intently at his Guardian. "Right?"
"More than likely," Jack nodded, leaning on the edge of the desk and placing the ice disc next to him. "Your body is probably always going to be stuck between human and winter spirit," he mused at his own theory. "Warm weather isn't exactly going to agree with you anymore, unless you know how to lower your core temperature, but that's a lesson for another day. In the meantime," Jack said with a growing grin, sliding the ice disc off the desk and slipping it between the spokes of the fan. "This'll have to do."
Jamie closed his eyes, humming in appreciation as the fan shaved off tiny, harmless shards of ice from the disc, the magic from the cold substance being propelled through the room, but mostly toward Jamie's bed. Jack started twirling his staff in relief at the chilly change in temperature. The child let out a groggy laugh as he flopped backward onto the bed, and before he could make a comment a knock sounded at his door, making him bolt upright.
"Jamie," his mother called from the hallway.
"Yes," the boy answered, but trailed off as soon as he noticed the ferns of frost spreading over the bedposts, the floor, and even covering some of his posters. He gasped. "Uh, don't come in!"
"Is everything okay? Are you feeling all right?"
"Yeah! Just, um…" Jamie bit his lip as he watched Jack lean over some papers on the nightstand, trying to clear ice away from his latest drawings. The little kid shook his head. "What's up," Jamie hollered as he held his throat as if to hold in another cough.
Jamie heard his mother's feet shuffling against the carpet outside the door. "I just got called into work...again; they want to talk to me about the article I'm writing for them. Would you like me to see if one of our neighbors can babysit you, sweetie?"
Jack snickered and a light blush painted the younger boy's cheeks. "Mom, I'm almost in high school," he protested after throwing a pillow at the bubbly winter spirit. "I don't need a babysitter."
"Fine, fine," she said, and Jamie envisioned the woman raising her hands in defense. "By the way, have you seen your sister?"
"She's hanging out with Bunnymund."
"Who?"
Jamie's shoulders sagged before he opened his mouth again. "She's over at a friend's house."
After a short 'goodbye' was exchanged, the mother's footsteps could be heard going down the stairs once more, and as soon as he heard the front door slam shut, Jamie turned to a wide-grinning Jack Frost.
"Don't worry, sweetie," Jack chuckled, running a hand through the child's short hair. "I'll keep an eye on you." And while there was some seriousness to his lighthearted words, Jack's face was still met with another pillow.
In a matter of months Jamie was going to be a freshman. Ah, yes. And in a couple more years he'd be ready to graduate, move onto college to enter a world of further education…while probably still appearing less than twelve years old. Jack knew that his growth was going to be stunted by the bond, but he hadn't anticipated a pause that would last more than a few years. He perhaps looked a year or two older since they first met, but there was overall no change, both physically and in demeanor. Jamie had grown a bit wiser and maybe adopted some of Jack's sarcasm, but he still retained his sweet innocence that made him Jamie.
"Okay," the winter spirit continued, waving his staff to bring about a light snowfall. He sat on the edge of the bed. "The warden's gone. So, what do you want to do?" Jamie shrugged as he cupped a few, un-melting snowflakes in his little hands. Jack hummed as he looked up to stare at the falling snow. "We could," he began. "have a snowball fight, go sledding, make a few blizzards…"
"Sledding would be awesome, but it's the beginning of spring, Jack," Jamie quipped accusingly, but smiled anyway as Jack took a few chunks of frost from the bedposts to smooth over the kid's overheated face. "I still can't believe you made it storm in Hawaii last Christmas."
"I like to hold true to my promises," Jack remarked, dusting his hands off before standing up with a lithe skip in step. "And I don't care if it's spring. I am Jack Frost, remember?" Jack held his hand out to the child and asked, "You wanted to go sledding, right?"
"We've been holed up in that room for more than two days," Jack sat down, glancing back at Jamie as the kid choked out a few dry hacks. "We've earned a break, don't you think?"
Jamie coughed into a baggy sleeve again, but had a smile plastered to his face. "Definitely." His excitement grew when Jack positioned the laundry basket to teeter at the very top of the stairs, a nice layer of snow crunching under the plastic.
In hindsight, covering the entire house, aside from electronics, in a foot of fresh snow was neither a good idea nor convenient. However, as much as just covering the stairs with snow was great, it wouldn't have given off the blissful chill they were feeling now. The kid only hoped the Guardian would clean it all up before his mother got home. But knowing Jack…
Jack felt Jamie's hands clasp onto the back of his hoodie as the laundry basket began to nosedive. With an energized whoop, from either Jack or Jamie, the duo found themselves zipping speedily down the staircase, veering around the corner, and sliding closer to the bottom step until leveling out and coming to a sudden halt on top of the door mat. The next hour or so was spent this way, riding down the staircase, brotherly arguing on who should sit in the front or back, and Jack went so far as to build an ice ramp, and to even fish Jamie's toboggan out of the rusty, leaning shed in the backyard.
Jamie let out a scrapy laugh as he slid down the stairs. However, instead of using the sled or basket, the child only held on to the hook of the staff as Jack pulled him briskly, but steadily, down the stairs. Right before Jamie got to the bottom step, Jack swung his staff wide, forcing the kid to let go and land deep in a snow bank along the kitchen wall. Jack and Jamie let out a simultaneous laugh as the winter spirit made the snow cease falling.
"I can't wait to be able to make snow on my own," Jamie whispered a little more calmly, hands and legs spanning to make a snow angel.
"Remind me what that blizzard a couple months ago was?" Jack grinned, trying to hide the scowl forming from the growing headache. Most likely Jamie's medication was wearing off. Jack leapt onto the kitchen counter to grab a small bottle and empty glass from two cabinets. He filled the glass with tap water before plopping down next to Jamie. Handing the glass to the kid, Jack shook the mouth of the bottle over his hand before a small pill rolled out.
Jamie grimaced as he took the pill from the spirit. "I hate taking these."
"I'd rather take that than that foul liquid stuff," Jack murmured, closing the bottle while watching the kid down the medicine.
"I don't even feel sick anymore."
Jack quirked an eyebrow and brushed a hand over the little kid's forehead. "You still have a fever."
"I wouldn't have the fever if I could change my body temperature," Jamie crossed his arms stubbornly. "I wouldn't have the fever if I could make it snow on my own." The kid ran his stuffed nose over the sleeve of his nightshirt.
Jack bit his lip. "Jamie, it's-"
"I know, I know," Jamie nodded, messy hair falling in front of his chocolate eyes. "You don't want me tiring myself out, but I have to learn this stuff sooner or later." Jack only shook his head slowly and looked around at the snow that was quite possibly melting and ruining the furniture of the house.
Overexertion was merely part of the reason why Jack was only allowing him to do select magic. Jack liked making snow for Jamie. He liked holding the little kid when he had a fever or was too warm on a summer's day. Whether it stemmed from his Guardian instincts, or from missing the vague moments with his little sister, he couldn't pinpoint it.
He simply liked taking caring of Jamie.
Then again, there was the bond to consi-
Freezing cold and wet smashed over the Guardian's face. With an amused cringe, he shook the snow away and rolled his cerulean eyes at the boy. He saw that Jamie was now standing in front of him, rocking on his heels whilst looking away as if nothing happened.
"Ah, yes," Jack smacked his forehead as if he forgot something. "We had a snowball fight scheduled."
Showing all his teeth in the smile, Jack piled snow in his hands, took to the air, and threw them at the kid. Jamie took the hit, but slid across the icy kitchen floor and behind the counter, using much of the small kitchen as a shield and using lower shelves to stock ammo.
Their fight went on for several long minutes, snow flying here and snow crashing there. Their laughter and energy became so raucous that Jamie couldn't even feel his fever or headache anymore. Even his sore throat was abating. Of course, they were having so much fun that they didn't notice the intruding waft of the warm outside air, or the suspicious sliding of the discarded laundry basket.
"James Lucas Bennett!"
Jamie immediately looked over the counter at the voice, and his stomach lurched sickeningly. In the doorway, laundry basket dangling loosely in hand and mouth wide open, was his mother. Eyes wide with shock, she spun, inch by inch, to incredulously inspect her home now incased in a winter wonderland.
"Um, d-don't worry," Jamie glanced briefly at Jack, who was just as unsure as he was. "Jack and I, um…we'll clean this up. We promise! Right, Jack?" The boy set a pleading stare on his friend, but he could tell by Jack's scolded face that he didn't have a plan either.
The mother continued looking around, jaw moving wordlessly like a fish out of water.
"It'll all melt eventually." Jamie tried to find reassuring words. "Oh, and I don't feel sick anymore!"
The woman still said nothing, but her stiff posture melted away when she stumbled back, worn shoes shuffling over the snow that covered much of the living room. Jamie asked aloud if she was all right, but his words came out as soon as the mother's face paled white as the snow. And before either boys could jolt to catch her, she'd already fallen over in a faint. Thankfully, the snow was there to break her fall.
Jack flexed his jaw as Jamie ran to his mother's side. The child looked disparately up at the hovering Guardian. Jack pursed his lips, still holding snow in his palms. He gently floated down until his feet touched the countertop.
And then, with lame exuberance, Jack held up his snowball-clad hands and donned a shaky smile. "Welcome home!"
* I had to make up Jamie's middle name –I apologize – but the name Lucas actually means "light". So, I thought it'd be fitting.