Jack soon found himself back in Santoff Claussen. His cheek was no longer bleeding, and he had already cleaned the blood off with his hoodie sleeve. He was uncomfortable, almost unbearably uncomfortable. The worst part, in his opinion, was that Bunny had tunneled them straight inside the workshop. He was looking forward to the cold winter air on his face, but it was all for naught.

All of the Guardians, besides Jack, were sitting in comfy armchairs and couches around one of the many fireplaces. Elves with trays of cookies were constantly running to and fro. Bunny, Tooth, and North were trying to discuss a new plan, and Sandy was half-asleep from fixing Bunny's dye river. While the other's chatted, Jack found himself by a window. We watched as the wind picked up and was blowing snowing in every which way. He couldn't hear it properly thanks to the glass and couldn't tell if it was just the regular wind or if it was his companion Wind. Jack never stayed indoors that long, so they were never separated for very long. Jack found himself longing for nothing more than to be outside.

He ran a hand across his face. Was he sweating? He felt like he was. He wasn't even sure he could sweat. His mouth felt dry. It was a strange feeling as he never needed to eat or drink. He could always try to eat snow, he guessed. He'd be lying if he said he didn't try it at least once in his 300 years of being Jack Frost. He rested his staff in the crook of his arm, cupped his hands together, and blew. A perfect sighed snowball. He took a bite, and the cold felt nice. Unfortunately, the snowball was melting and dripping from his hand. Odd, he thought, because his hands were supposed to keep things cold. He couldn't even hold Baby Tooth without her shivering. It shouldn't be melting, and yet it was.

The snowball continued to melt, so he blew on it to avoid spilling it everywhere. He left the window and walked into the hallways of Santoff Claussen. They were large with red carpet, wooden walls, and the occasional crystal chandelier. An elf would jingle by here and there, but they were all relatively busy doing whatever it was the elves did. Jack's bare feet made a pitter-patter on the plush carpet. He wiggled his toes. Even the carpet felt warm.

He whispered his thoughts, "Warm?"

He looked back from where he had walked. There wasn't a single speck of frost on any of it. He furrowed his brows in confusion. Everywhere he went, he always left a trail of frost. Even in Bunny's Warren, the dew on the grass would freeze, though it always melted so Bunny never noticed.

Another elf jingled by him. He turned to it quickly, noted that it had half a gingerbread man cookie in its mouth, and ask it, "Does it feel cold in here to you?"

The elf shook its head, the bells on its hat jingling, and shrugged its shoulders almost asking. Jack asked it, "It is hot? Like, really hot? Like a desert or a furnace?"

The elf shook his head again. Jack frowned, "Where are the yetis?"

The elf pointed down the hall, but to Jack, it didn't mean much. The place was huge. Jack decided to make a deal, "Why don't you show me where they're at?" After the elf seemed to look hesitant, he quickly added, "I'll give you this snowball. Fairtrade?"

The elf shoved the rest of the cookie in its mouth before he reached up for the snowball. Jack handed it to him and the elf couldn't help but do a little dancy dance at how excited it was. It skipped in another direction, and Jack grinned as he followed it.

By the time Jack was led into the toy-making section of the workshop, the snowball had completely melted. The elf looked upset, but it didn't matter as the yetis working the floor shooed it away. One of the yetis with brown fur was painting a toy robot blue. Jack knew that yeti from anywhere, "Hey, Phil."

Phil looked away from his delicate brushes to the Child of Ice and huffed his nostrils. Jack raised his hands in defense, "Easy. The Big Guy said I can be here. His idea really."

Phil huffed again and continued back on working on the toys. Jack tried again, "So Phil, do yetis have a place where they can take a break when they get hot?"

Phil stopped his painting and made a noise close to, "Huh?"

Jack continued, "Well, I figured yetis must get hot because you're all covered in fur. The workshop's hot. So I figured, do you have anywhere cold you can chill out?"

Phil made what sounded to Jack incoherent as he didn't speak yeti before the hairy beast simply pointed. Jack followed his finger to a window. Outside. Outside was sounding better by the second.

"Outside?" he asked, "But aren't you guys hot all the time?"

Phil shook his head no before making a shivering motion with his arms. Jack almost wanted to laugh, "Yetis get cold?"

Phil nodded but then turned his head as if he was just noticing something. He stepped away from the toys and took a closer look at Jack. The boy bent slightly backward as he tried to step away from the yeti, but Phil simply got nearer. The hairy creature reached forward and placed his hand on Jack's forehead. Then he moved to his cheeks. Phil seemed even more confused as he said something in Yetish over his shoulder to a different gray yeti who nodded and left to retrieve something. When they can back, they handed Phil an electric thermometer. Jack recognized it from some of the neighborhood kids who had gotten sick.

Phil gestured the device towards Jack. He didn't understand. Phil noticed and searched around quickly for something before he found a can of pink paint. He pointed at the paint and then pointed at Jack. Again, the boy did not understand. Phil used his empty hand to tap Jack on the cheeks before pointing at the paint again. Jack asked, "Is there something on my face?"

Phil nodded. Jack rubbed at his face but nothing come off on his hand. Phil gestured to the pink paint again. Jack tried again, but nothing came off. Phil grunted in annoyance and asked the gray yeti for something else. They returned with a small silver hand mirror or at least small to a yeti. Jack handed his staff to Phil, trusting him to hold to it, and used both hands to hold the mirror. "Oh," he said, "Do I look pink to you?"

When Phil nodded again, Jack said, "I guess I do look a little pink. I'm just a little warm is all."

Phil hurriedly looked back at the thermometer in one of his hands and back at Jack. He offered it to him again, so Jack was finally obligated and traded the mirror for the thermometer. He studied it in his hand, "How do I use this?"

Phil shook his head, anded the mirror off to the gray yeti, and showed Jack how. When it beeped, announcing it was done, Phil took it back and read it. He spoke again to the gray yeti. Jack stood by awkwardly, his hands feeling empty without his staff. Phil must have noticed as he handed it back.

Heavy footsteps entered the room. North, in his red pants and overalls, as he had no reason to leave his casualwear, stepped in. He said in his booming voice, "Why is paint on robots slow? Are yetis taking unplanned break?"

Phil gestured to the thermometer and Jack while saying something in Yetish. North shook his head, "That is good temperature. Humans say that is perfectly normal. Is also normal for me. Rosy cheeks mean healthy, yes?"

Phil looked like he wanted to argue, but Tooth flew in as well, "North! Pitch attacked my fairies, and now he's coming here!"

North's face became battle ready. He told Phil, "Pitch is after Guardians. He's hunting down Jack. Don't let him leave."

North ran off, getting ready for another battle. Phil looked back at Jack. Jack was running his hand through his white hair. Phil panicked and rushed forward. "Hey!" Jack protested as he searched his scalp, "What gives?"

Phil plucked a hair out and presented it to Jack. He couldn't believe it. It was turning brown near the roots. He questioned, "What?"

Phil almost looked scared. Jack tried to calm him down, "Hey big guy, it's fine. It's just hair." When Phil didn't seem any less scared, Jack tried to change the subject, "So, is there anywhere cold around here that's not outside? It's a bit warm in here, and you heard Old Saint Nick. I'm not allowed outside."

Phil stood for a minute, most likely thinking of a cold place in The Workshop. Jack absentmindedly rubbed one of his temples. He was starting to get a headache. His mouth was dry again. He was half tempted to take off his hoodie and expose his old white shirt. Was he panting? When did that start? He wasn't sure. He was starting to worry. He guessed Pitch must have arrived because the workshop was looking darker…

Phil pulled himself out of his worry and returned his attention to Jack. He took note of the boy's rosy cheeks which some would even consider a healthy glow, the way the roots of his hair were the color of mud, the way he seemed to be begging for air like a dog on a hot summer day, the way he was clutching his frostless staff for dear life as if he was in pain, and the way he was rubbing his head. He was baffled. Something was wrong with the winter spirit if he was complaining about the heat. Phil even took notice of how the floor was completely dry, the windows weren't frosty even though Jack had to have passed them when entering the room, and how the air around him wasn't cold. Jack may not have noticed it himself, but he always made a room colder the moment he stepped into it. In fact, most yetis would ask North to turn up the heat when he visited. The fact that Phil wouldn't have noticed Jack at all if it wasn't for the loud elf was alarming. What was even more alarming was that Jack's brown eyes- wait weren't they supposed to be blue- were turning glossy. Phil called out to Jack, but he didn't respond.

More of Jack's hair was slowly turning brown. He looked unstable on his feet. Phill called out again, but he still didn't answer.

Jack panted, "Is it always this hot in here?"

His staff slipped from his hand. Phil lurched forward to try to grab him, but it was too late as the thin teen crumbled to the floor.