Reviews:

Guest: *smiles in denial with you* :)

Demi Clayton: it's supposed to be that way - it's just like another way of saying 'that wasn't where his head was at right now' (but I put 'at the moment' instead), hence the double at. Thank you though, tips and suggestions are always appreciated :)

Chapter 12: All those years ago

What is stronger

than the human heart

which shatters over and over

and still lives

~Rupi Kaur

Spring - 1984

It was quick for him: he didn't even realise that anything had happened. The only change was the feeling of a great weight being lifted off his chest, as if he could finally breathe without constraint. He didn't need them: he was better off without them. They were dangerous, deceitful and could tear you down in an instant. They were probably the most savage things in this world - the fake mask they wore enchanted you, enticed you to believe that you couldn't live without them. It was funny, how they never showed you their true colours; the face under the mask. The ugly, vile truth of what lay behind.

Yes, he thought again, he was better off without them. All they'd ever done was feed him lies and cause him pain, which could have been so easily avoided. Well, now he was taking matters into his own hands, finally going solo, and it was the best thing he'd ever done.

And so, living for the now - not the possible futures that he would never get, not the tempting fantasies that lulled him into a false sense of security (that would surely never come true) - he set off, flying in the wind's comforting grasp. Forgetting all about his doubts and worries, he flew like he had never flown before, full of joy and excitement, full of his new-found passion for life. For surely, in his freedom, he'd never known happiness like this before.

Bunny was the first to feel it - it was though someone had just sucked the life out of him. He knew instantly what it was, but who? And why? This was the greatest fluctuation he had ever felt and, Moon, it hurt like hell. As though he was unable to move, unable to speak, unable to reach out to anyone for help and all he could do was watch as his world came crashing down into pieces around him. Everyone and everything he'd ever loved: gone, just like that. Along with his heart, which had been so cruelly ripped out and cut up in front of him.

In all the debris, all the horror, he was the only one that remained, nothing but vast expanses of ruin surrounding him. Just like the past repeating itself in a vicious cycle, as though to torment him even further. That's how bad it hurt.

He couldn't stand it, the throbbing in his head, the aching in his joints, the feeling of a thousand knives embedded into his body, it was too much to bear. Sinking down to his knees, all of his energy dissipated and all he could do was wait for the torment to be over.

North was busy checking over toy manufacturing when the first wave came crashing over him, sending an agonising ripple up his spine and into his head. He collapsed instantly, leaning on a yeti for support, sucking in large, deep gulps of air, trying to calm his laboured breathing. He'd never felt anything like this before (and he hoped he'd never experience anything like it again) and wondered what in the world could cause this amount of pain. Or, more specifically, who.

His thoughts were cut short as a second wave, even more vicious than the first, rammed down onto him, forcing him to the floor. The yetis and elves crowded around him, full of concern for their beloved leader, each desperately trying to help - bringing ice packs, pillows, drinks and even cookies. But nothing worked, and as seconds turned to minutes turned to hours, all they could do was watch.

And then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. North stood up, straightened himself out and walked away, as if nothing had ever happened

Still, it didn't escape any of the yeti's notice how his eyes had paled more than a singular shade. Once a bright, vivid blue, now a dull, dark grey, they looked like the life had been sucked out of them.

Tooth was next. The overwhelming sensation she was confronted with mid flight was nowhere near as bad as what her colleagues were enduring, but it was certainly enough to knock the breath from her lungs and make her wings falter, which would have been disastrous if her little fairies weren't there to help her.

In a few minutes, she had righted herself and was on track once again, but the uneasiness never left her. She could feel it for the whole of the rest of her journey, the rest of the day and for the remainder of the week. In fact, the uneasiness would never leave her, sticking to her like a leech, sucking out all of her doubts and fears, leaving one question burning forever in the back of her mind.

What had they done wrong?

But then again, it didn't matter, because she would forget. She wouldn't remember anything that happened, as though there was a vacuum in her brain sucking every memory out of her. No matter how hard she tried to hold on, they would always slip through her fingers. And then they would vanish, and she would wonder what she was doing. And she would continue with her job, because that was all she knew.

Sandy faltered: something was wrong. Very wrong. Time around him seemed to stop as he took in his surroundings, checking for any signs of danger or threat. There was nothing, and yet he could feel it, about to pounce on him. It: sly, dangerous, misleading. It: about to make all of his hopes and dreams come hurtling down.

Spotting no visible cause for alarm, Sandy continued, only to be stopped almost instantaneously by some invisible force holding him back, dragging him down. He felt it now, even stronger than before. Then he felt it's true capabilities, slamming into him full speed.

It was as if his own mind was attacking him, sucking out all the joy he had ever experienced. It was though he had completely forgotten what happiness was in a mere matter of seconds. His mind burned him, scorching him from the inside out, making him void of all emotion, good or bad, leaving him an empty pit, incapable of feeling anything.

And then, he continued, not knowing what he was missing, forgetting the torture from only moments ago. He continued giving dreams to the children, watching them laugh and smile and play. And he wondered, as he floated above them on his cloud made of golden sand, why he didn't feel like that. How could he give such emotion and not feel any? But then again, it didn't matter, did it? He'd never felt anything before. He didn't know what it was like to be happy, to be sad, to be angry or hurt or scared. He only felt numb. And that was normal, so that was okay.

Still, he continued, a small hole constantly in his chest, no idea what he had lost.

Pitch howled in anger. Unlike the others, he did not feel pain, nor did he feel numb. He felt weak, felt the energy and the power leaving him as he fell to the floor, unable to stand up. Such a large source, gone. How had he managed to do it? No one lived without fear! There was always terror, would always be terror. No one could live without it, no one could escape its grasp.

And yet, one had, completely banishing all thought of it from his life. It didn't burden him any longer; he was free. And what was there to be afraid of anymore? Nothing. He could do what he liked without consequence, without having to live in the dark. For fear of the unknown, fear of failure, of losing, of lost promises and of falling, they didn't exist to him anymore. His life was simple, and he was content.

And for that, Pitch howled even louder, furious at the one who had slipped through his fingers.

Since then, the Guardian of Hope had not been hopeful, the Guardian of Wonder did not wonder, the Guardian of Memories did not remember and the Guardian of happy dreams did not feel emotion.

It would not be until years later that they found the source of their distress. Spring, 2012, when a new threat arose. A threat in the form of Pitch Black, the Boogeyman. Sick and tired of not being feared, of not having power, of being an outcast, he would try to overthrow them, to take their glory.

And the Man in Moon, ever helpful as he was, would suggest a new Guardian who would fight alongside them and help to defeat this awful threat.

They would search far and wide for this one special spirit - for they had to be special for the almighty Man in Moon to choose them, and eventually, they would find him. Playing with children, giving them joy, a large smile on his face, as though he didn't have a care in the world.

And they would approach him, their heads set on recruiting him into their 'team', thinking he would be perfect to use to defeat the threat.

And as he got closer, they would begin to feel again, though only for a fraction of a section.

For he would walk straight through them, as he didn't believe. Because why should he be able to see the Tooth Fairy if he had no memories? How could he see Easter Bunny if he had no hope? He didn't dream and he didn't wonder, so, to him, the Guardians didn't really exist at all. And even if he could see them, how could he fight the threat when he was invisible too? For Jack Frost did not fear.

All he knew was himself, living in the now, with his friend the Wind. And he was happy with that.

So they would all watch as their weapon, their last hope, their saviour, slipped through their fingers.

Just like he had on that fateful day all those years ago.

Oof, right in the feels. As ideas do, this came to me at about ten o'clock tonight and, of course, I had to write it. Sod school and a decent sleep schedule, fanfiction is more important :)

I hope you have a lovely morning, afternoon or evening, and if it is as late as it is in my time, I'd suggest you go to sleep.