Chapter Text
Jack grinned from ear to ear as he waved goodbye to the children. After 300 years, he had children who believed in him. Saw him. And maybe a family. The wind tugged at his hair as the sleigh pulled higher and the children grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
Exhausted, he lowered his hand. It had been an exerting fight and it was going to be a long flight back. North had used the last snow globe to bring the yetis back home after the battle, before Jack was officially made guardian. Now they had to travel the long way to Santa's workshop on their own. They planned a small celebration.
But Jack wondered if he should retire. A headache had set in and now that the stress was over, it seemed to gnaw at him relentlessly.
He ran a hand over his face, anxiously. When Pitch had thrown him against the wall and he had then landed on the dustbin, he had hit his head hard. It was frightening how strong he had become since their last encounter.
His vision blurred briefly. Jack could feel the adrenaline leaving his body. First came the “rush” and now came the “crash”, as he liked to call it. It always came after a big effort, but never so hard before. The dizziness came like a punch.
The headache increased. He closed his eyes as black dots moved into his field of vision. Perhaps the fall had been enough to give him a concussion?
He didn't even notice as he tipped forward until he was pulled backwards with a tug on his hood.
Strong hands pressed him against the seat of the sledge. “It wasn't funny the first time.” hissed an angry Bunny.
Jack raised an eyebrow as he blinked and opened his eyes. “What?”
Unimpressed, Bunny pointed to the railing of the sled where Jack had been standing until a moment ago. “The I'm-falling-down-to-make-everyone-scared-even-though-I-can-fly act.”
Jack managed a small smile. “See, you do care about me.”
Bunny's expression darkened. “I just don't feel like having another funeral.” Jack looked at Bunny. He was holding onto the railing with one hand, rather tensely.
“The way you look, you could almost get yourself killed if you keep shaking like that.”
That came out harsher than Jack meant to say. He was briefly confused by his statement, but quickly put it down to his headache. In fact, he couldn't tell if Bunny was shaking or not. His vision was so blurred by now that he could only guess at Bunny's angry look. The other guardians did not intervene. Apparently they thought it was just another harmless little argument.
“I almost was because of you! After you ruined Easter!” Oh yes, Jack remembered, he hadn't had a chance to talk to the guardians about the misunderstanding. Annoyed, he rolled his eyes, which he immediately regretted. Raging pain drilled through his skull behind his eyes and his ears rang from Bunny's volume. “And now you're making fun of it too!” spat Bunny. “Do you know how much cleaning up I have to do now because of you?”
Jack groaned in exasperation. A slight anger crept over him. “It's not like you've got another year before you're needed again. Plenty of time to clean up.”
“WHAT!?” Jack didn't know Bunny's voice could get that high.
Delighted, Jack followed it up with another. “You're not like Tooth or Sandy. They're needed every night. Not you.” He straightened up from the bench, swaying slightly.
Bunny's face twisted into an angry grimace. “You little, useless...”
Jack laughed dryly. “Useless? I've got a whole season working hard on the snow. You're even less needed than a `useless' winter spirit.”
Tooth put a hand on his shoulder, but Jack shook it off. Jack knew he should stop, but he was just getting into the swing of things. “You're like an unpopular decorative item that's been forgotten in the attic. Dusted away and looked at briefly once a year so you know what's in the box again. Then put back in the last corner. Just like your stupid rabbit hole. Under the ground. Far away. Dusty.”
With one leap, Bunny came unnaturally close to him so that their noses were almost touching. “At least I have a home,” he growled.
“Me too,” Jack hissed between clenched teeth.
Bunny bared his teeth dismissively. “A frozen lake is not a home.”
“Jack, you can have rooms with me too,” North offered from further ahead. Bunny and Jack ignored him.
Angrily, Jack gripped his staff a little tighter and plunged the tip into Bunny's chest. “You don't know anything about the lake. You don't know anything about me.” It wasn't hot anger anymore. It was worse. Cold anger. The kind when you think logically again. Rational. Calculating. And all intentions focused on destroying the other instead of mastering his emotions.
The wind grew harsher and tugged at Bunny's fur. He narrowed his eyes. “I don't even wanna know anything about you!” he snapped at him and snatched the staff from Jack's hand. The wind around them immediately died down to a normal airstream. Jack's eyes glowed dangerous and he tried to reach for his staff, but Bunny held it out of reach. And then, very slowly and quietly, emphasizing every syllable, Bunny added something else. “Oh, why don't you go and drown in your stupid lake?”
Jack gasped for air. As quickly as the rage had come, it had evaporated again. “Bunny!” Tooth screeched angrily. “What's wrong with you!” She tried to reach for Jack, but he backed away from her as far as he could in the sled. She gave him the space.
Exhausted, he leaned against the railing. The headache was worse than ever.
“My staff,” he demanded and held out his hand. He wouldn't stay here a second longer than necessary. Pitch was defeated. Now they could go their separate ways again. A glance down showed him that they were over the ocean. They had come further than Jack had expected.
Bunny didn't move. “You don't want to go, do you?” Tooth asked hesitantly. Jack just held out his hand again in an overly obvious motion. He didn't have the strength to fight Bunny now, but he wouldn't back down if push came to shove.
Before Bunny could show any further reaction, the sled was shaken by a violent turbulence. Bunny clawed so hard into the sled that he left scratch marks. Tooth and Sandy also held on tightly while North cursed and grabbed the sled back into balance.
Only Jack was too slow. The turbulence hit him completely unprepared. With his arms flailing, he tried to hold on, slamming his back hard against the railing so that his vision blurred again and for a tiny moment everything went black. When he opened his eyes again, the air rushed past him. He was falling.
Fear gripped Jack's heart with icy claws as he rowed through the air. His staff was still with Bunny. He couldn't fly. “Help!” he screamed. The ocean waves raged beneath him. He could feel himself turning pale.