Okay... so hi! English isn't exactly my first language and this is my first english fanfiction so I'm sorry about eventual errors and such, but I tried my best! Feel free to report my imprecision as long as you're constructive! I don't take offense very well, if you don't like don't read!

Well, about the fanfic, I hope you'll be interested in it because if you are you should tell me, so I'll continue it for you guys!

Warnings: Child abuse, language

Disclaimer: I do not own The Rise of the Guardians or Frozen or Rapunzel

Read and review!

I feel cold. My chapped lips are almost purple and my skin is so white. It's like I'm dead.

The heater is broken, again. I distantly hear my father pounding the damn thing with a fist or something, and cursing the hell out of it.

A tremble, I sigh and put up a smile.«It's okay, Emma. Just get ready for school.»

My little sister and I were in the kitchen, eating breakfast chatting about our day and trying to not think about the freezing weather permeating our bones, when the old man started bustle about the apartment. Just another morning in the Frost household.

«But, Jack-» And I know what she's about to say, because she's glancing at the other room where our father is doing god-knows-what, but I interrupt her anyway.

«No buts sis...» I get up tickling her a little causing her to giggle. «Go to your room and get your things or I might end up stealing your gloves and scarf and hat...»

I start going towards her room, smirking as I watch her hastily jumping up from the stool, nearly knocking it down. «No, no, no! Jack, come on, don't!»

«...I'll watch you freeze in the snow, you little runt!» She laughs at my failing attempts to tackle her, and I cackle wickedly gaining more amused squeals from her.

Emma is 10 next week, I don't know what but we sure as hell will be doing something fun at her birthday. I've taken care of her for years by now and she seems content with it. Not that she has this much of a choice, but, I mean, in her place I would put up a lot more trouble. Instead she is so smiling, carefree and full of wonder despite everything, that I can't help but smile with her and feeling it. And it me makes me a little happier to think that maybe she is like this because of me.

I feel so guilty when I bubble up in my own angst, she doesn't deserve another unhappy face in her life. So I always try to engage her in little games, in order to distract her from our reality. A reality which comes always with a force striking upon us. Just like that.

Like the door hitting the wall. «Will you two shut up already?!»

And the silence falls upon us again, like a thick blanket as heavy as a ton of brick. It will crash me. «Jackson, come here.» It will shatter me.

With a fake smile I motion at my sister for her room. «Hurry up or you're going to be late sis.»

I see her debating internally of letting go or argue with me, her eyes shifting. After a moment she seems to sense the not too danger air in the room and nods going in her room.

I finally set my eyes on my father. He hasn't the kind of appearance you'd expect from a desperate alcoholic like him. He has those ice-blue eyes just like mine, and a mop of trim brown hair I would have if I wasn't half-albino or something like that.

I have some memories, more like flashes, where father isn't so much of a mess. Sometimes I think they're dreams but I knowthey aren't. Something changed him, but I can't feel sorry for him. I'm not able to. I'm too preoccupied in feeling sorry for myself at the moment to pity someone that brought his and my own destruction upon ourselves. «Here.»

While I follow him in the other room I can't help but be afraid. He has this blank expression void of any emotion, he is so calm I don't feel like I'm walking straight in my own grave, but I know better. Every time we have some kind of visit from really anyone, he puts up this warm and smiling facade, it makes me wanna puke or scream or faint or anything really. But I do nothing. I do nothing. I can't.

When I see the heater I understand what's coming and my step falters. «Um... I don't think-»

«Here Jack, now fix it. I have others things to do.» Or rather "I can't fix it for shit, you do it". He shoves in my hand a random wrench, and I know if I don't do anything now he will close me in here again. Again.

He's already at the door. «Hey! Wait, wait dad!» The last word burns my mouth and brain, but he stops thankfully. «Listen, I can't do it now. I have to go to school, and Emma too! I have to take her. I can't do this now.»

He steps slowly toward me and I refrain myself from backing. His shoes hitting the floor resound in my head. We're so close now, I can smell the stench of vomit and alcohol radiating off of him and try to stop my nose from curling. «Oh yes you can, you dumbass! Or are you really that idiot you can't even do a little thing like this?»

His breath smells even worse and I dread his little spits hitting me. The anger now is clear on his face and I'm terrified because I know what will be the outcome of this, but I fight the lump in my throat with all I have. «I can't fix it now.»

«What?» He's rising his voice.

I feel cold...«I can't-»

«Are you even deaf now? Didn't you hear what I've just said to you?!» He's flaring his nostrils.

And I know it's useless by now, but «I CAN'T fix it!»

«Shut up. SHUT UP!» He shouts grabbing my shoulder, by the time I try to react he's already slammed me against the heater.

«And NOW you moron stay here until I say so. And fix. This. Damn. Thing! Did you hear me this time?!» He's still shouting but I feel nothing. I distantly wonder who will take Emma to school... If she heard all of this, what is she thinking?

Next thing I know I hear slam of the door closing shut and I'm sitting on the ground. The sound of the lock being turned echoes a little in the nearly empty room and I feel something warm and thick sliding on my eyebrow.

The ground it's cold, but I'm frozen. I can't even wrap my arms around myself.

After a minute or so I manage to get myself up moaning. My head is pounding and I don't hear anything else -anything, please-, but I pick the wrench up anyway. I take a look at the heater tempted -oh so tempted- to just smash it with the the tool in my hand. It's broken anyway, what's the difference if I make it in a million pieces?

But I don't -don't don't-, and I put myself at work. I know Emma need it, so I need it too.

Because I can't leave her. For nothing at all.

«Anna, Stop.»

A snort. «Oh, come on Elsa!»

I roll my eyes. I'm trying to help our guardians, Flynn and Rapunzel, by bringing boxes in our new home in Burgess, Pennsylvania. We just moved from my old parent's house searching for a bigger one, being Rapunzel pregnant by six month. She is so radiant, and Flynn is just trying to hide all of his happiness, in fear of alimenting an already overexcited wife.

«And I need... this too!» Anna is picking random things from the box I'm trying to put inside, but it's a little hard with her stopping me every few seconds.

With a desperate huff I say: «You know what?» I put the box in her arms, she squealed as this caused her to fail the grasp around the things she had in hand. «You take this one inside.»

«Aw, you're no fun» She says with a pout but going inside anyway. I smile at her antics, even though she says that to me nearly everyday by now, I take no offense in that. She is right.

Ever since she was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect at age of 5, which our mum suffered through too, I suddenly stopped playing with her.

That day we were playing in the snow, we were having so much fun we started sweating even though we were surrounded by snow and ice. I remember Anna suddenly collapsing, right after I threw a snow ball at her head. I was little too, so I was so scared of having hurt her myself. I immediately started crying and calling for our parents.

We brought her at the hospital were she was diagnosed the disease and put on a list for a heart transplant. On the way home mum and dad tried to calm me down and explained to me that Anna couldn't play tiring games with me anymore, that I had to be careful and control she didn't ever overexert herself.

Needless to say I didn't take this too kindly on my self. I excluded Anna and at the same time tried to remove every risk for her health.

She doesn't understand my behavior, our parents never had the heart to tell her about her illness at such a young age, and when they died the responsibility fell upon me. But between mine and her grief to soothe, I've never really found the right moment, or simply the right amount of courage to spill the truth. It's like during this years a growing layer of frost built between us, and I can't help but feel cold deep inside. I'm frozen but I can't freeze her too. I fear reaching out to her.

«Rapunzel wa-wait! No don't!» I snap out of my thoughts, turning toward our actual guardians.

«C'mon Flynn, it's just a freaking vase! Even the baby would be able to lift, and she isn't born!» Rapunzel and Flynn are bickering again, this time it seems like she is bringing inside an actually very large vase with all the soil and the plant in it while he's trying to make her reason, with obviously no avail. Taking something else from the truck we've booked for the move I watch them and smile a little. «It's a freaking huge vase! The baby, wouldn't be able to lift it because it would be a lot bigger than him!»

«Oh that's it!» Rapunzel nearly hurl the vase down, making me wonder about his "difficulties". «Why are you so sure about the baby being a boy?! It's clearly a girl!»

«Oh, well! Maybe I would be assured about it, if someone wasn't so set on discovering the sex at the birth!»

She puffed her cheek. «You...»

I drown them out snorting. «Here we go again.»

«What?» Anna ask coming toward me, and picking an other box on her own.

«Oh, nothing. They're arguing about the baby's sex again.» I smile kindly seeing her giggle.

«I think they're so funny! They're perfect together don't you think?» We put down our respective boxes in the hall of the new house. She wipe her brow with her sleeve sighing. The worry swallow me whole again. My heart shrink in its gushing cold wind.

I frown. «Anna I think you should sit on the couch a little. Rest for a while, huh?»

She frowns too. «What? Why?»

«Well it's really cold out there, and you've been unloading the truck till now, I think it's enough...» I trail off and I know. I know I can't fool her anymore. She's twelve, she won't be a child anymore... But it's too hard. I can't.

Here it is! Please review, I want to know you opinion on it before going on with the story.

See you soon!