Full Summary:

It's been eight years since the defeat of Pitch Black at the Battle of Easter. Jack Frost is still only believed in by a select few and has his work cut out for him. Despite the low number of believers, Jack finds himself becoming exhausted from all the snow-making. But is taking a break in a mental asylum really all it's cracked up to be?

A/N: Yes. Yes, that was a pun. Deal with it. But also please read, review, and enjoy! :)

Chapter 1 - A New Game

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was never supposed to be this way. Why?

After taking Guardianship, Jack Frost was still the least believed in of the five. Just because he got the fancy title, it didn't mean that kids were going to suddenly believe in him. He had to work for that. Therefore, he had taken a liking to visiting children and trying to make them believe that he existed. Sometimes it was as simple as making it snow in their room, other times he had to improvise.

One time he had to lead a kid through his own house with an ice trail that ended at his younger brother's bookshelf. The reason being that Jack had seen the kid brother open up a book with Jack Frost in it. Granted, the book's depiction of Jack was grotesquely inaccurate and Jack was a little offended, but it worked regardless. The older boy, who was barely over eight, walked over to the book but didn't open it. Jack took the curved part of his staff and used it to flip through the pages until it landed on the picture and sentence. The boy read the name and his eyes had grown wide. He spun around the room to stop lastly on Jack, who was sitting on the boy's brother's bed.

At first, the boy had screamed, which was not what Jack had intended. The winter spirit held up his hands, leaving his staff on the bed, and knelt beside the boy. Calming the kid down, he insisted that he was Jack Frost. Of course, the boy didn't believe him, despite just a second ago bridging the gap that allowed Jack to exist in this boy's mind. So naturally, Jack conjured a snowflake into his hand and swirled it around his fingers. The fractals spun and reflected the dim light of the moon that streamed in from the open window. The boy stared at it and slowly brought his own little finger up to poke it. When they made contact, the snowflake burst, creating blue sparkles in front of the boy's eyes. His shoulders hunched and his features became excited. Soon he was jumping up and down, demanding that Jack do more. Gladly, Jack turned the entire room into an ice rink, the ice materializing under his bare feet. They skated and spun and tossed little snowballs that evaporated as soon as they hit anything that wasn't the boy or Jack. Soon, however, the boy's mother came in.

"Daniel! What are you doing in your brother's room? And why did you open the window? Look at all the frost that's collected!"

"I'm playing with Jack Frost, mom!" the boy named Daniel insisted.

His mother wouldn't have any of it. She walked past Jack, phasing right through him. The feeling never lost its desperate loneliness that was colder than even Jack. Still, the mother closed the window and reprimanded her son without any knowledge of the winter spirit. When she left the room, the boy followed to receive some kind of punishment. As soon as he left, however, he came right back in and insisted that they play some more. Jack was happy to oblige the little kid's wish. Eventually, Jack had to send the kid to bed and leave, but he promised to always be around as long as the kid believed. More often than not, he came back. He was never too busy for the children, unlike some Guardians.

But other times, the kids just wouldn't believe. No matter what Jack tried, no matter how much snow and ice he summoned, some kids refused to see him. It hurt Jack, but he had been used to it for three hundred years. He should still be unaffected, right? But Jack couldn't displace the growing feeling that he was never going to be as widely accepted as North, or Tooth, or Bunny, not even Sandy. Nothing could beat holidays and necessities like them. Jack was just a spirit that played around in the snow. What was worse, Jack was noticing technology advancing. Kids were increasingly staying inside. If they were outside, Jack saw that they held their phones close so that they were practically glued to their faces. A lot of the time he couldn't even get them to look up at the wonders he would create just for them.

It was for this reason, as many others, that he frequented Jamie's house while Jamie still believed. Unlike most believers, Jamie had held his belief unnaturally long. He was now eighteen, older than Jack had been, and still believed in them all. Of course, Jamie had been a part of the battle of Easter and was a key person in taking down Pitch Black, and as such a person it was hard to be rid of such potent memories. Jack wished for Jamie to never forget him, and to always believe, but Jack knew that even if Jamie did so, he would still grow old and die someday. It was a morbid thought, however, and Jack never dwelled on it long. Fun times were to be had while they still could.

Today, on the other hand, Jack wanted to be alone. The past week had brought multiple snow days, and of the believers he managed to build up, all of them wanted to play games with the winter spirit. For once, he was tired and desired to rest. Rather than staying at the pond in Burgess, the place that was forever his origin and home, he claimed a snow-capped mountain littered with rigorous pine trees. It was peaceful and secluded, and Jack didn't have to use much of his power because of the abundance of snow around him.

What little magic he did use was focused into making a hammock. It was difficult at first, because Jack was trying to make the ice elastic rather than rigid so that the hammock would be more real. A few tries resulted in broken shards of a cross-stitch pattern and a winter spirit's sore behind from falling several feet each time it the seat was tested. At some point in his trials, he decided to infuse the ice with thick, sticky snow. The kind of snow that was best suited for snowmen and other various sculptures was able to give and take the stress that the ice patterns couldn't. It was a flexible and it appeared to hold his weight when he propped himself onto the structure, leaving his staff stuck into the ground in case it broke and he needed to jump. His back already hurt from the previous falls and he didn't feel like adding another number to it.

Jack saw that it was working and smiled, laughing excitedly. It was the first time he'd been able to make something like this. He lay back into the hammock, letting it take his full weight. Jack pulled his staff out of the snow and settled it next to him. He put his arms behind his head and sighed with a sense of accomplishment. The wind tugged playfully at his hair, caressing him with a job well done. Thanking the wind for the compliment, he stretched out, his arms wide and his legs spread, his muscles relaxing in the process. Then Jack heard a snap, and not a second too soon he fell on his back two feet below, landing into the snow in which he'd already made thousands of impressions. He groaned more in frustration rather than pain and lay still, letting the embarrassment subside.

"Are you okay?" a small voice called out in the silence that ensued. It surprised Jack so much that he gasped, readying his staff defensively. He didn't see anything, but he had definitely heard something.

"I'm sorry," a girl stepped out from behind a nearby tree a little ways down the hill, "I didn't mean to scare you. What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Jack stood up, dropping his guard. It was just a girl. But what caught his attention was her age. She looked about the same age that he probably did.

"Don't tell them I'm here, please!" she cried. "I don't want to go back in there just yet."

"Go back where?" Wherever she came from, it couldn't have been very far. She was wearing a loose wool cardigan that didn't fit her and a gown of some sort. On her feet was a mismatched pair of threadbare slippers, her toes red and exposed, as were her ears and nose. Jack noticed her long brown hair was plaited behind her. She must be freezing. "Aren't you cold?"

"Please, please don't send me back there," she repeated, hugging herself to the tree, "they'll make me take that medicine again. I don't like what it does to me. It makes me tired and stupid. I don't want to be like the rest of them."

But Jack was confused about another component of this situation. "How are you able to see me?"

The girl's brows furrowed, unsure about the question. She still held tightly to the tree, as if she was afraid of falling. "You're right there, aren't you?"

"Do you know who I am?" Jack was suddenly hopeful.

"I'm not psychic," the girl scoffed, "and you don't look like a celebrity."

"Jack Frost?" He couldn't believe it. How could someone see him and not know who he was? "Did you ever hear stories about me? From your parents or─ or your siblings? Do you have siblings?"

The girl huffed. It was a cold laugh that never touched her eyes. "What does it matter? I'm here by myself. Just don't make me go back there." She separated from the tree and walked toward him warily. "Unless you're from there, too? I haven't seen you around. Are you from one of the lower Wards?"

"Ward─ w-what?"

"I'm from Ward 4. The highest ward. Schizophrenics and dangerous personalities, mostly. They say I'm a paranoid type. Well, one thinks I'm undifferentiated and another thinks I'm residual, but I'm pretty sure the last one said I was paranoid. It doesn't really matter because half of the people here aren't even doctors. I've never been deluded in my life! Well, unless you're not real and I'm talking to you like you are real, in which case I might just have to stay there another six months. But that's a hallucination, which goes to show I still know more than the nurses."

The girl was speaking so fast that Jack had a hard time comprehending what he was hearing. It was usually the other way around: Jack had to make someone else understand his existence. But in this moment, Jack couldn't tell if the girl standing a few feet from him was real or not, let alone whether or not she was joking.

"W-what's your name?" Jack managed to get the words to tumble out of his stunned mouth.

"Oh!" she hit her head with her hand. It seemed rather painful. "I'm sorry. The name's W4-SP-007. 'Bond' works, too."

"Your name's a number?" Jack didn't think any parent was ridiculous enough to name their child a number. He's heard names that take after single letters, seasons, states, even countries, but never numbers.

"It's my patient number, but Bond sounds cooler─ double-o-seven─ not that anyone calls me that. It's mostly just a few of the other patients. You know, like the ones still able to talk semi-coherently? Which isn't very many," the girl stepped closer and leaned in, now a foot from Jack. "You're not from a Ward, are you? Are you a nurse? Doctor? No, you don't look nearly old enough. I don't think the white hair's fooling anyone here."

"Uh, do you have a first name that I could call you by?"

That was when she gasped, covering her mouth. "You're an outsider!"

"Well, you're not wrong," Jack laughed. "Let's try this again. I'm Jack Frost, and you are?"

Bond stared at him awhile, letting out an incredulous laugh. She took a few steps, plodding around Jack, eyeing him. Her feet fell heavily into the snow whereas Jack's stayed atop the freshest layer from the night before. She stopped in front of him once again and shook her head, ignoring his question. "Sorry, I can't accept that. I go and tell my shrink that I'm seeing Jack Frost and I'm stuck here for a few more years, at least. Not that getting released would be much better."

"Do you want me to prove it?" Jack held out his staff for her to inspect. When Bond still looked apprehensive, Jack held out his other hand as an invitation. Her eyes flitted in a triangle, from Jack's face, to his staff, to his open palm. Jack observed that her eyes were two different colors: the left was blue and the right was a hazelnut color. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Jack could hear her shallow breaths contemplating his offer.

Jack had never met someone his age that could see him. The Guardians always mentioned that it was plausible if they were a strong enough believer, like Jamie. But this girl didn't even recognize the winter spirit, and Jack was tremendously intrigued. The prospect of making another friend that was his human age excited him. He didn't know why, since she could stop believing at any time, but the idea warmed up to him. Perhaps having older believers would ensure the next generations knew of him? Jack was invested in the theory, and he figured here was a good place to start. If he could keep her believing, he was confident he could get others just as old to perceive him as well. Jack just needed her to say yes.

It was just then that they heard yelling coming from farther down the hill. Into view came several men in dark green uniforms. The closest of the men was bald with a thick blond moustache, stocky and short in stature. The other man was tall and had long reddish hair, freckles dotting his pale face. The brunette girl shrieked and ran toward a nearby pine. Before she got there, however, her feet slipped on a patch of ice and she banged her shin against an upturned tree root. Hitting the ground, she scurried around the tree and tried to hide. She waved to Jack to follow her, but Jack was staring at the men in confusion. They ran straight to where the girl was cowering and tugged her to her feet by her arms. She kicked and screamed, "Jack, help me!"

"There's no one here, Seven," the redheaded man said, referring to her number.

"Let's get you back to your bed, okay?" The stocky man's voice was softer in tone, but his grip looked like iron. "You'll get some of your medicine and an appointment first thing─"

"NO!" Bond screeched. "I won't take it! It kills me! It kills me!" Struggling against the men, Jack saw that she was losing strength quickly. Her legs and arms were thin and frail and her cheeks were sallow and sickly. It looked like she hadn't been fed in days. "Jack!"

Snapping out of his stupor, Jack grabbed his staff and shot ice underneath the men's feet. They slipped forward, however, and Bond fell flat on her back. He heard all of the air being driven out of her being and winced. "Oops," he muttered as he ran over to her and held out his hand once more.

The girl sat up painfully, nearly slipping again several times before she looked up at him. "Okay, that was cool. But could you be more precise next time?"

"I'll try my best," Jack smirked.

This smile reached her eyes this time, a genuine smile that brightened her face and created lines in the corners of her eyes. She reached out for his hand and prepared to hoist her body up, but something happened and she fell backward again. Jack blinked a few times in surprise. He jumped toward her and tried to grab her to stop from falling and it happened again.

Jack's hand went right through her without any resistance.

When Bond stopped tumbling down the hill, Jack saw in her features that she was cognizant of what had occurred. Jack walked toward her again, trying to get her to go with him, but she only looked at him in fear. Without realizing they were close, the men phased through Jack's body and picked the girl up once again. The man with red hair pulled out a syringe and stabbed Bond in the side. After a moment of shock, the spark in her eyes died. This time, she didn't resist. Her feet dragged in front of her as they walked her backwards down the hill, but she did not struggle.

Jack watched until the three of them were out of sight and kicked the snow angrily. He whacked the staff against a tree and sent ice shooting up its branches. He didn't even bother to make another hammock. Instead, he sculpted a chair with the back bent so that he could lie down with his thoughts. The girl didn't believe in Jack Frost. That much must have been true for her to phase through him like that. The sudden dull pain emanated from his being, stalled because of the adrenaline rush he'd received. Being unseen was hurtful beyond recognition, but having someone walk through him was an entirely different matter. It felt like his skin was being ripped apart from the inside, but stopping just underneath the surface and creating a taut, tingling feeling. It pulled at the muscles in a metaphysical manner, and bones creaked like they were about to break. It was as if that person's atoms were pulling at his own, trying to make them part of the same thing. Ultimately, however, Jack became whole again despite the void that made itself known in his gut. Such a feeling shouldn't have come from someone that could see him, but Jack just couldn't force it to be possible in his mind.

The winter spirit went over to and sat back down where his hammock had fallen apart. Halfheartedly twirling his staff in his hands, Jack created an igloo that surrounded him. Dejection wore on him so much that he decided a nap was best. Just before he fell asleep, Jack made the decision to find the girl's room later that night in the hopes of talking to her again.

A/N: This is my second (non-one-shot) fic for Rise of the Guardians, so I hope you like it! I got the idea from my other fic that is still currently ongoing. You should really check it out! A Choice of Faults and Granting Asylum are both OC fics, but the OC is different. Same goes for my series of one-shots. The OCs are: Cinder (A Choice of Faults), Bond (Granting Asylum), and Lykos and Fenrir (The Boy Who Cried Wolf!). Don't worry, I use all of the canon characters as well (I mean, is it really a fanfic otherwise?).

The updating schedule for Granting Asylum will be every Tuesday and Friday once I've written enough chapters (I'm currently working on the next couple chapters in both fics, so it may be a week or longer until this one gets a second chapter).

Okay, okay, I'll stop talking now. Enjoy! :)