The rising sun spills between the mountainsides, coating the valleys in honey-syrup gold. A chilled breeze whispers past the ice-capped peaks and slips between thrown open windows. It kisses the cheeks of a sleeping boy. He stirs, eyes fluttering open.

Jack wakes to freshly laundered sheets and goose down pillows. Someone has the good sense not to bury him in blankets. A snowflake flits in, caught by the wayward wind, and lands on his nose. He puffs out a breath and sends it flying back up. A laugh rattles out his throat.

Faintly, he hears the muffled noises of tiny hammers and busy drills. The yetis grunt and growl, their frantic footsteps shuffling back and forth. It sounds like the workshop is back in business. But something's missing. Jack frowns, scrunching up his face. He can't hear any sign of North.

Sitting up, his limbs ache in protest. It feels like he had been on the business end of Sandy's whip. He groans, stretching his muscles. Spying his staff propped against the corner, he grabs it and prepares to leave, only to freeze in place. North sits at his bedside comfortably planted in a creaking rocking chair. His head is tilted forward, tell tale snores rumbling pass his lips.

"Has he been sitting there this whole time?" Jack wonders out loud.

"Got it in one, Frostbite."

Jack starts, looking up. "Bunny!"

Bunnymund smirks, leaning against the door frame. He's swaddled in quilts and duvets. His nose shines a holly berry red and heavy bags droop from his eyes. He attempts an air of nonchalance only to collapse in a sneezing fit.

"You look awful." Jack blurts out.

"Bet I still look better than you." Bunnymund snorts, hopping closer. "How ya' feelin' kid?"

"Alright."

"Good. You gave us a right and proper scare there. Pitch woulda been proud."

Jack winces. "Sorry."

"Weren't yer fault. It's all thanks to this genius." Bunnymund nods over at North.

Jack peers at their sleeping leader, noting the bandages wrapped around each finger. "Was he... Was he waiting for me to wake up?"

"'Course he was. The poor bloke near pissed himself worryin' about ya. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't sleep. He didn't dare leave yer side."

Jack swallows, eyes widening. He bows his head, wetting his lips and letting out a deep, shaky breath.

"How long was I out?" He manages to ask.

"A couple of nights."

Jack's head shoots up. "A couple of what?"

"Well, I mean, it took us awhile to get you out of that ice. North had to call in two teams of yetis just to cut you out of the pond. I'm telling you, Jackie, when you freeze things, you freeze them good. That ice was solid as the thickest cinderblock. Crickey."

"Wait, wait, wait! Back up for a minute!" Jack holds up a hand. "Are you telling me I froze myself?"

"You mean to say, you don't remember."

"Uh, no... Not really? I just know I was - I was drowning. Then, nothing."

"Drowning, huh? Figured as much." Bunnymund frowns, rubbing the nape of his neck. "I mean, you don't just go freezin' yerself for kicks and laughs. Do you?"

"Didn't even know I could." Jack shrugs.

Bunnymund shakes his head. "Yeah well, you can and bloody well too. We had to haul that big block of ice into the workshop and chip it away, piece by sodding piece."

Jack blinks. His mouth curls in confusion. There's something he's forgotten. Bunnymund left something out, some tiny detail. He just can't put his fingers on it. He shifts uneasily, plucking at his sleeves. Realization dawns with the fury of a lightning bolt.

"Um, Buns..." Jack begins. "When I froze myself, that was after we left the, uh, the banya, right?"

"Yeah, it was. North's bright idea. Something about cooling off?"

"Did I have any clothes on?"

Now Bunnymund blinks. Comprehension solidifies into a smirk. "Nope. Nude as the day you were born."

"So you're telling me, I was on display, in the workshop, for everyone to see, naked?"

"Yep."

"Stop laughing."

"I ain't laughing, mate."

"You are too! I can see it in your eyes!"

"I can't help it! You humans and yer weird hang ups with clothes. You do know only you, North, and the elves wear clothes, right? Even the yetis bare it all."

"Oh man, don't remind me." Jack flops back in bed.

Bunnymund snickers, taking a seat beside him. "Everyone saw you, Jackie boy. I mean, everyone. Once Tooth and Sandy learned, they came a rushin' over."

Jack whips his head around, staring horrified at the Pookah. "How did they find out? Did you tell them? You told them, didn't you!"

"Settle down, Frostbite. I never left yer little ice cube. I wore my paws to nubs chippin' you out. Didn't got time to tell."

Jack's breath catches in his throat. "Did you really?"

"Ya know, you can stand to sound less surprised."

Jack barks out a laugh. It's a forced, broken sound, like cracking ice. "Sorry, I can't help it. I'm still getting used to, you know, being cared for."

Bunnymund flinches and lowers his gaze. "There ain't no hurry, Frostbite. Take all the time you need. We're not goin' anywhere."

"I know. You remind me every day, every morning and every night. I know." Jack grins then, a shy little smile.

There's an untold story there. It's hidden in the curl of his lips. He'll tell it when he's good and ready to. Until then, Bunnymund can simply wait. He's not too worried. After all, snow melts.

For now, he huffs, feigning annoyance as he ruffles the sprite's hair. "Brat."

"Quit it!" Jack protests. He pushes away the paw only to notice the bandages wrapped around the tip. He looks to the other paw and finds it bandaged too. His pulse stutters.

Bunnymund doubles over, sneezing up a storm. He draws his covers tighter around him.

"Bun, did you get any rest?" Jack whispers hoarsely.

"I got a wink of shut eye, sure."

"Liar." He deadpans, prodding the bags beneath the Pookah's eyes.

"Oi, stop that." Bunnymund coughs out. He's shivering to pieces.

"You want me to get you anything?" Jack leaps to his feet, distancing himself from the Spring spirit.

But Bunnymund pulls him back down, curling up beside him. "Now don't go jumping around like that. Yer makin' me dizzy just lookin' at ya. Park yer frosty butt, you still look a mite pale."

"I'm always pale."

"Not the point."

Jack rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm only gonna keep you cold."

"I got blankets. Five of them."

Jack wants to say it's not enough. He'll get sicker. He'll freeze. Then Bunnymund presses closer to him and his retort dies on his tongue. He chuckles, pulling up his knees and curling into a ball. A hush falls upon them, a half-second silence when all the world stands still.

Jack watches North, slumbering undisturbed before him. He looks older than ever, exhaustion creases his brow, his lips, and the corners of his eyes. Beside Jack, Bunnymund starts to snore. He sneezes every now and again, accompanied by a wet cough. And Jack thinks of all the hours spent pulling him from the pond and out of the ice. He thinks of fingers, paws rubbed red and raw. He thinks of midnight vigils, waiting by his bedside. And he thinks, wow. That's really something.

A warm, fluttery feeling sweeps across his chest, fragile as the wings of a butterfly and just as tiny. It shatters him. And neatly, quietly, he falls apart.

His eyes drift shut.

Later, North will apologize. Later, Jack will forgive him. Later, Tooth and Sandy will ambush him with hugs. Later, Bunnymund will laugh as he squirms in their embrace. But that's later, because there is a later, because there is a next year and the years here after.

Right now, Jack lays his head on Bunnymund's shoulder. He tucks his staff against the crook of his arm. He sighs. Right now, Jack Frost is home.