[Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians, or any of its characters]

-Prologue-

"Jack, I'm scared!"

"Hey, it-it's okay. Just look at me."

Emma Overland clamped her small hands over her ears, as if to block out the noise. How could she have been so stupid? The world bustled around her small frame as she curled in on the stiff, blue chair. This was her fault; all her fault. She should've waited for him. She should've checked the ice was safe beforehand.

"You're not going to fall. We-we're going to have a little fun instead…"

"No! We're not!"

"Yes, we are. Uh- it'll be like that time, that time with the snow machine, remember. T-that was fun, wasn't it. Would I trick you?"

"Yes! You always play tricks."

The young girl winced. If he- No! She would not go there. But if he did… one of the last things he heard would be of his sister not trusting him. She was a terrible sibling, absolutely dreadful, but here she was. Whole. Healthy. And a few doors down her older brother was struggling for his life. Her mother had long given up trying to console her. Now she sat in silence, limp in her daughter's hold. They were two porcelain dolls, glassy eyed and shivering at the prospect of life without him.

"N-not, not this time," Jack stuttered, his eyes shifting briefly to the side. "We're going to play hopscotch, l-like we do every day. It's as simple as one-"

CRACK.

The boy winced as the ice crunched beneath him, but still he continued: "Two."

This leap was better; the ice thicker. It had felt familiar beneath his bare feet. Almost safe…

"Three!"

He landed by a hooked stick. The old thing looked peculiarly like an old Shepard's staff, only the wood was twisted, parts of it flaking off.

The staff now sat on the floor by the young girls feet. She couldn't bear to leave it behind. He had touched it. His cold hands had picked it up as if it were some precious relic, and with it her big brother had saved her life. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept it close it could save his as well. This, she knew, was insane. A desperate thought for a truly desperate girl, but it was also all she had right now.

"Now it's your turn," Jack took a shuddering breath inwards and braced himself. His warm, brown eyes held a determined look as he focused on his sister. He only had one chance…

"One."

CRACK.

Deep breath, "Two."

CREAK.

Almost there, "Three!"

And with that he hooked the twisted stick around Emma's small body and pulled. The girl in question went skidding across the ice until it was smooth and firm underneath her feet. Jackson Overland let out his breath at his success.

Emma remembered that moment, just before everything had gone to hell. Their eyes had connected and although it only lasted a second, she could've sworn that hours passed. There had been such relief. She hadn't fallen in! Her brother had saved her! Neither sibling realised that in doing so he had sacrificed himself.

The cracking of ice had been louder this time; it sounded as if the whole world was ending. A flash of horror shone through their connected eyes, and then he was gone: pulled under. The lake was icily silent. The only indicator that something was terribly wrong was the jagged hole where her brother had disappeared.

A vile scream tore its way through Emma Overland's throat, "JACK!"

Thinking back on it, he must've been close by. There was no other way that the large teen could've otherwise made it. But in seconds he was there, shoving her off the lake and diving into the freezing waters after her fallen saviour. She hadn't even noticed his shaggy-looking companion.

"Hello? This is Phil St North. We need an ambulance down at Burgess lake. Somebody's fallen through the ice."

Her eyes had been glued to the ice. She wanted to look away. She couldn't look away. And then-

Nicholas St North gasped as he broke through the ice, the small body grasped tightly within his firm arms. The Russian had never moved so fast in his life; he just hoped that he was fast enough…

Emma was still in shock from how pale her brother was. His skin was almost turning blue, his lips a sullen grey. He looked- she didn't want to say it, but he looked dead.

"Jack!" She screeched, rushing over to him.

Nicholas had pulled him over to the side of the lake and was thumping on Jack's chest. Emma was horrified, was he…? Loud sirens could now be hears approaching, and the small girl prayed to the heavens: get here soon. Then there was water being spat up from the boy's grey lips. So much water, but still he did not stir. She could hear people running towards them now.

"Jack…" She muttered, hand grazing his cheek.

Emma flinched at the memory. He had been so cold. It wasn't natural for anybody to be that cold. Not even a corpse. But her brother was not a corpse, at least not yet. Instead he was rushed to hospital with severe hypothermia and possible brain damage. That was all she knew. That was all anybody knew.

Nicholas had been taken away too. He was now sat across from her draped in a foil blanket and a bobble hat, Phil by his side. He was extremely lucky, they had been told, not to have got hypothermia as well. Emma wanted to go over. To thank him for saving her brother. But she couldn't. Not when there Jack was still fighting. Not when he could die at any given moment. She shivered. The large Russian looked up and his warm, blue eyes met her brown ones. Thank you, she wanted to say, thank you for trying. A sad smile graced his lips and he nodded, understanding.

"Mrs Overland?" A cautious voice asked.

Four heads snapped up and towards the unsuspecting doctor. Janet Overland squeezed her daughter's hand - a lifeline - before shakily standing up.

"Yes," She coughed, "Yes, that's me. How-how is…?"

The doctor gestured for her to the side where they could talk more privately, and Mrs Overland followed. The rest watched, gauging results from her mother's reactions: a tearful smile; a pained gasp; silent sobs and a nod of the head; another pathetic smile. Emma's heart dropped. No! This wasn't fair! He couldn't be-

"He's not dead."

The voice knocked her from her shock.

"What?!" Emma shrieked.

Her mother sighed, wrapping her arm around her daughter's shoulder, and repeated: "He's not dead. At least, not yet."

A loud ringing was filling the room. Emma could hardly hear her mother's words above the loud sound.

"He's- they-" Janet Overland took a deep breath in, "Jack is in a coma."

The ringing only got louder.

"They don't know when, if, he'll wake up, but-" She turned to Nicholas, "Thank you. Because of you, because of what you did, he might have a chance…"

The ringing was so loud now that Emma couldn't concentrate. Coma. It filled her senses, high pitched and annoying. Coma. It was all too much.

The next thing she knew, her small body was spiralling towards the ground.