So, Singer and I went to see ROTG tonight, and holy crap did we ever get swamped by plot bunnies.

Warning: There is a lot of angst and hurt in this fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.

Summary: He had always been alone, always taken care of himself. Why would anything change now?

o-o-o-o

He was still grasping at the faint tendrils of light that wavered above him, his vision darkening at the edges as he tried to make it back up to where he could breathe, where he knew he would be safe.

But he felt as though the weight of a thousand stones was weighing him down, and with a sudden shiver of horror realized that he was dying. He felt his eyes widen, felt the frigid fingers grasping at his body and pulling him deeper with empty promises and soothing murmurs.

His struggles grew weaker, and he tried to breathe in, only to find cold surging into his mouth and lungs, making him choke on the icy taste that it brought with it. The spots at the edges of his eyes expanded, and suddenly he was staring at the moon, its pearl hue glimmering above him, taunting him as he drowned in its light.

o-o-o-o

It was the same dream. The same nightmare that had been plaguing his thoughts for the last two years. He could never shake that feeling of utter helplessness as he felt himself dying, even if it was a dream.

I have got to find something better to dream about.

Jack shifted on the bare tree branch that he had designated as his perch for the night, his breathing slow but his heart still thrumming in his chest. Inhaling the cool air that always seemed to surround him, he was filled with calm, and managed to relax his stiffened muscles.

It was still night, the stars above glittering gently, and he ran a pale hand through his snowy hair before shifting the staff laying across his lap so he could stand.

His bare feet easily found holds in the slippery bark, and his frost blue eyes surveyed the surrounding forest that provided him a comforting shelter. For a moment, he considered seeing if Sandman was still around, but decided against it as the wind brushed against him like an anxious cat.

The familiar thrum of joy filled his heart as he leapt from the branch, trusting the wind to carry and guide him safely to wherever it desired. He had a strong affinity with the wind, and he trusted it with his life.

He soared above the town, over snow covered buildings and trees, finally settling on a telephone wire, his staff tapping against the lines lightly and spreading the ever present frost onto its surface. Scanning the surrounding streets, he finally allowed himself to lighten his steps and momentarily grin mischievously. However, the smile faded as ghostly images danced behind his eyelids, reminding him the reason he was out in the first place.

Jack knew that this wasn't normal. But he wasn't about to go off and start telling the other Guardians about his nightmares. They would try to 'help' him. He didn't need their help, nor did he want it. He'd been fine on his own for the last three hundred years.

Why would something like that change now?

Even when he ran into Sandman, he was wary, unused to the contact. He'd always been alone, no one believing in him, always filled with emptiness and hopelessness. He had suffered the one thing that every other Guardian feared, and he had done it for hundreds of years. After Pitch had begun his attack against them, each of the Guardians learned very quickly what it was like to not be believed in. But the only Guardian who had been affected the most heavily had to have been Bunnymund.

That Easter had been terrifying for him. He'd been right there, as Jack had been, and had been completely isolated from the children. They had walked through him, as if he hadn't even been there.

And Jack knew that Bunny was never going to forget how that had felt.

He and Jack had reached an understanding of sorts because of it. Sure, Jack was still one of Bunny's least favorite Guardians, but he now understood why Jack was so withdrawn and sarcastic. He also understood why he became so defensive whenever someone made a comment about not being believed in.

Frowning, Jack shook his head. No, he was not about to go to the Guardians. Tooth would start prying his jaw open to take a good look at his teeth, and North would corner him and then proceed to attempt to get information from him. Yeah, he was not about to go through that again.

Hearing a sudden crack of something behind him, he whirled, his staff automatically readied to attack. His frozen gaze narrowed, darting around warily before he turned daintily on his heel, continuing along the telephone line.

"Well, nice to see you're still as jumpy as eva." a rough Australian voice commented, nearly making Jack shoot off a blast of ice.

"I have every right to be, Kangaroo." he replied lightly, twirling his staff before lightly descending from the line, his bare feet barely making a sound as they made contact with the snowy ground. "Besides, last time I was out in the middle of the night, you stuffed me into a sack and threw me through a magical portal."

"And if Ah recall correctly, tha' was North's idea." Bunnymund shrugged, toying with his boomerang lightly as he leaned against a building. "Not mine."

"Ah, but you were involved." Jack grinned, sticking his staff upright into the ground and perching on it gracefully. "So, what brings you around here? Isn't it a little frosty here for you?"

Bunny shrugged, sliding the boomerang back into the pouch slung around his back. "There's not a lot to do when Easter only comes once a year."

"And?" Jack prodded, raising a dark brow. "Don't tell me you came all this way just to have a little chat."

"Maybe Ah did." the Pooka challenged. "Want ta make somethin' of it?"

Jack forced an innocent expression onto his face, spreading his hands. "Now why would I do such a thing? I'm simply out enjoying the cool night breeze."

Bunnymund gave him a look that was clearly not buying his excuse. Sighing, Jack leapt down from his staff, tapping it idly against the ground. "Why did you come looking for me?"

"North's worried. Again." Bunny rolled his eyes.

Jack found himself smirking. "Worried about poor little Jack Frost being an annoyance again?" he drawled sarcastically. "Really. Isn't it my job to be an annoyance to the world? I bring the snow and the cold and the frost, and all people see it as is an inconvenience."

Bunnymund took a closer look at the Winter Spirit, only then noticing the almost blue bags under his eyes, the resigned way he was holding himself, regardless of how he was trying to cover it up. He was looking thinner, too, as if he hadn't been keeping himself healthy. He was tempted to inquire into it, but held himself back. It would be highly unlikely for Jack to even admit that he wasn't feeling well, let alone tell him why.

"Ah wouldn't quite say that." Bunny said casually. "You were quite good at takin' down Pitch."

Jack snorted, half turning away from the Pooka. "Yeah. My three days of fame." he rolled his eyes. "And yet, only seven of them believe."

Bunnymund frowned, about to protest, when he realized that the Winter Spirit wasn't lying. After saving all of the Guardians and the children, there were precious few that actually knew that Jack Frost existed too.

"Now, if you'll excuse me." Jack bowed mockingly before leaping up, the wind immediately sweeping him high into the sky.

Bunnymund couldn't do anything other than to watch the white haired Guardian disappear from sight, absorbing his words.

"That went well." he said sarcastically to himself before tapping his foot and creating one of his tunnels. Leaping inside, it sealed itself, a bright flower blooming where the tunnel had appeared.

He had an appointment with North.

o-o-o-o

Jack knew he was still bitter about the entire 'still not believed in' situation he found himself in. He also knew that he really shouldn't be taking it out on the other Guardians. After all, it wasn't their fault that he was alone.

Taking in a deep breath, he slumped against the wind's gentle current, looking up at the moon.

"I thought that becoming a Guardian would mean that people would believe in me." he whispered.

Ever since he had been born into the life of Jack Frost, all he'd ever wanted was for someone to believe in him. He'd been so isolated, so alone, that he had begun to go mad. He'd lost himself to the frost and cold that lived inside of him, barely living.

He'd only ever met one child that had believed, many years ago. She had been a slight thing, frail as a rose being swallowed up by the frost that he was so aptly named for.

Desperately, he'd gotten close to her, needing to be touched, needing communication with someone, needing relief from his isolation.

And she had given it to him completely.

But it hadn't been long before she grew older, touched by the worn hands of time. Eventually, she forgot about him, forgot about everything, and died.

Since then, he had never opened his heart to anyone, never trusted anyone enough that they would stay. He'd learned to never let anyone get close to him, in order to avoid seeing them pass right through him, which tore his heart ever more.

"Take me home, wind." Jack asked softly, feeling the currents he was riding on turn gently.

He was still wary of the other Guardians. How did he know that they wouldn't abandon him, as they had when he'd retrieved his memories from Pitch? He was the outsider in their group.

"Why did you bring me back?" he asked uselessly, knowing the moon would never answer. "Why bring me back only to have me suffer more than I ever had before?"

But of course, the Man in the Moon didn't reply. He hadn't really though that he would, but there was still a flickering hope somewhere deep within him that was still fighting to stay alive. One that whispered, Have hope. Don't give up yet. There's always next time.

Jack grit his teeth, turning away from the moon.

Maybe there wouldn't be a next time.