A/N: Thank you all so much for your thoughts and reviews! You've truly made my week. Without further adieu, please enjoy the conclusion.

Disclaimer: Do not own.

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The Conclusion

The sight that met Bunnymund broke his old heart near worse than when the kids stopped believing in him only yesterday. Jack was almost impossibly small in his arms, curled up in his fur like a pup trying to hide from a nightmare. A whimper escaped the boy as a shudder rippled through his bones. His bright eyes were fogged with confused as they darted about, squinting under raised brows at every jolt inside.

"Shh, shh, it's a'right, Snowflake…" Bunny cooed, trying to pull the kid back to him. Carefully, he sat on the icy bed (blimely it was cold enough to freeze off his fluffy cottontail) and ran a gently hand over Jack's hair. "Ya' got'ta tell me what 'appened."

Slowly, painfully, Jack seemed to come around. He blinked once, twice; each time the fog lifted just a little. Then, suddenly, he was aware of something soft, warm, and—cringing violently, Jack's back arched against the agony of sighing.

"Easy, easy!" Bunnymund tried desperately, shifting so he could lay the young Guardian on the bed. But the kid wouldn't hear of it. Even with his body cooling on the winter mattress of shaved ice, his hand remained steadfastly entwined with the fur of the Rabbit's paw. Bunny held it tightly, letting Jack express himself as far as he needed until the spasm past.

After an eternity of bated breath, Jack seemed to be able to catch his voice again. With more caution this time, the winter sprite opened his eyes and locked onto Bunny. "B-bunny…wha'?"

It hit Bunnymund that Jack had no idea where he was. He may not even know how he got there. "It's okay, kid…yer' in my Warren. The Winds brought ya' here…" Bunny tried to relax a little, if not for his sake, then for Jack's. "Got'ta say, I never thought I'd see tha' day when they worked together like that."

Jack smiled, though it seemed a horrid representation with cracks of blood dyeing pale lips. "They're m-my friends. I couldn't…I couldn't fly," he admitted lowly, seeming ashamed. Again wrapping a trembling hand around his ribs, he let out a puff of air that felt to Bunny to be somewhere between disgust and fear. "I-I think something's broken inside."

The quiet admission nearly made Bunny smile. "What made ya' think that, ya' dill?" then, gentler, the Pooka ran a nervous paw over an ear. "Did somethin' 'appen to ya'?"

When Jack shrugged and lifted a hand to wipe at the stream from his lips that refused to freeze, Bunny wasn't sure if he should be worried or relieved. "Na…'s from Pitch."

Bunnymund's eyes went wide. They had missed something. "You didn't say anythin'."

Jack's gaze fell down, his fingers absently playing with the hem of his hoodie (he'd wiped the blood there, not wanting to stain the bed). "I didn't realize it…'till I tried riding the wind," he could tell Bunny didn't believe him without even looking up. "Really…I just thought…'was sore…"

Bunny could see the boy getting weaker with every passing breath. Broken ribs for sure, he thought; the bleeding seemed to come from a split inside the kid's mouth. "Alright, ya' snowflake, this's gon'na hurt'a bit, but we got'ta get them ribs wrapped."

To say the Guardian of Fun looked like a kid grounded for a month would be an understatement. "Wha'?" Jack fought quickly to a sit, desperately fighting to hide the agony pelting his torso. "Na'…'s fine, Bunny! See?" he swiveled stiffly; only Bunnymund blocked him from grabbing his staff and bolting for good. "'m fine!"

And then it happened—another spasm. Worse and stronger then the last, Jack couldn't bite back the harsh cry that ripped from his throat. Bunnymund instantly had both paws around the kid, frantically wanting to do anything to help. Jack hardly even noticed. His eyes had gone black again; a blinding white pulsed through his head like a sledgehammer. Violently, he grabbed at his ribs, turning into himself as he fell into Bunny's protective embrace.

Both of them could feel the icy rime spreading from cheek to fur, but neither took any notice. At each cry, Bunny jumped, swallowing his own emotions (some for the boy's pain, most for pride for his strength). He prayed silently, hoping MiM would help Jack sleep, but the winter spirit was strong…MiM knew better than anyone that Jack wouldn't accept some act of pity like that.

"Bun—"

The word was all Jack could bite out through ground teeth, and he hated himself for it. He felt so weak, so ashamed. In his mind, all he needed to do was straighten up and smile and all the pain would go away, but…there he was, curled in a ball in Bunnymund's lap, sobbing like an infant. He needed Bunny to help him, to save him from himself.

Bunny understood that.

"A'right, Jack…" he murmured, the sound of the kid's name feeling heavy on his tongue. "Ya' got'ta get straight fer' me so I can make it betteh'," even as he spoke, Bunny started gently pulling Jack away from him; a firm paw on his shoulder kept the kid from falling back over.

Jack nodded through tightly squeezed eyes. Of course Bunny was right, he knew, the trick was telling his body that. Everything was tight, screwed up like a wound rubber band. Still, he did his best to comply, letting the older Guardian lead him to a somewhat upright position against the wall at one side of the bed.

"Good, good, kid," Bunny smiled and patting a paw on Jack's cheek, half to comfort him, half to wipe away the crimson that streaked there from his crying. "Right. I got'ta go get the bandages, okay? Just stay with me, right?"

Lazily, with a sheen of glittering frost coating his skin, Jack nodded through a grimace and forced a sad little smirk. "D-don' think I'm…go-in' anywhere…"

Bunny chuckled. Strong kid, indeed. And then, like a flash of spring, the Pooka was off.

Leaving Jack alone in his chilly little room.

Not once did the Winter Guardian move on the bed while Bunnymund was gone. Short, slow breaths, he thought. In, out, in, out…

Jack wouldn't be sure later, but it seemed to him that the pain was diminishing some as he sat there on the bed, legs weak and curled, arms locked at the elbows, hands gripping the glassy softness of the quilt. He didn't dare to open his eyes, or to cough when his throat burned from abuse. Instead, he focused. Just. Breathe.

…

"Snowflake?"

…

"Jack?"

…

"Jack!"

The intensity of Bunnymund's voice nearly gave Jack a heart attack. Instinctively, his bleary eyes shot open, surprised to see the Pooka sitting in front of him on the small bed, his giant paws slightly shaking his shoulders.

"Oi, mate…ya' gave me a fright," he said, visibly relaxing when Jack looked at him.

For the next in too many times, Jack found himself confused. "Wha'?" dumbly, he gazed wondered about the room. "What ha-happened?"

Bunny sighed while he gathered up the bandages he'd tossed on the bed. "Ya' passed out, ya' dill," then, softer, "You alright, kid?" Sure, Bunny well knew the answer already, but he knew Jack would appreciate the dignity of lying. He had to suppress a chuckle when the kid nodded. Well, at least his bleeding lip seemed to have stopped. Or frozen. Bunny wasn't entirely sure how that worked.

"Yeah, fine," Jack murmured, eying the medical supplies with caution. "Wh-at're you going..to do?"

Bunny did chuckle then. The roll of white bandage in his paws was harmless for sure, yet Jack was eyeing it like a Viper primed to strike. "No worries, mate…jus' gon'na wrap this about yer' middle so ya' can get some sleep. Bugger thing about busted ribs…take 'while ta' heal."

Jack almost rolled his eyes. He did, really…in his head. His eyes just weren't cooperating right at that moment. Defeated, he hoped a short puff of frigid air would get his point across.

It did.

Ignoring the silent whine, Bunny worked with inhuman sympathy and precision skill to help the boy ease out of his old hoodie, one painful movement at a time.

Ten minutes passed, and Jack was left shirtless and panting with face firmly set in a frown as Bunnymund started wrapping his torso with cloth. It hurt more then he'd admit, but Jack knew it'd be alright. Though he'd probably never say it, he trusted the Pooka with his life.

With trained paws working nimbly about the boy's tiny figure, Bunny tried not to notice the distinct white crystals scaling Jack's injured ribcage like a mold. It was his way of bruising, Bunny realized, but cold and disturbing nonetheless. Clearing his throat, he tied the last, flat knot and secured the tight bandage. "There ya' are, all set."

Shaking with the tremors of hurt, Jack pried opened his eyes and tested his breath. Tears nearly spilled over when he found he could breathe again. "Much better," he sighed. "Thanks."

Bunny nodded. He was pleased with his work, pleased he could be there for Jack when he needed him, and thrilled that the kid's color was no longer grey and skin was again chilled with the health of ice. "Good. Now, time fer' rest. Why don'cha try to lay down, uh?"

"'k," Jack's voice was barely a squeak, but he let Bunny help him shift anyway.

Uniquely gentle, the Rabbit pulled up the blanket over Jack's still form and smiled. "Yer' gon'na be jus' fine, kid. Rest up now."

Without the strength to fight, Jack felt himself pulled under by the sweet lull of sleep. He didn't want it—not in front of Bunny—but they were friends now, family…and try as he might, his eyelids were simply too heavy to hold open any longer.

Bunnymund was sure not to let the worry crease his face until well after Jack's eyes fluttered closed and breath evened-out. Deep set lines crinkled at the corners when his eyes frowned a tired sigh. Running a paw over the spirit's frosted hair, Bunny shook his head. "Wha'm I gon'na do with you, kid?"

Slowly, silently, he stood to leave the chilly room, stopping in the doorway only to look back at the immortal child sleeping in his den. It would forever be beyond him, how a child of ice could bring such warmth to his ancient old heart.

Later, Jack would wake to find himself in a room hid did not remember. There was blue on the walls and intricate pillows around his head. A woven quilt insulated him like a cave from the sun and a bed of carved ice melded with his shape. Only a slight tinge of pain stopped a laugh at the little basket of eggs brightening the room on a table by his bed. He didn't remember ever seeing the room before, but instantly he knew it was his.

As a subtle shift of winds ruffled the ice at his feet, Jack smiled, eyes drifting closed.

End.

A/N: Thanks again for your time and interest. Till next time,

~Strider