Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, own Rise of the Guardians or its characters; that right goes to Dreamworks.

That Flew Out the Window

Summary: It's been a few days now, Jack trying to keep snows light and able to melt, and all of that frost has been building up. Now, all Jack wants to do is have a snowball fight or sled with Jamie to let some of it off. Only, there's a tiny problem... Jamie may or may not be sick...

Genre: Friendship/ Very Light Humor

xxoxx

Jack sat perched on top of his staff, his toes wiggling and floral patterns of frost creeping out from under him. A gigantic smile splayed out on his face, his hands wringing at the crook of his staff while he stared into the sunrise that was lighting up a layer of snow on the ground...

He jumped up from the roof his staff had been resting on, the Wind flying Jack into the air with his arms outstretched and his fingers tingling with snow and frost. Everything slowed, Jack Frost almost losing his grip on his staff, and... "SNOW DAY!"

Jack told the Wind where to go, and he shot through the town of Burgess, painting it the icy blue of frost as he went. Windows frosted over, puddles of water chilling and making all of the 'morning people' that passed by slip. Dogs yapped and barked just to have their muzzles frozen shut; everything was just how Jack liked it, cold, beautiful, and oddly hilarious. Whooping in joy, he made the Wind curve upwards and send him upside-down, pointing him straight to a familiar house at the end of the block.

The Wind still barreling him forwards and ruffling his snow-white hair, Jack Frost jerked to the side and somersaulted forward, the momentum just enough to send him flying onto Jamie's roof with a soft 'clunk', his bare feet sliding at the tiles. Swinging his staff over his shoulder and steadying himself (the Wind was being a little rough with him today), he conjured a snowball into his free hand; it was time Jamie got a wake-up call.

The last few days had been rough for Jack. For the past week or so, the Wind had been sending him the whispers of Mother Nature, who, instead of a decent storm or blizzard, had been ordering light sprinkles of snow that barely stuck. To be fair, Jack had made it work, giving the kids some fun while keeping it light, but the frost had been aching in his fingertips for ages now; a snow day was needed and, according to Mother Nature, finally wanted. A snowball fight with Jamie, Pippa and the others would just tie it all together.

Creaking Jamie's window open with his staff, Jack took aim at a lump under the sheets...

... and had to stop his wrist from flicking forward, a messy blob of blonde hair shuffling out from the covers. Sophie? Jack thought for a second that maybe Jamie was beside her, or maybe they had switched rooms, but no. Jamie's racing stripes still stretched across his walls, pictures of his sledding 'accidents' plastered up in their usual spots, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jack leaned forward, brushing his bangs away from his eyes while he looked around. "Jamie?" Where could he have-

- there was a 'splat' and a smack of a little hand, and a snowball was crumbling against Jack frost's nose; Jamie had popped up from under his window, a scoop of fresh snow in his hand.

And then...

Jack smirked, one arm trying to hold on to both his staff and Jamie, the other trying to stuff a snowball down Jamie's shirt.

"Come on, Jack," he screamed. "You know I got you!"

"Oh, did you? I didn't notice," Jack laughed back. "You had this comin', Jamie."

Jamie squirmed in Jack's grip, twisting his shirt around in circles while he spun. The collar wrapped around Jack's fingers, cutting off the circulation and turning his pale fingers an even brighter shade of white, but he just smiled as he winced. At this rate, Jamie was just going to end up choking himself.

With a flick of Jack's wrist, Jamie was sent flying in circles from the way he had came, coming face to face with the Guardian of Fun. At least... as face to face as he could get with his eyes spinning and his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"Alright, Jamie." Jack dropped Jamie's shirt, the snowball in his hand disappearing while Jamie landed on the ground with a quiet 'thud'. "You win. Now, c'mon. I'll take you sledding across Ms. Greta's lawn." He swung his staff over both shoulders, behind his neck, bouncing inside with both hands drooping over the sides and still tingling with unshed snow.

Jamie just watched him as he strolled around his room.

"I might be eight, Jack, but I'm not stupid."

Jack gave a fake gasp and folded a hand over his heart. "Wh-Why, Jamie, I am offended! Don't you trust me?"

Jamie gave a familiar smile, crossing his arms against his chest. "No. Not really."

Jack floated over to him, a gentle wind lifting him from the floor, and patted Jamie on the back. "Good boy. Now, seriously, I'm still waiting for that snowball fight. Go on."

Jack hoped that he wasn't being rude, and that Jamie could see how much he was twitching. Gaining such a large handful of believers in such a short amount of time made holding back - only making a light snow - painful and difficult for him. He'd never tell Jamie that... he was too prideful to tell anyone that. Jack just hoped that Jamie's eight year old mind could understand what was wrong on its own.

Jamie wrung at his hands behind his back, looking up at Jack with a face as innocent as he could muster. Jack hadn't noticed until now, but Jamie's face looked thin and flushed, with long sleeves of a shirt going down to his fingertips to get rid of the cold. He looked almost like he was...

"Yeah, Jack, about that..." he started. "I'm kind of... stuck in here."

"Why?" Jack asked, his eyes narrowing in concern. "What do you mean?"

"Well, my mom won't let me go."

"Again, why?"

Jamie looked to his feet, which were pretty interesting all of a sudden, chewing at his bottom lip and watching his arms twitch while his eyes darted around. There was a sound at the back of his throat, as if he was making a decision, and-

"She thinks I'm sick. B-But you can sneak me out, right? Really, the fever's almost gone."

Jamie had popped up onto his tip-toes, trying his best to reach up to Jack's height. His face was jerked downwards into a pleading frown, one Jack almost fell for but...

Jack brought a cold hand to Jamie's neck, his skin nearly melting at contact with the heat. His fever was scorching, at least to Jack, and suddenly he knew he wasn't letting Jamie go. He was sick. He needed to sleep. He needed to sweat it out. That was something Jack couldn't help him with.

So he scooped up Jamie by the collar, and dropped him onto the bed beside a sleeping Sophie.

"Nope."

"Aw, come on. Please, Jack? What happened to sledding across Ms. Greta's lawn?" Jamie whined. "What about the snowball fight?"

Jack gave a half-hearted chuckle, wrapping a blanket around Jamie's shoulders and trying to avoid his pleading expression. Jamie wasn't going to win, wasn't going to kill him with those puppy-dog eyes, wasn't going to guilt trip him knowing that he was Jack's first believer, wasn't going to... j-just don't look at him. Don't.

"Oh, that? That flew out the window when you almost burnt my fingers off."

Jamie huffed, crossing his arms... and then let himself be confused. "Is-Is it really that bad?"

Jack stopped fluffing Jamie's pillow and fanning himself, and looked down at him, the same confused look on his face. "What are you talking about, Jamie?"

"Well, my mom just checked my temperature before you came, and it was just a little over regular. I know I'm probably warm to you, but I just didn't think it would be so diff-" Jamie stopped in his tracks, jumping up and staring at Jack with wide eyes. Suddenly, he could see it. He could see the way Jack was jittering, frost exploding off of his toes without him knowing it. He could see the way Jack was trying to scratch at his icy hands, and the way Jack was yanking at the collar of his hoodie whenever he could, the heat bothering him. He could see it. "Jack, are you... sick?"

Jack flew backwards, fixing Jamie with a light glare. Sick? Phht, Jack wasn't sick. Jamie was sick. Sure, the slush barreling around inside him was making his stomach churn, and was achy and had a pounding headache... and he was colder than usual... b-but that wasn't sick! It was just a magical build-up. Completely normal for a growing Guardi-

Jack stumbled forward, clutching his chest as snow and ice crept into an open spot in his lungs. He choked and gagged, his body convulsing, everything burning around him like he was in an oven, his toes prickling while ice flew off of them, his staff clattering to the ground...

Jack Frost coughed, snow flying from his lips.

And then Jamie popped a thermometer into his mouth.

"Yep," he said after a second, looking at the lowering numbers on the thing. "Definitely sick."

Jack sighed, flicking the thermometer around his mouth angrily with his tongue. "Well, I'm not sick; it's a little different than that, Jamie, but-"

"Jack."

"What?"

Jamie smiled, standing and walking to his window before creaking it open. "You're sick. Now get out."

Jack stumbled back, a hurt expression tugging at the corners of his mouth. Why would Jamie want him to...

"I mean, I want you here," Jamie continued. "But you're sick, and you need to make snow or get cold or something to get better, right? So go."

Jack frowned at that, leaning down to pick up his staff before swinging it over his shoulder. All of a sudden, Jack didn't like Jamie being sick... well, he hated it more than he already did. It made the kid notice things.

"Well, what happened to you whining about going outside? About wanting to sled across Ms. Greta's lawn?" he asked.

...

"Oh... that? That flew out the window after you almost turned my ears into icicles."

xxoxx

I know this isn't the most original thing, but I had to start somewhere, and this just kind of came to me. I promise you, though, one day I will make a sort of sequel to this where they actually go sledding across some random old lady's lawn. Until then... what did you think? This isn't really my best work, but this was just for fun, and I would really like your opinion.