Grace hadn't yet been to the library, and she was quite eager to see it. As an only child growing up with her parents as her best friends, reading had been a major blessing in disguise. Her books took her away from her home and into a whole new world. One where she could see everything through a hero's eyes. It was a nice change in scenery and Grace hadn't had all that much time to read lately.

The library was always a comforting smell. With Elsa as her mother, books smelled like home. Grace had inherited her mother's love of knowledge and reading, never finding schoolwork particularly difficult. Math was a strong suit of hers, geometry in specific. Unfortunately, she had graduated from geometry with the Bjorgmans, and was now in Algebra 2. Most people prefer algebra or geometry over the other and Grace was no exception. Luckily, she wasn't here for school, she was simply here for the books. A new one with a crisp red cover caught her eye, and she grabbed it from the shelf and settled down at a table by herself to read about it.

The door opened and shut behind her, but she was already busy reading. The book was entitled Invisible, by James Patterson and David Ellis. She wasn't familiar with David Ellis but she did recall James Patterson's name. From the sounds of it, this was more of an adult realistic fiction, but it captured her interest all the same. The prospect of dozens of unsolved potential murders drew her in. Right into the first five pages, Grace could connect with the main protagonist and heroine, Emmy Dockery. Bad dreams of the same thing over and over, plus the loss of her close family member. She could practically be reading her life story.

"Oh, hi Grace," someone behind her said, and she jumped, accidentally dropping the book.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't-" she cut herself off as she realized that it was Marcus staring down at her. She gulped, flushing red, and tucked a stray hair out of her face. "Um, hi Marcus. W-what are you doing here?"

He gave a small grin and held up the novel. "Assigned book in my English class."

"Oh, fun. What book?"

"Pride and Prejudices, I believe," he read off.

"Oh, I love that book," she announced, bending down to grab her book and flatten out the pages.

"You've actually read it before?" he said, slightly astonished.

Grace blushed once again. "Well, homeschooling left me with a lot of free time..."

He laughed. "I can actually see that. What book are you reading?"

Grace was a little suspicious in his sudden spark of interest in her, yet all the same slightly flattered. "Invisible by James Patterson and David Ellis," she recited.

"Oh, James Patterson has some good books."

"So I've heard," she said.

"Wait, you've never read anything by James Patterson?" Marcus gasped, shocked.

"Um...no?" it came out as more of a question that she had meant.

"Have you ever read anything like it?"

"I don't think so," she said.

"So, this might not be relative, but you've read The Hunger Games, right?"

"..."

"Are you serious?" he exclaimed, causing the librarian to shush them. They called out apologies while silently laughing.

"In my defense, I did see the movies," Grace whispered with a smile. Marcus pulled out and chair and sat down, somehow managing to look completely nonchalant. She gave him a funny look but he must not have seen it.

Grace didn't want to be rude, but surely someone like Marcus had better things to be doing than sitting here studying with her, right? "Um," she cleared her throat rather awkwardly. "Don't you have, I don't know, somewhere..."

'Better' was the word she was searching for, but she didn't want to come out and say it. She actually liked Marcus's company but Grace was anything but selfish. If he felt obligated to sit here with her, she didn't want him to.

"Better to be?" Marcus surprised her by finishing her sentence.

She blinked. "Um, yeah, kind of. I mean, you can stay if you want to, but, you know, it seems like you'd have, I don't know..."

Hmm, maybe Grace was a rambler after all. She didn't think her parents were ramblers, but her mother had been quite shy in high school she had heard. Some confidence might have been hers had she not lost, well, you know, but she'd much rather be shy and recluse. It was safer.

"No. Besides, I need to study. I was going to go back to my dorm, but, my roommate's not really one for silence."

She nodded. "Okay, then."

A small silence followed afterwards. Grace tried to keep reading but she never turned the page, and she hoped he didn't notice.

"So," Marcus said, breaking the silence. "Come here often?"

Grace snorted in amusement, immediately glancing over at the librarian. She was sending them daggers but she didn't say anything. She turned back to Marcus.

"Every Tuesdays and Thursdays," she told him, although it was a lie. This was the first time she had been here.

"Really, what a coincidence. Me too," he smiled at her, winking slightly. Grace furrowed her eyebrows at him but was quietly laughing all the same. It was obvious that Marcus didn't really come here every Tuesdays and Thursdays because Grace hadn't either, and he would have seen her even if he what he claimed was true. Somehow, Grace didn't see Marcus coming here very often. Wait a minute...did that mean that he was basically asking her if they could meet here again on those days? Certainly not, why would he do that?

Shortly following Grace's confusion, Marcus pulled out a highlighter from a backpack that Grace hadn't noticed before now. The neon yellow marker was soon highlighting important parts from a worksheet as he read through the first few pages of the novel, and Grace went back to her book, secretly sneaking glances at him over the top of Invisible every now and then.

(Only once did she get caught, but only because Marcus was looking at her, too.)

Marcus had a decent amount of pages read through and annotated before he looked up at the clock.

"It's three, I better get going," he said.

Grace looked up. "Wow, is it really that late?"

She had gotten to the library at one. It hardly seemed plausible that she had been there for two hours. And yet, the clock didn't lie.

"Me, too," Grace said. "I'm supposed to meet Cypress and Ben out front soon."

They walked out together. Grace found it a little alarming that she had to look almost directly up at him when standing side by side. Marcus kindly held the door open for her and she blushed as she thanked him.

"So," he smiled. "See you Tuesday?"

"Oh, um, sure," Grace said, a little confused as to why he had such an exact day to meet again. Oh, right...

As he left, Grace watched him go for a moment, pondering on whether he was simply pitying her or if he actually enjoyed her company.

"By the way," he called to her without looking back. "For someone who only goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I'd suggest knowing the days of the week."

What? Grace pulled out her phone, looking at the date. It was Saturday. A newly learned swear word from her oh-so-innocent best friend came to mind. Of course he had to notice. She gaped at him for a second.

Grace then spun on her heel and stalked away. And if Marcus turned back to around to watch her leave, if only for a second, she wouldn't know because she was already gone.

"Why hello, Grace, fancy meeting you here," Marcus slid into a seat beside her at the library. Grace had spent the past few days heavily debating on whether or not to go. She had asked Cypress, but her lack in boyish demeanor didn't help too much. All she suggested was the clever 'don't get hurt.' Grace knew that, both her mind and heart were locked bars of steel, and she wasn't about to free them anytime soon.

"Hi, Marcus," she said nervously, fingering her textbook. She had decided to study instead of bringing Invisible. It wasn't that the book was bad, far from it, actually. But when Grace got hooked into a book she generally ignored all other needs, and she had lots of homework and practice times she needed to get done, so she was forced to pace herself. She loved the world that Invisible created. It left her with chills in the night at the thought of what could actually happen in real life.

"So, what are you studying?"

"Algebra 2," she sighed, dropping her pencil and brushing her bangs away. Her uniform was slightly ruffled as she had yet to wash her spare. Marcus's uniform was perfectly crisp and clean, which Grace could expect nothing less.

"Fun," he says sympathetically.

"Yeah, totally. What about you?" she asked.

"More English," he gave a twisted smile, dropping Pride and Prejudices on the table and wincing when it emitted a loud bang! "Whoops," he grinned goofily.

Grace laughed, eyeing the librarian. She made a shushing gesture with a red hot glare before returning to whatever it was she was doing before.

"I think we better study," Grace whispered. "Or else we might get kicked out."

"She can't kick us out...can she?" Marcus asked, unsure. Grace wasn't entirely sure herself, either, but she dismissed it by going back to her textbook.

The next Thursday, Grace had Invisible, all efforts of putting it off down the drain. She had only allowed herself to read for one hour in the past couple days, but her homework would have to be off until late tonight because she was going to finish it. She just had to know who this Graham was and how everything turned out.

Marcus silently slid in to the seat across from her, and she passed him a smile before going back to reading. They sat in silence that day, but neither seemed to mind. Grace resolved to losing herself in the world of Invisible, hardly believing the similarities she could find between herself and the tragic heroine who believed in something that no one else did.

He was losing it.

He tried to deny it, he tried to fight it, he tried and tried and tried and tried but it wasn't enough. Jack Frost was officially going mad. It wasn't something he was accustomed to, as he always considered himself level headed in dire situations, but without anyone to talk to or keep him going, he couldn't stand it. And it's not that Elsa wasn't enough, but she simply wasn't there. He tried to tell himself that she was enough, but the truth was he was just lonely and he didn't know what was going on or where he was or how he could escape. Pitch Black was holding him captive, he knew that much. He got food three times a day (he thought, as he wasn't sure since it was all pitch black...no pun intended) but never got to see the light. That was what he knew, but everything else was hazy and he wasn't sure of anything. For all he knew he was in a mental asylum somewhere, tricking his mind into believing that he was here as a prisoner.

But, no. That couldn't be right. Elsa needed him. She might not be here, but she was still here. Just because she wasn't awake didn't change the fact that she still needed him. Jack knew that, which was why he didn't completely give in to his desires. There were no voices, but he almost wished there were. At least he wouldn't be alone. To be honest, he was plain and simply scared. How could he ever get home, and if he did, how long had he been gone already? Pitch surely couldn't be planning to keep them here their whole lives, could he? Could he?

It was Pitch Black, of course he could. Add that to the list of many things that scared Jack.

He was just so unsure of himself. Of his life, of his sanity. Of everything. Now, he was also scared that he wouldn't be able to adapt if he got back home. Wait, wait, wait, what was with the 'if'? It should be 'when' because he was going home. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow (or, whenever it was), maybe it wouldn't be for a really, really long time, but he would make it. Him and Elsa against the world. And then, when they got back, they could find Grace again.

Yes, he decided. He couldn't lose it quite yet. His sanity was a very touchy thing, and he couldn't mess with it too much. He'd need it for later, as well as his strength. Elsa would need her strength as well for when she awoke because he swore on his grave that he would make sure she would wake. He couldn't live without her, and he refused to. He needed Elsa. He only hoped she needed him, too. But Elsa was strong, stronger than him. She'd probably be doing so much better than him if their roles were reversed.

The silence stretched on, and he felt heavily obligated to fill it with something, anything. Elsa was so peaceful, he could almost imagine that she was sleeping and would wake at any moment. Jack back himself until he felt the solid mass of a wall, drawing Elsa close to him.

Because he went to BPAA for four years straight, and because he simply no longer cared, he stroked Elsa's hair lovingly, closed his eyes, and started to softly sing. His voice was terribly dry but he didn't sing too loud.

My face above the water

My feet can't touch the ground

Touch the ground, and it feels like

I can see the sands on the horizon

Every time you are not around

The song, compared to the original track, was so slow and almost haunting, reminding him of a song he once sang back in his junior year of high school. He couldn't even remember the title, but the tempo was about the same. Even though those lyrics were about standing on your own without his significant other, the song still seemed to fit his mood. He continued on, his soft lullaby to his unconscious love.

I'm slowly drifting

Wave after wave, wave after wave

I'm slowly drifting

Slow waves, unlike the ones that crushed the giant cruise ship and sank his hopes of ever being fine, rhythmic, comforting, and promising waves, slowly pulling him away from what he needed to do, what he needed to be. It was an awfully nice place they promised, and he was so, so lonely...

And it feels like I'm drowning

Pulling against the stream

Pulling against the stream

Would it be so bad to give in to it? To let go, even if for a moment? To just stop fighting altogether? The thing was, his grasp was so weak right now, and he didn't know how long he could last. If he did let go, paused to take a break, he didn't know if he'd be able or even willing to get it back. The thought of going somewhere beyond the physical realm with no certainty of returning frightened him. Oh, how he wished Elsa were here. What he wouldn't give for her to be here to hear his awful singing to a hauntingly slow lullaby.

I wish I could make it easy

Easy to love me, love me

But still I reach

To find a way

I'm stuck here in between

I'm looking for the right words to say

Caught between his reality and the real reality, he was unsure of what to do. Unsure of what really was right and what was not the same. Was there even a difference? He couldn't even tell anymore.

I'm slowly drifting

Wave after wave, wave after wave

I'm slowly drifting

And it feels like I'm drowning

Pulling against the stream

Pulling against the stream

Without all of the added instrumental pieces, the song was rather short, and Jack cut it off there. He would have to linger in the waves, resisting the temptation, just a little longer. If Elsa could only promise him that he need only hold on for just a little bit longer, he could do it. He had to. Somehow, he knew that certain things would depend on it.

Jack tugged Elsa's limp frame- so delicately fragile, so shockingly thin- onto his lap, hugging her head closely to his chest. He swore to her then that he would get them home. Somehow, some day, if it was the last thing he ever did.

In that point of time, for truth to be told, it probably would be.

Elsa was breathing.

Well, of course she was breathing, Jack would be a little alarmed if she wasn't, but she was breathing irregularly, which was different. It was always steady, with maybe a few fluttering heartbeats, but an easy going, relaxed pace. Now, her heart was racing like a jackrabbit, her breath ragged and very uneven. Elsa was breaking into a sweat, and Jack felt equal parts excited and nervous. What was going on? He made a mental note to become a doctor when he got back.

"Elsa," he murmured, leaning down right next to her ear. "Can you hear me?"

She responded by gasping for breath, her brow furrowing.

"That's it, Elsa," he coaxed. "You can do it. I'm here, you're not alone. Do you hear me? You're not alone."

He wasn't entirely sure who he was speaking to at this point, but something must have gotten through.

"Elsa, can you hear me? I love you, please, please be waking up and not dying. Please don't leave me. We're both in hell now, I'm not gonna lie, but please don't leave me." he pleaded, cupping her cheek lovingly. He tried to imagine his appearance. His eyes were surely bloodshot, his face dirty, his fingernails probably worse than Daniel Radcliffe's in the battle at the end of whatever movie Grace had dragged them to and wouldn't shut up about the actors. But he was here, and if Elsa was about to wake up, then he wasn't alone. He didn't want to be alone, he was afraid to be alone.

"Elsa," he breathed, savoring the taste of her name on his tongue. It was sweet, one he never got got tired of and never would. He leaned even further to hug her. He was unashamed for the tears that were streaking down his face. He was sure that anyone else in his situation would be doing the same and if they weren't, well, then, screw them. They weren't in his situation, and he was near the breaking point so they could take it up with a half starved, crazed man who was in danger of losing his life and all other life ahead of him.

He was so busy talking to Elsa that he didn't notice a distant door open and slam closed.

"Aw, the Snow Queen's finally waking, is she?" Pitch Black's ugly voice sliced through the quiet silence, an unwelcome intruder to the stagnant air around Jack.

"Leave us alone," Jack spat, calling Pitch a name he wouldn't want Grace to ever hear but couldn't do anything about her hearing anyway.

"Uh huh," Pitch said, bored. How could he even see in this darkness? "Well, as much as I'd like to stay here and listen to you call me petty names, I have food to deliver. You can starve to death, but I'd much rather watch you suffer for a bit longer. I always assumed you were stronger. I'm rather disappointed in you, Frost."

"Why the hate?" he asked, his tone mocking. "Seriously, what did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much to kidnap me a second time-"

"Oh, you're breaking my heart." Pitch then unceremoniously shoved the tray of food to Jack, and he scrambled for it. "Look what you've become. Pathetic."

"Bastard," Jack muttered under his breath as his footsteps rang around him and then slowly faded away. Whether or not Pitch heard wasn't the question, it was whether or not he cared. And by the sounds of it, he assumed that he definitely did not care.

Elsa sucked in a breath once more, dragging Jack's attention back to her. He discarded the food to the corner and stumbled back to er side.

"Elsa?" he asked. "Come on, you can do it. You're almost there...I think... Please, just wake up."

She was fighting the sleep, he knew it. She was so close, she could do it, he knew.

"Come on," he whispered. "You're so close."

When she stilled suddenly, quietly, Jack was frozen for a second. He waited. He counted to ten. Then twenty. Thirty, fourty... Nothing.

"Elsa?" he asked quietly. Then, a little louder, and a little more panicked, "Elsa?"

His hands were trembling as he checked her breathing, but he couldn't be sure. Was that air he felt of his fingers? Or was it nothing? He didn't know!

"Elsa?" he practically shouted. She didn't stir. No, she couldn't be. He had been fighting so hard, he had held on for so long.

She couldn't have let go. He didn't, she wasn't supposed to, either. She was supposed to wake in a dramatic arousing, reuniting with her husband where they would figure out a way to get back home to their daughter!

"Elsa, you- you can't. You have things left to do! Grace is waiting for us! It wasn't supposed to end like this, dammit!" he shouted, standing and kicking what he thought was the food. It was, and it made a satisfying echo throughout the cell. Tears flooded his eyes and he clutched at his hair, pulling as hard as he could. The pain brought more tears to his eyes but it felt better than the pain Elsa had brought. He choked out a sob, allowing it to rack through his entire body.

There's something not right about seeing a man cry. It's not trying to be sexist, but when a man cries, you know something is utterly wrong. Men tend to save their tears like Elsa had, but she had learned to let go. To be strong is to admit your weaknesses, and Jack had a hell of a lot right now.

"No, no, no, no, no," he moaned over and over, squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could. Only a few tears made up the rivulets that were flowing down, as if his body was too in shock to even produce a decent amount of tears. This was not right. He was supposed to take care of her, he promised her!

His world was crashing down on him. That was it, he couldn't do it any longer. He couldn't be alone. He thought that Elsa being unconscious wasn't enough but this, this wasn't enough. He needed her, and would take her back. If she were in a coma for the rest of her life, he wouldn't care, he just wanted her to not be...

She wasn't. Impossible. She wasn't, he couldn't think it. He wouldn't accept it. He refused!

Because Jack's world had lost all light- both figuratively and literally, he didn't know that Elsa's crystal blue eyes opened to the darkness. Because he was so aghast in his pain, he didn't notice her ever so slowly crawl over to where he was crouching and hugging his knees for some meager support. And because he was so numb in his grief, he didn't feel her thin fingers grasp his shoulders comfortingly.

But he wasn't so lost, aghast, or numb to hear her voice call out in a horse whisper, "Jack."

Okay, well, I'm actually satisfied with Jack and Elsa's part right now...huh. But thank you all so much. You guys just gave me another boost of inspiration. I have completely forgot the effect other readers can have on you, and it meant a lot to me. I hate to sound so cheesy right now, so I'll just move on. By the way, just so you all know, when I'm saying that my writing sucks, I'm not trying to dig for compliments, I swear. That's awesome if you think that it doesn't, but in my opinion, I can do better. But thank you for all the lovely thoughts sent my way.

4Love4Love4: Gahhhhh...wait, how'd you get that conclusion? I'm not commenting, but just, you know, interested... And thanks so much! I updated as soon as I could and look! It's before the end of December, whoo hoo!

LeeLuLove: Well, too late for that, but again, I appreciate the gesture. Don't even worry about it! To answer your question, no, I have every intention to finish The Shifters, however it does surprise me slightly that people are still interested in it. All the same, an update is in the future for that story! Actually, The Shifters was supposed to be finished first, as a few things could be predicted in this story from the events of that story...

Guest: why thanks you! And I may or may not have an answer. ;) Lol, I can blame my 8th grade Honors English and Geometry teacher for that response... Anywho, for this one, I am choosing to remain silent. I know it does seem like that (a lot), but all will be explained. And yeah, he's supposed to be that way. Thanks for that on Grace, I'm having difficulty writing her. I think the problem is that she's turning out so much more girlier than I'm used to writing and it's really unfamiliar territory for me, as well as the loss because I have never experienced such tragedy as I have bestowed upon her. I guess I find it a bit hard to connect to. Hey, if anyone does have some first hand experience and doesn't mind talking about it, I'd love it if you could PM me with some inspiration. Only if you're comfortable though, because while I don't know close loss, I do understand some and yeah, it sucks. But other than that, go talk to a completely random stranger on the internet whom your parents probably warn you about, yay!

But wow, seriously, 2 requests to update The Shifters? I am severely surprised. It's a good thing, don't worry.

CherryChocoholic: Oh, totally. I have my reading glasses and ready for the night!

ElvisRules41: ...um...that wasn't my brightest hope for humanity, but it was pretty funny. Actually, she did. Just a few days ago. She's thinking of doing a fanfic of The Host and I can't wait to read it because she is an awesome writer! And hehe...uh, well, let's just say, I earned four extra points on my science test for winning some practice thing, and I got upset because I got 108/105. My friend says I'm paranoid (which I'm not!) but come on! That means I missed one and I studied so hard! I think I know which question it was, too. Darn tests. However, I like the elements a little too much at times, I think...

ElsaTheSnowQueen2: thank you!

ThePotatoQueen: okay, how did you come to this conclusion? Did I miss something? Yeah, probably. Oh well, I'll have to fix that later...

Enjoy your day, or night, or morning, or whatever! See you next update and thanks so much for your support!