Prologue

Many cold winters had passed since that day. The day that his life changed forever, that he froze (literally) in time and the world moved on. Months turned into years which turned into decades, which eventually turned to centuries. Centuries of watching time pass and lives begin and end. Over and over. He could only spend the eternity he had been granted watching. He was a spirit, a ghost. Until the battle, until he had become a Guardian, he wandered aimlessly through people's lives, wishing he could be a part of it all.

He spent a lot of time wondering why children were different, specifically why they were so different from adults. Children could spend hours playing, lost in their own world, without a second thought. They ruled castles, fought dragons, made their dreams come to life and they believed. Their excitement was something to watch on Christmas mornings and when they shoved their hands under their pillows and found a shiny new coin in place of a tooth. They couldn't even contain their glee and they would bounce up and down clapping their little hands and shrieking at the top of their lungs.

It was the best part of being a Guardian. It was something they never got tired of after thousands of years. It was what they lived for.

But as they years went by it was heartbreaking because, right before their eyes, the excitement grew dim like a fire that was out of things to burn.

The sparkle disappeared. The toys and the childish fantasies were replaced by textbooks and rules and belief was replaced by doubt. Which eventually cemented into certainty. This was encouraged by parents who insisted that it was time to "grow up."

He had heard it all before.

"You are not a kid anymore. It's time to grow up. It's time to open your eyes and see what is real."

"Stop pretending. There is no such thing as imaginary friends. No such thing as the tooth fairy, Santa Claus, as the Easter bunny."

"There is no such thing as magic."

Children stopped doing silly things such as playing out in the snow. They started glancing over their shoulders every time they did something so "babyish," afraid that someone had seen them. They scoffed at the existence of things like fairies or elves. How had they ever believed such ridiculous stories?

For the Guardians, this was nothing new. It was unfortunate, but there were billions of children around the world and as each one grew up another took their place. The Guardians were careful not to get too attached to one child because it was all so temporary and soon the child wouldn't even be able to see them anymore.

Once a child stopped believing, they grew up, and once they reached adulthood it was permanent. They couldn't see the Guardians anymore. After years and years of watching this happen unfailingly as every child grew up, the Guardians accepted it and focused on bringing as much joy as they could while they could. Even as small children the belief was never unshakeable, if recent events were any indication.

Pitch Black had reminded the Guardians that most children can and will stop believing, that if they are not careful, doubt will eventually win.

Although he was young compared to the rest of the Guardians (he was only a few centuries old after all-a kid really) he had seen this enough to know that this was the way the world was. Kids couldn't stay young forever despite what Peter Pan had wanted. Neverland didn't exist and time only moved forward.

It always bothered him more than the others when this happened. He was new to the whole Guardian thing but he wasn't new to children. He always said he liked them more than adults. They were more fun and they actually enjoyed the occasional snowday. They appreciated his work more than the adults ever did. While adults grumbled about the snow blocking the streets and causing them an endless list of problems, kids made snowballs and snowforts and ice skated and played hockey. They made snowmen and sled down the biggest hills in town. Jack was always there flying or running with them, his staff slung over his shoulder as he watched the kids have a snowball fight with a grin.

Sometimes he felt guilty when someone got a bloody nose or a broken leg because of the ice. But the funny thing was, the kids would almost always bounce back. They weren't scared and in fact, were all too excited to have all their friends sign their cast or to be able to boast over their injuries.

One kid, upon being asked by his teacher where he acquired the new scar on his cheek, had grinned and loudly proclaimed that they were his "war injuries." He went on to talk about the benefits of an ice sword versus a snowball and to talk about the battles he had fought similar to any veteran.

"Men all have t'make sacrifices in war, miss. I reckon this was the least I could do. I regret that I have but one life to give for my country." With this speech he bowed and ran back to his seat.

The kid was seven years old, and to this day remembering that particular incident made him smile.

He supposed that his job was lesser known but it was more personal. He may not deliver millions of presents in one night, or hide eggs all around the world, but he got to see the effects of his "job" up close. It didn't really feel like a job because he loved what he did. The name Jack Frost was not as well-known as Santa Claus but it wasn't that important. When he had been made a Guardian, he was unimpressed. Why would he want to be a Guardian? But that was before the battle, before that one person still believed.

After the guardians made Jack one of their own they reminded him never to get too close to one child and to avoid revealing himself to them. With the obvious exception of the battle with Pitch, the belief was supposed to be more or less blind. They had to have faith.

He agreed, but he saw no harm in watching certain children grow up from a distance. By certain children, he meant the group of children who fought with him against Pitch. They had already seen him so surely there was no harm in keeping an eye on them?

Jack watched over all of them as they grew up but he spent more time on one in particular. The boy who was the only one in the entire world who had still believed, who had refused to give up on them. Who, although he didn't know it, had saved the Guardians single-handedly. Jamie Bennett was one of the bravest kids Jack had ever seen. Despite everyone else giving up on the Guardians, Jamie had been the single light on that globe that had kept their hope from dying completely.

Literally and metaphorically, Jamie was a light in the world. How poetic.

Jack Frost watched as they all grew up. He watched them laugh and tell the stories of their victory and of the guardians over and over again. He saw them reenact the battles for parents who had given each other knowing looks, or kids who had watched wide-eyed at their animated storytelling. They had each written stories for their classes and had gotten praise for the inventiveness and creativity of their "story." They thanked Jack out loud when they got a snowday. Jamie would still talk to Jack every night or ask Sandy out loud for some good dreams. Every night Jack would sit on the windowsill and listen and leave beautiful frost designs on Jamie's window to be seen in the morning. This was the only sign he was allowed to leave to prove he still existed.

He tried carefully to heed the Guardian's warning. He never revealed himself and never spoke back, even though he desperately wanted to.

Jack Frost watched as they all grew up. He watched as they all began to doubt as the dismissal of their story by adults and other children alike began to wear down on them.

He watched one by one as they stopped believing until a twelve-year-old Jamie was the only one left.

He watched as concerned teachers began to take an interest in his stories, but not for the reasons he liked. He watched as Jamie was told to stop lying, that it wasn't real, that he needed to grow up. His imagination was running away with him and it was time to stop pretending.

He watched as his parents sat down with him and gently explained the difference between dreams and reality. How they were not to be confused. How, as time went on, the gentleness and soft amusement turned into frustration and sternness.

"You must stop telling these lies, Jamie. It's ridiculous. This has gone on long enough. People will start thinking you are lying for attention, they will think that you are crazy, they will think…"

All about what people would think. And Jack watched as Jamie turned away from the door in his bed as the sound of footsteps faded away and cried quietly.

Jack watched as Jamie turned thirteen and the bullying started. At first it was just teasing, name-calling and the usual fun at his expense. But as they all got older it got worse. It became habit for them to follow him home or behind the school and shove him down. To hit him in the stomach or the face and tease him as he struggled not to cry. He watched as Jamie came up with elaborate excuses to give to his parents when they asked about his black eye or the various cuts and bruises. Jamie learned not to cry, never to show any sort of emotion and the abuse would end quicker. He learned to mask his face to be cold, like ice. And, eventually, after asking for help or proof or a sign or anything and receiving nothing, Jamie learned to stop believing.

But the damage had been done. As the years passed Jamie drew in on himself and really, he had no choice. He continued to be ignored (at the best of times) by his classmates and so called friends. He became silent and cold. His parents fretted over the loss of their sweet little boy but sat by wringing their hands, not quite sure what to do. Therapy, counseling, new interests, they tried it all. Nothing seemed to work.

And Jack Frost watched as the years passed, unable to do anything but feel his own heart break. He had tried so many times to intervene, only to be stopped by North or one of the other Guardians. After the first time that Jamie had almost seen him, they had kept an eye on Jack Frost. He protested this loudly and angrily. How could they abandon this child, when they claimed it was their job to make children happy?

"Jack…" Tooth had said sadly her wings drooping, "You have to understand that Jamie really isn't young anymore. I have collected his last tooth and he has had his last Easter egg hunt. It is time for him to start growing up. We are not allowed to interfere, ever."

"Someday," said North, "You will understand when you have lived as long as I. We can not stop this from happening. It is… destiny. Much like you becoming Guardian."

Jack had refused to give up on Jamie, refused to accept it. It just wasn't in his nature to abandon anyone (it was why he became a Guardian after all). He wasn't sure why, but the idea of never seeing Jamie again, of watching him get hurt over and over again, was unbearable. It made him feel something dark, somewhere deep inside.

No matter how hard he tried he could not help. He watched as even more of Jamie disappeared as the brave little boy he once was went away, piece by piece, bit by bit. Soon there would be nothing left.

Jamie was seventeen years old when Jack finally made up his mind. He had a plan. He may not be able to see Jamie and talk to him as Jack Frost, the Guardian, but there was a time, centuries ago when he too had been a normal teenager. If he had done it once, he could do it again. He had to.

His heart thudded in his chest. He was going to talk to his Jamie again.

He could only hope he wasn't too late.