To those of you who realized that this wasn't the end of What's Left of Me, you were right. It wasn't the end of this wonderfully angsty fic. But to those of you who still haven't quite realized it, go back and read through all of my AN's. You might learn something that I've been trying to hint at the entire fic.

This is the end of the road for What's Left of Me, but there's just a new beginning around the corner with the sequel, dubbed Fix You. I would like to extend my complete thanks to you amazing people who have stuck with me through this journey.

With an astounding 243 reviews, 262 favs, and 450 follows, I would like to conclude WLoM with one final thank you.

Thank you all.

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 having the strangest dream.

He was standing in the middle of the lake, the full moon shining down on him and the surrounding forest. But he wasn't alone.

Bunnymund was there too. And it was strange because he looked about as confused as the Winter Spirit was feeling.

Jack blinked, cautious as the Pooka's bright emerald gaze turned his way. There wasn't much that he could do about it. Even though his heart was swelling at the sight of the grey and white fur, Jack's mind was clinical, unwilling to fully accept anything in this dream. Every time he had, it had been taken from him and replaced with a nightmare, a specialty of Pitch's.

He didn't want to turn away, but he did so anyway. This was just another nightmare. Any second now, he would wake up, drenched in sweat, and wonder why he was always so helpless.

The Winter Spirit darted up into the trees, staff in hand, and ignored the shout behind him, begging him to stop, just like he had before.

Just like when he'd-

"Frostbite!"

Paws were suddenly cradling him, and Jack realized that the scene had changed. He was in the cavern where he and Pitch had been fighting- they had been fighting, hadn't they- and a worried face hovered above him. It was then that he realized how cold he was, cold as the ice that he'd come to possess. Shivering, he curled into the warm, listening to the worried voice calling his name.

"Frostbite!"

"Jack!"

"Jack!"

"Jack..."

o-o-o-o

He was warm.

The Winter Spirit tiredly pried open his eyes, flinching at the light that suddenly assaulted him. God, he felt terrible. He couldn't quite recall how he had managed to become so tired and weary, but whatever it was had to have been pretty bad to leave such a mark on him.

However, when he realized where he was, he bolted upright.

He was back in the Warren. Above him, the cave glowed with the ever present sunlight, dappling the moss covered stones around him. The Winter Spirit found that he was lying against something soft...almost like fur.

His breath hitched in his throat as he moved a hand, encountering the velvety soft fur that he thought he'd never touch again, and he was moving in an instant, arms moving of their own accord as he launched himself at the Pooka's chest.

The effect was immediate; Bunnymund bolted upright, Jack's arms circling around the broad ribcage the best he could as he burst into silent tears.

"Frostbite." the Pooka murmured, curling his own limbs around the Winter Spirit's smaller frame and cradling him against his heart.

"I thought..I'd never see you again.." the teen hiccupped, burrowing deep into the long fur and inhaling, feeling all of his stress and worry and pain and grief simply disappear.

"Ah'm right here, Frostbite." Bunnymund assured in what could only be described as a half rasp, half cough. "Ah'm not goin' anywhere."

"You're really here." Jack said after several minutes of silence, leaning back to search the Pooka's gaze. "How?"

"Ah don't really know." the Pooka replied, tilting his torso back so that the Winter Spirit could comfortably rest on his chest. "But one second Ah'm in North's workshop and the next Ah'm wakin' up here."

"Are the others-?"

"They're all fine. North, yetis, Tooth and her Teeth, and Sandy. We're all here."

"But Pitch- he said-" the teen stumbled around the words, trying to find one that wouldn't quite come to mind. "He said that you were all..dead."

Jack's voice hitched on the last word, and with a comforting rumble, Bunnymund ran his paw through the Winter Spirit's hair, smoothing it back from his tired and haunted face.

"Ah don't know, Frostbite. But Ah had to find you. You weren't at the monastery when Ah went there. It was Sandy who found you. What happened, Jack?"

Jack suddenly found himself wanting to sink into a very dark hole somewhere far away from the probing gaze that was being leveled at him. He ducked his head, images flickering by in his mind, and he subconsciously shivered at the memories of Pitch's defeated gaze as he stared up into his killer's eyes.

"I can't." he shook his head. No. He wouldn't tell. The last time that something like this had happened, he'd nearly gotten himself killed. All of his instincts were taking over, not allowing him to think clearly through the panic that the mere thought of that battle brought to mind.

"Frostbite, you can tell me." Bunnymund urged softly, continuing to stroke Jack's hair carefully, protectively. "Ah won't let anything happen to you again."

"How can you say that to me?" the Winter Spirit whispered. "After everything that I've done, how can you just say something like that?"

He felt the Pooka sigh beneath him, and then he found himself shifted so that he was able to see the Pooka's face as he sat on his stomach. "Jack. Ah know that you've been through a lot. Hell, Ah've been with you for part of it. But no matter what, you're a Guardian, and the Man in the Moon chose you for a reason."

"I'm broken." Jack retorted. "That's all that's ever been to it. I'm broken, ugly and I've done things that I barely even understood! I killed Pitch!"

That one word, out of the entire sentence, had Bunnymund frozen beneath the Winter Spirit.

"What?"

Jack ducked his head again. He didn't want to see that disgusted look cross the Pooka's features.

"Frostbite, look at me."

It was a command, and Jack found himself automatically lifting his head, though he inwardly cursed himself out for doing so. But rather than the expected repulsion and disgust, there was nothing but pity in the emerald gaze that stared right on through all of the walls he had tried to put up against everyone, seeing right into what Jack never wanted anyone to see, prying into all of his secrets with ease.

"You killed Pitch?" the Pooka asked softly.

He nodded.

"Ah'm sorry, Jack." the other Guardian said, pressing his nose into the junction between Jack's neck and jaw. "No one should have to do that on their own."

"I did." he replied bluntly.

"It's not going to happen again." the Pooka promised. "Never again."

o-o-o-o

Seeing all of the other Guardians again for the first time since his suicide attempt was awkward for Jack. Tooth was immediately hovering all around him, fretting and checking to make sure that all of his teeth were still intact. North, to the surprise of everyone, had wrapped the Winter Spirit in the tightest hug imaginable and had simply held on for several loud moments. And Sandy? Well, the small man went through an entire scene of images that flickered by so quickly that the Winter Spirit didn't even understand the point that was being made.

It was like that at first. But then they wanted to know what had happened. How they had come back, what had happened to Jack while they were gone. And Jack simply couldn't tell them what he had done. At the time, it had seemed so simple, so instinctive, but as he looked back, all Jack could see was the animalistic brutality that he had used to end Pitch's life.

How could he live knowing that he had killed someone simply because the Man in the Moon had told him so? He had been herded, trained, and purposefully manipulated like a pawn in a game of chess.

And now he didn't know which way to turn.