4| Trickster in the Tub

The sky had become a dark hue of blue and black, when Jack Overland Frost finally and hesitantly slipped into the water-filled porcelain basin; and the water rippled and rose as Jack added his weight to the water.

He had been spending the last ten minutes staring at the tub of water in fascination, frowning as waves of heat had escaped from its liquid surface. The former winter spirit had had many unsatisfactory experiences with heat and steam before; and he hadn't been exactly willing to compromise with the burning form of energy yet. It was only when he had heard a knocking at the bathing room door and a voice questioning his condition, that he had, after quickly flustering out an answer, managed to calm his nerves and sink himself into the surface of the clear water.

The liquid had turned out to be surprisingly lukewarm; but to Jack, who had not experienced any form of heat for a little over three-hundred years, it was uncomfortably hot.

He stifled a yelp and grimaced slightly in an odd form of sarcasm. "So this is what it feels like to be in a hot tub."

With dedicated patience, the former frost spirit slowly lowered himself into the tub until almost his entire body was submerged by the warm, clinging water. Relaxing himself, he floated steadily in the water, allowing the now comforting heat to seep into his skin.

And he allowed his mind to clear...

What was going on?

He held himself in spot for a moment and allowed the water to still and become a mirror. The face of a familiar copper-haired, brown-eyed adolescent rippled along the surface of the aqua-mirror. Frowning at the familiar, yet foreign reflection, Jack drew his toned hand across the water and disturbed the liquid mirror.

'I look... human again... And...' A small smile crept up his rosy face, 'And... my family is alive! And they can freakin' see me!'

This had Father Time written all over it. But now that Jack thought about it, Father Time was not on the list of people whom he had pranked nor actually met, so why was this entire predicament occurring?

Then a thought suddenly wove its way deep into his mind. And the thought terrified him.

What had happened to his powers?

Even without his staff, he would usually be able to - whether or not it was with his consent - freeze water upon touch. And now?

Jack once again wafted his peachy arms through the distilled water.

Now, there was nothing. And he felt horribly empty inside. He felt horribly...human?

A knock on the bathing room's fogged up window drew his attention away from his thoughts. He squinted through the moisture in the air and stared at the window for a moment; but after nothing out of the ordinary followed, he sank back into his thoughts.

He now needed to find away to-

The reverberation of something against glass echoed through the bathing room's interiors once more, causing Jack to jump slightly. He frowned at this. No one made Jack Overland Frost jump. Not even the Boogieman.

He stood up slowly from the basin, allowing the lukewarm streams of water to trail down his tan, naked skin. He reached over towards the holding-iron and grabbed his brown-hemmed pants, quickly made his way out of the basin, and slid them on. And since he had not dried himself off, the clothing material clung rather tightly to his steamy skin. If Tooth's mini-fairies were in the room at the moment, they would have surely fainted at the scene.

Jack didn't bother to search for his shirt (his... 'mother' had taken it from him earlier to wash) and quickly bounced up towards the window, his limbs oddly managing to stay swift and nimble even though he himself was no longer as light and elegant as a snowflake. Pressing his rosy fingers on the surface of the glass, he attempted to peer through the fogged up glass. All he saw was darkness.

"Well, then," Jack said promptly with a small smile, suddenly wondering why on Earth he was talking to himself, "might as well go explore!"

The cold would do him good anyways, right? Whenever he had contracted a fever in the past (mostly from wandering in the deserts for too long), he would just immerse himself in frigid snow to relieve him off of his hot flashes. So... the same concept would still apply to him now, right?

"Might as well find out, right?" Jack questioned himself, grinning recklessly.

He dug his fingers in-between the small crack left between the window and the walls and pulled upwards. Immediately, a cold draft entered the room, causing Jack to shiver slightly. He paused for a moment, his mind racing.

He vaguely knew that deep inside, he was just trying to avoid meeting his family. Be it because of his fear that he wasn't the 'Jack' that his family so desperately wanted to see, or because of his adept attraction towards loneliness and adventure when confused, Jack did not in the least bit want to rendezvous with his family at the moment. The happiness that he would feel with them - it would all be temporary, or so he assumed. Anyways, he needed to get his head wrapped around his current situation and the exploration of his surroundings would heed to his goal greatly.

With those thoughts in mind, Jack slipped quietly out of the window and into the dark, winter night.

The Burgess's dining room was terribly quiet, even though most of the family members were present around the dinner table. An atmosphere of uncertainty and hesitation had immediately filled the room after Hudson, one of the two younger twin sons, brought up Jackson Burgess's strange and erratic behavior.

"Why is Jack acting like," Hudson asked quietly as he stared hungrily at the untouched food on his porcelain plate, "like a stranger for, Dad?"

Thadeus Burgess exchanged a quick glance with his wife , who shook her head discretely, before coughing in preparation to speak. "It's the fever. The doctor said he would most likely be delirious for several days." Thaddeus paused, clasping his hands together on top of the table after seeing a look of fear pass over young Hudson's face, "I assure you, son, he will be back to his trickster ways soon enough."

A nervous laugh wavered through the table, and Hester Burgess took this opportunity to speak up with a quivering smile, "Well, since Jackson is bathing at the moment, it's no use to let good food become cold. I'll heat up some broth for him when he is done." Her brown gaze flickered up to her husband's shaven face, "Shall we say grace?"

"Yes," Thadeus approved with a curt nod, smiling warmly at his wife, "That would be a-

"I'm not hungry." Pippa spoke suddenly, setting her fork that she had been fiddling with previously on the table. "May I be excused from the table?" She asked this while she stared down at her hands underneath the table.

"Pippa," Hester spoke sternly, "y-

"Please, mum." Pippa pleaded insistently as she glanced up and met her mother's eyes. "I can't go on pretending like everything is going to be absolutely fine. It's silly playing pretend. I hate it."

"Pippa-

"Fine," Thaddeus spoke suddenly, interrupting his wife abruptly, not lifting his eyes to meet anyone else's, "you may go if you wish, Pippa."

"Teddy!" Hester spoke indignantly as she frowned.

"Thank you." Pippa nodded curtly, before pushing her chair backwards and quickly departing from the table.

Hester simply shook her head in despair, leaned forward towards the table, and buried her head into her hands. Seeing his wife's grief, Thaddeus slowly and comfortingly reached over to touch her shoulder.

Jack winced as his bare feet hit the cold ground. He immediately shivered as a cold draft swept viciously across his chest. Jack Overland Frost was as cold as hell.

It was such an unnatural feeling though - being cold that is. The frigid air surrounding him made him feel so empty, void of everything. And that depressed him immensely. Then again, he had always known that winter had two sides: one of joy and fun, and another of death and cold.

The familiar sound of crunching snow drew him away from his thoughts; and he peered through the darkness in search of the said sound. Unfortunately, the sun had long hidden away into the mountain tops, so no light aided Jack in his furtive search.

"Hello?" Jack called out through chattering teeth. As expected, he received no answer. He frowned at this. "Look, I'm really not in the mood for playing hide n' seek..." Actually, now that he thought about it, the prospect of the game sounded fun. He smiled at his quirkiness.

"Jack?" a masculine voice questioned lightly in the direction of the frosted trees that were situated to his left.

"Who's there?" Jack questioned rather loudly, turning in the direction of the voice with his muscles becoming tense.

"Wow," the voice continued with a low whistle, "you still seem quite chipper for a person who nearly drowned."

"What?" Jack blinked in surprise, before his frown returned. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

"Woah, woah!" the masculine voice stuttered in surprise (and in a distinctly British accent) as his small figure appeared out from the darkness. "It's just me, Jack! And in case you haven't noticed, I was so bloody worried about you that I snuck out of my house just to see you!"

"Huh?" Jack blinked in surprise as he was suddenly pulled into a tight bear-hug.

"And, is there any reason why you're speaking like a buffoon for?" the hugger questioned in a light-tone, as he pulled himself back so that he could see Jack's face in its entirety.

Jack took this opportunity to assess the person in front of him. Much to his dismay (or was it surprise?), due to the thick bundle of brown fur wrapped tightly around the man's body, Jack could not make out any of his features in the least.

"Chewbacca?" Jack frowned, perplexed as he backed away from the fur-bundled creature. "Wait, who are you?"

"Please tell me that you're joking." the bundled-figure pleaded in a rather posh manner. "It's me, Jack. You're old mate!"

The familiar tone of speech struck Jack with nostalgia. He had known this person when he was alive and well (and over 300 years ago). But no matter how hard he tried, he could not recall who in the world the bundled-figured was. Maybe if he could catch a glimpse of the said figure's face...

"I'm pretty sure that I would remember if I was friends with Chewbacca's brother." Jack stated promptly with a cocky smile, a hint of sarcasm trailing from his light and peppy words.

"C-Chewbacca?!" the man, now dubbed by Jack as 'Chewbacca', started in complete and utter confusion. "And what the bloody hell is Chewbacca?" He paused for a moment as if trying to find words to describe his befuddlement, before continuing on in an oblivious and dramatic tone, "Jack, please don't tell me that this 'oddness' is an after-effect of your...drowning experience! If it is, I have no one to pull pranks on other hapless saps with! I mean, you were a prick sometimes - well, most of the time - however, the world wouldn't be the same without you!"

"Y'know, Chewbacca," Jack laughed lightly with a raised eyebrow as he leaned against the ledge of the bathing room window, "I'm not sure whether I want to smack you, appreciate you, or send you to an institution right now."

"And his bluntness remains!" Chewbacca exclaimed, hands outstretched towards the sky. "Thank you, great Lord!"

"Uhmm, right..."

"Now, would you mind telling me why you're bloody naked?" the furry, young man questioned indignantly, peering at Jack's mildly amused face. As Chewbacca did this, a flash of worry suddenly invaded his expression. "Blimey! You have a fever, Jack! You can't be out here and wandering about!"

Jack waved him off nonchalantly, "It's just a small cold."

The former frost spirit suddenly found himself being tackled to the ground by the enormous bundle of fur; and he shouted a yelp of indignation as his back collided with the frosted grass that littered the ground.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?!" Jack growled, maneuvering himself along the icy ground in an attempt to push Chewbacca off of him. "Get off!"

"Just. Stay. Still. Mate!" Chewbacca huffed between deep breaths. The furry young man was currently groping Jack's upper body in a very provocative manner, rubbing his mittened hands all over the former frost spirit's chest.

"Wha?!" Jack blurbed in heated anger. (The memories of battling Night-Mares and Pitch himself had begun to flood into his mind.)"Wha-Just, just..." He grabbed Chewbacca's shoulder gruffly as he platformed his feet on the the furry man's chest, "Get off of me!" With that warring cry having been shouted, Jack kicked his furry friend gruffly in the air and pulled himself up into an unbalanced stand.

The sound of body against snow soon reverberated through the still winter air, causing Jack to wince slightly. He peered out into the darkness once more and saw a small figure laying unsightly in the white snow. The small figure strangely appeared to be even smaller than before; and that was when Jack noticed that he was now bundled in soft coat of fur. His eyes immediately widened. Chewbacca had been trying to put one of his many coats onto Jack.

"You're crazy, man!" Jack said in an exasperated and worried tone as he ran to Chewbacca's side. He knelt down in the frigid snow, noting with pride at how it sparkled like diamonds, and shook the young man lightly. "Hey, are you okay?"

"If you're wondering if I am perfectly and absolutely fine after being flung lit'rally half-way across the bloody sky," Chewbacca muttered, his warm breath creating puffs of fog in the sky, "then, blimey, I would inform you yes!"

"You're insane." Jack muttered breathlessly as an amused smirk crawled up his rosy cheeks.

"Says the one who is bloody wandering out in the cold," Chewbacca retorted as he sat up frowning.

Since Chewbacca had lost a layer of his clothing, Jack was now able to make out his facial features. Bright green eyes met Jack's own and head of messy blonde hair greeted him warmly through a layer of frosted snow. He looked like an elvish fairy, Jack decided promptly after assessing the boy's petite features with delicate assurance. And the former frost spirit did not recognize him in the least bit. This fact caused his heart to plummet.

"Is there any profound reason for why you're currently gazing at me like a lunatic for?" Chewbacca questioned, edging away from Jack's gaze. (The former Guardian had been progressively coming closer to Chewbacca's face with an awed gaze plastered all over his fair face.)

"I was just wondering if this is what Chewbacca looks like under all that fur." Jack answered promptly with a hint of sarcasm as he gestured towards Chewbacca's face.

"Jackson," the boy muttered quietly under his breath as he gazed deep into Jack's glowering brown eyes, "do... do you even know who I am?" Chewbacca flustered a bit for a moment as if he was trying his best to draw out the correct words to describe what was currently on his mind, "Madame Antionne stopped by our house earlier and she said that... that you were having memory problems." A sad look crossed the boy's cheery expression; and Jack suddenly found himself recalling his duty as a Guardian.

"Of course I know who you are!" Jack nodded reassuringly as he placed a hand on the boy's blonde head. "You're my... my mate!"

"Then why are you treating me like a child and a complete and utter stranger?" Chewbacca questioned calmly. He had suddenly gained the poise of a well-mannered adult; and his cheery banter had almost completely faded.

Because you are child, Jack noted quietly to himself, at least, to me you are-

"You're not Jack."

Huh?

"Uh, yes I am."

"No, you're clearly not."

"Yes, I clearly am."

"Nope."

"YES."

"Non."

"Si."

What was this kid on anyways? He was Jack afterall. Well, he wasn't 'that' Jack, rather he was 'the current' Jack... If that made any sense...? Anyways, was there that much of a difference between the Jack of three-hundred-years ago and the Jack of now? If not, the child before him was oddly perceptive.

"Then, tell me, 'Jack'," the blonde boy ordered assertively, "What's your older brother's name?"

Ha! That was obviously a trick question. When Jack had first awakened before his family, he had taken time to count exactly how many members there were (though he wasn't sure whether or not Madame Antionne counted as one); and he had counted exactly five of them. And an older brother was not one of them.

"Ha," Jack laughed to himself with a victorious smile, "I don't have an older brother!"

Chewbacca simply gawked at him in either utter shock or utter horror or maybe both.

Whoops, wrong answer, Jack decided. But... how was that even possible?

"Now that I think about it," Jack fumbled hastily as his mind searched for an escape route, "I might actually be suffering from some memory problems after-

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Chewbacca questioned in a threatening tone as he approached Jack in a predatory manner.

"What- you're crazy!" Jack sputtered indignantly, refusing to back off. He pointed to himself gruffly in the chest. "I'm Jack!"

"Well, I highly doubt that!" the blonde boy shot back heatedly, green eyes igniting like fire.

Oh, god. Was he, Jack Overland Frost, really arguing with a sentimental teenager? When the answer was revealed to him, he nearly facepalmed.

"Look-

"No, you look," the green-eyed boy stated in a stern voice, "you better tell me where the real Jack is, or I'm going to tell the officials!"

Holy shit. This kid was crazy. Flipping crazy. He was off of his 'bloody' rockers! He was so crazy that maybe - just maybe - he would believe the truth of Jack's current situation... No, that in itself was a crazy idea. And Jack, having been isolated for roughly three-hundred-years, was not one to trust people so easily - especially if it involved particularly dangerous matters. Yet... Be it because of his resonance with his current body or the ridiculousness of his current situation, Jack somehow found himself trusting the insane boy.

Interrupting the blonde boy's outrageous rant, Jack began to tell his story.

Harry Kirkland, having listened to his 'best mate's' tale, promptly stood in the winter air with his mouth agape. Delicate, yet oddly wise words had spun out an intricate tale of loss and adventure; and those wise words had came out from none other than Jackson Burgess's mouth. Jackson Burgess, the immature trickster. Jackson Burgess, the playful brother of all the village's children. Jackson Burgess, Harry's best mate.

It was utterly unbelievable... Yet at the same time, Harry found himself captivated by Jackson's - no Jack Frost's - heart-throbbing tale.

"S-So," Harry spoke finally in a quiet voice as his eyes searched for answers, "in this said 'alternate timeline'... you died when you fell through the ice," he glanced up at Jackson who nodded haphazardly, "and you became a winter spirit... but you lost all of your memories?"

"Sounds about right." Jack smiled quirkily.

"And you didn't know who you were for three-hundred-bloody-years!" Harry repeated in complete awe. "And... And Santa Claus is really real?" His expression brightened when Jack nodded. "I knew it! We should tell Arthur all about it- I mean you can bloody imagine the look on his face when-

Jack's face became crestfallen at the mention of 'Arthur'; and the sudden look of lonliness and sadness struck Harry deeply. Never before had he seen such a depressive expression etched onto Jackson's face.

"Oh, well, I suppose you don't exactly remember Arthur," Harry muttered quietly as he kicked the snow loosely aside.

"So, you believe my story?" Jack inquired rather hopefully, the lively and bright spark returning in his warm brown eyes.

"Of course I do!" Harry reassured hastily, truth evident in his tone. "But, well, I'm sort of bummed that, of all people, you would choose to forget me."

"I didn't choose to forget."

It was odd. The sad tone in Jackson's voice had returned - a tone that had never showed itself before. But then again, this was the Jackson of the future. It wouldn't make sense if he didn't change a little bit, right?

"Oh, that's right..." Harry murmured apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Jack simply waved him off. "So what's your name, anyways?"

"Harry," Harry answered brightly, "Harry Kirkland." He paused before adding, "I was your role model and you were my servant."

"Right..." Jack nodded, unconvinced. A smile suddenly crawled its way up his rosy face; and when Harry saw it, he felt relieved. "Hey, Harry, would y'mind being my wingman and helping me figure out how I got into this weird, trippy situation?"

Harry's face contorted in confusion. He was having a hard time catching up with Jack's soft accent and his odd words. However, before he could even reply, a quiet and feminine voice spoke from the darkness: "What do you mean that you're not Jack?"

The two jittery adolescents turned to see none other than young Pippa Burgess peering at them from beneath the large evergreen tree.

The humid, howling winds darted over the mountains, down the dried river and barren creeks of the valley, and squeezed themselves through the slightly open door of the gold-gilded monastery. The brass iron doors blasted open and slammed themselves back onto the iron-laiden walls as the boiling wind suddenly increased in volume. Colonel Oiendem Faust, who had been self-admittedly dozing off on the job, fell to the floor from his hoistered-chair abruptly with his unfinished paperwork following him down.

"Well now, Colonel Oiendem, I certainly did not oversee you sleeping on duty..."

Standing in front of the now ajar doors stood the smirking General of the H-3 Division. The commanding officer was adorned in his usual war-wear. And just as usual, the overbearing white hooded-cloak with the embroidered scarlet patterns (It was the main indication of the General's rank, for all generals wore this said cloak with different patterns and colors sewn onto to their hemmings to designate their division.) hung loosely over his face, shrouding his features in dark, sinewy shadows and giving him the appearance of a fiendish reaper.

"And you certainly did not see me come here, because I am obviously at the regulation meeting." the General continued coyly, swinging his legs over Oiendem's desk. He reached out to pick up a collection of paper-clipped documents with his white gloved-hands and leafed through them briefly, before altogether dropping the said documents and smiling lightly. "Am I right?"

The colonel frowned blatantly as he snatched the falling papers out of the air and placed them delicately onto his desk. "If you're assuming that I will willingly step in and lie for you about a problem that is your own fault, I must apologize, but I believe you're horribly mistaken, General."

The general waved him off,"Cut the formalities, Oiendem." He paused for a moment and allowed an uncomfortable silence to fall into place before continuing: "I am actually here to inform you that you've recently been added to my division."

"What?" Oiendem questioned abruptly, straightening himself up and scrutinizing his superior in hopes that he was playing a coy joke. The general shook his head once, before pulling out a black parcel from his cloak and handing it to the colonel. The colonel didn't make a move to take the parcel; he simply stared at it. "B-But... I didn't sign up for this."

"You were drafted." the General informed.

"But I wasn't enlisted." Oiendem insisted in an almost pitifully pleading voice.

"I've already informed your Lieutenants of your transfer." the General shook him off, a small smile playing on his lips before he shrugged it off. "There isn't any time for farewells. We have to leave now."

"But, I have a fami-

"If you have any problems on this matter," the General hissed brightly, his voice adopting a harsh undertone and his good-natured attitude fading almost completely, "I recommend that you tell the head of the H-numbered divisions, because I assure you that he will at least let you leave his presence alive..."

The colonel stared wide-eyed at the cloaked-general as he felt the air around him begin to waver with blistering heat.

"...Just kidding." the General finished playfully. He abruptly turned his head towards the lower officer, smile faltering. "But you really are required to come though."

"W-What's," the colonel swallowed the lump in his throat, "What's the re-con mission?"

The General stared at him for a moment from behind his light cloak, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small-clear capsule. Inside of the said capsule glittered pure-white sand. The commanding officer suddenly tossed the capsule nonchalantly to the colonel who hastily caught it and clasped it tightly within his war-roughened hands.

"This is..." Oiendem whispered, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He glanced up at the general for reassurance; and when he received none of the sort, he frowned: "This is part of the Exodus Project. Father Time's sand?"

"So you have been studying." the General stated bluntly before swiping the bottle of sand from the colonel's hands. "The briefing papers are in the packet-" (The colonel furtively glanced at the parcel clenched in his right hand.) "-but, just for the fun of spoiling it for you," the General tucked the capsule deep into his pocket, "we're going to be taking a fieldtrip to the twenty-first century."

[Author's Inbox]

Mystery Girl Who Writes: Oh, your prediction is right... When Jackson finds out... /shivers.

Kiomori: Alright! I took your idea into mind ;3. And OMG. I love Doctor Whoo! Art thou a Whovian? /shot. AND. AND. The wibbly, wobbly time stuff will be explained in later chapters. ;33

Alluring Alliteration: Oh, yes. Polite!Jack is a weird Jack. Annnnd, thank ya! ;3 Your review means a lot.

LightMyBulb: So do I! /fangirl

theKyra: Ohhh. That part. The town of Burgess was actually founded in the 1780s... so I sort of wanted to follow through with my plot in a historically accurate manner... But that sort of messed up the 'three-hundred-years old' part too, I guess. Ah, well... Just pretend that little blurb didn't happen?

Lacie's Tune: Thank you! /pats on the head. And... do you happen to like Pandora Hearts by any chance?

XxSpiritWolfxX: Thank you! And I'll actually make a couple of chapters where their POV's merge. /nodnod. ;e

blakkyu: Yup, yup! And thanks! ;33

Saka moon: I will show a chapter where Jackson plays the piano, actually. I have this whole angsty!plot idea for it too! And thanks! ;3 Your review means a lot. I'm glad that you're interested in le story :D.

Higashiyama-san: And here's an update for chu!... Though it wasn't 'ASAP" Dx

springsamurai: I think the correct word is 'adorkable' XD

SokkasFirstFangirl: I knows! /clings to Jackson. And that's awesome!

Az The Dragon: Dont worry. I haz this allll planned out. /devious smile. And I'm glad that this piqued your interests! ;o

The White Grim: Thank ya' very much! And ohhh, really? The norse name thingy for him is 'Jokul Frosti' or something, right?

comfychairs: Alrighty!

anon000: Lol, I'm glad that I humored you. /bows... And.. I'm not very good at making summaries so I guess that's expected Dx.

The Dp Fangurl: Aww... I got second place? /emo-corner. and Thank you! ;D I was afraid that I made Jack a little bit OOC

TheBetraylKnowsMyName: Awesomeness ;3. I've only read like a couple chapters of it, but still... and thanks!

StellarBound: Thank you.. but Jackson is mineee. /clings. And yes, Jack will be pretty jarred up. D:

all-star102938: Yes, I will! Maybe in a couple of chappies though...

A/N: Bluh, sorry for the rushed-ness of this chapter. I'm trying my best to update quickly and I have a lot of projects piling up and BLUH. /dies.