Disclaimer: See initial chapter.

A/N: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, and probably too much little Juan-centeredness. Mentions the movie, Frozen, and characters from that movie.

"I'm bored," Alex said, sighing heavily, and resting his head in his hands as he stared out of the front window at the gathering snow. School had been canceled because of the snow, and it was so deep that they couldn't even go outside and have snowball fights or make snowmen.

Juan climbed up on the window seat beside Alex and pressed as close to the frosted glass as he could without actually touching the window.

"Me too," he said, and tried to imitate Alex's sigh. His breath fogged the window. Wide-eyed, Juan took a quick look behind them, and seeing that it was just him, Alex, and Filip, he quickly wiped the foggy area with the palm of his hand.

"What's bored?" Juan asked after a minute, forehead scrunched in thought as he turned to look at his best friend, and brother, Alex.

It was Filip who answered instead. The older boy settled onto the window seat on the other side of Juan, and tousled Juan's curls. There was an almost smile on his face, which was very rare for the broody boy who'd lost, not just his parents when he'd been placed in foster care, but his younger siblings.

"It's when you ain't got nothin' to do, and you wanta be doing something else, but you can't, because it's snowing," Filip explained.

"Oh." Juan frowned, and he pressed the palm of his hand to the frosted glass, amazed at the way that little crackles of ice, like tiny snowflakes, formed around the shape of his hand. He knew he shouldn't get the window dirty, because then it would need to be cleaned, and he didn't want to make extra work for Miss Gemma or Mr. John, but it was pretty, and he liked the feel of the cold, smooth glass beneath the palm of his hand.

Alex sighed, and he pulled Juan's hand away from the window. The ice crystals crackled, and filled in the space where Juan's hand had been. It was like magic.

"You're gonna catch a cold like that," Alex scolded, voice gruff, and yet gentle at the same time. "Don't wanna die, do ya?"

Juan bit his lip and looked down at the palm of his hand. It was cold, and red, and he wondered if the cold would spread up his arm, and into whatever part of his body it was that colds came from. He shook his head fiercely. He didn't want to die. Not now that he had Alex and Filip and Clay and Miss Gemma and Mr. John and Uncle Bobby.

"Relax, you ain't gonna die," Filip said, carefully placing an arm over Juan's shoulders, aware that Juan didn't like to be touched unexpectedly. None of them did.

Juan tensed up, and then relaxed when Filip gave his shoulders a slight squeeze. Juan was still looking at his hand, as though it was as fascinating as the ice crystals that had been created by the warmth of it as he'd pressed it against the cold window.

"That's how my little brother died," Alex said, voice so soft that Juan and Filip had to lean in close to hear it. "He caught cold, 'cause he was left outside too long."

Juan patted Alex's arm with the hand he'd been staring at. His brows and lips were pinched together and his brown eyes were shining.

"He was light blue," Alex added in a whisper, tracing the outer edge of the mark that Juan's hand had left on the glass. His eyes were fixed on something that neither Filip nor Juan could see, and his lips were turned downward.

"Like Anna when Elsa akidentally frozed her?" Juan asked, voice subdued.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, 'cept he never woke up."

"Sowry." Juan hugged Alex tightly, and Filip reached across Juan to do the same.

Alex, who typically avoided anything that he deemed 'too girly' or 'wussy', leaned into the touch, and seemed to melt against Juan. He sniffed, but didn't cry.

"You got us now," Filip declared. They were all familiar with loss, but he knew what it felt like to lose a sibling.

Juan nodded. "Yeah. You're my bestest brudder and friend."

"Hey, what about me?" Filip asked, only half kidding.

"You too," Juan answered seriously, brown eyes wide. "Hey, hey, hey, do you wanna build a snowman?" Juan bounced up and down on the window seat as he sang the words to the all too familiar song. It was one of his favorite songs, and he sang it often.

"It's too cold, an' the snow's too deep," Alex said.

"Oh yeah," Juan remembered, slumping between Filip and Alex.

"I wonder if there's anyone in here who would like some hot chocolate?" Miss Gemma's voice caused all three of them to jump, and turn away from the now completely fogged up window.

"Can we watch, Anna and Elsa?" Juan asked as he scrambled down from the window, earlier unhappiness seemingly forgotten, though he did turn around to grab Alex's hand and pull him down from the window.

"Now, that depends, how does everyone else feel about watching, Frozen?" Miss Gemma asked, biting her lip to keep from adding the word, again.

Filip shrugged and pushed off of the window seat to join the others. He didn't love the movie like Juan did, and had almost memorized all of the lines, but there were worse movies the little boy could have requested, and days like this were more about entertaining the little kids than anything else. It might also help take Alex's mind off of the death of the little brother that he'd never spoken of before.

"Sure, why not?" Filip voiced.

"What about you, Alex?" Miss Gemma asked in a quiet voice that indicated she had overheard their conversation at the window, but wasn't going to press for more details. Not yet, maybe not ever. She was good at waiting.

Juan practically vibrated as he waited in eager anticipation. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands clasped behind his back. The little boy was holding his breath as he waited for his idol's answer.

"Okay," Alex said, not quite meeting Miss Gemma's eyes as he dug his toes into the carpet. "I'm bored anyway." When he looked up, his eyes were shining.

"Come, help me with the hot chocolate," Miss Gemma said, holding her hand out to Alex who took it without making his usual fuss about holding a girl's hand. "Filip, why don't you help Juan get the DVD player set up?"

"Can we have mashmarlows too?" Juan asked.

Miss Gemma chuckled and nodded. "How about a candy cane to stir up the chocolate with, and some popcorn?"

Juan's eyes nearly popped out of his face and he squealed with delight. He launched himself at Miss Gemma and hugged her around the legs, nearly causing her to fall over, and making Alex laugh, though it was a very wet sounding laugh.

"Yes, yes, yes." Juan squeezed her legs tightly. "Please," he hastily added, pulling back and craning his neck to peer up at her. He had a wide, gap-toothed smile on his face that was contagious.

Miss Gemma laughed and bent down to kiss his forehead. "Tell you what, Alex and I will get the goodies ready while you and Filip set up the living room. How does that sound?"

"Can we make a fort?" Juan asked, tilting his head to the side, and giving her big, doe eyes. When he was older, fathers of his dates were going to greet him at the front porch with a shotgun in hand.

Sighing, and knowing that she'd been had, Miss Gemma nodded. She'd survived many snow days before. Young boys with bottled up energy, cooped up in the house, could be a handful on the best of days.

For the sake of entertaining her boys, she'd willingly let her living room become a casualty. It beat the alternative - repeated choruses of: "I'm bored," and, "There's nothing to do," or, "Why can't I go outside and play?"

"I'll go get the blankets from our room!" Juan shouted, and he tore out of the room at a dead run, colliding with Clay who'd decided to venture downstairs to get a snack, before returning to his gaming. He was still in his pajamas, his hair was disheveled, and he looked a little bleary eyed.

"Oomph." Clay scowled down at Juan, but helped the little boy up without a word.

"Clay, we're making a fort, an' we're gonna watch Anna an' Elsa, an' drink hot choc'late wif mashmarlows, an' canny canes." Juan strung the words together without taking a single breath, and Clay blinked at him as he tried to process the little boy's words.

"Sounds like fun, kid," Clay said, scratching at his head as he made to move around the little boy and head to the kitchen. Juan's hand snagged the sleeve of his pajama top, forcing him to stop, though.

"You can play too," Juan said, voice hopeful, doe eyes at full power.

Clay gave Miss Gemma a pleading look, but she just smirked and raised an eyebrow in challenge. A quick look at Alex revealed that something was bothering the kid, and Clay reluctantly nodded. He was stuck on a level anyway, might be good to get a break from the game he'd been playing for the past five plus hours.

"Alright, I'll go get the blankets and pillows from mine and Filip's room." Clay tried to put as much enthusiasm in his voice as he could, and didn't resist when Juan grabbed his hand and pulled him back toward the stairs he'd just descended.

Miss Gemma's smile gave Clay the added incentive that he needed as he let Juan lead him up the stairs at a pace that left him winded when they got to the top. He then proceeded to race Clay down the hallway to the bedroom that he and Alex shared, which was directly across from the bedroom that Clay and Filip shared. Clay pretended to 'race' the little boy, but didn't have to pretend to lose.

Juan seemed to have more energy than twenty people combined; being trapped inside the house on a cold winter day didn't help matters. Playing outside helped to burn off some of the little boy's energy, and Clay knew that once it was warm enough, he'd be outside building a fort, or making a snowman with Juan and the other boys. He'd do it to help out Miss Gemma, if for no other reason, and, because maybe it wasn't so bad to watch out for the younger boys.

Juan came out of the bedroom that he shared with Alex, arms piled up with blankets and pillows. The only part of him that could be seen were his feet. Blankets trailed on the floor behind him, and Clay stifled a laugh.

"Here, let me help, Juice," Clay offered, using the little boy's nickname.

"I got 'em." Juan's voice was muffled by the bedclothes, but there was no mistaking the pride in it.

Clay rolled his eyes, and took a couple of the blankets from the little boy anyway. He ignored Juan's indignant protest, and ruffled the little boy's hair, gaining a glare of protest in response.

"Hey!" Juan pouted.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs, and Filip ran down the hall, coming to a skidding halt in front of them. "What's taking you two so long?" he asked as he took a pillow from Juan, and brushed past Clay to gather a few more blankets.

"That's my piwow!" Juan stomped his foot. His face had started to turn red, and Clay knew that he had to get the little boy's attention diverted before he lost his temper. It was a rare event, but it was never a good thing when Juan got angry, because the little boy would throw a fit, and no one would be able to get through to him once it started.

"Juice, lets get these pillows and blankets downstairs and start making the fort," Clay said.

Juan's eyes flicked toward Clay. They were dark and stormy, and filled with something that Clay didn't understand, but it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He pulled the only card that he had left to play. The only card that ever seemed to work with Juan whenever he got worked up about something. The Alex card. The little boy practically worshipped Alex, and, to a smaller degree, the rest of them, but it was Alex who seemed to hang the moon and the stars for Juan.

"C'mon, Juice, Tig and Miss Gemma are waiting for us," Clay said, placing emphasis on the nickname for Alex.

Juan's shoulders slumped and he lost the defiant look. "I wan' my piwow back."

"You'll get your pillow back; Filip's just gonna help you carry it down," Clay said, borrowing patience from Mr. John's example.

"I'm not a baby," Juan said, eyes shining.

"No, you're not." Clay wondered how the Tellers could be so patient with all of them; dealing with crap like this was not easy. "But the sooner we get all of this stuff downstairs, the sooner we can get the fort built, and the sooner we can start the movie."

"Here ya go," Filip said, plopping the pillow back onto Juan's pile of bedding. "The last one down the stairs is a rotten egg!"

Juan started running after the other boy, earlier anger apparently forgotten in the chase. Clay followed after the two, watching out for Juan who kept tripping over the trailing bedding that he insisted on carrying by himself.

That Juan made it down the stairs in one piece was nothing short of a miracle as far as Clay was concerned. He didn't realize that he'd been holding his breath until he handed off the blankets to a waiting Filip.

"We got fort construction under control here, if you want to go and help Miss Gemma and Tig with the hot cocoa," Filip said, and there was something in his voice that alerted Clay to the fact that not everything was as simple as it had seemed when he'd left the cocoon of his room for food.

Clay nodded. "Okay, if you've all got it under control here."

"We got it, Clay," Juan said, pushing him out of the room as he turned his attention back to Filip and the large assortment of blankets, pillows and cushions that were already strewn all over the living room.

Filip had been busy before joining them upstairs to help gather more materials. The living room, to the eyes of anyone other than a child, was in complete shambles. Not a cushion was in its proper place, and the furniture had been rearranged to make the construction of a fort easier.

Clay gladly took his leave of the two, and made his way to the kitchen, holding back when he caught the sound of subdued voices. He peeked inside the kitchen. Alex was sitting on the counter, legs swinging as he talked to Miss Gemma who was stirring a pot of something, probably the hot cocoa that Filip had mentioned. He felt like an intruder, yet was frozen to the spot, unable to move as he listened to Alex talk about a little brother that Clay had not heard of before.

"He was always crying all the time," Alex said. "An' wouldn't shut up. An'..." Alex bit his lip. His mouth twisted in pain, and possibly anger. He took a deep breath and shuddered.

Miss Gemma's hand didn't falter as she stirred the milk for the hot cocoa. Her lips were pursed, and her eyes were shiny, but she didn't interrupt, or prompt Alex to finish his sentence.

"An' it was my fault," Alex whispered, voice choked. "I didn't want him, 'cause he was so small an' I couldn't play with him, an' he was always cryin', an'..."

"It wasn't your fault," Clay cut in, feet propelling him forward of their own volition. He had no idea what the little boy was blaming himself for, but knew, in his heart, that whatever had happened to his brother wasn't Alex's fault.

"I should'a looked out for him," Alex said, turning his big blue eyes toward Clay. "He was so small, an' he was my respons-bil-ty."

Clay shook his head, and placed a hand on the boy's knee. "Nah, he was your parent's responsibility, not yours," Clay said, certain of his answer.

"Clay's right, sweetie," Miss Gemma agreed. "What happened to your little brother wasn't your fault."

Alex looked from Clay to Miss Gemma and then back again, searching their faces for any falsehood. He never took anything at face value, and didn't trust anything or anyone easily. He'd been lied to most of his life, but had always trusted what his father had said, and he'd blamed him for Timmy's death, saying that Alex, as his big brother, should have reminded him to let him in the house after his punishment was over. Alex had forgotten, though, and it had been so cold. Timmy had died a few days later, and Alex's father had blamed him for it.

"I forgot about him," Alex confessed. He was looking at his hands, which were clasped together. "How could I forget about him?" He raised his eyes to Miss Gemma, and held his breath.

"Oh, baby," Miss Gemma said. Her voice was thick, and she took the pan of warmed milk off the burner, and pulled him into a hug. "I'm so sorry about what happened."

She released him, and kissed him on the cheek, wiping off the smear of lipstick. Her eyes reflected the way that Alex felt, and he wiped at his eyes. He didn't want to cry. Crying was for babies, and he wasn't a baby. He was in first grade, and first graders didn't cry.

"You didn't forget him," Clay said, his voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away, and Alex latched onto it. "He's right there," Clay said, and he tapped on Alex's chest. "In your heart. Like my mom and dad, and Filip's brother and sisters are. He'll always be there."

Alex thought about it, and nodded, a sudden warmth filling his chest at Clay's words. He did remember Timmy, sometimes at the oddest of times, though he tried never to talk about him, or think about him for too long, because he didn't want to remember how his little brother had died, and he didn't want to cry, or to hurt.

"And we'll always be there, too," Clay said, tapping Alex's chest again. "Because you've got a big heart."

Alex rubbed at the spot that Clay had touched. It ached, but not because of Clay. It ached, because, today, when Juan had put his hand on the window, Alex remembered what had happened to Timmy, and he was afraid that he'd lose Juan like that too. That he wouldn't be a good enough big brother to him. That, like Elsa had accidentally frozen her sister when they were playing, he'd do something like that to Juan.

It scared him, and made his heart feel funny, and it made him miss Timmy. And that made him feel guilty, because he loved Juan, and the brothers that he had with the Tellers, more than he loved Timmy.

"You've got a very big heart, Alex," Miss Gemma agreed. "And you're a very good brother."

"One of the best," Clay said, nudging his foot.

"But...what if I make a mistake?" Alex asked, voicing one of his biggest worries.

"We all make mistakes," Clay said, shrugging. "You can't live your whole life afraid to make mistakes."

"Clay's right, honey." Miss Gemma squeezed Alex's shoulder. "While we all make mistakes, it wasn't your fault that your little brother died, and you're not responsible for Juan, or Filip or Clay's wellbeing. That's what John and I are here for, to take care of all of you."

Miss Gemma gave him a quick hug, and then, with a gleam in her eye, she pointed toward the cabinets behind him. "Now, hand me the mugs for the hot chocolate before the milk gets cold. Clay, can you put the popcorn in the microwave, and put it into the big bowls when it's done?"

Clay nodded, and Alex got up on his knees to reach for the mugs. He spied Juan's favorite first, and smiled as he pulled the Anna mug down off the shelf. His own favorite mug had Spiderman on it, and was right next to Juan's. Clay's came next, it had some kind of motorcycle on it, and the words, Harley Davidson. Filip's mug featured The Flash, and had a cool lightning bolt on it.

"You need any help in here?" Filip practically skated into the room on his socks, clinging to the doorway so that he wouldn't fall as he collided with the wall. "Juice an' I got the fort all set up."

"You can help carry the hot chocolate when it's poured," Miss Gemma said. "Where's Juice?"

"He's in there fluffing pillows or something," Filip said, shrugging. "And singing the song." He rocked back on his heels, eyes going wide.

"Well, when it warms up, all of you can go outside and build snowmen," Miss Gemma said, gesturing for Filip to take a mug of hot chocolate that had a candy cane for a stir stick.

Clay groaned, but he was smiling, and Filip looked like he'd rather start singing. Filip didn't like to spend much time outside in the cold snow, but he was really good at making snowmen, and always helped Alex and Juan put the different parts together. He was real good at making sure the snowmen they built looked 'presentable'.

Alex jumped off the counter like Spiderman. He felt better, though he was still a little sad, and worried that he'd do something wrong, and that Juan would end up like Timmy if he didn't look out for him good enough.

He stretched up on his tiptoes to grab his and Juan's mugs, careful to hold them by the handle after Miss Gemma had finished filling them with cocoa, marshmallows and added a candy cane to each of them. She'd given Juan one of the multicolored ones that he liked. It tasted fruity, instead of pepperminty.

"You got those okay?" Clay asked, he had his hands full of popcorn bowls. Alex shot him a glare over the top of the hot chocolates.

"I'm not a baby," Alex said, and he walked, very carefully, to the living room.

Clay rolled his eyes, and said, "I know you ain't a baby. Just offering to help."

Alex had to blink a couple of times when he entered the living room, because he couldn't believe his eyes. Filip and Juan hadn't made a fort of blankets and pillows, they'd made a fortress. It was awesome, and Alex felt his heart lifting a little when he heard Juan singing, "Do you wanna build a snowman?"

When Juan spotted him, he stopped singing, and launched himself at Alex, nearly causing the hot cocoa to go flying when he tackled him in a hug as though it had been days, not minutes, since they'd last seen each other. Of course, that was how Juan greeted him after he'd been at school all day, and Juan had been at home with the babysitter.

Juan dragged Alex over to a spot that was deep within the fortress of blankets and pillows, and only a little of the hot chocolate spilled along the way. He then rushed out of the tent to help Filip and then Clay and Miss Gemma navigate the caverns of what once used to be a living room, to their designated spots, before settling onto a large cushion, right beside Alex.

It didn't miss Alex's, or anyone else's, attention that he and Juan had the best seats in the house for viewing the movie. Though the others could see the large TV just fine from where Juan had seated them, they weren't front and center, like he and Alex were. No one said anything about it, though.

Popcorn was passed around, hot chocolate was sipped, and, at the behest of Juan, songs were sung. Miss Gemma's voice was beautiful, and Alex thought that maybe he could listen to her sing the rest of his life; for some reason, it made him feel safe. Clay and Filip's voices were kind of rusty sounding, whereas Juan's was strong and clear. He sang at the top of his lungs, and without reservation; Alex wished he could be that brave.

Juan clung to him during the 'scary' parts of the movie. Even though he'd seen it countless times before, Juan always seemed to be moved by what happened in the movie every time he watched it, as though he was watching each subsequent viewing of the movie with a fresh pair of eyes, which was kind of how he approached life.

Tensing up and reaching for Alex when Elsa accidentally hit her sister with a magic burst of freezing cold air that nearly stole her life; sitting on his knees and leaning forward, urging Elsa to leave her room and build a snowman with Anna, and looking at Alex with eyes that seemed to be asking him what he'd do in Elsa's place, if Juan had been the one begging to play; laughing hysterically whenever Olaf said something silly...

By the end of the movie, they were both lying on their bellies, Juan was leaning heavily against Alex, fighting off sleep, eyelids drooping, upper lip bearing a chocolate and marshmallow moustache. He had an arm draped over Alex; the other was clutching an Olaf plushie that he'd gotten for Christmas. It was his favorite toy, and Alex was his favorite person.

"I love you, 'Lex," Juan said around a yawn.

Alex's heart skipped a beat as Timmy's face swam before him before disappearing in the blink of an eye. Alex watched as Anna sacrificed herself for her sister, heart pounding in his chest, and tears welling in his eyes, though he, too, had seen this movie too many times to count. Juan was squeezing both Alex and his stuffed Olaf tightly as magic brought Elsa back to life and Olaf declared, "An act of true love will thaw a frozen heart."

It was magic, though, and magic wasn't real, but Juan, and the Tellers and Clay and Filip were, and they loved him. They told him as much almost every single day.

"I love you, too," Alex whispered, daring to believe, though Juan's eyelids had lost the battle to remain open, and the sound of light snores, rather than music, came from his lips.

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