All That Matters

Bunny was injured. It was not the first time he'd been hurt, and the fact that he was injured wasn't truly what worried Jack. No, what worried Jack was his lover's stillness. His painful, quiet stillness, the smallness that was so completely unlike Aster. The large Pooka always seemed to take up so much space with his presence, even when he was being dead quiet. He was strong, he was brave, and when he was in pain, he just brushed it off. Jack knew it was as much for his benefit as it was for Aster's pride. Aster would never allow himself to admit defeat, and would never do anything to worry or unsettle Jack. He cared about Jack too much.

He knew Jack too well too; he knew the winter spite would worry, no matter how carefree he appeared. Aster knew Jack. But then again, Jack knew the Pooka too, probably better than Aster would have liked to admit.

So now, seeing his mate with his ears flattened back against his head, curled in on himself, Jack began to panic. Oh, the wound looked harmless enough, the thin slash of a blade across his side. It looked harmless, but Jack wasn't so sure anymore.

It had bled, and bled badly, until the Pooka had nearly passed out from it, but once North had taken a look at it, stitched him up and bandaged the wound, he'd proclaimed Aster alright. The wound had only been a surface one, and while there'd been blood loss of note, Aster would heal just fine with no permanent damage.

So why was Jack so worried and why did Aster look like he was in so much pain? Jack bent down, stroking the Pooka's long ears. His touch was tender and comforting and he felt Aster lean into it. Jack almost smiled. If only his tough, strong mate knew how adorable he looked when he slept.

He always looked so cute, but usually, his features held peace and contentment. Now they were tight, a mask of pain that the usually stoic rabbit hid well when he was awake. Aster had never passed out on him before.

Heaving a sigh, Jack kissed his ears and pulled himself to his feet. Swinging his staff over his shoulders, Jack inspected the warren. When Aster had fallen asleep at the Pole, Jack had insisted North let him come back here, so that Aster could rest easier. Now, however, Jack was beginning to doubt himself. He didn't know the first thing about making the warren comfortable.

Surveying the layout, he decided that the best thing to do was make a warm nest for Aster to rest in. He knew the one in Aster's burrow was perfect, but it was too far away and he didn't want to move his love too much. Tilting his head and sighing in frustration, Jack decided to get some supplies and just make do.

Grabbing blankets and pillows and comforters, Jack stumbled out of the burrow, groaning under the weight. Any moment now, they'd go flying, and Aster would wake to a jumbled mess, which would probably just piss off the sick rabbit. No, that wouldn't do at all.

Throwing them down on the hill where they rested, Jack gave a sigh and swiped the sweat from his brow. Wow, he must have been exerting himself for that to happen. Who knew Bunny's things were so heavy. Sniggering beneath his breath, his worry subsiding just a little, Jack bunched everything up beneath a tree into a haphazard mess that could possibly pass as a nest. Nodding with satisfaction, proud of his work, Jack turned back to his sleeping love.

Now, to move Aster. No way was Jack going to be able to lift him. The six-foot-one rabbit might have been lean, but muscle mass and height more than made up for it. Aster was heavy. No, Jack would have to find another way. He was just about to give it up as a bad job, and drag Bunny on a plushy comforter, when a gust of wind tickled his hair. Oh, well... duh. Jack blushed, frost covering his nose. Well, for the first time in hours he was glad Aster wasn't awake to see how stupid he was being. Then again, he could always blame the worry. That was the damn truth.

Throwing a concerned glance over at his love, he summoned what little wind he could in the secluded burrow, and guided Aster into bed.

The rabbit let out a groan and Jack was at his side in an instant, all else forgotten, a serious look in the youth's eyes. He looked ok, but the move must have hurt him. Damn, why did Aster have to worry him so badly? And why weren't the painkillers working?

"Shh, shh...'s ok, cottontail..." He whispered in soft support, voice barely more than a breath over the grass, "Just getting you comfy, ok? 's ok...you're gonna...you're gonna be alright...I promise...I promise."

Words of the past echoed in his head and he nodded his resolve. Aster would be fine. He'd said those words to his sister, and she'd survived, even if Jack hadn't. It didn't matter what happened to him, as long as Aster was ok. He wrapped his arms around his love and felt him shiver with cold. Pulling an extra comforter around his fur seemed to settle Aster, and Jack held him again, feeling far too warm amongst the comforters and warm fur of his love, but he pushed his discomfort aside. It didn't matter- as long as Aster was comfortable.

It was strange, having Bunny curl up against him, seeming so much more like the sweet Easter bunny that the world portrayed him as, and less like the powerful Pooka warrior he truly was. But he was a warrior, and he was the bravest one Jack knew at that. That was why Aster was still there with him, letting Jack care for him. It took a lot of bravery to open up your heart, and a lot of bravery to take the wounds that Aster had and survive, and Jack's respect for him had only grown over the years.

He might have teased him about it years before, before he'd understood the depth of his soul, but not now... not now. He understood Aster, and while it was fun to see the Pooka annoyed, he'd become far too important to Jack. He was the most important thing in Jack's whole world. He wanted to protect Bunny and let him know he was loved. He could tease him about other things, but he'd always treasure the fact that the Pooka let him into his heart and soul.

No one had ever done that to Jack before, and Jack had certainly never done it in return, or ever thought that he would. But here he was, and he would forever be grateful to the Pooka- to his mate.

Aster shivered again, and somehow, Jack knew it wasn't from cold. Snapped out of his reverie, Jack stared down with worried eyes as his love's ears twitched in distress and his brow furrowed.

The Pooka was shifting, a look of quiet distress passing his brow. He was upset, his mate was upset and he wasn't sure why. Swallowing in worry and pulling him closer, Jack let cold fingertips ghost his love's brow.

Was he in pain? What was wrong?

It was then that Jack realised it. In the fight with Pitch, had the blade that swiped Aster's side not been made out of nightmare sand and dark shadows? Some of it must have found its way into Aster's consciousness and burrowed in there, unseen. His love was hurting, in a while different way.

Jack gulped and felt his stomach twist into tight, uncomfortable knots. It was hard to breathe past them, but Jack tried his best, in ragged, shallow pants. He had to stop this, he had to help Aster any way he could. He would do anything because Aster was all that mattered.

Mind racing with thoughts, praying with all his heart that this would work, Jack surrounded his mate with his slim form and nuzzled his fur, a light hand across his bandage, willing the nightmares to him, willing the plague of fear onto his own mind and heart, not Aster's. Pitch had always liked Jack's fear more. Why? Jack didn't know. He didn't particularly like getting into the head of that sick bastard, but Pitch seemed to feed all the more on his fear, seemed to take a more sick and perverse pleasure out of it.

So for the first time in years, Jack let him. He let down the walls and felt the fear. The fear of losing Aster, the fear of him growing sick with fever and infection, of losing him in a fight, or losing his mind to Pitch's darkness, the fear of him hurting.

As he felt the nightmares swirl around him, nothing more than wisps of black smoke and darkness, Aster settled and Jack smiled. A little fear of losing his love, of his mate hurting, was nothing, nothing compared to the real thing, and Jack would do everything in his power to keep him safe.

As Aster's form stilled in his arms, and curled up, he felt the painful tensions go out of the Pooka, and saw his brow smooth as Jack cooed, "Sleep, Aster, rest. No more nightmares, Kangaroo..." He smiled affectionately as his own eyes began to grow heavy and dim with the pull of dark sleep, "No more nightmares. Everything's gonna be ok, I promise." And with that, he kissed those beautiful, long ears again, and pulled his mate to his chest. His own eyes slipped shut as they curled together in the makeshift nest of grass and duvets, and for a moment, Jack felt glad.

Because his bunny was ok and that was all that ever mattered.

A/N: I've been working on this for a few days, but I haven't had much time in between studying for Mid-year exams, and dealing with the renovations in our home. I wasn't in much of a studying mood today though, so I finished this. Dedicated to the one I love most.