Jamie looked out his window. Dissapointment clear on his face when he saw nothing but brown roofs and green lawns. No snow. Not even frost on the window. He slid back down onto his bed. His mother suddenly walked in, ready to wake her child up for school.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" She asked as she walked over and put a reassuring hand on his back.

"I was hoping for a snow day. It's December! Why is there no snow?" He pouted. His mother gave a light chuckle and kissed his forehead.

"Jack Frost must have caught a cold this year." Little did she know how right she was. On top of that very roof sat a boy with snow white hair and piercing blue eyes and, out of the ordinary for him, a red nose. He wiped at it as he attempted to condure up a pile of snow on the rooftop. He raised his pale fingers and wiggled them. Little bits of frost came out and slowly grew. It almost became a snowball until he sneezed, the little bits of flurry exploding everywhere and eventually melting. Jack shivered. This wasn't right. Jack was never cold. He WAS the cold, yet, he continued to feel, for the first time in his life since he became Jack Frost, cold. He coughed and rubbed at his eyes. He felt unusually weak. Deciding that maybe he should lie down for a bit, he did so. His heavy eyes closed and he let out a sigh. For the first time in 3 hundred years Jack Frost fell asleep.
Jack awoke to a prodding sensation in his side, his head felt like slush and the world swam. When he spoke, his voice was horse and congested.

"W-what?" He sniffled. A little fairy responded with a squeak. "Hey baby tooth." He grinned sleepily. Baby tooth grabbed his hood and pulled. "What, what's the matter?" He said as he followed the direction of her tug. The wind lifting him up. She waved for him to follow as she speed off into the night. He followed, letting the wind take him with little effort. Unfortunatley, before he knew it he had begun to doze off and nearly ran into a billboard. That is, until Baby tooth bit him in the nose. Which caused him to sneeze. Which caused him to drop out of the sky like a dead bird. Which caused Baby Tooth to nearly have a panic attack while attempting to search for him in the snow. Her wings fluttered in worry as no movement caught her eye. After a full 30 minutes of searching, Baby Tooth came to the conclusion that she would never find him with the amount of land and her size. She rushed off to find Tooth and recieve help, tears beginning to block her vision. This left Jack consumed under 4 feet of snow in Alaska. He hazidly recalled falling, he thought to himself as once again, darkness consumed him. This, in actuality, was not too much of a bad thing, considering who he was. So, he just lay there, shivering, nose running. He remained that way for another 30 minutes. That is, until he heard, once again, a distressed squeak. Except words came after this squeak and soon he was lifted up by...hands? He felt feathers. He was too tired to tell.

Tooth, formerly known as the tooth fairy was in quite a perdiciment. She was in the middle of Alaska, carrying a teenage boy at top speed to the North Pole. To meet Saint Nick. Who liked to be called Santa. Obviously. Quite a perdiciment indeed. Soon ,however, she would recieve help in this situation. She sighed with relief as the giant doors of Santa's workshop came into view. With little effort she flew into the entrance for guardians, such as herself. She was greeted with the smell of peppermint and a heavy Russian accent.

"Hello my little feathered friend! What is it that brings you here-" His grin slipped of his face when he saw what was on the fairy's back. Jack breathed heavily and his naturally pale face was flushed with unhealthy color. These things were troubling to Tooth but the most disturbing thing was the fact that Jack seemed to be almost warm to the touch. The cold himself seemed to be , quite literally, melting away. Santa worridley came up to her.

"What-ah, is wrong with Jack?" He said, puzzlement clear on his large face, brows turned up in concern. Tooth looked, distressed as she let out the words.

"I haven't the slightest clue."

Soon they had Frost in a huge bed, this belonged to one of the yettis. Jack still hadn't awoken and he breathed painfully and deeply, his face pulled into an expression of discomfort. Santa sat in a chair next to the bed as Tooth fluttered around the room. Unsure of what to do, she began tearing the book shelves apart. Santa raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe there's something in here that can help us." Tooth said while flipping through a large one with a red cover. Santa nodded, sure there was not as it was simply a pile of old stories but he felt the fairy could use something to do. He, however, checked on Jack's condition. He felt his forehead, alarmingly warm. Santa pulled away in shock. Warm? Jack? That's ridiculous. His last name is FROST for peete's sake. However, it was true. As was the fact that steam itself had begin emitting from the boy, as the battle between cold and hot raged inside him.