With his hood pulled up and staff raised, Jack thought he may have looked something like the Grim Reaper. The idea was disturbing, but alas it fitted with the current situation. The situation that he'd been forced to deal with for over three hundred years.

Now don't get Jack wrong, he loved his job. The Man in the Moon couldn't have chosen a better position for the boy. However, being a winter spirit came with its price- and an awfully high one at that. It was laughable, really, how Jack could still do this and maintain his title as "The Guardian of Fun."

He looked down to see a young child stumbling through the cold terrain. The youth had been playing with his friends earlier, but they had left him after the sun began setting. He was the only one who'd stayed. He wanted to play outside for a while longer. After all, the snow was beautiful at this time of year.

But soon enough, the weather turned harsh. Now it would be a tough struggle just to get home. If he could make it, that is. He'd wandered too far off. Did he even know the way back?

Suddenly, the boy stumbled.

Go home, Jack thought, Run away! You have to go on, even if it hurts! It will only get worse if you stop… So please…

The immortal had wanted to warn them so many times. But alas, no one could see him. There was nothing he could do… nothing, that is, except watch and wait for the inevitable to occur. This was the downside of Jack Frost's job. If there was one thing he could change, this would be it. He couldn't help himself, though… General Winter had demands to be met. His opinion didn't matter; it was just how things were. It was the way life worked.

What would the Guardians think if they knew? Would they disown him? Probably. He was supposed to protect the children, not this… Anything but this…

Pitch was delighted when he'd found out. Following his defeat, the Nightmare King had been seething with anger. He watched the Guardians, searching for anything he could use for revenge or blackmail. What he found was even better. This was an all-time low for winter spirit, even if it was his job.

"I never would have expected this from you, Jack… It seems that cold and dark do go well together, after all."

Oh, how badly he'd wanted to wipe that smirk off his face… But the bastard had disappeared before Jack could reach him. If anything, he'd only made things worse. Now Pitch wouldn't leave him alone. He'd often watch in the shadows, listening in as the boy worked. He simply loved what Jack was doing, after all. Darkness was practically radiating off the winter spirit. How could he have missed it before?

Jack hoped he wasn't here now.

The coldness had been unbearable when Jack died. He had never felt so helpless before. The water had frozen his arms and legs, numbing him to the point where he couldn't move. All he remembered was gasping for air, gasping for warmth… and then sinking to the bottom of the lake.

Even when lacking his memories, Jack was terrified of freezing to death. It was strange for someone like him, but the thought of it had horrified him to no end. Just what had happened to his little sister back then? She had been forced to watch. Now he knew why he felt this way. Children didn't deserve to suffer like that.

No, he wasn't killing them; he was merely speeding up the process. He was saving them from a fate worse than deathhis own fate. At least that was what he told himself.

At this point, the young boy was laying face-first in the snow. His breathing had become ragged, and his cheeks were a bright shade of pink. There wasn't much time left now. Jack could tell that the child was nearing his end. His body was writhing with pain on the ground, clearly shaking from the final stages of hypothermia. He had seen it so often in his three hundred years...

The boy looked around, but alas, there were no signs of rescue in the distance. No searchlights, no voices, only the icy chill of the wind. Jack felt he had waited long enough. It was no use to prolong the child's fate.

Tears fell from his eyes in the midst of it all. He was doing to right thing, wasn't he? They shouldn't have to suffer longer… So this was his gift to them. It was the only gift he could provide.

Mercy.


A small oneshot for RotG. This idea occured to me, and I just had to write about it. It's a very sad story. I realize this would never happen in the books or movies, but I figured that I'd write about it nonetheless. Besides, there seems to be a lack of horror in this fandom, no?

Reviews are loved! :)