Hey guys have another series/Fanfic. Not sure if it's an series or a series of one shots that follow after one another. I have yet to figure that out. So anyway, here's the first chapter.
WARNING: It is not going to be an happy chapter. Character Death will happen. You have been warned.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rise of the Guardians in any shape or form.
Something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
E. Aster Bunnymund could feel it in his bones and his could feel it on his spine, running at the base to his ears and to his tail. That bad feeling that something was wrong, but he didn't know what it was. He dragged a paw over his face, heading from his nest in the Warren, glancing around quietly.
Maybe it was the silence that was setting him on end? No...that couldn't be it. It was early anyway...Usually it never got too loud until much later in the day. So that couldn't be the reason.
He gave a breath out of his lungs, taking his two boomerrangs from their traditional spot, wiping both of them down before placing them into their proper holders. As he headed threw his burrow, he pulled over his stash, checking his supply as he walked.
What was this dreaded feeling? Did he miss a place in his checklist? No, that wasn't it. He remembered looking it over the entire day yesterday, circling each location that needed a lot of hope that coming Easter.
He frowned deeply, glancing around the Warren as he headed out into the open, looking at the goodies then at the sentals, then around. Everything was at peace, everything in place. There was nothing that wasn't suppose to be there. And it was all...quiet. He paused a moment, glancing around harder, sniffing the air twice.
It was warm.
No winter chill that he got use to being around him, no winter wind that came by in greeting to say hello or how are you. There was nothing. Which only made Aster's gut twing.
Jack Frost was missing.
Normally, he wouldn't be worried about the missing spirit, for in the past he didn't care about him. And yet, that was in past. This was the present, where they made an change for their future and how they were to one another.
"Frostbite?" He called, ears twitching left and right as he took a few steps more into the ever so silent Warren. There wasn't an sound...Not a laughter. Nothing. "Jack? Jack this better not be a joke mate." he called, stopping in his walking.
And still there was nothing. No familiar sound of the frost spirit he called his own.
Just the sound of...chattering goodies?
Aster glanced down at the goodies who were by his feet, twitching on their feet back and forth. "What is it?" he questioned, tone calm an steady. "Did something happen?" He questioned once more, seeing a jerk of a movement which he could only figure is a nod. He swallowed. "Show me." He demanded, not wasting another minute as he followed the goodies directions.
He was led deeper into the tunnels of the Warren, deep where the sun didn't usually reach threw the hand dug cracks in the ceiling. He followed an sental who took over the lead, hearing the occaisonal grunt the old stone made as they headed forward. As they headed deeper, he had to pause to figure out his surrondings, sniffing the air.
And froze in his tracks.
The smell of blood. And from the richness, fresh...and lots of it.
Aster gave a swallow sniffing again praying he wasn't right. Praying to the moon...
"No..." He breathed out in alarm, and dread. He quickly went into a run on all fours, pasting the sental who led him avoiding goodies who had wandered down here. He cursed repeatedly at the darkness, and how deep the smell went. Where did it end?
"Jack! Answer me mate! Jack, where are you?"
If Aster didn't have keen hearing he probably would of missed the sound of his name. He twisted his body in the direction the voice came from, bliking against the gloom of the tunnel. He started foward, smelling the blood smell getting thicker and strong. God, it was suffocating. Utterly disgusting. But Aster then realized that wasn't the worse.
The worse was what Jack, at least it was Jack, looked like.
Jack Frost, in simple terms, was an mess. His once snow white hair and pale skin had red blood stained on the locks and his skin. His once blue sweater and brown pants were torn to pieces, exposing so much skin. He was covered with gashes, each deep and violent...but not as deep as the wound in his lower chest. His staff rested away from his grasp, cracked and damaged.
Aster held back a gag in the back of his throat. God, he felt sick. But he mustn't...not in front of the other. "Jack..." He whispered his breath coming out in a wheeze as he came closer to the Guardian of Fun, falling to his knees next to him, one paw on the others cheek, the other on his shoulder. "I'm right here mate. We'll get yer fixed up...don't worry."
A gurgle escaped the younger guardian's lips, one that came in a shutter and a rattle of his chest. His lips were cracked as he coughed, blood coming from his mouth. "Its...too late." He moaned softly eyes glancing over at him.
"Shut it...It's not too late. Stop thinking that way."
A weak chuckle escaped the once strong winter spirits lips, so broken that it made Aster's centre clench.
He gave a nervous breath, a shiver running down his spine. He could feel the dread hugging on. No, not again...He thought, swallowing. "Jack, lets get you healed. You'll be better in no time, back to yer pranking self..." He commented with a weak chuckle taking the other into his arms, slowly trying to move him into his arms and an embrace.
Of course, even the gentle movements were too much for the winter spirit to bare. Blood started dripping from the chest wound again, as Jack began coughing bringing up globs at each cough. His body was too exhausted and damaged, too weak to continue fighting back...
"Snowflake?" Aster gave a nervous whisper, gently shaking the other in his arms, seeing the once bright blue eyes become so dull and fading. "Jack, come on."
"No, please. You can't do this to me. You can't...Jack please." Aster wasn't one for begging but there was always a time for it and this was it. But it seemed pointless now.
"I'm sorry...Are you begging?"
Aster shivered at the frail tone, wrapping his arms tighter pulling Jack against his chest. He rested his face into the others hair, body beginning to shake. A whimper escaped his lips as the tears started forming. "Of course I'm begging yer idiot..I don't want you to leave." he protested, ears going flat against his head.
Oh how his mind still wanted to deny that this was happening, and there wasn't any time for him to go and get help. Part of him tried to make him make an effort and rush there...but a more noticeable part knew that it wouldn't make a difference. Even if he rushed to the North Pole...His mind knew he wouldn't make it in time.
"Idiot...I...I love you Aster."
"I love you Snowflake...I always, always will love you." He whispered, his voice cracking as a sob threatened to escape. His fingers gripped tight on the skin and clothing, burrying his face into the hair kissing the spirits forehead. His tears finally slipped free when he recieved no reply, no chuckle or comment. He sobbed as the others form went limp in his grip, wailed as the male's heart stopped.
He gave a howl an anguish, feeling his heart break apart and centre flatter, with the horrible realization that he was alone, again.
The Pooka made no move for quite sometime, hours at least before his body and mind decided it was time to move. He had to move despite the amount of dispair and misery that was going threw him, the amount of coldness that was starting to fill his core. His eyes blinked away the rest of the tears, standing to his feet with the spirits body in his arms firmly gripped tight against his chest. He reached slowly grabbing the staff placing it over the others chest before he began to walk out of the tunnel, his sentals and goodies behind him.
He had to tell the others.
Had to inform what happened, and who done this.
Had to go to the pole...and give Jack a proper burial.
His fingers gripped tighter, feeling the dread filling his heart. He felt betrayed. He was alone, again. What was important to him was taken away, again.
He stopped under one of the moonbeams, glancing upwards ears slanted downwards. He could feel his rage building as he stared at the Man in the Moon. How dare he. "Why? Why do you insist on taking everything away from me? What is the point, the reason, for taking him away from me? From us! Why do you insist on making you're precious guardian's heart break into tiny pieces?" He snapped, receiving no answer, just the soft silence. A snarl escaped his lips, baring his teeth. "I hope you're happy, Manny. Because from here on out, my trust and hope in you has faded to nothing. I'll still protect the children, still give them the best Easter they can have...but I won't talk to you. You took all that I had left. Thanks a lot."
With that the Pooka twisted on his heel, walking away from the moonbeams and toward the center of the Warren, feeling change coming.
For Jack Frost was dead.
And E. Aster Bunnymund's hope filled heart had turned cold to love...and joy.