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Jack had heard, from hushed tales and ‘borrowed’ books that sometimes people’s lives flashed before their eyes. It was usually just the past: their friendships, dreams and realities. But occasionally, they would see their future too- if they weren’t about to die, but were about to make a life-changing decision or they were being shown visions. He had, at the time, dismissed this as part of the stories, just fiction. Now, he wished it were only that.
He was backed into a corner, his staff just out of reach. He had gone to talk to Pitch- even he couldn’t be completely evil, maybe he was just lonely- and things had taken a turn for the unexpected. Instead of convincing Pitch that maybe he could use his skills to help children (Jack wasn’t even sure if he had even managed to even make Pitch consider it even slightly); Pitch was the one doing the persuading. As much as Jack hated to admit it, he was very good at it.
‘Jack,’ Pitch crooned, his voice full of promises. ‘Do you really want to spend yet another century- or even longer- alone? Those children will grow up, their belief will fade, and you will be invisible again. How much longer do you think the Guardians will tolerate you for, when you screw up again and have no way of fixing it? Do you really want to be left out in the cold, again?’
Jack froze, as the memories washed over him. He closed his eyes to try and shut them out- to block out Pitch’s taunting smile and the approaching darkness.
‘Please, Jack. Please come back…’ She’s crying. There is a girl crying by his lake. Even the snow isn’t helping, in fact the more it falls, the harder she sobs. His ice creeps over the water, hiding the blue beneath it. The sight of the frost doesn’t seem to comfort her. He reaches out to let her know she is not alone- even if the boy she has lost isn’t here, he is. Maybe he can help? After all, snow makes everything better, right? His hand passes straight through her. She doesn’t even look up. It grows colder and colder, until she is almost frozen where she kneels. It is the first time that he realises that his abilities might’ve come at a cost- is being able to control ice and snow and frost worth being invisible and not being able to help those who need it?
*
‘Hey! Hey guys! Wait for me!’ He calls, as a group of children chase each other through the forest. They are immersed in a snowball fight; it doesn’t matter that Jack started the game, he cannot join them. The snow flies through him; their eyes seeing past him. He had hoped, that when the snowball hit the first child, that they might’ve realised there was someone else there. They hadn’t. He didn’t know what was worse: the fear that persisted that maybe no-one would ever see him or the worry that someone could see him, but they were just choosing to ignore him. Jack stopped running after them, stopping in the clearing by his lake. They were going where he couldn’t bring himself to follow. He lingered a little longer, watching them disappear, along with a little more of his hope.
*
He can see it coming, but still watches with a vague sense of déjà vu. There’s a boy, skating with his friends. He shows off, spinning in circles and laughing as he glides. His friends are slightly clumsier, stumbling after him. He helps the youngest of them, gently teasing those older than him. Jack wants to warn him, as the boy dances with a younger girl towards the middle of the lake. Jack knows that the ice is thinner there; can the boy not see that? Still, he can’t tell him as much as he wants to. He is still invisible even now. He watches as the ice cracks, the sound echoing around the lake. The girl clings to the boy, who is still smiling, even though his eyes are panicking.
‘It’s okay.’ The boy tells her, holding her hands. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
Jack sees the ice breaking and knows he won’t be able to pull them to safety. What’s the point of him if he can’t save them? In a flash of impulsivity, he waves his staff and the ice freezes. He breathes a sigh of relief, his head pounding, as they fall away from the shattered ice. Her tears dripping onto the ice remind him of the girl over a century before. He suddenly feels like crying too. He watches them leave, like so many others, wondering why they always leave and why he can’t stop feeling like he’s seen it all before.
*
He doesn’t require any help from Pitch to imagine the future. He can see an infinity of glazed eyes and his name being used as nothing more than a phrase with a long-forgotten meaning. He’s tired of being alone, and he knows Pitch is all too aware of this.
He can see the rest of his life, all those who he might’ve known, stretched out in front of him.
A brunette boy, unaware that what he is looking for is right behind him. The red-haired archer, so angry, searching for a way to change her fate. And a girl with ridiculously long, blonde hair, cradling a leather satchel, wondering where her life is heading.
‘We can work together- the cold and the dark belong together.’ Pitch insisted, the shadows curling around Jack, pushing the images into his mind, filling every empty space. ‘Every child will know your name. At my side, nothing can stop you. Imagine a world where you are no longer invisible. Where even the thought of you sends chills down the spine. You needn’t ever be alone again. Children will need you.’
The night closes around the boy, as he watches the life bleed from the dragon. He can see two figures watching him, the Cold and the Dark personified. He shivers, knowing they have seen everything and did not stop him. Regret begins to creep in, but his heart hardens. The cold and fear fill him, and he steels himself. It’s time to grow up; there is no need for regret. He is a Viking and has killed a Night Fury. Far away, his light on the gently glowing map flickers and then dies.
*
Next comes the princess, shouting at a deaf world. After yelling herself hoarse, she settles herself down by the lake edge. She longs for some sort of sign, some way out of her fate. She can’t be expected to marry against her wishes, can she? But there is only Jack and Pitch, who linger silently in the shadows. She sees them from the corner of her eye, and she realises that they will always be there, Fear and Cold. Slowly all hope leaves her and she resigns herself to her fate. Her fire is gone, and no trace of the old her remains. Jack and Pitch wear identical smiles as the last traces of everything she was and might-have-been is extinguished.
*
Finally, the blonde girl, so full of wonder. Pitch conceals her mother in his darkness until it is time. Jack makes the air just cold enough so that the girl’s companion has to leave. Then they observe as the woman leaves her daughter for the last time. They know what is to follow; Jack relishes the anticipation. Since he joined Pitch he has learnt to appreciate anger and sorrow. He has lost all grasp on his centre, but he doesn’t care. This is fun. He watches as the girl struggles with herself, before thrusting the satchel into her companion’s hands. His eyes widen and Jack can see the man’s internal battle. The crown, or the girl? His dream or the inconvenience? And in the end, his greed wins. Poor orphan Eugene, Pitch smirks, as the man takes the bag and flees, he never has been able to resist shiny things. Jack laughs at that. The girl, still frozen on a log by the water, stares into the icy water. She whispers her fears over the river. They wait just out of her sight, gradually allowing the cold to envelope her. She cries herself to sleep, knowing that her mother was right. They know she will never quite recover from this betrayal. Once upon a time, Jack would’ve cared that her dreams were crushed, her heart torn in two, but now it makes him smile. This naïve girl is just another of the hundreds who know how he felt. Alone, broken, freezing. They are no longer his problem. And isn’t that just fantastic?
Jack wrenched himself out of the vision, unable to muffle the sound of his laughter echoing in his ears. Pitch is leaning casually against the wall, his eyes telling Jack that he knows. Pitch knows that despite how wrong that version of the future is –should have felt- it wasn’t awful. In those glimpses Jack saw a life where he wasn’t alone and he didn’t care about other people. He could see how easy it would be, to simply forget that he had once been human, and to laugh at their misery. After all, wasn’t he better than them? Their lives are so short and they are so weak. Why should he care about them? They were pathetic!
Pitch was smiling now, a cold, knowing smile that told Jack that he was all too aware of what he was thinking. Hell, he probably thought the same thing on a daily basis! The smile said that Pitch understood what Jack was going through- the loneliest of the immortals, watching and interfering in the lives of children, but never being seen.
‘You and I, we’re alike, Jack. Join me, and you can be free. Free from the desperate need for attention and free from the duties and rules that have been thrust upon you. You didn’t ask for this. You don’t have to be a Guardian. You can continue as you were, but this time, you won’t be alone. You’ll have me. Because the Cold and the Dark belong together Jack. Just accept it.’ Pitch told him, his voice a cruel impression of sympathy. The dark enveloped him completely, leaving him alone with the fragments of what-might-be.
The defeated archer, the dragon-slayer and the girl with her shattered dreams.
‘JACK!’ a voice yelled from somewhere in the distance, cutting through mirage Pitch had created. A little light reached his eyes and he could see the source of the voice. It was Tooth. She was a little behind Pitch, the shadows preventing her from reaching him. He could hear footsteps now; the other Guardians were coming. They cared enough to look for him when he disappeared (even after he had gone against their wishes- well, orders). Something in Jack stirred and his hope returned a little- maybe the others didn’t completely despise him.
Then there was a flash of gold, piercing the dark and twisting the waking-nightmare. Jack had just enough time to acknowledge that Sandy must be manipulating the visions before he was immersed in it once more. But this time everything was different.
‘I am a Viking!’
The boy still stands by the lake, the knife in his hand. The dragon still breaths, as the boy grumbles about his life. Jack sends a gust of cool wind in their direction, causing the dragon’s eyes to flicker open. The breeze soothes the animal- if Jack can’t stop the Viking, he can at least provide some comfort. The boy’s breath catches as the dragon’s eyes close once more, the fight seeping out of him. He looks around frantically, as if to see if anyone is around to witness what he is about to do. Jack stands watching, not far away. The boy’s eyes catch his; they are filled with what looks like fear. Jack shakes his head, trying to appeal to the Viking’s sense of mercy.
‘You don’t have to do this.’
There is no reason to kill an already injured animal. Jack’s voice floats through the air, and he can tell the boy can hear. There are some who always can, no matter how old they get. There is something in them which makes them believe. Inherent goodness or wonder or fun, whatever it is makes the determination leaves the boy as quickly as it appeared. There is a flicker of understanding in his eyes- although what he has gained from that single sentence is unclear. He nods slightly turning back to face the dragon.
‘I did this.’
The ropes are cut away from the dragon and a split second later it pounces on the boy.
‘NO!’ Jack yells running towards the dragon. He had been watching the Night Fury (as the Vikings called it) for quite some time, and had come to like the creature. It had proven to be a good companion, able to see him even when no humans could. This time it is the dragon’s turn to hesitate. It appraises the boy, warm breath ruffling through his hair. There is a deafening silence, and then the Night Fury is screaming and flying away. The boy must’ve displayed some sign of goodness or something that calmed the dragon slightly.
It doesn’t surprise Jack when he sees that the boy has fainted. He brings the boy a blanket from his cave (night is approaching) and waits for the boy to wake. After all, here is someone who can see him and is good enough to allow the Night Fury to fly free. You can judge a lot about a person from how they deal with the opportunity to slay a dragon. All that’s left now, Jack thought, is to find out his name.
*
‘I’m just going to check on Toothless- don’t irritate the wildlife with those Whisp things too much while I’m gone.’ The boy- Hiccup- yells over his shoulder before retreating into the forest. Jack makes sure that the blue lights follow him, ignoring Hiccup’s bemused yelling. He has spent the majority of his time developing his own version of Sandy’s dreamsand- a blue version. It doesn’t really do much, but (as he has told Hiccup repeatedly) it’s a work in progress.
They are –well, Hiccup is- on a trip to witness the marriage of a princess. Hiccup has been invited partly because of his dad but mostly because he can train dragons. The King is labouring under some illusion that bears are similar to dragons and so Hiccup might be help him with his problem (and although this is not really the case, who is he to turn down a holiday?). Jack has tagged along just because he can.
There comes the sound of breaking branches and twigs snapping in the undergrowth from behind him, and Jack spins on his heels.
‘Hiccup?’ He calls, even though he knows that it is not his best friend approaching.
‘Stay there, Angus.’
Jack freezes wondering if he should make some sort of effort to hide. He forgets sometimes that not everyone- hardly anyone- can see him. Sometimes, like now, it comes in handy. The voice is shouting now, a full on rant. He can see a girl with fiery red curls striding towards where he sits. She doesn’t notice him, and for once he is grateful.
‘Why do I have to marry anyone? It’s so unfair- and it makes no sense! If I don’t want to marry one of those idiots then why should I have to? I bet they don’t even want to marry me, not really. They don’t love me, and I don’t love them! I bet this is just Mum’s stupid idea- she’s always been mad.’ The screaming stops and Jack is horrified to hear sobbing. The girl collapses to the floor, just in front of him, her head buried in her hands. ‘Why can’t I choose what I do with my life?’
‘Have you tried talking to her? She probably just wants what’s best for you?’ Jack suggests, as he sometimes does when people talk out loud when they are alone. They can’t hear him, but it makes him feel like he is helping, even if he isn’t. Unfortunately, this is one of those times (the second in under a year) when an exception is made to his rule. The girl stiffens, raising her head slowly.
‘Yeah, I have.’ She drags a hand across her eyes before rolling them, a small yet intrigued smile playing on her lips. ‘Who are you?’
‘Jack Frost, at your service.’ He offers her his hand, and she shakes it hesitantly.
‘Merida.’
‘Pleasure to meet you, Merida.’ She smiles at his formality, and he considers bowing. He doesn’t, deciding that’d be a step too far. ‘What’s up?’
‘The sky.’ She replies, the words falling off her tongue without a pause for thought. Jack raises his eyebrows, laughing now at her retort.
‘The sky?’
‘Sorry- my father...’ Merida shrugged all traces of tears gone, as though she had quietly accepted her fate. ‘What I meant to say was, not much. Nothing that can be changed, anyway.’
‘Nothing’s set in stone.’ Jack insisted, leaning forward.
‘This is- unless you can perform miracles.’ Her laugh is humourless this time and Jack flinches slightly. Miracles- who can perform miracles?
‘What about magic?’ He offers, summoning a blue Whisp with a snap of his fingers. Merida gasps, some of the light returning to her eyes. Take that Hiccup, Jack grins. The Whisps aren’t so useless after all!
‘Magic?’ she echoes, sitting up a little straighter.
‘Magic,’ Jack smiles, sending the Whisps to mark a route leading to someone who can help her. ‘Follow the Whisps and I promise someone will be there to help you.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
The next few moments are a mess of Merida jumping to her feet and performing a mixture of ecstatic jumps and dancing, followed by a hug for Jack and a thousand thank-yous. Then she is gone; racing off into the woods again, following the blue trail. By the time Hiccup returns, Merida is long gone, but the joy Jack feels over helping her (and the little bit of smugness regarding the Whisps’ usefulness) remains.
*
‘I - I should...I should get more firewood.’
‘Hey. For the record...I like Eugene Fitzherbert much better than Flynn Rider.’
‘Well, then you'd be the first. But thank you.’
Jack watches the pair from the side-lines, his heart breaking a little as the blonde girl smiles at her companion’s retreating figure. He remembers when he used to be the only one who could make her smile like that. It’s been months though, since he last visited her. He’s been saving dragons from idiot Vikings and directing stubborn princesses down the path towards changing their fate, trying to forget her. His current mission involves trying to convince either one of them to tell the other how they feel. It’s not going so well, if he’s honest. He’s spent so much time away from Rapunzel that he could almost convince himself that he couldn’t remember the exact shade of her eyes and the sound of her laugh.
He’s missed Rapunzel like crazy, but it’s clear she’s moved on. He’d been trying to persuade her to leave her tower for years, but he’d never quite managed. It seemed all it had taken was one thief to barge in and introduce her to everything she’s been missing. One stupidly handsome criminal is what she needed, not an old childhood friend. Could she even see him anymore? Jack wondered as he watched her fuss with her hair, probably not, adults didn’t tend to believe in the imaginary, which as far as Rapunzel is concerned, was all he ever was. Still, it’s worth a try, right?
He spent entirely too long trying to build up the courage to go and talk to her, imaging Hiccup and Merida teasing him about his hopelessness. Jack had told them once, about the way she had been his first proper friend and the only one he had loved. After Merida had stopped grinning and shouting ‘I told you there was someone’ at Hiccup, and he had in turn promised to teach her to fly properly, they had insisted that he should tell her and damn the consequences. Hypocrites. Despite their constant pestering, he never had. It was the never the right time, and he could never figure out how to begin. They had eventually given up, convinced that he’d get over her. He hadn’t, not yet anyway.
After hundreds of imaginary taunts courtesy of Hiccup and Merida, Jack threw himself into the clearing, falling to the floor by the fireside, right by Rapunzel’s feet. Retrospectively, this was his first mistake; he had forgotten how jumpy she could be- being locked away in a tower for so long did that to you. Leaping to her feet, she grabbed her frying pan (which had been her weapon of choice for as long as Jack could remember) and began to swing. For once, her hair didn’t move to wrap around him (he was still close enough to the fire that it might’ve burnt), which was probably the most fortunate thing that had happened to him that night. Still, the entire situation wasn’t ideal, and if Jack had to have chosen how their reunion of sorts would have taken place, this would have been last on his list. Taking advantage of the freedom not being tangled in her hair gave him, he scuttled away from her, ducking as she moved forward to hit him.
‘Rapunzel, please!’ Jack begged as she advanced; now close enough that he could see her green eyes glowing in the firelight. There was no way he was going to use what little magic he had against her; it was one of the only promises to her he had kept. Assurances that he would keep her a secret (he had told Hiccup and Merida); that he would find out about the floating lights (nobody saw him, so who could he ask?) and vows that he would let her live out her days in the tower in peace (disregarded almost immediately) had been broken long ago. This was one of the last few remaining. Initially she had told him it was the only way she could trust him, and although that had been years ago, he didn’t want to risk hurting the chance of repairing their friendship anymore. So, he backed away, pleading with her, but doing nothing to defend himself. Still, she didn’t call for Eugene and so he hoped.
‘Who are you?’ Rapunzel growled, the frying pan almost grazing his nose.
‘Jack-Jack Frost.’ He offered, clinging to the possibility that she might recognise him. It hadn’t been that long. Eighteen months wasn’t long enough to forget someone, was it? Rapunzel flinched, withdrawing slightly.
‘Jack Frost? Don’t be stupid, he doesn’t exist.’ She spat, glaring at him. Now it was his turn to wince.
‘What do you mean I don’t exist?’ Jack asked, fighting to maintain composure. Well, as much as a seventeen year old crawling around on the floor can have.
‘He’s a fairy-tale,’ she told him simply. ‘A childhood dream, sent to rescue lonely children from themselves.’
‘Then how can I be here?’
‘You’re an imposter, who looks a little like him. A trickster sent by someone to steal my hair. Or just to confuse me. Either way, you are not him. He is imaginary.’ Rapunzel insisted. Did she seem less sure now, or was that just wishful thinking? ‘Besides, he didn’t have your stupid haircut.’
‘Rapunzel, love, have you looked in the mirror recently?’ Jack laughed, unable to help himself. Rapunzel rolled her eyes, relaxing her grip on the frying pan slightly. He reached up to push it away from his face, waving at Pascal as he did so.
‘Don’t you ‘Rapunzel, love’ me, Jack.’ She scowled, seemingly giving up and accepting that the boy sprawled on the ground was really him. ‘You disappeared for over a year and a half without saying goodbye! All I got was a half-frozen note on a scrappy bit of paper and more promises.’
Jack opened his mouth to apologise- to tell her that he had wanted to say goodbye, but his attempt at confronting Mother Gothel had ended in disaster- but she was on a roll. Moving back even further, hands on hips and eyes blazing, she continued.
‘Do you know how long I waited? I thought you were never coming back- hell, I thought you weren’t real! Jack, I thought I’d lost you. Do you know what it does to a person, losing their best- their only- friend? You are complete and utter bastard, you know that? I bet you didn’t think of me once. I bet you ran off to go and lie to some other naïve little girl.’ Rapunzel paused, her eyes filling with tears. When he said nothing, not knowing how to even begin, she bit her lip and carried on. ‘You did, didn’t you? Does she know how quickly you leave? How one morning you’re promising to bring extra ingredients for soufflés and a new book and the next you’ve vanished?’
‘Punzle, I’m so sorry. Please-‘
‘No, Jack. I can’t- I can’t have you leaving me again. Eugene is taking me to see the floating lights, and then I’m going to figure out where to go from there. Y’know, despite being a thief and more than a bit arrogant at times, he is a better friend than you’ve ever been.’
‘Rapunzel, please.’
‘Goodbye Jack.’
She spun on her heels, and began to march away, Pascal glaring at him from her shoulder.
‘NO!’ Jack yelled, jumping to his feet, and running after her, ignoring the sound of rustling coming from behind a bush. He grabbed her arm to get her attention, sighing with relief when she stopped. ‘Please, you have to hear me out!’
Rapunzel tore her arm from his grip and turned to face him. ‘I don’t have to do anything.’
‘Please. Just listen to what I have to say, and then you can go and see your floating lights and you’ll never have to see me ever again.’ Jack begged, fully aware that he had never apologised so much in such a short period of time in his life. Rapunzel sighed, quiet resignation replacing the fight in her eyes.
‘You have two minute before I go and get Eugene,’ she told him, folding her arms across her chest. Jack offered her a small, grateful smile, taking a seat on a log, before beginning.
‘I spoke to your mother.’ He began, trying to organise the words threatening to come pouring out of his mouth. ‘Well, Mother Gothel. Whatever. First off, she is creepy as hell. I don’t care that she’s your mother, she’s kinda terrifying. Sorry, side-tracked. Apparently she doesn’t like the idea of some random and kinda dead teenager, who can control bits of the weather, hanging around you. ‘Cause if you run away with me then she can’t get her magic-hair fix and then she’ll be screwed. She’s really old- North knew her when he was just starting out, so she should be long dead by now. The point is that your hair is keeping her alive. To cut a long story short, she wasn’t too happy that you were planning on leaving her.’ Seeing Rapunzel’s disbelieving look, Jack took a deep breath and hurriedly carried on with his story. ‘She basically told me that either I stayed away from you, or she kept you in chains for the rest of your life. Obviously, I chose the former.’ Rapunzel’s glare was softening now, and she slowly sat down next to him, not taking her eyes off of him. ‘I hoped you’d someday find the courage to leave on your own- and you did. That’s all I ever wanted for you. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye and that I don’t know what those bloody floating lights are- I’m invisible to almost everyone, love, there’s nothing I could do. I’m so sorry that you had to wait for me. But I don’t regret leaving if it meant that witch allowed you a little freedom.’ Taking a deep breath, Jack screwed up his courage and blurted out his last confession. ‘I love you, Punzle. And if that means that I have to stay away from you, then I will. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that if you love someone, you have to let them go. So, I did. And I am.’ Jack blushed a pale pink, adding under his breath. ‘Thank God Hiccup and Merida aren’t here, they’d have killed me by now.’ He sighed, beginning to rise to his feet. ‘Thank you, for everything, Rapunzel. And I really am sorry.’
Jack turned to go, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off his chest. He had said everything he had had to say and now she knew everything. More or less. So, he walked into the darkness, smiling as snowflakes swirled around him. He passed an old woman, standing in the trees, scowling at him. A satchel hung on her arm and she tensed as he passed. Strange woman, he thought as he slipped by her, what sort of old lady believes in fairy-tales?
Behind him, he could hear Eugene (or Flynn, or whatever name the kid is going by these days) talking quietly to Rapunzel. He tried not to listen, but there’s something in him still attuned to the sound of Rapunzel’s voice.
‘Where are you going?’
‘There’s something I have to do.’
Then there is the sound of her footsteps running after him, thudding on the cool grass. A hand catching the crook of his arm, the pressure on his side as she leans on him so she can stand on her tip-toes and the gentle press of her lips on his cheek.
‘Stay.’ She says, taking his hand in hers and leading him back the way he came. For the first time in eighteen months, it feels like he is finally home.
*
Then there is a series of jumps, nothing more than glimpses. Hands twisted together and learning how to properly use a bow and arrow, falling out of the sky only to be caught by a dragon and a pair of blue shoes on a shelf. All the snapshots are tinged with laughter and hope and none of them contain even the tiniest fragment of loneliness. There is anger and weariness and a little bit of sorrow, but in all there is hope and the knowledge that at the end of the day, there will always be someone to come home to.
The shadows have withdrawn completely and only pure, golden light remains. Pitch has fled and only the Guardians remain, offering him their hands. He takes them, knowing that he might not be ready to become one of them yet, and that he might not know any of the people in the glimpses yet. For now he is still alone and unknown. Yet, he is not afraid, because a future of happiness and maybes awaits him. Somewhere the dragon-trainer, the archer and the dreamer wait for him, and that’s enough for now.