A/N: Hey all! This is the first RotG I've literally ever done so I apologize that it's crap. Feedback is not demanded ever, but is always encouraged and loved.

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It never seemed to occur to Jack until the night he stayed up late and watched a horror movie with Jamie. Jack had certainly seen worse films (in any sense of the word, come on, he'd was 300 years old, he was around when they'd made moving pictures. He'd made William Lincoln slip in the ice once or twice, and people assumed movie theaters kept the huge rooms cold for a reason, hah.) so Jack didn't really get what the big deal was until Jamie's bedtime.

For one thing, Jamie was like any little kid, and was in general absolutely terrified of horror movies during and after. Especially after.

"Jack, Jack don't forget to c-check under the bed too!" Cute or not, there was a hint of real fear in the boy's voice, and the Guardian didn't like that. It was reminiscent of the fear in his voice when they'd face downed Pitch the last time. Jack eyes narrowed and he checked under the bed like a good Guardian.

He popped his head back up and said with a cheeky grin, "I found a dust bunny, those aren't too vicious for you are they?"

A pillow was lobbed at him for his teasing, but when Jamie spoke next he didn't sound so scared, his grip had loosened a fraction on his comforter (Jack was afraid he'd tear it in a second) which was what Jack was banking on.

"Jack, you've been everywhere in the world, right?" The boy asked, looked warily around at the shadows his hanging dragon created.

"Except the tropics, sure." Jack said as he reached up and poked his glowing staff under the dragon, illuminating under it when he had Jamie's attention, his actions and expression saying: see? No monsters.

"There, there really isn't anything like those monsters in the movie, right?" Just saying it made the small boy shudder, and Jack moved closer at this, those big eyes darting into the darker corners of the room but always, always, always back to him for…reassurance. Comfort. Security.

Oh. It dawned on him then.

Jack should really get points for this. He waved the boy off lackadaisically, shrugging easily and snorting.

"What? No, no Jay, come on, they're not even in the tropics, North would have seen them, right? Or Bunny? Tooth would have seen them in a second; she's got eyes like a hawk. The movie was fake, made up, believe me." He flopped down on the boy's bed, staff leaning against Jamie's dresser. Jamie sitting against his headboard, nodded down at him, his tiny shoulders starting to lower.

There was a scraping noise outside; Jamie tensed up all over again like a baby bunny and Jack, his eyes closed and exuding the very image of relaxation, pointed out that the branch outside Jamie's window was hitting the glass again.

And then a small form inched closer so that they were almost touching and, and was that a small sigh of relief Jack heard? Jack tired not to smile too obviously.

"…I believe you." Came a soft voice, making the winter spirit open crack open an eye at the kid.

"Good."

"…but you will stay here tonight, right?"

"For you Jay? Anything."

Jamie beamed. And, to his mother's surprise, got a good night sleep.

oooo

North had SAID it was okay.

He was allowed to. He'd been given every adult 'yes' there was to get, and legally that meant it was okay to scamper around like the little kid he was and not have to worry about getting yelled or worse, in trouble. He had been given (mostly) free reign in Santa's workshop! All cause Jack had snuck him away for a day and taken him here!

Jamie gazed around the huge workshop, his eyes as big as they could go and mouth open enough for an elf to fit through. Speaking of the elves, some of them had tried getting Jamie to come with them to play, but the boy had balked and remained on his perch.

Said perch leaned down and grinned at him over his shoulder.

"Ya'alright there Jamie?"

"Ah, uhm, mhm!" Words weren't working, he settled for several nods so big Jack was surprised his head didn't come off.

Jack merely laughed a bit and leaned back, one hand still settled loosely on Jamie's waist, the boy wasn't being forced to sit there, not at all.

Jamie blinked. When had he gotten in Jack's lap? He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Jack actually sit on a something, the air not included. Oh, now he remembered, as the boy watched two Yeti lumber by, engrossed in their work and carrying huge pieces of something that looked like a train set. They walked with colossal steps to a little kid like him that were set where they wanted, they didn't care if the elves got out of the way or not, and the only other creature normally here was North, who was at their eye level anyway.

Jack had snagged him up out of harm's way when they'd first gotten here because Jamie was only able to watch dumbly as he was nearly trod on. Now here he was sat safely, yes, but North had given him access to any room except his personal workshop, which Jamie was fine with, he was just so curious, and so, so excited! He wiggled a bit in Jack's lap, but didn't leave his guardian's cold frame.

And then when one of those large workers went by or model airplane swooped dangerously low, Jamie found himself still rooted on Jack's legs, one shy hand on Jack's hoodie sleeve, but not gripping yet. He glanced at Jack with big eyes again.

"Wanna see the sleigh again?" Jack prompted helpfully; wondering if that would get the little kid moving.

Jamie nodded emphatically again, still looking a mite star struck.

And then, "…you'll come with me, right?"

Jack paused, but only for a moment, then nodded and grinned. "Course, where else would I go?"

These words finally got the boy out of his lap. But Jack did not fail to notice the small hand grabbing his and tugging him along, bubbly and excited once more, now that the danger was taken care of.

Jack would never let him get hurt.

oooo

It was a disaster that struck Jamie Bennet one day when he was a young boy, sometime mid January when he was ten or eleven.

His mother remembers it well, remembers the crippling fear, the having to be strong in front of her boy and go home to also take care of Sophie and pray she didn't get sick too. All the children in town were getting sick this time of year, a massive bout of flu or scarlet fever, something, was spreading like wildfire and it affected every child differently.

Jamie's had started small enough…and then he'd collapsed during dinner one night and rushed to the hospital. His fever was 104 or so and climbing, and the doctor's could only stabilize him. It wouldn't go down, for two days now, her baby had been hospitalized, lying in feverish unconscious, calling for her, for Sophie, and sometimes murmuring things about rabbits and fairies and north. Though she didn't know it, the night nurses had heard the boy whimpering for someone named Jack, and assumed he must have a big brother or a close friend. The fever dreams had lessened as Jamie's mind got more and more heated and exhausted, and Mrs. Bennet chalked it up to the fact her baby boy's brain was burning up so bad, and his tiny voice calling out as she sat by his bedside only made it worse. But he hadn't said anything for what felt like months, years even. That was scarier than the spoken delusions and pleas, in her opinion.

Everyone in the place was doing everything they could…and still, no change.

"We're afraid to try anything Mrs. Bennet, he's so young, we don't want to make it worse or for it to have lasting effects..."

She simply nodded, understanding, pulling her hand back from her boy's flushed scarlet cheeks as he lay on his back, wheezing in his sleep. There wasn't a need to check his temperature like that; the monitor across them hanging over his bed was telling it all, 104.21. That was as good as 'lasting damage' to her but she wouldn't allow herself to say it.

Just as long as he didn't get any worse.

The doctor said a few things more, something about his body trying to burn out the germs and bacteria but 'overreacting' and how this just happened to small children sometimes, and if things changed for the worse an ice bath would certainly be in order, even though they'd tried that once already and it had done nothing but pause the fever for a day or so before it had climbed right back up.

Jamie only shifted his head weakly in his sleep, but did not stir or wake.

And then a miracle happened, later that night after his mother had returned home, and after the night nurse went around.

Jamie's fever broke and his temperature plummeted fantastically.

It was of course, no miracle, to him nor to you and I. It was none other than Jack Frost, having returned to Burgess a day ago and, upon finding the poor boy in bed with a crippling fever, had immediately got onto the bed with him and wrapped his arms around Jamie—and sort of his legs to, as if to make a physical cage to keep the boy safe in—pressing the little unresponsive, too hot body to his freezing center.

"It's okay Jamie, I got ya…you're gonna be okay," The winter spirit had whispered in the dark of the boy's hospital room.

Jamie, who had heard those words many times over during impromptu, wild sled rides, only moaned in his sleep and weakly pushed toward the biting chill he was being held against. Seeing this, Jack had grinned, his eyes lighting up, and held Jamie closer, feeling a familiar small hand grasp his cold—stiff hoodie and a nose bury into the thin layer of frost that covered the top of his clothes.

Beep. Beep.

Jack looked up at the noise, at the hanging screen and the numbers it glowed. 103.04…The smart machine was keeping a good track of the boy's core temp, so Jack let it do its thing and held on tighter to Jamie.

"Almost there buddy, think cold thoughts, okay? When you get better we're gonna go have a snow ball fight and I'll make you another snow fort in the woods for you and your friends…I can make furniture now, North has been teaching me…I'll make ya a couch made out of ice, how does that sound?" Jack urged softly as the boy slept on. He'd listened in, heard the words 'ice bath.' Well, that was the thing about ice, it melted, eventually.

Jack Frost didn't. He couldn't.

Heat naturally moved to cold, and Jack's body easily crushed any small amount of heat that came near him, always churning out more, the coldness of his body lower or even lower than freezing depending on how Jack wanted it.

"…mh…" Jack blinked down at the boy bundled in his arms when he heard a noise, and smiled faintly. He moved his bare hand to the back of that too warm neck and then heard a relived, heartbreaking sigh of,

"…Jack…"

"That's right Jay, I'm here." At that, Jamie nuzzled closer to his Guardian, safe and large against him and deliciously cold. So he pressed poor Jamie up against his center, and Jamie sleepily clung to him as much as his muscles could allow, and Jack Frost kept him cold throughout the entire night.

When Jamie woke up the next morning and asked his mother for a drink of water, he was confused why she started crying, but Jack, perched outside his window, knew why.