Summary: In the weeks following the fight with Pitch, Jack is plagued with nightmares of his own death. Unable to deal with it, Jack is nearly pushed over the edge. It's up to the other Guardians to pull their friend back up, and maybe get to the root of the dreams.

Disclaimer: I do not own ROTG or any characters portrayed or mentioned in this story. This is solely for entertainment and I am making no money for writing this.

A/N: I loved the movie and came up with the idea about a Jack suffering from insomnia due to nightmares. This is the result. I hope you like it.

Chapter One

Cold and darkness enveloped him, seeming to crush the air from his lungs. He gasped, but no air refilled them, only the freezing water. Fear washed over him as his muscles spasmed, an attempt to claw his way from the icy grasp of the water. The moon, he thought, where is the moon? But it was nowhere to be found, no matter which way he jerked and twisted. His muscles grew weaker with each movement, the water burning like knives against his skin.

He couldn't move,

couldn't breath...

he was drowning...

dark oblivion pulling him down

deeper

and deeper

and

deeper

...

Jack sat bolt upright, a terrified gasp escaping his lips. As he sat in the darkness, panting for breath, his body trembled uncontrollably. Slowly, he placed a hand against his cheek. The skin was alarmingly warm, as it had been the time he made the mistake of straying a little too far south as spring changed quickly to summer. Even more surprising, small beads of sweat clung to him. He tried to recall the last time he had sweated. Nothing came to mind. I didn't even know I could sweat anymore, he thought as he slumped back down.

His breathing had evened out, skin cooling down to a more normal and less alarming temperature. Still, his mind was racked with the images it had conjured up. Sleep refused too come again. With a sigh, Jack picked up his staff and took to the wind. Perhaps a little fresh air would do him some good.

It had been a week since he was inducted into the Guardians. No one had seen hide nor hair of Pitch, but they were being cautious, despite all signs pointing to him being gone. Maybe for good.

It had also been a week since he learned of his past. It was after that that the nightmares started. Every night, it was the same. Dark and freezing, suffocating. Every night, he drowned all over again.

It was made so much worse in that it felt too real, like he could really feel the water filling his lungs. At first, when he regained his memories, he didn't care that he died. The only thing that he thought about was that his sister was able to live. To be honest, he still didn't care all that much that he drowned. It may have taken three hundred years, but he finally found his purpose and the children could see him. It was the happiest he had ever been since 'waking up' the first time, all those years ago. But the nightmares tarnished that perfect happiness, like a storm cloud looming overhead on a warm, sunny day. Not that he cared much for warm, sunny days.

Jack wandered aimlessly, thinking of anything but the nightmare. Few lights twinkled below him; he was in northern Canada, in an area where there were only a few small towns here and there. It was spring, warming quickly the farther south you went. The Groundhog said winter was over, and besides in a few colder climates, Jack wasn't allowed to create much snow. Unless, of course, it was already snowing...

"Jack!" he heard a familiar voice squeak. He spun around, the wind keeping him bobbing in place, and saw Tooth fluttering toward him. He forgot that she decided to resume doing field work with the Baby Teeth. Her feather glimmered in the pale moonlight as she hovered in front of him, hummingbird wings beating rapidly. Her smile faded into a look of concern as she studied Jack. Vaguely, he wondered what he looked like.

"Are you okay, Jack?" She pressed her hand gently against his forehead in something that struck Jack as an almost... motherly gesture. "You're kind of warm... Are you sick?"

"No," he said with a light smile, though he was sure it looked forced. "I'm not sick. I think I was just a little too far south, and it warmed up a lot faster than I expected." That, of course, was a complete lie, but the relief that spread over her face told Jack that he was convincing enough.

"You should be more careful," she scolded, but her tone was light. With a chuckle, Jack retorted, "It's like you don't know me at all."