The truth about secrets is that they're damn hard to keep.

It's 3:02AM. Jack Frost wakes with a start. He can't remember the last time he didn't wake up this way, covered in sweat and his forehead slicked with sweat. His staff sits a few feet away, lodged in the branch of the tree he fell asleep in. When did the nightmares even start showing up?

Jack sighs, rubbing the snowflakes from his eyelids and brushing hardened tendrils of ice off his hoodie. He catches his reflection in the frozen lake below and sighs. The moonlight shines a strange glow over the hard surface. He looks ghastly: skin paler than a fresh blanket of snow. His cheeks are sore and his hands are shaking, while Jack notices his entire body appears hauntingly fragile. In the lake's surface, he blinks at his eyes, dark circles set deep underneath with a hollowness echoing inside them.

Damn you, Pitch.

He never told anyone. Not really. The nightmares started appearing the very night after the Guardians had defeated Pitch, sending him to his demise through the earth's mouth, swallowed by his own fear and darkness.

When Jack parted ways with the Guardians to prepare after-Christmas snow days for children in Michigan, he felt whole. Like the world had suddenly caught on to time's oldest gift: Jack Frost. The spirit behind all the joy and laughter he never knew credit for until recently. So even as the nightmares started entering his sleep, taunting him with secrets he'd sworn never to tell the Guardians, Jack Frost was happy.

Jack visited North when he needed advice on how to help an introverted kid see the fun in snowball fights, or for what to where that time Tooth asked him to go see the Northern Lights in Canada.

He chatted frequently with Bunny during the rabbit's off days, which pretty much consisted of every day of the year save for the week before Easter. As for Sandy, Jack spoke with him often and followed him on trips to deliver dreams to newborn babies, even those who weren't predicted to live very long. Jack learned, and he discovered that a Guardian's work is more than the act of spreading wonder: it was harsh, at times.

Sometimes without reward. In those four years, Jack watched Jamie Bennett and his friends stop chatting excitedly about the approaching winter or whether Jack himself would stop by to initiate a snowball fight on a conveniently arranged snow day. They began staying inside, stressing about homework that was assigned over the holidays, whether they would be able to head into the city for the day if the roads were completely snowed in, and cursing at several inches of snow when they had an exam to write that day. Jack watched their dreams fade into worries. He even asked Sandy, who replied that some children simply grow to shake off his sand for a dreamless sleep.

Sandy told him it was better for some, that way. The world needed them to grow up, and it was about time. There would be other children, he assured Jack. So Jack kept watching. He watched Jamie's friends brush off their encounter with the Guardians as a hyperactive episode of imagination and confront their parents about them putting quarters under their pillows whenever a tooth was lost. They rushed out of the neighbourhood for winter shopping sale deals and poked fun at mall Santas.

Worst of all, Jamie followed them. He laughed with them. He laughed until Jack stood by his side one night and Jamie looked right past him.

And Tooth had warned him about adopting too much innocence from the children they protected. Recently, she'd collected teeth from a child she told him was being abused; but it wasn't in her place to do anything. Jack held her until Tooth cried and then couldn't cry anymore. He learned, and he tried to ignore the nightmares as best he could.

After all, didn't all the Guardians harbour similar fears? Who could blame them?

"Ha, you're no different," Jack thinks, smiling weakly to himself. "So what's stopping you from telling them?"

But he knows. Everything is preventing him from telling the truth, and he couldn't change that.

Kicking off the snow that had fallen on him from the night before, Jack yawns and hops off the tree, landing soundlessly on the lake below. The ice beneath his feet swirls with tiny details and an intricate design. Jack purses his lips, staring at the sky and letting out a misty breath. The forest behind Burgess looks so beautiful, the sun trickling over the edges of the horizon. It's almost enough to make Jack forget about what he had dreamt about the night before. Almost.

"Why does this keep happening?" He asks, reaching a hand out towards the moon. His eyes grow wide for a moment, then shut themselves tight. Jack laughs, shaking in the stillness. "No answer, of course." He grabs his staff and begins walking away, glancing over his shoulder at Manny, ever quiet whenever he desperately needed answers.

While heading into town, Jack closes his eyes. It all comes back without warning.

A cold hand on his cheek, the weight of a comforting darkness hanging around him. The world is so quiet. When Jack opens his eyes, it takes a moment for all his senses to collect. His fingers are caked in dried blood; but it's not his own. He feels for his legs, wrapped around skin that is both rough and strong to touch. His arms hold someone close to him, Jack's own heartbeat resounding against a pale chest. In front of him, a pair of eyes are set deep and drowning in lust. A voice Jack cannot hear. But he remembers responding, anyway, his breath hitching as a hand wanders its way down his inner thigh.

"Do you want to be believed in?"

"Yes."

"Do you know that all children must grow up?"

"...Yes."

"Then come. Come with me, and the world will believe, no matter how old each child grows. Wouldn't you like that, Jack?"

"Yes."

When Jack opens his eyes again, he isn't in Burgess. Instead, he's in the middle of the forest, his head in his hands and a sob forcing itself out of his throat. His mind is spinning. He pants, a sick fear growing deeper in his stomach. He feels the sun on his back now-how much time had passed?

Jack can't breathe. The space around him grows hazy while the lake's edge starts shooting out thin spikes, its tips covered in translucent black ice. Jack's eyes widen and he clutches his stomach as his vision rings with a thousand voices. His breaths grow more and more rapid as the spikes snake across the lake and around the forest, covering the trees and hills with icicles sharp enough to kill.

His head stings. He feels the pain deep within his skull just before everything goes silent. The last thing Jack sees is snow, snow falling in heaps around him until he's buried several feet under.

When the black fades, he's in the air, staff in hand. His cheeks are stained in the residue of thick tears.

On January 1st, a blizzard blows across Michigan with no signs of stopping.

Dear Jack,

I hope this letter reaches you.

It's been a month since you left without a word.

The Guardians and I asked the wind to deliver this message, and we pray that you're safe, wherever you may be. Jack, please come home. We miss you and we can't fix this winter alone. Ever since you disappeared, blizzards have appeared in every continent with no signs of stopping. People are dying. They're dying, Jack, and I know this isn't your fault, but I need you to help us fix this. The children need you, and they need you quickly. We don't know how much longer we can hold. Truth be told, Jack, this has never happened before. North had no idea you were capable of such raw power and it scares him. It scares me, Jack. Where are you? Why did you leave so suddenly?

I'll always be here for you. I'm so sorry you had to leave. I feel like I might understand if we had just talked, Jack. I know where your mind has been wandering lately. How your eyes linger on the shadows of Burgess' alleyways for a moment too long. You're searching for him, aren't you? I wish you could have told us. Or me, at least. I thought you trusted us, or maybe you do. It's my fault for not noticing this sooner. I'm sorry, Jack, so I'm asking you to help me make sense of all these secrets. Please just come home. We can help you rid your thoughts of Pitch forever.

Love,

Tooth