"The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved."

-Mother Teresa

Jack wished he could go back to the start more times than he could count in those three hundred years. Back to when the Man in the Moon actually spoke to him, and was a friend to him. When he didn't understand the concept of being completely, utterly alone.

People passing through him wasn't just emotionally scarring. When someone walked right into Jack's body, it felt like he was drowning. He couldn't breathe for a few terrifying moments, and when it was over, he just wanted to curl up and cry.

Then came another wave of terrible realization that no one could see him. Worse, it was more than possible that no one would ever see him. Jack would never be able to reach out and touch someone's shoulder or say hello. He could scream in people's faces, but they'd never so much as glance at him.

Jack begged the Man in the Moon to tell him why, but he didn't get an answer. Eventually the winter spirit stopped trying and went back to work on getting others to see him.

To an immortal, three hundred years wasn't that much. If you were an immortal who was believed in, that is. So for Jack, the world was black and much too slow, days and nights dragging on with him tirelessly creating big things like blizzards and little things like awesome snowball fights. There were moments when he could blend into a crowd of children and lose himself in the fun of it all, but they never lasted long before one of the kids ran right through him and he was drowning again.

The consolation that Jack had wasn't that much of a consolation. Bunnymund, as well as other spirits and Guardians, could see him, talk to him, touch him. However, the Jack and the rabbit never got along, and if Jack was man enough he'd admit that it stemmed originally from his jealousy of the Easter Bunny. Bunnymund's name was known everywhere, and he had to be careful because children could see him. They cared if he was sad or hurt. They cared in general.

While Jack was forced to sit alone and speak to the empty space, the cold wind and Sandy's magical sands his only comfort. Longing for a home, for a family, for someone.

The process to insanity was a short road. Jack started talking to himself more and more, if only to fill the gaping void that seemed to constantly surround him. Then he started trying to force people to see him by making them suffer. He never harmed children, but that was beside the point, because the children were hurt anyway when they realized their parents had frozen to death. Those years were not his best moments.

Yet, during that time, Jack watched the children suddenly brighten and smile in their tears. At first, he thought it was because they realized it was him—yeah, he was pretty loopy—until they touched their teeth.

Why would they touch their teeth?

Jack didn't know the answer to that question until Amelia, a little girl in England, lost her last baby tooth. She put it under her pillow, and of course. The Guardian of Memories was comforting the children.

The Tooth Fairy. Believed in, loved, and seen. Jack wanted to ask her what he could do to be like that.

He met her once before the whole thing with Pitch started. Well, he saw her, but she didn't see him. Which was fine, since he was used to that. He was flying near Tooth Palace, and she was taking a short break from her job, flying around and giggling among the clouds.

In all of his years, Jack Frost had never found anyone as beautiful as Tooth. Her multi-colored feathers shone in the sunlight, framing her pretty face and sparkling amethyst eyes. Then her translucent wings, fluttering like a hummingbird's, helping her soar through the sky in loops and twirls.

Jack watched, mesmerized, until a small Baby Tooth fluttered over and squeaked at her leader. Tooth gasped in excitement and sped off back home with her.

Jack flew away. Tooth Palace didn't need to be cold today.