Prompt

Both Jack and Bunnymund are trapped somewhere either too hot or too cold, and although one of them is suffering (Jack probably for the heat, Bunny for the cold) they refuse to leave the other one who is most likely unable to move or even unconscious. Maybe they spend the time telling each other stories or confessing their love…

Rating: T

"Bunny—I'm sorry I got us into this mess."

Beads of cool liquid were building on the spirits forehead, trying desperately to freeze as they made their way down the tip of his nose, but to little avail. Though he had control over the frost, without his staff to channel it, Jack was unable to extend his ability to cool the entire room.

"Now I wont be having any of that—" Aster insisted, ears folding down as he glanced at the thermometer he pulled from the winter spirits mouth.

44° F, rather pleasant for a cold temp, but for Frost, it was proving to be nauseating. The winter spirit was leaning against the wall, looking paler than usual (if that was possible), eyes glazed as he bit his lip and tried to force back the steadying heat in the pit of his stomach. The fellow guardian was trying his best to find a place where this wasn't happening, but the heat followed Jack no matter where they went.

Pitch had really created a problem this time, his bitterness at the Guardians, especially towards the newest of the bunch, had caused him to cross the line. And Bunnymund wasn't going to have it, he'd have been after the Nightmare King already if he wasn't so torn over his worry for the boy.

With it being summertime, and the holidays rather scarce, it was easy for the weakened Pitch to devise a plan to specifically target Frost. Sure, some believed in the young spirit, but he didn't have a holiday, he didn't have nearly an entire world waiting for him to arrive. And in the summer, very few were thinking about the snowy sprite.

His idea was actually quite clever, and using some of the nightmare sand he'd concocted, he'd managed to gain leverage with a very problematic ally.

Mother Nature.

A normally neutral spirit, Pitch had managed to pollute her thoughts with the nature of man, poisoning the image of human beings with the accusation that all were selfish by design, destroying the Earth and snuffing out each little breath of existence she placed upon it.

One thing led to another, the world grew warmer, and when Pitch though the time was right, he made his move. Stealing the winter spirits staff and trapping him, grounded on the warming soil. Mother Nature's influence following him everywhere, unbeknownst to her, trying to snuff out the cold.

Jack had nowhere to go.

And the Pooka had tried, he'd sought the coldest places he himself could stand, and yet the influence seemed to go deeper than just climate. People were feeling the heat, seeing the ice melt, and they were starting to lose faith in winter itself.

He could only imagine how Old Man Winter was taking this.

But that wasn't his concern right now, as he shivered in the cave on top of the snowy mountain, even his own well-being was the last thing on his mind. Jack Frost was practically melting before his eyes and he was powerless to stop it.

He watched as the winter spirit slumped suddenly against the rock wall.

"Whoa mate!" He said, catching him in his hands, the icy sweat of the other surprisingly plentiful as it wet his paws.

He really was melting—though it didn't look it—in the human sense, he was losing all of his water.

"Sorry—I'm a little slippery." He said with a wry smile.

The Pooka helped him settle down in a seated position, "Hang in there frostbite, Sandy is after Pitch, n' North is gonna get Winter to help him out in subduing Mother Earth—then it's only a few clicks away and you'll be right as ice."

Rain wasn't the right word, so he adjusted, trying to cheer him up as he pulled his hands away so he didn't add unnecessary heat.

"Don't leave me alone!" Jack said, gripping the others furry wrist, eyes frantic and pleading.

That was unexpected, he wasn't used to seeing Jack so helpless. It wasn't very often he asked the Easter Spirit for help, in fact, Bunny wasn't sure he ever had really. He only teased and caused problems. Freezing the ground under his little eggs as they slipped and tumbled around the Warren. Not to mention the blizzard of that Easter—

"Look, if I stay close, you're gonna get too warm." He insisted, tugging lightly at the grip.

The other smiled weakly, "I'll be fine, just—sit next to me at least."

He watched the others cool blue eyes for a moment, before nodding and taking a seat, trying to pretend he wasn't freezing.

Then again, the Guardian of Fun didn't always cause trouble, sometimes, he'd show up a few days before Easter—helping him paint the eggs and get them safely to the surface. He always did the most magnificent paint jobs. He'd even show up for no reason at all except to keep him company.

Bunnymund was always grateful for it, though he wouldn't always tell Frost that. He had to admit he'd grown really fond of him, he had been for a long time, before he was a guardian, before Pitch, before all of that. He and Jack Frost had a special sort of friendship, they fought yes, but despite his bitterness he had looked back and realized that it had been sort of fun at times.

Like a game, competing with each other, trying to outdo one another on various things. That was how Jack was, he was the Guardian of Fun for a reason.

"I'm sorry to keep you here—I know it's cold…and I know it seems silly-"

"Hush up, don't get soft on me frostbite, you're going to be fine." The Pooka insisted.

Jack looked up, "No I mean—I just want you to know how grateful I am that I got to know you—I know I usually just cause you trouble, and tease you. And that I seem to want to be alone a lot…but to be honest, I don't mind you're company—and maybe it's just my melting delusional state, but I feel brave enough to say it now. So, thank you for everything."

His words had started to slur a bit as he leaned against his arm, "So just stay with me, I will suck up my pride—I don't want to face this alone."

His words chilled the Easter Bunny, he tried to chuckle though it came out weakly.

"Course I'll stay mate—you're talkin like you're not gonna get teased about this later, this ain't over yet."

Jack smiled, closing his eyes, nudging under his arm so it was draped over him, Bunny didn't dare protest.

"Aster—?" he said, catching the Pooka by surprise, he never used the name.

"Yes?"

"When I was still human—you were one of my favorites." He murmured.

He felt his heart flutter, "Was I?"

"Yeah—because I thought you were the weirdest one out there—a bunny that delivers eggs on Easter, how much more ridiculous can you get—so unbelievable you can't help but believe in it." He laughed softly.

"Hey now! I'll have you know I'm a very respected bunny, there is nothing weird about it at all." He said with a pout.

"You never let me down…rain, snow, didn't matter. You never gave up." His words grew heavy and tired. "Just like right now."

Each syllable felt like it was stabbing him in the chest, the winter spirit was so calm, even though he was suffering so intensely. Against his better judgement he wrapped the loose arm tightly around him.

"I'm not going anywhere mate, not until you're better."

Jack sighed, "You're fur is frosted—it feels nice." He leaned against his chest.

The Pooka bit his lip, he shifted, allowing Jack to sit between his legs and lean against him, he was freezing but if that offered a little comfort to him then he'd deal with it. His body was nearly dead weight, and his hoodie alternated between frozen a soaked—more often the latter. Yet, he was conscious, there was still time.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Cold lips murmured softly against his fur, frosting it lightly with icy breath.

"What is it frostbite?"

"I like someone, this person is very dear to me—like isn't the right word, I think it's love—but I'm not sure I'm brave enough to say that yet." The words were muffled, but he was able to make it out.

And he tried not to feel jealous.

"Well—why not?" He insisted, trying not to let a bitter tone enter his words.

"Because this could be my last chance to say it, and I don't think I could deal with rejection when I'm such a mess already." He sighed, "I would cry whatever water is left in my body—so I was wondering something."

The boy paused a long time, tangling fingers in the other's cool fur. The Pooka's body heat was making him tired, he was struggling to stay awake but he refused to be anywhere but in his arms.

"Do you think—that maybe I could request one last thing from this person?"

"Jack—don't be that way, you're going to be fine, you hear me?"

"Bunny—" he pleaded, looking up with wet blue eyes.

Tears, the look shattered his heart, and he fell silent.

"Do you believe in me?…Because that would be enough."

The question threw him off, it took several long moments for the pieces to click in his head. The person Jack was talking about was him, the person Jack loved was him, and he was too afraid to admit it because he didn't want to be rejected in his possible last moments of life by the one person who he wanted to stay beside him. He didn't dare say it, because if he were to reject him, Jack was afraid he might be left alone.

In the time it took all of this to sink in, the blue eyes had closed and the head rested heavily on his chest.

And in that moment he felt his own eyes well with tears he didn't know he had in him, tears belonging to the white-haired spirit. He clung to the form in his arms, holding it tightly to him, there was nothing in the world that could take him away from his arms now.

"Do you remember '68, of Easter Sunday? I couldn't stop believing even if I tried."

He kissed the cool, wet forehead, "I love you too, Jack Frost."