Pain.

That was the first thing that Jack Frost felt when he regained consciousness.

There was a splitting ach in his head, the result of taking a particularly hard hit from one of the Easter Bunny's boomerangs, and his joints felt stiff and sore from disuse.

A groan passed through Jack's dry, cracked lips, the sound coming out muffled due to the factthat his face was currently buried in the collar of his icy sweatshirt, and his eyes squinted open.

His cloudy blue eyes held nothing but confusion as he tried to take in his surroundings, a feat that was made near impossible by the oppressive darkness he found himself in.

A familiar darkness. And cold.

He, Jack Frost, felt cold.

Where was he?

A sharp pain decided to make itself known from somewhere around his right temple and the thought was dismissed as Jack groaned again; this was worse than the time he had gotten into North's vodka.

Maybe that's why he found himself asking the same thing he had that morning, "What happened?"

Jack didn't know who he was asking, but voicing the question made him feel a little better none the less.

Mind still groggy, the Winter Spirit tried to take stock of the situation once again, this time going for something a little closer to home: himself.

His legs were bent at an altogether uncomfortable angle, something Jack decided to change but then vetoed the idea when his joints and muscles screamed in protest at the slightest movement.

Okay, not gonna happen. But what had happened?

No sooner had he thought it did the memories of the previous night, or had it been longer, come flooding back.

The Sifter was at the Pole, posing as Bunny, and had attacked him. Tooth had left to get Sandy.

But, what happened to the real Pooka? Were the other Guardian's safe? Was Tooth? What about the shifter? What was he planning? Had they caught him?

No answers came.

He was used to the silence, so it didn't really bother him, but he would have given anything for MiM to answer just once.

He moved to rub his temples, all this thinking was really doing a number on his head, and jerked in surprise when he felt something dig into his wrists.

The bonds were tight, painfully so, and he was sure that if the pressure didn't leave bruises on his overly pale skin the course texture of the rope would.

The realization that he was tied up was met with an all too familiar feeling of overwhelming loneliness.

Again, he was used to being alone, had been for the better part of three hundred years, so the feeling didn't really bother him.

However, Jack realized with a heavy amount of dread seeping up his spine, there was a very big difference between being alone and being alone tied up in what he could only assume was a cave.

He noticed then that he didn't have his ever-present staff with him and helplessness was added to the mix of emotions he was feeling.

The questions started up again.

Where was Bunny? North? Sandy? ...Tooth?

An idea struck him then, so dark that he gasped at the very thought, sending heat, rage, flaring through his normally icy veins.

What if the Shifter had killed them? And what if he had done it while masquerading as Jack?

His eyes widened and the ice spirit felt like he was gonna throw up.

He was on thin ice as it was, a rather ironic thing for him considering that he was the very embodiment of cold, and the last thing he needed was for the Guardians to lose faith in him, to think that he would kill them.

"Oh, no."

And with those two whispered words, fear was added to the list.