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2025-04-13
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2025-10-08
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They’re mad when you’re so weak you want to die

Summary:

Jack gets coal for Christmas.

But doesn’t that make him a child?

Aren’t children supposed to be protected?

Aren’t the guardians supposed to care?

Notes:

I heard that line and went huh because you’re telling me Pitch has been on that list for less time?? And then I thought hey, Pitch isn’t a kid. And then I thought THAT MAKES JACK A CHILD??

Also I crave angst.

Major trigger warning for dissociation btw

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

“You make record.”

It was just words, really Jack knew that. It was words, just words, but he remembered blinking awake a few years into figuring out how humans celebrated Christmas to coal scattered around his makeshift tree. It was soundly and icy, glimmering softly in the early morning sun and the coal stained it. The coal had felt chalky beneath his fingers, it was sticky and wrong.

He got it every year from there on.

Dropped where he originally out his makeshift tree, dark rock instead of something that matters.

Jack didn’t like reminders of that.

He was on the naughty list, and he was a child using that logic because kids go on that list. He’s a naughty little child, misbehaving and disgusting. He’s dripping salty sweat and anger, icicles painting the land around him as he shook because his skin felt like it was freezing off his bones.

Jack hated Christmas.

He played with Jamie in the winter, yes, the snow and ice shining around his bare feet as he threw snowballs at the red faced boy. But it was interrupted by either Sophie or Jamie himself mentioning North, every single time. It got tiring.

Jack was sitting on the tiled roof of the Bennett house, the moon sending gentle rays of redirected sunlight around him. He couldn’t feel the cold, but if he could he would. Snow settled around him, frost spreading around his body and dripping liquid over the edge of the roof. He hated Christmas, but the holiday was soon and North hated it when he went over near his holiday. His day to exist and work and think, Jack couldn’t be settled up in the rafters because it would ruin the system.

He wasn’t in the rafters, for that reason. He was on the Bennett roof.

The guardians had a meeting a few days after Christmas, and he really needed to fix his thoughts before then. Being around them was hard when he got like this, hands shaky because what was he supposed to do? The hope and wonder and memories and dreams settled around him, a heavy blanket that didn’t calm.

Jack stood from his spot on the roof, staff spinning loosely in his fingers as he darted into the sky. He felt like he was floating inside his body, he may as well float outside as well.

Vertigo overcame him, drifting in waves despite being stationary, his brain flowing the subconscious movement vaguely as it drifted. His hands weren’t his, they were pale and bloodless, his body wasn’t his and it shook softly. Random tremors overtaking his arms, flinching at the slightest change in the winds he wasn’t clutching in his grip. He was floating, drifting through the sky.

He liked to drift. It was a thoughtless sensation, really. The benefit of being immortal is that you get lots of time to figure out what’s fun for you, and in Jacks case he liked the lack of thoughts. Mindless play, throwing snowballs, drifting, anything was better than thinking. His thoughts weren’t pleasant, before the guardians it was circling reminders that he didn’t know who he was, and after it was circling reminders that they only care because the moon told them to.

He hated his thoughts so much.

And that plunged him back into himself. No longer drifting, the wind moving around him was too loud, the fabric on his body is too scratchy and wrong. He feels wrong, his hair too heavy and light all at once, the icy hot-cold feeling he always got when he came back from drifting overwhelming him.

The wind guided him to the lake he first emerged from, the familiar coal stain in the corner, the spindly ice tree he carved to celebrate Christmas (he hated the holiday but North loved him when he did that) in the centre of the lake. He still didn’t get presents, and if he did it would be coal, he knew that.

He didn’t bother sparing the tee and extra glance as he collapsed into a snow bank, staring into nothing and just—being. It felt nice, to just melt there. Think of nothing and everything as he tried to replicate the feeling of drifting.

He doesn’t know how long he spent there, probably a day or two, but when he came back there a thick layer of snow atop his hoodie and he felt sore from the lack of movement.

~~~

He hadn’t gotten anything at Christmas since becoming a guardian.

This year he did.

It was coal again.

A black mass, a stain against the perfect ice of his tree, he could feel the sharp little frost splinters in his hand as he tore the tree down, he could taste bile because he just stood there after destroying his magic with his hands. He got coal again.

He was just a naughty, misbehaving child again.

He was nothing again.

Jack cried. They were empty tears, hollow and embarrassed and torn and broken, because he was a bad kid. He wanted to curl up in a ball and feel small, he wanted to have something to hold onto as he cried but he had to go congratulate North otherwise he’s a bad person, he had to go check on Jamie and the other kids, he had to-

Breathe. He should breathe. Or he could drift, and that seemed a lot more interesting, so he went back to his snow drift and collapsed.

His mind heavy and circling and everything was to much. His drifting wasn’t as pleasant, he was underwater but he could hear everything just a little too clearly, he was underwater but he felt more real than he should, he was drifting though. He could feel everything, but he couldn’t think. The sound drowned out by the overwhelm, by the tears and cold and coal still scattered across the lake.

~

Jack liked this generations music. Jamie had gotten him headphones, a snowflake sticker shoved on. Courtesy of Sophie, of course. It felt real, like his body was his, but it wasn’t. He could think when he listened to music.

The boy had gotten him an iPod music player, from memory. Jack had thanked him, of course, but he still felt guilty. He melted into the tree behind him, words echoing around his brain. They drowned out the thoughts as well, perfect at the moment.

’if I could cut my OCD out with a knife, I would, I’d gouge that fucker out’

Hah. He would cut out this ice, he could gouge everything about him out. He’d claw it from himself, leaving it a bleeding, writhing worm on the ground. He could force it down his throat moments later, shove it down into his stomach and ignore the way it made him want to die.

He loved being nothing but his thoughts. Nothing but the images in his mind that he didn’t really want.

He was floating against a tree, words echoed in his brain. He loved those words, and he didn’t get them for Christmas. He got coal and horror and fear, not joy or music or smiles. Why couldn’t he have smiles? Why couldn’t he get music? Why did he get coal. Why did he get this.

He knows why.

He deserves it.

He deserves this.

It’s his fault. All his fault. Maybe he should stop. Stop talking, thinking, existing. Let himself drown into the lake because it’s not like he’s good. He’s just another spirit with one believer. Just another spirit with no one to love him. He was fading, and he was fading fast.

And then he heard something. Shocked back into his body, he looked around sharply and hung his headphones around his neck. It was Bunny.

The Easter Bunny, as Jack knew, hated him. A burning kind of hatred, the kind Jack had for himself. The rabbit crawled out from the tunnel he had made, glaring at Jack.

“Hurry up Frost, meeting!” The rabbit hissed, pulling the thinner up harshly. Jack pushed him off, laughing halfheartedly.

“Sorry, lost track of time, you know how it is.” He excused, stretching lazily. He was sore again, it couldn’t have been that long, right? “I might go by wind, you know, avoid all the dirt and muck down there.”

Bunny glared, a growl rising in his throat as he shrugged the winter spirit off.

“Have fun then.” And with that he was gone. Jack, as he had sad he would, raised himself into the sky and darted to the pole. The wind was fast, he was fast with it, and he arrived only moments after Bunny.

The four guardians were sitting around the room, their eyes snapping to him. Tooth looked relieved, North looked annoyed, Bunny was Bunny and Sandy just smiled.

“Hello, Jack here, how are ya?” He laughed, ignoring the sharp hatred that burnt through al of their eyes. They were angry, they hated him, they were faking their joy. He was bad, bad kids don’t get joy. They don’t get gifts.

“Great! Christmas went well, lots of gifts for children. Yetis worked hard to paint things right.” Thick Russian accented words floated from North, the man laughing heartily. He was faking it, Jack knew he was.

“Nice to know, anyone get a sack of coal?” Jack said. It was exclaimed in a light tone, more of a laugh than anything else. He knew someone did, North knew someone did. He got coal, he got darkness and rocks and chalky stains because he was a child to them and yet he will never be protected.

“Only naughty children, you know that Jack.” North brushed him off, and Jack wanted to cry but he didn’t. He didn’t, and he regretted it but he didn’t.

Not really.

It would’ve made everything worse.

~

Jack curled up in a snow drift and drifted.

He floated.

He breathed.

He didn’t think.

And he didn’t feel as satisfied as he normally would.

Chapter 2: people, please, you should be smiling

Notes:

Uhm. Sorry about the wait for this part--I kinda had a time. Drifitng in and out of fandems, you know? Anywayz, I hope you enjoy the very tasty very yummy angst, and my newfound talent in writing dialogue (I still suck at it but like) should make this MILDLY BETTER <3

I hope this doesn't suck btw, idk ya'll I kinda just wanted to satiate the peoples cravings. This is obvi longer than the first part cause I'm a better writer (imo) now

I hope you enjoy, check the updated tags :3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Jack was floating again, the icy snow around him didn’t feel cold but he knew it should and it was disorientating because he should be cold and warm and he’s not.

He wanted a hug.

The thought came out of nowhere, hazy and just missing him, but it didn't quite...leave. Hovering in the back of his mind, conjuring warm hands pressing into his skin and tracing the scars on scars left there. Centuries is a while to spend without human contact, he's realised.

He wants a hug. Craves one.

Needs it desperately, like a plant needs water or a bird flight.

But he's not quite worth it.

The snow settled around him, cold and painful, digging into his bones. Headphones covered with faded stickers and promises of comfort, but the music didn't register in his brain. Maybe he should move. Check the time. Look for the kids. Do anything besides stare into the foggy snow drifts and hope that the crystals melting on his skin aren't actually going to hurt him. He's not sure sometimes. It feels like he's being torn apart by frostbite, lonely and abandoned.

Jack was drowning now. Floating in the water, icy cold as liquid filled his lungs. He wanted to cry, bury himself into the warmth of someone, anyone, but he wasn't worth it. He was just-

-a frostbitten child on the naughty list.

That was all.

He really, really wanted to cry now.

Did he have anything on today? He didn't think he did--the guardians had started reminding him, hadn't they. And Jamie could do without Jack taking up space. He was a kid, sure, but he was getting older and didn't deserve Jack being a nuisance.

The winter was almost over. The snow almost melted, Jack still frozen.

The floaty feeling hung heavy, and he twitched his fingers until he felt like he could move his hands. Slow, shaky and cold--inhuman--he dragged his hands up to grab each wrist. His skin was cold, but the temperature still didn't quite hurt. It was an awareness that he was cold, a corpse, and the contact itself felt wrong. But he kept his hands there, merely applying pressure with his fingers until a dull ache permanented his arms.

He's not sure how long he sat there for, but he felt an odd, chilling sensation. Like the moon itself was watching him, shimmery and glowing. The snow caught on the moonlight, and Jack only manged to shake himself from his stupor when he heard the call of an owl.

Suddenly sore and tired, he scrambled to his feet and tried to figure out what day it was, only for his arms to have sharp jolts of agony go through them when he tried to support his weight with them. He collapsed back down, hitting the snow with a grunt and tugging at his sleeves to check what he'd done.

There were dark, purple red bruises where his fingers had been, a few spots of dried blood from his nails digging into the skin without him realising.

Jack bit his tongue, trying to focus on something beside the pain in his limbs and the disorientation that came with coming back from a bad floating episode. He shook out his limbs, trying to ignore the pain and failing.

Bleh. It wasn't that painful, but he was too foggy and tired to focus on much, so he simply tried to sit and reorient himself. Muttering to himself until his head stopped spinning wildly.

Once he finally decided to try standing again, it was already midday. The sun made the snow sparkly too bright, and he only managed to stand using a tree. Despite all that, he still had to clutch onto the bark until his head stopped trying to fall apart, melting into the wood. Vertigo was a bitch...

It took...maybe five minutes? Jack wasn't all that good with time, he'd never been. A minute means nothing next to 400 years, he tended to blink through time on occasion. He didn't realise he had stared at nothing for ten minutes until the people around him acted confused and angry in the middle of a sentence.

But maybe five minutes was better than normal.

Allowing the wind to catch on his sweatshirt, he spun his staff around and let the breeze support his weight, frost and snowflakes following him in a perfect little trail. The wind, the breeze, the moon itself, was far better company than his own thoughts.

But he didn't know how long it had been, so maybe he should check on Jamie. For all he knew, he'd been out of it for a year and the guardians had given up on him. It was believable enough.

The wind tugged him to the Bennet house easily, familiar and comforting, and he fell into the backyard roughly.

The snow was more melted than he thought it would be--had he lost days? He hadn't realised. How long had it been, Jack really didn't want to make Jamie think he was ignoring him. It was unfair, truly, that he was pathetic enough to disappear for so long. Some kind of guardian of fun he was.

Shaking out his stiff limbs, further proving his theory he'd spent a while in the sky, he drifted up the Jamie's window.

The boy was inside, tapping at his wrists rhythmically and humming, but Jack noted the excess energy that seemed to thrum throughout him.

Jack knocked the window, letting frost spread across the grass like cracks. Jamie jolted up at the sound, rushing over the window and bouncing up and down as he let Jack in. "Jack! Jack frost!"

"Hello to you to, Jamie." Jack grinned widely, ruffling his 'friend's' hair. Jamie squirmed under his hand, giggling wildly.

"It's been a while. Where were you! I tracked down Bunny--Sophie helped of course--but he said he didn't know." Jamie rambled endlessly, just as full as energy as when they met. When they met and it was two sided, technically. Jack knew of him a bit before he knew of Jack, but that was technicality.

"Oh, I must've lost track of time. I was building..." Pausing for suspense, Jack crouched down so he was a bit shorter than Jamie. "...a snowman! Like you humans do, I mean. And then it fell apart when I took off, the wind really is so-"

The wind ruffled his hair, and Jamie giggled into his hands. Jack relaxed, confident his little story worked. He'd gotten good at excuses after people started seeing him, after all.

Jamie started tugging at his arm, and Jack followed without complaint. Sophie, now a bit older and generally more mature, still trailed behind good naturedly with the greyhound. She chattered to the dog brightly, jumping every few steps like she was skipping without half the moves.

"The snow's gonna melt soon, we should have a snowball fight!"

Jack grinned, rolling his eyes and following. Sophie did as well, still young enough to speak in short sentences as she exclaimed her own excitement.

Even when the Bennet mother called them back inside, and Jack stayed out in the not quite cold weather, the lack of fog lingered slightly. It came back, but only once he flew his way to North to hang out in the rafters.

The coal still hung fresh in his mind, but withdrawing too much might make them hate him more, and the yetis were a good form of distraction. So were the elves, but sometimes the loud trumpets were headache inducing and a floaty Jack didn't go well with overstimulation.

He slipped into the rafters, hanging upside down like a bat as he watched the slow working of the workshop. No one notice him, and Jack was happy to stay there, watching the celebration and joy that came with post-Christmas relief. North was stalking about, laughing as he sipped out of a flask, far too happy for someone who destroyed Jack's world a while ago. How long ago? A few weeks, judging by the way North occasionally scolded the yeti and elves, reminding them to at least half focus on their work.

Jack rocked back and forth, still upside down, the wind swirling around him to keep him attached to the roof as he fiddled.

Only for North to jokingly exclaim-

"Naughty children received coal, nice children got presents!"

And Jack hardly felt anything after that. It wasn't quite floating, more like a tight, tight pressure on his lungs. His ribcage shrunk down until his organs barely fit inside, shoving bile up his throat and making him stiffen in an attempt to soothe the angry-numb grief. It was all consuming, and he bit down on the side of his mouth and begged himself to just float away and leave-

Only to fall down to the floor roughly, air knocked out of his lungs. He choked on oxygen, coughing weakly as he scrambled into a table, making the handful of items on top shake a bit. He coughed, an ache in his back making his eyes twitch shut as he tried to reorient himself.

North was in front of him when he opened his eyes, raised eyebrows and crinkles in the corner of his eyes.

"Hello, Jack."

Jack flinched away from the sound, despite every bone in his body telling him to smile and laugh and be normal. He was shoved against a wall and he was trapped and North's fingers had tiny black smudges-

He bit into his hand as hard as he could, teeth slightly too sharp, and tried to force his brain to come to a halt. The pain did the trick, at least. His thoughts stopped twirling, dancing, and he shook it off loosely. "Hi-hi North. Sorry 'bout that, must've fallen asleep in the rafters-"

Jack shook out his hands, sliding away from the too small, cornered space. He much preferred cramped spaces, but right now he didn't want to be near anyone. Especially North, especially North when he had coal on his hands. Was it coal? Or ink? He wasn't sure. Either way, it made his heart race, and the act of staying tethered was becoming increasingly more difficult.

He was fine, he just needed--just needed a moment to breathe, just a second to brush it off and pretend his thoughts weren't a hurricane trying to move through sludge-

"Jack? Are you alright?" North's voice sounded hollow. Like it wasn't genuine, like he wanted to know for appearances or convenience or maybe he was being malicious. Maybe he wanted Jack to break down, maybe he was hungering for the other guardian to bolt like a scared rabbit.

Jack shook off the thoughts, willing his hands to stop trembling. "What, 's the big guy worried? I'm fine!"

He sounded genuine, didn't he? He thought he did--maybe he didn't. He wasn't sure, not really. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, biting through a thread of flesh and relishing in the iron-like taste. He wasn't very good with people--centuries alone did that--but he knew how to laugh things off. he was supposed to. Isn't his entire job to be fun? To just--laugh it off? So he's probably being genuine. In every way that matters, at least.

"Stay away from rafters, Jack Frost!" North wiggled his finger like he was scolding a child, laughing heartily and ignoring the way Jack was still curled in on himself. He knew he was still curled up, because his sweatshirt wasn't touching his front and that only happened when he slouched over. "Now enjoy party! Haven't seen you for weeks."

Jack flinched, questions seeming to slide through his brain, but he shoved it away. He could handle this. He could, he knew he could. He knew he'd been floating for a while, he did, and he still was. Time wasn't quite real, the haze of confusion just light enough for him to talk and chatter and twist his way through the crowds like normal. But it was still there. He wasn;t processing things correctly, like he had a painless headache.

He bit the inside of his mouth again, and forced the fog away.

Just a bit more time. He'd be fine. He always was, right?

------

Jack fell down, into his lake, the water seeming to tug at his limbs. It wasn't frozen anymore, and he couldn't drown anymore, so he merely let himself drift amidst the currents. Gentle splashes of water seemed to flicker above him, and the cold, heavy liquid pressed down on his ribcage, but it wasn't quite unpleasant.

If anything, the faint reminder of being cold and wet and dead was the part that hurt. The false sensation of being cold, the water, the pressing darkness, wasn't the problem, he was. He was the one incapable of being good. He was the one who got coal at Christmas. He was the one who couldn't handle drowning.

So, Jack inhaled the water.

He didn't do that. Hadn't let liquid fill his lungs since his death, kept his mouth shut when he drowned and hoped he would forever, but this time he just...

Felt it.

Felt it clogging up his organs and filling his throat, and it was cold and continuous and he wanted to gag or black oput but he wasn't quite human enough to do that, was he? Wasn't old enough, wasn't good enough.

And he didn't know how long he spent under there, because for all he knew it was centuries of his brain flickering in and out, only weight and water and the painful sensation of liquid in his body, but suddenly he was being tugged from his safe haven onto the lake bed, coughing up liquid like he'd actually drowned.

Frost covered his skin, tinted blue and far too pale, not from cold, from his own failure. He was a failure, in every way and every story, he was wrong.

And the jagged ice spikes that shot through his flesh, tethering him to the ground, weren't actually spearing him. Just holding him, encasing his limbs like chains and cuffs and ropes.

Jack coughed, rough and wrong, water splashing up onto the ground, only for someone to tug at his side, flipping him over so he was upright and crouched on his knees in the dirt. His vision blurry, he blinked away the streaks of water and shook out his hair, trying to reorient himself on land, with oxygen, so he could see the person in front of him.

It was...Bunny.

The Easter bunny was soaked to the bone in front of him, wringing out his now dark grey fur with a scowl on his face, and Jack took a moment to process.

"Bun...ny?" He said eventually, coughing mid sentence from the remaining water in his lungs. "What're you doing here? You never leave your burrow for no reason."

"You vanishing for a month, with no sightings of you from anyone--including Jamie--when you're normally an incessant brat is reason enough." Bunny snapped, and Jack barely noticed the way he blinked through time again until Bunny was snapping his paws-fingers?-in front of his face.

"Oh--sorry about that! Lost track of time." Jack tried to brush it off, shaking out his hands in a weak attempt to rid his head of the residue fog. "I'll go say sorry to Jamie-"

Bunny clicked his tongue. "You keep pausing."

Oh. Had Jack blinked more than once? He wasn't really aware of it, he was half floating and half aware, which normally meant he wouldn't have repeated moments of blinking through time, he'd just float away after one.

Clearly, his contemplation showed on his face, because Bunny seemed to catch on he was aware he did it on occasion, but this was an outlier. Curse this rabbit. "What's up with you at the moment? We've barely seen you, you haven't done your job, and I find you drowning yourself in a lake! Not even mentioning the dissociation-"

"Am I a child?"

Jack didn't mean to say that. Oh, he really didn't mean to say that, and the words made he frantically scramble from Bunny and stare out at the lake. The stain from coal was still there, and that might be the worst part.

Bunny seemed to lag, pausing for a moment before shaking it off. "What on Earth are you-?"

He followed Jack's gaze, looking out at the black stains on the ground, the remaining crumbs of coal, and he stiffened. Bunny's eyes flashed with something unreadable in Jack's peripheral, and a quiet sort of acceptance settled over him. Of course. Bunny was going to call him stupid or worthless because that's what he was. Pathetic. A naughty little child.

"What's bothering ya? Cause I could guess, but I reckon you saying it would be easier."

Jack paused, trying to process the fact he wasn't being yelled at or hit or drowned again. Maybe he should run away, Bunny couldn't fly, the wind would--the wind would help, right? The wind proceeded to ruffle his hair, and he glared at the sky before turning back to Bunny.

"If I get coal, it implies I'm a bad child. Even ignoring the fact my entire purpose is to protect kids and I'm still considered bad, then I'm a child. Aren't you supposed to protect children? This has been happening for years, Bunny, yet where was my protection? Where was-where was anything." Jack rambled, tugging at his fingers and hair, biting into his tongue and stiffening under Bunny's scrutiny. "I mean, c'mon Kangaroo, what do I have to do to be worth something to anyone? To be something good."

"Ah." Bunny seemed to pause. "Look, I suck at emotions. Gross, feelings, aye mate? But I'd bet North wanted to make fun of your appearance, at best. Or piss you off. Or do something that wasn't meant to hurt ya, kid. Not kid. Winter...spirit? Immortal guardian?"

Jack laughed, the sound choked up and somewhat awkward as he tried to force his head to understand that.

He wasn't successful. I mean, he was, but now all his damned thoughts chanted were that he overreacted.

That he's pathetic.

A whiny child, maybe he was just a misbehaving brat.

And he was far more determined than he'd normally be to hide that poison, so he shrugged it off, forcing joy and light, uncaring fidgeting into his limbs despite the stiffness actually residing there. And Bunny seemed convinced enough, and Jack was underwater, unhearing, as the rabbit darted away into his burrow.

Jack wasn't sure what happened after that, and by the time he'd managed to ground himself enough to be aware of the fact he'd spent a year unaware of everything he did, it was Christmas again.

The coal was there again.

Notes:

Yet again, thanks for waiting, love you, mwah

Notes:

Thank you for reading <3