Chapter Text
Enjoy the late December, as Jack would say, it's the only time lakes are frozen to a sturdy enough degree without you having to worry about breaking the ice and falling through into the freezing, sludgy water.
Besides, it's not like there was anything better to do than have fun. Santa was far too busy with Christmas and all the jolly celebration for the season. The Easter bunny was, as far as Jack could tell, hibernating for the winter (Or as the Bunny called it 'just a short nap, mate').
Quite a view it was. Seriously, who knew the spirit of hope could turn into a loaf of fur the instance a particularly cold season hit?
Jack outwardly giggled as he turned his attention back to the snow around him, fingers dancing around in the chilled winter air. He hopped from side to side, feet kicking up snow that fluttered down before forming into tiny snowmen, butterflies and deers that all frolic and sway around him.
Baby tooth follows leads with a beam so wide on her face it almost blinded the boy, letting out gleeful chirps as she buzzed between the snow-animals.
Jack jumped and twirled into the wind, letting it catch him in its current. He twists mid-air, grabbing his staff to join all the hovering snow into a plume around its top, collecting into a globe before bursting out in an explosion of white and blue.
"Haha! How's about that for a three hundred and nineteen-year-old?" He boasts, Baby Tooth's high pitched laughing following tow as she ruffled her feathers from the remnants of snow.
Jack snickers, swatting away the flakes that flew to him before relaxing into the wind, his laughter quieting down as the little faerie nuzzled into his hood and lay tired from a day of messing around.
That is to say, the usual.
The night had settled and left him staring up at a clear, starry sky. Holding a full moon right in its center so luminescent it could blind the unsuspecting.
He recalls books lost by astrology lovers, children far too caught up by their telescopes and notebooks, enough for Jack to spend days burning through the star littered pages, learning about constellation and stars and infinite space that put him as nothing but a speck of dust in comparison. It's somewhat scary and yet the sheer idea of it seemed to ease him.
If there is so much out there -- people and planets with their own complexities, problems, and rules -- then maybe the mistakes he's done before don't matter that much. The world is still turning on its axis, after all.
He sometimes (only sometimes!) feels jealous of these kids. He never did get to see the stars when he was... well, alive. He never had the books or the schools or even the proper homes that protected from the biting winter.
And yet, he can't help the smile on his face upon seeing kids ramble on about newly discovered worlds and meteor showers in years to come, ones they'll only get to see no more than three times in their lives, yet the excitement still spills from them like a fountain of wonder and joy.
It's endearing, yet equally painful.
But he's old. Childish, true, but so very old. They have things Jack would have never imagined. He saw this world get built up to the sky and beyond, seen the war and the festivities, life and death, and it all never failed to enchant him.
The first time a rocket was sent to the moon, Jack had been clutching his clothes like a lifeline, twitchy as he flitted from spot to spot on the living room couch of an equally tense family. And when the first step was achieved, they all had burst into joyous cheers whilst the boy ogled, disbelieving at the TV screen, amazed beyond comprehension.
And now here was, riding the wind tide to who knows where.
He might pay Sandy a visit; the streams of golden sand had started closing in on his peripheral. Glittering laces swarming the sky and dipping through windows and chimneys.
That's when a voice startles him. The voice. One he's heard only once before, over three centuries ago and it whispers into his mind. It whispers so quietly, so Jack bolts upright, immediately losing balance. He slips from the grasp of the wind. He plummets at rapid speeds. A strangled squeak escapes him as Baby Tooth digs her tiny fingers around his neck.
"OH CRAP OH GOD WAIT-!"
Jack feverishly flails his staff in a panic but gets no response. The ground closes up on him and mere centimeters from the floor-
The wind hastily returns to pick him up.
His heart - or whatever that resembles one in his chest - thunders like a warning siren. He exhales a jittery breath, eyes trained at the snow-covered grass.
Alright, maybe he was caught a little off guard.
Jack settles his shaky limbs on the floor, Baby Tooth stumbling out of his hood before collapsing right next to him with a soft thump.
"Aw, I'm s-so sorry, B-baby Tooth, didn't mean to scare you Iike that..." Jack squeaks out, hands trembling as he scoops his little companion between his palms. Her iridescent feathers reflecting green and ruby patterns on his snow-white skin as she ruffled around and flew up to his face, squeaking out exasperated reprimands before dropping back into his palm.
Jack could only offer her an apologetic laugh before his gaze flickers up to the moon. He finds himself in stunned silence, gaze snapping down to stare the disheveled bed frame, now only meters away from him. Who knew that such a weak body of chipped, old wood could bring so much despair into his soul.
"So you're telling me..." Jack gulps thickly, eyes widening with further horror "He's the new guardian?"
And as if it were laughing, the moon glew brighter.