Chapter Text
Jamie watches his children wander off to find their friends fondly, staring out of the window. He remembers doing the exact same thing when he was young - on a snow day, the most precious days of all. He remembers snowball fights filled with laughter and sled rides that went all over the place. He remembers frost over window panes and a blue hoodie -
Wait. He shakes himself. No, there was no one with a blue hoodie.
He looks outside the window and sighs. There's toys scattered around, so he makes to go outside when his mother stops him. "Scarf," she calls, wrinkles creasing in a smile. He rolls his eyes but obliges, wrapping the scarf around his neck. "Don't want Jack Frost nipping at your nose," she adds teasingly, eyes glinting, and he opens the door and steps outside.
"Of course not, mom," he says as he almost slips on the steps, holding onto the banister. He hears her chuckles.
Jamie starts to pick up the toys, placing them on the porch to bring inside, when her words come back. Jack Frost. Who is Jack Frost? The name sounds familiar, but he can't place it, lost in the memories of when he was a boy, when she said something similar. He sees that flash of blue again in his mind, dotted with fern-like patterns, the same as the patterns on his window panes.
The memories are frustratingly out of reach. His daughters said something about Jack Frost, too, how he - he what? Jack Frost...
He's stopped, he realises. Picking up an egg in his hands, decorated with a snowflake, but there's a thin layer of frost around it too. Easter was months ago, so why is there an egg? And where did the egg come from?
Jack Frost, his mind supplies unhelpfully.
Then something cold and hard hits him on the back of his head.
He whirls around, seeing remnants of the snowball fall to the ground, but there's no one there. The wind swirls, and he thinks he hears laughter echoing on it.
Then -
Another snowball, right in the gut, and he doubles over. Blue mist spreads over his sight -
There! That hoodie, decorated with frost. Shepard's crook in his right hand, ice where it's gripped in too-pale, thin fingers. A head full of snow-white hair and icy blue eyes full of mirth, barefoot. The wind suspends him slightly above the ground, brushing Jamie's ankles, and in the boy's other hand is a snowball, up and down, ready to be thrown.
And Jamie Bennett remembers.
He remembers seeing a large bunny and a fairy with wings. A large man with a white beard and tattoos, golden-coloured skin and hair and handfuls of black sand turning to yellow, sifting through Jamie's fingers. He remembers staying up 'till midnight to see the frost on his windows and the playful young boy who swept both of them away with the wind.
He remembers flying on that wind. Snowball fights with his friends, until all of them see him. Horses of nightmares that turn to ponies in Cupcake's hands.
He remembers the sled and the ice, the sofa that lost him his first tooth. Learning to ice skate, and the ice holding solid and firm, a phantom touch on his wrist. Predicting the weather by begging Jack to make it snow. Jack, telling them stories of his three hundred years alive.
He remembers.
And yelps as another snowball hits him. He gathers up a handful of snow and shapes it into a messy ball, launching it at the winter spirit and cheering as it hits its mark, making Jack Frost splutter and smile.
"You remember," Jack says, delighted.
Jamie remembers a promise to believe, too.
"Of course," he says instead. How can he forget? He was the last light. He doesn't remember when he stopped believing, but now that he does, he doesn't think he'll ever stop.
But the snowball fight doesn't end there. Jack retaliates, and Jamie calls, "Wind!" because he remembers Jack teaching him how to do that, too. The wind carries him up, and he whoops as he swerves to the right. He feels like a kid again. The wind remembers him, picking up speed as he launches himself towards Jack and tackles him into the fluffy snow. Jack laughs. His skin is cold to the touch as always. He wraps his arms around Jack's midsection and hugs him tightly.
"I wasn't sure you'd remember," Jack says. "For so many years." He's squeezing Jamie just as tightly.
Jamie smiles faintly. "I don't think I'll ever forget, now that I do. I promised, didn't I?"
And Jack Frost smiles, throws his head back and laughs.
Jamie suddenly remembers his mom's twinkle in her eye, her knowing smile. "Mom knows. She...she knows?"
"I used to babysit you, remember?" Jack reminds him. "She had to believe. You made her believe. And she let you believe again."
"Do you stop believing in the moon when the sun comes out?" Jamie echoes the words from so many years ago.
"Do you stop believing in the sun when the clouds cover it?" Jack continues. "You believe in me again. I'll always be here, belief or no."
Jamie considers this, then a grin spreads on his face. "Does that mean I'm the older brother now?"
"Wha - no!" Jack protests, and is immediately silenced as Jamie grabs him in a headlock. They wrestle until they fall back into the snow, and Jamie hugs Jack. He always feels thin, close to breaking, but this time he holds on tight.
"I'm glad I remembered," he says quietly.
"So I am," Jack whispers back after a while.