Please note: *This story was given root at the same time as IlloustriousTaco's 'Pooka lay eggs' story. We had fun discussing them together and taking our own creative approaches to the idea. Really, the whole 'Pooka lay eggs' thing was a throw away gag line from Kayasurin in an AIM chat, and Taco and I took it from there and RAN WITH IT. I'm only just now getting my version out, so you should go check hers too. It's great, I promise!*
Won't be posting songs for this one guys. I mostly just put foreign music on in the background or typed in silence.
JR Week Prompt: Fight


Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,

Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel.

-Shakespeare, Hamlet, I, iii


Jack swiped at icicles, repressing the urge to make more just so he could knock those down, too.

"Why is it you're always making a mess?"

"It was an accident!"

"Well your little 'accident' cost me an entire batch of caramel filling, and now I'm the one that's gotta clean it up and start all over again."

"I said I was sorry! I can help make more—"

"I think you've done enough helping for one day."

"But Bunny—"

"Jack, just leave."

Fuck it.

He conjured more icicles on the tree branches as he walked through the forest of Burgess, and took great pleasure in the shattering clinks that came from breaking them.

What did Bunny know, anyway? He'd only be trying to help! He'd had oven mitts on and everything, but a bit of caramel filling for the chocolates had sloshed over the rim onto his foot. Recently boiling caramel? Hot stuff. Jack Frost? Not so much. They were lucky all he'd done was drop the ridiculously big pot and spilled it rather than frosted the whole damn kitchen over in his shock.

He'd really wanted to help make those chocolates, too. His memories had been filling themselves in, and every now and then he'd remember snippets of his life that he'd forgotten. One of the more recent ones was his little sister's love for chocolate—a treat they'd gotten only a handful of times in their entire lives. Standing by and watching Bunny work on his chocolate like that…

He'd been seventeen and human again, his little sister giggling at his side, watching their mother make chocolate using the special beans her grandmother in France had sent her. It had been a special privilege to have chocolate, Jack knew that most people in the village hadn't had any idea what chocolate even was.

He'd just wanted to help.

But that had backfired, of course. After all, he made a mess of everything, didn't he? Ten years later, and Pitch's words still rang with some truth. Ten years later, and while they weren't obviously friends or anything, Bunny still seemed just out of his reach. They'd been getting closer, but he'd just had to go and screw that up a few months ago.

He'd just wanted to know more about Bunny. What were you like as a child? Who were your parents? What are Pooka like? Where were the rest of the Pooka? A few questions, asked in innocent curiosity, shouldn't have hurt any. But they had. Bunny had thrown him out of the Warren so fast Jack should have had skid marks on his behind.

He'd gone to North after that, upset and not understanding, and North had explained. Bunny's people were long gone. Bunny was the last.

He hadn't known. He hadn't known. No one had told him! He'd just wanted to know more about Bunny! He'd just wanted-!

But that didn't matter now, did it? Bunny had rigorously ignored him for those following months, and no matter how much North reassured Jack that Bunny would get over it once he'd had time to think it through, Jack still knew it would be a long time before he'd make any sort of new progress in their relationship.

Jack pursed his lips tight and knocked over a few more icicles. Relationship. Now he was just kidding himself. Ten years he'd worked, trying to mend old hurts. Yes, he'd caused that Blizzard in '68. Yes, he'd been manipulated by Pitch in 2012 and left them open for Easter to be destroyed. But hadn't he made up for that? He'd helped with Easter every year after that. He'd worked himself a nice little niche in the group slowly, patiently. They'd become his best friends and closest confidants, and even felt a bit like a family, even if it wasn't quite the type of family he'd always longed for.

As for Bunny, well, Jack had had ideas for what they could be. He'd been trying to carefully push them into that intimate space, where friendship reworked itself into something softer and more heated. Then he'd finally have an excuse to run his hands over Bunny's wonderful shoulders, and to tweak that cute tail. He be able to place his head against Bunny's chest and listen to the sound of his heart and the rumble of his wonderful voice. To watch those hands, so different from his own, create beautiful things unlike anything Jack had ever made with his snow and ice.

That wouldn't happen, now. He'd thought that helping with the Easter preparations, like he did every year, along with everyone else, would help get things back to where they'd been before he'd asked those questions. He'd been wrong, it seemed.

Jack sighed, and kicked a pile of snow with his feet. It was fresh snow, still soft and fluffy looking, the kind of snow that packed for perfect snowballs. It was the last light snowfall of the year, and was barely an inch thick. It made him wonder if there was anyone out playing. He could use the pick-me-up. Especially since he'd decided that, since it seemed Bunny needed more time away from Jack, he would be avoiding the Warren entirely for at least a few months. They'd still see each other briefly at the monthly Guardian meetings, but that didn't mean they had to interact with each other much while they were there.

He'd been working to make Bunny look at him for ten years, since his stupid little crush had went and flipped itself entirely on its head and fallen in love, of all things. If it was for Bunny, Jack could wait a few months. That was nothing compared to the three hundred years he'd spent without.

Jack made his way toward the lake. There was a chance some kids would be playing on it before the ice melted, even if it was sunset. He was only a little disappointed when he reached it and no one was there.

He spent an hour or so skating on the lake, with nothing better to do occupying his mind. The sun had set, and the moon shone high overhead like a beacon in the sky. Jack gave it a cursory glance as he skated. He and Manny weren't exactly on speaking terms, not that they'd ever been.

Just as Jack was starting to get bored a bright beam of moonlight intensified on the center of the lake. Jack stopped skating, and watched the moonbeam. What was Manny doing?

The light grew brighter and brighter, something appearing on the ice where it hit like a spotlight. As the thing became entirely tangible, the moonbeam faded away, leaving it behind.

Jack approached cautiously, his curiosity overtaking any misgivings he might have had about strange gifts from the Moon getting beamed down like something out of Star Trek. The thing turned out to be a huge basket at least six feet in diameter with no handles. In the center of the basket (which seemed to have been padded with fluffy pillows that peeked over the edge) a cluster of something poked up from underneath a thick blanket that covered most of the basket.

He narrowed his eyes and bit his lip. He pinched the blanket between two fingers, and lifted it off slowly.

Eggs. The Man in the Moon had given Jack a cluster of five, brightly colored, strangely patterned eggs, each one different from the others. Very big eggs, too. Each one was the size of a newborn baby, if not slightly larger.

He was confused. Jack set down his staff and carefully picked one up. It was heavy, but not too bad. Why would the Man in the Moon give him eggs, of all things?

Jack traced his fingers over the egg's pattern. This egg's base color was yellow, and it was covered in purple and green polka-dots. It was warm in his hands. He stared at it for a few seconds, shifting it around to see it from all sides, when he paused.

Had…had something just moved? Inside the egg?

Jack pressed his ear to the shell, and listened very carefully. Eventually, he heard a small shifting sound.

He drew back, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. There was! There was something alive in there! Giddy with excitement, he placed the egg back in the basket, and bounced around it like a child on Christmas morning. This…this was his chance! The family he'd always wanted! He'd—

Jack reeled. He'd be a parent. He'd get to love and care for and raise these little somethings, whatever they were, and he'd have a family. Sure they'd only have one parent, but Jack had only had one parent too after his father passed, and he'd been alright. He placed a hand over his mouth, overwhelmed at his sudden joy. He'd never allowed himself to entertain the thought of children. He'd wanted them, he'd even looked forward to the day he'd have a few when he'd been human, but had given up any hope upon realizing his sexuality as a spirit. Two males couldn't have children, and there wasn't really a way to go about adopting when you were essentially an immortal spirit.

Jack looked up at the Moon, and for the first time ever, said, "Thank you."

If he didn't know any better, Jack could've sworn he felt moonlight brush through his hair like affectionate fingers.


Jack found himself with a bit of a dilemma after that. First things first: how to get the basket someplace safe. He couldn't just leave it there on the lake. He had to get it somewhere he could guard and protect his new charges. There had to be a cave somewhere in these woods…

Luckily, there was. It was a bit cramped, for sure, but it would fit both him and the basket. Jack could stand up, at least, though anyone taller would have to duck to get inside. As it was, he'd have to carry his staff at an angle when he brought it in. The cave itself was only about twenty feet deep, and fifteen across.

After that came his second issue: how to get the eggs to the cave. It was about half a mile away, and he'd never be able to carry the basket. He eventually decided flying was his best bet. Calling the wind, he instructed it to pick the basket up, and he flew with it to the cave. He nearly had a heart attack when it almost tipped at one point. His heart permanently lodged in his throat, he'd cut their speed drastically. He'd never flown so slowly.

He settled the basket at the back of the cave, and set his staff up as a light source. It glowed bright, casting the space with gentle blue light. He checked the eggs for cracks and fractures, stomach ceasing its frantic flips as he realized they were alright.

He checked their heat, as well. Third issue: weren't eggs supposed to be kept warm? They felt warm to him; in fact they didn't seem to have lost any of their heat despite the night's chill. He made sure they were settled in the pillows of the basket, and wrapped the blanket around them. He wracked his mind for ways to provide extra heat.

He ended up making a small fire midway between the cave's entrance and the basket. With its light he was able to stop his staff's glow and preserve his magic. Jack searched the area around the cave for stones big and flat enough for him to put in the fire. He found ten flat, thick stones roughly the size of his palm, and put them in the fire to heat. When they'd been in there for a while, he took off his hoodie and white undershirt. He tore the shirt into ragged pieces to wrap the stones in. He took a stick and pushed the stones out of the fire. He pushed them onto the cloth and wrapped them, careful to avoid brushing them with his fingers. He was unable to avoid gripping them when he tucked them under the pillows beneath the eggs, but he did this part as quickly as possible. As it were, he still gained a few burns on his right hand from handling all ten. His shirt had been an old thing, worn thin over the years. It was a wonder it hadn't fallen apart before, so he wasn't surprised that it hadn't been able to protect his skin very well.

Jack, hoodie back on, covered the entrance with fallen branches and brambles to help keep some of the heat inside. Finished, he made his way to the basket, and settled in as well. He lay curved around them, and was for once happy for his small frame and skinny legs, since it meant he fit better. It was still a bit tight, but he managed. The basket was a made of sturdy strips of wood lashed together, and even with him lying in it, didn't so much as creak when he got in. He wondered if it had been made so strong on purpose; if Manny had foreseen that Jack would want to lay down with his eggs.

He rested his head on his folded left arm, and smiled at the eggs. The thought came that he should consider telling the other Guardians about his new treasures, but after some quiet contemplation dismissed it. For Jack, this was his special little secret. He would tell them later, of course, once his eggs had hatched. But until then, he would keep them to himself. His own private joy for him to cherish and adore until they hatched and the world came knocking.

His family, he thought, happiness bubbling in his chest and spreading a dopey smile across his face. This was his new family, the one he'd wanted. The kids he'd secretly dreamed of.

He wasn't kidding himself. He didn't even know what species these eggs would hatch as, though he assumed they'd be some sort of bird creatures. No creature in existence that he'd seen before had eggs this size or this colorful either, so he made the tentative assumption that, like kitsune or tanuki, they'd be at least slightly anthropomorphic or shape shifters. He could sense the ambient magic from them. He could tell from their magic that they were a higher species, at least, with it being more complex than a simple magical animal, like Paul Bunyan's cow or a hellhound.

But it didn't matter so much what they were. Inside those eggs were baby somethings waiting to be born, and Jack Frost was determined that he would be the one to see it through.

Jack nibbled his lip thoughtfully, a mildly embarrassing urge clinging to his mind. He gave in. Reaching out with his right hand, he tenderly ran his fingers over the top of each egg. His burns pained him a slightly, but he ignored them. Then he sat up, and, blushing a tiny bit, feathered light, affectionate kisses on them. He lay back down afterwards, still embarrassed, but more happy than anything.

As he closed his eyes, he gave one last, decisive thought to not tell the Guardians about his precious treasures until they'd hatched. Besides, a stray melancholy bitterness added, it wasn't like Bunny wanted to see him anyway.


Yay, eggies!
This muse is called Eggy Jack, for those who wondered.