Jack Frost: Repercussion (RotG 1shot)

Repercussion: the rebound of a force after impact

Jack immediately realized that the bitter, empty feeling that he was feeling was loneliness; no, he did more than recognize the wretched feeling. He understood it and everything there was to do with it.
It had been a casual, out of the blue stroll in the park - quite literally, as a matter of fact, he found himself aimlessly meandering amidst the forest of trees surrounding his lake. The dark of the night sent shivers of discomfort down his spine until the moonlight shined through and he felt a greater sense of security than that of which he'd felt before.
However, no matter how much of the pale moonlight shined down on the equally pale spirit of winter, his mind remained clouded with darkness. It was tantamount to a punch to the face, how quickly the dreadful, familiar feeling overpowered him. It caused him to zone out of reality, and he was constantly stumbling over tree roots and the like. He didn't notice the many long gashes and deep cuts that he'd acquired as he continued through the forest. Jack couldn't say why he wasn't flying, after all with his staff in hand it was as easy as thinking 'I want to go to Antarctica'. The wind would take it from there, all you had to do was keep your body at a certain angle and you'd be on your way. But subconsciously, something was eating away at him, causing his thoughts to be jumbled and irrelevant, therefore flying was out of the question.
As Jack pressed on, unaware of his destination, he felt the happiness slowly drain from him. This little walk in the woods gradually began to make him feel anxious. And the worst part was he didn't even know why. He'd been extremely drowsy after bringing winter to Burgess and having a number of snowball fights with the kids there. There was a brief moment when he'd paused his little stroll and looked down at his feet, noticing the blood and the dirt but not feeling the slightest amount of pain or stinging. 'I must be pretty tired,' he thought to himself meekly, before looking back at the woods. They dark seemed to gather beneath the trees and festered there for the night. Jack stood, paralyzed in his tracks as he took a moment to inspect the trees surrounding him. They were all towering over him in an intimidating manner, with long and jagged branches to use as swords to impale their enemies and thick bark to use as a shield.
To be blunt, the trees actually reminded him of the Guardians.
And it was ironic, really, how the forest was mocking him, because you see, the trees were all around him, cornering him even, but they never moved. They never spoke, never bothered to acknowledge their existence. They just looked onward, disregarding - no, refusing - to notice the young spirit of fun in any way, shape, or form. He was invisible even to the trees, and even if they could see him, he was just... there. He had no real business with the trees, and he was just there. And he began to tremble after seeing that most of the trees didn't appear to like him at all.
His drowsiness got the best of him, and he could see clear as day faces etched upon the bark of the trees. They were distorted and kneaded, quite a frightening sight in Jack's mind. He took a frightened step back, only to bump into another one. Their crudely carved lips didn't move when they spoke, partially because it wasn't their voices; they were the guardian's voices.
He could hear them echoing throughout the forest, and he spun around, determined to find the source and destroy it lest it torment him until he found his way out. Little did he know that it was all coming from his own mind.
"But no one believes in you, do they? You see, you're INVISIBLE, mate; it's like you don't even exist." Bunnymund's voice bounced off of every tree, wriggling its way into Jack's mind and eating away at him further.
And without warning, all of it came flooding over him, overwhelming him to the point where he wished he didn't even exist.
"Jack, I'm scared!"
"You're greatest fear is that you'll never be believed in; and you fear you'll never know why."
"I'm a bunny. The EASTER Bunny. People believe in me."
"Who is Jack Frost?"
"No one, honey, it's just an expression."
"Do you want them, Jack? Your memories?"
"Come on, Jack, you can't have fun all the time."
"Oh, so like a neutral party? Then, I'm gonna ignore you, heh, but you must be used to that by now."
"You put me here! The least you could do is tell me... tell me why?"
"We had everyone's memories here. Yours too."
"You said you wanted to be alone. SO BE ALONE!"
It was overpowering; the voices overlapped and in a matter of seconds his head began to throb in pain. He fell to his knees, dropping his staff to better plug his ears in hopes of silencing the voices. No such luck. It didn't take much longer for the exhaustion to catch up with him, and he toppled over on his side, closing his eyes and finally giving in to the sleepy spell cast by none other than the moon itself.
-_-'
"Oi! Frost!" Bunny's thick Australian accent rang throughout the forest as he searched for the winter spirit. North had told him to come out in the middle of the night looking for the little bugger, "I feel that he is not doing so good. I feel it..."
"Oh, strewth, North, please don't say it."
"In my belly!"
So, of course, he was dragged out here against his will to look for him. "A'right, where are ya, ya lil rascal? Play time's over, we're headin' back to the Pole now!" he hollered, hoping that Jack would come out of hiding, an expression written on his face that resembled his disappointment for not being able to close the day with a good laugh. Bunnymund made his way deeper into the forest, his ears straight up and his nose twitching as it caught Jack's scent. "Gotcha now, ya gumby." he stated with a smirk and began pursuing the scent. When he'd finally caught up to where Jack was, though, he wasn't expecting what he saw at all.
The Jack Frost he knew was strong, stubborn as a mule, and at times didn't really know when to quit. He was the spirit of fun, starting snowball fights wherever he went and refusing to let up when someone told him that he had to stop doing something.
But the boy in front of him couldn't possibly be the same Jack Frost. This boy was sprawled against he cold, snow-sprinkled ground in a sobbing mess, his feet covered with blisters and scratches and thorns. The lower part of his jeans had actually been ripped open, telling Bunny that he had been running instead of flying, which he usually did. He was covering his ears, his staff carelessly thrown aside. Jack always propped it up when he wasn't using it, no matter what. Despite his lack of any serious wounds or remnants of black nightmare sand, Bunny still hopped over to the young boy worriedly.
"Hey, Frostbite, are ya okay?" he said, knowing that Jack couldn't hear him over his sobbing and crying.
"Jack! What's the matter? Talk to me!" he tried again. Jack only burrowed his face in his arms, thinking maybe it would make him go away. But the Pooka wouldn't give up that easily.
Bunny, not really knowing what else to do at this point, gently pulled the boy into a warm hug. He could feel now that he'd been trembling. Had he seen Pitch? Had Pitch given him nightmares and fled when he heard him coming? Bunny asked these questions to Jack after managing to calm him down to the point where his breathing was somewhat normal. He answered no on all of them, leaving Bunny at a dead end.
"The-then why are you cryin' like this, mate?"
At first Jack was hesitant to respond, only hugging the bunny even tighter. When he found the courage to say it out loud, it was barely over a whisper. It didn't make the least sense to Bunny, but after hearing the words that came out of his mouth, he swore to himself that he would never again taunt this boy for not being seen or believed in.

"I thought I was all alone out here. There's only trees, but they can't talk to me; they WON'T talk to me. I got so scared of being alone again, so I tried to run from them. But they were everywhere, they were everywhere, and I was invisible to them, I was trapped. They scared me."

...

So I'm tired. Uploaded at 1 in the morning, started at 12. If you want me to make it into a story or continue or something, leave a comment, I'll see what I can do