Misdiagnosis Part 1

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Misdiagnosis Part I

...

It started with a headache.

Now, to be fair, that was nothing unusual; after all, everyone gets headaches now and then, immortals being no exception. So Jack had played it off as a minor irritation and continued pouring his focus into the snow day he was making for the kids in South America.

It was when he'd finished and was admiring his handy work that he finally realised how hot he was. That was strange. He was surrounded by his element in the middle of winter and he'd never felt warm like this after using his powers. His raised body temperature made his stomach roil queasily and he took a moment to lie in the snow and let it settle.

Jack and sickness was about as common as Ceres and giving compliments, but that didn't mean it didn't happen. Jack could remember a few occasions in the past where he'd been forced to take a few days off to let some minor illness (mostly colds (which was rather ironic, if you asked him)) pass. And, from the way his head was pounding and the unease of his stomach, he felt quite sure what he was suffering from now was the start of a stomach bug.

It was no big deal and he was far from worried. Last time he'd managed to catch such a thing he'd buried himself in a snowdrift for a while and slept it off. There was no reason this time around wouldn't be any different. All he had to do was find somewhere secluded so he wouldn't be disturbed and with enough snow to accommodate him.

Aconcagua wasn't too far away and was just about perfect, so Jack allowed the wind to gently lift him off the ground and began a slow journey towards the mountain.

By the time he reached one of the higher peaks, Jack's body was more than ready to release the contents of his stomach but he meticulously held back the urge, landing heavily in the snow. Any onlookers, if there had been any, would have considered it a crash landing. But there weren't any. So it wasn't.

On all fours, his staff resting beside him within easy reach, Jack began digging into the fluffy ice until he had created an indent just deep enough for him to curl up in. It was a small matter of making himself comfortable and covering his entire body (with the sole exception of his head) with snow before he was content to sleep off the stomach bug. Happy in the knowledge that he wasn't afraid (and therefore could expect to sleep in peace without any interruptions from Pitch) and that he had done enough work to allow for almost two weeks off (not that he thought he'd need that long), Jack allowed his eyes to slide closed and let the quiet whispers of the wind to lull his tired body to sleep.

When Jack next opened his eyes, it was to a hot, aching body and dampness. The snow he'd buried himself in was partially melted, kept in at least partially solid form by the wind and wilderness alone. He was pretty sure he had a fever. It would explain the fogginess of his head and why he felt so hot. His stomach was still protesting, but there was nothing in it to expel.

Blinking in an attempt to keep his eyes open, Jack gazed up at the full moon in the night sky looking down at him. Without a word, he rolled over onto his side, burrowing down deeper into the coldness and letting sleep reclaim him.

...

...

No one had seen Jack Frost in a week.

Now, this wasn't something they felt they should be panicking about; Jack was a free spirit who barely stayed in one place for more than a few hours. It was only to be expected that he would vanish every now and again. Of course, Sandy had taken it upon himself to keep his eyes open for the winter spirit, often allowing Jack to accompany him on his dream delivery when they did meet, and the tooth fairies had been known to occasionally take an impromptu break to chat with (read: drool at the teeth of) the boy. But neither Sandy nor Tooth's helpers (nor the fairy Queen herself) had seen their youngest for almost seven days.

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