Sons of Chaos

"You missed your older brother." Alexander states with a sneer. He sits down in a chair near the fire. That obviously wasn't the reason, but one can't help but hope.

Jack stays standing by the window and shakes his head. He leans against the sill and sighs, "I never loved you." He said flatly. "I'd be happy enough to never see you again if this new, yet old, problem hadn't arisen. And we're the same age asshole. There's no heat without the absence of it." He said and paused for a moment.

Alexander raised a brow. "What is it then?" He said, some part of his subconscious hiding what he was too afraid to face.

Jack ran a hand through his snowy white hair. A fever was building, the two weren't supposed to be together, much less cooperate.

Jack inspected his hands for a moment or so. None of the creases had changed. Everything was the same as it had been every other time he'd looked at them. Still, he seemed to delve into the pattern that never truly changed, never aged. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes still averted towards the ground. Did it always have to be like this? No normal family reunions like humans. No, they only ever met for one reason. Alex had to know that. But he was too gentle, too easily scared, too fragile. Still, some part of him had to be noticing the signs. If Jack was willing to tolerate the warmth, only one thing could be going on.

Jack huffed heavily and and his eyes flitted up, now a cold silver. "It's our father."

...

Almost everyone's heard of Jack Frost. Cold guy, makes snow, bla bla bla. But when speaking of him his brother is often overlooked, Alexander Ember.

Born of chaos, they now must defeat him who they called father.