Jack, not Jackson

Chapter 61: To Build or Burn Bridges.

Jack Frost's POV:
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Everyone was awake and Frost could deny them no more. Jack had them gathered in the room of requirement since the only other room big enough to house them all was currently full of mildly singed magical beings.

They deserved the truth, there was no denying that. But Jack's truth would take too long to tell. Nor did he think they deserved to bear it, even if they could. It was simply too heavy. One had to have a lot of time to get used to the weight.

The question was, how much of his soul to bear to a group of people he had known less than a year. How much of his story? His truth? How much of the weight before they faltered.
He sighs softly, determined to make this as light as possible without actually lying about his past.

The room stills to listen.
"I had a name other then Jack Frost once. It was given to me by a mother that tried to keep me from war's grasp. She tried so hard it killed her in the end. Her and my little sister. They weren't the first to die and they weren't the last." —

Everyone in the room remains entirely still as Jack continues to speak. This was a dangerous moment, like when you're teetering on the top of a massive wave, not sure yet if you're going to slide backwards or forwards.

"—i fought battles, and wars, and beings much more powerful then myself. I made friends and watched them die just as quickly. I was held captive and tortured. I was forced to dig my own grave. Forced to watch as they tore my world down around me.
And when it was all over... My father accused me of being a traitor."-

Jack's voice had gone a weary kind of emotionless. soft, but clear. Like a soldier giving an unsavory report. Trying—and failing— not to remember every. painful. detail.

"—he thought I was a traitor because in the end, I was the only one left alive. My father, under his brothers council, cursed me to live until I'd repaid every life that was taken on the battlefield. I was outcast and my magic froze, quite literally."-
Jack opens his hand and lets a snow cloud form in his palm, looking at his hand as he continues.

-"Since then I wander around on any battlefield I find and try to keep what happened to me from happening to anyone else."-

He looks up to meet several of the students eyes. He knows they understand what that feels like.

-"That was my beginning. My making, if you will. What shaped me and broke my magic. I can't tell everything.

It would hurt you all too much and you wouldn't believe the truth if I told all of it. That's somethings I have to bear alone for now. I'm sorry if it's not enough, but it's all I'm capable of giving right now.

Jack closes his eyes and waits for the accusations. The protests, riots, and torches that always, came when he bares even a portion of himself.
It doesn't come.

Harry is the first to move. He barrels into Jack like there was a time limit and Jack was about to fade away.
His tears falling onto Jack's shoulder.
Then, he pulls back, looks him in the eye, and uses words that Jack had said to all of them once.

"If anyone understands what you're going through Jack, it's the other people in this room."

Th tension snaps with Harry's words. The other students recognizing its origins. They press closer as he continues.
"You taught us that it's okay to heal at our own pace; so don't berate yourself for doing the same thing. I just have one question. How long did you have to bear this alone?"

Jack tries not to stiffen. He was entirely unused to people asking questions and being able to give an answer. Before he can think too long about it, Jack closes his eyes and ice begins to form on his skin, growing until it covers every inch of him like the thin layer of frost on grass in the mornings.

Then, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched; he takes a deep, quiet breath and the frost begins to sink into his skin, what's revealed underneath is the same pale color that Jack been before but he was covered, in scars.

They crisscross in a deadly pattern of death, disaster, and defiance that spoke out in a truth that no words would ever be capable of.  This was Jack's truth. And he wasn't hiding it from them anymore.

When Jack opens his eyes, he looks to Harry. His arms slowly spread in an encompassing gesture that show the multitude of overlapping years. thousands of stories written in pain. Each of them leaving a mark.
"It's been a long time Harry. A very long time."

For a moment, no one moves. In any other circumstance Jack would have used that time to get away. This time, he stays frozen where he is. Taking the step to trust them. After what seems like forever—(Jack still isn't the best with telling time anymore)— Lupin speaks.

All eyes turn to the Professor with scars on his face, taking in both his words, and his truths that stand like sentinels behind them.
"Scars don't mean you're damaged Jack. Doesn't mean you lost or won. It just means you fought. And that's all you can do, in the end.  That's all we've ever done."

Jack shakes his head, but the small smile on his face attests to amusement, not denial.
"Nearly 4000 years and I have yet to meet a group so like the first of those I've lost. The funny thing is Lupin. It doesn't hurt. This is the future. Not the past."

Harry squeaks as Jack says 4000 but it's covered by the sudden mix of voices. Everyone is grinning now. Wearing different shades of disbelief and unity as they walk towards the large door.

They'd met disaster head on yet again and this time, they proved that over coming something doesn't have to be with your fists, or your brains. It can be with loyalty and trust..if you just give it a chance.