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safyresky · 9 months

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Something Angry This Way Comes...

(Jacqueline Dies AU: Part 2! Finally! Read Part 1 HERE >:)

---

Somebody was at her daughter's grave.

This, of course, was a possibility. Winter knew that. Of course it was. After all, she had had aunties and a grandmother and a few little friends here and there. And her father came frequently, too. He always left fresh flowers. So did she. She liked to see them. It gave her a minute sense of relief to know that he was still on this earth with her.

Even if they hadn’t talked in centuries.

She hoped he felt the same when he saw her own offering at the base of the monument that bore the name of the little girl that was taken from them far too soon.

But Wednesday was her day to visit. Wednesday was open court at city hall, which meant that everyone who would visit would be tied up in politics and stuffiness and inquiries and all sorts of bureaucratic nonsense that would keep them busy for the day. And the only other person who would visit was locked away.

Nobody was around.

That’s why she had chosen Wednesdays.

Nobody would be.

But somebody was at her daughter’s grave.

The season sped up, her brow furrowing through a layer of ice as she got closer and closer to the marker. The figure became clearer. A woman. Standing in front of the monument with her hands on her hips. Something gold clutched in her right hand. Clothed in a familiar shade of dark blue. A pile of snow-white hair, perhaps meant to be curls but not quite curling, down to her mid back. Windswept, as though she had just met the wrong side of a north wind on a particularly stormy night.

She was within shouting distance. Winter hadn’t spoken in…quite some time. Not loudly, at least. But she tried. She inhaled; she opened her mouth, about to say EXCUSE ME quite loudly and forcibly and sternly, when something snapped under her foot.

The woman’s shoulders went up; she turned slightly, staring at Winter.

She gasped. The eyes, same colour as hers but a shade or two darker. The nose, an equal mix of hers and Blaise’s, like both kids had had, but not as crooked as his. Her chin, her lips, her hairline—she knew exactly who this woman was. But how? How was it possible—it wasn’t. Not in April, and certainly not this early in the month.

The bouquet fell to the ground; Winter’s hands flew to her mouth, eyes pricking and heart racing as all the pieces clicked into place.

Her daughter was standing at her own grave.

---

This was NOT how her day should have been going. She had not expected to be standing at her own fucking grave when she woke up very much alive this morning.

She was SUPPOSED to be doing a favour for Myles. He had needed a pot to trap some kind of chaos-y shade in because he had accidentally freed it and then promptly broken the pot when he tried to trap it again. The other Legates were preoccupied and he was trying to wrangle it and couldn’t grab a pot while he was chasing the thing, and she had, of course, offered to help. After all, she wasn’t doing much else; it was April, wintery things were tapering off, there were two weeks left before Summer and Winter went on this year’s vacation, and for all intents and purposes she and Jack were done for the first part of the year and quite relieved about it, too. It had been a nasty March and Winter was presently brewing a nasty ice storm for April that Spring was sure to be very, very mad about.

So she started ransacking the manor to find a pot that looked similar enough to the one Myles had described, hoping to finish up fast because it was date night and Dite was taking her to the KEG which, yes, a totally regular ordibeing restaurant, but she loved it. The steak, the atmosphere, and how FANCY it tried to be when it really wasn’t a FANCY restaurant, when you thought about it. She thought it was hilarious (and enjoyed the steak); Dite thought she was hilarious (and enjoyed seeing her ham it up whenever they went).

While she tore through the gallery, Jack had shouted about needing to do a thing for Father Time; she shouted back a see ya, wondering if maybe there were some old vases and such in the basement that would work.

Ten seconds later, a time splinter had appeared in her room, trying it’s very best to kill her, Jack saving her ass in a nick of time, and promptly roping her into the time-related debacle he had found himself dealing with that, SURPRISE, is your problem now too, little flurry!

So off she had gone with him, into the endless expanse of timelines and alternate universes, chasing the time splinter from one universe to the next, trying to lure it to the universe that had created it so they could finally destroy it.

But the stupid sliver had gotten smart.

It had managed to separate the pair, shooting them out in two different universes. They had tried to grab each other before being shot right out of the timestream, but unfortunately both of the frosty Frosts were a little bit on the shorter side and the last thing she had seen before nearly SPLATTING on the frozen solid tundra was her fingers slip right out of her brother’s as he was dragged into a deep purple portal opposite from her, disappearing as she was sucked into her own time portal with a disgusting sounding SLURP.

She had just barely made enough snow to cushion her fall before she was unceremoniously dropped into this freezing cold universe, the portal snapping shut above her.

In her hand, the timepiece had started cracking.

“Oh no. No, no, NO, not THIS shit again,” she said desperately, hoping that when she looked at the time piece it wouldn’t be doing what she thought it was doing—and it was, yep. The purple chrono-quartz below the intricate golden lines snaped and cracked into three pieces, phasing through the time piece with a deep glow and a low thrum to match. The three pieces floated way up into the sky, then blasted forward, much to her dismay.

She watched them disappear over the horizon with a sigh, leaving a trail of purple dust in its wake.

She knew the drill. Something in this universe needed to be fixed before she could try to escape it.

So, with a sigh, she started forward, following the time trail before it disappeared completely.

---

And that’s how, an hour later, she found herself face to face with her own bloody grave.

It was a nice marker, for sure. Blues and yellows with snowflakes etched all over it, a fluffy blanket of the stuff sitting on top of the three peaks a foot or two above her head. Her name was etched into the stone, as clean as though it were carved yesterday, but the date on the stone showed otherwise. She felt her breath hitch in her throat when she read it.

556 CE.

The Day of Darkness.

She had died.

Jack had killed her dead.

“Oh,” she said, quietly. “Fuck.”

She glanced around, awkwardly; it was quiet. Empty. A wind briefly ruffled the vines and ivy twirling up the side of the monument.

The chrono quartz had gone this way. The trail, now gone, had ended right above the monument. Her monument. Her fucking GRAVE.

If she was dead, she was dead. There was no fixing that.

But there was something she did need to fix, and quite frankly, the less time she had to spend in THIS timeline the better. Timelines where she didn’t exist were one thing. But a timeline where she had died? Heebie-jeebies galore.

So, she got to work.

She walked around the monument a few times, careful not to disturb the flowers that had been left at the base. She scrutinized the thing top down, feeling more and more unsettled the longer she searched—but nothing.

The pieces weren’t there.

“But the trail...” she mumbled to herself.

With a sigh, she ran her hands through her hair, resting them on her hips. Trail had gone here. Time pieces were not here. Where had they gone, then? Had someone come by and taken them in the hour it had taken her to walk up here? Although, the time pieces could phase through objects. And planes, too. Did the pieces maybe—

There was a crunch; she jumped, startled, her shoulders shooting up.

Someone had joined her.

She turned her head, gasping when she saw who was steadily rushing up the slight incline towards her.

“Winter?!”

The woman, now in front of her, certainly looked like her mother. The small gasp sounded just like her; the height checked out. But her eyes were cold as could be, even colder than she had ever seen when her Winter had been frozen. There was no warmth on her face; her hair, usually thawed and perched in a sort of snowman esque double top bun Jacqueline couldn’t ever figure out, was frozen stiff. Her body was shaking, but her hair did not move. It was in one big, sleek bun; even the sticky-outties she had that Jacqueline had to deal with too were somehow smoothed back and in place (a miracle if there ever was one. There was a reason Jacqueline called them her hair sticky-outties).

“Oh my word,” the woman croaked. “It is you.”

She collapsed to the ground, straight up sobbing, and Jacqueline had never felt so uncomfortable in her entire life. She sighed, gently sitting down on her knees and placing a hand, very carefully, very softly, on her Mother’s knee.

“Well, yes, but also, no.”

Winter’s face shot up. “Of course not. It’s not a convergence date.”

“I gathered. I’ve never seen this place so empty in my life.”

“And you—she—you. You were little when you. When you.”

“Died.”

Winter nodded.

“Yeah, I noticed,” she said, gesturing back to the date in the stone.

“I don’t understand—”

“That makes two of us,” Jacqueline said. “You don’t happen to have three pieces of chrono quartz on you? Time crystals, I think they’re also called? They would’ve appeared very suddenly about uh,” she reached into her pocket and pulled something long and flat out. “An hour or so ago?”

Stunned into silence still, unsure what to even do or say, choking on all the emotions in her throat, Winter shook her head no.

“Dang. That would’ve made this way easier.”

“Made what easier? I don’t understand,” she said, smothering the emotions and finding her voice. “What is going on? I’d thank you kindly to explain it to me,” Winter snapped, still shaking a bit. “Who are you?”

“Jacqueline. Jacqueline Frost. Your daughter. That’s who I am. But I’m not from this timeline,” she answered, thrusting her hand back into her pocket and rummaging about. She pulled out a long, light blue, leather wallet, and cracked one of three sides open. She slid it onto Winter’s lap, pointing at the photo in the clear pocket on front, usually reserved for a licence. “This is the timeline I’m from. See? There’s me. And you and Dad,” she said, pointing to the couple above her.

Hands shaky, Winter reached out and brought the wallet up to her face. She could scarce recognize the couple in the photo. Blaise was laughing, his eyes crinkling in the corners. He held her tightly, his suit molten, his hair living up to his namesake (she missed his fiery locks). The woman beside him was even more unrecognizable. Warm. Not frozen at all. Her hair a messy double bun, with her own laugh lines to match his. They held onto each other tightly. She could almost feel the ghost of his warm embrace, the surety that came with one of his hugs.

And there was the woman in front of her. Her daughter, her baby girl. Grinning with snow falling down her face, a pale hand having smooshed a snowball right onto the top of her head as the photo was snapped. Winter glanced over, briefly, to the figure beside this Jacqueline.

That was her baby boy.

Beside her. Alive and well. Both of them alive and well.

She looked up at Jacqueline, her eyes wide. “It is you. But it isn’t. And this is how we are, where you come from?”

Jacqueline nodded, gently pushing Winter’s thumbs down. “And there’s more of us.”

Winter looked back down, moving her thumbs the rest of the way. “Oh.”

Below the two eldest were a pair of twins, most certainly. Both took after Blaise; both had fiery hair, and both were making the silliest faces you could possibly imagine. Fingers stretching the mouth of the girl, her tongue sticking out. The boy blowing a raspberry, making little bunny ears behind the girl’s head.

“Oh, look at them. Little spitfires. We always wanted to have more kids.”

“I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t get involved, I should just find my shit and get out of here, but holy shit, I need to know. What happened to you?” Jacqueline asked, gently sliding the wallet out of her mother’s hands.

“I—we—oh. Oh, I don’t quite know, come to think of it. Nobody’s ever asked,” she said, another sob escaping. “I—we. It. Everything was so—” she flailed her hands in the air a bit, trying desperately to find the words she wanted to say.

“It’s okay, take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Not until I find those crystals,” she said, glancing surreptitiously at the monument behind her with a frown.

“He killed you,” she finally said, her breath hitching. “You died in my arms. There was nothing we could do. The storm…it…we couldn’t get to the Springs in time and you. You died.” She pressed the base of her palms to her eyes with a shaky inhale. “He ran. Your Father and I laid you to rest. We watched your little tiny body pop off into Rosehaven. And then we had to face what would come next.”

“Both kids gone in different ways,” Jacqueline mused, looking thoughtful.

Winter nodded, without looking up. The icy white dress she wore blurred beneath her tears. She sniffled. “Yes. And your father, he had to find your brother. But he couldn’t bring himself to start, he was feeling so much—and he hardened his heart not long after I did the same to myself.”

“Oh,” Jacqueline said, realizing what had probably happened. Blaise was a very dutiful sprite, though very emotional. And she had heard the stories from the both of them, about the war of succession, and how Blaise had tried, fruitlessly, to reason with him, not wanting to hurt his brother—but learning that if he wanted to end it, do what needed to be done…he’d have to put aside those feelings to focus on the task at hand.

And so he had.

“We drifted, I suppose. We didn’t talk; he threw himself into trying to bring you justice,” Winter said, gently laying her hand on Jacqueline’s cheek. Her breath hitched again; Jacqueline brought up her shoulder, squishing Winter’s hand between it and her cheek with a soft smile.

“That wasn’t going to bring me back,” Jacqueline said softly.

“That’s what I told him!” Winter said with a huff. “He didn’t reply. A conversation with him was rare. So, I found solace in the mountains. And eventually I made them my home,” she said, with a helpless little shrug.

“So I died, and you ran off to the mountains and became the new Snow Queen.”

"I suppose...yes. I did.”

“Why not come see me on a convergence? They aren’t rare. They happen once or twice a year.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to. Neither of us could.”

Jacqueline stood up. “So let me get this straight,” she said, her prior annoyance coming right back, with a slight pinch of anger dusted on top. “I died, and instead of supporting each other and sharing your grief, you and Blaise both decided to harden your hearts and run away from home? And you didn’t come to see me?!”

“Your father didn’t run away from home,” Winter said, standing up gracefully and folding her hands in front of her. “He’s still there.”

“But he ran away from his home,” Jacqueline said, pointing at Winter’s heart. “And so did you. All the way up in the mountains! And you left me alone, waiting?!”

“I visit you every week!” Winter snapped. “So does your father!”

“You visit my MARKER! NOT my ME! I can guarantee you, Winter, that that little girl sat and waited on the other side for the very first convergence after she passed, hoping to see her Mom and Dad and Brother again.”

“HOW could you KNOW that?!”

“BECAUSE I AM HER! And I may not have died, but when this,” she said, gesturing violently at the date on the stone, “happened to me, and I recovered BECAUSE you and Dad worked together to keep me stable UNTIL you could blaze a trail to the springs, I waited! Every day, for so long, I sat and waited and hoped that he’d come back but he didn’t. And now, now, I’m learning, that not only did he not come back, nor did my PARENTS?!” Jacqueline let out a little squawk of rage, stomping around this version of her Mother. “She’s still a little four-hundred-year-old girl over there! Do YOU think she understands all THIS?!” Jacqueline said, gesturing at all of Winter. “NO! SHE DOESN’T because I DIDN’T until I was like, fourteen hundred! And she doesn’t get that luxury. She doesn’t get to grow up and figure it out herself, so the LEAST you COULD’VE done was gone to visit her during a goddess damned convergence!”

Winter was stunned. What horrible things to say, she thought. But they were true. And Jacqueline was right. Winter felt…lost. More so than usual. A lot of. Things. Were coming to the surface and she was utterly speechless.

“Nothing to say? That’s not surprising, you’re about as frosted up as they come, eh Mom? I’ll leave you to your fake visit, then,” Jacqueline said, stomping back down the way Winter had come up, a trail of frost sprawling out from her boot every time one hit the ground.

“Wait! Jacqueline! Where are you going?!”

“HOME,” she said angrily, flashing one last frustrated look back up at Winter before disappearing on the spot.

Winter was left to her solitude once more. Alone. She should have been relieved.

But she wasn’t.

“Home…” she murmured to herself. She gasped, eyes growing wide. “Oh dear,” she said, setting off after Jacqueline.

---

How had this day gotten so out of control?!

She couldn’t believe what she had seen. First her own grave, then a mother so far lost in her grief she was barely recognizable? And learning what had happened? The Convergences existed for a reason—to see the loved ones you had lost, if only for a brief night. It was a nice time! It was fun! Roseterra glowed and would be filled with both the living magibeans and the dead, laughing and catching up and talking about what they had missed on both ends of the things, and god if she had died, she knew she would’ve waited in the hopes she’d see Mom and Dad and Jack again and—

“Oh my gods. Jacqueline. FOCUS,” she said to herself, as she pushed open the rusty gates and stomped up the pathway. The roses were sad. Wilting, but not dead. The ground looked weird, not covered in snow but frozen solid. The Manor loomed ahead. Pristine as the day it was painted white. Not a scorch mark in sight. The windows were dark and cold; not a single light was on. Her home, usually cheery and loud and happy, was cold. Cold, dark, and empty.

“This is all sorts of fucked up,” she said out loud.

What was she going to do today originally? Oh yeah! Find a pot, trap a. Thingy, then enjoy a steak at the Keg with the love of her life. Perfect day! Would have been a PERFECT day!

But now she had seen her own grave, confronted her lost in grief mother, yelled at her for ignoring her daughter even though she was dead, and was now stomping up the derelict stairs to the front porch of Frost Manor, the wooden deck boards greying, not a single piece of colourful mismatched patio furniture in her sights. What even was this place?

She didn’t bother to knock; she tried the door.

It wasn’t locked.

The door swung in with a creak, a cold gust of wind blowing down the hallways. It echoed, a low hum throughout the empty halls. The ghost of what could have been. The windowpanes rattled; the cobwebs, built up over time, gently waved in the draft. She ran a finger along one of the shoe racks as she closed the door, a trail left in the dust.

She walked in, the metallic clink of her boots echoing throughout the cold marble hall. The door to the front room with the window she waited under was closed shut. Ha, she thought, the symbolism not lost on her.

The blue parlour was closed, too; she tried the handle. Locked. Made her way into the kitchen.

It looked lived in. It was cleaner than the rest of the house. The plants that Spring kept giving them still sat in their perches, but they had seen much better days, most certainly; and there were less of them than she remembered. She stepped around the table (noting that the leaf had been taken out and it had been brought down to its smallest possible size) and poked her head into the living room.

Empty. Pristine. Dusty. Cobwebby. Severe lack of throws and cushions.

“Oh, Dad. What have you done,” she mused, leaving the doorway and heading back out into the hall. She glanced up the stairs. It was dark as ever up there, the draft howling down the steps. She shoved past, beelining to the other side of the steps.

Ballroom. Library. Closed. No light.

But the office…the dullest glow under the crack.

She stepped carefully; lightly, like the first few snowflakes that slowly drifted in on the wind, landing on the ground softly. Quietly. She placed her hand on the doorknob. She frowned. Maybe…just to be safe.

She knocked; her fist flattening, splayed out on the door.

There was no answer.

She turned the knob, opening the door a crack. Peeking one eye in, she glanced around.

The fireplace was on, but not roaring. The embers softly cackled, the fire out of food. Jacqueline stepped through the door, glancing around the office. The firewood was right where he kept it, back at home.

She grabbed a couple of smaller logs, not quite twigs but not quite sticks, and gently lay them in the fireplace. She may not have been able to create fire, but Blaise sure as shit made sure his kids could start fires regardless of their elemental backgrounds.

The flames licked the logs hungrily, the simmer becoming a crackle. Satisfied, Jacqueline moved away from the fireplace, trailing her fingers on the solid mahogany trim of the desk as she surveyed the office.

It was certainly lived in, that’s for sure. The chair was worn, the cushion in dire need of reupholstering. The desk was a tidy mess, piles of paper stacked neatly. Orderly. It was a stark difference from her dad’s office back at home, with papers laying around all over the place, pens and quills beside half written notes, the coaster sporting rings from numerous warm drinks.

The coaster on this Blaise’s desk was too clean. Far too clean.

There was a thunk out in the hall. The door slammed shut; a heavy footfall approaching. Jacqueline gasped, turning quickly to face the door. The coaster went flying, hitting the mantle as loud as it possibly could, and falling to the ground with a clatter, making sure to do three flips before settling for MAXIMUM NOISE, of course. Just her luck on this fine, fine, day.

“Who’s there?” a voice said. It was familiar, but also…not. It was gruffer than usual; a little hoarse. And there wasn’t much warmth. Yeah, a weird sentiment, but when her dad spoke, you could just feel a sort of warmth, usually. She backed up, behind the desk, finding herself shifting into a defensive stance and unsure why.

“I heard you drop the coaster,” he said, his footsteps coming towards the office. “Final warning. Who’s. There.”

The door was shoved open, and Jacqueline gasped once again, this time, in surprise.

“What the fuck happened to you?!” she said, equal parts confused and almost…disgusted, the same time that Blaise growled and said, “Who the hell do you think you are?!”

It wasn’t that he looked bad. He just didn’t look like Blaise. Like, he did but he didn’t. Granted, Jacqueline had never actually seen what a frozen summer sprite looked like. Or I guess stony, she thought, as she quickly eyed him up and down, still in her defensive stance.

His fiery hair was out, but not the usual greying-orange. It was dark. Ashen. Grey flakes drifted down every so often. It was a fire that had burnt completely, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. His usual molten suit was dark as obsidian. Like lava that had rapidly cooled. His face was lined, but not in the way she was used to; he looked frownier than he did at home, his smile lines faint as could be. Though she could make out the faint crinkles of crow’s feet still near his eyes. It should’ve been a welcome sight, you know? Like, maybe her Dad was still in there somewhere.

But it was not. It only made her feel more unsettled.

“Like, did someone like, set you on fire with fire that wasn’t like, fire you’re fireproofed to? Is that ash coming off of your HEAD?!”

“I don’t answer to you,” Blaise said, taking another step into the office. “You answer to me. You’ve broken into my house.”

“You left the door unlocked! I’d hardly call that breaking and entering.”

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“I know who you look like, but that’s not possible. There’s no way. Tell me, is this a trick? Is he trying something? Centuries without a peep, and now this? Was he biding his time? You sound just like him.” He took a step closer with each question, Jacqueline stepping back with each of his steps. He rounded the desk as she rounded the other side, the door now behind her. “You have ten seconds,” he said, with a fierce air of finality.

Jacqueline inhaled, shoved her hands in her pockets, and spoke very, very fast.

“I am exactly who you think I am but also not quite! I’m not from this timeline, I’m from a different one and I have proof, here you GO,” she said, tossing her wallet at the ashen man in front of her. “And please don’t burn it. It has all my ID in it. Which is kind of important. I still get carded at the LCBCS.”

Blaise looked up at her, his orange eyes stony. Suspicious. His lips were pressed together in a tight line, but he humoured her; he had been presented with evidence, after all. Fair is fair. He watched her wearily, cracking open the wallet without looking.

“Clear pocket. Right on the first fold.”

“Hands where I can see them,” he growled.

“Alright, alright, chill,” Jacqueline said, putting her hands up and glaring right back. “Take a looksie. See for yourself.”

Only when her hands were above her head did Blaise glance down at the photo.

His breath hitched. He tried to take it all in at once; all six figures. He glanced back up as he reached the middle, matching the young woman in the photo below him with the young woman looking a little more pissed off with each passing second in front of him. The Jack look, as Winter once called it, when he saw his eldest beside this version of Jacqueline. And below them, below the frosty pair, was a fiery pair, making goofy faces. Summer sprites. Like him.

Twins.

“They get along?”

“Too well some days, which would be worrying if they didn’t occasionally tackle each other down for a quick little fistfight. But like, they’re not going to start a war, since we both know that that’s what you’re thinking about, eh?”

Blaise didn’t reply. He glanced back down at the photo. He snapped his fingers, a little flame appearing on his pointer finger. He touched it to the wick of the candle beside him, surveying the photo in better light. Winter. His darling wife. Toasty warm and laughing, looking up at him with all the love in the world. The flame flickered; he looked at the man beside her. Lit up like the goat in Sweden during the holiday season, all smiles and laughter. He tilted the photo. The glare from the candlelight obscured it, his own stony face looking back at him instead.

He fell back into his seat, shoving the wallet across the desk as he collapsed, holding his head in both hands, completely messing up his ashy hair.

“What is going on here.”

Jacqueline put down her hands, heading over to the east side of the office. “Well, in the timeline I’m from, I survived,” she said, dragging over the spare chair. “You and Mom staunched the bleeding and stabilized me. Kept a close eye on me until you could get to the springs and finish the healing process. You, mostly. Once the wounds were taken care of, Mom passed right out,” she finished, the chair stopping in front of his desk. “But right when it happened, you worked together. And you both saved me. Amazing what happens when you work together, instead of, you know, hiding away from one another and hardening your hearts and not talking ever at all and ALSO, not VISITING ME!”

“HEY. I visit you every day! Except Wednesdays. Town Hall is on Wednesdays.”

“And convergences,” Jacqueline snapped, slamming her hands on the desk before sitting down on the chair, surveying Blaise with a very, angry look. “You don’t come on the one day you could actually see me. What the fuck, man.”

“Watch your language, missy. You may be from a different timeline, but I’m still your father.”

“You’re actually nothing like my Blaise,” Jacqueline said with a sniff, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “He—”

“SAVED you. I get it. I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“No. I mean yeah, he did. But no. He was there for his family. Looks to me like you haven’t been. They needed you, Blaise. And you did this instead. And I know for a fact that you needed them, too.”

“I—” Blaise stopped, opening and closing his mouth. He frowned, clasping his hands together and placing them in front of his face, lost for words.

“Mhmm. Yeah. That’s what I thought,” she said, shifting in her seat. “Look, I won’t be all up in your, uh, ash for too long, Blaise,” she said. “I came for one thing. Well, two things, actually.”

“What, to yell?”

“No, that just comes with the territory. I am a very angry sprite. It’s very inconvenient most days.”

“You inherited my temper, I see.”

“Regrettably,” Jacqueline said, scrunching her face. “But that’s not important right now. What I need to know is why the hell. This!” she said, gesturing to him. “Why did you do this?”

Blaise’s posture, up until then, had been immaculate. But when the ghost of his daughter demanded to know why this had happened, his shoulders fell; his back slouched, his stony façade turned sad. “You were murdered,” he simply said. “By my son. Your own brother. I couldn’t let him go unpunished! You died. But he was—he is my son. But you were—are—my daughter! My emotions were blinding me to what needed to be done, once again, and so I—”

“Got stoned.”

Blaise frowned. “Har-har,” he said, unlaughingly.

“I don’t like puns,” Jacqueline clarified.

“A shame,” Blaise said back. “That was a good one.”

“I never would’ve guessed,” Jacqueline snapped back. “So you did this, and then went on a whole catch me if you can kind of journey with Jack?”

“He needed to be brought to justice! You needed justice!”

“DID I?” Jacqueline demanded, shooting out of her seat. The chair teetered behind her briefly, choosing not to fall over. “Because I am DEAD. I don’t need ANYTHING when I’m DEAD, Dad. And here’s the thing, right? We’re not ordibeings. We’re MAGIBEINGS. And our afterlife actually lets us VISIT WITH THE DEAD ON CERTAIN DAYS! YEARLY! SOMETIMES TWICE A YEAR! So instead of going to see me on a convergence, you decided you knew what I needed and just, just, became obsessed with this chase and for what? I’M not the one who needed justice. You thought that I did. That you did. But that’s not what you needed and we both know that, don’t we?”

“How could you know all of this?”

“Because I AM Jacqueline! I am that little girl who died in her mother’s arms, but I didn’t die! And do you know what I did when I got better, Dad? Hmm? I WAITED. I waited for my brother to come home, and he never did. So I can guarantee that your little girl waited convergence after convergence, hoping to see you and Mom and even JACK, but none of you came! None of you came! You left her waiting. Left ME waiting!”

“We couldn’t—I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to go and face you after all that had happened—”

“Save it. I’m not the one who needs to hear it. She is. And she’s not here. I am.”

She took a deep breath in, composing herself, pushing off the desk and heading towards the door.

“I’m going to go now before I EXPLODE. Just one more thing before I go,” she said, turning around. “You wouldn’t happen to have come into possession of three time crystals about, oh, an hour and a half or so ago?”

“Some what?”

“That’s a no, then? UGH. Lady damn it ALL,” she said, stomping down the hall.

“Jacqueline, wait!” Blaise called after her, rushing to catch up with her. “Where are you going?”

“I have one more place to check for those time crystals. You and I both know where I’m headed next,” she said, a literal icy undercurrent in her voice. “Tell me where you put him.”

“I—you can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“Like hell it is! I can handle myself, and you know that if you don’t tell me I’ll find out one way or the other, Blaise. So tell me. Where. Did. You. Put. Him.”

Blaise sighed. “We built an entire prison just for him. The rehabilitation programs at the Pen did nothing for him; he refused to even try. He escaped multiple times, and each and every time I was there, ready to find out how and stop it from ever happening again. One too many escapes later, and the Assembly decided to fund a whole new prison just for him. A solitary. That’s what we’ve called it. The Solitary. It’s in the East.”

“Oh my goddess of the springs. A whole ass prison just for him? This is the worst timeline I have been in today. I hate it here. Right, I’m gonna head out and do that, and you know what you’re going to do? YOU’RE going to go to your wife and give her a hug, for Frost’s sake! You need your loved ones, Blaise. Stop being stupid.”

And before he could reply, she stomped out the front door and poofed into a shower of light blue sparks and snowflakes, disappearing.

“Jacqueline!” he shouted, though he knew his efforts were in vain.

She was long gone.

The shout echoed. But it sounded…off. It sounded…

It wasn’t his voice.

He stepped out onto the porch. A figure stood by the gates. Graceful; shapely.

He’d recognize her anywhere.

“Winter?” he said, quietly.

“Blaise,” she replied, just as quietly.

Something had changed. Something shifted. They both stared across the path at each other, the winds howling.

They ran.

They both ran, beelining down the path, crashing into a familiar, comforting embrace. She still smelt the same; Blaise pressed her head close to his chest, breathing her in deeply. And he was still so sturdy; his hugs were still so very comforting, Winter was happy to learn, as she pressed herself against his chest, her ear on his heart. Hearing it beat.

“I’m so sorry,” they both said at the same time, still hugging one another.

“I don’t know why I didn’t open up,” Blaise said. “I’m sorry. I should have shared with you. I should have supported you.”

“And I you,” Winter said, squeezing him tighter. “I’ve had the strangest encounter today, and I... I needed you. Need you. Miss you.”

Blaise sighed, content, squeezing her tightly. “And I you. Tell me something, Winter. Did you see an adult Jacqueline today?”

“I did,” she said, pushing herself off his chest to look up at his face. She placed her palm on his cheek, rubbing it softly with her thumb. She smiled. “Did you?”

“I did, too,” he said, placing his chin on top of her head. The tinniest peck pressed onto his neck. His heart fluttered; sparks drifted up from his head. “She yelled at me. A lot.”

“She yelled at me, too. But she said some things that got me thinking, and brought it all back. As if seeing our fully grown dead daughter wasn’t enough, she was also. Oh. There’s this phrase the winds have whispered to me...ah! Yes. She was spitting facts, and all of that brought everything back. I don’t know why I shied away from you, darling. I needed you. I need you. I love you. And I’m sorry.”

Now Blaise pulled away, his large hand on Winter’s small face. He gave her a warm smile, rubbing her cheek as well. “Not as sorry as I am. I need you, too. So much. I love you,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “And I’m sorry for pulling away and throwing myself into the stupid game of cat and mouse Jack and I played—oh. Oh shit,” Blaise said, blanching.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Jacqueline. She's heading his way,” Blaise said, squeezing Winter’s arms. “We need to hurry. I don’t know what she’s planning on doing, but if she’s headed towards him...”

“There is no way that could possibly be good,” Winter agreed, rushing after Blaise, the two heading east as fast as they could.

---

Deny it all as he might, she’s still always just there.

It was very irritating.

She’s stopped giggling; there’s no whispers of whoops or silly sounds anymore. She’s just there, looking sad, and he brings the book closer to his face so he doesn’t have to see the ghost he trapped in the Solitary with him. The Solitary. He really oughta think of a better name.

But he just doesn’t have the energy, the drive, the…whatever.

There was a reason he froze the place solid and stayed put.

He tried to focus on his book. Reading the same sentence, over and over. He exhaled, annoyed, putting the book down and expecting to see her in front of him.

But she’s gone. There are no flickers of white or quick wisps of messy dark hair turning a corner.

It’s empty. The wind blows through the area, mournfully. Even with the furniture he had gotten, the other odds and ends, it is still loud and echoey. He sighed.

Creak.

What was that?

He strained his ears. The creaking was getting louder, shifting into a loud CRACK, somewhere above him. He looked up so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

The ceiling was splitting.

“What?” he croaked, his voice not as hoarse as you’d expect.

Down the hall, there was a smack. A bang. A shink or two. A thunk against the wall, and a low groan.

“Marcel?” he called out.

Footsteps were approaching, but they didn’t sound familiar. They’re boots. There’s a weird metal click to them. He shot up, hands aglow, ready for whatever. Whoever was coming his way.

But nothing could've prepared him for who stepped through the tunnel.

She was an inch or two shorter than him; very much most definitely a winter sprite. She stopped in the doorway, looking at him unimpressed, an eyebrow raised. He found himself backing up; he could see the similar features, and his thoughts drifted back to the ghost of the small girl he was always seeing. Add a touch of roundness and a bit of baby fat and unfreeze the hair, and, well.

It’s her. It’s one hundred percent her.

“Marcel’s DEAD,” she said.

“What?” Jack asked, what little colour there was in his face draining.

“Ha! I’m kidding. He’ll be fine,” she replied with a small, impish smile. It dropped suddenly; she squinted. “Probably. So quick question for you, Jack,” she continued, walking right up to him without a care in the world. “Was the several meters of ice to keep people out? Or keep you in? Because let me tell you, it was a shit job. I cracked through it easily.”

“You can’t be here,” he heard himself saying. “You shouldn’t be here! You…I…”

“YEAH. I am AWARE. You killed me dead. This is the FOURTH TIME TODAY someone has REMINDED ME, as if you can easily shake coming face to face with your own damn grave marker,” she said with a huff. “So what’s you’re deal? I’m surprised you let yourself get captured. My GOD you look frosty,” she finished, right beside him now. She knocked on his frozen spikes.

“Hey! Cut it out,” he snapped, pushing her hand away.

“No need to be nippy,” she sassed back, hands on her hips.

Jack straight up recoiled. He was pretty damn positive now: the sprite in front of him was his long dead sister. A little younger than she would’ve been now, had she survived. Had she lived. Had he not…killed her. He backed up a few steps, the edge of the plush seat hitting the back of his knees.

All the thoughts, all the feelings, all of the things he had wondered that he had pushed down down down came screaming up to the surface as he collapsed into his chair.

For once in his life, he found himself utterly speechless.

“Okay, so I’m going to guess you’ve just been living in denial,” his sister said, not a ghost but actually real, and alive, and in front of him. “You sit there and process, I don’t plan on being long. I’ve about HAD IT up to HERE,” she half yelled, putting her hand high above her head, “with this AWFUL timeline. You know how my day started, Jack? I just needed to find a pot for Myles. That’s it! To trap a little chaotic shade! And NOW I’ve been pulled into yet ANOTHER alternate universe, and goddess above, I thought the one where Bernard and I were a THING was bad, this one is by FAR worse!” she said, her arms crossed at her chest briefly before she dropped them, the ground around her cracking in response. “I’ve already tried Mom, and Dad, and if you don’t have what I need then I am going to have to do something very, very crazy that only one other person I know of has done before and lived to tell the tale. Did three time crystals, little purple-ish quartz looking things, appear around you about, uh,” she pulled something out of her pocket and squinted at it. “Three hours ago?”

Still speechless, Jack shook his head no.

“Goddess damn it ALL!” his very alive, very angry little sister said, throwing her hands down and stomping her foot. The cracks below her deepened. “I have a GIRLFRIEND, I don’t have the option to seduce a powerful castor right now!”

“You have a girlfriend?” Jack found himself asking.

“What, you got a problem with that?”

“No, of course not, I—”

“Yeah, I know dude. I’ve met some of your partners,” she said with a smirk that made Jack blush a bit and clear his throat. “Some of them are real cool. There’s one that Fiera’s like, determined to fight for some reason that’s very baffling to all of us—”

“Who’s Fiera?”

“Oh. Right,” Jacqueline says. “I died so the twins never came around, right. Here you go,” she said, throwing a long leather object his way.

Snatching it clean out of the air, he flipped open the unbuttoned side, coming face to face with a wallet sized family photo.

“Fiera’s the girl on fire, and Fino’s her twin, the boy who is also on fire. The universe I come from, where I survive, they exist.”

Jack stared at the him in the photo, happily smooshing a pile of snow on his Jacqueline’s head, their younger siblings below them making funny faces, and their parents above them, together, lost in each other’s eyes. He felt a pang in his chest as he came to the quiet realization that, oh. He kind of. He kind of missed them.

A pale hand stretched out in his peripheral. He glanced over; Jacqueline had her hand out, looking unimpressed. “Wallet please,” she said.

He snapped it closed, passing it back to her.

“Thank you,” she said, shoving it back in her pocket. She turned on her heel, heading back out the way she came.

“Wait! Don’t. Don’t go yet,” he said, unsure why but knowing he couldn’t let her leave just yet.

She stopped in the doorway, standing still; head tilted.

“I didn’t—I never meant to. It wasn’t my intent—” he took a deep breath. “You know, right? You know it wasn’t. That I didn’t. That I—”

“Never wanted to hurt me,” she said softly, still not turning around. “It was an accident. You were having a big emotions night and your powers were going crazy, and your hand slipped. Yeah. I know. You told me. That is, my you told me.”

His shoulders sagged; he could feel something...wet trailing down his cheeks. He touched his cheek, brushing away tear tracks of all things.

His sister watches. For the briefest of moments, as their gazes meet, the fury falls away. She looks so very concerned, and he can see her hands twitch upwards, not in defence or offence but as though she wanted to reach out and give him comfort.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, voice barely a whisper.

And then it’s gone. The fury is back. She took a deep breath in, nostrils flaring. “It’s not me who needs to hear that,” she replied, rage withheld. “It’s her.”

And for a moment, he feels her. The little ghost he trapped in the solitary with him. He whips around.

A flicker of white.

A tress of dark hair, disappearing round the bend.

He turns back around.

The other ghost, the real one, is gone.

---

Stepping over the unconscious guards and hopping out of the Jacquie-sized crack in the ice she had made, Jacqueline stopped, bending over, hands on her knees.

She could feel herself breathing very fast. Her heart was racing; there was a nasty heat behind her eyes. She wanted so badly to just stop, and cry, and sob, because holy shit. Holy FUCKING shit. This day is so. What the fuck. This TIMELINE is so. What the fuck.

“OKAY Jacqueline,” she said out loud, snapping back up. “Focus.”

Her voice sounded heavy. She took a deep breath in; held it a bit, staring at the tips of her fingers before finally exhaling. “We can have a nice long frustrated cry later, when we’re NOT trying to escape the JACQUELINE DIES timeline.”

Another deep breath. Her hands pressed together, in front of her face. Her nose scrunched, forehead wrinkling as she thought of her next steps.

“I need to break into Rosehaven,” she mused, tapping her lips. “Which means, off to the east I go! I’ve got a wicked old witch to see. But first!”

Turning around, Jacqueline rested her palms on the icy walls beside her exit. With a fierce look of concentration, hands aglow, the ice beneath her grew, covering the dent she made, a smooth patch appearing right over the jagged, pointy, inside out job.

“There we go,” she said, surveying her work, hands on her hips. “All patched up! Now onto the hard part,” she thought out loud, turning to face the mountains in the distance.

Two sharp peeks protruded in the night, a little structure on the tip of each one. The cliffs below them were dotted with hundreds of other huts and shacks and cottages, windows glowing in the dark, foliage twirling all over the settlement.

She took a step towards the skyline. Then another. On the third step, she disappeared, a bright flash of light blue light in the quickly darkening evening.

---

Something felt...different.

Jack tried to go back to his book and his plush chair, but found that for once, he was unable to shove all the feelings deep, deep down and go about his not-so-merry way. They were coming up; his insides were on fire. His cheeks wouldn’t stop getting wet.

Everything he had held back for years was coming up, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

He stepped out into the hall. Tentatively. Sort of surprised but not quite when nothing happened.

The barrier seemed to be down.

The guards were slumped against the walls, carefully placed in somewhat comfortable positions. Their weapons were abandoned; Jack waved his hand, a north wind billowing through the hall. It picked up the weapons, and, at his command, tossed them deep, deep, deep into his personal quarters.

A quick scan of the guards. They seemed okay; a little worse for the wear, but Jack didn’t see any blood or broken bones.

“Marcel?” he asked, crouching beside the guard closest to the door. He waved his hand in front of Marcel’s face.

The man groaned, unmoving.

Fine. Probably. Just like she had said.

Standing back up, Jack frowned, deep in thought.

He needed to move, to act, to do something.

But what?

He figured he had a few minutes, if he was lucky, before the guards get back up and were able to recast the barrier again. He stepped back; something rolled under his heel, crunching.

Marcel’s wand, snapped in two.

Well, so much for the barrier, then.

Alright. Good. More time to, to think. To decide. To figure something out.

He thinks back to the angry ghost. Something she had said. There was something there that had his fae senses screaming. A quick run through their conversation until—

I have a GIRLFRIEND, I don’t have the option to seduce a powerful castor right now!

“Oh no,” Jack said, paling.

He knew exactly what she was going to do.

But she’s dead! If this version of her were to try it...

“She’ll be trapped,” Jack realized.

With that in mind, his decision was easy as could be. He couldn’t save her then.

But he could save her now.

He straightened. Shook out his arms; his shoulders. His fingers crack. He lifts a foot, then slams it into the ground.

Around him, the prison shuddered. It began to shake. The fault lines she had left grew larger. Chips of ice rained down around him. He sliced a hand through the air. The walls on his right began to splinter and fracture, the light within growing dim as the place rumbled. He sliced his other hand through the air, the walls on his left mirroring their reflections.

He moved both arms up again, and sliced them both down through the air with a whoosh.

The walls didn’t just break.

They shattered.

The ceiling came down, the ice chunks bouncing off of the air above Jack, slamming into the ground around him.

In seconds, the entire icy exterior crumbled, the walls he had frozen so long ago coming down with it.

Outside, the sky is dark. Reddish purplish. The sun is going down in the distance. The air is fresh, if a little cold, and sharp. He inhales it, deeply. It’s wintry. Quite odd for the Eastern Province, but Autumn was known to have a bit of a chill, and Jack was certain that his presence here had effected the weather patterns a good amount, too.

Besides, what was a little more oddness? This whole day had been weird already, and it was only going to get weirder.

He stood still until the prison finished crumbling around him. The guards were unscathed; chunks headed their way magically redirected themselves, landing away from them. It’s the least, Jack thought, that he can do for them. After all, they had been very kind to him, and they hadn’t needed to be at all. Not for him. a criminal; a murderer. Of sisters. His own sister.

"Snap out of it, Jack!" he scolded himself, shaking his head and turning on the spot.

Onto business, he thought, straightening his jacket. Doing up a button and readjusting his cuff links. Glancing wearily at the pointy mountains in the distance.

There is only one castor he knows of that will happily help Jacqueline.

The same one who had helped him centuries ago.

Ice and dust drifting about, the Witch's Peaks in his sights, Jack made his way forward, determined.

But three steps in, a tiny gasp reached his ears.

He stopped dead in his tracks, tilting his head; listening.

Something…someone was there.

And though it was just a tiny little gasp, it rang familiar. So very familiar.

But that wouldn’t make sense, Jack thought. She wouldn’t be here. It couldn’t be…

“JACK!”

Him too?

Okay, now he was a little scared.

He turned on his heel, looking behind him. Two figures stood together in the distance. One was calling for him; a loud, recognizable voice. He could make out the shape of his palm up against his mouth, his other hand clasped tightly in the hand of the woman beside him. A whole head or so shorter than him, her other hand was in front of her mouth, gently hovering above a shocked ‘o’.

“JACK!” he called again.

“Dad?” Jack said, quietly. “Mom?”

The dust rippled between them. The air finally cleared, revealing Blaise and Winter, his parents, standing hand in hand a short distance away, staring at him with unreadable expressions, as rooted in place as he was.

---

“Look. Gwen. I already TOLD you, I don’t know WHY there’s such an uptick in chaos right now! NOR do I know WHY the air tastes like dark magic!”

“That is BULL and you know it, Cheri.”

“I would LOVE to take credit for this, but I have no idea what this is, girlie. And you know I’m telling the truth! Your goody-goody magic can sense it.”

“Okay, yes, but you’ve messed with it before! and you LOVE lying it's one of your FAVOURITE things!”

“It really is, but listen. Gwen. I’m using your name. not your little nickname. Obviously, I’m being legit right now. Look, don’t get your tutu in a twist, alright? I’ll look into it and if it’s bad bad, I’ll take care of it!”

The door to a small room opened, a witch swathed in black and red waltzing in, huge fuck-off combat boots clunking on the hardwood floor. With a roll of her eyes, she tossed her hat onto the mantle and stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed the woman perched on her desk.

“Your Grand Darkness,” the woman purred, saccharine, miming a curtsy while staying seated.

Cheri recognized her instantly. She smirked. “Ou. This is gonna be good.”

She turned on her heel, Gwen smacking right into her chest.

“CHERI!”

“Sorry Glenda, I’m a bit busy right now,” she said, shoving the tulle covered witch out the door. “We’ll chat later, a-buh-bye,” she finished with a wave, the door slamming shut behind her.

“CHERI!” Gwen shouted from the other side as Cheri cackled, sliding her broomstick through the door handle. She turned around, a feral grin on her face as she surveyed the woman perched on her desk, ignoring the jiggling of the handle and frustrated yells from the other side of the door.

“So you're my little trouble maker today, aren’t ya?” she asked, sauntering up to the desk and surveying the sprite, chin resting on her knuckles.

“Guilty as charged,” the sprite said, hopping down off the desk. Oh, she was tiny. “Look, your darkness, I don’t have much time. And I’m in a very happy, committed relationship with a literal goddess, so seducing you for help is like, out of the question.”

“Oh shit, a goddess? Which one?”

“Pleasure,” the sprite replied, lickity-split. “Greek.”

“Ha-HA, nice one! Up top,” Cheri replied, holding up a hand.

The sprite flushed, but, grinning, high-fived her back.

“Thanks for not leaving me hanging there, girl,” Cheri said, walking around the sprite and looking her up and down. “That would've been awkward. Would’ve had to cover by turning you into a toad or something,” she added, throwing herself into her seat, her feet landing on the desk. “Now I also don’t have much time. The chaos in the air today is ripe for the picking and I have yet to do that, thanks to politics, yuck. So, cut to the chase.”

“I need to break into Rosehaven,” she said.

“Deja vu!”

“Yeah, I know, don’t remind me. Short and sweet or long and complex?”

“Short and sweet baby.”

“Great! I’m from another timeline, and I’m trapped here until I can find the time crystals that power my way home,” she said, shaking a small, golden object in her hand. “Rosehaven is the last place I could think of them being, and I need to get in there and get them back because let me tell you, your Darkness, if I have to stay in this timeline for one second longer? I am going to burst into flames and just EXPLODE.”

Cheri laughed. “You're cute,” she said, recrossing her feet. “I can get you there. But what do you have to offer in exchange?”

“Even more chaos than is presently brewing,” the sprite said with a clever smirk. “In three hours I’ve managed to completely throw off every single Frost, leading to the chaos you’re sensing right now. If I’ve played my cards right, and if I manage to pull this last bit off, the chaos will straight up triple.” She frowned. “That is, if I remember magical chaos theory correctly. I didn’t pay much attention in world magics class,” she admitted with a silly little grin, scratching the back of her head. “And, it’ll piss off a lot of magibeans.”

“Glenda too?”

“Oh, her lightness especially.”

Cheri cackled. “Count me IN,” she said, hopping up and rummaging around the shelves packed FULL of ingredients and artifacts. “One plane shift coming right up.”

“Thank the fucking goddess,” the sprite said, relieved.

“Fair warning, though,” Cheri said over her shoulder, lobbing all sorts of shit into her cauldron. “You're already there, technically. There's a good chance you may get stuck. Rosehaven will let you in, but getting out? Hmm.”

“I’m hoping the time nonsense helps with that,” the sprite replied nonchalantly. “And honestly? Given the choice, I’d rather be stuck THERE than HERE in this timeline. I’ll take my chances, your darkness.”

Cheri laughed. “A sprite after my own heart.”

---

Time passed.

Maybe minutes, maybe seconds; maybe hours.

The parents stared at their son. The son stared at his parents. The dust cleared, exposing them all to one another. Mother and father looking particularly icy and ashen; son looking just as icy, if not more, than mother.

It’s Jack who speaks first, unsurprisingly.

“I know what this looks like, but it’s really not,” he found himself saying, trying very hard to keep the desperation out of his voice. “We can play chase later, you can bring me in again or whatever, I literally do not care, because there is something WAY more important that I need to be doing in a general that-away direction,” he said, pointing towards the rocky crags in the distance that hid Roseterra. “I don’t want to do this the hard way, but I will if I have to!”

“ARE YOU OKAY?!” Blaise shouts across the way.

“I—wait. WHAT?”

The tension, the readiness for battle, the urge to run away, all of it leaves at once. Jack stood, dumbfounded, unsure what to do with himself.

Blaise and Winter shared a look and, with a slight nod, gently walked towards him hand in hand.

Run says his brain.

Don’t, says his heart.

He stays.

Soon enough, they’re face to face. My god they’re old, Jack thinks.

Blaise and Winter think the same thing as they come face to face with their son.

Jack blinks.

They blink back.

Winter opens her mouth to speak; the words die before they can even come out. Unable to say much of anything at that precise moment, she squeezed Blaise’s hand. He nodded.

“Are you okay Jack?” he asked again.

“I—uh.”

Jack looked around, the remnants of the icy walls crystallized around them. The guards have yet to stir; his furniture and possessions are littered about as the wind blows, papers fluttering. The Solitary has been obliterated.

“Mostly.”

“Oh, thank heavens,” Winter finally says. Her eyes are shiny.

“I—okay. WHAT is HAPPENING.”

“We were worried about what she might have done.”

“She—Jacqueline? You guys saw her too?!”

They both nodded.

“Thank the LADY. Look, we don’t have time right now to unpack all of this. We need to go,” Jack says, starting forward.

“Jack, wait.”

“Go where?!”

“To Roseterra!”

Now it’s their turn to be dumbfounded.

Annoyed and short on time, Jack let out an exasperated sigh.

“I know you won’t believe me and that’s fine. But that was her! It was Jacqueline! And she’s about to do something so incredibly stupid and if I don’t go after her right now, immediately, she’s gone! And I can’t…I can’t let that happen again,” he says, voice cracking. “I couldn’t save her then, but maybe I can now!” Jack admits. “I…I didn’t want…I never…I didn’t mean to…”

And he feels tears running down his cheeks. How embarrassing, he thought to himself, sniffing and trying to dry the corners of his eyes.

Suddenly, he’s warm. Very, very warm.

“I know,” Blaise says, quietly, in his ear. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I loved her,” Jack finds himself saying into his dad’s chest, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. A usually effortless task that’s really not working for him today. “I never wanted to hurt her and when I did, I—”

“Shh, it’s okay, darling,” Winter says. Jack can feel her arms around him now too. “It’s alright. What’s done is done,” she says, soothingly. “We can’t undo it.”

“But we can help you now,” Blaise said, letting up from the hug. “Whatever you need. We'll help. We're here with you.”

“Winter’s right,” Jack said, lifting his head off of Blaise. “We can’t bring her back. I wish I could! I’d give anything to make it right. But there isn’t anything I can do. In fact, I think it’s safe to say I’ve done enough,” Jack said.

Blaise chuckled, his hairline glowing.

“But what I can do is this. Because somewhere out there is another Jack, who has his Jacqueline; another Winter and Blaise who have her, too! And I don’t want them to lose her. I don’t want them to go through everything we’ve gone through,” Jack said, gesturing around him.

“What is she planning on doing?” Blaise asked, bewildered.

“The thing she travelled with, it has pieces. She was looking for them, and if she visited all of us and we didn’t have them, then there’s only one place left to look.”

Blaise paled. “She’s going to make the jump?”

“One HUNDRED percent. She means business, I mean, look what she did to the guards! To MARCEL!”

“She did that?” Winter asked, eyes widening.

“Uh, yeah,” Jack said, the duh left unspoken but in the air.

“Is it weird that I’m proud?” Winter asked.

“No,” Blaise said. “I am too.”

“It’s impressive,” Jack agreed. “RIGHT! WE HAVE TO GO,” he shouted, rushing forward. "We've wasted enough time as is, best to try and head her off at Roseterra! Cheri's probably already gotten her everything she needs—"

“Jack, wait! Hold on a second—how does he still have this much energy,” Blaise asked Winter, exasperated.

She laughed. “I’ll grab him,” she said, lifting a finger.

A pile of snow shot up in front of Jack. He slammed directly into it. It pushed him back gently, spinning him around to face his parents.

“What,” he snapped.

“Just don’t move for a second,” Blaise said, lifting his palms. They glowed; between them, his staff appeared. He placed it on the ground, uttered a few words, and boom! A circle appeared around Jack.

He glanced down at it, watching the runes and sigils appear in the circle. There were a lot. He grimaced.

With one last incantation, Blaise lifted his staff and slammed it into the ground. The small symbols and shapes cracked, disappearing until the circle was empty. It faded into the ground, Jack feeling lighter than he had in centuries.

“What was all THAT?!” he asked, equal parts offended on his own behalf, and impressed that it took that many enchantments to keep him imprisoned.

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaise said, a couple of sparks popping off of his ashen head. His roots seemed to be glowing now too. “Let’s go save your sister, yeah?”

And with that, the trio rushed off.

---

They made it, but not soon enough.

They slid to a stop, dust flying as Jacqueline turned to level them all with the same icy glare. Below her, the ground was shifting, shimmering and glittering. In her left hand, she held a glass object. In her right, a piece of chalk.

“Jacqueline, don’t!” Jack said, stepping forward.

She let out one single, sharp HA. “I do what I want, Jack,” she said, coldly. Looking them all dead in the eye one at a time, she dropped the glass ball onto the ground, right into the shimmering circle.

It shattered, and a pink cloud poofed up. The writing on the monument blurred, a small portal opening up, wider and wider until it was as tall as she was. A bright light surrounded her. Jack held up an arm, shielding himself from the light while still trying to keep a visual on Jacqueline. Behind him, Blaise grabbed Winter. She hid her eyes in his chest, while he, similarly to Jack, shielded his own.

They stood, watching helplessly, as the silhouette of Jacqueline stepped into the portal, disappearing.

It snapped shut, the glow diminishing.

All three of them moved forward, only to be stopped by some sort of unseen forcefield.

“Oh dear,” Winter said, as she watched the two men try and break through it. She tilted her head, the north winds blowing. “I’m afraid that won’t work, dears,” she said.

“What do you MEAN it won’t work? We gotta do SOMETHING!”

“We’re going to lose her AGAIN, Winter!”

“Rosehaven has placed the barrier there. It doesn’t want us to interfere. It’s up to her now.”

“And what, we’re just supposed to stand here and wait?!” Jack asked.

“Precisely,” Winter said, the winds blowing happily behind her.

“And what do we do in the meantime? Talk?!” Blaise asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Winter said, chipper.

Both men looked at each other, distraught.

---

The light was very pink. Blinding, nearly. It smelt like flowers. It felt…amazing. Like she was safe; like everything would be okay. She was home.

Her anger, frustration, annoyance, and fear all disappeared as she came to a very sudden stop.

She opened her eyes.

It was still very pink.

She seemed to be in some kind of large, stone gazebo. Vines twirled up it, a leafy canopy hanging down around her. Flowers bloomed. A fountain trickled somewhere nearby. In front of her stood a podium.

“Welcome to Rosehaven,” said an ethereal voice. “Name, please?”

“Jacqueline Winter Frost,” she said. “Here to see one Jacqueline Winter Frost, if you please.”

The hooded figure looked up, perplexed. Their head tilted under the hood; the material gently creasing. “How curious,” they said, gliding over to Jacqueline. “You are here again, and yet, you are already here.”

Jacqueline looked right into the darkness within the figure's hood. She pulled the time piece out of her pocket.

They recoiled. “Well now, that explains it,” they said. There was a swirl of petals and their hood fell back, revealing a pale face, messy dark hair in a pixie cut of all things, and very familiar brown eyes. They danced with all sorts of warm hues. Red. Orange. Yellow. Like fallen leaves. “May I?” they asked gesturing to the time piece.

Jacqueline nodded. She placed it flat in her palm and held it out for the Hollow.

“Time magic. Well, the good news is you’re safe from being stuck,” they said with a knowing smile. “Here, hold onto that.”

“And the bad news?”

“Hmm?”

“You said the good news. Usually that means there’s bad news to follow?”

“Yes. Well, as the Hollow charged with guarding the entrance, I can’t just let you in, of course.”

Jacqueline sighed. “Oh, gosh. Is it riddles? I am very bad at riddles. I hope it isn’t riddles. I’d say combat but we’d be locked in combat forever, wouldn’t we? Cant fight to the death in the afterlife, can we?”

The Hollow laughed. “Nothing so severe and no riddles for you, snowflake. I have a very simple question you must answer for me.”

“Oh. Uh. Okay.”

“How’s Autumn?”

Jacqueline blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Autumn? Your Aunt? How is she.”

“I don’t know. This isn’t my timeline. I have no idea how any of my aunts are—”

“I only need to know about Autumn. Your Autumn.”

“My Autumn?”

The Hollow nodded. “I committed a crime, you see. I brought the light life that gave your aunt breath over to Harvest. That is not the duty I was charged with by the goddess. I was supposed to take life, not give it. So, I was punished with door duty.”

“Door duty? For such a steep crime?” Jacqueline asked.

“It was fated,” the Hollow said with a wink. “I am Hollow Eve. Autumn is as much my daughter as she is Harvest’s. We like to know how she’s getting on, in every timeline.”

“This happens a lot then?”

“Nope! Not at all! This is the first time a Frost from another timeline has found their way in here. Carpe diem,” she said with a knowing smile. “How is she back at home?”

Jacqueline blinked. “Oh! Well. She’s doing quite alright,” Jacqueline said, recalling when they last talked. “She recently got into Bones. It’s a show, not the actual bones. That only happens around Halloween. Anyway, she binged that and loved it! She’s still trying to see if she can yield anything from the scar, but no luck yet. She thinks she’s getting close, but she thinks that every year,” Jacqueline said fondly.

“Bones. I shall look into that show I think. Come then, Jacqueline. I will take you to see Jacqueline. We can walk and talk,” they said, gliding over to the exit. “I will grant you safe passage throughout Rosehaven, and back again.”

“Huh,” Jacqueline said. “This was easier than I thought.”

“She was expecting you.”

“That rambunctious little bugger, I knew it. It’s just what I would do.”

Eve laughed. “Fated,” she said, once again. “Come along then, snowflake. Right this way. It’s tea time. Impeccable timing.”

“Fated, even?” Jacqueline teased back.

Eve laughed. “Indeed! Now you're getting it. Let’s get a move on. And tell me more about my child, if you please.”

“Sure,” Jacqueline said, more than happy to talk about her aunt, though it was harder than she had expected.

Not that she didn’t know much about Autumn; they talked regularly, as she did with all three aunts. No, it was just…Rosehaven was beautiful. And as they walked, Jacqueline was enthralled with it, trying to take it all in while sharing all her favourite Aunt Autumn stories. Her multi-tasking skills were not to be found today.

The hills rolled out, impossibly far; the pink sky was bright. Flowers were all over the place, blowing in a breeze that smelt like all of her favourite things: freshly baked cake. Snow. Dite. The beach. Trees towered high, the oddest creatures popping in and out of them, flitting through the sky, over branches, and winding between their feet. Fun little houses dotted the landscape, dwellings matching each magibean that sat, lounging; basking. Playing instruments, working with magic both alone and with their neighbours, explosions of sparkles happening both near and far as magic sprouted up all around them. The pathways sprawled out in the distance, leading to lush forests, jungles; desert, even! And far off in the distance, mountains; a tall, lonely castle, a sharp contrast off in the horizon to the warm and cozy dwellings that surrounded them.

Jacqueline had actually stopped to frown at it for but a moment, as Eve told her not to dwell for too long and come along, if you’d please. And tell me more about Halloween, if you’d be so kind.

And so, the pair continued on through Rosehaven; Jacqueline trying fruitlessly to take in as much detail as possible while telling Eve all about her daughter. Aunt Autumn. They delighted in all the stories Jacqueline shared, as they wound through the lush expanse, Eve practically sparkling the more she heard of Autumn.

Finally, the path widened, the trees growing taller and wider, covered in vines, flowers all over the place. Water trickled in the distance; they walked under a natural stone archway, coming into a beautiful garden. Butterflies fluttered about, the sweetest of scents tickling her nose. The woods and stones and vines and flowers wound together tightly, forming all natural furnishings. At the centre of it all, a stone. A stone that was both devoid of colour and all the colours at once; sparkling faintly, magic shimmering around it.

Just behind this stone was a table. Made of wood and bark, and surrounded by stumps shaped like chairs, a beautiful spread of treats and sweets sat. A teapot glinted in the light, steam coming out of the spout. Four cups sat in saucers, two filled, two more waiting. At the top of this round table sat a woman.

She looked old; ancient, even. Her hair was long, the green still making itself known through the grey. Leaves sat at the top of her braids, turning into flowers, then back to leaves again. Colourful leaves, trailing into frost at the very bottom. Her multiple braids clinked together as she nodded along, green eyes soft, paying rapt attention to her small companion, a soft smile on her dark face.

Her companion stood on her stump chair, talking animatedly and bouncing in place as she used her whole entire body to describe something. Her pigtails bounce as she grinned, blue eyes sparkling, flyaway hairs decorated with snowy beads, a little flower tying each braid off at the end.

Eve cleared her throat.

Both figures stopped talking, turning to look at the pair. The little sprite grinned, bouncing in place once again. The old woman smiled, head tilted.

“Hello, Eve,” she said, her voice soft and loud, sounding like rushing water but also like a soft breeze. It hit Jacqueline, then, exactly who she’d come face to face with. The little gasp slipped out, much to her dismay. The tiny sprite giggled about it. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Mother Gaia. Mistress Frost. You have a visitor,” they said, bowing deeply, and gesturing towards Jacqueline. Flushing, Jacqueline curtseyed deeply. “One Mistress Frost,” Eve said.

“Mother Gaia, it’s an honour,” Jacqueline said, reverent, not sure how long she should bow for.

The woman chuckled. “There’s no need for formalities, dear. Up you go. There we go. Now, I don’t think I have to introduce my companion to you, do I?”

The child giggled. So did the young woman.

“No,” she said.

“We’re good! We know each other!” the child said, bouncing in place. She turned to her older self, meeting the woman’s fierce gaze with one of her own.

“Do you have them?” Jacqueline asked.

With a small smile, she opened her little fist. In it, three pieces of glowing chrono-quartz sat, charged and ready to go.

“Oh thank the goddess,” Jacqueline said, relieved.

“Did you bring me what I wanted?”

“I think the heck I did,” Jacqueline replied, grinning. “May I sit?”

“Please do,” Mother Gaia said, gesturing to the stumps. “Eve?”

“I’ll float, thank you.”

“Have some tea, darling,” Mother Gaia said. Not waiting for an answer, she waved her hand. The pot poured out a cup, cream pouring in along with some honey. The saucer and cup floated, then, landing right in front of Eve’s outstretched hands.

“Thank you, Mother Gaia.”

“Of course. Now then. What have you been up to, my dear?”

“All sorts of nonsense,” Jacqueline said with a sigh, slumping in her seat. Elbow on the table, she held her head, taking a moment to rest. “Chased all three of them down to find those,” she said, pointing lazily at her child self’s hands.

“Are they coming?” the child asked, hope glinting in her big blue eyes.

“I did you one even better, Jacqueline,” she replied, selecting a brownie off the snack tray. “They’re here.

“HERE?!”

“Like, outside, but yes, they are. All three of them.”

“ALL of them?”

“Even Jack.”

The little girl brightened at that, bouncing in her seat again. “Yay! Thank you,” she said, earnestly.

“Of course. Riled them up real good, too,” she added, taking a bite out of her brownie.

“Very much so,” said Gaia. “I can feel the chaos from here.”

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” both Jacquelines said, one around a mouthful of brownie. They stopped and looked at each other, blinking, and immediately laughing.

Gaia smiled. “I hope the little one didn’t cause you too much trouble,” Gaia said, booping little Jacquie’s nose fondly. The child let out a teehee.

“She absolutely did,” Jacqueline said, her child self giggling fully now and plopping down in her seat. “You sent me on a goose chase and a HALF girl! Dang! And this on top of the day I have had,” she said, grabbing a tiny cupcake off the platter and peeling off the wrapper. “I was supposed to help a friend find a thing, and then these time shenanigans happened and then I found myself looking at my own GRAVE! I’ve had to yell at my parents and visit my brother in PRISON for KILLING me,” she said, eating the cupcake whole. “I mean, I figured I’d probably visit him in prison more than once in our lifetimes, BUT FOR MURDER? OF MY ME? Would much rather do that visit ALIVE, thank you kindly. Uh, no offence,” she said, embarrassed, glancing around the table as she swallowed the cupcake.

“None at all,” Gaia said.

“I’ve no concept of life,” Eve said. “I simply exist.”

“I’ve been like this for FOREVER! It’s allllll good, Jacqueline,” said the kid, patting her hand.

“I just. I have had a very long day and really want to go home and get a hug from my girlfriend and—”

“WE HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?! WHO? WHAT’S SHE LIKE? IS SHE PRETTY? STRONG? CAN SHE THROW ME? CAN SHE THROW YOU?! CAN SHE THROW US BOTH?”

“Yes to all of that,” Jacqueline said.

“I’m so cool,” kid Jacqueline said, grinning at Gaia.

“The coolest, I'd say,” Gaia said, grinning back. “Now then. Finish up your tea. Have some as well, Jacqueline; you’ll need this particular blend for the journey ahead.”

“Oh?”

“Special properties. They’ll make the planar shift less…cumbersome on the way out.”

“Cumbersome?”

“It was nice coming in,” Eve said. “But it’s quite the opposite going out. This should help. And since you told me what I needed to know, you have my blessing to take as long as you need. I’ll make sure the portal closes when you’re ready,” Eve added, directing the last bit at tiny Jacqueline.

“Got it,” she said, with a determined nod. “Are you coming too, Gram?”

“No child. I’m much too old to be making these planar shifts. I’ll be right here waiting for you to get back and tell me all about it,” she said, eyes crinkling at the corners when she smiled.

Tiny Jacqueline smiled, hopping off her seat and right into Gaia’s arms in a hug.

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing the matriarch.

“Of course,” she said, squeezing back.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Eve said. “Both of you.”

And so, finishing their tea, the two of them got up. Thanking Gaia once again, Jacqueline waited beside Eve, hand outstretched to her child self. “Shall we?”

“Yes please,” Jacqueline said with a grin, taking her hand.

“Then let’s go,” she replied.

Hand in hand, the two sprites started forward, Eve gliding in front of them, leading them back to the lobby, as they called it. Once they had gotten under the gazebo, the vines snapped, cascading down from the roof and blocking the entrances. With creaks and groans, the vines grew larger and larger, entangling amongst themselves to keep from easily being breached.

“Not to worry; this happens with break-ins. I’ll take care of things here. The two of you,” she said, placing a hand over the spot Jacqueline had appeared in upon her arrival, “Do what you need to do, okay?”

“Sure,” Jacqueline said. Beside her, kid Jacqueline scooted closer, grabbing her arm with both hands and tugging.

“Psst,” she said. “Down here.”

Jacqueline sunk down, worry creasing her face. “Yes?”

“What if…what if they’re not there no more? What if we go out there and they’re gone? I…” she sniffled, her lips wobbling.

“Oh, hey now, kiddo. It’s okay,” Jacqueline said, picking herself up and seating her on her leg. “They will be there; I promise. And if they’re not,” she looked left, looked right, and came right up to her ear. “I’ll hunt them down for you myself. Just for you. Okay?”

Eyes wide and teary, the child nodded. “Okay,” she said. Reaching over, she grabbed Jacqueline’s other arm, pulling her hand up to her face. In her palm, she dropped the chrono-quartz. “I’m ready,” she said, sliding off of Jacqueline’s knee and grabbing her hand.

Behind them, there was a sort of fwoom. A bright light filled the lobby, the portal home opening up for them. Glancing back down at her younger self, Jacqueline stepped forward.

“Ready? For sure?”

“Yeah!”

“Then let’s go.”

And, keeping her younger self behind her, Jacqueline stepped back through the portal.

---

Tuckered out, the three sprites sat, backs against the barrier that would not drop. It had been nearly an hour; they had talked. They had waited. They had come to the realization that they hadn't had to run all day. They could've poofed.

Suddenly, a low thrum.

They shot up, Jack throwing himself in front of his parents and watching as the portal that had closed up opened once again. A silhouette appeared; tall. A mess of hair. She stepped forward. Behind her, her arm still in the portal, she gave something a gentle tug.

A second silhouette popped out. Shorter; smaller. Hair braided.

All three gasped.

The light cleared. Looking a lot less angry now was the older Jacqueline they had come across today, hand in hand with the little girl they thought they had lost, looking as perky and happy as she always had, if a bit translucent and shimmery.

They stared at her. Jack wide-eyed. Winter crying behind her hands. Blaise tearing up.

It was Jack who, yet again, broke the silence.

“Jacqueline?”

The little girl ran, then, closing the distance very fast. She hopped up, slamming right into her brother’s chest with enough force to knock him down. He barely had time to recover before her arms were around his chest, squeezing the life out of him with a hug.

“I missed you,” she said, squishing him very tightly. Jack blinked for a moment, before squishing her back just as tight, if not more.

“I am so, so sorry Jacqueline, I never meant to hurt you! To, to kill you! It was an accident. I love you. I’d never hurt you, not. Not knowingly. Not like this.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, still holding on tight. “I forgive you. It was an accident,” she said, finally letting Jack go. “But what I DON’T forgive you for is NOT coming to SEE ME!”

Still sitting on Jack’s legs, she huffed, crossing her tiny arms. “I waited! I waited the whole time to see you guys! Every single converse-convert-converge—”

“Convergence,” Jack and not dead Jacqueline both said at the same time.

“Yeah! That! I waited for you and mom and dad, but you never came,” she said, turning to look up at her parents. “None of you came. Why’d you leave me all alone?”

When Jack and Blaise didn’t respond, Winter spoke up.

"We messed up," she said, sinking down to the floor, looking at her little baby girl. She reached out, gently caressing her baby’s face. Rubbing away the tears with the pad of her thumb. “We made a very big mistake. We tried to save you, and when we couldn’t…”

“We turned away from each other,” Blaise admitted, sinking down now too.

“We ran away,” Jack added, frowning at the floor. “I…I don’t know about mom and dad, but it seemed easier to run than to face up to what had happened. To deal with it. And, and thinking of going to see you…what would I have even said?”

“Well I think you’re doing okay right now,” Jacqueline said, softening a little.

Jack grinned. “Thanks, Jacqueline.”

“Anytime, boss,” she said, saluting very silly like. Jack chuckled.

“I think we all hurt you a little bit, didn’t we?” Winter asked. “Not coming to see you. Doing what we thought best.”

“What we thought you’d want,” Blaise added.

“All I wanted was to see you guys. I didn’t want you to run away from each other. I just wanted to see you all together and maybe sometimes still be there too,” she admitted, poking her lil’ fingers together. “I’m DEAD. You can’t change that. Not by running away or playing chase or anything silly like that.”

“I know,” Winter said, swooping Jacqueline up off of Jack’s legs. "We know." Pulling her in close, Winter gave her child a big squeeze. “I’m sorry, dear.”

“It’s okay, mommy,” she said, hugging Winter tightly. She looked up at Blaise over her shoulder. With a smile, she stuck her little arms up.

Blaise grabbed her so fast, crushing her against him. “I’m sorry, too,” he said, gruffly. He let out a sob. “I thought I knew what you wanted, but it wasn’t about what I thought. I was wrong. We were wrong. I’m sorry, Jacqueline, so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay daddy,” she croaked, enjoying the warmth that came with the territory. “I’m just glad you were all still here when I got here. I was afraid you’d all have left. That maybe you didn’t…you didn’t want to see me.”

“What?”

“Jacqueline Winter Frost!”

“We’d never!”

“Well you all did a very bad no good awful job showing that,” she said with a pout, wiggling out of Blaise’s arms and plopping on the ground, crossing her little arms. “Do better.”

Up by the grave marker, Jacqueline chuckled. Get their asses, Jacquie, she thought, pulling out the empty time piece. It had a slight glow to it. She pulled out the chrono-quartz. They also had a slight glow. Almost there, she thought, placing them into the face.

“Don’t you worry your little head off,” Jack said, grandly, poking the very top of said little head. “We’ll do better now. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Jack said.

“We all do,” Blaise agreed, Winter nodding enthusiastically beside him.

The tiny sprite’s eyes grew big, her lip wobbling before breaking out in a huge smile. “YAY!” she said, jumping around, trying to hug all three of her family members at once.

“How have you been?!” Winter asked suddenly, grabbing Jacqueline and squishing her tightly. “Are you okay?”

“I am now,” she replied, hugging back. “It’s very nice where I am! Very pink though. I stay with Gaia. She’s real nice and looks lots like Mother Nature and lets me call her Gram. She makes really good tea and always has sweets and...”

Jacqueline sighed, relieved as she watched her child self go on and on about Rosehaven and how everything had been for her on the other side. There was a click and a whir; she glanced down. The watch was ready. The cracks had sealed, the time chunk once again in one piece. Clicking the knob at the top, she watched as the arrows whirred, and the purple turned blue.

“Got him,” she said to herself, relieved, pressing down on the face of the timepiece.

In front of her, a deep purple portal opened. Shoulders sagging, she stepped forward, glad to leave when all of a sudden there was a tug on her skirt.

“Hmm?”

She looked down. Kid Jacqueline stood beside her with a soft smile, hands behind her back.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said, rushing forward and hugging her legs.

“Awwh,” Jacqueline couldn’t help but say. She bent down, squishing her dead self tightly. “You’re welcome. Give them hell, okay? And one more thing.”

The child blinked, letting herself be picked up by herself. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry you died,” she said, face falling.

The child in her arms giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “It’s okay. I can’t change that. And you can’t, either. Nothing can bring me back completely. But you did me a big help,” she said.

“A big help?” Jacqueline asked, the corner of her lips twitching.

“Yeah! You helped me help them and now we can make a difference. Look! Lookit!”

Tightening her grip on her kid self, Jacqueline looked down at her parents and brother. They were chatting, standing up now; waiting patiently for Jacqueline to head back their way. Blaise and Winter were deep in conversation. Jack said something; the pair laughed, Blaise’s hair actually smouldering. Jack glanced up their way, head tilted.

“GIVE ME TWO MORE SECONDS!” the tiny child yelled, turning back to her adult self. “This is all I ever wanted,” she said, throwing her little arms around Jacqueline’s neck.

“I know,�� Jacqueline said, squishing her tight. “Me too. I’m glad I could help.”

“Me too!” she said, pulling out of the hug.

“And if they EVER act out of sorts again, let me know. I’ll knock some sense into them.”

The child laughed. “Okay!”

“Alright,” Jacqueline said, and, with one last squeeze, released little Jacquie. “Off you go,” she said, watching as little Jacqueline ran down the incline, waving at her.

“BYE JACQUELINE! TRAVEL SAFE! I HOPE YOU WIN!”

“Me too,” Jacqueline said, waving back and stepping foot into the portal. The watch was ready; and so was she.

She glanced behind her once more. Jacqueline hopped up into the air, throwing herself at her parents. Blaise was teary eyed; she latched onto his neck like a little koala, Blaise, grabbing his wife and son and squishing them, too. There was cracking; a pop. Blaise’s hair lit up.

With one last deep breath, Jacqueline hopped into the portal, watching as it slowly closed on the four Frosts hugging one another very tightly, basking in Blaise's firelight before she was yanked into the time stream, the watch glowing and pushing her through to the proper timeline.

---

The portal shut; the angry ghost was gone, leaving them with the ghost they had missed the most. Jack watched it shut, wiggling his way out of the hug.

Or at least, trying to.

“So, uh. Not to ruin the moment or anything,” Jack said, Blaise not letting go. “But um. What now? Where should I go?”

“House arrest seems our only recourse,” Blaise said, sternly. “Your Mother and I can keep a close eye on you there. What do you think?”

Jack blinked, taken aback. He smiled; small, soft. "I think I'd like that."

#this is 15k lmao. sorry not sorry ;)#oh and translator's note: LCBCS stands for liquor control board crystal springs #it is 100% a play on the ontarian LCBO >:)#dani writes #the one where jacqueline dies #jacqueline dies au #jacqueline dies au part 2 #frowny shots #tho tbh this thing is so comfort idk if i CAN call it a frowny shot #it's also long enough that tumblr is having a time with it lmao. so my edit was FAST #ANYWAY. SORRY. FR. ABOUT THE LENGTH! I SHOULD;VE SPLIT IT BUT RLY WANTED IT OUT ALL AT ONCE #crystal springs #time splinter bits #ocs #tsc #tsc3

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