A small dose of medicine and glass of water greet you as you open your eyes. The tray has been cleared of your dishes since you dozed off.
Still half-asleep, you prop yourself up just enough to take the medicine, laying back down immediately afterwards. Your nose isn’t bothering you as much, but you’re still feeling pretty weak and sickly.
You don’t even question how he managed to find the medicine.
You look over to the fireplace to see nothing but the fire dancing happily about. You scan around the room, trying to place where he may have gone off to so you can thank him for taking care of you.
Ah, there he is.
He’s standing in front of the window, leaning slightly onto the small sill and staring out into the city, not noticing that you have woken up.
No, not the city, you notice. His chin is slightly elevated. He’s staring up into the midday sky.
“Why?” you hear him quietly ask it. “Why won’t you talk to me? Tell me what’s going on here? The purpose of all of this? I mean, I figured that this is all to help me answer my questions, but…” He stands up straighter and hits the sill with his fist. His voice, still quiet, begins to get strained, laden with sadness and frustration. “Why do you have to make me jump through all of these hoops just to find out why I’m here, why I am the way that I am? Why can’t you just tell me?”
You feel the pain in his voice, seeing it as he releases his fist and bows his head. Your human instincts make you want to get up and comfort him, to tell him you’ll do your best to help him and that everything will be all right.
But you hold back. You’re not sure that you can, nor that everything will be okay in the end. How can you possibly help a centuries-old spirit with supernatural abilities answer his questions if he hasn’t been able to answer them himself in the ages that he’s been alive?
What difference can you make?
No, you think. I won’t give up before even starting to try. I’m the first person who can see and speak to him. That has to count for something. It’s a connection that no one else has had with him before. We may not have known each other for too long, and heck, he still doesn’t know a LOT about me, but…
He leaves the window and makes his way over to your books, taking an interest the one that you’ve been reading lately. He grabs it and lays a few feet away from the fire, setting his bare foot on the raised knee of the opposite leg. He holds the book open above his face as he begins to read.
You begin to feel drowsy again, probably a result of the medicine.
…I will be there for him, no matter what happens.
You close your eyes.
I will help Jack Frost as much as I can, no matter what it takes.