Even being close to the winter brat was enough to set my instincts warring against one another, one side yelling ‘OMEGA! OMEGA!’ and other side rationalizing how the so-called ‘Omega’ had a barren womb, a false womb, that he was a falb. And did I not remember how wonderfully the winter brat messed up Easter in ‘68? Yeah. Way out of the ballpark of Omega behavior. If I didn’t know better, that would be Alpha dynamic, not Omega.
Luckily, it wasn’t me that was supposed to drag the troublemaker to North’s. That was the job of the yeti, the big hulking white furred things that picked up the shouting kid and took him into the portal, away from my screeching instincts while I raced along earthen flooring, my feet signalling my temporary return to the earth.
The kid was a menace originally, but how in the world was he meant to help us protect the children of the world? He was selfish, annoying, all the things that wouldn’t be good on a spirit but are even worse on an omega. Yeah that beared repeating. Luckily I got to North’s workshop just as Jack was getting out of the sack. He looked wonder-struck, scared, intrigued and intimidated all at once. I ignored the traitorous pure-Alpha-instinct thought of what would he look like if I showed him my nest .
“Wow, you gotta be kidding me.”
My fur bristled at his immediate sarcasm. He was roughly picked up by the yeti and even then his sarcasm wouldn’t stop.
“Oh, yeah. I love being shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal.”
The bigger part of the conversation I left myself on the sideline, online jumping in when a question came up. I came back to pay attention a bit later in the conversation. And there was immediately something to talk about.
“Look, this is all very flattering, but ah… you don’t want me. You’re all hard work and deadlines, and I’m snowballs and fun times. I’m not a Guardian.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said!”
And then Tooth (a more omega-inclined beta, softer more motherly, but still a beta) cut in, trying to bring him to our side, trying to get an omega that can’t even make sure kids don’t die in a goddamn blizzard join in a war against evil, where the main bad guy gains more power from fear, fear of anything, the unknown, the known, the boogeyman.
I provide a bit of unheard snark at the end of her speech about the lights, and then there’s the talk about how infrequently the Man in the Moon converses with anyone at all. And then his real snark starts up.
“After 300 years this is his answer? To spend eternity like you guys cooped up in some, some hideout thinking of, of new ways to bribe kids? No no, that's not for me. No offense.” He spoke with bravado, his arms open and waving as if he were an alpha and not a barren omega.
“How is that not offensive?!” I turn to the rest of them.
“You know what I think? I think we just dodged a bullet. I mean, what's this falb know about bringing joy to children anyway?” I expected Jack to be offended, to blow up, create a blizzard, hopefully near the building so that the rest of the Guardians can finally believe that Jack Frost was a bad idea to have on the team. But he didn’t. Even Tooth and the others recognized the world, sparing me a glare before focusing their attentions on Jack, who scrunched up his nose at the word, looking all confused before sniping back.
“Uhh, you ever hear of a snow day? I know it's no hard-boiled egg, but kids like what I do.”
“But none of ‘em believe in you. Do they? You see, you’re invisible, mate. It’s like you don’t even exist.”
This was the stinger. This was what could finally crack through the dull omega and his rancid brain.
Invisibility happened to everyone at some point.