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English
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Part 5 of Bye Bye Birdy
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From Ghibli to Star Wars
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Published:
2014-01-13
Completed:
2014-01-15
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4,027
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4/4
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Let the Games Begin

Summary:

Pitch doesn't like it when people mess with his things. It had been SUCH a wonderful day until the Guardians stuck their noses in. And if Pitch doesn't kill them all, Jack might.

Notes:

My first multi-chapter! Let's see if I can do a good Pissed Off Pitch shall we? It'll be fun! I have no idea what I'm doing.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Chapter Text

What was Pitch Black like?

It depended on who you asked.

Pitch would say he’s the scariest goddamn thing on the planet. He’s the Nightmare King, the Bogey Man, the thing waiting in the shadows to eat your soul in small bloody bites while you cowered under a blanket.

Jack would say Pitch is his favorite pillow after a long day of play, that he gave the best hugs, and would never let anything hurt Jack even if he may have deserved it.

The Guardians would agree with Pitch, but they were a little prejudiced and didn’t count.

The Nightmares couldn’t say anything, but Jack was sure they were on his side. When Pitch wasn’t threatening them with pulverization.

Was he a rabid wolf or a cuddly guard dog?

A monster or a father figure?

Really, it depended on who you asked.

And when.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jack scattered the birdseed over the snow, chirruping to the few sparrows flitting around. It was cold and food was hard to find, some free food would be welcomed by the tiny things. Crouched impossibly on the crook of his staff, Jack gave them the All Clear whistle so that they knew there were no cats or hawks in the area.

First a few, then a handful, then a whole group of common sparrows hopped about on the seed-covered snow.

Good Food!

Clear Sky!

Happy!

There were warbling notes for all sorts of things a bird might want to know, want others to know, or simply for the hell of it.

Still Alive!

That’s Mine!

Look!

Go Away!

Jack grinned at them, reaching into his hoody pocket to toss an extra handful at those on the furthest edges. He scolded a tiny bully with a sharp sound, but stayed on his perch and just watched otherwise. He might be able to talk to the birds, but he was still far too big and too featherless to act like one of them. Which Jack didn't mind too much, it wouldn't be good if the birds got so used to people around they stopped being careful. A careless bird was a dead bird.

Noting the absence of a few friends, Jack hoped they were just someplace else in the town. Lots of places to check out for food and nests... But things happened. He’d learned that very early on. Birds lived, birds died, and there was nothing you can do to stop it. They enjoyed their life when they could and didn’t complain when it went bad. There was a poem about that but Jack didn’t bother trying to remember it right now.. He'll ask Pitch about it later. He'd not only know who said it but what book it was in and what shelf the book was on and the very page. Know-it-all bastard.

Dusting his hands clean, Jack cheerfully throwing his own I’m Here! I’m Alive! to the chorus at his feet. Not a reminder as if they had forgotten him, just a few casual notes that meant exactly that. He was here. He was alive. They all were! Wasn't it great? Wasn't it exciting?

It was a beautiful day of sunshine and gleaming white snow and Jack needed to go take advantage of it -right now-, but just before he could take off on his own, there was a flurry of Danger! Danger! and the whole flock of cheerful sparrows took off into the air as one and vanished.

Not having been so caught up with his feathery friends that he immediately took to the air also, Jack looked around instead. No Hawk… no cat... Not even a human walking by. The alley was cold and quiet and nothing at all out of the ordinary. What had frightened them?

Wait… there.

What was that?

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Pitch was very pleased with himself. Like a snake he slithered from a dark corner to a dark closet to under a bed to the dark folds of a blanket thrown over a chair until he was back to his home, sweet dark home. Little shadow or big shadow, nothing was outside his grasp, not when he was filled to the brim with the fear of a Guardian. Filled with Power.

Ahhh, that had been simply joyous. It had been... fun. Jack was rubbing off on him, Pitch freely admitted this, but it didn’t make him feel any less bloated with glee.

He had all on his own without any fancy tricks managed to break into the North Pole itself. Stirred up trouble. Reminded the Red Man he was still alive and just waiting for the right moment to attack. To consume.

Someone had to keep the Guardians on their toes after all and Pitch was more than happy to do so.

Limbs reformed, joints where they were supposed to be and teeth gleaming in a wide smirk, Pitch strolled out of a shadow and over to the fireplace of his favorite chamber. Just a handful of flickering light to make the edges of the room less clear, the illusion of things moving just out of sight. He had to laugh, because what had he done but make the Guardians work seem more clear with his antics? Like the fire, a bit of shadow to make their light so much brighter. A bit of fear to polish their hopes and dreams. What were they without him to provide a contrast to?

Yes, Pitch was very pleased with himself indeed.

Picking up a book from the mantel, Pitch smiled fondly at the French novel. Jack had not only learned English, but had moved on to even more languages once Pitch had gotten the ball rolling. Including, for some odd reason (that was not odd at all really), Horse.

Clever boy. The Nightmares adored him. Followed him everywhere, even without Pitch demanding it. Especially with Pitch demanding it.

 

* * * * * * * * * * *

 

It could have been that the Guardians thought they had ignored Jack long enough and it was time for a talk.

It could have been they thought Jack would be helpful to have for whatever event was happening in their frantically busy lives.

It could have been they heard he was hanging around Pitch Black and were worried what that was doing to his young impressionable mind.

It could have been many things.

All Pitch knew is that they had frightened Jack terribly, which was mistake number two.

(Mistake number one had been thinking that kidnapping a young child was a good idea in the first place.)

And this was capped off with mistake number three; thinking Pitch couldn’t reach them when he had just clearly proved he was able to get in and out of the North Pole with ease.

Darkness was coming to the Guardians, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Chapter 2: And in this corner..

Summary:

Round One Begins! FIGHT!

Notes:

I think I am happy with this. Mostly. But I am not sure if I need to add tags for this... Is this too violent?

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Jack’s shoulder hit the hard floor with an instant ache that meant he was not coming out of this unbruised. If he came out at all. The thick material of the sack he’d been so graciously crammed into felt like it was trying to smother him, pressing against his face until Jack flailed around trying to make it go away. A huff of cold air blasted against his neck, and for a moment Jack was comforted in knowing he had backup.

Fighting the sack open, he was only given a second to stare at the... tiny... pointy... elves? before something else grabbed him by the back of his neck and hauled him to his feet none too gently.

Jack whacked at the much, much larger creature with his staff, and though later he’d wonder how it had managed to fit into the sack with him, right now he just wanted the thing to put him down! A challenging screech seemed to confuse it, scratching at its furry head as Jack backed away, staff held in front of him defensively.

Bewildered, disoriented, only now did Jack realize people were arguing only a few yards away.

Well. ‘People.’

“He’s a pain in the ass!”

“-those teeth, how precious to have all his baby t-”

“He’s a lot younger than I had expected...”

“He is the biggest headache on this side of the planet!”

"-white as freshly fallen snow!"

Oh hell no. No no no. The only bright spot here was the fourth and silent figure, the Sandman. Leaving the others to their arm-waving and loud voices, Jack sidled closer to the small being. “Hey Sandy. Long time no see. Let’s catch up sometime that’s not here, kay?”

Patting Jack’s arm, Sandy offered a smile and gestured for Jack to take a seat with him.

“Mmmm no. I better get going. You know how Pitch can g-“

“Yes! Pitch! That is what we need to discuss Jack Frost!” Big, booming, and very close behind Jack who all but climbed the wall with his fingernails, instead he crouched down ready to blast the giant man with a sheet of ice, eyes going wide.

Santa Clause seemed to be at a loss for words as he looked down, finger in the air as if he’d been about to make a very serious statement. “Ahh…”

“Awwww, you scared him! It’s okay Jack, we’re not going to hurt you, we just want to talk,” Toothiana cooing while her little cloud of mini-fairies swarmed up to him. Jack only refrained from batting them away because they looked like baby-eyed hummingbirds and he couldn’t hurt a baby bird... yet. Give him time.

“Pitch is going to-“ he tried again and now was interrupted by the giant rabbit.

“He’s going to get you killed is what he’s going to do! And you’re such a brainless troublemaker, you’d not even notice until it was too late!”

“Now Bunny, Jack isn’t that ba-“

“No, he’s worse! He puts children in dangerous situations and helps their biggest enemy terrify them even MORE than before!”

Before Jack could add his own two cents of thought to that, his backup decided to do so instead. The Nightmare sprung out of the shadow behind Jack, screaming at the rabbit with snapping teeth and hooves pawing the air. It did not go far from Jack’s side, Bunny perfectly safe after leaping backwards but that did not stop the rabbit from pulling a boomerang and throwing it hard.

And Jack was wholly unprepared for when the Nightmare exploded into a shower of black sand, left gaping at the empty air.

 

* * * * * * * * * * *

 

Pitch was going to raise unholy hell on the Guardians for making off with his sprite but even he had to pause when confronted with a blizzard. Indoors. He was still furious, clawed fingers flexing and aching to be wrapped around a certain neck, but at same he was willing to stop and admire how Jack was taking his own vengeance.

Snow swirled thickly in the air, driven this way and that by a bone-freezing wind. Ice slick on the floor made footing treacherous for those wearing boots, and tore into the flesh of those not. Reaching up to touch a stinging cheek, Pitch realized it wasn’t just snow in the air, but also ice shards. He knew Jack was somewhere in the middle of the storm but... this was his show. Proceed, you clever clever boy.

On the opposite end of the room, North and Toothiana huddled against the fireplace. He was shielding her with his larger frame, back towards the fight between boy and rabbit. Without some sort of protection from the storm, he wasn’t able to get either of them to better safety.

Sandy was no where to be found.

Jack was past screaming insults at the rabbit, at least not in a language the fur ball could understand as the boy dissolved into shrieks and screeches. Bunnymund ducked a giant ice spike, hind paws kicking out in an attempt to take the boy down. Bleeding, mostly blind, almost frozen, but driven by his own anger too much to stand down. He was not fighting a child; he was fighting the biggest menace since Pitch took to the underground!

His feet connected with something. Something small and light and it gave way under his strength, flung across the room.

Jack rolled a few more feet until he came up against a wall, ears ringing as he struggled up onto his hands and knees, head hanging low. He’d been so angry about the destruction of the Nightmare, one of his friends!, that he just couldn’t help himself. But now he was afraid.

He’d started something he couldn’t finish and he was afraid the rabbit was going to kill him and what was he doing to the North Pole? He was ruining the workshop of Santa Clause; so many children were going to be devastated! Hands sliced open on his own ice, Jack couldn’t think clearly and decide what to do now. His chest hurt from the powerful blow, forcing him to take quick little gasps of air and his staff... Where was his staff?

The storm slowed and stopped as Jack lost his concentration.

 

* * * * * * * * * * *

 

Pitch stiffened as he tasted the vanilla-sweet fear, and as the wind died down enough to make the room visible once more, he was enraged just as much as before. His sprite was oozing blood from numerous cuts, crouched awkwardly and arms wrapped around his chest as if trying to hold himself together. It didn’t matter if the rabbit looked the same, if not worse in some cases, -no one- hurt Jack.

Able to finally stop a moment and catch his own breathe, Bunnymund stared at the brat, waiting for him to make a move. He was going to put his foot so far up the Winter Spirit’s ass that he was gunna-

Pain. Lots of pain and stars exploding behind his eyes. Something had snared his foot and yanked him into the air while his attention had been fixed on other things. Turning him so fast that his head hit the iced over floor, an ear scraped bloody on a rough patch. The black rope hurled him up into the air and dangled him there like a hunk of fresh meat ready to be gutted.

“You dare touch Jack? You dare harm my boy?” Pitch could barely get the words past his tongue, almost biting them off with sharp, sharp teeth.

He fed on the terror of the rabbit and shadows crept around the room like the rising of a Kraken. Once upon a time he had slaughtered dozens of Pooka, one was not going to be a big deal. And the rabbit knew this. He was going to tear E. Aster Bunnymund into tiny pieces and feed him to the crows. Tear. Him. Apart.

Notes:

Sooo.... yay?

Chapter 3: Sandy is a smart referee

Summary:

Many bruises. A broken bone or two. Broken head. All is well!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

As Pitch advanced, Bunnymund clawed at his ankle, trying to rid himself of the shadowy snare. If he was going to die then he was going to die on his feet and not hanging here like a hunting prize! Ears flattened against the back of his neck, Bunny curled in tightly on himself as he heard something big swing through the air.

Pitch always had favored the scythe.

But there was always hope and Bunny's salvation came in a flock of tiny hummingbird fairies that swarmed Pitch's head, causing him to stumble back and swing the scythe just under Bunny's head. And if not for Bunnymund trying to make himself a smaller target, both ears would surely have been lost.

"Get out of my way!" Pitch slapped a fairy out of the air, missing another as it shrieked defiantly. Three more were darting around his head and pulling at his hair to further distract him because if he was intent on squashing the fairies he was not intent on murdering the Pooka.

Nightmares burst out of the blackened walls to the call of his fury, but Toothiana now joined the fray with her swords to keep the black horses away from Bunny.

“Hang on Aster! I got you!“ All on her own she was able to keep the horses at bay giving Bunny more time to fight with the rope hoisting him up. She was using her blades and wings to beat them back but even such a formidable warrior wasn't able to keep -all- of them in check, every so often a Nightmare managed to a strike against her and drew blood.

The room was a mess; railings missing from the balcony and ice covering the floor. Windows shattered, pillars leaning to the side at an alarming angle. Nightmares screamed at the guardians, teeth snapping and hooves cracking the ice underfoot.

North was not faring well as much as he wanted to help, unable to get his footing on the slick floor. He could brace himself against the fireplace and attack the Nightmares from there, but otherwise he was unable to do much more than shout in very angry Russian.

Pitch finally got the fairies out of his hair, literally, by trapping them in a bubble of black sand that he flung to the side, taking aim once more for the rabbit dangling in the air and waiting to be disemboweled.

Again Bunny’s luck raised its head when a golden whip wrapped around the scythes handle and yanked it backwards over Pitch’s shoulder, out of his hands. Snarling, he whirled around to face down the tiny golden man who’d made it back to the balcony on a plate of dreamsand.

Sandy knew he would only have Pitch’s attention for a moment before the Nightmare King attacked, his hands raised in a Wait! Wait! position as tiny pictures were frantically formed over his head. Speaking so fast usually meant it impossible to understand but Pitch was near as old as Sandy and very fluent in the charades and Sandy was desperate enough to use the one topic sure to crack through Pitch’s rage and-

It worked.

Gold eyes flicked back, glancing towards Jack where he was leaning against a Nightmare with an arm over its back for balance and staff loosely gripped in the other. The boy was wavering on his feet, bruised and too exhausted to make an attempt at fighting.

Fury warred against concern, the need to revenge his sprite against taking care of him.

Jack was always, always first priority.

“Bunnymund better watch his step,” hissing darkly as Pitch slowly moved out of his battle stance. “He better keep an eye on the shadows, because one day I will be there to show him exactly how big a mistake he made.” That’s not to say he didn’t drop the large rabbit on his head, the long shadowy tether vanishing and letting Bunny crash to the floor several yards below.

He was going to be feeling that for days.

The Nightmares slowly vanished, leaving Toothiana hovering in the air both confused and bleeding. Broken feathers stuck out in odd angles from her body, colored red with her blood from sharp teeth and hooves.

“Come near Jack Frost again, and I will raze your home to the ground,” Pitch promised through bared teeth. “Next time Sanderson won’t be able to save you.” He stalked over to where the last Nightmare and Jack waited, ignoring the flimsy protests of being perfectly fine to pick the boy up. Protests which stopped as Jack pressed his cheek into Pitch’s shoulder, arm going around the man’s neck.

Pitch took them home.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Pitch later decided he had not done too badly if he counted this as a mere warning shot. Next time he would be sure to do much, much worse even if he had to send Jack home by Nightmare. (…mental note, teach Jack how to ride.) Counting off on the damages was quite pleasing, especially if he counted in Jack’s.

North’s home was suffering severe damage from an inside ice storm, which was appropriate since it had been his idea for the abduction.

For doing the abduction itself, Bunnymund was suffering enough injuries Pitch didn’t feel he had to go out immediately and prove his point that –no one touched Jack-. Not to mention that flood of pure terror at being so close to a very permanent death had Pitch in a very good mood.

Toothiana had been an afterthought, neither in charge of the scheme nor had a hand directly in it. She’d been suitably frightened enough, same with the little fairies.

Next time though...

Jack looked ridiculous. He’d demanded a Band-Aid for each tiny cut and scrape and was thus festooned with a variety of cartoon characters. His new hoody of thick fleecy blue hid the fact he’d needed his ribs wrapped with more medically-minded bandages, but all in all he looked to be in one piece. A little more colorful than before with that spectacular black eye, but not too bad.

Obviously playing Hide’n’Seek with the Nightmares gave Jack superior ducking skills.

Notes:

Don't be toooo disappointed the fight ended a lil early, Pitch really shouldn't kill off the Guardian of Hope.. That would be a disaster! But I think it went fairly well and logical and that I should do a last chapter of Jack being coddled?

Chapter 4: To the Winner Goes the Spoils

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Pitch knew fully well he was spoiling Jack and he could argue with himself that this was a recent and very understandible thing considering Jack’s injuries. Argue with himself and lose.

He tucked the boy against his side, sprawled out in their usual position for reading. Jack tended to end up sleeping across Pitch’s chest as time went by, but this was fine to start off with. Jack could see the pictures this way.

“This one? Again? Jack, I could recite this book by memory alone and describe in detail each illustration. Why do you need me to read it yet again?”

“Because it’s my favorite and I’m injured,” snuggling in. He was NOT too old to be read to, kids these days didn’t know what they were missing out on!

Pitch was distracted for a moment by the bright blue and yellow band-aid plastered over the middle of Jack’s forhead. Just because Pitch hadn’t seen a mark didn’t mean there wasn’t one, or so Jack had said. A ballerina danced on his right cheek, Superman guarded Jack’s left. A full dozen various heroes and animals decorated Jack’s body and Pitch found himself more amused than exasperated.

He eyed the old book in his hands, mangled and dirty and he should really replace it with a fresh copy. Again.

“If I must.”

 

* * * * * * * * * * *

 

Seated in a row like school children were North, Bunnymund, and Toothiana on the couch of North’s favorite sitting room, large fire crackling nearby to warm frozen toes and cups of cocoa for frozen hands. There were band-aids here too , but only the plain, boring kind and likely there had been no hugs to soothe the various hurts. Five tiny Toothfairies got a miniature row on North’s knees..Taking the role of Teacher was Sanderson, thus why there was a the giant golden ruler hovering over their heads in the threat of capitol punishment.

Mainly it was used to smack a Guardian into paying more attention should eyes slide away from Sandy while he was speaking. He was taking this moment of time to explain in precise detail all the things that had gone wrong today, and that list was very long and very much their own faults .

They had kidnapped a child.

“Sorry Sandy.”

They had stuffed the child into a sack like an animal.

“Sorry Sandy.”

The list went on. A bit cumbersome when speaking in charades but Sandy would repeat himself as many times as needed to sink it into the Guardians heads they had done wrong. A big wrong. They protected children, not beat them up!

“He started i-“

Bunny got an extra hard smack for that one.

Seriously.

Sandy shook his head, so disapointed in them all. He’d been too late to stop the abduction and never had the time to correct it, but he shouldn’t have had to. These were Guardians! Jack was a child! Where was the confusion?

“We will make it up to him!” North perked up with a wide smile. “We will ASK if he’d like to come see us. The workshop is filled with many wonders for a child, no?”

Sandy weighed the odds of Jack wanting to visit his kidnappers and Pitch LETTING Jack spend time with his kidnappers against a mountain of toys and candy.

…couldn’t hurt to offer. It’d be a step in the right direction.

Notes:

Short and sweet epilogue :D Obviously, Jack won this round.

Notes:

This could go well, or this could go badly, but I'm hopeful :D

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