Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 19 of Bye Bye Birdy
Stats:
Published:
2014-01-31
Completed:
2014-01-31
Words:
916
Chapters:
2/2
Comments:
54
Kudos:
538
Bookmarks:
8
Hits:
4,835

And lo, I saw Death before me

Summary:

Someone needs to teach Jack how to fight. Pitch can't do it, he doesn't want to hurt Jack even accidentally. So.. he asks a friend to do it.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Jack dug his heels in but it didn’t make much of a difference other than the stone floor removing a layer or two of skin.

“No! I won’t do it!”

Since Jack was determined to act like a squalling toddler, Pitch released Jack’s arm. But before the boy could brighten up too much, he was picked up around the waist and tossed into a shadowy corner. Rolling out the other side and sprawling across the surprisingly squashy floor, Jack took one look at the awaiting Spirit and yelped.

“I don’t need to learn how to fight! I do just fine with running away you know! The wind and the Night’s, it’s all perfectly swell!”

“There are times they cannot carry you away. So be quiet and stop with the howling,” Pitch scolded as he stepped over Jack’s body.

Jack continued to lay there and sulk as Pitch greeted the surprisingly modern Death. Robe and cowl? Try trench coat and cowboy hat. …and very shiny cowboy boots. When the polite small talk was over, Pitch turned back to Jack and sighed.

“Get off the floor Jack.”

“Why can’t you teach me?”

“Because I find myself unwilling to attack you, even in training. An annoying quirk I will have to work on if it dismays you so much. Until then, Death is a perfectly fine instructor and I expect you to do your best.”

“He’ll kill me! I’m going to die and then you’ll wish you had let me just go play!”

Pitch, rolling his eyes, grabbed Jack by the collar of his hoody and dragged him to his feet.

“Nonsense. I suspect you’ll be a little sore, but you most certainly will not be dead. So behave, be respectful, and pay attention.”

Jack peeked around the Bogeyman and shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Unless you want to be grounded for the rest of the year, you will do this.”

“He uses a SCYTHE, how’s he supposed to teach me to use my staff?”

“He has many talents, stop acting like a petulant child!”

“I AM a petulant child!”

“Fine, but you will be a petulant child that is either going to be polite and listen to his instruction, or be one grounded to a lair empty of all games for four months.”

Death waited, boney fingers hooked onto his belt, large shiny buckle gleaming in the shape of a skull much like his own. He certainly didn’t look like the devourer of small children, but Jack knew better. He'd heard the tales!

Jack also had no choice when Pitch vanished into the floor.

The -bastard-.

Child and Skeleton stared at each other.

“…sooo any good last words lately?”

Chapter 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Okay, dude, seriously. Where does the food all go?”

Jack stared at the skeleton as he chewed, the bite of hamburger managing to slowly vanish with each clack of teeth until it was all gone and Death took another bite.

Because... yeah. Perfectly natural to be sitting at a picnic table and eating fast food with his newest tutor. A skeleton in a cowboy hat. Death himself. Who dribbled ketchup onto his black coat and dabbed at it carefully with a handful of napkins in long boney fingers.

Perfectly natural to not have any idea where the food had actually come from and if he was even eating real food.

Jack was getting a headache trying to figure out the logistics of it all, and finally took a chomp of his own burger. …aww this was his favorite hoody! What was with all the ketchup? Surplus?

Propping his chin on a fist and ignoring the ketchup until it dried and he could scrape it off, “alright, let’s ignore the food question for now. How did Pitch manage to wrangle you in as my weapons teacher? Thanks for the bruises by the way; I adore being black and blue. So fashionable. So hip. Like your boots.”

For all that he was bare bone, Death had a remarkable ability to make Jack pretty sure he’d just raised an invisible eyebrow and glanced down at his highly polished cowboy boots.

“Not that I’m one to say anything, but rhinestones? Really? The skull and crossbones are a nice touch and all but…” Jack trailed off and pouted as Death just took another bite. And chewed. And chewed.

“Just because you’re my teacher doesn’t mean you can ignore me. I’ll keep talking. I can get pretty annoying! And insulting! I can chatter on for hours until your ears are bleeding and fall off completely and-

“Before our next season, get some boots. You’ll trip less and maybe won’t break any more toes.” A little gravely, a little grouchy, it was just what a Cowboy should sound like from the Wild Wild West.

“AHAH! JACK WINS AGAIN!” Jack waved his arms, and hamburger, around as he crowed. Ketchup splattered everywhere. “All fear the Chatt- hey what? Oh no. I don’t wear shoes. They cramp my style. And it’s only a little broken, not all broken, just a little broken. “Jack tucked his sore foot under him, though careful not to sit on the toes themselves. Hell, he felt sore all over. The nice cushy floor had not been cushy enough.

“Tell Pitch you need to work on your grip.”

“Hey, no homework! I ain’t got time for that!”

“And that he needs to feed you more.”

“I eat plenty!”

“And that you are one of the –noisiest- spirits I’ve ever had to teach.”

“…it’s an art.”

Notes:

I blame all you guys for this add-on, lol. And in pondering what Jack and Death would do, beyond the actual teaching and no idea how to go about doing that, I thought they should have a little Student-Teacher bonding. Nothing like eating messy hamburgers to loosen up!

Series this work belongs to: