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Every few years, Pitch would become quieter, more contemplative, and sink into a sea of loathing and hatred. Jack had never understood why but knew that, right now, this was just the beginning. He had only been with Pitch in the Lair for a hundred years or so - he had lost count of the All-Hallow's Eve celebrations and the bitter winters - it seemed like an eternity. But it wasn't a wrong eternity.
Time with Pitch slipped, like time had never existed. Days filled with dark, with screams, with fear, but Jack bought something else - He bought a dark conviviality, a sick and twisted fun that Pitch had never experienced before. They were no longer alone, and they had each other to rely on, to survive on. Jack would bring a welcome light to the dark caverns with his smile and his laughter, and for that Pitch was grateful. Without Jack, he would still be alone, mourning over something he'd never have known, an eternity in the dark with no nightmares and utterly alone and mad and the voices the voices the voices screaming and crying and shouting and pleading please let me go they've got me help me let me go
And Pitch would never have known the soft, gentle voice that could almost replace something he once had.
Jack bought light to Pitch's life. The light that was once created by his daughter and wife, who were cruelly ripped apart because of the shadows the shadows protect us protect them help them save them they need you don't go Seraphina no Seraphina stay no please no stop
Without Jack, Pitch would never have remembered his wife and daughter. Once, they had given him purpose in life. But now, Jack gave him purpose.
And that was when Pitch knew he would give into the Shadows once again, but for Jack.