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Chapter Text

It was one year since Jack Frost had joined the Guardians and chased Pitch Black away never to be seen again. One year of more children believing in him, giving him strength, and having fun.

Jack had spent his first summer as a guardian in Antarctica, building himself a small ice palace. He would never abandon his beloved pond in the woods, but he would also never deny the children a place to swim on hot summer days.

He had chosen the South Pole partly because the North Pole belonged to Nick, and partly because he was a winter spirit. Summer in north meant winter in the south. Even if winters were milder under the equator, frost was certainly not unheard of. Also, he really liked penguins.

Jack wasn't much for staying in one place for too long, but he wasn't going to be the only guardian without cool digs, emphasis on the cool.

The northern autumn had, thanks to his new believers, been the best in many years. Jack had put frost on brightly coloured leaves all over the world, made things sparkle at sunrise, and glitter at dawn.

He had visited Halloween, but found it boring and moved on. It wasn't fun when he didn't manage to convince anyone that the chill down their back was more than just a chill. He had thought it slightly strange, but didn't dwell on it.

The winter wasn't that fun either. It was supposed to be Jack's time, full of play, and fun, and snow, and laughter, and... By the time winter was over, Jack had blackened more noses, fingers and toes than he wanted to count, and frozen no more than twelve lost children to death.

Sandy had been with him at those times, giving the child a last happy golden dream before the final sleep. It saddened Jack that Sandy seemed quite an expert in giving those last dreams. The two spirits had held hands as they watched life slip away. None of the children had cried.

When spring came Jack took a sigh of relief. Children would still got lost, but at least they wouldn't freeze as much anymore.

Now it was Easter again. Jack kept away from spreading too much frost in the mornings, but it was hard not to take advantage of the opportunity to tease Bunny.

But then Jack found Bunny under a tree near an abandoned egg-hunt. Bunny was small, cute as a button, and very sad.

"Bunny?" he asked the deflated creature. "What happened? Where is everybody?"

"They left," said Bunny in his Australian voice that was bigger that his current body frame could produce.

Bunny was holding a broken purple egg in his paws, his soft fur smeared in yoke.

"It was hidden there," Bunny indicated a branch on the tree above him, there was a perfect cradle of twigs at the end of it. "She was fearless, the little sheila. She climbed up and got the egg, then..."

Bunny's voice trailed off. Jack pale skin paled even more.

"She jumped?" he asked.

"Fearless," Bunny hugged the eggshell to his small chest so the shards cracked to smaller pieces.

Jack looked down on the ground under his feet. It was frozen, the red blood was clear on the ice. He shivered as he had once shivered from the cold that wasn't bothering him anymore.

He took a step forward and scooped up Bunny in his arms. Bunny made no protests, he was too sad, and his thick fur protected him from Jack's chilling touch.

Jack called on the Eastern Wind to carry them away to the Warren. Once there he handed Bunny over to the care of the small Christmas elf that had made the place his new home after last years adventure.

The little thing was just as stupidly moronic as all elves were, but there was nothing wrong with his heart. Soon Bunny was clean and snuggled in a big ball of fresh hay, and being patted by a tiny hand on the head. Jack looked on and smiled sadly.

As Bunny drifted off to sleep, Sandy arrived and gave him a soothing dream about spring.

"Something is wrong with the children," said Jack solemnly.

Sandy nodded and mimicked fiercely while shapes of stars and fireworks danced over his head.

"They are too brave," agreed Jack. "Bunny said the girl was fearless... Just as the children who froze. None of them cried."

Sandy nodded again. He showed with sand and gestures something growing, how he was working harder, how children's dreams were getting bigger, and more and more difficult to control.

"Like there is nothing stoping them..."

Sandy nodded.

"Do you think we should ask the others?" asked Jack. "I mean, if they have noticed anything strange?"

Sandy nodded and pointed to him, then he pointed to himself and a shape of a sleeping child over his head.

"I'll ask, you need to work?" repeated Jack to be sure.

Sandy nodded again, gave Bunny a last sad look and then floated away on his golden cloud of dreams.

Jack already had his suspicions of what was going on, but he needed to know more first. He headed for the Tooth Palace.

Tooth was sitting on the floor of one of her platforms. A few of her fairies buzzed around her as she examined something small in her hand. She looked up with a sad smile when Jack arrived. The fairies chirped a collective giggle.

"Jack," said Tooth and held out her hand. "Look at this."

Jack frowned as she showed him four small bloodied teeth, no, they were three teeth, one was spilt in two. He winced.

"All from the same boy. The girls..." she indicated her fairies, "...say that he tried to pet a big dog. The dog jumped on him and he fell to the sidewalk, hitting his face."

"Has there been many accidents like that lately?" asked Jack.

She nodded, looking both scared and sad.

"At the moment, teeth from accidents are equal to the natural loss. That's a horrible increase. It's like..." she hesitated, because she knew what her words meant.

"They are not scared anymore," agreed Jack. "Sandy's dreams are growing too big, Bunny's believers are reckless, children are getting lost in the cold but they are not crying..."

Tooth took a horrified, realising breath.

"North told me that all the children wanted to sit on his lap at Christmas. All the children, I mean, there are usually some that are scared of him. He was happy about it though..."

"Christmas isn't that affected of fearlessness," noted Jack.

"I guess not," tooth bit her lower lip.

"I was thinking about asking Jack Skellington as well," said Jack. "But I already know that Halloween went badly."

"Is..." Tooth swallowed nervously. "Do you think it is our fault? For chasing away Pitch Black?"

"I don't know," said Jack. "But I'm going to find out."

Chapter Text

Jack had never seen night-foals before, though he guessed the shadow creatures that surrounded him would rather be called night-fouls. Whatever they were, they were no longer mares.

A child seeing such a creature would rather laugh at it's fumbling appearance, or coo at it's cuteness and feeble attempts of being scary. Jack almost felt sad for them as he gently plowed his way through the small heard. They followed him like ducklings after a mother goose, or something.

He continued deeper inside the caverns of the Nightmare King.

But there was no Nightmare King there, and there was light. Real light slipping in from cracks and openings in the stone ceiling, showing off the beauty of the the stalagmites, stalactites, and glittering pools of water.

The water got a thin hue of ice as Jack approached it carefully. The fouls seemed to think the ice was a very exiting thing to break with their hooves.

Something was very wrong here.

"Excuse me? Who are you at what are you doing in my home?"

Jack whisked around, holding his staff up before him on instinct.

A very tall, slim and handsome man was standing by a door in the stone that hadn't been there a moment ago. His hair was black, his skin was pale, his eyes light brown, and he was wearing a well tailored grey three price suite with a night-blue bow-tie.

"Pitch?" asked Jack hesitantly. "Is that you?"

"You are that boy," Pitch narrowed his eyes. "Frost, I seem to recall."

"Yes," Jack frowned and lowered his staff. "I was looking for you actually. I thought we could talk."

Pitch huffed.

"I don't have time for talks, I'm in the middle if important research."

"Can I see?" Jack stepped forward, the fouls still following him adoringly.

"Well..." Pitch hesitated, shifting his stance. "Since you are here... I might as well..." he looked nervous. "I guess you can watch. But don't touch anything!"

"I promise," smiled Jack and let himself be lead through the door.

The fouls tried to follow him but Pitch held up his hand.

"Have you washed your hooves?" he asked. "Noir, I'm looking at you, and you, Negro, last time there was mud everywhere."

The fouls looked ashamed, tapping their hooves.

"That's what I thought," Pitch shook his head. "All of you, wait outside."

He firmly closed the door.

"You have names for all of them?" laughed
Jack.

"Of course I have," Pitch adjusted his jacket. "They deserve names like everyone else. Svart, Sort, Schwartz, Niger, Burakku, Chernyy..."

"You named them all after yourself?" Jack was giggling."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"It's like me having a army of snowmen all named 'Frosty'!"

"Do you?" Pitch almost looked excited for a fraction of a moment.

"No," Jack shook his head. "But I named my favourite penguin 'Mr. Nibs' if that helps."

"Why are you here, Frost?"

"You invited me in to look at your research," Jack gave Pitch his most innocent smile, which was very innocent indeed.

Pitch glared at him.

Jack hurried to look away and started to examine the room.

It was also natural cavern, though with a carved out fireplace. It was furnished with several old and massive wooden tables, brimming over of chemical and alchemist equipment. There was a small writing desk against one of the walls. And books, the place was laden with books. The light was soft and natural, coming both from the fire and cracks in the stone.

"Nice place," said Jack.

And it was quite nice, which worried him a great deal. There was hardly any shadows at all, and what ever things that would go bump in the night were nowhere to be heard.

He moved around the tables too look closer on the strange things that was bubbling and hissing all around. Jack marvelled at the strangeness of it all.

"Careful," said Pitch.

He hurried forward to make Jack aware of the small dog-bed on the floor. There was no dog on the soft red cushion, but a small foul. She looked like a shadow of a newborn colt. When Jack hunched down, she made such a feeble attempt to scare him that it almost broke his heart.

"There, there, Nero," Pitch sat down next to them in the floor. "Don't worry, girl."

Pitch held out his empty hand towards the foul. The creature nuzzled the hand, and made a sound like it was breathing in hard. Pitch shivered slightly. The foul suddenly seemed a bit stronger.

"That will hold you," smiled Pitch, his cheeks looked rosy and his black hair started to curl slightly into charming locks.

"Pitch..." Jack was really worried now. "What's going on?"

"Oh, I didn't offer you anything to drink," Pitch got to his feet, smiling. "I'm so sorry. Tea? Oh, sorry, silly of me! You don't probably drink hot drinks. Iced tea?"

Pitch moved through a big crack in the cavern wall, Jack followed him. They came out in another cave, this one resembling a Victorian kitchen.

"I'll put the kettle on, and then you can chill it to your liking. Is that all right? There are some biscuits somewhere..."

Jack couldn't stand it any more, he grabbed hold of the taller man's arms and forced him to look down at him.

"What is wrong with the nightmares?" He asked. "Tell me!"

Pitch sighed and gave him a sad smile.

"Can't you see that for yourself, sweet child?" Pitch patted Jack's white hair and kissed his forehead. "They are dying. They are starving to death."

"And you?" Jack was confused by the sudden physical contact. "You are letting them feed on your darkness? But look at you! You are running out!"

"I'm am a spirit of the Dark, Frost," Pitch smiled, still stroking Jack's hair. "I can't ever run out of darkness..." he sighed. "Though, I admit that they are eating more and faster than I can produce. Czarny died a week ago. Zwart not long before."

"Why don't you go out and get some more darkness?"

Jack was still holding Pitch's arms, not knowing were to put his hands otherwise. This light version of the Nightmare King was actually quite attractive. Not that he hadn't been attractive before... Jack tried to collect himself, he was here for a reason, and this was not it.

"You know," Pitch frowned. "I honestly don't remember... I think... I think there is something out there, something that really scares me... I think..." He paused.

"What?" Jack felt the long fingers still against his scalp.

"I think it's you," Pitch took a step back, away from Jack's grip. "You are the one who scares me."

"Me?"

"I would like you to leave now," there was real fear in Pitch's eyes.

"Pitch..."

"Please leave!"

Pitch had backed into a corner. He looked absolutely terrified. Jack held up his hands and took a step back.

"I'll go," he said. "I'm going to go and talk to the others, all right? And then I'm going to come back, okay? I'm going to help you, Pitch. Everything is going to be fine."

"Go!" Pitch screamed as he sank to the floor, hugging his head to his knees.

Jack left.

On his way out he passed the sick foul, Nero, who staggered passed him towards the kitchen. When he opened the door to the large cavern, the other fouls hurried passed him as well. They left a trail of mud on the floor.

Jack felt guilty for invoking such fear in Pitch. The fouls were hungry, and their master was their only food. He could hear Pitch scream in terror behind him as he climbed up to ground-level again.

He stopped then, and turned right back. There was no way in hell Jack was going to abandon a fellow spirit in distress, and certainly not one that he had put there himself

Chapter Text

"What a lovely place," smiled Pitch. "What are those fascinating beasts?"

"Yetis," Jack held Pitch's hand in a firm grip as they walked through the gates of the North Pole workshop. "Don't touch them, they are stingy."

The yetis grumbled at them, but Pitch just smiled back, making the beasts look very confused.

"Oh look!" Pitch took up a teddybear from one of the many piles of toys. "How cute!"

Pitch's hair was curly as a cherub's. His suit was light blue. There was a constant smile on his lips, and he was rosier than a newborn baby. If there was any darkness left in him, it was very well hidden away. The small nightmares had made a good meal of him.

"Jack!" North's booming voice greeted them. "What is this, eh? You come for visit?"

"Actually," Jack tugged Pitch to him. "We need you to summon a meeting. There are some important things to discuss."

"Good afternoon, Mr. North," said Pitch, taking his place next to Jack, and putting his hand on Jack's lower back. "You have a delightful place here."

"Thank you," said North. "You be Jack's boyfriend, yes? Congratulation! Jack has not said this news."

"No!" Jack held up his hands, stepping away from Pitch's touch. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! He is not my boyfriend. I don't have a boyfriend! North, this is Pitch Black! The Boogeyman! The Nightmare King!"

"You is sure?" North frowned, looking Pitch over. "He looks like boyfriend."

"Just call the meeting," sighed Jack. "And you," he turned to Pitch, pointing to him with the staff. "Stop touching me!"

"But it's nice," protested Pitch, his errant curls framing his shiny smiling face.

"Please," Jack rubbed his forehead, and tried not to think that Pitch was right, it did feel nice. "Just try to brood up some nice darkness."

"Right-o," chipped the Nightmare King. "Can I look at the toys?"

"Fine."

Jack walked over to North who had just sent out the summons to the others. North shook his head.

"He is broken," said the large man, shaking his head. "We fix."

"How?"

North had no time to answer before a hole in the ground opened up and Bunny, still in his tiny form and holding his Easter-elf in paw, jumped up to the floor. The hole closed with a tiny sprig of forget-me-not.

"Oh! You are so cute and fluffy!" cooed Pitch. "Can I scratch you behind the ears?"

"What the bleedn' fuck?" squeaked Bunny as long fingers caressed his ears. "Ah, that's the stuff... I mean Hey! Get away!"

Bunny hid behind the Easter-elf, who was picking his nose and didn't seem at all bothered that everyone was looking at him.

"Pitch," sighed Jack, taking the spirit's arm. "How are you coming on that Darkness?"

"Oh, just perky," said Pitch.

He pointed to one of the Christmas-elves that had around them. The tiny thing gave a frightened squeal. Then it fell over in giggles that infected at least twenty of the other elves, who also giggled over. Their bells chimed as they rolled around. Pitch smiled like a proud father.

"That's nice," said Jack, exchanging a glance with North. "Keep up the good work."

The next to arrive was Sandy. The otherwise jolly little plump man was considerably thinner, and obviously exhausted. One of North's yetis hurried to press a goblet of hot eggnog into the golden hands.

Tooth was carried in by twenty of her little fairies. They sat her limply down on the floor, where she could lean on a pile of stuffed teddy-polar-bears.

"Junior ice-hockey tournament," she breathed. "Teeth everywhere... Don't ask."

"Shall I make tea?" asked Pitch.

"Yes," said North. "Good idea. Yeti Karl will show you to kitchen!"

The Guardians watched as Pitch was happily led away by the yeti. Jack felt sad. He had felt pity for Pitch a year ago when they had defeated him. But then there had at least been someone to pity. This Pitch was not even aware that he had lost something.

"We need to get him back as he was," Jack said, gripping his staff in determination.

"He was horrible as he was," Tooth bristled her feathers. "And dangerous."

"He is even more dangerous as he is now," objected Bunny. "Fearless children are one thing, mate. But soon they will be fearless adults, and that's... That's bad."

Sandy nodded, shapes of stars, strong people, fists, explosions, and things too fast to register, flashed in golden sand over his head.

"Is wrong to have big dreams?" asked North.

"Everybody can't have big dreams," said Tooth, slowly getting to her feet with the aid of some fairies. "Who will then take care of the little things?"

"Yes," Jack nodded. "And there aren't too many big things to go around, soon they will begin to fight over them... And then..."

"There will be war," agreed North. "A war with fearless soldiers. Soon everybody will be on naughty-list."

They stood quiet for a moment, thinking.

"What shall we do?" asked Jack.

Sandy made a sign of having an idea. He made a mimic about Pitch pouring sand in to a bag, and then eating the bag.

"What?" frowned Jack.

"He means..." said Bunny, still looking very cute, but somehow braver. "...that we must let Pitch go out and gather fear and darkness from the world. And then let him feed on it."

"Good idea," said North. "But he need supervisor, so he do not overdo it. I say Jack."

"Me?" Jack groaned. "Why me?"

"Your boyfriend."

"He is not my boyfriend!"

"You sure?" North looked over to where Pitch was coming towards them with a large tea tray, and a pleasant smile aimed at Jack. "Because he looks like boyfriend.

Chapter Text

Jack had finally agreed to be Pitch's keeper, but only because it was late spring and it would soon be summer in the northern hemisphere, and because he decided that the farmers on the south hemisphere could have a mild winter this year. It was not because of the way Pitch's eyes had lit up at the suggestion that Jack would accompany him.

They sat on the edge of a forest, watching a troop of boy scouts, all about the age of ten, gather around a campfire. Pitch had produced enough Darkness on his own to look slightly bored with the situation.

"Are you sure there will be ghost-stories?" he asked.

"Trust me," said Jack. "There are always ghost-stories."

It took about twenty minutes before they realised that there wasn't going to be any stories. The boys were to busy barging about their day and talking about their ambitions for the future. Two of them actually stated arguing because they wanted the same thing.

Pitch took a handful of their anger and looked through it for fear. The red smoke swirled in his hand as he stirred it with a finger, nothing. Jack sent a surge of cold over the campsite to calm the boys down.

He watched as Pitch formed the anger to something like a red smoky snowball and held it between his cupped hands. The mild irritation that had been on Pitch's face before disappeared as the ball turned black. Jack stared as Pitch turned into the happily clueless man again.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Snack," said Pitch, biting into the black orb as if it was an apple, it actually crunched like one. "Would you like some?"

He held out the 'fruit' towards Jack with an innocent smile. It's fleshy insides was red as blood.

Jack knew he shouldn't, but curiosity had always been his weakness. He took the offering carefully, it felt like an apple as well. White frost spread from his fingers over the glossy surface. He took a small nibble without touching it with his lips.

It tasted sweet and bitter at the same time, but it wasn't bad. He got a sudden urge to cause mischief, like blowing out some electrical generators with cold, or frost some power lines until they broke. Then he couldn't help but to laugh at the thought.

"Interesting," he said handing the 'fruit' back to Pitch.

Pitch looked like he was blushing, but it was hard to see clearly in the dark. Jack busied himself frosting down a nearby tree.

It took another twenty minutes before something new happened over by the fire.

Usually that amount of time would mean nothing for a sprit that had been alive for centuries, but it was different when sitting in the natural dark next to someone staring at you affectionately. Jack almost whooped when the poor troop leader suggested that they go to their tents for the night.

"Ready?" he asked.

Pitch nodded and took out a large toy-sack that they borrowed from North from the shadow he had stored it in. Hopefully, that sack would be full by the time the night ended.

Sandy had promised to give the boy-scouts some suggestive dreams that hopefully could be twisted by Pitch's mere presence and their own childish imaginations.

Jack was hoping for some good imagination, because Pitch in his present stage would only suggest to dreams of the opposite nature from bad. Especially now after Jack had been watching Pitch eat the surprisingly juicy apple of anger and licking his long fingers.

"That boy there," said Pitch pointing to a, for Jack completely random, scout. "Perfect starting point."

"How can you tell?" asked Jack.

"He has worries," Pitch grasped after the boy, got a fistful of something looking like grey smog, and showed it to Jack. "Mother in hospital, I believe. The poor dear."

"Can you work with that?" Jack poked the little smog and it evaporated in ice-crystals, before Pitch got too affected by it.

"I can work with anything," said Pitch, letting the flakes scatter from his fingers.

They walked closer to the campsite. Their target was sharing a tent with two other boys. Pitch used a shadow to get Jack and himself inside the tent. It was a right space, and Jack had to sit pressed to Pitch's side to fit.

Not before long some golden dream-sand came floating into the tent. Jack avoided being hit by the dream by leaning even more into Pitch. He shifted, he really wasn't used to all this closeness.

The sand above the boy shaped into a soaring eagle, with the boy on it's back. Pitch reached out and poked the small golden sand-boy off the bird. The fall lasted only for a short moment before the dream boy was flying by itself.

"It didn't work," frowned Jack. "He didn't get scared."

"Wait," murmured Pitch, taking a pinch out if the sand. "Here..."

He showed Jack three small grains of black sand on the tip of his forefinger.

"That's all?"

"Fear has a tendency to grow." said Pitch, dropping the grains into the sack. "It's a good start by the circumstances. Calls for a celebration."

"What kind of cele...." Jack was cut off by a pair of lips pressing on his in a enthusiastic kiss.

Jack gasped into the kiss, letting Pitch closer than he ever let anyone before. But that was just for a glorious moment, before he placed his hand on Pitch's chest, and pushed the older spirit away with a surge of cold and ice.

Chapter Text

"What has happened?" asked North as the northeastern wind landed Jack in front of the gates to the workshop.

Jack was carrying Pitch over his shoulder, he staggered as his feet touched ground. Pitch heavier than he looked, and Jack still had the body of a teenager.

"I think I froze his heart," said Jack, letting a yeti help him with his burden. "It was an accident. I panicked. I didn't even know he had a heart."

"He has heart, but it is bigger now," North put in his glasses and looked closer at the catatonic spirit. "New weaknesses. He tried to do something naughty?"

North was leading the way to a different part of the construct that Jack hadn't been before. Everything seemed to become more homely the further they went. It also smelled stronger of gingerbread.

Jack shook his head. Pitch looked quite peaceful in the yeti's hairy arms. If it wasn't for the empty look in his open eyes you would have thought him snuggling comfortably. He still had the cherub-look about him though, which made the whole thing more disturbing.

"No," blushed Jack. "It was actually quite nice..."

"Hmm," North smirked. "You get Darkness?"

"Oh!" Jack hit his forehead. "I forgot the sack!"

He had been too busy dragging Pitch out if the small tent. Since none of the children believed in him, the Nightmare King had fallen right through them as Jack had pushed him back.

The sleeping boy had convulsed at the closeness to the dark spirit. It had been quite difficult to pull Pitch loose, and at one time Jack had made it snow from the canvas ceiling. The three boys would most certainly catch terrible colds later on. The sack had been left behind.

"I need to go and get it back," said Jack.

"You do that," nodded North. "We put boyfriend in guest room."

"He's not..." Jack began, but stopped as North opened up the door to a very lovely room.

The walls were dark wood, decorated with winter paintings. There was a large fireplace, decorated in elaborate stone-carvings of holly. There was a large bed with red and white sheets, and really soft-looking pillows.

The yeti placed Pitch on the bed, tucking him in under the sheets. North snapped his fingers and a fire was magically lit in the fireplace.

"He warm right up," said North. "I ask Mrs. Claus for warm eggnog. Lots of brandy, yes?"

"Sounds good," Jack reached out and pushed an errant curl off Pitch's face. "Is this what he looked like? All those years ago? Before he was... When he wasn't a spirit?"

"I do not know," North shook his head. "He was before me. Only Sandy is older."

Jack withdrew his hand. Pitch was really old, ancient even. Compared to him, Jack wasn't anything with his mere three centuries. Compared to him, Jack was insufficient and tiny, and as soon as Pitch got his Darkness back he would know it again.

"I'll get the sack," he said, taking a breath and fleeing the room.

He ran the corridors unto he found an exit from where the could let the wind take him away. A cloud of heavy snow followed him on his journey through the air.

Jack had felt for Pitch before, a year ago, when they first met under totally different circumstances. He had sympathised with the feelings of being lost, being alone, not being believed in, and longing for a family.

When Pitch gave Jack the offer to join him back then, it had been tempting, especially when he had seen the look of further loss and sadness on Pitch's pale face. But Pitch had wanted to rule the world by being feared, and Jack didn't want rule at all.

Now... Now that lost soul in North's guest-room was someone else. Someone with a big heart, a screwed up memory, and messed up feelings.

Jack took in a surprised breath of icy air as he landed at the boy scouts' campsite again. He could hear screams as he landed. Terrifying screams from a group of young boys all waking up from horrors simultaneously.

Next to the tent, in which he and Pitch had been, stood a giant, and very adult, nightmare. She was bigger than any workhorse Jack had ever seen.

"Look at the size of you," Jack held on to his staff, moving slowly not to spook the mare. "And you are still feeding. The children giving you a good meal?"

She preened and gave a rumbling neigh, her bright red eyes looking directly on Jack.

"Nero?" asked Jack carefully, remembering the little sickly shadow-colt in Pitch's workroom, "What happened to you?"

He wished he hadn't asked asked, because she nuzzled his face and showed him exactly what had happened in a dark vision.

She had eaten her sisters, all of them. Every single one. The horrific image would probably hunt Jack's own dreams in the future. He swallowed and took a step back.

"You are..." Jack looked around the camp where several boys where coming out their tents, some of them crying. "You are looking for your master, aren't you girl?"

Jack slowly moved towards the tent, not looking away from Nero. He hoped that he could find the sack quickly. The gains of sand inside it must be hidden from the mare, or the inhabitants of the tent would surely have been scared to death without even knowing why.

"Stay there," Jack held out his hand to calm her as he looked inside the tent.

The three boys were huddled together, their breaths like steam in the cold air. The worried one, the one with his mother in the hospital, stared directly at Jack. He tried to smile in a calming way, but the boy only moved closer to his friends.

"Everything is going to be fine," Jack whispered as he reached for the red sack, and backed out of the tent.

When he got out the mare was sniffing around the shadows where Jack and Pitch had hidden before.

"You can't find him..." murmured Jack. "The trail has ended here... Is it... because I froze his heart?"

Jack looked Nero over. He could take her to Pitch, but if he did, she would most certainly keep the Nightmare King drained of Darkness, maybe forever.

The thought of having a permanent light Pitch was quite appealing, especially from Jack's point of view. But on the other hand, light-Pitch wasn't the real Pitch.

Another point was that light-Pitch would probably have great trouble controlling Nero. The giant mare was just a great mass-hysteria waiting to happen if she ever got loose.

Fearless children or not, the mare's influence on the mortals around her was worrying.

There was only one thing to do. Jack would have to keep Nero as far away from Pitch until the spirit had regained his powers. As soon as Pitch was himself again he could take care of her, maybe even make her a little less big.

He could take her to Antarctica, the ice-palace would keep her trapped if he fortified it, and there were no one near for her to eat. Jack had frozen nightmare-sand before. It was a good plan, but how to execute it was another thing entirely.

On a whim. Jack looked inside the sack, it seemed a bit heavier. The bottom was covered in black sand. Pitch had been right, fear did grow.

He put his hand down and grabbed a small fistful of sand.

"Here, Nero," he held out his hand to her. "Good girl. Come to Jack..."

Chapter Text

With the help of the black sand, some coaxing, and some careful prodding with his staff, Jack managed to get Nero away from the boy scouts.

"Come on," Jack took to the air on a gush of wind. "Come on..."

He held out his hand, full of sand. Nero followed carefully.

"I'm going to take you somewhere," he smiled. "You love'll it there. It's cold, and dark, and wet..."

Jack then made the second stupidest thing he had done in his close-to-immortal life, the first being abandoning his new friends on Easter last year. He took a breath and placed himself on the back of the nightmare.

Nero looked back at him over her shoulder, but was probably calmed by his clear nervousness.

Jack had no idea how to steer her, but did a combination of word-coaxing, mane-tugging, heel-kicking and wind-gushing. It seemed to work as Nero took to the air and headed south.

Within moments the ride was one of the most awesome things Jack had ever experienced, right up there with Santa's sleigh, and with the first time discovering his powers. He held out his arms to the wind rushing by and laughed.

Nero seemed to enjoy the exhilaration, and made a couple of loops that made Jack's chest clench with exited fear. Jack now felt even more bad for the children who had lost their ability to be scared. Without fear, how could you ever enjoy wonderful rides like this?

They arrived to the South Pole almost too soon. He slipped off Nero's back, the snow reached over his bare ankles. Nero's giant hooves didn't even breach the surface of the crust. Two could play that game, and Jack took a step up, standing easily on the crust as well.

Jack's ice palace was covered in snow, making it look like a strange cloud with spires, he likes it.

Luring Nero to follow him with the last of the sand, Jack manages to get the mare into the palace and one of the larger rooms.

"There you go," he says, shaking the bag empty over the floor.

It feels wrong to misuse the mare's trust like this, especially since he just gained it. As she is distracted Jack freezes the sand she is made of.

Nero doesn't notice until she is stuck, halfway covered in ice. She latches out toward Jack, and sinks her black teeth into his shoulder.

Jack screamed. Pain. Darkness. Terror. Fright. All of his insecurities, inadequates, and feelings of loneliness welled up inside him. He was crying, but he finished the task.

It seemed like the mare knew she was loosing, because suddenly she changed tactics. With her last strength she took her last meal from Jack, sucking him dry from and fear he had ever held. Even from the memory of watching his little sister standing on the crackling ice so many years ago.

Jack yanked back as the last of the mare froze over. He watched the red eyes stare maliciously at him through the ice, but he only felt happy. He laughed.

He had never been completely fearless before. What was so bad about this? He felt he could do anything. Avalanches, blizzards, instant freezing, ice storms, a whole new ice age! He could do it all!

Jack laughed and let the wind take him to the air, shattering through the fine frosted ceiling as he did.

He took a speedy tour of the Antarctic, made penguins slip by the hundreds, made a research team hurriedly run inside their bungalow, and got a passing transport ship get so stuck in the ice that the crew would have to walk home.

Then he remembered his greatest fear, that now was gone. It was the fear that if he opened up to Pitch, would Pitch then leave him with a broken heart? Trifles! A broken heart? How was that something to fear?

"Wind!" he called, only sparing a moment at the thought that he was actually going to travel to the other side of the world. "Take me to the North Pole!"

Jack maybe made a few detours on the way. There was one avalanche in Austria that was quite out of season.

"Hrumph," greeted a surprised yeti as Jack arrived in phantasmagoric cloud of snow and ice. "Hruff!"

"Same to you there, my boy," winked Jack as he juggled his staff as a baton. "You are just a big bag of fur aren't you? How I ever thought you were scary. You make doll's dream houses for a living!"

The yeti growled menacingly, but Jack just laughed.

"Can't stay, fur-coat," Jack continued inside the Yule castle. "Bedrooms to be, spirits to see!"

He searched his way back to the guest room he'd left Pitch in. He passed about twenty elves on the, all very nervous.

Pitch was on the large soft bed, reading an ancient book. The once cheery room was now full of shadows and pools of Darkness. Pitch's black hair had lost most of its locks, and his skin was much greyer.

"Jack Frost," Pitch narrowed his eyes. "I suppose you think that I owe you one for this?"

"For not letting you get eaten by your own pets?" smirked Jack, approaching the bedside without hesitation. "Yes, I think you do."

"I see that you didn't have such a lucky escape though..." Pitch looked him over with a knowing smile.

"She bit me," Jack pulled off his blue hoodie, exposing his lean and pale chest.

Jack let the clothing fall to the floor where it was concealed by shadows. He climbed up on the bed, showing his shoulder to Pitch.

"Here."

"I can see that," Pitch caressed a long forefinger over the red ridges on Jack's shoulder. "She really drained you. Poor winter spirit... Guardian of fun, without any fear of the boogeyman..."

"Why should I fear you?" Jack leaned closer, looking down on Pitch's curvy lips.

A flicker of that old familiar sadness, the painful loneliness, was in Pitch's fire-coloured eyes for just a moment.

"Why indeed?" Pitch asked as he closed the distance between their lips in a kiss.

It was like first snow on a cold autumn day, like the perfectly shaped snowball, like a untouched field covered in frost. Jack drew Pitch closer, and wondered what this was. Was it a goodbye? Why was Pitch really kissing him? Pity? Was the Nightmare King preparing to pull Jack's exposed heart out of his chest?

He could feel clawing and demanding fingers on his back. Jack breath hitched in fear to a icy cloud of cold air as Pitch's kisses moved to his neck, tasting the skin there. Ice-crystals stuck to Pitch's hair. Jack raised a hand to push the other sprit away.

Pitch caught his hand, and pulled back so they were eye to eye.

"I don't need another heart freeze," whispered Pitch. "You can just tell me to stop, and I will."

Jack was scared, really scared. He moved back away from Pitch's lap, which he had no idea how he got on. Sitting on the sheet he felt small and exposed. He hugged his bare arms around him, too scared to look up at the other spirit.

"I think I gave you a bit too much, dear Jack," Pitch gave Jack's hair a light tug. "But I think you will get my point, eventually."

Pitch got up from the bed, book under his arm.

"Thank you," he whispered before stepping back into a large shadow. "I could never have regained my strength without your help."

Then he was gone, and do were the shadows with him. The to was bright and happy again.

Jack took the sheets and rolled himself up in a protective ball. He had actually opened his heart up to someone for the first time. The fear made him tremble. 'Too much' Pitch had said. Yes, this was defiantly too much.

The door opened up and North looked inside.

"Boyfriend all gone?" he asked. "He feel better now?"

Jack moaned

Chapter Text

Jack stood in his palace looking at the shattered pile of ice that once had held Nero the nightmare.

It had taken him a two days in the bright Warren with, a now normal sized, Bunny to make him feel somewhat like himself again.

What really hade made him leave, though, was the strangely personal relationship Bunny had started to have with the Easter-elf. Jack wasn't sure if he was confused, embarrassed, or just jealous.

He understood what Pitch had done to him, the point so to speak.

Just as Jack had been scared that the light-Pitch was not the real Pitch, and that the spirit was going to forget him as soon as he got dark again, Pitch had been worried that the fearless-Jack wasn't being his real self.

"It's a strange thing, Mr. Nibs," Jack told the penguin at his side.

The large bird squawked in agreement.

Jack looked up as Sandy descended next to him. Mr. Nibs tilted his head, looking at the glowing sand.

"Do you have it?" asked Jack.

Sandy nodded and held forward one of the red Christmas sacks, it was full close to the brim with black dream sand.

"Is this all of it? All the bad dreams the children made by themselves?"

Sandy nodded again. Signs of concern, warning fingers, images of Pitch, and a whole lot of warnings flashed through the sand over the dreamlord's head.

"I'll be careful," Jack smiled over his friend's concern. "And I'll see to it that he doesn't overdo it."

Sandy gave him a stern look, that quickly broke into a smile. A image of two men holding hands formed over his head.

"He is not my boyfriend!" huffed Jack.

The sand changed to one man, strangely looking like Pitch, with shiny lines coming out of him.

"You think he looks like a boyfriend," sighed Jack. "Have you been drinking spiked eggnog with North again?"

Sandy just grinned, waived, and floated off. Jack made a teasing face after him. He sighed as he noticed that Mr. Nibs had fallen asleep, probably from picking at the dreamsand.

Jack shook his head, and walked over to very deep and very dark shadow in a corner that wasn't supposed to have shadows at all. He had noticed when he first arrived. It was an open invitation, a question.

With an resolved breath he stepped inside the shadow, clinging on to his staff and the sack of Darkness.