Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jack shivered from the cold, the young one hunched in on himself, hugging his knees tighter, teeth clattering in his mouth, as he fought to starve off the relentless cold. Alas, the shitty, thin blanket, which he had snatched for himself provided little to no comfort and so, a full-body shiver was forced on him. Glaring, despite his best efforts to ignore it, his gaze glided to the corpse in the corner. Too young, Jack thought, as he took in their blue, frozen, too still and haven been so for hours, features. Way too fucking young.

There had been five of them in the small, crammed cage, the four remaining soon to be sold servants – or whatever it was that their holder had called them – huddled closely together for warmth.

He did not dare to fall asleep. None of them did.

To his left, Jack felt another of the unfortunate souls trapped within the cage let out a low, defeated sigh, the breath cold and stuttering, as it ghosted over his ear.

Soon, the sun would rise. Soon, they would watch its bright, warm rays crawl out over the frozen grounds around them, the warmth quick, as it would seep into the fixed soil below and hopefully their tired bones as well.

Still, that moment was yet hours away and as the still fifth in the corner clearly showed, it could not come quickly enough.

--

The hand in his hair was rough, the fingers tight, as the announcer roughly yanked his head up for the meager crowd to get a look at his snarling face.

‘’Get off me you prick!’’ Jack hissed lowly, just as a swift jab to the back of his knees made them buckle. They were bruised already, the rope cutting into his wrists rough as well, but the harsh texture of the wooden stage below, certainly did not help one bit.

Idly, he registered as the iron grip in his hair turned his head this way and that.

‘’As you can see, this one has spirit.’’ The finely clad announcer boomed loud enough that Jack heard a few of the buttons of his strained vest groan in protest, to which a few, sparse grunts of acknowledgements rang out. This was far from Jacks first time up here though, and he had quickly outgrown his fear of the piercing stares.

‘’I will bite your fucking elbows out you son of a whore!’’

As long as he picked up a fuzz and kept shouting profanities, then he would not be sold. He knew that and he very well intended to keep it that way. The entrapment was bad, yes, but the possibility of a future in a masters or mistress house around these lands? No, that would be a far worse fate than the coldness of the cage.

Softly, just low enough that only Jack heard it, the announcer sighed and cursed under his breath. ‘’And with the proper training, we do believe that he can become a quite fine addiction to your household, field, garden, or wherever you might be in need of services.’’

‘’So help me, I will-‘’

Jacks words were abruptly cut off, the air caught and trapped in his throat, as the end of the announcers cane connected with his teeth. Fuck that hurt. At least, his teeth still felt intact. Oh boy.

Above him, the announcer took a deep, steadying breath, as he seemingly fought to center himself. He was known for having a temper, but rarely did he truly let that show.

Not while on stage at least.

‘’It is no secret that this one has been with us for a while, and those of you who frequent, will have well grown used to his antics by this point. It has been a long while now; long enough in fact, that we have decided to lower his price to a quarter of what was originally offered. Please, this is a good deal indeed.’’

Oh. Oh no.

‘’By the grace of god I swear it; this is not a purchase that you will regret.’’ The announcer said and around the crowd, a few heads nodded in what seemed to be peeked interest. ‘’Take him off our hands and make yourselves a great-‘’ whatever the announcer continued to say, Jack did not know. He had stopped listening.

A quarter of the price was a good deal. Too good really.

He should probably do something right around now. Perhaps he could attempt to jerk forwards, fling the announcer off the front of the stage, and send him and his babbling mouth sprawling. It would hurt like hell, but it would be well worth it, if it meant that he got to keep the skin of his back whip-free.

Too late, he realized, as he was jerked up and brought to stagger towards the raggedy stairs at the end of the platform.

He had already been sold.

--

The blessed morning had seemed endless, the day that proceeded just as so, until the evening came and filled the chilled air with loud, booming voices, laughter and crude, angry yelling. Now, it was a quiet night, the soft, dull clopping of the horses’ hooves the only sound mingling in with the howling of the wind, as they travelled over a large patch of old, dusty land.

While Jack did indeed feel it for the moment being and haven done so for the past one and a half week, the cold had never really bothered him to begin with. No, the freezing wind was one thing, but the hearts of men had proven colder. Much colder.

Still, he thought, as he shivered lightly, just as the wagons wheel caught on a protruding rock and made the whole thing rustle – Jacks foot quick, as it shot out and halted what appeared to be a stack of apples from tumbling over, this was downright ridiculous. Therefore, while it did fill him to the brim with a nervous, restless energy, whatever horrors awaited him ahead; at least it would be warm.

Hopefully.

Ahead, the first peek of a slick, black roof came into view between the withered trees lining the path that they were on, its presence tall, foreboding, as its dark exterior contrasted starkly against the backdrop of the increasingly rising sun. Then, a hint of cobblestone spread out beneath them, the dull thuds of the horses’ hooves taking on a clear note, as they trailed closer still.

A few more meters and they would be at the gate. A few more beats, and he would forever remain trapped within this great mansions halls.

The moment came, the tall gates creaking open for them and letting them pass to then close again with a loud, solid clang.

This is it, Jack thought, as he stared up at his new, slightly upgraded cage filled with flickering light and unknown terrors.

This was his life now.

Chapter Text

Even the perfectly polished tiles felt warm compared to his cold feet, Jack not overly caring for the general interior around him however, as he was lead in through the mansions great double doors and into the embrace of the grand entrance beyond. He was after all, stuck here for life and would have lots of time to glare at it later.

If your new holder wants you that long, his mind whispered sheepishly and idly, he snorted in response. He could only hope that whoever it was that was to be his wishfully polite overseer was not as cruel of a person, as the ones in the stories that he had heard whispered of, in between blue, quivering lips.

Still, Jack felt like he was walking towards his own execution and damn well, he would face it with a straight - albeit shivering from the bitter, lingering coldness in his bones - back.

Another set of double doors closed behind him, the offered and used blanket slipping from his shoulders in one smooth motion, as the ghoulish servant that had bought and taken him away reached out to gingerly snatch it back. It did not matter though; it was warm enough in here anyway.

‘’I would advise you to kneel.’’ The other said, as he glanced expectantly towards a single, wooden door at the end. Clearly unimpressed and with more than a little defiance caught in his eyes, Jack simply stared back, his still tied hands twitching behind his back, as he attempted to hiss low in warning, though all that came out was a soft squeak of a wheeze, which eased into a cough that made his lungs and chest constrict painfully.

Fun. Amazing. The best.

Softly, the ghoulish servant sighed. ‘’It is only this once, I assure you.’’ He said, as he reached out to help the glaring other down, to which Jack jerked away and, regardless of his dismissive behavior a mere second ago, rather violently let his knees hit the floor. Confused, Jack stared down at the soft, smooth carpet, which had blocked most of the impending impact and pain that he had expected from the act.

Ah. Right. Carpets. That was a thing apparently.

Despite himself, as the ghoulish servant went over to the door that he had glanced at a brief moment ago and softly knocked thrice on it, before going back and taking his place to Jacks left, Jack found himself glancing around anxiously.

Beside him, a beautiful, heavily ornamental fireplace was lit, its warmth slightly suffocating, but not yet unpleasant and on his other, a huge bookcase stood, shielding what must have been at least a hundred books within its softly bended shelves. As for the rest, there was not a whole lot to look at, except for a big couch for at least seven people, the blanket that the ghoul had taken back and discarded, now resting over the broad back of it.

The place itself was perversely clean, the air holding a rich but faint scent, which Jack could not quite place and already at the entrance, it had hit him. Cinnamon maybe. Cinnamon and ash, with a hint of something sharp and clear. Whatever it was, it was not pleasant but not downright a bother either. A few days down the line and he would have tuned it out. If, he got to live that long that was.

As the seconds ticked by, Jack felt himself start to get tired, all fight slowly draining out of him, as he listened to the soft crackling of the fire guttering increasingly lower beside him. He had not slept in at least a day, used to being asleep during the bright hours, awake through the night instead, and truly, snatched away, and out of the repeated circle that he had been in, his body just wanted to rest.

Idly, he felt the soft carpet dig further into his bended knees, his stinging eyes shifting to glance up at the ghoul beside him, as they waited. He had just been about to open his mouth and ask how long it would be yet, when the door at the end finally opened, and at once, Jack felt his body flood with renewed adrenaline.

The moment of truth was here and hopefully, whatever shape or form his death took, it would be swift and merciful.

His master, it would seem, was dressed entirely in black, the tall, imposing figure gliding closer still in long, elegant strides. Black embroidery with hints of a single, gleaming, golden thread woven in, decorated the fronts of his dark, heavy, flowing robe, snaked up over his collarbones and finally, around his craned neck as well. It was elegant and simple; not at all what Jack himself would have chosen to wear – not that he ever could afford such expensive fabrics regardless, especially not now that his freedom had been him stolen, but still. A guy could dream, could he not? As for the others features…

Now that was a strange sight to behold.

Thin, pale skin that bordered on grey stretched itself smoothly out over a slim face, the high cheekbones seeming impossibly defined and shallow, in the dimmed light of the room that he had been lead into. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, perhaps it was from the exhaustion still raging through Jack, but he would almost say that the black-haired other looked inhuman.

Of course, that was a ridiculous thought and lightly, he scolded himself for giving in and even entertaining such childish and minimizing thoughts. Of course, this frightening image of a tall, stoic man was human. The strangeness of what he was seeing most likely just had to do with his own paranoia over the event as a whole, the lack of windows and most importantly, the tricks of the dancing shadows, that, quite honestly, and again, he was tired that just had to be it, seemed alive and with a mind of their own.

Of course they could not be, Jack mused, as he watched them pool and lick almost lovingly up against his new holders boots.

Of course not, that would be ridiculous.

One thing was for certain though, the other looked quite… How could he put it politely…?

Snobbish, Jacks mind helpfully provided, as he sneered in a tired defiance and glared up into the others narrowed eyes; Jack noting the hints of gold and cold silver crammed tightly around the others pupils, as his new master tilted his head in a confused and slightly irked manner.

A silver and golden gaze. What was next, would he find the other to sport a tail or perhaps a few sharp claws on the tips of his slim fingers?

Absurd. That was what this entire affair was.

As though reading his train of thought, the master of the house turned his head towards the ghoulish servant and hummed a low, thoughtful, but clearly angered tone. ‘’I send you out to fetch a barrel of apples and fresh meats.’’ He said on a voice smooth and cold, which left no room for excuses - the edges dripping with something sharp and lethal, as his gaze likewise took on a cool notion. ‘’And, instead you drag a half-dead boy home with you?’’

Yep, he was so dead. Hopefully, they would just grind him into stew and eat him whole, before any of the beatings could start.

‘’He was cheaper than the apples sir, and the market was fresh out of meat.’’ The ghoul replied and truly, if anything, Jack would say that the arch of the masters hairless brow seemed surprised.

‘’And so, you would go against my orders because of what exactly?’’

A small, stiff jerk of the ghoulish servant’s shoulders followed in response and Jack thought that it might have been an attempt at a shrug. Alas, the gesture came off weird and unnatural on such a disciplined man. ‘’A temporary lapse in judgement sir. It will not happen again.’’

In front of him, Jacks new holder let out a low sigh, before he unclasped his hands from behind his back and slowly started to pace on the thick rug. As had been the case when he had first stalked into the lowly lit room, the shadows seemed to follow in his wake and idly, Jack squeezed his eyes shut, blinking several times upon opening, in an attempt to clear the strange vision from them.

It did not work.

‘’Cheaper than apples.’’ The master of the house grumbled on a sour, disapproving tone. ‘’What are you good for then boy?’’ He asked, the last word spat out as though it was a cuss, and once more, Jack felt the full weight of the others heavy, indifferent stare settle onto him.

‘’I-‘’ Jack started, his voice scratchy and weak, before it was abruptly cut off by the rude, insistent presence of a dry cough. ‘’I-‘’ He tried again on a rasp, though he had no better luck this time.

Way to go Jack, the small voice in the back of his head clipped in an irked fashion, as he preceded to cough and heave down shallow, ragged breaths in between the painful spaces of them. Not even two minutes in and we are already showing weakness.

In all fairness, he was quite amazed that it had taken the cage and the bitter cold this long to break his health, but alas, throughout the last three nights before his untimely departure, it had started to go downhill quite fast. It was as inconvenient as it was annoying.

‘’Sir, if I may.’’ The ghoulish servant softly spoke up again, when it became clear that Jack quite obviously could do nothing more but continue to dryly cough. ‘’It seems that the young one is too exhausted for this conversation.’’ He pointed out, to which the master of the house grumbled something incoherent under his breath. ‘’At least for this current, present time being.’’

‘’And whose fault is that?’’ The other snapped harshly on a near grit out bark.

The announcer, Jack thought bitterly in response as he coughed into the rich fibers of the carpet, though he knew better than to voice the thought aloud. The fucking handlers that had wrestled him out of bed, separated him from his sister and burned down his family’s house in the beginning of this cruel, late winter.

‘’Mine sir.’’ The ghoul said instead, to which the master of the house hummed in a mock of a gentle acknowledgement.

‘’How much did you spend on this?’’ He asked, as he gestured a single, pale, delicate hand out towards Jacks kneeling, trembling form.

Holy shit, he actually did have claws, he had meant that as a joke.

The servant was about to answer, mouth already forming around the words, when Jack managed to regain a bit of breath and beat him to it.

‘’I am good with horses.’’ Jack quickly said, as his mind frantically scrambled about to find something to offer up. While he was not about to let someone beat and jerk him around as some cheap, lifeless ragdoll, he was not about to give them a reason to behead him on the spot for being useless either, and at once, that golden and silvery gaze once more settled onto him. ‘’Like really good if I have to say so myself. And I know how to,’’ he said, before having to stop for a single, inconvenient cough ‘’make a bed pretty decently. Don’t put me in the kitchen though, I would probably burn your house down by accident, but I can wash the floors if you are…’’ He rambled, the words dying out on his tongue, as before him, the corners of his holders’ lips jerked in what was unmistakably a thoroughly entertained, but indignant grin.

Yep, dead, he was dead – Dead Jack walking!

‘’In need.’’ He finished regardless, just as the others grin cracked up into a wide, cold, too sharp wolfs grin that made the hairs on the back of Jacks neck stand on end. He did not feel as though such an angry grimace should be enough to cause such deep, primal fear in him, but regardless, it did.

‘’Have you been addressed?’’ The master of the house clipped on a dry note, to which Jack grit his teeth and clenched his jaw, his gulp loud in the tense, too stiff air, as he swallowed thickly. Still, he refused to be intimidated. Whatever fear still lingered just under his skin, weirded out as that fact made him, he somehow understood that it was not his own, and as he spoke on an even and barely subdued voice, the notion gave him a small resemblance of pride back.

‘’Pretty fucking sure you asked me a question yeah.’’

Beside him, the ghoulish servant went rigid, eyes widening for a beat, as they snapped to his masters own in shock. Still, those golden and silvery orbs kept directed onto Jacks, the shadows seemingly flickering in response to the silent anger still present within their sharp gleam.

A beat passed in tense silence. Then another, and finally, the master of the house sighed lowly to himself.

‘’Do you have a name?’’ He asked, to which the other stayed silent, Jack putting as much of his fleeting courage into his glare, as he refused to back down. He swiftly realized that it was a losing battle however. Clearly, his holder possessed a far greater patience than the announcer ever had.

‘’Jack Overland.’’ He finally said, to which his holder curtly nodded.

‘’You seem to be missing a word there boy.’’ The master of the house said, one hairless brow once more arching, as he stared down at him expectantly.

‘’Jack Overland. Sir.’’ Jack repeated, as he let the last word drag out on a drawl. In front of him, the master of the house nodded again.

‘’Good.’’ He rasped on a voice that somehow sounded both sarcastic and yet sincere. ‘’We are making progress already.’’

As his holder smirked down at him in a knowing manner, Jack let his gaze drop and bit the tip of his tongue.

‘’You understand your predicament yes?’’ The master of the house asked, to which Jack gave a jerky little nod in response.

He did. He fully understood that he would either die right here on this shitty, expensive rug or be worked to death in or around the mansion instead. Preferably, he would choose the former, but neither were options that he wanted to chase.

Another little beat passed in silence then, the skin of his knees starting to itch uncomfortably, before finally, and still much to his surprise, his master nodded in what Jack could only deem to be satisfaction.

‘’Cut him free then.’’

Jack felt his brow furrow in a short beat of confusion, before he understood the notion of what that meant. But, of course, a servant needed his hands to work, right? And so, Jack felt both relief and a deep sense of grief pass through him, as he understood that his death would come in the form of the latter, much slower way.

‘’Do I at least get your name as well?’’ Jack asked as idly, he rubbed at his sore wrists, willing the blood back in them, after his binds had fallen away. In front of him, the master did nothing but stare expectantly, head tilting ever so slightly, as he narrowed his eyes. ‘’Sir.’’ He added, as though on an indifferent afterthought.

To his surprise, the first signs of a genuine smile slipped onto the others thin features, as he placed a clawed hand to the spot above his heart, eyes gleaming, as he chuckled low.

‘’You are going to be quite the challenge, are you not?’’ He laughed, before shaking his head in what could almost be seen as fond bewilderment. Then, as swiftly as the shift in mood had crept in, it vanished, and once more, Jack was left to stare up into a cold and indifferent golden gaze. Slowly, the master of the house lowered his clawed hand and gestured out at the dimly lit walls around them. ‘’We have few rules here, but I expect you to follow them tightly. If not-‘’ his holder said on a small sing-song note, before letting his slim, delicate fingers, one by one, curl slowly into a loose fist at shoulder height. ‘’Who knows what might happen.’’

‘’Sounds fun.’’ Jack huffed a tad breathlessly - fighting to subdue another coughing fit, before he managed to get back on his feet without tumbling over. When no one ordered him back down, he braved himself a small step forwards, Jack daring another, when he was not halted. ‘’And I still want to know your name sir.’’ He said, as he held out his right hand for the other to shake.

The master of the house blinked twice, brow furrowed, as he stared down at the offered limb, before his golden eyes snapped up to search Jacks face for the explanation to whatever the meaning behind the obvious joke was. A beat passed, and then Jack shook his outstretched hand a bit for emphasis.

‘’Is this not how you properly introduce yourself around here?’’ Jack asked. ‘’Sir.’’ He swiftly added. Beside him, the ghoulish servant looked as though he might just about faint, if Jack did not hold his tongue within the minute.

Again, the small cracks of a smile seemed to attempt to tug at his masters’ lip, though this time, the gleeful gesture was swiftly smothered by a scoff.

‘’There is such a thing as differences between classes.’’ He started, as he nevertheless trailed the small step closer and was brought within distance to shake Jacks hand, if he so desired to deem the gesture worthy. ‘’And you would do well to remember that you are in no position to lecture me on such.’’

‘’Maybe not.’’ Jack said on a shrug, as he willed himself to keep his hand up and firmly at the ready in between them. ‘’But I would still like to know it. Sir.’’

A tense staring match followed, the ghoul looking from one tense master to Jack and back again, his shoulders squared, as though he expected the former to lash out and take the newcomers eyes out in the process, for stepping far out of line.

‘’I suppose you are in your right to know it then.’’ The master of the house hummed, as this time, he did nothing to stiff the smile that spread over his features. It was not a happy smile however, nor was it welcoming in any sense, shape or form.

Jack had expected the others grip to be cold and slack, but as the clawed hand closed around his, he found the grip to be surprisingly strong and firm – the touch near burning, as he felt the sharp pinpoints carefully press close but not enough to break or scratch his own, chilled skin.

‘’You may call me Pitch.’’

Chapter Text

Jack startled when a soft but insistent knocking sounded at the door - Jack flinging the thick blanket that he had been given off of himself, before sitting up in a rush. Confused, he rubbed a bit of the crust from his eye, his bones and muscles feeling cold, stiff and weary, before he coughed rather vigorously and stared up and over at the still closed door before him.

‘’What?’’ Jack asked on a gruff voice still heavy from the sleep he had just been ripped from, as he fought to subdue the yawn that tried to press itself out between his coughs, his fingers tense and still cold, as he raked them through his disheveled hair.

Open, the door glided, with the subtlest of hints towards rust in the hinges, before the familiar face of the ghoulish servant that Jack had come to know as Monty, poked his head into the room. If he was surprised to see that Jack had chosen to curl up on the floor next to the bed, instead of on top of it, he made no comment about it.

‘’Breakfast is in half an hour.’’ Monty, clearly not a morning person, said with an air of finality coating the edges, as he fully entered and lowered the stack of folded clothes that he had been carrying onto said unused bed. ‘’I believe these should fit you, but if anything is too tight or too loose, do not hesitate to say so.’’ He said, as he placed his right palm on top of the pile and pressed down slightly for emphasis. ‘’You have ten minutes to get dressed.’’

‘’M’kay.’’ Jack grumbled, as he stretched out his sore frame, the last cough that now stubbornly refused to press out, making its presence known in his chest regardless, as he, while using the wall for support, slowly started to rise. ‘’What do we prepare for him exactly?’’ He asked, as he fished the first item up from the pile and held it up in front of himself. A single, light grey undershirt, it showed out to be, and next up, underneath it, lay a pristinely white shirt with long, slightly wider at the bottom, sleeves.

‘’The master already ate.’’ The ghoul replied on a light snap, just as Jack ignored the undershirt and instead tugged on the sleeved shirt alone. He burned easily, and this place was far from cold as it already was. ‘’It is your breakfast I am escorting you to. Not his.’’

Jacks hand paused where it had come to rest on the dark grey vest with simple, but still intricate, silvery embroidery that he had just been about to pick up and pull on. This was ridiculously rich garments for a servant. That Monty, albeit the embroidery on his vest being golden and not silvery like the one that Jack had been given, would be wearing any of the like, he could understand, but why him?

It seemed off. It seemed fake. A cruel joke just waiting to be revealed and as per usual, whatever the punchline would be, Jack would most likely be the butt of it.

The ghouls soft click of the tongue brought Jack out of his musings, said ghoul tapping the vest that the other had hesitated to pick up thrice for emphasis.

‘’Seven minutes ‘till we leave.’’

--

‘’Claude is already out in the fields and working, but it’s no bother to interrupt him.’’ The butch servant that Jack had just been introduced to said around her mouthful of honeyed bread, as she extended the remains of the loaf towards Monty who took it with a slight nod. ‘’He rises before the sun does.’’ She hummed on a slight shrug, just as the ghoul broke the bread and offered half of it to Jack, who still remained highly skeptical of the whole affair, as he nevertheless reluctantly accepted it. ‘’Never misses a beat really; First rays shines over the horizon and boom,’’ she said, her free hand flicking towards the ceiling for emphasis, as she shook her head in slight bewilderment. ‘’he is up. It’s like freaking clockwork.’’

Beside Jack, Monty lightly scoffed. ‘’Language Cupcake.’’ He said, to which the other barked a crude, short laugh.

‘’Why though, master is far outta hearing shot anyway and it’s not as if this ice cycle here,’’ here, Cupcake gestured at all of Jacks general form and especially his stark white hair ‘’is not going to figure out how things work around here eventually.’’

‘’And still, it would be preferred for him to ease into this with a bit of exampled respect firsthand.’’

‘’If you say so.’’

‘’I do.’’

The two fell silent for a few beats, their shared gaze holding far more emotion and history than Jack could currently understand, or even bother to attempt to decipher. Then, after the quiet had just started to stretch into a tense, awkward territory, Cupcake relented and looked away with a low huff, before once more raising her bread to her mouth to take a huge chunk out of it.

‘’Yeah whatever.’’ She grumbled under her breath, as she munched on it. ‘’Regardless, how are we doing on our supplies of white teas? Tooth should be coming around at some point and I guess we kinda need to be prepared and all, considering… You know. Last time.’’ She said vaguely, to which the ghoul laughed a low, gritting, highly unnatural laugh, before he answered with a number that was seemingly far lower than the now pouting Cupcake was comfortable with. From there, the conversation descended into a heated debate about the higher luxuries of fine wines and whether or not serving cheap tea to a spoiled guest could be considered treason or a cause for punishment or not.

Cupcake seemed to believe that it should be overlooked, while Monty seemed to disagree on the prospect as a whole rather fiercely. Either way, whatever further arguments were raised on the formers behalf, Jack had stopped paying attention. Not that it was not an entertaining conversation, but he had enough on his palette already to indulge in the more casual aspects of whatever weird - and or seemingly mundane by their standards - events, which had taken place under the mansions roof, over the past decade or two.

With a slight shake of the head, Jack turned his head to stare out of the open window beside him and out into what appeared to be a grand garden, which stretched out quite far behind it. So far, it seemed to him a near impossibility that he would ever be able to find his way around - the layouts of the grounds seeming eternal, as he, even within the short time that he had been here, kept finding new, stupidly expensive assets to the place. Later however, after their breakfast had ended, he had been promised a tour and hopefully, he would be able to get a general feel for the place.

Until then, he would probably get himself lost time and time again.

Out in the garden, a flickering of dark-brown feathers caught his eye, the rapid beat of a birds’ wing setting in motion, as it left a withered branch behind. Upwards the small critter soared, up and away, and quickly, it was out of view and so, with another little shake of the head, Jack willed himself to focus back onto what was currently happening around him.

‘’-I mean, it’s not like we got any pearls lying around here to just use on it and besides, it looks better with simple threat, don’t you think?’’ Cupcake asked, as she gestured at Montys vest. A tad stiffly, the ghoul attempted to shrug.

‘’I suppose so, but it would save us quite a lot of time to make use of different materials.’’ Monty countered, to which Cupcake scoffed in an indignant fashion.

‘’They’d get stuck on just about anything and everything Mon. It would be hell.’’

‘’But it would look good.’’

‘’And it’s a stupid idea you buffoon!’’ Cupcake clipped and truly, Jack had no actual clue as to what they were talking about and so, it was with a bit of relief caught in his chest that he obediently went after the ghoul, as said ghoul shook his head at Cupcake and waved for Jack to follow with.

--

‘’So, how do you guys do around here?’’ Jack asked, after Cupcake, much to the disapproval of the stern ghoul, had seemingly decided to join and take over the tour, as the two still, loudly bickering servants guided the newcomer along. Softly, she wagged a finger at him.

‘’How do we do it around here.’’ She gently corrected him. ‘’For better or worse, you're a part of this household now.’’ Cupcake said, as she held a small side-door open for him. Swiftly, he ducked out through it, Jack delighted to feel actual wind against his neck and face again, as they walked out over the wide courtyard, further down a beaten, dirt path and then finally out towards what Cupcake had unmistakably referred to as ‘the fields’.

As for the mansion that they had just left behind… The place truly was massive, bigger than he had thought possible and already, he had forgotten more than half of its layout.

Soon, the sound of an axe meeting wood caught his ear, the source obvious, as they got close enough for Jack to spot the huge man swinging said steel down with expert ease. Beside Jack, Cupcake raised a hand to wave at the other and, as the man noticed the small trio approaching ever closer, he stopped mid-swing to instead put the axe down and excitedly wave back in greeting.

‘’Jack, this is Claude, our early bird.’’ Cupcake said, as they got close enough for her to gesture towards the broad guy, who had completely paused his work to instead lean his elbow against the handle of the now resting axe. ‘’Claude, this is Jack, our new stable boy.’’

Beside Claude, pilling ever higher still as the man bend to pick up and then place another cleaved log onto it, a rather large pile of stacked wood stood.

‘’A new groom huh?’’ Claude said on a gruff, barely out of breath voice, as he threw Jack a reassuring smile, his hand slightly damp from his hard labor, as he wiped once at his forehead. ‘’Gods knows we need it.’’ He said on a slight laugh, as he stepped around the chopping log, the man wiping his hand off in the thick jacket that he had wrapped around his waist, before he held his palm out for the other to take. Jack paused for a beat, the fact that the other was missing two fingers obvious, before he shook himself out of his stupor and stepped forwards as well to shake the waiting hand in proper greeting.

Behind Jack, Cupcake snorted.

‘’Don’t be so formal, a stable boy is a stable boy no matter what fancy name you put on it.’’ She said, to which Claude threw up his hands in reconciliation.

‘’It is literally the same thing.’’ He countered, just as Monty sighed low and pinched the bridge of his nose in obvious frustration. Seemingly, this was not the first nor probably the last time that he had seen the two act like this.

‘’No it’s not!’’ Cupcake continued on regardless of Claude’s soft chuckles or the ghouls withering glare. Clearly, the latter was running low on patience and had seemingly been so since the first minute that he had woken up Jack.

‘’Is too!’’ Claude laughed, just as the first signs of an exhausted sneer started to bloom over Montys features.

‘’Is not!’’

‘’It is!’’

‘’No it’s not you soggy-‘’

‘’Both of you.’’ Monty started, his voice low and gritty, though loud enough to get the attention of both bickering servants, who stopped and turned their heads to stare at him. ‘’Are insufferable.’’ He said, to which Cupcake, seemingly completely nonplussed, huffed an elated breath of air.

‘’And you love it, don’t you Mon?’’ She joked, the servant shaking her head fondly, as she made to shove past the frowning ghoul, her hand raising slightly in the process, as she waved at Jack in order to get him to follow.

‘’Uhm.’’ Jack said a tad confused, getting even more so, as Cupcake turned slightly to crack a delighted smile back at him.

‘’It’s not the same.’’ She said as she pointed a crude finger in the general direction of Claudes chest, to which the other once more threw his hands up in a mock show of surrender, before bending sideways, to pick up his axe again. ‘’And we,’’ here, Cupcake turned fully to Jack again and gestured for both the ghoul and him to follow, which the former had already started to do, the second before she had done so. ‘’are gonna go to the stables next.’’

--

The walk to the stables had been short, but it had provided him with quite a lot of information. As it was, since the harsh, cold grip of winter was fast approaching, he would be put to work within the warmer halls of the mansion itself. Then, come spring and the warmth of summer, he would join two others that would arrive and work in and around the mansions plains through those warmer season as well.

Honestly? That sounded great – A tad boring perhaps, but it beat the horrifying tales that he had been told any day. And that was just it, was it not? So far, this was not what he had expected, not even close.

He had been sheltered in a room of his own, he had been clothed and fed, and, imagine that; he would actually have days off every now and then. It was strange. Let alone the fact that anyone had yet to get physically violent with him, it was all just so weird.

It still felt fake, but maybe, just maybe, under the rule of the strange, golden eyed and pale-skinned master of the house, this really was something that he would at least get to live through.

--

‘’What am I expected to do exactly?’’ Jack asked, as he lightly stabbed the heel of his too-big shoe against the smooth marble of the floors that spread out ridiculously far before him. He had been told that he would be given shoes, but it would be a little while until a proper pair could be fetched for him and until then, as he had quickly argued, the two-sizes-too-large-for-him ones, were more than enough.

‘’Have fun.’’ Cupcake said with a genuine smile, as she raised her hands slightly out by her sides in a small jerk of a shrug. ‘’Best way to find your way around is to keep exploring until you’ve got it memorized.’’ She said, as she gestured at the rag clutched tightly in Jacks hand that she had just handed him. ‘’And besides, you’re new. No one expects you to do much more for the first week than just run around and find your own pace by yourself.’’

Really now, that sounded fake.

‘’And what,’’ Jack started on a voice that held a tad more suspicion than he had wanted it to. ‘’I won’t get whipped for that?’’ He asked, to which the other seemed to give pause, her eyes narrowing, as she tilted her head slightly.

‘’Look, don’t get me wrong, we are all expected to do our parts, but no one is gonna beat you for being slow.’’ Cupcake said, as she placed her hands on her hips, lips perched, as she hummed a small, contemplating tune. ‘’Our master can be rough, especially when he’s running late on some ordeal or stuck up business of his, but he’s not violent.’’

For a few beats, the two merely stared at each other, Jacks shoulders tense, as he fought to subdue another set of coughs that threatened to wreak havoc on his chest again, before finally, Cupcake sighed in what was clearly a mix of both frustration and heavy understanding.

‘’Look, I get it, I really do. I was the exact same when I came here, but it’s not as bad as you think.’’ She started, her voice lowering slightly, as though she was about to indulge him in a great secret. ‘’I’m running on my twelfth year here and I haven’t received as much as a slap for snapping back at him, or any of the others for that matter. It’s just that one earl that’s-’’ she tried, the servants shoulders and upper back stiffening sharply, before she cut herself short with a sharp intake of breath, eyes widening for all of a beat, before whatever unpleasant memory that had passed through the forefronts of her mind, fled. A beat passed and then once more, she had managed to school her features back into what appeared to be her usually cheeky appearance.

Whatever that had been about, Jack was not about to pry. Not yet at least.

‘’No but really,’’ Cupcake continued on, as she shrugged. ‘’It’s not something that you need to be afraid of, this place is not all bad.’’ She concluded and though she sounded sincere enough, Jack had not forgotten the look in his holders eye, as he had first been introduced – the others tone stark and crystal clear, as he had received what was probably going to be his first instruction out of countless others.

‘’We have few rules here, but I expect you to follow them tightly. If not - who knows what might happen.’’

It did not add up.

‘’You don’t always have to lay hand on someone to be violent.’’ Jack countered on a dry note, to which Cupcake rubbed the meat of her palm against the bridge of her nose, her other hand waving dismissively at him, as she gruffed something too low for him to hear.

‘’If you’re not back by dinner, I’ll send out a rescue party.’’ She said in what was clearly an attempt to redirect the subject, to which Jack, rather rudely, snorted. ‘’Scream if you get lost.’’ She clipped, as she let her hand fall down by her side again.

‘’Sure whatever.’’ Jack said on a grin, which did not quite manage to reach his eye. ‘’See you around and all that.’’

‘’Yep.’’ Cupcake said, as she handed over the bucket of soaped up lukewarm water, the servant rolling her eyes lightly, before she turned on her heel and started down the hall from which they had come.

‘’Yep.’’ Jack lamely parroted under his breath, as he watched her go. ‘’Great.’’ He grumbled on, as he then glared down at the gently moving water within the metal bucket, his scowl deepening, as though it had somehow personally offended him.

Bucket, rag, dusty edges that needed to not be dusty.

Fun times indeed, but it could be a lot worse right?

Right.

‘’Oh and Jack.’’ Cupcake said loudly after she had just managed to cross a bit more than half of the distance to an open arch at the end of the hallway, and with a questioning hum, he lifted his head back up to look at her as well. Softly, Jack more saw than heard, as Cupcake sighed. ‘’Look, we’ve got one more servant here, but she mostly does her own thing.’’ She called back, as she gestured out around them. ‘’I’m not sure if you’ll meet her today at all, but you will eventually and just… Be kind to her if you run into her okay? She’s kinda her own thing.’’

A tad stiffly, Jack nodded.

‘’I will!’’ He called back with a nod for emphasis, after he had cleared his throat enough to do so.

--

Fun, she had said, yet this was anything but.

Jacks fingers had long since swelled up from the now cold water, the tips of his fingers all wrinkly and weird, the skin of his knuckles itchy, as whatever soap he used to clean over the marble and wood edges with, dried it out.

As for the edges themselves that he had been put to clean, he had quickly spotted a theme.

Everything, from the sturdy wood to the hard, cold marble and the thick, rich carpets that gently hugged his bare feet – Jack haven discarded his shoes a couple of hallways ago and then very deliberately lost sight of them as he had - seemed perfectly sculpted, polished and in perfect condition already.

The closer that he got to what he had been told was the masters personal quarters, the more it felt as if he entered into a dark, heavy dawn - the colour-scheme dull and muted and that of a dark brown and pale gold. As for the rest, the surfaces reminded him of the early rays of morning - everything sporting instead a lighter brown and a rich, dark, near molten gold as they did.

With a thoughtful hum, Jack shook his head as he walked along the hallway that he had stumbled into, Jack stopping dead in his tracks, as he came about a painted portrait and instantly, he recognized the piercing stare of his holder. It was spot on really, the colours chosen with obvious care, as whatever artist had seemed able to breathe life into the very strokes of the paint itself.

It was as beautiful as it was… Vain. That was the word that could be used when someone used thousands upon thousands to get themselves immortalized like this right?

Whatever the price of this had been, Jack thought, as he let a finger glide over the golden frame of it, the rag soon to follow in its wake, as he cleaned off the light coating of dust, it could probably had kept his scattered family fed for at least a month or more.

Probably more.

Next to the painting however, another hung that he did not recognize and before he could think better of it, Jack had raised a hand up, his fingers wrinkled but dry, as he reached out to trace over the rough texture of the neatly framed portrait. Of course, it was not so, but he felt as though he could almost feel warmth coming from it, as he traced down over the delicate details of the presented image of the little lady’s lace-gloved hands. Whoever this little girl was, her painting had been well preserved - cherished even, but then why, Jack thought as he sucked on his teeth, had it been tucked away like this? Wherever this spot in the mansion was, even though he was horribly lost, again, he still realized that this was a less frequented part.

As for the depicted individual herself, it showed that of a young girl that, if he had to guess, he would estimate to be around the age of eight. She had the same pale skin that bordered on grey, her eyes golden and silvery, hair black as the deepest night and really, she looked so similar to-

‘’You realize that you do not have to be that thorough in your cleaning, yes?’’

Jack flinched and stood back from the painting as though burned, as an unfamiliar voice spoke up slightly beside and behind him and, as his gaze snapped towards the voice of origin, he found a young girl to be casually leaning against the wall.

Celeste's tits, he had not even heard her approach.

‘’Calm down love,’’ the other said, her short brown hair dancing against her thin shoulders, as she gently laughed at his stricken expression and following set of tense, surprised coughs. ‘’you’re not in trouble.’’ She said, as she tapped her index finger to her lips. ‘’I won’t tell.’’

A tad reluctantly, Jack willed the short burst of fright down, clearing his throat a tad awkwardly, before bending to let the rag come to rest against the edge of the bucket and then taking a few steps in her direction.

‘’Who are you?’’ She asked, as he came close enough to shake her hand, which she did.

‘’Jack.’’ He said, to which the servant nodded once in acknowledgement.

‘’I’m Pippa.’’ She said with a smile that was radiant enough to nearly chase out the lingering cold in his veins, though really, annoyingly, it stubbornly persisted. ‘’Maybe this is a bit up front all things considered, but would you mind if I call you Frost instead?’’ Pippa said, as she nodded at his stark white hair for emphasis. ‘’Long story and all that, but I kinda knew someone else by that name and I’m not really over it yet.’’

‘’Sure.’’ Jack said on a shrug, as the fingers of his left hand absently started to fiddle with the edge of his long, now slightly stained by his light labor, sleeve. It was not the first time that he had gotten that specific nickname anyway and all things considered, it suited him.

In front of him, Pippa once more nodded in what was obvious relief, her thin shoulders relaxing a tad and immediately, though he did not know the deeper details, he felt glad that she had asked the small favor.

‘’Who's this?’’ Jack asked, as he turned to the painting again and gestured up at it, to which Pippa softly sighed.

‘’It's nothing you need to worry about love. Do yourself a favor and don't talk about it.’’ She said, to which Jack frowned.

‘’But why?’’ He asked, to which he was rewarded with a slight roll of the others eyes.

‘’Because some things are better left alone Frost.’’ Pippa said, as she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head at him in a thoughtful fashion. ‘’And besides, that’s not why I’m here.’’ She said, as she started to turn, her head inclining in the other direction, as she gestured for him to follow. ‘’Dinner’s in half an hour and we were kinda hoping that you would join.’’

Jack bit at his lip in thought, nodding once, as he allowed the other to lead him away from the strange painting.

He had a feeling that there were quite a lot of secrets yet to be discovered in this strange place. No one had mentioned that Pitch had a daughter, but, if his eyes were not deceiving him, it was obvious that he did.

Perhaps, the little lady had succumbed to the harshness of the winter and burned through a lethal fever. Perhaps it had been from something else entirely, or, hopefully, she was still alive out there somewhere.

Regardless of the method however, he knew better than to ask.

For now at least.

--

‘’You got any aces?’’ Claude asked, after they had all finished eating – the used plates and silvery still strewn about the table, just as Cupcake leaned forward with a scoff and handed him the requested cards in question. ‘’Any queens?’’ He asked, and once more, Cupcakes frown deepened further yet. ''Knights?’’

‘’Oh for fucks-‘’

‘’Language.’’ Monty clipped, as he rearranged his own remaining cards. With a scoff and a sour grimace, Cupcake handed over her knights.

‘’Tens?’’ Claude asked.

With a grit out cuss, Cupcake threw two cards down onto the table in front of him. ‘’I swear you are cheating.’’ She grumbled, to which Claude just softly chuckled and wiggled his brows for effect.

‘’Twos?’’ The man said, to which Cupcake yapped a triumphant ‘hah!’, the servant doing a little happy dance in her chair, as she grinned gleefully to herself.

‘’Go fish you asshole.’’ She yapped, to which Monty pinged the bridge of his nose. Beside the ghoul, a small, silvery bell run, its chime ringing clear once and then fading, just as Monty handed his remaining cards over into Pippa’s waiting hand and got up.

Seemingly, considering how smoothly the transition went, they had done that countless of times before.

‘’Saved by the bell.’’ Cupcake hummed softly, before she turned to Pippa and gestured at the now quite increased bundle of cards carefully wedged in her grip. ‘’Pippa, your queens.’’

‘’Go fish.’’

‘’Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, for real?’’ Cupcake gruffed, as she nevertheless picked up a new card from the stack, out on the cluttered table between them.

‘’Jack.’’ Pippa said and at once, Jack, while feeling clammy and off-center, jolted awake. ‘’Your Fives.’’ She said and with a small, discontent huff, he handed her his last five. Now, with a fresh pair of four fives in hand, Pippa laughed low, her smirk wide and proud, as she gathered them all up and placed them down to join her other already collected pairs.

The game was still going, but clearly - even without the added cards from the ghouls donated stack - she had already won.

Outside, the first signs of snow started to show in the thickness of the grey, heavy clouds and as Jack dutifully shrugged and handed over the last of his threes, he felt the chill against his exposed neck - The open window in front of him necessary, since their kitchen had been filled with smoke.

As he had said, he should not have been put on kitchen duty and now, regardless of the fact that it was a small task that he had been put on to help with – the oil in the large pan catching on fire under his hands as it had and him trying to quench it with water - he was mercifully put off it for good.

‘’Go fish.’’ Jack said, after he had been asked for any aces and with a soft ‘oh’, Pippa realized that she had indeed been holding all four aces on her hand already. The cards made a small clack, as they were put down with perhaps a bit more force than was strictly needed.

‘’Any sevens?’’ Jack asked in the general direction of Cupcakes shielding hand, just as his head came to heavily rest against his free own. A huff rang out and a beat later, a single seven was thrown at him. ‘’Nines?’’ He asked, to which Cupcake blew a raspberry.

‘’Nope.’’

A brief set of coughs wrecked through Jack then, his front bending over the table to try to ease the worst of it, as he likewise made sure to keep the tips of his cards pointing inwards towards his own hurting form.

These people might be sweet in general, but they were vicious in the pursuit of victory.

‘’Are you sure you are okay?’’ Pippa asked softly beside him, her voice kept low enough that only Jack heard, as the two other remaining servants in the smoky kitchen started to bicker about whether or not Claude was in fact cheating.

‘’It’s fine.’’ Jack rasped, as he waved her off, his free hand coming up to shield his mouth, as he felt something slightly unpleasant be shaken loose in the back of his throat.

He knew that he was not though, but what was he supposed to do about it?

‘’It’s just…’’ Pippa said on a still hushed voice, just as Cupcake yelled something crude, a few cards taking flight in the process, as she flicked her fingers to the ceiling. ‘’You do look a little pale is all.’’

Jack paused, as she looked him over, her gaze briefly lingering on the sweat of his brow, as she offhandedly handed Claude her three sevens.

‘’There’s no shame in being sick, you know that right?’’ Pippa pressed, just as Jack shrugged a tad tensely and handed his last eight into the waiting hand of Claude. Softly, Jack shook his head, as he handed the man his last card as well, before throwing Pippa a small, reassuring smile, as he willed the last of his depleted energy into making it genuine.

‘’It’s fine.’’ He repeated, as he got up and started to collect the still dirty plates lingering around them.

‘’Leave em.’’ Cupcake clipped, after she too had lost her last card to Pippa instead. ‘’Runner-up gets to do the plates today.’’ She said and abruptly, Claude’s head jerked up, his triumphant smile turning slightly sour as he did so.

‘’Wait no, that’s not fair.’’

‘’It fucking is, you’re cheating!’’ Cupcake barked, as she got up and nevertheless helped Jack stack the last of the plates into the waiting sink behind her. Claude scoffed, his eyes narrowed in slight annoyance, as he handed Pippa two cards.

‘’Look, it’s not my fault that the window is angled how it is today.’’ The man grumbled, as he handed her three more, to which Pippa chuckled low in a knowing fashion. Clearly, she had caught onto that fact pretty much immediately.

‘’You-’’ Cupcake started, her upper back and shoulders tensing, as she spun to glare at the laughing man, who had just handed over the last of his cards to the widely grinning Pippa. ‘’Bastard.’’

‘’Now now, all is fair in love and war right?’’ Claude laughed, as he swiftly got up and fled the kitchen – a loudly roaring Cupcake hot on his heels, as he took off through the door and into the waiting hallway beyond. A delighted yell was heard, just as Claude rounded the corner at the end of the it, Cupcakes indignant cries mingling out as well, just as the fading echoes of their chase moved further and further away from the kitchen itself.

‘’Are they always like this?’’ Jack asked on a low rasp, swaying softly on his feet, as he cleared his throat and set to work on getting the first plate clean.

‘’Pretty much.’’ Pippa shrugged in response, as she picked up a clean rag and helped dry the dripping plate that Jack had just handed her. ‘’You get used to it though.’’ She added on a slightly lower tone. ‘’Just…’’ She tried, as she put the now second dry plate onto the waiting counter beside her. ‘’Bear with them if it gets too much. A lot has happened in their lives before they got here and not a whole lot of it has been a pleasant ordeal.’’

A tad stiffly, Jack nodded. While he did not completely understand why he had ended up how he did, he doubted that any of the other people here had had a more gentle ease into the whole affair either.

Most likely, none of them had chosen to become what they now were.

‘’How long have you been here?’’ Jack, while shivering slightly in the chill from the window that he was now closer to, asked, as he handed her a fork, which she nimbly dried off, before shrugging slightly.

‘’All my life pretty much. Master found me beside the gate when I was about the age of two and took me in. Before that I…’’ Pippa said before trailing off. ‘’I don’t remember. I don’t know why I am here. Why I was left like that, but it’s okay. It has to be.’’ She shrugged, her hand pausing briefly, as a shadow of some distant memory temporarily took over.

Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

‘’Take each day as they come Frost.’’ Pippa said on a voice rich with emotion. ‘’And whatever happens, don’t give up.’’

There was not a whole lot of words that he could offer in the face of that, and so, while cleaning up the last plate, he nodded once in what he hoped looked to be understanding.

--

In hindsight, it was quite eerie how quickly the symptoms of whatever the angry coughing had been all about, showed themselves. In hindsight, he should have taken it more seriously. He should have told someone about just how bad whatever it was that was festering in his chest had gotten, but alas, he had not.

Pippa and he - after a good twenty minutes had passed with still no sign of any of the other three servants coming to help them out - had just managed to clean up the remaining items in the kitchen, Jack now saying his goodnights and waving over his shoulder, as he turned to the door and made to leave.

His gaze had been blurry, in fact, it had been for most of the evening, but as he entered out into the hallway and the slight shift in light hit him, the following confusion, for some reason that he did not completely understand, had made it worse.

He had registered that Pippa had been speaking to him, Jack feeling a gentle touch on his shoulder, as he turned as though underwater and tried to focus on her features.

Idly, he watched as the others lips moved, though he had had a hard time making out the words, his brow creasing in frustration, as he tried to concentrate on it.

It did not feel as if it should be as hard as it was, but gods be damned, it was.

Jack noted the moment that the others grip became hard and insistent, his jaw going slack, as he said something incoherent, knees buckling, the second before his vision blackened out.

He would have tumbled into a heap of his own, limp limbs if not for the stern grip, that Pippa had kept on him, and while the inevitable collapse did come as a surprise to him, it really should not have.

Chapter Text

Coming back into the waking world was an uncomfortable experience to say the least, the pressure in his head near unbearable, as a sharp cough made the coldness snap anew through his lungs.

‘’He's burning up.’’ The voice of the ghoul said, and as a cool palm pressed against Jacks forehead, he tried to chase its cold relief. Jack then attempted to open his eyes, yet, abruptly, as double vision set in and left him nauseous, he tightly closed them again, a small groan escaping him, as he felt the chilly hand move down to rest against his clammy neck instead.

A beat later, Jack felt yet another hand settle onto the spot between his shoulder blades - the palm of it pressing firmly against it to try to help him sit up a bit, and, as the back of his own hand hit cool tile, Jack registered that he was in fact still lying on the floor. A tad irked by that fact, annoyed and slightly confused by it, he realized that another voice had added something, though, quite distracted by what was happening to him physically, he only managed to catch half of the sentence.

‘’-Soaked through. I’ll get Pitch and finish up here after - Claude, you take him to bed and we take it from there?’’

Cupcake. That was Cupcake’s voice.

Jack wanted to argue that he was fine, but for some reason, he could not quite get his tongue to work properly, and as he pressed for the words to come regardless, all he managed to produce was a weak, scratchy whimper of distress.

‘’We already finished up.’’ Pippa said somewhere beside him. ‘’Just go get it done.’’

As gravity shifted and Jack was lifted up from the floor, he supposed that they had agreed on it.

--

How long had it even been since he had slept in a bed of his own? A week? A month?

He had no idea.

Still, Jack thought, as he tossed and turned in the too-warm blankets of the bed that he had been put on, while it did beat the shitty rag of a sad excuse for a blanket, which had been put into the bottom of the steel cage, he doubted that he would get used to it again anytime soon. It was too soft, too exposed, as he once more turned on the bed and coughed weakly.

Beside him, the summoned doctor, that really looked as though he would rather be anywhere than where he currently was, gruffed a low contemplating tune, his hairy hands working swiftly, as they grinded up a thick, herbal paste that would help settle whatever infection lingered in the downed servant before him. With a tired breath that sounded as overworked as it was annoyed, the doctor, after one of his two long, grey and blue coloured braids had slipped down over the expanse of his broad, tattooed shoulder and thus gotten in the way, flicked a hand up to right it.

Else for the scrapping sound of the working pestle and mortar and the occasional cough coming from the writhing patient on the bed, the small room was depressingly silent.

Finally, just as the pestle stopped its repeated pattern and the doctor had eased a hand, which seemed to hold enough strength to crush Jacks head in half if the doctor so desired it, under the back of said individuals head and lifted it enough to get the needed medicine in him, Pitch sighed slow.

‘’Will he live?’’ The stern voice of Jacks holder asked, to which the corner of the summoned doctors mouth drew up into a humorless smirk, his nose twitching twice in an irked manner, as he turned to glare up into the others golden and silvery gaze.

‘’Can you pay?’’ The doctor countered, his knuckles rough and the skin of them dried out from obvious hard labor, as they bumped up his green-tinged, oval glasses a tad. His eyes narrowed and, as he tilted his head at Pitch, one of his braids once more fell down from its desired place.

Beside the doctor, the master of the house scoffed, before shaking his head in clear distaste, his gaze shifting, as it instead came to rest onto the deep crease between Jacks furrowed brows. A dry hiss of complaint rang out from Jack then, as the bitter taste of the healing herbs assaulted his senses – his throat protesting against the sting and burn of it, as he was forced to swallow it down.

Instantly, as its effects set in and eased the worst of the immediate ill that had wreaked havoc on the youngest individual in the room, Jack seemed to relax into the bed with a soft, content sigh.

‘’I asked you a question Koz.’’ The doctor yapped a tad more aggressively than the situation called for, and, regardless of the fact that none of the occupants in the room moved, the shadows jerked and swayed across the walls and floor in response – the flickering shapes much like crude hands and reaching fingers, as the master of the house chuckled low.

Finally, Pitch clasped his clawed hands behind his back, his shoulders squared yet still seeming relaxed, as he moved in a smooth glide towards the window. As he gazed up at the clear crescent shape of the moon peeking out behind a layer of heavy, grey clouds, its pale light reflected and caught on his molten gold.

‘’There is no need for violence Aster.’’ Pitch reassured with a slight mock coating the edges of his voice, as he rolled his shoulders once, before turning to meet the doctors heavy glare head on. ‘’Not all of us are as poor as the common peasant. You know that I can.’’ The master of the house said, as he stalked the small distance to the door and made to leave through it. Then, before he strode under its frame, he threw a single, wide-eyed grin over his shoulder at the now truly scowling doctor – his voice low and gritting, as he laughed at the others angered expression.

‘’Unlike you, I always pay my debts.’’

The bottom of the mortar was rough, the impact of it sending a few of the other needed medical items on the small table next to the doctor bouncing, as it was banged against its wooden surface.

On the bed in front of him, Jack flinched and spluttered a weak noise in surprise.

‘’Perhaps so Koz.’’ Bunnymund yapped low on a grit out huff of a voice, as he willed his hands not to turn into fists. Then, with a twitching nose and a slight tension in his shoulders and upper back, he turned back to his client at hand. ‘’But don’t go forgetting who you gotta answer to as well. You’re as trapped in this as the rest of us you miserable nut.’’ He practically spat, as he started preparing another mixture that would be stored away for later use. Now behind him, still paused in the door and sporting a likewise unpleasant expression, Pitch shook his head, before sending one last withering glare at the doctors bent, broad back.

‘’I do not recall asking for your gentle criticism.’’ The master of the house said, to which Bunnymund barked a short, crude laugh.

‘’There’s nothing gentle about this mate, it’s a bloody godsdamned mess.’’ The doctor said, as he with one hand tilted Jacks head back to ease his slightly labored breathing a tad and with the other, rubbed a salve of lavender and other calming herbs into the side of his swollen, reddened neck.

‘’Indeed it is.’’ Pitch agreed on a thoughtful note, as finally, he turned to take his leave – the master of the house stopping short, as Bunnymund called after him.

‘’You know,’’ the doctor started on a voice that sounded both reluctant and yet direct. ‘’we could join forces.’’ He offered, to which the other hummed low in annoyed acknowledgement.

‘’And, I am to believe that this would benefit me in any way, shape or form?’’ Pitch clipped coldly. ‘’Last I checked, you could not use your charms around him and besides, if it comes to it, you would sell me out to save yourself in a heartbeat.’’

‘’Neither can you.'' Bunnymund countered. ''And so would you.’’ He said, to which the other grinned a wide, humorless smirk in return, his teeth showing, as he turned his head to glare at the still turned away and working other.

‘’Oh yes, by the gods I would.’’ Pitch laughed, his shoulders jerking from the mirthless glee that he was emanating. ‘’Still, you must be truly desperate to even propose such a ludicrous idea.’’ He chuckled darkly, before shaking his head in slight disbelief. ‘’What?’’ He yapped. ‘’Has the little earl tired of your sad excuses already? Has he come to collect what you cannot give? Has he realized that what you hold is in fact worthless?’’

‘’Bloody hell, you’re sour today.’’ Bunnymund rasped under his breath, as he helped Jacks back and shoulders to relax, his hands working almost as if on their own, as they eased the tension out of his stiff, tired muscles. ‘’It’s an offer mate, nothing more, nothing less and it sure ain’t personal.’’

‘’Is it now?’’ Pitch hummed, as he once more turned to face the darkened corridor before him. ‘’Because from how I see it, you are looking for a way to escape the situation, which, I am not sorry to say, you won’t.’’

Whatever comment the huffing, exhausted doctor wanted to offer back in return, Pitch never heard it - the door having slammed shut by itself in a great show of flickering dark shapes and restless tendrils, before Bunnymund got the chance to even voice it aloud.

--

While he did not quite understand what the ulterior red thread of the hushed conversation taking place outside of his slightly creaked open door was, Jack unable to hear the words as he was, he still understood that they were discussing his general well-being.

‘Lungs,’ was one word that he had caught, ‘severe’ and negative on the ‘contagious’ were two others. As for what the too-fancy-sounding name that they had called his condition was, he did not quite understand it.

It was bad. It was bad but he would live.

Yay.

Outside of his room, Monty shuffled his stance slightly, the ghouls head bending once in understanding, before he circled a hand and, by the looks and tone of it, asked their holder a question. All was silent for a beat, as Pitch mused on the answer - the only noise being that of the subtle claws of a mouse in the wall, as the small critter gnawed and pawed its way through the insulation of it.

He could not blame them for moving in from the fields and into the warmer halls of the mansion itself; after all, they too just wanted to escape the cold of the coming winter.

Still, Jack had realized, as he shivered and borrowed himself deeper into the richness of the warm blankets that he had been given, the newfound servant peeking a blurry, reddened eye open again to stare out at the two debating individuals just outside of the room - he was afraid to be sold again. Or discarded entirely for that sake. He had been cheap after all and unlike the mice in the wall, hunkering up in the same fashion that they did was not an option for him.

Outside of the room, the light flickered and for the briefest of seconds, the cold, stern, molten gaze of his holder caught his icy blue own.

Strange, Jack thought, as he felt the same insistent sensation that had sent spikes of feral fear through him only the day before invade his mind once more. A chill ran down his spine then, Jack shivering slightly, before he squeezed his eyes shut and bend his head into the blankets to hide from it. He was sick. He could allow himself to be a coward and besides, nothing that he could do would change the outcome of whatever fate decided his forwarded path to be.

Then, finally, Pitch gave the answer to whatever Monty’s question had been, and, as his holder spoke, Jack swore that he heard the hushed words echo within his own head as well.

For now, let him rest.

Jack strained his ears to hear the rest of the conversation, yet, as the low tones moved and then disappeared further down the hallway, he realized that it was futile.

Rest, Jack thought, the word sending a spark of hope through him, as he turned on the bed and borrowed his cold form down deeper into it. He would not need rest if he were to be sold right away again, right?

Or, perhaps that logic was flawed. Maybe he needed rest to appear more appealing to a potential buyer. Maybe-

Rest, as in sleep and heal.

That… Fuck, was he really hearing voices too as well now? Just how sick was he? In return, the voice in his head chuckled a low, dark tune.

Sleep, the voice urged and truly, Jack did not need to be told twice. Already, outside of his window, the horizon was starting to show hints of colours, as the sun slowly rose above and brought upon the new day and, even if he had wanted to stay awake, which he did not, he would not have been able to do so in the first place.

‘’Don’t sell me.’’ Jack mumbled a tad incoherently into his blankets, the mob of his white hair damp and unruly, as he let out a slightly less labored cough than the countless others that had come before it.

I do not plan to, the voice answered and with a tired, still cough-riddled yawn, Jack felt himself smile at the notion of his own slightly crazed state of mind.

‘’Great.’’ He grumbled, as he allowed the alluring sleep to start to drag him under. A beat passed in silence, Jack nearing the brink of slumber steadily, when the voice spoke up one final time.

You are missing a word, it insisted and though Jack knew that really, he had already offered it up before and so, this time it would be no different - he could not care less for the nonsense formalities of it and so, with a slight huff, which eased into a dry cough, Jack laughed the grit out answer back.

‘’Nah.’’

Chapter Text

Jack woke with a gasp caught in his throat, his palm shaky and clammy, as he smacked a weak hand to his chest and clawed at it, as though he could somehow still the insistent discomfort, which stubbornly lingered there. The floor was cold, a sweet relief really against the fever still burning in him, as he managed to haul himself over the side of the bed and crawled to the fetcher placed just beside it.

Greedily, he chugged down the clear water within, his mouth still feeling dry, as he whimpered slightly.

He knew that the dreamlike image still chasing him close into the waking world was false, but it had sure felt the deal.

A tad shakenly, he breathed deeply, as he removed the fetchers’ cold metal from his cracked lip, said fetcher falling from his grip and then tumbling to the floor with a clang, before its contents spilled out over it, chilling his thighs and knees in the process, as he once more clutched at his hurting chest.

‘’Not real.’’ Jack rasped to himself on a voice that barely held together. ‘’You’re here.’’ He insisted to himself, as he bend his back and coughed rather harshly. ‘’You’re here,’’ he repeated ‘’this is real – that-‘’ he said, before having to cut himself short as yet another cough wrecked through him ‘’is not. Not anymore.’’

--

The thick, wool blanket kept slipping off his thin shoulders, his whole frame shaking, as he purposefully strode through the darkened halls of the quiet mansion. Everyone else must have been asleep, Jack reckoned, as he caught sight of the moon just barely peeking out over the line of the withered trees outside of one of the windows that he passed. Vaguely, he recalled being woken twice to drink and eat some of the bitter, stinging medicine that the strange doctor with the funny hair and hairy hands had forced into him, but else for that, he mused that he had slept through the entirety of the day just passed.

Still, Jack thought, as he strode over the soft, rich carpets, which seemed to line the halls endlessly - he had some questions and by the gods, he would get them answered.

The wood was hard under his knuckles, as Jack knocked thrice on the door that he, upon arrival, had originally been showed to. Jack sniffed and suppressed a cough, his hand raising again in a show of clear impatience, as he waited all of five seconds, before knocking again. Then, as he had just made to knock for the third time, it opened.

Above, two orbs of molten gold gazed down at him under a hairless, furrowed brow, a beat of silence passing, in which Jack coughed into his fist-covered blanket, before the master of the house sighed slowly, his clawed hand raising, as he gingerly placed its palm against the side of his own neck and jaw.

‘’You should be sleeping.’’ Pitch said, as he leaned a shoulder against the frame of the door, his free hand moving up as well and settling against the opposite side of it.

A tad stiffly, Jack shrugged, as he coughed.

‘’Can’t,’’ he started on a low rasp that seemed to at least gain a bit of strength towards the end of the sentence ‘’kinda keep coughing and it’s distracting and all.’’

Both were silent for a beat, the ticking of dark claws loud against the doorframe, as Pitch narrowed his eyes and looked the other over.

‘’Are you feeling any better?’’ He asked, to which Jack nodded, the servant shuffling a bit on the soft carpet, before stabbing his toe into the rich fibers of it.

‘’I-‘’ Jack started, before cutting himself short, as he paused for thought and bit at his lip.

Wanted to talk to you, rang clearly through his head, yet, it felt stale in the light of what he wanted to discuss and besides, he supposed that a more direct and immediate approach would get him a far better result than any stalling sentences could.

‘’Why am I here?’’ Jack asked instead, to which the other raised a hairless brow. Pitch had just opened his mouth to speak, when Jack beat him to it. ‘’Not just here at the mansion – my overall situation. Why am I here?’’

‘’Are you asking why you were sold in the first place?’’ Pitch asked, to which Jack nodded on a slight cough. In front of him, his holder blinked twice, before he narrowed his eyes briefly, Pitch nodding once in acknowledgement then, before stepping a bit to the side - his clawed hand lowering, after he had waved for Jack to follow him in.

‘’I thought that they would have enough tact as to at least explain the basics, but truly, you do not know?’’ The master of the house asked, as he gestured at a chair, which Jack gratefully sunk down into, the servant huddling further into his blanket, as he shook his head in response.

‘’Nope.’’ Jack said, as he drew his knees up to his chest and leaned an arm over the top of them. ‘’I got snatched and thrown in a cage. No one actually told me why it happened or what… you know, what was going to happen after that. They just said that I’d be sold off as soon as possible.’’ He said, throat convulsing in the middle of it, as he attempted to hold back a cough, which sneaked its way out on a strained, jolting hiss regardless.

Pitch hummed, eyes distant for a moment, as he seemed to take the information in, before he too sat down at the wooden desk in front of the chair that Jack had been shown to. Several books and neatly written documents littered its broad surface, and, placed just beside a rather impressive stack of them, a golden ink quill, with a sharp black feather resting comfortably on its stained edge, stood. A few candles had been lit inside the small office, and beside Jack, carved in stone, gleaming steel and embedded into the wall itself, a larger fire in the fireplace guttered merely lower still.

‘’Do you understand the debt system?’’ Pitch asked, as he shuffled a few documents around, before glancing up at the servant before him.

‘’Debt?’’ Jack repeated.

‘’So you do not.’’ The master of the house deadpanned, to which Jack softly shook his head.

Truly, he had never heard of such a thing.

Pale, delicate fingers reached out then and tugged twice on a small, silvery cord, the one of five in total, which were all lined up neatly on the wall next to the wooden desk itself.

‘’These,’’ Pitch started, as he tapped a claw to the wrinkled surface of one of the three, slightly browned around the edges, papers that he had just fetched forth from the large stack beside him ‘’are your papers. From what I am reading, your father took a loan and could not pay up and so, his flesh and blood,’’ here, he gestured at all of Jacks forlorn, coughing form ‘’was sold as compensation. It is the general way for the ones in power to reclaim their debts.’’

‘’Loan.’’ Jack repeated slowly, tasting the word, as though he did not completely understand its definition. ‘’I don’t. I don’t understand. Why would he need a loan.’’ He mumbled lowly to himself.

It was not a question and so, Pitch answered it none.

‘’I own you.’’ His holder said instead, just as a sleepy-looking Monty knocked on the door and was swiftly called in. ‘’Your contract is permanent, but your rights still stand.’’ Pitch added, as he gestured something to the ghoul, who nodded once in understanding, before abruptly turning on his heel to take his leave again.

‘’Rights?’’ Jack, feeling much like a confused parrot, asked, before he once more, rather rudely, interrupted the others attempt to answer. ‘’Wait, how the fuck is any of that fair?’’ He cried, chest and throat hurting, as he attempted to clear it from its insistent coughs.

‘’If it is fair or not, that matters not, it is simply how the law describes the way of dealing with-‘’

‘’No wait, hold the fuck up, that’s-‘’

‘’Jack.’’ Pitch said, the tone calm and collected, though clearly indicating that the other was testing his patience. ‘’If you let me speak, I can explain.’’ He concluded. A beat passed, the following quiet heavy in the small office, as Jack glared daggers up into the others molten gaze. Then, just as the master of the house sighed slow, Jack shrugged, before nodding once, as he gestured for the other to continue.

‘’Your family had debt.’’ Pitch informed him for the second time, as he tabbed the papers in front of him again for emphasis. ‘’And so, it became legal for the holders to collect what is seen as a fitting compensation.’’

‘’That doesn’t make sense to me.’’ Jack grumbled, as he moved his arm down to rest his chin on top of his knees instead. ‘’And it seems like a shit system.’’

‘’Maybe so.’’ Pitch agreed on a low hum, as he swiftly read over a paragraph or some hastily scribbled note on one of the papers. ‘’But such is our ways.’’

Jack grumbled something incoherent, his hand slightly shaky, as it reached up to once more right his blanket from where it had slipped down from his cold shoulder. Then, behind him, the familiar shape of the ghoul reappeared through the door to the office, Monty swift, as he strode in and placed the ordered mug of tea down in front of the heavily pouting servant.

‘’I hate your ways.’’ Jack grumbled, as he watched the gentle tendrils of white, translucent steam rise from it.

‘’And you are perfectly in your right to do so.’’ The master of the house informed him, as he leaned back in his chair and rested one long leg over the other. ‘’But this is the reality of your situation and you best accept it quick.’’

With a scoff, Jacks gaze once more snapped up to lock with the others golden and silvery own.

‘’Or else what?’’ He challenged - the calm of chamomile, ginger and sweet honey grazing over his tongue a stark contrast to the fear that flooded his mind, as he took the first sip of his tea. With little care, he closed his eyes and willed his mind to block it out, but alas, the small bursts of fright had already settled in, the roots deep, as they seemed to crawl through further.

‘’Who knows.’’ Pitch said in a knowing, singsong voice and by the gods if it did not irk Jack in all the wrong ways. The servant rubbed his free palm against his stinging eyelids, his mood somehow souring further, as he clutched the comfort of the warm ceramic close in both hands.

‘’You’re mean.’’ He said, to which the other all-out barked a low laugh.

‘’Am I now?’’ Pitch hummed on a clearly amused tune, as he, by the sound of it, fiddled with some of the numerous papers filling out over the surface of the table. Jack did not answer and, as he finally opened his eyes to glare back, he found that Pitch had cleared a large portion of them away.

Jack sipped at his tea in silence, as he watched the other pick up the black feather, the tip of it dipping and disappearing into the ink, before the hand that wielded it moved it out to scratch a few quick scrawls down onto the fresh paper waiting below.

‘’Have you run out of questions?’’ The master of the house asked on an absent voice, the tone bordering on dismissive, as he kept his gaze directed onto the now drying portion of neat writing in front of him and really, Jack did not need much more of a hint than that. The rug was cool and rough against the bare soles of his feet, the still half-full mug left on the desk before him, as the servant uncurled himself, tugged the blanket a bit up and turned to leave.

Somewhere in the mansion, a clock struck twice, the clear chime of it echoing down the hall and into the office itself. At least, Pitch was right on one thing – he really should be asleep.

‘’Jack.’’ His holder said behind him, causing the servant to pause in the doorway with a small groan of annoyance. As he turned, the molten gold of the others gaze stayed directed onto the papers below, Pitch’s hand quick, as it signed something, before finally letting the feather come to rest against the quill again.

‘’I have no desire to hurt you.’’ The master of the house said, before he once more looked up at the other.

‘’Sure seems like it though.’’ Jack countered, as he shrugged a trembling shoulder. In front of him, Pitchs head came to rest in his hand, before he exhaled slowly.

‘’And in time, I hope that you will come to realize that that is not my intention.’’

Jack turned his head to cough into his blanket, the frame of the door rough, as he briefly leaned on it for support. ‘’Sure.’’ He huffed with a small shake of the head. ‘’Sounds believable.’’

While he still had a few questions in store, he reckoned that they could wait. For now, he really just wanted to rest and take the time to let the newfound information sink in.

‘’Whatever.’’ Jack grumbled lowly to himself after Pitch had bid his goodnights, the door clicking shut on its own behind him with a soft click, before he started back down the way that he had practically just come.

--

The rest of the night progressed peacefully and, as the coming morning crept in and brought blessed warmth with it, Jack awoke to find that while he did indeed still feel heavy and off-center, at least his fever had fled.

--

‘’I can-‘’ Jack started, as he had to use the wall for support and tried to hobble his way past a stern-faced Claude.

‘’Don't make me lock you in.’’ The man threatened, as he pushed the other back with a broad hand – his grip quick to shoot out and tighten around Jacks arm, as the latter nearly fell over from the force of it. ‘’Or tie you down for that matter.’’

‘’But I-‘’

‘’You are just going to be in the way.’’ Claude said with an air of finality, as he stepped closer and unceremoniously swept the smaller off his feet. ‘’Look, don’t get it wrong, but we want you safe and sound and right now.’’ Claude said, as he stalked the short distance back to Jacks room and nudged the door to it open with the tip of his foot, the man careful, as he made sure not to bump the other against the frame of it. ‘’You are just deadweight.’’

Jack pouted, a deep red creeping up his neck and face, as he was physically put back in bed.

‘’I’m not deadweight.’’ He huffed in defiance, as he attempted to swat away the insistent hand that pressed him back down into the mattress. ‘’I can work just fine.’’

‘’I don’t doubt that you can.’’ Claude agreed, as the hand not busy holding the smaller in place managed to get the wool blanket back over the others coughing form. ‘’But you are sick and the rest of us got a lot of work to get done around here, since we have an important guest coming by soon.’’

‘’Oh?’’ Jack asked, as he finally gave up and allowed the other to tug him in proper.

‘’Yep.’’ Claude affirmed, as he checked on the now re-filled fetcher, a small hum of satisfaction escaping him, as he deemed it full enough. ‘’So rest up and come help out when you aren’t ready to keel over and die.’’ The man said, before he went over and drew the curtains further closed. Then, he strode to the door, his pointing finger stern, as he directed it directly at Jacks still hurting chest.

‘’Until then, stay down.’’ The man said, as he flashed Jack a lopsided grin. ‘’Pippa will bring you breakfast, but if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to holler for her.’’

‘’Isn’t the mansion a bit too big for just yelling at random though?’’ Jack asked, as he obediently borrowed further under the blankets and did his best to get comfortable.

‘’Oh, she’ll hear.’’ Claude said with an air of slight secrecy to it. ‘’She always does.’’

Before Jack could ask how exactly, Claude had said his goodbyes and waved a hand in farewell – the man letting the door stay slightly open, before taking off to get his work for the day done.

‘’Great.’’ Jack grumbled lowly to himself, as he blinked his eyes up at the ceiling and stared at it until they stung – the servant feeling both restless and sleepy, as he mused over what the night before had given him of information.

His family had had debt.

His father had taken a loan and both his sister and he had been sold in what he could really only deem to be an unfair kind of compensation.

He had rights.

He had no idea what they were, but they had been mentioned and later, once he could actually manage to stay up and take more than three steps without getting sick to his stomach, he would ask for them.

‘’Just great.’’ Jack grumbled on, as he lifted a palm to rake it down over his slightly clammy face. Still, he mused, as he turned and faced the wall instead of the slight light creeping in from under the curtains – it would be all right.

It damn well had to.

--

An entire week, in which Pippa faithfully delivered him food three times a day, came and went, before Jack started to feel as if he was getting back on track. During that time, Jack, as Claude had suggested, had tried to call for her once and to his surprise, she had shown up and peeked her head into his room about ten minutes later. Jack wondered just how far she had been and how she could have possibly heard his call, but as he had opened his mouth to ask about it, something in her slight shake of the head and the finger pressed tightly to her lip had stopped him.

‘’We aren’t supposed to talk about our core.’’ Pippa had said vaguely, as she then pointed her finger at her own chest instead and again, Jack felt as if he had been left with more questions than actual answers.

--

‘’Wait, how old are you?’’ Cupcake asked around her bite of dried cake, as she gestured her crumb-covered fork at Jack in slight accusation. ‘’That storm was like fourteen years ago, so how do you remember it?’’

‘’I was nine at the time.’’ Jack offered in reply, as he did his best to turn the ball of yarn in his hands so that Pippa could continue her knitting undisturbed. Beside him, Cupcake started counting on her fingers, before Claude beat her to it.

‘’Wait you’re twenty-three?’’ The man exclaimed in slight surprise, just as he marked down another tally to whatever knitting-related overview it was that Pippa was keeping track of.

‘’Yep.’’

A small beat of silence passed, before Pippa gestured for Claude to add another tally.

‘’Fancy that.’’ Cupcake hummed, as she looked Jack over. ‘’You don’t look that old though. Kinda took you for a eightteen year old or something.’’ She said, to which Jack shrugged a shoulder and once more turned the yarn in his hands.

‘’Malnourishment will do that to you I guess.’’ He said and at once, the inhabitants in the small kitchen seemed to collectively decide to leave it be.

‘’How old is Pitch though?’’ Jack asked, as the thought struck him, to which Claude hummed in thought.

‘’Not sure really,’’ the man started, as he, once again, added yet another tally ‘’but probably around thirty-something considering Serap-‘’ he tried, before a harsh palm smacked down over the back of his head. ‘’Hey now that was-‘’

‘’Don’t.’’ Pippa cut Claude short before the man could raise any further complaints. ‘’Just don’t.’’ She said, and this time, the silence that settled over the place was far from comfortable. Then, as Pippa picked back up her knitting and gestured for Monty to hand over a fresh ball of yarn for her to use, Cupcake softly cleared her throat.

‘’Monty, did you get the white tea that we talked about?’’ She asked, to which the ghoul nodded once in acknowledgement. ‘’Great. We should be all set for tomorrow then.’’

‘’Tomorrow?’’ Jack asked, as he turned the fresh ball of yarn in his hands, after Pippa had sewn the ends together and finally cut the excess yarn off.

‘’Our guest is arriving a bit before we expected her to.’’ Claude helpfully added in, as he tapped the butt of his pen into the wood of the table below. ‘’She was going to stay for only three days, but since it seems there’s a storm coming, she’ll might have to stay for longer.’’ He shrugged.

‘’We’ll see.’’ Cupcake nodded along in an agreeing fashion, just as she failed to suppress a rather generous yawn. ‘’Well,’’ she said behind her shielding hand, as she got up, moved her hand to the side of her neck and gently cracked it ‘’we should probably all hit the hay early then.’’

‘’Since when were you ever the voice of reasonable bedtimes?’’ Claude huffed with no real malice in his voice, as he added one last tally and slid the paper over to Pippa, who accepted it with a slight hum.

‘’Since your salty behind had to ask.’’ Cupcake grumbled right back, as she flicked her fingers to the ceiling and started to turn to take her leave, her hand staying up, as it waved for the other to follow.

‘’Sure.’’ Claude smirked, as he trailed after her – the man’s arm wrapping over her broad shoulders, as they stalked off down the darkened hallway together.

Back in the now slightly more empty kitchen, the last three servants fussed about for a good ten minutes extra, before they too departed for the night being.

Chapter Text

Feathers, Jack thought, as he looked their newly arrived guest over - So many feathers.

Behind her lithe frame, the double doors to the mansion closed slowly to block out the chill of the oncoming winter - her very stride oozing elegance and charm, as she was offered further into the much welcoming warmth.

Gorgeous, the small voice in the back of his head chimed in, as he watched her turn her thin head and flash Pippa a familiar, genuine and warm knowing smile. Otherworldly.

Gatherings of pearls and pristine feathers in radiant shades of green and blue were sown into the fabric of her thick cloak - the lot of them cascading down her back in an elegant flow, the shining gems moving, with her slightest wave of hand, shoulder or neck. Truly, Jack mused, as he shook his head and tried to appear anything but, he was completely smitten by her appearance and if the other servants’ reactions were anything to go by, so were they.

‘’Toothiana.’’ Pitch said in polite greeting, as he glided over the rich carpets of the mansions entrance to meet her halfway. ‘’I hope your travels have been peaceful at best?’’ He said and though it sounded as formal as could be, Jack could not help but note the underlying sense of dismissive annoyance in the others voice.

‘’Almost yes.’’ Toothiana replied on a voice as clear and gentle as her entire, colourful demeanor showed. ‘’We had a bit of trouble with passing the gates back at the chasm, but it is nothing of notice.’’ She said with a slight laugh, as she allowed Claude to step forward and unburden her of her heavy, feathery cloak.

Underneath, yet more feathers and precious, gleaming gems showed themselves – Their lively display a stark contrast to Pitchs dark and foreboding demeanor, as the latter nodded once and bid her to follow him in.

--

‘’What?’’ Jack said on a near hiss of a whisper, as Cupcake poked her head and hand around the edge of the corner and waved him over. Behind him in the room that he had just left, heads bend together and invested in deep conversation; his holder and the colourful guest were busy discussing something in a language that Jack could not understand.

‘’Just come on you nit, I gotta show you something.’’ Cupcake hissed right back, as she insistently waved for him to move already.

Jack bit at his lip, clearly unsure if he should humor her or not, as he looked back to the door that he had practically just closed behind him. No more than five minutes would pass and his absence would clearly be noted…

‘’Come on!’’ Cupcake hissed insistently, as she seemed to lose her patience and started off down the hall without him and, with a small shake of the head, Jack finally decided to follow after.

-

‘’What in the world is this?’’

Jack felt his eyes grow large in wonder, his confused smile widening on its own despite himself, as he curiously gazed down at one of the tiny, sleepy birds inside the box that Cupcake had shown him to. The entire affair was risky, he knew that – the two haven sneaked into their guests private room and gone through her belongings as they had, but, as one of the small creatures turned and bumped its little, feathered head against Cupcakes meaty hand, he found that he did not overly care.

‘’A little spy.’’ Cupcake said, as she gently scooped it up into her palm and lifted it up from its silken cushion.

‘’What?’’ Jack asked, as he gingerly reached out a hand and let the tip of a finger glide down over its soft head. ‘’How is this a spy?’’ He asked on a voice clearly awed.

‘’They are sentient.’’ Cupcake explained, as she nodded her head down at one that was slowly starting to wake up as well. ‘’Whatever they see or hear, they relay back to her. Tooth doesn’t mind that we play with them, but Pitch does.’’ She said, just as the bird in her hands fluttered its feathers and opened its beak to yawn out a clear, slightly high-pitched tune.

‘’Adorable.’’ Jack chuckled at it, as he kneeled down and folded his arms on the stand that the opened box itself was perched on. Then, just as he reached out and let another of the sleepy little birds crawl onto the back of his hand, his other shooting out to aid as it attempted to awkwardly stumble up over the expanse of his thin arm, he turned his head to gaze back up at Cupcake. ‘’But why does Pitch mind if the owner doesn’t though?’’ He asked, to which Cupcake seemed to suck on her teeth for a moment, her brow set in concentration, as she thought it over.

‘’Because they bite.’’ She finally said and truly, Jack had no doubt that there was more to it than that. Still, he decided to let it be for the moment being. After all, more than seven minutes had already passed since he had been sent out to fetch some of the white tea, which Cupcake had so insisted that they stuck up on and so really, he should be going.

--

Most of the preceding day progressed fluently, the following evening calm as well, before the inhabitants of the dark mansion, one by one, retired for the oncoming night. The next day progressed just as smoothly, though, except for the small colourful birds, which fleeted about at random through the hallways of the mansion, Jack did not see either hint or hide of his holder nor the colorful guest herself.

As the third rolled around however and all were gathered for a late, shared dinner with servants and holders all joining as equals alike, things quickly soured.

Tooth and Pitch had been conversing in a language that Jack did not understand, but, regardless of that fact, he easily noted the obvious tension that transcended over the room like a cold, insistent tidal wave of dread, as the conversation between the two trod onto clearly unwanted territory.

Jack turned his head towards Pippa who had just lowered her fork in shock, her knuckles white from how hard she clutched it, mouth set in a tight, thin line, as she looked to see whatever effect the offered comment would have on Pitch.

‘’What was that?’’ Jack whispered, as he too looked to where his holder had likewise put his cutlery down, Pitchs hands curled into loose fists on the table, his glare deadly tense, as he narrowed his eyes at Tooth in what was unmistakably anger. On Jacks left, Pippa had opted to ignore him and on his right, Monty had frozen up as well - the slight widening of the ghouls eyes the only indication that something either was about to, or already had happened.

Then, at the end of the long table, Pitch drew a shaky breath, his voice a low growl, as he kept his cold gaze directed onto the colourful guest at the other end of the table.

‘’Leave.’’

Immediately, the ghoul put a hand on Jacks shoulder and pushed him up and along with him – the remaining three quick to follow in his wake, as Monty ushered them out. ‘’What is going on?’’ Jack hissed, just as Pippa gently shushed him. Behind them, the door to the dining hall had barely closed, before it clearly descended into a barely muffled chaos – the following shouting loud, as it echoed out.

‘’What did she say?’’ Cupcake likewise peeped up as well, as she quickly caught up with Monty’s long, purposeful strides, to which the other shook his head a tad sternly and waved for her to be quiet.

‘’Not here.’’ The ghoul clipped back, as he sent a withering glare at one of the small birds, which had seemed summoned by the loud debacle, just as the unmistakable crash of something breaking sounded behind the closed doors.

Glass, by the sounds of it, but Jack could not be sure. Whatever it was, it had been thrown rather harshly.

‘’Just go.’’ Pippa lowly agreed, as they all fled towards the safety of the kitchen.

--

‘’What did he...’’ Claude trailed off unsure of himself, as he cradled Pippa close, the smaller haven crawled into his lap and cuddled up close, as she had. None mentioned the faint tremors in her shoulders and clearly, she was glad for it. ‘’What did she say to him?’’

‘’Nothing good.’’ Monty replied, as he flitted around the kitchen and by the looks of it, prepared what would serve as a far sparser, continuous dinner for the five servants all gathered there.

‘’But what exactly?’’ Claude pressed, as he settled a hand onto the back of Pippas head and attempted to calm her just a tad. Behind him, though the man could not see it from his seated position, Monty had paused, the ghouls’ shoulders falling in defeat and clear exhaustion, as he seemed to mule it over.

In the end, it was Pippa that gave up the answer.

‘’She told him not to give up.’’ She said, her voice slightly muffled and so soft that both Cupcake and Jack had to lean in closer in order to catch it all, as she hid her face into Claudes’ chest. ‘’ She reminded him of those we have lost because of- Because. Because of… specifically what he has lost because of-’’ she tried, before letting the end of her cut-off sentence fade into nothingness.

‘’Because of what?’’ Cupcake, clearly running out of patience from the continuous avoidance of the subject, practically hissed out the last word. Beside her, Claude seemed to have realized what was going on.

‘’Because of the earl.’’ The man said on a slow, contemplating tune and behind him, Monty softly hummed in an agreeing fashion.

‘’Indeed.’’ The ghoul agreed and at once, both Claude and Cupcake seemed to regret that they had pressed.

‘’Oh.’’ Cupcake said softly, as she briefly glanced to where Pippa had seemed to somehow curl further in on herself. ‘’Oh no.’’

For several beats, a heavy silence that all except for Jack seemed to understand descended over the kitchen, the quiet stretching on seemingly endlessly, before Pippa drew a heavy sigh.

‘’Word of advice.’’ Her slight clip of a voice spoke up, as she sniffled softly and scratched at her closed eyelids. ‘’Whatever you do, you leave Pitch alone tonight.’’

--

An endless expanse of stars stretched out over what he could see of the sky outside of the stables glassless window. The wind was cold, the wood of the platform that he had claimed for his own a solid and likewise chilly presence against his back, as Jack onehandedly flicked a bit of hay out of his face. Directly below him, the soft, heavy breaths of the black mare sounded.

If anything, Jack mused, as he fiddled restlessly with another string of hay, she did not seem to mind that he was quite literally hiding out in the stables with her and the rest of her brethren - Quite the opposite really, she seemed amused by his presence. Then, just as the sound of quick footfalls stalked closer to the stables in question, Jack jolted and turned so that he was able to view the entrance of it.

He was not sure as to why he would even be on edge in the first place though – Pitch might be annoyed, but he had done nothing wrong and so, Jack willed himself to relax back against the beam of the small protruding platform that he was perched on. The shadows seemed to thicken - the dark pressing in on him close, as the sneering form of his holder entered in and brought a wave of pure, inky black with him.

Below, as the shadows seemed to sweep further in and out over the place, the mare tossed her head in greeting, as the master of the house trod in and approached her purposefully - the tension in his shoulders obvious, as he cussed something under his breath, in that strange language that he had been conversing with Tooth in earlier.

Then, with movements a tad stiffly, Pitch started to prepare her saddle. Jack watched for a good minute more, his own movements causing a rather generous portion of hay to fall over the edge of it, as he sat up further and swung his legs out over the edge of the platform itself.

‘’You need help with that?’’ He asked and at once, the familiar flood of fear swept through the forefront of his mind, as the other spun and finally noticed his now previously quiet presence. The silence was tense for a beat, the shadows jerking about in a vicious response, before Pitch squeezed his eyes shut and seemed to get them back under control.

Well that settles that, Jack thought, as he heard the other grumble something in that strange, foreign language of his under his breath. He did not know how, neither did he understand how such a thing could even be possible to begin with, but the other was indeed controlling the flickering dark around them.

‘’Get down here.’’

Dutifully, Jack climbed the steps of the raggedy ladder down, the two working in silence for the better half of a minute, before a subtle fluttering of wings sounded behind them.

‘’I know it’s none of my business-‘’ Jack started, before Pitch cut him short with a slight, thoroughly angered growl.

‘’Then do not ask.’’

‘’-but where are you going?’’

Pitch stopped short, his pale hand paused in the mares black as night mane, as he seemed to have to mentally count to ten.

‘’Monty will give you directions as to what will happen in the next couple of days.’’ Pitch said, as he loudly ignored Jacks question and instead stalked over to fetch close one of the three bags that he had brought with him.

‘’Gotcha.’’ Jack said, as he watched the other tie the first bag securely down. ‘’You going to be away for a while then?’’ He asked, as he handed the next one over to the other. Beside him, Pitchs’ shoulders rose from obvious tension, his golden eyes narrowing, as he fought to keep his cool.

‘’I have no way of saying exactly how long it will be.’’ He said, as he tied the last of the three bags down. Behind them, the small, colourful bird shuffled sideways down the sturdy rafter that it was perched on, its feathers fluttering once, as it turned its dark eye towards the tall imposing image of the mansions grimacing master.

‘’But like, are we talking a day or two, or maybe mo-‘’

The widening of the others golden and silvery eyes were the only warning that Jack got before he found himself backing away in fright, as the other spun on him – claws flexed and curved, as though he was ready to take Jacks eyes out, should the latter continue to pressure him. As the master of the house took a step forwards, Jack took two back, his gaze wild and wide, as he felt a pair of strong hands reach out and settle heavily onto each of his thin shoulders.

A deep, rattling breath sounded, just as Pitch tightened his hold of the smaller and forcefully held him in place.

‘’Stop.’’ The master of the house hissed, as he moved a hand to pinge the bridge of his nose, as though trying to stall the insistent headache that was coming on quick. ‘’Please just stop this.’’

A few beats passed, in which Jack felt the others grip tighten beyond comfortable, but except for that, Pitch made no further indication that he would truly harm him, should the other continue to press on regardless of the warning.

‘’It’s not that I don’t want to.’’ Jack said on a slightly clipped tune after he had recovered out of his brief shock. ‘’But I have no fucking clue as to what’s going on around here and it’s just… Shouldn’t I know?’’ He pressed, as he gestured out a tad vaguely in the general direction of the mansion. ‘’You all talk in secrets about old stuff that’s happened that I got no clue of. You’re pissed. I get that.’’ He said, just as, one by one, Pitch uncurled the fingers still holding the other in place and stepped back slightly. ‘’But how do you want me to avoid all the touchy subjects when you haven’t given me a general overview of what not to touch on?’’

A few beats of silence passed, the standoff loaded with tension, before finally, Pitch seemed to deflate, his own shoulders hunched in obvious defeat, as he exhaled a tad shakenly. As he stared at the silvery embroidery of Jacks dark vest, he did not quite seem to actually see him – his voice low and gritty, heavy with emotion, as he spoke.

‘’What do you need to know?’’

‘’Well fuck, I dunno.’’ Jack started, as he raised his arms out slightly by his sides. ‘’For starters, who’s the earl you all keep referring to?’’ He pressed. ‘’And what did he do since the rest of the lot back in there seems so scared of him? Who is he? What did he take?’’

In front of him, the corners of Pitchs mouth drew up into a humorless smirk, his golden eyes once more narrowed, as he clasped his hands behind his back and straightened to his full, impressive height. Around, the shadows seemed to cling tighter to him, licking up his back and coating his shoulders in their dark presence, as he shook his head slightly.

‘’That might not be something that I am able to answer on a night like this.’’

‘’And why not?’’

‘’I assure you that I will answer.’’ Pitch said – his eyes straying away from Jack, just as a subtle fluttering of wings sounded behind the other. ‘’But not here and not on this night in particular.’’

‘’But why?’’ Jack pressed, to which the other seemed to will himself a steadying breath.

‘’I can keep rephrasing the same sentence till the sun dances over my plains, but it would seem futile at best.’’

‘’But-‘’

‘’No Jack.’’ Pitch said, as he without offering up any further explanations or any kind of an actual answer on the matter, grabbed hold of the saddles front and swung himself up onto it. ‘’Make no mistake, I do not owe you an answer to any of this, but perhaps you are right. Maybe it is better that you know.’’

‘’So tell me now and I can-‘’

‘’Seven hells, why are you this difficult?’’ Pitch clipped dryly, his gaze straying out onto the darkened horizon ahead, as he grabbed hold of the reins. ‘’Should you ever encounter him, which I pray to the gods that none of my staff ever has the unfortunate displeasure of doing so again.’’ He started, as he shook his head, the mare beneath him huffing, as she started to restlessly toss her head in excitement for the promise of the late-night ride that she was about to embark on. ‘’Then you best change your ways quick. If it comes to it, then you will address him correctly and politely, and, if you can, you best stay out of his immediate path all together.’’ Pitch said, as he briefly glanced over at the small bird that somehow, while Jack had kept his attention elsewhere, had moved close enough that should he reach a hand out, he could touch the soft, colourful feathers.

‘’Approach him with the same disrespect that you have shown me thus far and he will have your head for it.’’

‘’I’m not that bad.’’ Jack argued, to which the other regarded him with a withering glare, his hairless brow raised, as he scoffed low.

‘’If all goes well, then I will return in five days’ time.’’ Pitch said, as he, once more, clearly opted to ignore Jacks comments. ‘’Come to me then and we shall speak further on the matter. Until then, let it rest.’’

‘’I just-‘’ Jack started, the words dying on his tongue, as he watched the other, very elegantly, roll his eyes in annoyance, before the master of the house ordered the mare to move. ‘’Are you seriously just going to-‘’

‘’Yes, Jack, I am.’’ Pitch clipped back dryly, as he continued out, the hooves of the mare clopping softly over the cobblestones, before he spun her once and glanced back at the other. ‘’Now get in before you freeze.’’

‘’It’s not that cold.’’

‘’Yes it is.’’

And just like that, Jack watched as his holder took off into the night. A soft cooing sounded at his ear then, as the small, colourful bird settled onto his shoulder and turned its head to watch the other gallop away as well. A spy, Jack heard Cupcakes voice ring softly in his head, as he absently raised a hand to scratch at its small head, before he sighed deep and likewise walked out into the courtyard in front of him. Tooth would know that Pitch had left and while he did not know if that fact would matter or not, it sure seemed to have irked Pitch a whole great deal.

For a few beats, he simply stood there, enjoying the fresh chill of the wind and the dark, open night sky above him, before the cold pinpoint that bloomed out over the top of his left cheek made him flinch in a startled surprise. Then, as he looked up and stared at said gently moving sky, he felt another settle onto his blinking eyelid.

Jack paused, as his brain finally connected the dots and registered the snowflakes that drifted down around him. Then, his eyes fell shut, the bird on his shoulder shuffling about in order not to fall off, as he spread his arms out wide and embraced it.

Winter had truly come.

Chapter Text

A light layer of snow covered the grounds of the mansions grand garden. In its middle, propped up by a, likewise coated by the cold fluffy white, table, Toothiana sat and sipped on the white tea that Cupcake had brought out for her. A delighted smile played on her lip, her gentle frame drenched in rich furs and coats, as she chuckled low at something that one of her little birds had cooed at her.

For the first few days that she had stayed at the mansion, Jack had liked her, adored her even, but now, he was not so sure on how to feel.

It had been subtle at first, but little by little, he had started to note the sharp edge to her. It was something just barely there under the surface, a blink and you would miss it kind of thing he supposed and one thing was for certain - she was not as sweet and easygoing, as she pretended to be.

She was fierce. She meant business and damn well, if she had set her mind to something, she would do anything in her power to get it done, regardless if the people around her was in on it or not. She moved with grace, but there was strength in her stride, her back straight and hands delicate, but Jack had no doubt that she could crush him, if she so desired.

Around her small shoulders, her small birds flitted about, the tiny creatures taking off and then landing, as they would take turns to sit on them and coo softly at her listening ear. Indeed, Jack wondered, as he crossed his arms and glared at her from the frame of the open door that he was leaning against, he wondered if they were sharing what they had seen and heard on their trips around the mansions and the surrounding farms grounds.

Almost as if reading his train of thought, Toothianas lithe frame shook from a deep, delighted laughter, before she shook her head and glanced over at him. Her long lashes winked at him once then, one delicate hand straying up, as she beckoned one of her birds to climb onto the back of it. Whatever it was that she whispered to it, he was too far away to hear, and, as the black eye of the bird turned and stared at Jack, he felt even more secure in his rapidly slipping dislike towards her.

The rest of the servants all lingering under the mansions roof were clearly traumatized by whatever the earl had done during his visit. Or visits, perhaps it was a plural thing, but yet, he had no way of knowing and just the mere mention of him seemed to send the others on edge. Therefore, if it was because of what she had done towards the mansions master himself - or rather, what she had said to him and thus ripped up old, seemingly barely healed wounds in the others, Jack was not sure, but one thing was for certain:

She really was not as sweet as he had first thought her to be.

--

‘’A little higher!’’ Pippa ordered, as Claude fought to get the giant, ridiculously long scarf that she had knitted around the neck of the statue of the dark stallion located outside in the gardens as well. ‘’Just a bit to your left and you should be able to hold onto the tree branch just above you.’’ She said, as she tried to gesture for him to move a bit to the left. ‘’No love, your left, you’re moving right, not… No Claude, the other way… Oh gods never mind, just get down before you hurt yourself.’’

Still safely on the ground, Pippa sighed slowly, as she watched Claude shrug a tad stiffly, before the man once more attempted to fling the scarf out over its neck, yet, as he threw it out, once more, it merely slipped down its side and ended up on the ground.

‘’Maybe… Try and ball it up before you throw it?’’ Pippa suggested, and this time, after Claude had hauled it back up and gotten his hands onto the end of it, the man succeeded in getting it to land on the right side of the statue.

--

‘’I spy?’’ Cupcake asked, to which Pippa shrugged slightly.

‘’Snow.’’ She offered, to which the other hummed low.

‘’Yep. I spy?’’

‘’More snow.’’ Pippa said again, as she tried to stifle a yawn behind her hand, yet, it slipped out regardless.

‘’Indeed more fucking snow.’’ Cupcake agreed, as she flicked her fingers to the high ceiling above.

‘’Language.’’

‘’Oh shut up Monty, don’t act like you’re not going insane right alongside the rest of us.’’

Outside of one of the cozy reading-rooms that the five of them, now all safely inside the mansions warmer halls, had huddled together for warmth in, the wind howled and roared, as the insistent storm drew in and swept through the lands. Frost ghosted over the windows and as Cupcake and Claude had teamed up and tried to wedge the front doors open, they found them to be blocked and frozen shut by snow and ice.

As such, Toothiana still stayed with them - the colourful guest equally trapped as the rest of them were.

‘’Is Pitch going to be able to find his way home when the weather is like this?’’ Jack asked, before he could think better of it. Already, it had been six days since their holder had left abruptly in the early hours of the night.

‘’What, you worried for him?’’ Claude asked, as he wiggled his brows at the other, to which Jack loudly rolled his eyes.

‘’How are we going to get food if he dies like a common idiot out there?’’ Jack countered, though the jab sounded stale even to his own ears. It was not worry though, he reckoned. He did not necessary like Pitch, but he did not outright dislike or want him to die either.

‘’He’ll be fine.’’ Pippa said, as she wedged a foot out of her blanket to lightly tap the side of Claudes naked own. ‘’He knows better than to be caught out in something like that.’’

But what if he has? Rang through Jacks mind before he could stop himself.

‘’Sure.’’ He grumbled instead of voicing it aloud. Beside him, Cupcake shrugged.

‘’Hopefully it lifts up tomorrow.’’

--

The storm however, did in fact not lift up the day after. If anything, it seemed to intensify in strength by each passing hour and more than once, unable to find anything to put his mind and energy on as he were, Jack had found himself pacing restlessly through the halls of the dark mansion. Somehow, he had ended up in the very entrance of it - Jack wrapped up in a blanket, head in hand, as he stared at the great double doors that stubbornly stayed closed.

Idly, he used his free hand to scratch at the back of his head, as he looked to the window where outside, the storm were still currently busy wreaking havoc on the lands.

It was not like him to worry like this. Perhaps the conflicted feeling was born out of gratitude for being liberated out of the slow death sentence that was the waiting in the steel cage. Perhaps it stemmed from something else entirely.

Still, Pitch would be fine, Jack mused, as he tapped the tip of a finger against his bottom lip. Behind him, the subtle fluttering of wings sounded, as one of the colourful birds landed on one of the steps a tad higher up from where he sat – the small thing cooing softly in greeting, before it bowed its little head to prune the feathers of its left, outstretched wing.

He had to be.

--

This was getting ridiculous.

Two more days had come and gone and by now, Jack truly was worried. Curse his heart for even caring in the first place, but he cared about people in general and at the end of the day, Pitch had not exactly been cruel, had he?

Beside him, the rag made a splash, as he dipped it a tad harder into the bucket than was strictly necessary.

No. No he had not, not yet at least - even when clearly angry, his holder, unlike the announcer that Jack had now so happily gotten away from, had still shown great restraint in not taking it out where it was not due. Jack knew that he had been pressing to see what would happen, knew, that his permanent stay would be a whole lot easier to deal with, if he knew the others triggers, but it seemed there was none. None, which would lead to mindless violence anyway.

Jack, currently on his knees in one of the hallways leading into the entrance, groaned low to himself, as he straitened up slightly from where he had been scrubbing the floors of it. As he moved a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, he found that the wound, from when he had cut himself on a dropped vase, had reopened - the piece of cloth that he had hastily bound it with pink with blood and drenched from the water that he had been using.

Sure, the soap from the water stung, as he had to dip the rag in it, but it was a dull and manageable pain.

And speak of the devil, the small voice in the back of his head whispered, as a wave of gentle dark swept in and coated over the tips of his fingers, from where he kept his hand firmly planted against the chill of the tiles below. Awkwardly, his bound other stayed up by his head, the fingers of it cold and wrinkled from water, as he stared in shock at the murky boots and the trail that the master of the house had carelessly left behind.

Pitch was drenched from the snow, his frown tight, black hair slicked back and dripping around his head, as he continued in and made further, muddy boot-prints on the marble floor that Jack had literally just cleaned.

‘’Did you see anyone for that?’’ The master of the house asked on a worn-sounding voice, just as Jack had to crane his neck, as the foreboding presence came to a halt just beside him – the molten gold narrowed and zoned in on his poorly bandaged hand as it was.

‘’What?’’

Jack hissed in pain, as Pitch unceremoniously reached a clawed hand down and, a tad roughly, tugged the shorter back on his feet – said claws careful, as they tore away the fabric and examined the slightly puffy and irritated cut close.

‘’Did you see Bunny?’’ Pitch clarified, to which Jack shook his head. No, sending word for the doctor was expensive after all, so of course, he had not.

A few seconds ticked by in which the master of the house seemed to mule something over. Then, he took Jacks hand in both of his own – the latter yelping from the sharp sensation of it and trying to jerk back, only to have the grip tighten further.

‘’Stay still.’’ Was the only warning that he got and at once, Jack felt himself freeze up from the lethal edge that the tone held to it.

Around them, a warm golden light spilled forth from the hands holding his smaller own in place and little by little, the pain started to evaporate. It left him with a tingling sensation running down his arm and around his elbow, and, as Jack stared at his now released palm, he found the wound to be gone. In its place, only a faint scar remained.

Jack stared at it, momentarily lost for words, as he looked up to find that Pitch had already started to turn away – the latter’s stride quick, as he strode past the other.

‘’I-‘’ Jack tried to call after him, only to have the master of the house flick his fingers to the high ceiling above in a dismissive fashion, before he all out left without a word.

--

Three more days passed before the snow and the ice let up enough for them to bid their colourful guest a pleasant and safe trip ahead. Now, out in the courtyard, standing on top of the fluffy whites of the shielded cobblestones, Toothiana waved her delicate hand, as she said her belated goodbyes – the small birds looking like lines of blurry movements, as they flitted around her laughing form.

Pippa seemed genuinely sad as she waved back, Claude just as so, but, if Jack completely understood why the openly frowning Pitch seemed happy to see her go, he was not going to comment on it.

--

‘’You said I had rights?’’ Jack asked, after he had knocked thrice on the office door and been led in. Once again, much like the last time that he had come on a spontaneous quest for answers, it was late at night.

‘’A few, yes.’’ Pitch started, as he leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other – his fingers folding, before coming to rest in his lap. ‘’You get to have a say in the routines around this place. If something causes you physical pain, or is taxing beyond what seems reasonable, it will be changed.’’

That… Seemed like a bit of a luxury.

‘’Is that a common thing?’’ Jack asked, to which Pitch shook his head.

‘’Just here.’’ The master of the house answered curtly. In front of him, Jack clutched his tea close, as he mused on it. He knew that he had to make a choice in whether or not he wanted to truly play along in the whole affair, and by the gods, when he eventually had to, he hoped that it would be the right one.

Still, calling Pitch by his rightful title? No. That was not going to happen again anytime soon.

‘’If I may?’’ Jack tried, as he worried his lip between his teeth. The next part seemed to require just a tad tact and at once, it seemed that the other understood what Jack was about to ask. This time, the former knew that he was not mistaking it, as the room around them seemed to grow dark. Softly, he continued, when Pitch gestured for him to go on. ‘’Who is the earl that everyone keeps talking about?’’

Jack felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, as shadows licked up the expanse of his back – the thin tendrils trailing high and then dipping back down over his spine, pressing in close, as though they wished to smother him in their soft caress.

If the other was even aware that he was doing it, Jack had no clue.

‘’Who is he?’’ Jack asked again, when it became clear to him that Pitch was far more than just merely reluctant to do so. When finally he spoke, it sounded worn, stretched out and tired beyond his unknown years.

‘’I hope that you will not have the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him.’’ Pitch said, as he repeated his words from days past. ‘’He,’’ he said, before pausing, his eyes narrowing, as he seemed to look for the right words ‘’he controls the lands and all those who live or merely trespass through. If he disagrees with my ways, then he gets the final say in whether or not they will be changed to better fit his… taste.’’

‘’Is it…’’ Jack tried, before he trailed off. ‘’Is it normal for an earl to have that much power?’’

‘’No.’’ Pitch said simply, though he did not elaborate further on it. ‘’To put it as plainly as I can, whether you like it or not, if he tells you to dance, then you must dance.’’

‘’And if you don’t?’’ Jack asked, to which the other slowly shook his head once in a clear dismissal of the mere thought of such.

‘’Then you would lose both of your feet for showing such disrespect.’’ Pitch said, and as he briefly glanced off to the side, the bright light from the dancing flames in the fireplace reflected in his golden eyes. A few beats passed in a tense silence, before the master of the house seemed to compose himself enough to once more meet the others curious gaze head on.

‘’I have lost countless of hours and precious items in order to keep his greed satisfied. Young as he is, he is quite insatiable already.’’ Pitch said, to which Jack hummed softly in what he hoped sounded like understanding.

Jack knew that he was already treading on dangerously thin ice, but, he had no intention of stopping now.

‘’And your daughter is one of those items?’’ He asked, and judging by the narrowing of the others eyes and the way that the shadows jerked in a silent, restless response, he knew that he had hit the nail on its head. ‘’You said it was best for me to know.’’ Jack argued, before the other could berate him for it.

‘’And,’’ Pitch started on a slight growl, as he, clearly irked, sneered at the other ‘’this particular field is not one within the line of possible things that I wish to discuss with you.’’

The narrowed gold in front of him seemed to glow in the low, smothered light, but, Jack refused to be intimidated.

‘’Maybe so, but you know I’ll keep asking until I get an answer.’’ He pressed. He did not actually think that he would get an answer on the matter however and, as expected, he did not get one.

‘’For your own sake, let it lie then.’’ Pitch clipped coldly, before he turned his attention to a stack of newly arrived papers in front of him – his fingers experienced, as they spread them out, eyes swift, as they scanned down over their written contents. ‘’Things are busy enough as they are and I do not need you meddling further in my affairs than you already have.’’

Then why did you even let me in to begin with? Jack wondered, as he felt a slight pout take to his lip.

‘’If it ever comes to it and the earl decides to haunt us with a visit, then you will all be warned beforehand.’’ Pitch said, as he absently flicked a hand out to snatch his dark feather close. Angrily, he let it fly over the bottom of one of the papers in what appeared to be his signature, before placing the feather back to its quill. ‘’The best you can do is stick to the bare minimum of communication if he is near, and as for the rest, I will personally see to that. You will not engage unless you absolutely have to.’’

‘’And why not?’’ Jack asked regardless and in front of him, Pitch sighed, as he pinged the bridge of his nose in a clear show of frustration.

‘’Considering what I have already told you, you would seriously ask that question?’’

‘’I mean, unless you actually think he'd ask for me to tap dance, then you haven’t exactly given me a completely specific example of what would happen.’’

‘’You would call my words unclear?’’

‘’Nah, just unnecessarily vague.’’

For a few beats, Pitch just stared at him a tad dumbfounded, papers once more abandoned for the moment being, as he huffed low and leaned back in his chair again.

‘’I do believe that I have given a specific example already, but you are quite the literal person, are you not?’’ The master of the house asked, to which Jack nodded.

‘’Yep.’’ He agreed. ‘’But give me another example then. If I talk back to him, what’ll happen?’’

‘’He would have your tongue.’’

‘’And if I made a crude gesture to wordlessly tell him to fuck right off.’’

‘’Then he would have your hand chopped off for it.’’ Pitch said, with a slight strain in his tone. ‘’And possibly your head too.’’

‘’And if I-‘’

‘’I do believe you quite understand how this entire thing works by now.’’

‘’Yeah but-‘’

‘’No, Jack. Enough already. You are not that daft.’’

A small chuckle escaped Jack then, his pleased smirk poorly hidden behind his mug of nearly forgotten tea, as he raised it up enough to do so.

‘’I’ll take that as a compliment.’’ He said, to which the other seemed to have to suppress a groan of dismay.

‘’It was not meant to be one.’’ Pitch said with a small shake of the head, before he gestured at the still closed door behind Jack. ‘’Now if you will excuse me, I do have work to do and you are quite the annoying distraction.’’

--

Jacks lungs burned, his heart feeling as though it would leap out of his chest from both panic and joy, as he jumped off the wagon and ran ahead – the horses now behind him slowed and tired from haven to drag the heavy load along, as they were.

A good week had passed before the weather had turned enough in their favor for them to safely travel into town again and this time, Pitch, after Jack had asked for it, had allowed for him to tag along for the journey. Technically, they already had all that they needed for when the winter would truly hit, but, as previous experiences had shown, it would be better for them to stock up a little extra than was strictly needed.

Loudly, he ignored the startled look and the questioning shout of his name, as he sprinted past Pippa and headed straight for his holders office. This time, as he reached it, Jack did not bother to knock.

With his chest heaving, shoulders tense and breath barely caught, he kept a knuckle-white grip of the door handle, as he stared wide eyed over at Pitch who stood up from his desk at once – his molten gold narrowed, as he looked the other over for any possible and immediate injuries.

‘’What has happened?’’ The master of the house asked, the tone serious, just as Jack stumbled the first step into the office and nearly collapsed from how hard he had run to get there.

‘’I found her,’’ Jack panted in a way of explanation ‘’my sister. My sister has been sold.’’

Chapter Text

‘’And what do you expect me to do about that?’’

Jack felt his heart skip a beat. The world froze, as he felt his full focus settle onto the others lifted, unimpressed brow.

‘’Please.’’ He blurted out. ‘’I'll do anything, I'll stay, I'll be good, just please.’’

‘’I already own you.’’ Pitch deadpanned, most of the immediate tension fleeing from his tall frame, as the tip of his claws started to tap a quick tattoo over the tables’ hard surface. ‘’You have nothing to give.’’

‘’Please,’’ Jack begged bitterly, as he squared his shoulders and openly glared at the other. ‘’She's only nine. You know what happens to someone that young.’’

‘’There is nothing that I can do.’’

‘’Bullshit.’’

In front of him, Pitchs’ mouth drew up into a sneer. ‘’Watch your tone with me boy.’’ The master of the house warned low.

‘’I'm not a boy.’’

‘’Well you act like one.’’ Pitch clipped right back, claws bend, as they scrapped over and slightly into the rough wood of the table.

‘’Godsdammit you fucking piece of-’’

‘’No.’’ The room seemed to shake with Pitchs’ slight anger – the one word reverberating through Jacks frantic mind, as he, unwillingly, felt himself take a step back in fright, just as Pitch once more drew up into his full, impressive height. ‘’There is nothing that I can do and that is final. You will accept it and leave it be.’’

Jack knew that he had been dismissed, knew, that there was nothing that could be done on the matter, but damn well if that was going to stop him. Without a word, he nodded once in what he hoped to be as much of a mock as he intended it to be, before he turned on his heel and stalked right back the way he had come.

He would have to wait until sundown, but, come hell and high water, if it was the last thing that he did, he would get her out of there.

--

The weather was as chilly as ever, as Jack helped unload the wagon – the following, shared, late dinner warm and tasting ashen in his mouth from restless energy, as he tried and failed in his attempts to not count the hours until the sun would dip below the horizon.

Eventually, the light did flee from over the plains and finally, he had the perfect cover to set about into the early hours of the night.

--

Jack glanced back and forth, as he crossed the quiet, main center of the marketplace and made it to the small bakery just ahead. Already, from the ghouls’ and his trip, he had spotted a backdoor leading into the facility and damn well, he intended to use it.

He knew that he had to act fast, knew, that if he lingered too long, then somebody would either notice that their holders fastest mare was missing or that Jack, for that sake, had gone as well.

That he had even managed to get out undetected in the first place was a miracle in and of itself, but he was not going to question it. He had made it out and now, he had work to do.

The door creaked on its hinges, as he managed to get it open, Jack mindful of any misplaced items that would give him away, as he crept in as quietly as he could. At least, that was one of the benefits to having such a small frame - while he was slowly gaining a bit of healthy weight again, the protrusion of his ribs less obvious as they were, he was still light and quick on his feet.

Idly, he kept a hand to the wall beside him, as he went further into where he hoped the backroom of the store would be located; the paint of it cracked, dry under his palm, as he felt alongside it.

Eventually, after he had nearly sent an empty bucket tumbling over when he had blindly stumbled into it – his free hand quick to shoot down and right it as it was – he found the room that he sought.

Jack pressed a finger to his lips, as the small bundle of subdued joy that was his sibling sat up and sleepily wiped her little hands at her rapidly blinking eyes and, as Jack extended his own towards her, a beam of pale moonlight fell on the back of one.

He could not help but grin, as she realized who he was – her relief and glee obvious, as she giddily smiled back.

‘’Come.’’ He said on a hushed whisper.

He knew that he would be punished heavily for it, but as her lesser hand grabbed his, he found that he did not care one bit.

--

The next day at the dark mansion went about as per usual. Still, there were no signs of anyone haven noted that an extra portion of their breakfast and later, shared lunch had disappeared.

Evening came and eventually gave way to night, before finally, just at the crack of the following dawn, a harsh, insistent pounding sounded at their door.

--

‘’What is the meaning of this?’’

Never in his life had Jack thought that he would be outright delighted to hear the ghouls stern voice, but alas, here he was. As though fighting for his life, which, he might well be, Jack clawed at the hand that had twined into his hair and made a fist of it – his screams of bloody murder and attempted kicking loud and echoing out, as he was dragged towards the entrance.

He had not recognized any of the three men that had barged into the mansion uninvited, but it seemed Monty did.

‘’Why are you here?’’ The ghoul clipped, as he swiftly looked each of them over.

‘’We have reason to suspect that you harboring someone else’s property.’’ The one holding onto Jack rasped back on a voice that sounded wrecked by past decades of heavy smoking and drinking. Smells the deal too, Jack thought, as the hand in his hair hauled him upwards towards the others chest and shook him about a bit for emphasis.

Fucking hell did that hurt.

Jack tried to dig his nails into the others clutching fingers, just as Monty slowed his pace significantly.

‘’And who would that be?’’ He asked, as the accusation caught up with him.

‘’A little brunette.’’ Another with a hunter’s rifle casually slung over his shoulder gruffed back. ‘’Butchers’ boys missed her a great deal this morning.’’

At least Monty had the decency to look disgusted for all of a second, before the other barked a laugh right back.

‘’Relax.’’ The one with the rifle said, as he raised his free hand to pick at his teeth. ‘’She just used for cleaning. Nothing of the sort you lot been thinking.’’ Warily, the ghoul eyed the mouth of the rifle, as it was bounced a bit on its wielders broad shoulder. ‘’We gonna have to take this one with us though.’’ He said, as he gestured at Jack with a slight nod of the head.

‘’And why would that be?’’ Monty asked, to which the other shrugged a shoulder and looked to the third individual of their little trio, who had yet to speak up.

‘’Orders from our boss.’’ The third answered on a low rasp of a voice. ‘’Young skinny figure with your embroidery was spotted running around in the marketplace yesterday night. One of the others said they heard a male voice, so unless you’re the one we looking for, then we taking this one in for questioning.’’

‘’Questioning.’’ Monty repeated with clear distaste in his voice, as his gaze kept straying to the rifles imposing presence. ‘’Yes indeed,’’ he said lowly under his breath, as he stood up straight ‘’and I suppose there is a reason as to why that cannot be done here?’’ He asked, to which the one with the rifle once more shrugged a tad stiffly – the corner of his lip drawing up into a half-smirk, as he had clearly noticed the ghouls’ discomfort of the, for now, resting weapon.

‘’We’d rather not make a mess.’’

Monty looked grim and if he seemed anything but hopeful, then Jack would rather not linger on it for too long. The ghouls gaze stayed locked with the armed others - his mouth just opened to speak, before Pitch himself interrupted on a slight clip of a voice.

‘’I am afraid that will not be possible.’’

‘’And why the fuck not?’’ The one still holding Jack in place grumbled with a tad strain in his voice, as he looked the newly arrived over. Clearly, though Jack could not exactly see his features, he did recognize the clear disgust in his tone. ‘’Even you stuck up folks gotta answer to the law.’’

‘’And the law,’’ Pitch started, as he clasped his hands behind his back and strode forwards ‘’states that one cannot remove another’s properties from his or her lands unless the individual is found guilty first.’’ He clipped. ‘’Do not come to me with half-truths or false claims unless you are willing and able to back them up.’’

For a few beats, all seemed to freeze in place, as the armed intruder and the master of the house glared each other down in a tense stand-off.

‘’Well shit, give us the permission to go through your land then.’’

‘’And you shall have it.’’ Pitch said, as he nodded his head towards the still wildly struggling Jack. ‘’After you unhand my property.’’

Jack stumbled a few steps forwards, as the one holding him roughly showed him forwards less than a beat after he had allowed him back on his feet. Pitch did not spare him a glance, the molten gold now staying firmly locked onto the one carrying the rifle and while neither spoke, Jack heard the question in his head all the same.

Where is she?

The tone did not sound accusing, just matter of factly. If these brutes were truly going to go through, then Jack would have to trust that Pitch would not rat her out and if he did, then he would do all in his power to buy her enough time to flee.

Cellar. Jack thought back as loudly as he could. Backroom where the root fruits are stored.

Pitchs gaze briefly seemed far away, and, as the master of the house hummed low in a contemplating manner, Jack wondered if he was in fact conversing with someone else as well.

A tad curtly, Pitch nodded once to the one with the rifle.

‘’Do what you must.’’

--

‘’You can't send her back!’’ Jack, hours later, all out howled, as he kept his clenched fists by his sides and followed after the stern-looking Pitch. He did not exactly understand how the uninvited trio had not found her, but he supposed that the sneering other had had a finger in it.

As they had scouted through and eventually gone down the steep stairs to the cellars, said cellars had been empty and, except for the door where one of the three had kept a careful watch over, there were no other way out.

‘’You can’t.’’

Right in front of him, Pitch kept going, his strides long and fast enough that Jack had to halfheartedly jog in order to keep up.

‘’Of course not, they would hang you if I did.’’ The master of the house clipped, as he shook his head slightly. ‘’You could at least have changed your clothes.’’ He said, though it did not sound as if he was still speaking to Jack. ‘’Seven hells, what a mess.’’

The door at the end of the hallway that they had made it through made a harsh clap as Pitch shoved it open with enough force to make it collide and bounce against the wall – the thick shadows dancing around him, as he strode through and continued ahead.

As to where exactly he was headed, Jack had no clue.

‘’And what would you have done?’’ He pressed. ‘’If this was you and you found your daughter in a place like that, what would you have done?’’

Jack felt something semi-solid snake up both of his arms and legs then, the dark tendrils closing in around him moments before it squeezed him tight. At once, and just as Pitch clasped his hands behind his back and spun to further pin him in place with a scorching glare, Jack found that he could not move.

‘’You are permanently banned from leaving the property.’’ Pitch clipped, as he seemed to will himself a deep, grounding breath – his shoulders shaking with obvious tension, as his sneer grew wider.

‘’Wait no, that’s-‘’

‘’-Since obviously, the responsibility of freedom is too much for you to handle.’’ The master of the house continued regardless of the others complaints.

‘’But-‘’ Jack tried before cutting himself short. He knew that he was not going to win this one and so, while gritting his teeth, he decided to focus on what was important for the time being. ‘’What are you going to do with her?’’ He asked instead, as he strained against his dark binds.

‘’It is not safe for her here. If they find her or you with her, then again, you hang, and quite frankly, I do not want that on my conscience.’’

‘’Oh please, it’s not like you had much of a conscience to begin with.’’ Jack scoffed back, to which the other narrowed his eyes to slits and somehow managed to glare even harder.

‘’Such a rude little thing you are.’’ Pitch practically growled, before he started to turn and continued down the hallway that they had been going through. ‘’I truly must be cursed to have to bear with such an impolite presence.’’

‘’My sister.’’ Jack pressed again, just as he felt the pressure around him grow slack enough for him to follow in the others wake again. ‘’What are you going to do?’’

Whatever the answer was, Jack never got it – the terrified wailing ahead now quite obvious to him, as they neared a door that led into one of the small reading rooms. Swiftly, he sprinted past the other and pressed the creaked door open. Emma was crying hysterically in Pippas’ arms, her eyes red and puffy as she, clearly startled by the noise from Jacks sudden entrance, looked up in fright. He had less than a moment to get down on one knee and spread his arms out, before she bolted out of Pippas grip and threw herself at him.

‘’It’s alright.’’ Jack gently shushed her, holding her tight as she continued to cry and let out sporadic, choked sobs. ‘’It’s quite alright now, you’re safe.’’

In front of him, Pippa gazed up and while he could not see it, Jack reckoned that Pitch had gestured for her to take her leave. Calmly, she stood, her hands a tad shaky, as she brushed them down over her vest and then strode around the two still on the ground.

Whatever words she shared with Pitch, Jack did not hear them.

‘’I would advise you to use this time wisely.’’ The master of the house said, as he strode to the tall window in the room and stood in front of it. ‘’She will be sent to live with an acquaintance of mine, so do make sure to say your goodbyes.’’

‘’No.’’ Jack practically hissed, as he clutched Emma closer, to which the other hummed low in a contemplating manner.

‘’You really do seem to possess the idea that you have any say in these matters.’’ Pitch said, right as Jack felt his sister stem her little hands against his chest and shove away. Barely, he managed to catch her around the middle and draw her back, before she could pounce on Pitch.

‘’Get away from him you meanie!’’ Emma, looking quite the very picture of defiance, cried, as she kept her fists clenched tightly at her sides, cheeks red and chest puffed out, as she glared up at the other.

‘’Em no.’’ Jack tried as softly as he could, as he hugged her tighter and did his best to keep her at bay. ‘’Please don’t.’’

‘’I see it runs in the family.’’ Pitch said on a voice that sounded as unimpressed as he looked, before he shook his head and redirected his attention out towards what was visible of the snowy courtyard from the window that he was standing at. ‘’I will give you an hour. No more, no less. Make with it as you will, but mark my words, if you try to run off with her, then I will send her right back. You understand the consequences of such an action, yes?’’

For a tense beat, Jack simply stared up at the back of Pitchs head. Slowly, Emma calmed in his arms, but it was hardly much.

‘’I do.’’

‘’Good.’’

--

It was childish to spite Pitch for what had occurred, Jack knew that and still, he could not seem to stop himself.

A week, in which he did not quite register what he was doing, passed by in a haze. Each day seemed to blend into the next, his tasks fair but hardly anything worth remembering, as he just willed himself to get the work for each day done.

--

It was late at night, so late in fact, that only Claude and Jack himself were awake after a prolonged game of cards taking place in a small tearoom close to the entrance, when they got an uninspected knock at the mansions great doors. Swiftly, after the insistent pounding had commenced for long enough for them to be certain that it was not just the wind kicking up a racket again, the pair had abruptly put their activity down and all but sprinted to let whoever it was, in.

‘’Are we-‘’ Claude started, just as Pitch, no doubt haven hastily made his way straight from his office, joined them at the doors.

‘’We are not expecting anyone at the time no.’’ The master of the house said, as he gestured for the two others to take their places beside and in front of them. Pitch lowered his head slightly as he glanced over at Claude, his hairless brow lifting in an unvoiced question, to which the other, no doubt haven understood what was being asked, briefly let his concealed steel flicker in his broad hand.

Armed. Claude was armed with a crude and clearly worn hunter’s knife.

But of course, Jack thought as he eyed the blade, before it was put away again with expert ease - whoever the uninspected, late night visitor was, they had no direct way of telling if they were friendly or not.

Pitch, back straight, shoulders squared, nodded once in Jacks direction then, and Jack, obediently, while very pointently refusing to meet the others gaze, strode forwards to open up one of the doors. This way, he quickly realized, Claude, while not yet visible for their newcomer, would be the closest if the need for interception arose, while Jack himself, since he was the weakest of the three, was now well protected behind a perfect, wooden barrier.

Immediately, a great flurry of snow drifted in through the opened crack, the chill of it obvious, as the master of the house had to narrow his eyes a tad against the harsh breeze of it.

‘’Would you welcome a weary traveler in?’’ A soft, unfamiliar voice asked and beside Jack, Claude seemed to stand up just a little straighter. ‘’It is quite an unpleasant weather to be out in.’’

Pitch seemed strained as he offered their newcomer a small, quite obviously fake smile, but fuck it - when did he not look so?

‘’Of course.’’

‘’Thank you.’’ The other laughed in delight, as he, it showed out to be, strode far enough in so that Jack could quietly close the door behind him and the two others accompanying him. ‘’So, I heard that you had a bit of trouble with the collectors?’’ The newcomer, with cheeks and nose red from cold, asked, as he rubbed at his arms in order to get the blood flowing. Judging from the tone, the two already knew each other. ‘’I hope it was nothing too serious?’’

‘’A simple misunderstanding.’’ Pitch replied with a shake of the head. ‘’It is taken care of.’’

‘’Lovely.’’ The other beamed on a gleeful tone, as he stepped a bit further into the warmth of the mansions entrance. ‘’Now would one of you two take my coat? It is quite heavy from all the dreadful snow that we have been going through.’’ He asked and immediately, Jack stepped forwards.

‘’Right away sir.’’ Jack said with a cheeky grin, as he accepted the soaked garment. ‘’I’m kinda new to this though, so I hope it’s not too much to ask for your name?’’

‘’oh!’’ The newcomer laughed, as he gave him a quick onceover and waved a dismissive hand at him. ‘’At ease kid, it is no offense at all.’’ He said, as briefly, he let his eyes travel out to gaze at the artful pieces littering the entrances’ walls and ceiling. ‘’It is a pleasure to meet you.’’ He said, as he looked back down at Jack with a fond smile. ‘’The name is Jamie.’’

‘’Jack, sir.’’ Jack offered back, as he gave a slight bow and beside him, Pitch downright glowered.

Perfect, Jack thought, as he briefly locked eyes with the others burning gold and silver. All he knew was that this new guest seemed nice and if the fact that Jack was already getting along with him pissed Pitch off, then that suited him just fine.

‘’Now, I hate to keep you all up at such a late hour, but if I may ask for a bit of bread for my companions?’’

‘’Of course.’’ Pitch replied, as he held out a hand and gestured for Jamie to follow him in. ‘’I believe Claude will be more than willing to fetch a bit to my office and in the meantime, I can show you to your rooms?’’

‘’If you please.’’ Jamie said back, just as Claude lowered his head in a nod and abruptly left to do as he was told. ‘’Quite the impressive display you put on around here.’’ Jamie continued, as he followed after the thin-lipped Pitch. ‘’Always been really, but tell, is that one knew?’’ He asked, as he gestured to a statue, to which Pitch nodded curtly.

Whatever his following reply was however, the two had already made it too far down the hallway for Jack to hear. A tad idly, he glanced down at the garment in his hands, before finding that a small, genuine smile, the first in a week really, kept trying to tug at his lip.

Swiftly, Jack gave in and let it split over his features, before he too stalked off to finish his small task for the night being.

Chapter Text

With a gleam in his eye and sleep still heavy in his bones, Jack got up far earlier than everyone else and set about to prepare himself an early breakfast. Now, with the sun way past the line of the brightening horizon, he, while wandering the still empty halls of the dark mansion, found himself wondering as to why no one else, expect for their late night arrivals’ own, seemed awake as well. Broody, they were. Thick headed and clearly not the type for light conversation and so, Jack trod on quick, as he passed them by.

Two hours later however, the first signs of life finally dared to show itself.

--

‘’Rough sleep?’’ Jack asked, as he gave Claude a quick once-over, to which the other gruffed a low hum of acknowledgement.

‘’The worst.’’ The man answered back on a voice rich with annoyance, as he scratched rather vigorously at his eye. ‘’Barely got any at all, but here we are.’’ He grumbled, as he moved his hand up to rake it through his unruly hair. ‘’Just gotta get through with this day. Get through and get this nit of a shit-show over with before it can get any worse than it already is.’’

‘’That bad huh?’’ Jack grinned back, as they made their way out towards the stables in order to care for Jamie’s horses and, in Claude’s case, further out into the fields. ‘’Good luck with it I guess?’’

‘’Yeah whatever. Just remember to be on your best, godsdamned behavior around that little bastard.’’ Claude, not seeming to have the energy nor the mood for casual chatting, grumbled under his breath, before they both fell into a slightly tense silence.

Throughout the entire proceeding day, Jack did not see a single soul around or within the mansion itself.

It was eerie to say the least.

--

Preparing dinner, though Jack was only allowed to assist with cutting and slicing potatoes and other veggies, was usually a quite delightful experience. Preparing it when they had one of Jamies servants staring them down and observing their every move however, now that was a bit of an awkward experience all together. Quietly, the servant sat in one of their kitchen chairs and stared them down as they worked.

It was weird to say the least. Unfamiliar and uncomfortably, and quite honestly, it oozed of paranoia and a need for control, though for what purpose, Jack did not fully understand. Either that, or the man had simply grown bored of whatever conversation his brethren had been engaged in and decided to put his terrifying scowl to good use instead.

Still, if anything, it was effective in its own passive way and not a single word was spoken between the dark mansions own staff throughout the entire process of it.

--

‘’So,’’ Jamie started on a delighted tune, as he clasped his hands in front of his chest and looked over each of the prepared items laid out for him ‘’I hope this is as good as your last serving?’’

‘’Be my judge.’’ A sour-looking Pitch offered back on a voice just polite enough that it could not quite count as a mock, as he gestured for the other to help himself to the presented food. Beside the master of the house, with their backs to the wall and heads slightly bowed, all five of the mansions servants were lined up neatly and on the other end, Jamies own were as well.

‘’Are we seriously just going to watch them eat?’’ Jack hissed, as low as he could, to which Cupcake leaned down slightly, the motion barely there, as she turned her head enough to whisper back.

‘’It is common custom yes, so yeah, we fucking gotta.’’

‘’That’s bullshit.’’

‘’I know.’’

Toothiana had not insisted on such a thing, when she had visited, but what was it that Pitch had said when they had first met? There was such a thing as differences between classes?

Lame.

Jack leaned his head back against the wall, his posture still straight and attentive, as he willed himself not to scoff aloud at the absurdity of it all. Perhaps, this was the reason as to why the gloomy servant had been watching them closely throughout the evening. Perhaps, it really was as such and though Jack knew that his train of thought would get him nowhere, he could not help but wonder what would have happened if any of them had tried to eat, before the two holders themselves had gotten their share.

‘’Is this why Monty smacked my hand away from the grapes back in the kitchen?’’ Jack whispered, just as Pitchs molten gold sent him a withering glare.

Okay, so perhaps his whispering was a tad less discrete than he had thought, but come on, none of them had eaten since noon and judging from the slight dark of the outside that was at least seven hours ago.

‘’Yep. Claude lost a finger last time he did that, so… You know.’’ Cupcake rasped back. Jack felt his brow furrow, as he found himself glancing over at Jamies gentle features. Perhaps the others methods were old school at best, but he had been quite kind so far. Strict, yes, but such a punishment seemed beneath him. Surely, what had happened to Claude had been another guests’ doing?

‘’What happened?’’ Jack asked, as he ignored Pitchs insistent stares, to which he got a subtle shake of the head back.

‘’I’ll explain later.’’ Cupcake said, before she glanced over at Claude. ‘’If the one it happened to is cool with it of course.’’

That seemed reasonable and Jack voiced as much.

‘’Fair enough.’’

The two fell silent for a good while, before this time, Pippa turned her head slightly to whisper to Jack.

‘’You might wanna go straight to bed after this.’’ She stressed.

‘’But what about dinner?’’ Jack asked, to which the other shook her head slow.

‘’The halls aren’t safe at night love.’’ Pippa pressed. ‘’Not right now.’’

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Jack felt the already visible crease between his brows deepen further, as his gaze once more traveled onto the gruff servant that had watched them work.

‘’He’s unpredictable at best. Just don’t take the chance.’’

Somehow, Jack did not doubt that, but damn well if that was going to stop him.

‘’Frost, I’m being serious.’’

‘’I won’t do anything stupid.’’

Pippa coughed low, and if it sounded as though she had to cover up for a low huff, none of the other gathered commented on it.

‘’Just promise me to be careful. Go straight to bed and we can all get together for pie and almonds in the morning.’’

He had no idea as to what an almond was, but the rest sounded great.

‘’I will.’’

He did not.

--

Little over an hour later, with a stomach full of lead and a head full of pain, Jack stumbled through the halls of the mansion at random. Despite it being night, somehow, the place altogether seemed lighter than he remembered it. Around and below him, the shadows clung less thickly around his feet and as he looked up, he noticed small, now previously undetected details in the golden edges of the carved woodwork.

It was strange to say the least. Not bad as per say, but it did make him feel slightly off-center.

At the end of the hallway that he was going through, footsteps sounded, and at once, Jacks gaze snapped down to see who it was. Immediately, he felt his shoulders relax, as he locked eyes with a sleepy-looking Jamie. Apparently, the other had been about to continue further into the hallway in front of himself, but, as he had noticed Jack standing where he was, he turned and stalked down the one Jack was in instead.

‘’Evening sir.’’ Jack greeted with a small bow, to which the other laughed low in delight.

‘’As to you as well.’’ Jamie smiled back, as he came close enough to give him a quick once-over. ‘’Say, you were the new kid, yes?’’ He asked, behind a stifled yawn, to which Jack nodded once. ‘’Fancy that. Now I hate to intrude, but I am not quite tired enough to sleep as of yet. Would you care for a midnight stroll around the plains?’’

Awfully polite chatter for his taste, but sure, that sounded fine by him.

‘’Great!’’ Jamie chimed, as Jack voiced as much. ‘’Now, pray tell, where do you go if you wish to have a little privacy?’’ He asked with a slight raise of his brow. ‘’As is it, it seems the polite master of this place is not overly fond of me mingling with you common folk.’’ He said, to which Jack barely managed to suppress an irked scoff.

‘’Nah I guess he’s not.’’ Jack grumbled under his breath, before he gestured out at the hallway in front of them and then a tad to the right. ‘’Most of this wing is usually vacant sir, so you’ve pretty much got the place to yourself.’’

‘’Fantastic.’’ Jamie hummed, before they both started down the way that Jack had originally been headed.

‘’So, what do you do all day sir?’’ Jack asked, as he let the other set the general pace and direction.

‘’Mostly paperwork really. There is a lot to take care of when you own as much land as I do.’’ Jamie said, before letting out a slow sigh. ‘’It is mostly all work and little play. It is quite a bore if I must be completely honest with you.’’

‘’So you don’t get to go out often? Like this, I mean. Visiting others and doing… whatever it is that you are doing right now.’’ Jack asked, before he swiftly added another, slightly belated ‘sir’, to which the other chuckled low.

‘’I am not a complete shut-in if that is what you are asking but I suppose I do feel a bit like a hermit at times.’’ He admitted. ‘’If a hermit can be surrounded by people all the time that is.’’

‘’So like,’’ Jack started on a thoughtful note, just as Jamie glanced back over his shoulder ‘’you can be completely surrounded by people but you still feel alone sir?’’ He tried, to which the other nodded a tad stiffly.

‘’Exactly.’’ Jamie replied. ‘’Do not get me wrong, I adore the people I have with me, but they are… how do I put this politely.’’ He hummed. ‘’Not the most entertaining crowd.’’

Strange, Jack thought, as Jamie once more glanced over his shoulder and seemed to listen intensely for something. For someone who claimed to not know his way around, it sure did feel as if he was being led somewhere.

‘’Nah I get that sir.’’ Jack replied, just as he felt a strange nervousness start to creep through his bones. Swiftly, he blamed it on the slight hunger that was still far more present in him than he cared to admit to. ‘’It’s like people look at you, but they aren’t really seeing you, you know?’’ If he remembered correctly, then they would come upon a small winter garden soon. The place was gorgeous, full of lilies and other delicate flowers that really should not have been able to survive so far into the winter, but for now, they still bloomed.

Indeed, the place was a marvel, but it was also located in one of the much less frequented areas – far away from the main halls of the mansion itself.

‘’I suppose I understand your point yes.’’ Jamie said, just as they rounded the corner and ahead, the first hint of the lilies in question started to show. ‘’Though for our instances, we are not quite made from the same material.’’

‘’Social norms don’t really change that much just because you’re a higher up though.’’ Jack stressed, as he willed the insistent dread to calm within him. ‘’Loneliness doesn’t skip you just because you’re rich sir.’’ He said, to which the other hummed softly.

‘’Well look at you being poetic.’’ Jamie grumbled in a voice that sounded anything but amused.

‘’I… Meant no offense sir.’’ Jack tried, to which the other threw him a half-smirk. Beside them, as the pale light from the moon shone in and lighted up the hallway, it made the others features seem almost inhuman, and, as the others smirk widened up into a full on wolfs grin, Jack could not help but freeze dead in his tracks.

‘’None taken.’’ Jamie said, as he too stopped and once more gave Jack an once-over.

Oh, he had taken offense to that all right. None of the gentle traces seemed left and while Jamie might value his privacy, something about the entire aspect of what had transpired throughout the last eight minutes of their short walk seemed off.

‘’Perhaps,’’ Jack started, as he absently took a small step back, his front now half turned away from the other, as he braced himself for whatever would come ‘’it is better if I head to bed now sir. We have a long day ahead and… all that…’’ He said before trailing off.

Something was wrong. Totally and utterly wrong and sure enough, as Jack took another small step back, Jamie followed with his larger own.

‘’I am not quite tired.’’

‘’But I am sir.’’

‘’And so what, I am supposed to retire because you tell me so?’’

‘’That is-‘’

What the hell was happening?

‘’That is what exactly?’’ Jamie hummed on a voice that sounded rich with mock, as he followed Jack step for step and by now, the latter had finally realized that he had been cornered. The door behind him, which led out into the farthest parts of the courtyard, was locked and so, instead, he swiftly eyed the chilled glass of the slide door beside them.

He doubted that he could outrun the other, but he could damn well try.

‘’I am asking you a question here.’’ Jamie spat out on a near hiss, just as Jack forced himself to stop in his retreat before he found himself with his back pressed up against the door now a mere meter behind. With as much of his fleeting courage put behind his words, he squared his shoulders and willed himself to sound far calmer than he truly felt.

‘’I’m leaving.’’

‘’No, you are not.’’

‘’Yes, I am.’’

Just exactly how far away from the main areas were they? Would he be heard if he screamed? Would anyone even be awake to hear?

‘’Strip.’’

‘’What?’’ Jack could not help but splutter, as the absurd command caught up with him.

‘’Do I truly need to repeat myself boy?’’ Jamie hummed, eyes narrowing, as he tilted his head slightly at the other. ‘’An order is an order. Get on with it.’’

It was almost a relief when the deep-seated anger that had been a constant from his days in the cage settled back in and idly, Jack welcomed it in like an old, long-lost friend. With his hands clenching into fists at his sides and his jaw grit, he lowered his head to glare at the other. He knew that he had no real strength to his name or no authority for that matter, but within these walls, he still had rights and this, he knew, hardly seemed legal.

‘’No.’’

‘’I beg your pardon?’’

‘’I said no.’’

Jack flinched, as the other barked a short, glee-filled laugh. Barely, he had managed to duck low in order to try to make a run for it, when a crude arm caught around his throat and squeezed hard.

‘’You are in no position to say no to me.’’ Jamie huffed and practically, Jack could taste the constant ash and cinnamon still so heavy in the air, as his front was pressed further into the wall that he had just been shoved up against. A hand ran through his white hair, the fingers reaching and digging in, before it fisted and drew his head back.

‘’So young.’’ Jamie purred, as he pressed his nose to the side of Jacks neck and gently nipped at it. ‘’So feisty.’’

‘’What are you-‘’ Jack started, before the harsh scrape of teeth raking down over his delicate skin made him stop short. In a mix of surprise and pain, he yelped, as the other bit down.

‘’Stop struggling.’’ Jamie near growled, his voice laced with annoyance, as Jack tried to stomp on his foot in defiance.

‘’Fuck no, this is- stop it godsdammit!’’ Jack, slightly happy when his voice did not come out weak, cried, just as he was shoved harder into the wall. ‘’Get off me!’’

Despite his gentle appearance, Jamie was deceivingly strong, and Jack, much to his obvious dismay, could feel it, as the other pressed and moved against him. Roughly, after he had tried to reach back and scratch at the others face, his wrist was caught in a stern grip and moments later, he found his right hand to be wrenched behind his back.

He doubted that he would be heard, but he had to try regardless. Jack felt his throat burn, chest constricting, just as his roar was cut short, as the rough hand still in his hair drew his head back and then smacked it hard into the wall. Momentarily, as Jamie kissed at his neck, he found himself stunned by the impact of it.

‘’Scream like that again and I will make sure that you lose the ability for good.’’ Jamie hissed, as finally, he untangled his hand from the others white locks and nudged a knee in between Jacks thighs to spread them. The sound, as the buttons of his vest came undone one by one, was subtle and yet it sounded deafening to his own ringing ears. ‘’Just stay still boy.’’

‘’I’m not a boy you dimwitted pleb.’’ Jack hissed with as much spite as he could possibly muster. Increasingly, and just as Jamie wedged his free hand in under his shirt and pulled it up to expose his pale skin, he had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly who had him pinned. If anything, it would explain why the others had been avoiding the halls all day and why Pitch had allowed it.

‘’Stop it.’’ Jack wheezed breathlessly, as the others hand continued its exploration, the unwanted touch insistent and quickly traveling downwards, dipping into his navel, before a tongue flicked out and licked up the side of his neck.

‘’Stop it.’’ Jack tried again, his tone bordering on begging, as he squeezed his eyes shut. ‘’Please just stop this.’’ Cold sweat broke out – the others chuckle wet and warm, the breath of it ghosting over the shell of his reddened ear, as the offending hand continued further down and started working on getting his pants open.

‘’No.’’ Jamie hummed, just as Jack let out a small whine of despair and started trashing in order to get away. ‘’I want this.’’

This is happening, this is real, this is actually-

‘’Jamie.’’ A dry voice spoke up behind them and Jack could cry from relief. Actually, he was fairly sure that he already was. ‘’I believe that you can find other ways to entertain yourself.’’ The master of the house said, just as Jack managed to twist himself enough to glance over Jamies shoulder to see an unimpressed Pitch standing with his hands clasped behind his slightly hunched back. ‘’One-‘’ he continued while pinning Jamie in place with the coldest gaze that Jack had seen to date. ‘’-That does not include defiling my staff.’’

Jack felt a welcome chill wrap around him, as finally, Jamie stepped back and let him go.

‘’Oh if I must.’’ He said casually, laughing heartedly, as he straightened out his clothes and offered up a bright smile, as though he had not just been about to fuck Jack against a wall.

‘’Yes.’’ Pitch replied dryly, just as Jack, while feeling his entire frame shake, managed to stumble a step away from his offender and back towards what he knew was safety. ‘’You must.’’

‘’Well then, I shall see you in the morning Pitchiner?’’ Jamie said, as he stepped further back and adjusted the collar of his shirt, to which the master of the house huffed.

‘’Indeed.’’ Pitch spat and quickly strode forward, grabbing Jacks arm, before he started to lead him down the hallway, back towards the main area and most importantly, away from the other.

‘’Sweet dreams.’’ Jamie called after them.

‘’As to you.’’ Pitch offered, though it hardly sounded sincere.

--

It seemed as if an eternity passed, before his holder shoved Jack into his office and closed the door behind them. Highly, he felt lost, as Pitch all but jerked his chair out and sat down in it, picked up his feather and fiercely scrawled away at the paper below. Jack felt frozen in place, as he kept smoothing the front of his shirt down, fingers shaking, as he watched Pitch’ own move as though in a trance.

Slowly but surely, the reality of what had just occurred, or almost occurred, hit him with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

He could not breathe. It felt as if his heart had been replaced by a stone, the organ deadweight, heavy as lead, as it beat a quick tattoo against his hurting ribcage. He directed his blurred gaze at the floor instead then, as he felt a wave of icy regret creep in through his shoulders and settle deep into the pit of his empty stomach.

Why had this happened? Jack thought, as he bit the inside of his cheek hard. All of it seemed so absurd; this had not happened, it could not have-

As he felt the inside of his cheek start to bleed from how hard he was biting down on it, Jack squeezed his eyes shut, the first fresh tear trailing down his reddened cheek, as he willed himself to cut his own frantic musings short.

It had happened. It was real and he had done this to himself. Idly, he registered the sound of the scrape of the chair, as it was pushed back - his holders’ boots heavy, as Pitch got up and stalked close again.

This was his own fault. He had been warned, had he not?

‘’Jack.’’

The sound of his own name was loud in the room, as he felt a pair of hands settle lightly onto each of his trembling shoulders, the pressure barely there, but just enough to give a hint of a comforting touch.

‘’I need you to take a deep breath.’’

It burned all the way, as he gulped down air greedily in small, quick bursts of rapid succession and in response, he felt the points of pressure on his shoulders increase, as Pitch gently squeezed in order to get him to focus. Then, Jack felt it rattle in his throat, as he finally managed a single, shallow breath. He knew that it was far from enough, but the little hum of praise from above told him otherwise.

‘’Hold it.’’

Obediently, he did so, and as he was told to release it, his shoulders finally collapsed from the extended tension. As his holder patiently guided him through the exercise thrice, Jack snaked his arms around to hug himself close, just as the first sob tore itself free and startled him with how wrecked it sounded. In front, the texture of Pitchs’ embroidered coat was rough against his forehead, as he leaned forwards and hid his face in it. The tension was still there, as he freely cried and fought to get his breath under control, but it was getting manageable.

‘’Good.’’ Pitch praised regardless of the obvious hicks in the others rhythm.

Fuck, he could not stop trembling. Jacks voice was small and scared, slightly muffled, as he hunched his shoulders.

‘’I didn't want this.’’

‘’I know.’’

Barely, he could get the words to come, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak, but regardless, he pressed through. Still, he realized the irony that he had resorted to frantically fisting his hands into the rich coat of the very individual that he had tried to spite only hours before.

‘’I'm sorry.’’ Jack said, just as he felt one of the hands still shielding him move up and settle in his hair, the claws careful, mindful of their sharp edges, as they traced soothing patterns into it.

‘’It is not your fault.’’

The hand released him a beat before Jack stemmed his own hard against the others chest and shoved away from him. Vigorously, he rubbed his shaky palms over his face and eyes to clear them, Jack swallowing thickly, as he shook his head and stepped back further.

What the hell am I doing?

The meat of said palms pressed against his closed eyelids, as he stood stock-still and idly, he registered the retreating footfalls, as Pitch moved away from him again. The scrape of the chair sounded and just like that, with the small, moist spots still lingering in the dark fabric on Pitchs chest being the only proof that it had even happened, they were back to their regular show of imbalance. Angrily, the master of the house resumed his swift writing, just as Jack let his hands drop and fisted them in an attempt to stop the insistent shaking.

It did not work.

‘’I am not fond of having him here either.’’ Pitch clipped, just as he finished whatever sentence he had been working on. ‘’Believe me, I would rather have him gone.’’ He said and in response, Jack felt a wave of fresh anger sweep in and cloud his senses and dearly, he welcomed it in.

Truly, he would rather feel anything but that horrible guilt that kept nagging at him.

‘’With all due respect, then why the fuck would you keep him here?’’ Jack rasped, as he used the end of his sleeve to wipe at his eye again. ‘’Why even let him in in the first place?’’

‘’It is complicated.’’ Pitch replied, as he put his feather down again and leaned back in his chair. ‘’It keeps certain... affairs in balance that are too fragile to disrupt.’’

‘’And why the fuck is it so?’’

Pitch looked about ready to murder the papers in front of him if that was indeed possible and seemingly, as he growled low and rubbed at his temples, it was taking his all to stay calm as well.

That… Honestly made him feel better.

‘’Because we cannot say no to the earl.’’

Jack felt the world come to a screeching halt, his voice loud and cracking in the middle, as he pointed a crude, trembling finger at the door behind him.

‘’That, is the fucker you all been talking about?’’ He half shouted, as the implications of what the ludicrous notion meant hit him. ‘’That sad, sorry excuse for a human being?’’ He spat, to which Pitchs lip twitched in equal anger.

‘’Keep your voice down.’’

‘’And why the fuck would I do that?’’

‘’Because you have no idea what he is capable off.’’

‘’He nearly just-‘’ Jack cried, before he cut himself off abruptly. He did not want to say it – no, that would make it real. ‘’Give me a dagger.’’ He growled low instead. ‘’Give me a fucking dagger and I’ll put an end to this.’’ He knew that he was crying anew but cared for it none.

‘’It is not that simple.’’

‘’Bullshit, of course it is.’’ Jack hissed. ‘’He bleeds. He can die just like anyone else.’’

A tense silence settled then, before the master of the house sighed slow, his eyes falling closed for a beat, before he seemed to will himself a deep, grounding breath.

‘’This should not have happened, I should have warned you proper.’’ Pitch said on a tune that sounded genuinely apologetic, to which Jack shook his head.

‘’Don’t try and redirect the subject Pitch.’’ He pressed, just as he met the others glare head-on. Finally, it dawned on him that he felt no fear from the act and briefly, he could not help but wonder if their unwanted guests’ influence had chased away the shadows too. ‘’What is he?’’ Jack asked. ‘’What is he since you won’t let me go and do what should be done?’’

In front, the dark claws drummed over the tables’ rough surface, as Pitch seemed to mule on whether or not to answer honestly.

‘’A monster.’’ He finally offered back, to which Jack scoffed rather harshly.

‘’No shit.’’ He clipped back, to which Pitch shook his head once.

‘’You do not understand.’’

‘’Oh I understand just fine-‘’

The molten gold might not cause him any fright for the moment being, but the others sudden rise and approaching presence sure did. Swiftly, Jack lowered his gaze with another grit back scoff and in front, Pitch slowed when he realized that he had spooked the other.

Jack jolted, when the others firm palms once more settled onto his shoulders. Idly, his blurry eyes narrowed and glared the denied daggers into the rich embroidery of Pitchs chest instead, as he worried his quivering bottom lip between his teeth.

‘’Would you look at me?’’ The master of the house asked and a tad reluctantly, Jack did so after a beat. ‘’Do not attempt to end him.’’ Pitch said as he once more pressed down lightly on each of his thin shoulders. ‘’You might not believe my wish for your safety, but please, try to understand this - if you make an attempt on his life, then…’’ He said before trailing off and momentarily, he seemed lost in an old, terrible memory of his. ‘’I will have to bear witness to whatever method he sees fit to… correct you with.’’

‘’Not if he’s dead you won’t.’’

‘’Jack.’’ Pitch said on a sigh that sounded tired beyond his years, his shoulders hunching slightly, as he once more straightened up and let the other go. ‘’Do you truly believe that I have not tried to see to it so?’’

‘’I-‘’ Jack, genuinely surprised, tried, before cutting himself short as the words died in his mouth. No. No, he had not thought of such at all. Still lost for words, he gave a shaky nod back instead, though as to what he was agreeing to, he was not all too certain.

‘’Just know that we need to stay on his good side. We must.’’ Pitch pressed, as he turned and strode to a finely crafted cabinet in the corner of the small office. ‘’That man is lethal when he gets in a mood.’’

Oh, he did not doubt that.

The cabinets’ door swung open on perfectly silent hinges, before the master of the house reached in and retrieved two pristinely white rags and a small, green flask with red eggs painted onto it, out of it. The latter seemed an awfully colourful item in the else dark office and in between the claws that Pitch carefully held it in, it seemed like such a tiny thing. Swiftly, and as he stalked back to the puzzled-looking other, Pitch managed to get hold of the small lid of it and opened it up. As the cool rag was unceremoniously pressed to his neck, Jack flinched and jerked away from the sting of it.

‘’Pardon.’’ Pitch hummed, before Jack, still puzzled, nodded and once more stepped back within the others reach.

‘’But why is… why?’’ He tried, as his holder worked on getting the bitter-scenting salve into the aching side of Jacks neck.

‘’You were bitten.’’

‘’Oh.’’

Right. That. Quietly, Jack nodded and left it at such.

‘’Now of course, this is not something that I will force on you, but if you wish, you may stay the night in here.’’

It seemed childish, but the mere thought of leaving the small office, Jack swiftly realized, sent him on edge and so no, he would much rather stay right where he was. A moment later, Pitch hummed low to himself, as he wiped his hand on the second rag and put both of the now used ones and the bottle itself away, before he gestured at the chair that Jack had been shown to quite a few times before already.

‘’Stay put for the moment then.’’

Jack nodded, just as Pitch shoved past him, the click of the door subtle, but still sending a jolt of unwanted fright through him, as the master of the house left. Indeed, the panic was still there just beneath his anger, but he did not want to approach it just yet.

He felt restless, jittery and on edge and with heat taking to his cheeks, as he laced his pants back up, before going around to curl up into the chair that he had been gestured to. Like this, left alone for the moment being and with nothing else to focus on, he happened to glance at the papers that Pitch had been working on and while he could not read the words themselves, the others anger was still clearly visible regardless.

How hard did one need to press in order to cut through both the fibers of the papers and then permanently into the hard wood of the table itself? He had no clue, but he was a tad impressed by it.

Jack really was not the only one angry then. He had known that, but the physical embodiment of it seemed to cement the notion further. Still, he wondered, as he dug the sharp edges of his nails into his upper arms - just how much did it hurt for Pitch to have to house the one who had taken his own daughter away from him?

Perhaps… perhaps he really was as trapped as the rest of them in this.

With a jolt, Jack sat up in his seat, heart in his throat, as he spun to glance over at the door that had just opened again, before swiftly, he got up and helped Pitch get the small couch that he had been dragging with him into the already packed space of the office.

By the gods, that thing was heavy though, but with their joined efforts, they managed to get it firmly squeezed up against the wall on the opposite side of the fireplace. It barely left any room for Pitch to get around to his own side of the desk, but if anything, the other did not seem overly bothered by it.

Without a word and lost in thought as he seemed, the master of the house handed Jack a blanket from the ornamental chest beneath his desk and a ridiculously soft pillow that he had snatched from gods knew where. With a sigh, Pitch too seemed to realize the state of his table, as he sat down - the dry slide of paper loud, as he got a fresh sheet out and started writing anew.

‘’Pitch?’’ Jack asked after he had curled up on his bed for the night, to which he got a hum of acknowledgement. ‘’Does Jamie ever come in here?’’

Behind and slightly in front, the feather stopped its fierce dance over the paper for all of a beat, before it started up again.

‘’Hardly ever.’’

Jack worried at his lip again, as he stared at the intricate, woven patterns of the couch’ muted fabrics.

‘’Hardly ever as in never or as in sometimes?’’

A dry click sounded, as the feather was put down and intensely, Jack listened, as he waited for the answer. It seemed another small eternity passed, before the reply finally came and when it did, the underlying rage and coldness of it sent a small shiver down his spine.

‘’He will not touch you again.’’

‘’You can’t promise such a thing.’’ Jack pressed, as he fiddled with the edge of his blanket.

‘’Perhaps not.’’ Pitch agreed on a voice that sounded anything but calm and collected and yet, it seemed to ease the worst of Jacks immediate fears. ‘’Perhaps not, but I will do all in my power to stop him.’’

That was good enough for him and pressing the other further on the matter would get them nowhere. He knew that. He knew that and so, while it did take the better half of an hour to find any rest, Jack eventually did drift off to the sound of the others harsh scribbles.

Chapter Text

Fuck this day and all that it was going to bring.

Jack did not want to get up. What was the point of it anyway? He knew that Jamie had planned to spend at least two more days at the mansion and quite honestly, with all of the newfound information that he now had on him, he was not sure if he could face him again.

With a groan, he borrowed deeper down into his blanket, just as the dry flick of the page of a book being turned sounded beside him. As he finally braved himself enough to open his eyes and look over, he found Pitch, who was sporting a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses, to be quietly invested in said book.

It was peculiar really, but Jack found himself almost missing the familiar fear that the others golden gaze brought with it. If anything, it would have been a much-welcomed distraction from whatever it was that his frightened heart was busy doing in the wake of the nights passed events. The moment was broken, as his holder turned his attention back onto the fresh page before him, his eyes rapidly moving over it, as he absently reached out a hand to tug twice on one of the five silvery cords.

Slowly, Jack stretched out on the couch. He was fully dressed. He should have no reason not to rise and while it did not actually seem as if the other would comment on it, he could not help but wonder if Pitch would even care if he did indeed stay in all day.

A few minutes later, Monty came in, a tray balanced on one hand and what appeared to be a letter in the other. Swiftly, the tray was placed on the table, their holder silent, as he put his book down and instead extended a clawed hand to accept what was indeed a letter - the click of the door near silent, as the ghoul stalked out and closed it behind him.

Jack drew a deep breath, as he made up his mind and hoisted himself up with his elbow. Silently, he watched as Pitch opened and read the letter, face set in a frown, as he then grumbled something in that language that Jack could not understand and then, very elegantly, discarded the letter over his shoulder.

‘’Bad news?’’ Jack asked before he could think better of it and immediately, as the other turned his clearly annoyed attention back onto him, he felt himself tense up. Fairly quick though, Pitchs’ gaze softened, the quiet heavy for a beat, before the other circled a hand up beside his head and curled his clawed fingers into a loose fist.

‘’I am afraid so, yes.’’ The master of the house said, as he seemed to decide to humor the other. ‘’Three of our associates have had their supplies eaten away by rats or found their stored crops to be infected by fungi.’’ Pitch said, as he reached out a hand to snatch a small, brown, wood-like oval close from the presented tray in front of him. As he bit into it, it made a dull crunch.

Jack could not help but look him over then. He wore what he had yesterday, hair still perfectly in place and while he did not seem tired, and so, it could not be, Jack felt his brow furrow regardless, as the thought struck him.

Had he even slept?

‘’They are asking for a share of ours.’’

The carpet was slightly cool against his feet, as Jack finally sat up and, before he could lose his courage, clutched the blanket close and stalked over.

‘’And is that something we can help with?’’ He asked, as he sat down and reached out to snatch one of the wood-like pieces from Pitchs personal breakfast close. The texture was slightly dry against his tongue, as he bit it in half and in front, he noted the rise of the others hairless brow, before the master of the house slowly shook his head in what was unmistakably fond amusement. Even if Pitch had seemed to decide to let it slide, Jack would not have cared if he had not - he was simply starving too much as it was already.

‘’No.’’ The master of the house said. ‘’Our own are low as it is. We cannot aid in their needs this time.’’ He said, to which Jack hummed.

He had no clue as to how a shortage of rations usually worked out between neighboring mansions and farms and so, he shrugged, as he stole another of the small ovals. Still, the texture was as dry as the last, but he reckoned that they were not all bad.

‘’I thought that we bought extra in order to have enough though?’’

‘’And if I tell you that the earl has claimed half of our share, will you leave it at that?’’

Jack paused briefly on his fifth of the strange wood-like pieces, before he continued to munch on it at a much slower pace.

‘’Do you actually ever sleep?’’ He asked instead, to which Pitch softly sighed. If anything, it seemed that the other was glad for the change in subject.

‘’Rarely. I do not need rest for quite extended periods of time.’’

Honestly, that explained a few things.

‘’And what do you do in the meantime then?’’ Jack asked, to which Pitch shrugged slightly.

‘’Usually, I read.’’

‘’Fair.’’ Jack grumbled, and, as he mustered up the courage to help himself to the hardboiled eggs, bread and fruits, Pitch allowed it. Minutes passed like that, before the master of the house spoke up again.

‘’Your responsibilities will solely be in the stables today. Adriane needs a proper grooming.’’ He said, to which the other nodded. ‘’And, considering the slightly unique touch to the situation, the occasion and all that has passed-’’ Pitch continued, as he flicked out a hand and lightly smacked Jacks away from the blueberries that he had been about to snatch. Instead, he nudged the grapes closer to the other. ‘’Should I find both her and you to be missing for the time being, then I could quite highly be likely to let it slide.’’

Jack blinked up in surprise, mouth open and paused around the grape that he had been about to bite into.

‘’He stays for two more days yeah?’’ He yapped, before he took a healthy bite out of it, to which Pitch nodded.

‘’Indeed.’’

‘’How far am I allowed to go?’’ Jack asked, to which the other glanced at him over the rim of his glasses.

‘’Officially, to the fence and no further.’’ Pitch said, before he popped a slightly overripe blueberry in his mouth. ‘’But, if I hear from North that you have arrived at his workshop, then so be it.’’

‘’And who is North?’’

‘’It is the one acquaintance of mine that I sent your sister to li-‘’

Already, Jack had sprung up and headed for the door, before Pitch had had time to finish his sentence.

‘’Jack!’’

Idly, with his heart hammering anew in his chest, Jack froze and spun just in time to see Pitch bend and place a clawed hand on the lid of the ornamental chest beneath his desk. A small creak sounded as he opened it - the black, handed over coat with a rich fur trim far too big for the younger, but necessary against the cold, as the master of the house held it out for him to take.

‘’No more than four days absence. There will be consequences if you stray for longer.’’ Pitch clipped, just as Jack went back and accepted the garment. It was heavy in his grip - at least half an arms-length too long for him and he just knew that it would look ridiculous on him but honestly? He could not wait.

‘’Tell Adriane the destination and she will take you there. She knows the way well on her own.’’

Jack could not help the bright grin that flashed over his face, as he beamed his appreciation up at the other, before he nodded once in obvious glee. He felt giddy by the prospect, as he turned and took off down the hall and then further out towards the stables themselves.

He was going to see his sister!

Chapter Text

The wind blew in his hair, making it unruly and blinding him at random, as he rode on, but, with Adriane steady on her hooves and leading the way, Jack knew that they would be fine. Only twice did she stop along the way to drink from the cold of a wild, running river and now, little over thirteen hours later, Jack, amazed and with little more than a subtle sting of awe in his heart, found his excitement to once more spike, as they approached the broad gold and red gate of the workshop ahead. Already, it was far into the evening, but at least, it seemed most of its occupants were still awake.

‘’Good girl.’’ Jack praised, as the great metal creaked open by itself and allowed them passage. ‘’You did amazing.’’ Below, Adriane panted softly in response, but if she had actually understood the spoken words or not, he had no idea.

Ahead, a young man who introduced himself as Caleb approached and helped Jack get down and once the latter had explained who he was and who he had come to see, he was allowed in through the double doors of the workshop itself. Caleb, as seemed to be the same for the rest of the servants all busily buzzing around inside the entrance of the place, was dressed in black plants and a simple red shirt, where, in Calebs case at least, the top three buttons were undone. Caleb seemed to walk with a slight limp, but easily, he kept a steady pace regardless.

Behind them, sweeping over the sand-coloured tiles like a wave of pure, dark shadow, the end of the coat that Jack had been given dragged after him, and, as he kept glancing up at his current companion, he could not help but notice the striking resemblance that Caleb shared to Claude.

Softly, he voiced as much.

‘’Yeah he’s my twin actually.’’ Caleb said with a fond smile, as he showed Jack through the entrance. The place was massive - far grander than the dark mansion that he had left behind. ‘’It’s a long story but let’s just say that we… well your lill sis and I kinda share the same details as to how we ended up here.’’

‘’So what, Claude stole you away from another holder as well?’’ Jack asked, to which Caleb barked a short, heartedly laugh.

‘’Nah man, not like that. Pitch bought us both outta a shitty situation, but he only had need for one of us and besides, it wasn’t safe for me to stay there, so I had to go.’’ Caleb explained with a slight shrug. ‘’He said we could both come here if we didn’t wanna split, but my bro wanted to stay with that lady-friend of his and so I went on my own.’’

Clearly, there was more to the story, but judging from the tone, Jack found it better not to ask.

‘’Cupcake?’’ He asked instead, as he decided that to be a safe topic to land on.

‘’Yea that sounds about right. How’s she holding up anyway?’’ Caleb asked, and from there, the conversation quickly escalated into a thorough report on each of the dark mansions servants’ general health and likelihood.

Very pointedly, he avoided sharing what had occurred over the past three days.

‘’Good to hear.’’ Caleb said with a small grin, as Jack finished up the chatter. ‘’Real good.’’

Above and up ahead, as they approached the red, gold and sand-coloured staircase, a man appeared onto its landing. Despite the others broad, tattoo-littered arms and shoulders, the hawk-like gleam in his twinkling eyes and the sharp sables strapped to his sides, the impressive white beard and the fat belly gave him away as far more than just a mindless brute. Instantly, Jack knew that he had been right, as the other spread his arms out wide and boomed a deep laugh in delighted greeting.

‘’Mini Koz!’’ The man cheered merrily, just as Jack leaned towards Caleb in order to whisper low.

‘’That’s North, right?’’ He asked, just as the giant of a man came pounding down the stairs at a speed far faster than seemed reasonable.

‘’That is indeed North yeah.’’ Caleb answered a few beats before the man in question reached them.

All at once, quite a few things happened.

‘’Tiny Koz, what brings you here?’’ North asked with a warm smile, as he bend a tad forward in order to get on Jacks eyelevel. ‘’Or who is you exactly?’’ He continued with a tilt of the head, just as a blur of movement rounded the corner of the hallway beside them and bolted straight for Jack – the impact nearly sending the latter tumbling over, as Jacks little sister crashed into his side.

‘’Jack!’’ Emma cried, as she hugged him tightly around the middle and immediately, he hugged her back with a wide smile of his own.

‘’I’m-‘’ Jack started to answer North, before a loud, unfamiliar voice interrupted him.

‘’Emma!’’ The voice called from the same hallway that Emma had just come from and, just out of the corner of his slightly obscured by brown hair vision, Jack spotted yet another figure striding towards them quick. A blond, petite female it turned out to be, in a red shirt and a long, flowery skirt, which moved elegantly behind her with each fast, passing step that she took.

Well this is a bit hectic all of a sudden, Jack thought, as he extended a hand out over his sisters’ shoulder, which North shook a tad harder than he had probably meant to.

‘’North.’’ North said in proper greeting, as he let the others hand go, and straightened back up again.

‘’Jack.’’ Jack answered, just as the blond female caught up to their spontaneous group meeting.

‘’You know its bedtime little bunny.’’ The newly arrived said, as she squatted down beside Emma and wagged an insistent finger at her. ‘’No running off like that without warning.’’

‘’But-‘’

‘’It is well past eight dearest. No excuses.’’

Really, Jack could not help but feel slightly dizzy from the amount of new people suddenly crowding around him, but alas, he could barely be bothered, when one of those individuals was his darling sister.

‘’I think we can make an exception Soph. He’s family.’’ Caleb said, as he gestured at Jack.

‘’I do not care if he is the king himself, this little beansprout needs to sleep.’’

‘’Aw come on, don’t be like that.’’

‘’Young brains need rest Kale, it is just how it is.’’ Sophie said, as she made a show out of examining her painted nail close. ‘’I do not make the rules.’’

‘’You literally do.’’

‘’Well yes, but that is beside the point.’’

In Jacks arms, Emma twisted enough in order to look up at the quietly chuckling North.

‘’Pappi, can I please stay up a bit longer?’’

‘’Course!’’ North agreed with a small shake of the head, to which Sophie loudly rolled her eyes.

‘’Sure, pay no mind to the over glorified nanny’s schedule, it is not as if she has other important matters to attend to.’’ She huffed, before tossing her blond hair over one shoulder. ‘’You,’’ Sophie said, as she pointed a crude finger directly at Caleb, who instantly raised his hands in mock surrender ‘’are seeing her to bed. I will check on her personally at ten, so you had better do it proper this time.’’

‘’No prob Soph, I gotcha.’’ Caleb said, just as the other stood up in a great heap of waving skirts and dancing flowers. ‘’We still on at nine for that dance practice though, right?’’ He asked, to which the other nodded once.

‘’Indeed. Do not be late. I will put you on cookie duty all week if you are.’’ She said with a small wave, before leaning back down to ruffle up Emma’s hair. ‘’Sweet dreams little bird.’’

‘’Night!’’ Emma called back with a wave of her own, as the other straightened back up and strode off.

-

Considering the soft snores, which sounded in Jacks ear, as Emma, even in her sleeping state, hugged him tight; it really had been well past her bedtime. Somewhere along the way, after little over half an hour had passed, a servant had brought over and discarded a still decreasing tray of cookies, which now rested beside North and in front of the man, his legs were spread out comfortably, palms flat on the floor, as they chatted away about all and nothing.

‘’Is child.’’ North had said on a shrug, as he had gestured at the girls sleeping form, right as Caleb had gingerly scooped her up and carried her off to bed, after Jack had voiced his relief at not seeing his little sister put to any hard work in the workshop itself. ‘’Let be so.’’

If anything, the tone sounded sincere, final and firm and it was all that Jack could do not to feel the heavy stone around his heart lift fully.

North was a good man.

Emma would be fine.

As for Caleb, the man had had yet to return and so, Jack mused that he had run off to attend to other matters than rescuing the latter’s shoulder from any further sleep-induced drooling. Idly, he grabbed one of the remaining cookies from the tray, as a lull in the conversation urged them both to get up and for North to show him around.

Endless shelves stretched out around them – each lined with what seemed like an increasing amount of toys and fairly quick, Jack deducted that that was indeed what the workshop itself mainly produced. For what purpose exactly, he had no clue, but considering the size of the place, it seemed there was indeed a flourishing market for it. He felt strangely at ease here. The air was clean, the pace quick but somehow still relaxed.

It seemed peacefully busy at best.

Pausing around his mouthful of cookie, Jack felt himself rapidly blink, as he found the other to be watching him intensely.

‘’Pardon?’’ He asked, just in case he had been asked a question. A few crumbs fell from his grip and beside him, North tilted his head at him.

‘’What happen?’’ The man asked and abruptly, the underlying tone gave Jack a sense of acute reluctance.

‘’…What?’’

‘’You are sad?’’ North elaborated. ‘’Is this Pitch doing?’’ He asked, to which Jack, perhaps a bit too quickly if the others narrowed gaze was anything to judge by, shook his head in a stern dismissal.

No. No it really was not, but if he could speak freely or not on the matter, he still had no clue.

‘’He’s only been good to me so far.’’ Jack added on a low tone and knew in his heart that it was true. A few seconds ticked by, the gears clearly turning in the others thick skull, before North let out a small ‘ah’ of sudden understanding. The man seemed genuinely sympathetic, as he grumbled something under his breath and leaned forward to gently settle his broad hand onto Jacks bony shoulder.

‘’What happen then?’’ North asked, as he tightened his grip slightly and just beneath his skin, Jack felt a strange, unfamiliar thrum of something run through him. It felt powerful and far more ancient than his tired brain could quite understand. As for the mans next words, Jack had not realized that he had stepped backwards in response, before his back collided with the shelf behind him. He felt it bounce from how hard he had crashed into it, a few objects wobbling from the impact but luckily, nothing fell.

‘’What did little earl do?’’

‘’I-‘’ Jack tried before cutting himself short. Cannot approach this yet rang through his head, but how was North supposed to understand what that meant? ‘’I don’t. I don’t really... It’s just. It’s just that he-‘’ Still, it seemed that the other did indeed understand even if Jack did not voice the atrocious thoughts aloud.

The cage, the ice, the damned dead with their judging, glazed over eyes and rotting skin slowly peeling away from the skull underneath. The pale sun that never quite provided enough warmth. The stale breaths and scent of the equally trapped still lingering so closely around him in his every waking and unconscious step. Then, shelter, peace, safety and something that came dangerously close to compassion from the golden eyed other and now what exactly? It had felt safe and for a while, Jack had been almost close to content within the dark halls of his upgraded prison that, somewhere along the lines, had started to feel more like a home than anything. But then, just as he had let it sink in and calm him some, then the reality of the situation had come back to smack him over the back of the head and once more remind him that nothing in his shit-show of a situation would ever truly be stable again.

But, he had started the turn-point, had he not? He had started it once he had found Emma scrubbing away at the floors of the rundown bakery – her hair falling in her face, head bowed so low that she did not even notice who was in her presence and really, if she had, then Jack, for the both of them, would not have been able to leave without her. He would have taken her with him right then and there and he would have been hanged for it. Pitch had stopped that from happening as well. Forced as he was, he had stopped it and the following wrongs from being carried out as well.

He did not quite register the moment that his knees buckled under him, but slowly, Jack realized that he had indeed slid down and ended up on the floor. Idly, he shifted a leg under him, his shin digging into sand-coloured tiles, as he shook his head as if to clear it from the burst of unwanted emotions.

How was he supposed to feel about that? How was he supposed to feel about any of it?

Still, he had come to realize just this morning past - still, he trusted Pitch to keep his word and keep him out of harm’s way, but how could he if he did not have any true authority over the perverse image of… whatever the fuck it was that Jamie was?

‘’He didn’t actually, you know- he didn’t actually. He didn’t actually get to-’’

Pitch had been there. Pitch had gotten there in time to stop it but even so, the whole aspect of the act itself made Jack sick to his stomach.

It had not happened. That had not happened, so why was he reacting this way?

Norths grip was gentle as it ghosted over the back of his clutching fingers and got the other to let go of his hair less he rip it all out in a fit of unease and lingering fright. Damn the cage. Damn the dead and their dead eyes and dead mouths. Damn Jamie. Damn it all!

‘’Why can’t he use his shadows around him?’’ Jack asked vaguely instead in a way of distraction, but in front, it seemed North understood. He well remembered the tight sensation, as those dark tendrils had kept him dormant. There had been actual strength in their grip and damn well if Pitch could not have crushed Jamie if he so wanted, which clearly, he did. In front of him, North cracked his knuckles.

‘’Core is suffocated in presence of earl.’’ The man said, as he pointed a fat finger at himself. ‘’But mine,’’ he continued, as he offered up a soft and yet sharp-edged smile ‘’No. Mine work just perfect and I will use eventually to take out tiny earl.’’

We are not supposed to talk about our core. Clearly, North had not gotten that memo.

‘’You’re gonna fight him?’’ Jack asked as he balled his trembling hands into fists and pressed them against his chest, to which the other nodded.

‘’Once other get faith back? Yes. At moment though,’’ North shrugged ‘’only Tooth seem certain in success. Considering who foe is, is gonna be difficult with only two ready to fight back.’’

Faith, cores and monsters in sheep’s clothing. This entire thing ran deeper than he had thought.

‘’How can I help?’’ Jack asked, before he could help himself and in front, North beamed a grand, warm smile at him.

‘’Believe.’’ The man said simply. ‘’Core is not everything. No faith,’’ he said on a shrug ‘’and we have no chance. Believe and get other to believe as well. Power will come in time. Until then, we must bide time and just believe.’’

Jack felt his blinking somehow intensify, as he found a meaty finger poking gently at his chest.

‘’And you,’’ North started on a low tone, his bushy eyebrows wiggling, as though it was a great secret that he was about to share ‘’have strong core. Find source and use it.’’

‘’I don't... think I quite follow?’’ Jack said, to which the other laughed a deep, merry laughter.

‘’You will.’’ North shrugged, and, as he once more clasped him on the shoulder, Jack did not comment that the force of it was nearly enough to truly send him sprawling out onto the floor below. ‘’Give time and source will come to you.’’ He said as he got up and held a hand down for Jack to take, North quick to help him stand, once Jack did. ‘’Now,’’ North continued and while Jack still felt slightly on edge from the others all too knowing gaze, the beat of the tone did a great deal at soothing the worst of his fright. ‘’Perhaps I should show you rest of shop?’’ he asked and swiftly, Jack nodded his consent.

That sounded just fine by him - Anything that could take his mind off all the shit that had gone down in the past two months, or however long it had been, and he would be quite grateful for it.

--

The first three days passed by far quicker than he liked and soon, much too soon, the sun rose and marked his final day of his spontaneous gift of freedom, as it bathed the red roof of the workshop in its rays of pale, golden light.

Come noon, he knew that he should go and take his leave, but technically, if he managed it, it would only count as four days if he arrived before the sunset of the fifth, right?

Right. Only one way to find out, and as the early hours of the evening came and then went, Jack finally sighed, waved his goodbyes and headed out to fetch Adriane for the long trek home.

Chapter Text

The first thing that hit him was the smell, thick, metallic and heavy in the air, as Adriane slowly clip clopped over the white of the snow-covered cobblestones. The second thing that struck him, as he got close enough to see it, pale and barely visible under the dim light of the moon, was the red streaks that had sunk into it.

Blood. There was blood on the snow.

Why was there blood on the snow?

Jack did not think as he slid off Adriane and slowly started to approach the double doors of the mansion and behind, he more heard than saw, as the mare retreated towards the stables on her own. Swiftly, he got up and pressed his back to the wall, Jack swallowing thickly, as he spun, leaned up on the tip of his toes and peeked his head over the windowsill.

Nothing. There was nothing to be seen, and as he made his way inside, the halls seemed deserted and silent. Something was horribly wrong. Someone had gotten hurt; he could feel it, as he crept through the darkened halls. It made him feel like an intruder. Out of place and stepping in places that he should not.

The kitchen was deserted. Pitchs office and the common reading rooms just as so and tightly, Jack clenched his fists and ignored the small bursts of panic that sparked through him at that. Still, it was in the early hours of the morning, technically still night, so perhaps everyone else was just merely asleep? Perhaps he was just overthinking it?

His own breathing felt too loud, skin too tight until he tore off and abandoned his borrowed coat over the back of a random chair that he passed. Soon, as he made his way in deeper, the light brown and the rich, dark gold gave way to the more pale and muted ones that surrounded the masters personal quarters. Swiftly, he found the door that he sought and pushed it open. He had not actually been in here before, but it was the last place that he could think to check and he wanted to know. Needed to know.

The room that stretched out before him was nearly completely dark, rendering him momentarily blind, as he went in. Jack paused where he had been feeling along the wall, his fingers digging into the tapestry, as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness.

Bed. There beside him was the bed and on it, a figure lay. Barely, as Jack felt his right thigh connect with the edge of it, he could make out the others features, but as to what he could see, he very much did not like it. A deep crease seemed to remain between his hairless brows - the soft breaths that Pitch drew the only indication that he was indeed still alive. He seemed to be in so much pain and Jack, perhaps out of relief that the other still breathed or for some other reason entirely, without thinking much of it, raised his hand out towards him. The cheek that he cupped was warm under his touch, Pitchs cheekbone defined and sharp, as he traced the side of his thumb along it.

Fine. He was fine. Despite the amount of blood spilt, he was fine.

Still, this was insane. What was he even doing in here; he should probably leave before-

Jack froze in his tracks, veins frozen over in fright and body going rigid, as the others molten gold snapped open wide and focused onto him. Pitch did not seem to register his surroundings though; just that someone else was near him and less than a beat later, Jack felt something collide with his chest, the breath knocked out of him, as his back slammed into the wall that he had been feeling along a mere minute ago.

The bands that snaked around his torso felt solid, the hands and fingers that clutched and clamped down on his arms, lower legs, in his hair and on his neck just as so. He could not move, could not even cry out, as he felt the pressure on his throat increase to the point of suffocation. Panicked, he found himself completely immobilized and unable to do much more than widen his eyes further and thrash against the binds that held him, his mouth hanging open, as he fought to draw the breath that he could not.

He needed to get free. He needed to get free and he could not.

A small eternity passed, the bones in his arms protesting loudly against the crushing pressure, before finally, two enraged orbs of glowing gold and pure hatred opened up in front of him and stared down. Narrowed, they stayed for all of a terrifying moment, before they widened in regretful recognition and immediately, Jack felt his knees buckle beneath him and had it not been for the hasty grip that shot out and held him up, then he would have tumbled to the ground in a heap of his own, unresponsive limbs.

Gently, and with obvious care and concern, Pitch helped him down, as Jack coughed and gasped raggedly - the hand on the latter’s throat warm and physical this time, as the former clutched him close and drew his back up against his own chest.

Fuck that hurt.

Jack shut his eyes against the golden light that spilled forth from Pitchs shielding fingers and as they raked over the area in a soft whisper of apology, they eased out and chased away the ache. Long after the pain had faded, they lingered and rubbed soothing circles into the skin of his neck and throat, before moving down to embrace him close.

Barely, Jacks arms and the rest of him for that matter, held any strength, as Pitch just held him.

It should not feel peaceful. He had just been attacked, but alas, it did.

‘’What happened?’’ Jack asked on a thin voice that broke in the middle, after the pressing quiet had stretched on for far longer than he was comfortable with. Softly, he elaborated when the other hummed in question. ‘’The blood. There's blood on the snow. Who's is it?’’ A tired breath ghosted over the side of his neck, the others voice sounding exhausted and raspy from unuse, as he spoke.

‘’Mine.’’

‘’What happened?’’ Jack asked, to which he felt the arms around him tighten further.

‘’Do not worry about it.’’

‘’Pitch, what happened?’’ Jack pressed and had to stop for a brief cough, as it aggravated his numbed and tingling throat. ‘’What did he do?’’

‘’A punishment was due for what I did.’’

‘’And what did you do?’’

A wave of black ghosted over his legs and up his front in what could almost be considered a gentle caress. It felt as if he was being shielded and Pitch, seeming reluctant to let him go as he was, had not stopped touching him either. Finally, he sighed in defeat.

‘’I sent you away.’’

Jack squeezed his eyes shut in response to that. He did not want to know. He did not want to know and yet, he had to ask.

‘’And why would he punish you for that?’’

‘’Because he wanted to take you to bed, but you were not here for him to do so.’’

‘’Did you...’’ He should not ask these things, he really should not. ‘’Did you know he was gonna ask for it? Or demand it?’’

Around, the shadows seemed to thicken further, true black crowding close, as it crawled over the floor and the lowest parts of the walls.

‘’Yes.’’

Jack did nothing to try to stop the tears that welled up from that. Neither did he quite registered that he was clutching onto one of Pitchs wrists, before the other covered his lesser hand with his clawed own. Idly, he bit his bottom lip till it bleed.

‘’Will he be back?’’

‘’I cannot say.’’

‘’Will he be back?’’

‘’It is possible yes.’’

The breath rattled in his throat, as Jack tried to breathe deep and as Pitch spoke again, he seemed to have gained a bit of strength back – the firmness there, creeping in slow and coating the edges, as he seemed to will himself secure on the matter.

‘’He will not touch you again. He will not get to touch any of you ever again.’’ The master of the house repeated his words from days past, to which the other barked a humorless laugh.

‘’You can't promise such a thing.’’ Jack hissed and if his breath had not been lodged in his throat, then he would have shouted it. ‘’You can't even use your core around him!’’ Immediately, he felt the change in the atmosphere, as flickers of the others silent rage crept in and swept around them in bursts of pure, dancing black.

‘’I will die before I let it happen.’’ Pitch solemnly vowed on a low grit out growl. ‘’Mark my words, I will not let it come to pass.’’

‘’And what are you?’’ Jack cried, as he clutched at the others arm. ‘’What are you since you believe you can make such promises?’’

‘’A king.’’ Pitch said with absolutely no jest in his voice and Jack felt the others hold tighten beyond comfortable, as he crushed him close as well. ‘’Or perhaps I was. I was and I will be again and when it happens, there will be no rock, no castle or stronghold, which can shield that wrecked rat from my anger. He will die for what he has done to me and mine. He will die and it will be a glorious day for triumph when I crush his skull beneath my heel.’’

As sweet as that sounded, it was a complete opposite from last they had spoken on the matter and still, Jack remembered the dismissal, as he had asked for a dagger to put an end to it all.

‘’Why did you fail the last time then?’’

‘’I underestimated his wit.’’ Pitch said on a clearly bitter tone. ‘’It will not happen again.’’

‘’He got the upper hand on you?’’ Jack asked and in return, the other laughed a low, mirthless tune.

‘’He took my daughter. Used her as a shield and put a dagger to her throat.’’

‘’And your shadows?’’ Jack asked.

‘’He ate them.’’

‘’Ate them?’’

A low hum that came close to a growl sounded directly in his ear, as Pitch lowered his head and rested his chin on Jacks thin shoulder.

‘’As he does now as well. He is an empty void that takes and takes and takes. He swallows them whole and renders me powerless. It is the same with the others. Whatever we bring, he consumes, takes and uses to his own advantage. If we were to fight then we must bring a feast too big for him to digest.’’

‘’And can we do that?’’

Pitch fell quiet for a beat, before the hand not placed firmly over Jacks raised and settled into his hair instead, the claws careful, as they raked through the white locks and really, it was all that Jack could do not to melt into the others touch. He was quite exhausted after the long ride and this? This felt nice.

‘’Perhaps.’’ Came the eventual answer. ‘’I cannot say for certain.’’

Believe. North had said something about believing, right?

‘’North can use his core around him though.’’ Jack tried, as he felt himself fully relax into the others hold. ‘’Why can’t you?’’

‘’Of course he would brag about that little detail.’’ Pitch grumbled, his careful tending’s of the others hair stopping for all of a beat, before he started up again. ‘’Nicholas has managed to shield himself and find a source that is not finite. The rest of us must recharge while he,’’ he said, before removing his hand briefly to flick his fingers to the ceiling ‘’gets to go as hard as he wishes. He never tires in the same way that the rest of us do.’’

Find your source and use it.

‘’What is your source then?’’

‘’Hush, that is not for you to know.’’

‘’But-‘’

‘’No, Jack. Be quiet about it.’’

‘’But-‘’ Jack started before cutting himself short. It would be no use - he knew that tone well enough already. ‘’You told me not to attempt to end him.’’ Jack pointed out instead. ‘’But it sounds like you're planning on it anyway? What changed?’’

‘’Perhaps I have found a new set of priorities.’’

‘’And what would those be?’’

‘’That enough is enough.’’ Pitch said simply, to which Jack raised a brow.

‘’That isn't exactly an answer.’’

‘’And perhaps I do not wish to share them with a mere servant.’’

‘’Rude.’’

‘’It is not.’’

‘’Is too.’’ Jack grumbled, before they both fell quiet. Several minutes passed like that, before Jack spoke up again. ‘’Are the rest alright though? He didn’t...?’’

‘’He did not get to physically harm any of the others no.’’

That, if anything, was a relief.

Carefully, Pitch helped him stand, checking him over for any injuries before he stalked past and headed for a silver fetcher by the window, and immediately, Jack was glad for the dark still pressing in on him. Considering what his main occupation was, the master of the house was rather sculpted, but, Jack thought as he eyed the others bare, toned arms and shoulders, at least he was wearing pants.

He had been about to ask another question, lips already forming around the words when he caught sight of the state of the others back. Soft and fragile, the pale moonlight reflected over the carnage, the details getting clearer still, as Pitch came to a hold in front of the window.

Whipped. He had been whipped. Badly.

Clawed fingers closed around the fetchers handle and edge, before Pitch raised it to his lip and drank deep from it.

‘’H-how long had…’’ Jack tried, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, as he stared at the absolute horror so carelessly presented in front of him. ‘’How long had you… How long had you been asleep?’’ Jack finally managed with a slight stutter in his voice, to which the other hummed low in thought - a claw ticking against the edge of the fetchers’ metal, before Pitch lowered it down to chest height.

‘’How long have you been away?’’ The master of the house asked instead.

‘’It's close to the dawn of the fifth day.’’ Jack said, to which he got another little hum in return.

‘’Two days straight then.’’

Jack felt himself blink, fingers shaky, as he willed them into fists.

‘’Is that... is that normal for you?’’

‘’No.’’ Came the answer, as Pitch put the fetcher down with slightly more force than was necessary. ‘’But seeing as the little earl eats away at my core whenever he is near, it is quite common for me to get drained far quicker than I else regularly would.’’

‘’Even if you don’t use your shadows?’’

‘’Yes.’’

That was valuable information. Still, how the hell were they going to defeat that?

Curtly, Jack nodded, his gaze lowering, as he opted to glare at the floor at his holders moving feet instead.

‘’Go to bed.’’ Pitch said, as he stalked past him and opened up a drawer opposite his own. Swiftly, he got out and then tugged a clean shirt on, fingers moving with expert ease, as he buttoned it up. ‘’You can take the day off as well.’’

Again, Jack nodded.

‘’I-‘’ He started, lip hurting, as he flicked the tip of his tongue out over it. It was trivial. Jack did not care about such silly, formal things, but Pitch clearly did. ‘’Thank you sir.’’ His holders fingers paused on the last button for the briefest of beats, golden eyes twinkling with startled amusement, the small grin that spread out over his features smug, as he huffed at him. He seemed genuinely delighted by the small defeat and promptly, Jack thought it worth it.

‘’You are dismissed.’’ Pitch said and again, the other nodded, as he turned to leave, only to stop dead in his tracks, as the other called out again. ‘’Oh, and Jack,’’ the master of the house continued ‘’do not hesitate to come to me if you need it.’’ He pressed, his head lowering slightly, eyes narrowed, to get his point across. ‘’Whatever the reason may be or however small the matter may seem, do not hold your tongue.’’

For the fourth and final time, Jack nodded.

‘’Gotcha.’’

And really, while a slight coldness still lingered in its edge from their previous talk, Jack thought it might have been the first genuine smile that he had seen from the other.

‘’Good. Now go.’’ Pitch implored as he waved a hand at him, before he fetched his dark, embroidered coat close and tugged it on. ‘’I do have other things to do than to entertain your chatty whims.’’

Chapter Text

‘’It’s gonna be a tight fit, but we might just squeeze through.’’ Pippa said, as Jack, down in the cold of the cellars, dragged over and handed her one of the numerous sacks of potatoes lined up against the wall.

‘’Might just?’’

Idly, Pippa tapped her pen to her bottom lip and gestured out at three of the sacks beside her and then over at the ones that had yet to be accounted for.

‘’We should have had at least the double. This is not enough. Not even close.’’

‘’Yeah but isn’t that because-‘’ Jack started, before he cut himself off. Judging from the sharp flint that had entered Pippas eye though, she clearly knew what he had been about to say. ‘’But we’re gonna be able to do it right?’’ He pressed instead. ‘’We’re gonna be alright, yeah?’’

‘’If we all cut down a lill, then maybe, but it’s not going to be easy love.’’ Silence fell for a beat, the quiet heavy in the dusty air between them, before Pippa offered a tense shrug and gestured out at the remaining sacks still behind Jack.

‘’Bring over the rest.’’

--

‘’Well done. Now,’’ Pitch complimented lightly with a slightly stiff demeanor, as he nodded down at the sword that had, for the second time already, been knocked out of Monty’s hand ‘’pick it up.’’ Around and beside the two, a breeze swept over the snow-covered courtyard, making the dark mansions servants shudder and likewise ruffling their hair.

The ghoul kept one hand behind his back, both clearly schooled on the matter, the clang of steel on steel once again loud, as they danced with deadly precision. Easily however, Pitch drove the ghoul back, and it was not long, before Monty was panting from the effort of keeping the hard blows at bay.

‘’Again.’’ The harshly clipped words sounded, after the steel had once more been flung from the ghouls hand. With a dismissive gesture, Monty raised the other out in front of him, shaking it slightly to indicate his intend and curtly, Pitch nodded in understanding – the master of the house likewise lowering his weapon, to instead roll his shoulders in a clearly irked fashion.

The breath ghosted around his face in a gentle, white mist, as he paced back and forth, and on the other side of where Pippa and Jack had cuddled up on the low wall, Claude approached, the man wordlessly switching places with Monty, as he got close enough to do so.

Beside them, a little ways down, Cupcake clapped once to indicate the start of it and on the match went.

--

‘’Any sevens?’’

‘’All the sevens have already been collected love, do try to pay attention.’’ Pippa grumbled, as she gestured for Cupcake to fish up a card from the stack, which laid between them on the floor of one of the smaller living rooms. ‘’Any kings?’’

‘’Only if our one and only counts.’’ Cupcake said back with a wink that was as cheesy as it was intensely lame. Beside them, reclined in a chair and looking highly unimpressed and tired beyond words, Pitch lightly snorted under his breath.

‘’So that’s a no then.’’ Pippa deadpanned, to which Cupcake nodded and tilted sideways to rest her chin in her unoccupied hand.

‘’Nope indeed. Go fish.’’

--

‘’Again!’’ Pitchs voice barked after the, softened by snow, clatter of steel against cobblestones had barely faded proper.

Beside him, Jack shuffled further down in his blanket, while he swung his legs back and forth for warmth where they hung from under his spot on the low wall. This time, Pippa and Cupcake had opted to stay inside and he could hardly blame them for it. The wind was biting to say the least and while it was entertaining to watch the sneering master of the house slowly drive Claude back for the third day in a row, it was becoming quite the repetitive task. Already, both of the men looked worse for wear, but the latter definitely more so.

‘’Celeste's fuckin... Ouch.’’ Jack winced in sympathy, as he watched Claude take a nasty, hard kick to the chest, which sent the man flying backwards and crashing hard into the snow behind. Despite the white cushioning the others fall, it still looked like quite the hurtful feat.

In seconds, Pitch was upon his literally fallen servant, who, with a quick, reassuring hand, waved off the slight concern, before extending the hand further and allowing the other to help him back up into proper standing.

Injuries were sought for but none found and less than a minute later, they were at it again.

--

‘’Sevens?’’ With a grit back yawn, Pippa handed over her three sevens into Cupcakes reaching hand. ‘’Twos?’’

‘’Go fish. Any tens?’’

‘’Hah!’’ Cupcake huffed in triumph, as she tabbed the edge of her cards against a finished stack in front of her folded legs. ‘’Now whose the one not paying attention?’’

--

Steel clattered out against the cobblestones – the handle of it flying wide, before it stilled amongst the cold. They had been at it for little over an hour and already, clearly to the mans great dismay and annoyance, Claude had to throw in the towel.

‘’Can I try?’’ Jack asked after one quick glance in Montys direction had made it clear that the other was not up for the task. The master of the house gave him a once-over, the sword in his hand spinning with obvious impatience, before he hummed low in thought.

‘’Are you any good?’’ Pitch retorted, to which Jack shrugged a thin, blanket-covered shoulder.

‘’Not really.’’

A few beats passed in which the other seemed to mule it over, before a sharp gleam that Jack could not quite decipher flickered to life in his golden eyes.

‘’I suppose I do not see the harm in it.’’

‘’Try not to murder me?’’ Jack, while sliding down from his place on the low wall, asked, and was only half joking.

‘’I would never.’’

-

It felt like holding back an avalanche with a rusted spoon. As impossible as it was insane and as Jack had already speculated on for the past five days that he had watched Pitch spar with the others, he himself lasted less than a tenth minute in, before he had to stop less he dislocate or all out broke his wrist in the process. Instead, with a tingling arm singing from exhaustion, and while haven had to back up several steps, he threw the steel to the side all on his own.

In front, Pitch held his head high, his shoulders back and relaxed from the poor excuse of a challenge that Jack had served. Softly, he shook his head at the tiny tantrum of clear frustration pouting hard under the blanket, which its thrower had gone back to snatch up close.

Cupcake patted his back, as she passed him.

‘’Guess it’s my time to shine sir?’’ She asked, as she picked up the neglected steel and took position in front of their quietly chuckling holder.

‘’Do your worst dear.’’

--

It was as impressive as it was boring, Jack thought as he, back bend, legs folded, head in hand and the other palm firmly planted on the small of Pitchs back, counted each slow pushup that the other did. Idly, he watched the wall in front of him gently bop up and down, as his holder moved beneath him. Every tenth that Pitch reached, he would stop, pause, and then do another ten. Already, the other had confirmed that yes, it did still hurt to have Jack sitting on his back like that and no, his wounds, scabbed over and nearly healed as they were, would not get further irritated from it and damn well he could stop worrying about it already.

Still, the act of it felt absurd and left Jack with a tinge of worry and guilt in his gut that he knew better than to voice aloud.

‘’Eighty.’’ Jack offered behind a grit back yawn, as Pitch, barely sounding out of breath, demanded the total. ‘’How many you gonna do?’’

‘’Three hundred.’’

‘’You're insane.’’

‘’Quite so.’’

‘’But like…’’ Jack tried, as he scrambled his tired mind for the right words. ‘’You don’t think you should slow down a bit in general? Just… You know. Take a break every once in a while instead of whatever this race to the death is.’’ He stressed with a small circular movement of the hand, before setting it back down, less he loose his balance. ‘’The rest are kinda worried for you as well you know.’’

‘’I am fine.’’

‘’But are you? Are you really?’’

Below him, Pitch sighed in obvious exhaustion and for a beat, Jack thought that he would actually answer. The moment passed however and just like that, without humoring one up first, Pitch started moving again.

‘’Fuck it then.’’ Jack grumbled under his breath, as he tried and failed to stifle a rather powerful yawn, eyes closing, the hand that had been cradling his cheek moving up to rub at his itching lids, as he breathed in deep and accepted it.

‘’Do you mind if I dose off for a bit?’’ He asked when Pitch reached the next mark of ten and stopped for another brief pause. Below, he felt the muscles of his holders shoulders move, as they were rolled thrice and with a hum of appreciation, Jack shifted himself when he got permission.

--

‘’Fives?’’

‘’Nah. Aces?’’

‘’Nope.’’

--

People came and went; a flurry of activity, dizzying movement and fast, formal words shared between equally fearful tones and faces that Jack had never seen before and was never properly introduced to. There was no need for him to be introduced he quickly learned – these were all people from all around the region that would soon be affected by the oncoming storm, but faces, in which he would most likely never see again.

By the end of it all, some of those faces would be dead and others barely noticing that a vital, albeit slightly illegal – if Jack had started to understand Jamie’s ways correctly - part of the system lay butchered. That was, if they did indeed manage to track down and carve out the decay that the little earl had caused during his too long, forceful, invasive reign.

However small a part they all played, everyone were involved somehow - either directly or only so little in passing that the lingering whisper of Jamie’s name did not send them as much on edge as it truly should have. If anything, Jack understood that well by now, seeing, as he himself had never heard of the little bastard before his unfortunate slide into chains.

-

A name that Jack did not care to memorize was mentioned by one such face and in front of him, his holder nodded in understanding, golden eyes lowering in empathy at the reported loss from the obviously grieving gentleman, which Claude had shown in only minutes before.

The name did not matter. They had been offered a dozen already. Jamie knew what they were planning, or, perhaps preparing for was the better term.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

--

‘’Fours?’’

‘’Nope.’’ Pippa answered Jack on a tiny yawn, before she turned her head towards where Cupcake sat close in front of her. ‘’Knights?’’

‘’Go fish.’’ Cupcake offered on a voice that sounded as bored as it sounded strained. Beside them, the fire in Pitchs nearly else empty office crackled merely. If the master of the house himself seemed annoyed by their spontaneous, uninvited attendance, he did not comment on it. ‘’Twos?’’

‘’Go f-‘’

‘’Fucking hell you three, just come cuddle instead already.’’ Claude interrupted the girls on his place on the couch that still lingered within the cramped space, as he extended an arm out wide in invitation. Willingly, Cupcake went over and snaked herself under the offered arm, while Pippa stayed firmly planted with her back to the front of one of the tables wooden legs.

‘’So you got any,‘’ Jack said, as he reached out, snatched up Cupcakes abandoned stack, twisted himself, got up on his knees and did his best to nudge the worn cards in under the elegant movements of Pitchs’ working hands ‘’Threes?’’ Below and beside from where Jack rudely kept an arm slung up onto the top of the table, Pippa huffed a tired, but thoroughly entertained breath.

Without even looking at the cards that kept getting in the way of his writing, Pitch offered a dry ‘’Go fish.’’

‘’Oh come on.’’ Jack said, as he threw a bright smile back at the withering glare that he was rewarded. ‘’You know you wanna join in.’’

A beat passed in which Pippa wrapped a hand around Jacks arm and tried to tug him back onto the floor with her, before the slow scrape of the abandoned stack being picked up sounded above them. The thoroughly used cards were shuffled about by a pair of careful claws, the golden eyes narrowing with a hum, as Pitchs tired head came to rest against his fist, before once more, the same two words were offered.

‘’Go fish.’’

-

Sleeping on the rich carpet of the floor was not something that was allowed them and so, hours later, Pitch urged them all to take their leave and actually let him resume to his tedious duties. On his way back, Jack stopped in front of a darkened, moonlit hallway, when movement at the other end caught his eye, and, after a bit of squinting, he realized what it was.

Two figures stood closely together, chest against chest in a loving act of care and before Jack had come to recognize what it was that he was intruding on, the tips of Montys fingers ghosted down over the side of Pippas face, the kiss slow and achingly intimate, as she pressed against him with a content sigh.

Her delicate hand found its place over the ghouls heart, the lingering smile widening, as Monty traced the plush of her upturned lip. A second kiss was pressed to her temple, before, bewildered and rather wide-eyed, Jack managed to snap out of it and continue on ahead, before either could notice his snooping presence.

--

‘’What is that?’’ Jack asked the morning after, as he, still groggy and confused from a blissfully heavy sleep, walked up close and joined Monty by the fence at the edge of the grand garden. In the distance, thick, black smoke coiled towards the brightening winter sky – the tendrils fading, as they passed and finally evaporated into what appeared to be a clear, glittering mist of dirty grey, yellows and bright green.

Unnatural, Jack mused, as he watched it. Fucking strange and freaky in nature. Definitely not the regular thing, he pondered, as a flash of too bright whites and hints of pressing purples made them both shield their eyes; whatever kind of fire was raging there, it was not quite right.

Beside him, the ghoul crossed his arms over his chest, expression blank, as he too stared at it and, as the wind ruffled the crumbled up leaves of the withered trees around them, making them groan and sway from the unseen force of it, it carried with it the stench of ash and decay.

It hinted at and whispered to them the details of death.

It tasted like cruelty.

‘’The chasm.’’ Monty finally answered on a voice kept carefully void of any emotion.

Somewhere in the back of Jacks mind, the name rung a bell and while he knew that it had been mentioned aloud at some point within the halls behind them, he could not quite place its origin.

‘’And what is that exactly?’’ Jack eventually asked the other to clarify. The ghouls stare was cold, full of old hurts and a slight impatience that he had never seen on him, as Monty directed his gaze down onto the other.

‘’Our only means of escape.’’ The ghoul explained. ‘’Behind and around us,’’ he said, as he gestured out with a circling of the hand ‘’when you get far enough, it is only wilderness and uninhabitable mountains that linger about.’’

A great sigh escaped him and when he looked ahead again, jaw set and chin lifted, his expression briefly flickered into one of intense determination.

‘’But know this. When he comes here. When he brings his fire and his destruction and his bottled up misery. Whenever the time for it will be. Stay behind me.’’ Monty said on a tone that sounded grounded in necessary acceptance. ‘’Strong as he may be, Pitch will be able to do nothing in order to keep his wrath at bay, but I. I just might.’’

Jack knew exactly who was being referenced; It seemed no one else were these days.

‘’He will be back?’’

‘’Oh yes.’’ Monty affirmed on a slight scoff that might just have been another sigh. ‘’If he can snuff out this rebellion before it truly takes root, then so help us all, he will.’’

The two of them fell silent at that, and if Jack moved a little closer to Monty in his need for silent comfort, then the ghoul seemingly felt no need to tease him for it.

--

The place remained as spotless as it always had despite their shared focus being used elsewhere than the tedious and seemingly constant cleaning. In the kitchen, Cupcake and Pippa kept themselves busy with keeping their either planned or spontaneous guests fed and when Pippa could spare the time, she would spend it on knitting flower-rimmed gloves and colourful scarves for them all.

-

Outside, right beside the stables, Claude had, with the help of both Pitch and Monty, set up a primitive forge. Tirelessly, despite the harshness of the chill and the snow that raged over and around the mansions grounds, the man worked on the darkened steel that one of their holders acquaintances had brought to them upon being requested to do so.

And so, with nothing but the clangs and the intensity of warmth from his lit fire, Claude would work away far into the night on it. More than once, which was becoming quite the bad habit already, the others had found him, hours after they themselves had finished their share, dozing off at the dinner table beside a plate of cold and only half eaten food. Sometimes he would join them for their lame card-games, before excusing himself to go out to continue on his labor, but more often than not, he would merely go to it immediately.

A good week and a half after Claude had started on its heavy construction however, the man strode through the halls with a huge, self-assured grin and after he had shown their holder to the finished product, Pitch switched his sword for the newly crafted scythe.

Massive, it was. An ugly thing made of black and sharp, ragged edges, which towered a good head above where his own pale one ended. Still, Jack mused, as he watched Pitch dance alone on the white-covered cobblestones - If he had been impressive with the former art of the sword, then now, he was downright lethal.

--

‘’Again.’’

‘’Sorry sir.’’ The ghoul panted, as he waved a hand in front of himself. ‘’No more. Please.’’

The dark clouds contrasted against the horizon behind, warning of heavy snow, as Pitch nodded and lowered his scythe to rest the end of its metallic edge against the stone below. Somewhere in the distance, another unnatural fire burned.

‘’Of course.’’

-

Still, the relentless sparring continued, albeit all except Cupcake seemed too tired to keep up and eventually, even she had to quit as well.

Claude took her place until he too was once more too worn to pose for much of a challenge.

--

Two of Tooths birds stayed a near constant at the mansion and while Pitch clearly disliked their presence, Jack had found him whispering in low, secretive tones to them multiple times already. Off, a third of them would take and soon enough, another would return with a small piece of paper attached to its tiny leg.

Pitch always burned the scraps right after they had been read. As for their contents, he never cared to share.

No matter though, whatever news they brought seemed to graze him with fleeting bursts of genuine confidence - slight fits of joy that left him cackling with a deep, rich glee, pride in his clawed grip, as he grabbed Jack by the shoulders and squeezed gently in excitement.

It warmed Jacks heart to see him as such and for the first time since their insane quest for righteous change had started, it seemed as if Pitch truly believed that the feat could be possible.

It had felt good to fight back. It had felt right.

Of course it could not last.

-

The end of November came around and one of Toothianas birds never returned. Not yet did anyone know for sure, as to why it had disappeared, but its missing presence felt like a bad omen - a promise of what was clearly just the beginning of the creeping cruelty, the fiery presence around them, which threatened to inch closer and in over their delicately carved threshold.

Perhaps - they hoped - it had been lost to the harshness of the elements. Perhaps it was from something much darker.

--

Two more weeks passed after that. Two weeks where the general vibe of the place changed into something tense, desperate and unspoken. Two weeks of harsh training and sleepless nights, where the only thing that could put Jacks mind to ease was the sound of the dry pages of Pitchs books being turned.

Jack never mentioned it aloud, but still his holder seemed to understand his need regardless and so, curled up and covered in blankets on the small couch that his holder seemed to have decided to be a permanent fixture in the cramped office, Jack would let the slow scrape of written paper lull him off to sleep.

--

It was a grave and early morning when Monty found the crushed body of the missing bird lying on the very edge of the mansions property. A stiffness remained in his shoulders, posture too straight and controlled for the situation, as he left its small, broken frame in Pitchs outstretched hand and stepped back to politely allow the master his stunted space.

The molten gold remained impassive, as they all observed the shadows flee from where its frozen feathers touched against the near grey skin of his clawed hand. Without having realized it, Jack released the breath that he had been holding and beside him, Pippa gagged and then choked in obvious disgust at the sight of what came next.

The birds feathers popped loose and spilled over Pitchs hand, raining towards the floor in a slow, perverse show of colours and wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong amounts of fat, grime and chunks of rotted blood, which melted out over Pitchs slim fingers.

‘’Oh sweet heavens, no-‘’ Pippa hissed at the sound of the subtle, wet sounds of the filth hitting the tiles, before she covered her mouth and nose against the smell of it. Despite having hidden away in the croak of Montys neck, her voice remained surprisingly even despite hers, and the others, shared horror. ‘’Don’t-… Don’t look at it.’’

Maggots peaked out and tumbled around blindly, before the hollow bones of the bird protruded out from beneath its’ curled and torn up skin. Down, the entirety of the rapidly decayed mass fell, dripping from between the spaces of clawed, trembling fingers, as it was stripped from the last of its breaking bone.

By the time the master of the house finally curled his fingers around the sorry remains of the bird, its eyes had shrunk to nothing - beak open and caught on a silent scream. Then, with a cold and detached expression, albeit the hold remained ginger, Pitch closed his eyes and breathed deep in what appeared to be need for the strength that had left him. When he spoke, his voice was caught in between too many emotions for Jack to decipher.

‘’No.’’ He insisted and straightened his back out slow. ‘’Do not close your eyes to the truth. This is real. This is our reality.’’

If anyone were to drop a pin within the grand entrance where they all stood, then it would have been as loud and startling as a gunshot. By his side, Jack felt the tips of Pippas fingers graze his own and idly, he turned his hand to allow hers to snake into his.

-

Still, the message was clear. They were on.

There truly was no turning back now.

Chapter Text

He was being ignored, he knew that - the clean air stuffy and too warm within the cramped space of the office, as Jack shuffled his bare feet restlessly and listened to the sound of clearly angered writing.

‘’Seriously, when the fuck is the last time you ate anything solid?’’

‘’That is none of your business.’’

On the floor next to him, a stack of cards lay where the hands that had wielded, had dropped them in a fit of careless abandon.

‘’Are you at least staying hydrated?’’

‘’Jack.’’ Pitch warned in a voice that sounded as strained as it did tired.

Stubbornly, and more than a little bored, the cards were sent flying by a swift move of his heel.

‘’I mean, you look like you're about to drop.’’

‘’Stop.’’

‘’No but really, you-‘’

Jack cut himself short, as his holders cold gold strayed onto his own bored expression.

‘’I rather wish to not snap at you-‘’

‘’Then don't.’’

‘’-but you are making the opposite quite impossible.’’ Pitch finished, as though the interruption had been nonexistent. In return, Jack stared at him with all the subtlety that he did not possess, before he huffed and made his way around the desk, successfully forcing Pitch to relent in his writing.

‘’You know as much as I do that-‘’

‘’What in seven hells do you think that you are doing?’’ Pitchs clipped demand sounded harsh and barely restrained, the glare a warning all in itself, but Jack heeded it none – the latter instead opting to calmly lean back against the desk, place his palms against the edge of it and cook a brow in challenge.

‘’You need a break.’’ Jack insisted and held up a finger to halt the other, before he could retort. ‘’You've been in here all week Pitch.’’ He argued, just as the holder in question reached out a hand to discard his feather and instead focus his full annoyance onto the direct source of interruption. ‘’Monty says you haven't eaten either, so don’t give me any shit excuses.’’ In front of him, the master of the house leaned back in his chair, the motion slow, expression slipping into cold anger, as he forced a shaky exhale and tilted his head at the other.

‘’That is none of your concern.’’

‘’Oh please.’’ The clatter on the desk would not allow for him to lean back and rest against it proper, but he did it anyway – a hand quick to jerk out and flick a loose paper off it, as he did so. Distantly, he heard it flutter and skitter over the floors carpet, as he crossed one thin leg over the other and held the others increasingly hardening glare. ‘’My job is to keep you alive, ain't it?’’

A flash of teeth was his response, before his holder seemed to lose the last threads of his already depleted patience.

‘’I am fairly certain that you do not have any say in what your job is.’’

‘’Well shit, I kinda do though, you've said so yourself.’’

‘’Then perhaps I need to exchange that luxury for discipline.’’

‘’By the gods, Pitch, would you just stop for a second and realize what you're doing?’’

‘’And what exactly, is it that you believe I am doing?’’

‘’Working yourself into an early grave. Or an earlier one I guess if you really believe we're all gonna die before the month is over anyway.’’ Jack, not one bit fazed, said back, as he tabbed the tip of a finger against the desks hard surface. ‘’You all ganged up on me when I was sick and told me that I was deadweight. The fuck are we gonna do if you keel over and die from overwork?’’

‘’I will not.’’

‘’Says who?’’

‘’Says I.’’

‘’Pitch for fucks sake you're barely standing. Or sitting. Whatever. You get the point.’’ Jack said, as he braved himself to straighten back up and lean into the others space. ‘’Go the fuck to sleep you fool.’’

‘’Get out.’’

‘’Only if that means you're gonna sleep.’’

‘’Get out.’’ Pitch barked harshly on a near growl. ‘’I will not be dictated by a mere servant.’’

‘’Well tough luck Cinderella, you are.’’

For a split second, Pitch, dumbstruck as he appeared to be by the whole thing, simply stared at him.

‘’What?’’ Jack continued before the other had the chance to properly snap out of his stupor. ‘’Do you seriously believe I'm gonna start conversing politely just because you're acting dumb?’’ He said. Idly, he noted the dangerous glint that entered the others eye, the click of his jaw and the sharpness of his glare, but still did not humor it with any tact or tone.

‘’Careful now.’’

‘’Oh please, you haven't corrected me for my tone before, so don't fucking start.’’

In front, the corners of his holders mouth drew up into a humorless smirk.

‘’I suppose I have been neglectful at best indeed.’’ Pitch said, as he laced his fingers together in his lap, the molten gold narrowing into slits, as he grinned wider yet. ‘’Maybe I should.’’

The curve of the armrests felt worn and smooth under his palms, as Jack shoved himself forward and further into the others already heavily invaded space.

‘’Strike me then. Put me in my place.’’ Jack challenged, nails scraping over the richness of the polished wood, before he gripped each of the thick beams tight and got close enough that he could feel the others breath upon his face. ‘’Wouldn’t be the first one to do so anyway. In fact, I've been told that my skin is quite beautiful when it's all bloodied up and bruised.’’

He could not tell if the other looked horrified by the prospect, or if he was actually considering it, but, when the answer came back on a low, firm, grit out ‘’No’’, which shook from barely contained disgust, he considering it to have been the former.

And that was just it, was it not? Pitch would not hurt him. Not ever. Not deliberately like so many others had.

Perhaps it was a fleeting burst of insanity in response to that, which drove him to it, perhaps it was from something else, something deeper that he had felt rise and form within him for quite some time in the months past.

Still, while his holders breath did catch in his throat from the shock of it, Pitch did not try to pull away, as Jack dipped his head and closed the remaining distance between them - the feel of his holders lips against his own as thin, as he had expected them to be.

While the touch remained innocent, the heat barely there, the other did not press back either and so, Jack relented. A trembling sigh ghosted over his collarbone, conflicted gold closing, before Jack straightened back up and finally allowed him space.

A beat passed in which Pitch appeared lost and faraway - All fight drained out of him, shoulders hunched, one hand coming up to press against his temple in a manner that practically screamed exhausted uncertainty, as he seemed to collapse in on himself.

‘’Get out.’’ The master of the house said in a voice that sounded worn and tired. ‘’Please. Just go.’’

In front, Jack stood with his back straight and shoulders squared.

‘’Go to sleep.’’ Jack repeated with a small shake of the head. ‘’It'll help.’’ He said and then proceeded to patiently wait for the other to make a move. A retort. A clipped out bark of dismissal for how much he knew that he had just stepped out of line. Anything really.

‘’Pitch.’’ He pressed when the quiet had stretched on for too long. ‘’I'm being serious. You need rest.’’

A minute passed, or perhaps it was only a matter of seconds, before a flash of gold once more gazed up at him from between the slim fingers, which still shielded them.

‘’What am I supposed to do with you.’’ Pitch mumbled softly on a tone that made it quite clear that he was speaking his thoughts aloud. ‘’A mess,’’ he grumbled to himself. ‘’This is such a mess.’’

‘’I guess.’’ Jack agreed on a slight shrug. ‘’But it's ours.’’ He said, as he spread his arms out wider and held them there for effect. ‘’And I mean, look, perhaps this isn't what you want to hear, but you gotta realize that you aren't alone in this. We stand with you. No matter what happens, we're in this together and all that. Aight?’’

Both were quiet for a beat.

Then, the chair scraped, Jack flinching and backing up against the desk, when the other abruptly stood and crushed him close in response to that. Claws combed into the fine hairs on the back of his neck, the shadows thick, as they pressed against his back and shoulders and held him in place.

Bit by bit, as the seconds ticked by, Jack calmed, when Pitch proceeded to do nothing more than simply hold him close in a tight embrace – the other seemingly frozen within his own head for the moment being.

‘’Rest.’’ Jack insisted when he felt the claws scrape over his skin and move around to caress down the expanse of his throat. ‘’You.’’ He pressed, as he was allowed to draw back enough to look up at the other. ‘’Bed. Go.’’

The smallest of smiles tugged at his holders lip, the gesture barely there, before it was banished and replaced by annoyance again.

‘’You are insufferable.’’

‘’And you're dumb.’’ Jack retorted and in front, Pitch merely shook his head at him, before moving a hand down and around to let it rest against the small of his back.

‘’Perhaps I am indeed.’’

Jack yelped as the world abruptly tilted on its axis, Pitchs shoulder digging into his middle, as he was thrown up over it.

‘’Holy sh-‘’ Jack scrambled to get purchase, hands clutching uselessly at the back of the others shirt, as the floor started to move beneath him.

‘’Calm down, I will not drop you.’’

‘’You better fucking not!’’

A low huff that came dangerously close to a laugh sounded in response to that.

‘’Are you frightened?’’

‘’No!’’

‘’Truly not?’’

‘’Okay maybe a little but-‘’

‘’Good.’’

Jack stared wide-eyed at the intricate carvings of the floors panels, which glided by at a steady pace, his holders clawed hand staying as a firm anchor against his back the whole while, as he was carried off. Both were silent for a while, before Pitch let out a contemplating hum.

‘’What?’’ Jack asked, when he realized that the other had slowed significantly in his step, but despite knowing that he had definitely heard the question, he got no immediate answer. ‘’Pitch?’’

‘’It is nothing.’’

‘’That didn’t sound like nothing.’’

‘’Still, I would ask you leave it be.’’ The master of the house pressed and for once, Jack deemed it best to just obey.

For now at least.

A good five minutes passed on in the following quiet, before Pitch let him back down onto solid ground again, and, when Jack straightened his clothes and gazed around, he found a heavy dawn and muted golds staring back at him, before he looked back up into Pitchs brighter, unamused own.

It was intimidating to say the least, but he had a mission and damn well, he was going to see it through.

‘’Well… you gonna sleep?’’ Jack pressed, to which the other nodded curtly.

‘’I suppose.’’ The master of the house replied. ‘’Though, first things comes first.’’

‘’Which would be what exactly?’’

Jack did not flinch, as the back of a single sharp claw traced down his cheek and finally settled under his chin, lifting his gaze further, though really, there were no immediate need for it. Truly, the touch felt as much as a threat, as it did a soft caress. ‘’Mark my words Jack.’’ Pitch started, as he narrowed his eyes, his tone low, as cold as it was serious and leaving no room for discussion. ‘’Tell anyone of what just transpired in there and I will cut out your tongue.’’ He pressed, to which the other huffed unimpressed.

‘’Would you really?’’

The touch moved down, settling against the side of his neck, before it dipped further and brushed imaginary dust off his shoulder.

‘’Of course not.’’ Pitch finally admitted, the same contemplating hum from minutes past sounding, as his hand lingered for just a beat longer than seemed casual. When he slid past him with no further comment, Jack did not try to halt him. Still, Jack bit at his lip, the skin that Pitch had touched tingling in a way that he did not quite know what to do with.

‘’Sleep well.’’ He finally called after the other, Jack turning slightly, to watch Pitch stalk off. In response, he got a simple, swift wave of the hand, before the other disappeared out of view.

Left in the dark as he had literally been, Jack once more shuffled his feet in a fit of restlessness, the whispered message sounding like an afterthought a good minute later - the words low enough that Jack barely caught it, but echoing clearly through his head nonetheless.

Are you always this cold?

Chapter Text

Pitch was clearly not a morning person, that much had become clear from the very second that the master of the house, stiffness in his shoulders and a sour expression caught in his face, had trailed back into his office the next morning.

‘’Hey.’’ Jack greeted from his place on the couch, to which he got a deep-felt yawn in reply, before Pitch grumbled something, one hand tugging on one of the silver cords, as he sunk into his chair. He looked more exhausted than he had when he had gone to bed and somehow, likewise, it made him appear the most human that Jack had ever seen him. Pitch kept his fingers pressed to his temple as though fighting off a headache, back bend, as he rested his elbows against the desk.

‘’You all right?’’ Jack asked, to which the other waved him off and instead turned his attention towards the ghoul that had entered far quicker than Jack had thought possible.

‘’I need you to deliver this to...’’ Pitch started, as he fetched a letter close, his expression slipping into something void of any readable thought or emotion, before trailing off. Without haven been asked to, Monty placed a mug of tea before their holder, the ghouls’ posture patient, as he waited for further instruction.

‘’Is the address on the front sir?’’

‘’Blasted, of course, yes-‘’ Pitch turned the letter over in his clawed hand and narrowed his eyes at the hasty scribbles that lingered there. ‘’The address is on the front.’’ He grumbled, as he held it out to Monty, who quickly took it from his outstretched hand.

A beat passed between them, an unasked question lingering in the air, before the ghoul bowed his head and turned to leave.

‘’So uhm...’’ Jack started once the door had closed with a click and the retreating footsteps faded far out of any possible earshot. ‘’Pitch?’’ He tried, to which the other groaned low in a noncommittal reply. Once more, his clawed hands had moved up to press against his closed eyes, head heavy and bend, as he breathed deep. With a hint of worry, Jack watched him practically collapse over the table.

‘’Pitch, what the hell is wrong?’’

‘’Don’t.’’ Came the clipped reply and Jack could not help but blink in surprise.

‘’Did you just use incorrect grammar at me?’’

In return, Pitch simply parted two fingers to glare at him.

‘’Bad dreams?’’ Jack continued into the quiet, stale air, to which the other hummed low in what sounded like frustration.

‘’I suppose you could say that.’’

Jack nodded at that. If anything, it felt like progress.

‘’So.’’ He said, as he got up and approached his holder that truly looked as though he wished that the rich soil beneath the mansion would come alive and swallow them whole. ‘’What’s the plan? Where do we go from here?’’ Jack pressed, Pitch stiff beneath his touch, as he went around and raked his hands down over his tense shoulders. Slowly, the master of the house adjusted himself to allow the other better access, head still in his clawed hands, as Jack worked on getting the tight knots out of his upper back and shoulders.

A hum of pure relief sounded, as Jack moved his attention onto the tension that still lingered in Pitchs neck, the crease between his hairless brows lessening further, under the careful tending.

‘’I am not sure.’’ He finally admitted, as he gave up pretense and completely melted over the desk - head resting on his bended arms, as he lowered himself down further.

‘’Fair enough. You got any word from the others though?’’

‘’I did.’’

‘’And what do they say?’’

Another little beat of silence passed, before his holder answered on a tone that sounded as cold as the frost currently ghosting up the mansions windows and doors.

‘’That everything has been put on hold.’’

‘’Why?’’

‘’Because Toothianas palace burned down.’’

Jacks working hands only paused for a slight second, before he started moving them again.

‘’What happened?’’

‘’The same that is happening everywhere these days. People are dying.’’ Pitch said, as his clawed hand grabbed Jacks and gently brushed it aside. Still, he kept his head in one hand as he sat up, shoulders rolling thrice, before he leaned up and rested his heavy head against the chairs backrest. ‘’She has lost everything. Flesh and stone, gems and servants. It is all gone to the flames that danced there.’’

‘’So-’’ Jack started, before cutting himself short. ‘’Why are we stopping because of that exactly? Shouldn’t this be the best time to strike then?’’ He pressed. Beside him, Pitchs molten gold peeked open and glanced at him sideways.

‘’We did not quite expect for the little earl to actually come for us this early on.’’ He clarified. ‘’We had hoped that it would be an event months from now and not while winter still rages over the lands.’’

‘’But he did.’’ Jack pressed. ‘’And it’s not as if any of this is going to get any better.’’ Pitch huffed at that, his clawed hand careful, as it raked into Jacks white hair and tugged him close.

‘’Perhaps not.’’ His holder agreed. ‘’But rushing to what will certainly be death seems an unwise decision.’’

‘’So it’s better to just wait until he comes here instead?’’

‘’He will not.’’ Pitch insisted. ‘’He has no reason nor time to. Toothiana served a purpose for us in terms of weaponry that Jamie wished to eliminate.’’ He clarified. ‘’And thus he did.’’

‘’Aight.’’ Jack nodded softly, before he braved himself to rest his leg over the chairs armrest, the side of his head leaning lightly against Pitchs shoulder. Despite the heavy subject, it felt rather cozy and already, the working hand in his hair was making him rather sleepy. ‘’Hey Pitch?’’ Jack asked as a thought struck him, to which the other hummed in question. ‘’Why doesn’t Tooth drink anything but white tea or water?’’

A soft chuckle sounded, before Pitch answered.

‘’Her stomach cannot take it.’’ He clarified. ‘’It is a policy under this house’ roof to not serve her anything else unless we will have a repeat of the unfortunate events that happened last that we did.’’

‘’Which was?’’

‘’She shat herself doing one of her visits.’’

Jack choked on the started laugh that bubbled up from that.

‘’Oh. Oh no.’’

‘’Indeed.’’ Pitch agreed. ‘’It was an equally embarrassing ordeal for all parties involved. Best to avoid a repeat at all costs.’’

A beat of quiet that did not feel quite as strained as it probably should have passed between them, before Jack continued off from the previous topic at hand.

‘’Monty says that he will though, so I’m not sure as to why you say that he won’t.’’ Jack pointed out. Abruptly, the hand in his hair tightened, Pitch’ entire frame taut, as he stiffened.

‘’Will not what?’’ Pitch asked with hints of suspicion, to which Jack blinked rapidly in slight confusion. ‘’What did he say exactly?’’

‘’That Jamie would be back?’’

‘’And when did he say that?’’ Pitch asked with a slight and sudden urgency.

‘’I… Dunno,’’ Jack said, as he tried to pinpoint the exact day that it had happened ‘’about a week ago or so I guess? Why? Is it impor-’’ He continued, before cutting himself short, as Pitch gingerly shoved him back.

‘’Are you absolutely certain that he said that?’’

‘’Yeah, it…’’ Jack started, before the sudden shift in Pitchs attitude made him trail off. ‘’Wait, he didn’t tell you about it as well?’’ If he did not know better, he would say that his holder appeared frightened.

‘’No. No he did not.’’ Pitch said with a deep frown, the air thick with sudden tension, as the master of the house let his hand drop from the others locks and instead let it grace down over Jacks thin shoulder. A few times, Pitch opened his mouth to speak, eyes rapidly moving with an obviously distressed train of thought, before finally, he continued on a soft and uncertain note. ‘'I need you to leave.’’

‘’Wait-‘’

‘’Jack.’’ Pitch insisted in a voice that sounded as though he did not quite dare to believe what he had just been told. ‘’Leave.’’

‘’But-‘’ Another little beat passed, the two staring at one another, before finally, Jack relented. ‘’Your tea is getting cold?’’ He tried on a questioning tone, to which the other appeared to will himself whatever bits of patience that he had left to guide him calm – his free hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, before he settled his attention onto a stack of fresh parchment.

‘’You are certain that he said so? Truly?’’ Pitch pressed one last time, to which the other nodded.

‘’I mean, I dunno if it’s true but-‘’

‘’No.’’ His holder interrupted him, as he fetched his feather and quill close. ‘’If Monty said it will be so, then it is the truth.’’ Pitch finished on a slight grumble, before snatching one of the blank papers close. He looked to be contemplating something for a beat, claw ticking against the metals edge and then, in a matter of seconds, the tip was pressed to the parchments rough surface.

‘’How would you know that though?’’ Jack asked, as he watched the other work.

‘’I do believe that I have asked you to leave.’’

‘’And I’m asking you to explain the weird shit that you say.’’

The feather stopped its dance for a beat, before starting back up again. When his holder finally answered, it was not quite, what Jack had expected, but really, he probably should have.

‘’We do not talk about our core.’’

--

Another week crawled by at a snail’s pace - the days that ticked by too dull and tame for Jack to have anything to remember them by.

If anything, he reckoned, they had been peaceful, and, as one, the dark mansions servants all seemed to have gathered hope that the unnatural fire that raged over the lands would not reach them, when it eventually did.

If anything, he reckoned, he supposed that they should count themselves lucky that they did not get to taste actual flame, but rather untamed destruction instead.

-

‘’Yes that’s quite enough.’’ Claude, out in the pristine snow of the courtyard, barked, as he shoved Jack behind him – the mans deep breath doing nothing to ease the obvious tension in his shoulders, as he stared at the one who had just stepped forward to cut the already badly beaten and bruised smaller of the two down. Jack kept his fists up by his tingling chin, swaying slightly on the spot, head pounding, as Claude bowed his own in defeat.

At once, the man seemed to deflate completely, as he realized their situation - surrounded by thirteen others, as they were.

‘’Do what you must.’’ Claude roughed, his grip on Jack tightened in slight warning, as they shoved past.

‘’What’s happening?’’ Jack insisted, to which the other merely tightened his grip beyond comfortable and tugged him closer still.

‘’Quiet.’’ Claude hissed, as he spared Jack a brief glare and jerked him with – the man turning to have his front towards the mansions grand double doors. ‘’Just stay still.’’

Claude stared hard at the open doors, as they waited, his breath strained, as his eyes moved rapidly for any signs of further movement from both behind and in front. ‘’Pippa.’’ Jack heard him urgently whisper under his breath, fleeting emotions passing over his face in rapid succession, as he seemed to listen to a distant conversation that Jack himself could not hear. In front, a clear crash of what was unmistakably glass being broken rang out and a beat later, the windows in front of them were kicked out as well. ‘’Thirteen.’’ Claude offered back to a question that for all Jack knew, had not been voiced aloud. ‘’All armed and meaning business.’’

It felt like close to an hour when the intruders returned and strode past without a word, but in reality, it might only have been half that time. Claude clenched his teeth, as one of those men came close, the latter flicking the butt of a burned cigarette at the others chest, his rifle carelessly resting from a slight grip of bruised and scarred knuckles, before brushing past close enough to bump Claudes shoulder.

For a beat, the other stopped, the rifles edge moving with the wind, as the bored-looking intruder turned his head and stared at Claude in what was clearly a challenge.

Fight back. He seemed to say without any words. Make my day. Fight back. Fight back and see what happens when you cross a collector.

Alas, Claude stayed still and tall, expression blank but determined, as he waited for the other to move.

Eventually, the intruder did.

‘’Is it safe to-‘’

‘’Not yet.’’ Claude hissed at Jack as they waited, and then, lower, the man continued to speak as though Jack was not present at all. ‘’Pippa?’’

A beat passed with nothing but the howling wind pressing in on them, Jack shivering slightly from it, before he braved himself to press against Claudes side for warmth. To his relief, the man did not push him back but rather wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

‘’Pippa?’’ Claude pressed again with slightly more urgency and then abruptly looked relieved. ‘’Oh thank the gods.’’ The man said, as he started to tug Jack with him towards the still open doors. ‘’Yeah. Yeah, we both are.’’

Up the steps they went, Jack freezing in shock, as they came far enough in to survey the damage.

Everything was destroyed – bright shards of precious china and fine arts lying about at random around them.

The place had quickly turned freezing with nothing but broken windows to keep out the chill - snow drifting in from the clear, damaged barriers and soaking up the rich carpets with their cold. Jack was still caught in a startled daze, as Claude stalked past him, the man kicking what appeared to be the leg of a table away as he went, before he stilled briefly and gazed around at the carnage.

‘’Mind the glass.’’ Claude murmured a second too late, before Jack had mindlessly, numb and shocked as he were, forgotten about his lack of shoes – the latter hissing in distress, as a shard of broken glass embedded itself deep in his foot.

Without a word, Claude had gone back, wrapped an arm around Jacks middle and carried him along.

-

‘’Try not to move so much.’’ Monty, minutes later, scolded, as he nudged the shard out and cleaned up the still bleeding wound. Around them, Pippa fuzzed about, the girl humming softly to herself, as she fetched close what few books could still be salvaged.

‘’Oh fuck off, it fucking hurts you heathen.’’ Jack grumbled back from his place on an upturned and gutted couch, to which he received a light slap on the wrist. Beside them, Pippa let out a small, contend sound, as her hands closed around a volume that she clearly treasured.

‘’I know.’’

--

They had left Pitch’ office intact. Nothing in there had been disturbed - not a sheet nor a single piece of furniture out of place within the cramped space.

The master of the house seemed relieved by it, but still, he seemed to wish himself anywhere else and so, it hardly took much coaxing to get him to relent and leave its depressing presence behind.

--

In the end, after the dust had settled and the cold truly started to seep into the stone, marble and gold of the walls, they had all gathered in the winter garden that held the late-blooming lilies. The place was as thrashed as the rest of the mansion, but mercifully, the windows there remained intact. Blankets and pillows and almonds, which Jack had finally learned the name of, had been brought in and freely shared and to his delight, he had found that he quite adored them.

A solemn affair it was, as they huddled together for warmth and a bit of normality.

‘’You understand that this is a special occasion, yes?’’ The master of the house, ever formal as he insisted on being, said, as he seated himself in the nest of blankets and broken furniture and handed out the only two remaining bottles of wine that he had fetched from the cellars.

‘’Special might not be the word that I would use sir, but yeah we do.’’ Cupcake agreed, as she accepted one of the bottles and poured herself a generous portion, before passing it on and leaning back to recline on the blankets. ‘’Grotesque might be better.’’ She mused aloud, as she tipped her glass to clink it against Pippas. Abruptly, it was drained in one go, before she held out a hand for one of the bottles again.

‘’Unfair would work too.’’ Claude chimed in, as he too took a sip from his wine. ‘’Cruel. Unexpected. Unacceptable.’’ He said, as he reached out and swiftly snatched the reclaimed bottle from Cupcakes grip, before she could hoard and drain it all by herself.

‘’Regardless of the right wording.’’ Pitch continued undeterred in a voice that seemed heavy with emotion, their holder clearing his throat, before continuing. ‘’I have a matter that we need to discuss.’’

‘’Which would be what sir?’’ Cupcake asked, to which Pitch drew a deep breath, before answering.

‘’That I have decided to send you away.’’

A dead quiet fell, Jack feeling his skin itch from it, as he likewise felt his eyes widen in disbelief.

‘’Sir.’’ Claude carefully started in a voice that did not quite sound as if he had, or refused to, understand it. ‘’You mean all of us?’’ Beside the man, Pitch drained his glass in one go and nodded stiffly.

‘’Indeed.’’ He said, as he held it out for Pippa to refill, which she quickly did. The tip of a sharp claw traced around the edge of the glass, Pitch appearing casual in a way that he clearly was not - all eyes locked on him, the nervous tension obvious, as the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

‘’Well shit, guess the supplies don't matter then.’’ Jack grumbled, as he glanced at Pippa who kept her eyes firmly trained onto their holders form.

Beside Jack, Cupcake hummed in a noncommittal reply.

‘’Why?’’ Pippa, while sounding as lost as she looked, asked, and as Jack watched her start to nervously fiddle with the edge of her blanket, he felt his heart break for her. Pitch drew another deep, grounding breath, before his molten gold locked with hers.

‘’He will have you killed if I do not. Maybe one of you.’’ He said and lowered his head, eyes widening for a beat to get his point across. ‘’Maybe all, but one is still one too many, and’’ he clipped, tone turning cold, as his gaze briefly strayed to Monty, who appeared deeply unmoved by the whole thing ‘’a certain someone has not been completely honest as to what they have seen.’’

Beside him, the ghoul merely shrugged a noncommittal shoulder.

‘’You can't.’’ Pippa said, the short sentence sounding like a plea and it probably was.

‘’This is necessary. It has to be done.’’ Pitch argued right back.

‘’No.’’ Pippa said, as she shook her head, the slight twitch in Pitchs brow obvious, as Cupcakes hand snaked out of the blanket and grabbed Pippas slimmer own. ‘’No it doesn't.’’

‘’This is all that I can do to keep you safe.’’

‘’Papa please-‘’

‘’Do not choose me over your own life.’’ The master of the house interrupted in a voice cold enough to make even Jack flinch. ‘’I will not watch that unfold.’’ He pressed, Pitch seeming to will himself calm, as he watched Pippa bite at her lip to keep it from trembling. ‘’I have found households for each and every one of you. You will be safe as this whole mess passes you by, but please, please do not fight me on this.’’

At Jacks side, Cupcake remained stone-faced, Claude as mute as Monty likewise stayed, while their eyes remained attentive. On, the quiet lingered, Pippas shoulders still vibrating with tension, as she tried and failed to hold back her tears.

‘’You will depart in the morning after tomorrow.’’

‘’And if we refuse?’’

Golden eyes snapped to Monty, Pitch looking downright murderous for all of a beat, before his jaw clicked and he seemed to deflate in the face of the others stubborn defiance.

‘’Then I suppose I will have to collect the remains of a broomstick and chase you out with it.’’ Beside Pitch, Cupcake snorted despite the seriousness of it all. ‘’Albeit in the end, evidently, as you know, I cannot force you to leave.’’ He concluded. Montys shrug remained as stiff as the first one had, his gaze seeming full of secrets that only he knew, as he held his holders sharp stare and raised his glass high in a toast that no one else dared to join.

‘’Don't.’’ The master of the house warned in what sounded like a tired plea, before Monty tipped the glass slightly in Pitchs direction – the ghouls tone clear and sincere as he exclaimed his intentions.

‘’To death.’’ Monty said and drained it and as one, the rest of the dark mansions servants mirrored it.

‘’To death.’’ Cupcake agreed on a mumble, as she snatched the bottle back from Claude and took a swig straight from it, before passing it back into the mans waiting hand.

‘’Fools.’’ Pitch whispered, shaking his head, as he placed a delicate hand against his temple and collapsed back into the blankets. ‘’Fools.’’ He repeated. ‘’Fools, all of you.’’

-

For the rest of the evening, despite his quiet, foreboding presence, the conversation flowed easily – the topics remaining light and without any true weight, until the master of the house stood to take his leave.

--

A clawed finger against his lips stopped him short, as Jack tried to press up on the tips of his toes.

‘’You are drunk.’’

‘’And you're lovely.’’ Jack answered his holder, as he swayed lightly on his cold and aching feet. In return, Pitchs melancholic chuckle was a strange, rich thing.

‘’What is it that you want Jack?’’ He asked, as he steadied the other.

‘’Dunno.’’ Jack said honestly, as he let himself be held firmly in place. ‘’Dunno, but you're sweet and I wanna kiss you again.’’

‘’Sweet?’’ Pitch huffed, as he ran a hand through the others white hair and shook his head in fond amusement. ‘’Last you called me cruel.’’ He said. ‘’So, which one is it?’’

‘’Sweet. Definitely sweet.’’ Jack insisted - the hand in his hair stopping him short less than an inch from the others mouth, when he tried to move in again.

‘’The imbalance in power between us is colossal.’’

‘’I don't care.’’

‘’But I do.’’ Pitch said, as his clawed hands cradled the others bruised face, thumb careful, as it traced Jacks still hurting jaw. In response, a soft, content sigh escaped the latter of the two.

‘’Heavens above.’’ Pitch murmured on a slight laugh, as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the others clearly blissful state and response to the light touches. ‘’If I did not know better, I would say that you were in love.’’ He said, to which Jack simply hummed a noncommittal tune - shy, icy blues peeking up at the other from below a sea of dark lashes.

‘’And what if I were?’’

A beat passed in a strange silence after that and if his holder looked disturbed by the sudden realization, Jack had no real way of saying - a slight widening of the others golden eyes and a conflicted ’Oh’ the only verbal response that he got for the better half of a minute.

Finally, after seeming to have given that fact a healthy dose of pondering, he continued.

‘’Please understand that I cannot afford to entertain such prospects.’’ Pitch said. ‘’Though I will admit, it is a tempting proposition.’’

‘’Just do it then.’’ Jack gruffed with clear hints of annoyance. The scoff that earned him was full of warmth and something that definitely sounded like affection.

‘’This is all happening too fast for me.’’

‘’That's alright.’’ Jack said, as he stared at Pitch' chest and then, when the quiet lingered between them, added. ‘’Why can't you though? What's stopping you?’’ He asked, to which the other did not reply. ‘’Hah! See?’’ He huffed in frustration and finally looked back up into the others molten gold. ‘’You don't even know. It's all polite talk and boundaries with you, but you don't even want to not do this, you genuinely want it, so why-‘’

The kiss that claimed his working mouth was slow and gentle, the press careful, as Jack moaned into it and placed a palm against Pitchs chest.

‘’Place your hands behind your back.’’

‘’Sleep with me.’’

‘’I do not sleep with drunk people.’’

‘’So you'll sleep with me sober?’’ Jack retorted, his grin loopy, as he pressed against the other. With a slight pout, he relented, as Pitch nudged his hands off his chest and obediently placed them behind his back instead.

‘’I did not say that.’’ Pitch sighed, as he once more steadied the other, his tone serious, as he spoke. ‘’Now, if I ask you politely, will you actually listen to me for once?’’

‘’I already am.’’ Jack grumbled and ignored the annoyed look that Pitch rewarded him with in return, before finally, the seriousness of the others expression caught up with him. ‘’Aight, I’m listening.’’

Something flashed in Pitchs eye then, an old hurt that was gone too quickly for Jack to decipher, but no doubt, it had definitely been there.

‘’Whatever it is that you might feel awakening inside you, suppress it.’’

‘’Why?’’

‘’Because if you do not you will end up like me.’’

‘’Bitter?’’ Jack challenged with a raised brow, to which he was lightly tapped on the cheek.

‘’Trapped.’’ Pitch gently corrected. ‘’I understand that it might seem exciting to explore and seek to find out what you could possibly do with it, but if we fail…’’ He said, before trailing off – his smile turning shy and appreciative for a beat, as Jack ran a thumb over his lower lip in an attempt to ease out the thin frown that stubbornly lingered there.

‘’We won't.’’ Jack insisted, just as Pitch wrapped slim fingers around his wrist and guided his hand back to where he had been told to keep it.

The gesture should probably have felt forceful.

It did not.

‘’You do not know that.’’ Pitch insisted, as he kept his fingers on one hand firmly locked around Jacks slim wrists, while his free hand stayed up to caress his rosy cheek.

‘’Maybe not.’’ Jack admitted, as he leaned into the touch. ‘’But I believe in you,’’ he said and pressed back up for another kiss - Jack feeling the soft smile that ghosted over the others lip, as Pitch allowed him close. ‘’I believe in you and so do the others.’’

‘’Perhaps so.’’ Pitch said on a gentle sigh. ‘’But regardless Jack, listen. Whatever happens from here, wherever you may end up, behave.’’ He said on a tone that remained slightly clipped around the edges. ‘’If not for your own sake, then for the ones around you.’’

‘’You know I won't.’’ Jack slurred. ‘’And I wanna stay here. I wanna help. You can’t make me leave.’’

‘’You should.’’

‘’No.’’ Jack, annoyed by the change of topic, grumbled, as his forehead collided with his holders chest - voice slightly muffled, as he continued. ‘’If you don’t want me, can’t you just set me free instead?’’

‘’I never said that I do not want you, but no, I could not. Even if I wanted to, it is not in my power to do so.’’

‘’Not yet it isn’t.’’ Jack huffed. A short laugh escaped Pitch at that, his smile sly but reluctant, as though he did not quite dare to entertain the thought.

‘’Not yet indeed.’’ He mirrored.

‘’Still though.’’ Jack continued. ‘’Can't you just... I dunno, let us all go anyway? If you really don’t think you’ll make it and you wanna send us off anyway, then at least give us that.’’

‘’It is not that simple.’’ Pitch pressed. ‘’Once a contract has been made, it is permanent. Even if I were to burn it, the state keeps the original behind lock and key.’’ He said as the back of a finger traced against Jacks chin. ‘’The ones that I hold are active and legal, but without them, you would be free game.’’

‘’Free game to do what with?’’

‘’Terminate or reinstate.’’ Pitch said and then quickly elaborated when Jack only blinked rapidly in confusion. ‘’Kill.’’ He explained. ‘’Kill or capture to do with as the new holder deems fit. There is no auction held if the secondary contract is lost. It is a complete free for all.’’

‘’Oh.’’ Jack said, to which Pitch raised an amused brow. ‘’That sounds like a shit system.’’

‘’Indeed.’’ The other huffed, before nudging him back. ‘’Now. I do believe it is time for bed.’’

‘’If you insist.’’

‘’I do.’’

--

At first, Jack had gone back and cuddled up with the others, but when it felt off, the chill and the closeness of bodies pressed together for warmth against an unrelenting chill all wrong in the face of what his mind could only recall as misery and bad things to come - he had quickly ended back up in Pitchs office.

His holder in question had said nothing, as Jack had stumbled in and flopped down onto the couch – the haunted look in the latter’s eye definitely noticed, but mercifully not commented on.

-

Eventually, he did manage to fall asleep – Jack feeling himself drift off, as he went under. Something tugged behind his eyelids then, a strange pressure just barely there that he somehow understood should not be present at all and, asleep as he was, Jack could do nothing as it escalated into a blinding pain that exploded and pulled him in.

-

A great, hollow nothingness greeted him - Jack stubbing a toe against the cold glass, which stretched out beneath his bare feet, as he gazed around himself. Below, as he finally looked down and noticed his own puzzled, bruised and banged up reflection staring back at him, he realized that it was in fact not glass but a grand, black mirror that he was standing on. Softly, he pouted into the depressing silence, before calling out once.

‘’Hello?’’

Chapter Text

A crackling sounded, as beneath, a light layer of frost coated over the mirrors reflection, freezing the soles of his feet and making them tingly and numb - the swirls and gentle curves of creeping ice lighting spontaneous paths around him, which, alas, led to nowhere. It seemed as if an hour had passed in that empty space and quickly, the sensation had lost most of its eerie awe as, try as he might have done with his best efforts to provoke it forth, nothing showed or called back to him.

‘’So…’’ Jack mused aloud on a mumbled voice, which lacked any immediate interest. ‘’This is a dream, right?’’

Still, as he had expected, nothing answered him.

Somewhere up ahead however, though he had soon come to learn that it never grew or decreased in volume no matter how hard he gave chase, a faint whispering receded - the tunes strange in pitch, too shrill and high for any human tongue and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end from the wrongness of it all.

Empty, it felt. The place stale, seeming a void; a black, hungry nothing, which was waiting to swallow him whole.

Then, as if to give him relief from the nonexistent routine that mocked him dearly, a perhaps imagined flash of light caught his eye, making him stop dead in his tracks, as he jerked his head about and looked for its origin. Gone it was in an instant however, the fragile thing fleeing too quickly for him to get much of an understanding of its nature.

As a second burst of bright warmth brushed past him at shoulder height however, he knew with certainty that it had been there.

‘’Seriously, what the hell is going on…’’ Jack huffed to himself, brow furrowing, shoulders hunched, one arm coming up to rub at the spot that it had touched, as he wandered on at a slightly more anxious pace. ‘’Pippa?’’ he tried with no immediate reward, back tensing, as the first hints of true nervous frustration settled in.

To his left, a third little light nearly knocked him off his feet when it collided against his side.

‘’Pitch? Monty? Anyone? Hello?’’ Jack tried. ‘’This…’’ he said while shaking his head in puzzled worry. ‘’This is… Seriously, this isn’t normal. Is it?’’

‘’I suppose not.’’

The unwelcomed familiarity of the voice that spoke to his right made Jacks skin crawl, mouth dry, muscles taut, as clear fright made him spin on the spot towards it.

‘’It is a curious thing though.’’ Jamie continued despite the others obvious distress from where he was crouched close by. ‘’I did not realize that Pitch had an elemental just walking about at his free disposal. Pray tell,’’ Jamie said on a contemplating note, as he tilted his head at him ‘’have you always had it, or are you just now realizing the tunes of its awakened existence?’’

In response, Jack had already started to back away, the stumble of his feet nearly sending him crashing to the reflective ground in their hurry.

‘’Calm.’’ Jamie insisted, as he held up a hand in reconciliation. ‘’I just want to talk.’’

‘’Like fuck you do!’’

It felt off kilter to look down on him like that. Jamie had put himself in a submissive position, but he was still clearly very well the one in charge. Jack sneered, as his back collided with an invisible barrier of pulsating light and in front, Jamie just huffed a laugh at him, before waving the upheld hand thrice in gentle dismissal.

‘’Oh I insist on only breathing honest conversations while in this realm. Anything else seems…’’ Jamie said on an amused breath, his raised hand moving in to settle against the side of his face, as in the other, a dagger rested - the hilt of it barely graced by the tips of lazy fingers. ‘’Rude, I suppose.’’ He finished after a short beat. ‘’Still, despite that, I must apologize though, I do not have much time to talk things through and properly explain all of the fuzzy little details.’’ He admitted. ‘’So, I need you to listen close Jacob.’’

‘’Jack.’’ Jack clipped and pressed back against the solid warmth behind him, to which the other raised the hand that held the dagger and waved him off with it.

‘’Whatever. The thing is, I have a proposition to make.’’

‘’Which would be what?’’

‘’That perhaps I could convince you to help me out.’’

‘’As if.’’ Jack spat in a tone that remained as cold as he could possibly muster. Idly, he fisted his hands to stop them from shaking, fingers twitchy, itching to snatch the dagger close and carve out the others narrowed eyes.

‘’And what if I offered to spare the others?’’

Scratch that, he would start with the tongue.

‘’You wouldn't.’’ Jack scoffed. ‘’Even if I agreed- which I won't, you wouldn't.’’

In front, Jamie merely shrugged.

‘’I already told you that honesty is the only thing that I will bring forth, but alas.’’ He sighed and made to scratch at his chin with the flat of the dagger, before seemingly thinking better of it.

Twice, he circled its sharp tip by eyelevel.

‘’I could still offer to spare you.’’ Jamie pressed. ‘’And I would.’’ He interrupted with a subtle tap of a finger against the daggers hilt, before Jack could beat him to it.

‘’You would kill me eventually.’’

‘’But you would get to live a peaceful life until that moment occurred.’’

‘’You mean as your slave.’’ Jack clipped.

‘’I mean as a slave.’’ Jamie corrected.

‘’Which would essentially be the same. I would still serve under you.’’

The hand that still held Jamies head up moved around to scratch at the back of his neck – the palm of it stilling, as he cracked it.

‘’Yeah I suppose you are right on that.’’ He admitted, as he got up. ‘’But come now. Think it through.’’

‘’Think what through?’’ Jack challenged and turned his head, as he pressed as much back against the invisible wall behind him as he possibly could. ‘’I already gave you my answer. It’s a no.’’

‘’Perhaps so.’’ Jamie agreed. ‘’But the question is,’’ he said, as he got close enough to place the sharp steel to the others abdomen ‘’would it not be much simpler to just give in and do as I say?’’ He hummed. ‘’In the end, no matter if you participate or not, I am going to prevail. Literally all I will ask for is that you remain a neutral party.’’

‘’I won't.’’ Jack gruffed and somehow managed not to waver in the face of the amused glint that flickered to life in the others eye.

‘’Are you quite certain about that?’’ Jamie asked with what almost sounded like concern. ‘’You know, this realm here,’’ he said as he softly poked at the flesh of Jacks belly ‘’this is all mine to do with as I please. If I wish to keep you here for eternity, I can.’’

‘’Is that what you do to Pitch when he sleeps?’’ Jack asked, to which the other looked a tad insulted.

‘’Oh heavens no, I do not quite have the time for that. But I suppose I could if I had such.’’ Jamie said and then added in a softer, much more intimate tone. ‘’Wait, would you like that? Should I bring him pain instead of giving you peace? Is that a desire you wish to have fulfilled? I could, easily, if that is what you-’’

‘’I didn’t say that, you fucking-‘’

Jack clenched his teeth, as the dagger started to dig in – his lesser hands easily wrestled behind his back, as he tried to still its intrusion.

‘’It is quite easy really.’’ Jamie insisted. ‘’All you have to do is stay out of my way.’’

‘’Like hell I would.’’

‘’Oh I know little parrot, I know.’’ Jamie agreed and in front, Jacks mouth parted and stuck on a silent scream, as the blade slid further in. Idly, he felt it strike something that instantly contracted in painful protest. ‘’You are all quite the persistent lot.’’ Jamie said, as he tilted his head at him. ‘’But if anything, I suppose it is at least quite entertaining indeed.’’

Jacks knees threatened to buckle; the strain in his shoulders increasing by the second, as easily, Jamie held up his entire weight with the hands that he had trapped.

‘’What did you do?’’ Jack wheezed out without quite knowing what he was asking for.

‘’The same really.’’ Jamie responded on a note that came close to a near purr, as he nudged Jacks jaw up and pressed his open mouth to his throat. ‘’But I have to give it a try though, do I not? Mercy. Mercy that is, except you all seem certain that death is what you wish for instead of the peace that I could grant.’’

‘’You lie.’’ Jack roughed and felt the other smirk, before Jamie bit down gently. ‘’You’re delusional.’’

‘’I already told you that I do not lie.’’ Jamie breathed softly against his abused skin, before nipping at its offended red. ‘’You are not all that different from the rest Jack.’’ He insisted. ‘’It is the same things that make a person tic.’’

Jacks trembling knee connected with a tingling nothing, as he tried to fight back, his eyes staring at the endless black above him, as his head was jerked roughly back far beyond what was comfortable.

‘’Why are you doing this?’’ Jacks voice remained a weak puff, the edges catching on a choked whine, as the dagger was jerked roughly to the side - the teeth in his throat relenting, before a deceivingly soft kiss was pressed against the area in what felt like mock compassion. Out, the steel slid, before it was plunged back into his side instead, causing Jack to double over, his own bleeding form collapsing against Jamie, who easily took its full weight.

‘’Because I can I suppose.’’ Jamie said, as the dagger slid out and stabbed the other thrice in the lower back again. ‘’Because it is fun? Because it is in my right to do so? Because it is all that I can do in order to keep you nits in line?’’ He hummed. ‘’Regardless, the time is up. Last chance boy. Stay back. Comply and you will be spared.’’ He pressed. ‘’I will grant you peace if you stay passive in this.’’

‘’Piss off.’’

The steel left a burning trail across his abdomen, Jack finally falling to his knees, as his own guts peeked out of the gapping mess that had become of his midsection. Barely, he registered that Jamie had let him go.

‘’I am offering you a way out kid. Why waste it?’’ Jamie asked, as the tip of a finger lazily glided up the flat side of the blade and played with the crimson that coated it. ‘’Or, could it be that you truly wish to burn with the rest?’’ He pressed, hands once more resting at his sides, as he glared down with an expression that had slipped back into boredom.

Idly, as Jack remained silent and crumbled at his feet, he shrugged and hummed a short tune.

‘’This could have been sweet. I would have given you peace. Truly, I would.’’ Jamie, with clear sounds of disapproval and slight disappointment creeping in, insisted. Below, a crack shot out from where he stood, jerking out and about and forming fine lines of fragile patterns, before Jamie made them expand and shoot out further with a single tap of his foot. In obvious exaggeration, he sighed.

‘’But so be it then.’’ Jamie grumbled, as he placed the heel of his boot against Jacks forehead and pushed the others head downwards and back. Apart, the cold surface of the mirror came, parting slow, to swallow the other in in a series of loud cracks and gentle, shallow cuts.

‘’Sweet dreams Jack.’’

--

Nothing hurt anymore; the pain having faded in what seemed like decades ago. He understood that he was somehow falling, the wind wrapping cold and unbidden around his form, his own slight laugh coated by hints of madness, as he watched his guts lazily trail after.

It was mostly quiet now, as it had been above, but sometimes, the unfamiliar voices that had eluded him would whisper in bursts of deadly calm - whisper, of how others had turned on their holders and gutted them down before the unnatural fire could reach their homes. Sweet, the whispers were-

Join us, join us

Sweet and full of lies - promising nothing but peace and the reluctant freedom that would surely come from gentle obedience.

Give up, give up, he needs permission, join us, give up

Eventually, his ears fell deaf to their pleas and cries for the want for possession and the redemption that they could no longer gain.

Give up, join us, give up

Damn his heart for caring at all, but Jack felt a fleeting bit of pity for the brute men stuck under Jamies thumb that he had now come to understand the half dead, lackluster existence of. That Jack thought, as he closed his eyes and adjusted his guts to spin and embrace the wicked eternity before him. That was not life.

Briefly, he wondered if the rest of the servants that he had come to deeply care for were equally trapped here. He hoped that they were fine. They properly were. They had to be. The alternative was not one that he dared to entertain.

--

Perhaps a day passed. Perhaps it was two.

Still, he continued to fall, with nothing but the whispers and pressing of bright warmth floating about his crashing form.

--

‘’Let it end.’’ He could barely recognize his own voice anymore, hoarse, as it had grown from screaming.

Join us

‘’Please,’’

Join us

‘’Just let it end already.’’

--

The little pinpoints of lights had started to gather around his chest, seemingly drawn to whatever pain he felt emanate from there in little bursts of crowded, dull thuds that followed the rhythm of his slowed heart. In clusters, they stayed, each time he failed to swat them away from his own exhausted person.

‘’What even are you?’’ Jack grumbled, as he poked at one of them.

Give up it answered him back.

No texture, he mused, as he squeezed it between two numb fingers. No real form to speak off. It was just a small light keeping him warm.

‘’Wait,’’ Jack murmured, as he watched one of the lights try to dig its way beneath his skin. ‘’Are you trying to eat me?’’

--

Join us, join us

‘’Do you think there is a meaning with life?’’ Jack said, as he swatted a handful of lights away from his constricting chest. His core. The lights wanted his core. He did not understand how he knew that, but he knew it to be the truth.

Give in, join us, join us

‘’Maybe there really isn't.’’

Give in, let it possess you

‘’Is that supposed to scare me?’’

Join us, let it possess you

‘’The whole 'no meaning' thing I mean.’’

Join us, give in

‘’It's kinda weird.’’

Join us

‘’But you know, it really doesn't. It doesn't scare me at all.’’

Give in, join us

‘’Is that wrong of me? Is it okay to dismiss a fear like that?’’

Join us

‘’Should I… Should I be scared?’’

Jack

The new voice that reached him was distorted, full of equal fright and exhausted desperation, but it was a much welcomed break from the constant routine of nothingness that he had become used to.

Join us, give in

Jack

‘’I hear you.’’ Jack rasped back, as he likewise had to cover his ears against the vibrating tunes of what had practically been a roar inside his head. Around, the lights flickered and fluttered about at a mad pace, seeming to respond to whatever pain he felt blossom anew in his chest.

Fight it

‘’How?’’ Jack barked back, as he had to release the pressure against his ears to instead swat and claw at the lights. A few got in his eyes, making them sting, as their heat increased rapidly in temperature. ‘’Pitch!’’

Somewhere else, he felt his physical body respond to what he assumed was an attempt to wake him.

Give up, give in

‘’Dammit, Pitch, how?!’’

-

A great flurry of scolding warmth and blinding, panicked light whipped around him, trying to keep him dormant and distracted, as Jack focused his resolve. Everything felt sharper, more real, as the curl of his fingers held an air of actual, tangible physicality to it.

Do not stop. It hurts, I know, but you must

His core cracked open and Jack screamed, as crude ice and the whisper of winter flooded his veins and shot out through his body.

You must keep pushing. Push through the pain and the doubt and the terror of it all

The whispering ceased its angered protests into a soft, barely noticeable hum of background ambiance. They hated him and he thought that he could understand their envious reasoning. Still, he was waking up, he knew that, but this meant much more than just the simple act of it.

More. Seven hells, MORE! Do not stop!

The lights relented. The pain tripled. Still, he pushed through.

Good, Jack, good! Very good

It sounded an awful lot like praise and he knew that it was.

Chapter Text

A blinding pain remained in his chest, the taste of bittersweet salt heavy on his tongue, as Jack startled awake with a rasped out whimper. Panicked, his breaths remained, the strange pressure in his skull still eminent, nails bent, as they fought against the clawed hold trying hard to keep him from digging red and angry welts into the skin of his chest.

‘’Breathe,’’ the stern, laced with worry, voice, which had guided him to safety, clipped from above ‘’breathe, Jack.’’

Something cracked under his palms, the origins of it cold, as Jack willed it to spread out and in response, immediately, Pitch hissed in pained protest, before forcing the others lesser hands well above his head with a slight curse spilling from his thin lips. ‘’Stop.’’ The clipped command was spat none too gently between tightly grit teeth, as Jacks slim, resisting wrists were forced well into the softness of the couch’ rich fabrics. ‘’Jack, stop.’’

He could not. He did not want to.

Around, the wind howled, making the papers, general clatter and remaining shards of the broken windows in the hallways beyond rattle loose with clinks and clangs.

‘’Hush, dearest heart, hush your cries. Listen. Listen to me.’’

It hurt to channel the cold like this. Something was missing and in its stead, it felt as if he was tugging the very strands out of his being for it to continue to rage and roar his righteous fury.

‘’Stop.’’

His throat constricted from what he presumed was his own deafened screaming, the pressure behind his eyes increasing to the point of feeling as though it was going to split open from the inside out.

Somewhere else, something shattered, as it was toppled over by the wind.

Jack, stop!

He just wanted the band around his wrists to release, truly, that was all that he needed and as to how Pitch figured out as much, Jack had no clue. Reluctantly, the pressure eased off his wrists, the clawed grip quick to snake around his trembling form instead and embrace him close.

‘’Suppress it,’’ Pitch hissed in Jacks ear, the urgency in the tone not lost on him, as the hold tightened and tugged him closer still ‘’you cannot sustain such an immense press without a source. Please, listen to me in this. Stop. For the love of the gods dear, stop!’’

The ceiling above looked unreal and wrong, as Jack managed to crack a bloodshot eye open and stare impassively up at it. Glittering, it was, covered in a thick coat of ice and shining strangely in the low, flickering light of the room.

He had done that. He alone. Pitch had his shadows and Jack had his ice.

Trapped. With the truthful nature of the spoken warnings he would be trapped just like-

Hush

It took an immense effort to focus on the molten gold swimming above him, the other haven drawn back enough to gaze down on him as he had - Jacks head heavy in the others clawed hands, as his full attention was demanded.

It will not come to pass

Somewhere else, the sounds of splintering glass and groaning wood creaked and roared and further away yet, something collapsed from the pressure of the repeated abuse.

‘’Promise me so.’’

Fucking hell did it hurt to speak, if the weak rasps that escaped him could be called speaking at all.

‘’I cannot.’’

‘’Then don’t lie to me.’’

‘’I am not.’’

‘’But-‘’

The clawed hands holding his head moved, combing through the strands of his hair and tightening for focus.

‘’You gave me back my faith.’’ Pitch roughed, the blunt of a single straying finger stopping the other short, as it pressed against Jacks sneering lip. A look of old melancholy remained trapped in Pitchs golden gaze, as Jack finally, properly, focused his blurry own onto him – the fingers that the latter willed to move invasive with dreadful cold, as they covered his shielding own. ‘’Now allow me to return the favor. Let me reassure yours.’’

It felt as if he was holding fire in his grip. It burned, and while Jack knew that he was hurting the other equally as well, he could not stop. The chill wanted out. It wanted through, and so, soon, he had to move his fingers gone and up against the wall beside them instead, less he do any permanent damage.

‘’How?’’ Jack challenged, as he held the others fixed stare. As he glided a hand over his stomach, he found it whole. ‘’Just how would you beat something like that?’’

‘’As I have said.’’ Pitch started on a not quite there voice, as the sound of distant shouting made his gaze snap towards what remained of the busted door. Abruptly, the shadows fled and yet somehow, the ghostly room felt all the more suppressive for it.

A deep crease formed between his brows – a look of acceptance crossing through his golden eyes, before he continued in a quiet tone.

‘’With fury and enough might that the little earl cannot eat it all up.’’ He said, as he unceremoniously adjusted his hold of the exhausted other enough to hoist him up and lift him away from the icy monstrosity that had once been a couch.

Gladly, Jack let him.

‘’Let him eat himself full. Let him choke. Let him suffocate on the remains until our victory is secured.’’

Nothing remained of the rich furniture that had once stood proud within the cramped space of the office. In their place, stood an outwards, circular imitation in the form of ragged, sharp shards and crude spears of ice, which licked over the carpets and crept below to the floorboards themselves.

He could read its whispered nature. He could sense it – its edges laying their surroundings open to him like a simple map to follow. Further yet, it had stretched, down, all the way through until it had forced the very foundation apart from the sheer pressure alone. That the place still stood was a miracle in and of itself, but once the ice thawed, Jack realized, it would indeed collapse.

A ruin, Jack thought at the center of the storm that he had created, as the master of the house secured his grip and lifted him away from the wreckage. He had ruined it beyond repair.

Still, if anything, he mused, as they passed through the frame of the missing door, Pitch did not seem to overly mind.

‘’Ease up dear,’’ came the command regardless ‘’please.’’

‘’I can’t.’’

‘’I quite seem to realize that.’’ Pitch agreed, as he moved with quick, purposeful steps down the wrecked hall. ‘’But try on your own. Try. Try regardless while you still have the chance.’’

‘’While I still…?’’ Jack started on a subtle wheeze of a breath, before a foreign tingling started to register in the center of his chest. ‘’While I-’’ The sensation moved out, vibrating through and making his spine heavy as led.

He was burning up, the cold snatched from his grip; ripped away by invisible hands.

It made his throat clog with fear.

‘’I know.’’ Pitch, expression stony, focused and grim, said on a voice that was not nearly as effected, as Jack understood him to be. ‘’I am quite aware of it as well.’’ He repeated, as the wind died down with a soft hiss.

Everything was happening too fast.

‘’Pitch-‘’

‘’Be still dear heart.’’ Pitch clipped, while giving no indication of slowing down the hasty pace. ‘’Can you stand?’’

‘’Can I-…?’’ Jacks legs remained tingly, heavy and numb, as he tried to get them to respond. ‘’No. No, I don’t think I can actually.’’

‘’Noted.’’ Pitch hummed, as they made it through the hall and into the next. ‘’I will have to set you down soon.’’

‘’It’s okay.’’

‘’Whatever happens, no matter what the outcome shows, know that-‘’

‘’Pitch.’’ Jack interrupted with the soft, trembling touch of a not quite responsive palm against the others wildly racing heart.

Fright. That was definitely equaled fright beating his fingers.

‘’It’ll be okay.’’

The hall turned brighter by the aid of the surrounding torches left in the entrance – the figures within standing close to the door leading to, blocking the view, before ahead, Cupcakes urgent voice hissed at another, betraying the unspeakable, before they came upon the scene itself.

‘’Claude.’’ She hissed, her hand raised in front of herself in what appeared to be attempted reconciliation. ‘’This is dumb. Just put it down and we can all talk this through like functional adults.’’

‘’But he’s not-‘’ Jack started, before Pitch hushed him and, with no visible hesitation, strode into the entrance itself. Surreal, it was. Warped and wrong, as Jack caught sight of what had Cupcake so worked up.

‘’Papa.’’ The crude hunters’ knife that Claude owned was wielded in his own firm grip, threatening to cut into skin, as Pippa carefully spoke with a deep-felt, frightened confusion. ‘’Please. Don’t hurt him for this, he is not-’’

Wordlessly, Pitch eased Jack down onto the ruined marble, letting him sink proper onto it, before he stretched and strode in front.

For several beats, the servants and master alike all seemed to freeze from the unnatural sensation of it all. Then, as Pitch spoke, it was on a voice, which did not waver.

‘’They have nothing to do with this.’’ He said, back straight and clawed hands clasping behind his back, as he regarded Claude with an estranged look. ‘’Let them go. You cannot punish the smallfolk for what they cannot control.’’

‘’Oh, but they can.’’ Claude answered back. ‘’They can. You gave them control. You created this terror that befalls you now.’’

‘’I digress.’’

The hand that remained fisted in Pippas hair jerked back, exposing her throat further.

‘’And that will matter none. Your lambs will fall as I see fit.’’ Claude hissed. Beside the two, Cupcake visibly had to restrain herself from stepping close and by the looks of it, so it remained for the rest of the gathered as well.

‘’Let me answer their crimes then.’’ Pitch said on a shake of the head, as he dared a step forwards. ‘’They are not to blame. You cannot claim such indecencies.’’

Claude smiled, big, wide, and wrong in a sense that Jack could not understand, nor did he want to. Idly, the man tabbed one of his three remaining fingers to the blade, still pressed far too close to Pippas throat for comfort.

‘’I would ask your life for that.’’

Only Monty stayed close enough to see the subtle gesture that the master of the house made with the tips of two crossed claws.

‘’And you shall have it.’’

With an air of stiff casualty, the ghoul moved closer to Claude’s side, as Pitch likewise moved in. To his left, Cupcake seemed to catch on as well.

‘’Stay at distance.’’ Claude snapped, as he sensed the shift - the blade clutched close digging into flesh and cutting slow in warning. To Pippas credit, she barely flinched. ‘’I know your tricks.’’

The whole thing was a blur of seemingly practiced movement.

Monty locked eyes with Pippa the moment before she stabbed a wooden splint into the wrist of the hand that held the knife - the pain and blood and sudden unresponsiveness of Claudes hand and the closed distance of the ghoul enough to distract, as Pitch closed in as well.

‘’Down!’’ Pitch yelled and Pippa did just that, ducking low, before kicking back at whatever she could reach. Claudes shin, it turned out to be, as the man stumbled a step back and away from the madly clawing at the ground to get away Pippa. ‘’Left!’’ He ordered and promptly, she rolled to the right.

But of course, Jack thought through his haze, as he watched her get to safety and the rest of the violence unfold in her neglected space - it could not be quite that easy.

A roar rang out - exactly from who, Jack could not tell - as the blade slashed out in a lazy arch, the result showing itself, in a series of falling steel and flashing red.

‘’Wretched-‘’ Claude barked on a rough, wrong note, as Cupcake moved in with far more grace than Jack had ever given her credit for, the butch smashing into and tackling Claude to the floor, before the fact that the former had managed to wrap meaty fingers around her wrist in the process, had even seemed to register in her mind. A single tug, a single, barely there attempt to jerk free and her hand was bent till the bones beneath crushed.

She did not care, Jack mused, as he watched her grit out a pained curse, raise her free fist up to her chin and strike it down in rapid succession. She truly did not care for the agony.

Even then - with a hand that held wrongly at the joint, she continued to pummel the mans temple with her other, still free fist - getting three, four, five, six, seven, eight succeeding hits in before she too was sent tumbling off of his kicking form.

Somewhere in the frenzy, Monty had fallen to his knees on the opposite side of where Pippa had scrambled off to.

‘’Rats!’’ Claude howled, as he rolled to his feet, managing to straighten up and stretch out his arms in attempted preparation for the resounding punch that landed smack against the side of his jaw. ‘’Rats!’’ He repeated, as his eyes glazed over. ‘’All of you! I am a god you foul creature!’’ He all but roared before Pitch hit him again.

‘’And I will treat you as such.’’ The master of the house hissed, as the other went down from a third and then fourth blow that connected between his maddened, unseeing eyes. ‘’And I will slay you as the tyrant you remain.’’

-

The shadows had moved back in like a thick, black tide, wrapping around them all in their unspoken need to shield and protect.

‘’Did you kill him?’’ Cupcake, sounding stunned, asked through the pain that seemed to have finally hit proper.

‘’No.’’ Pitch answered her, as he flexed his fingers and stared wide-eyed down at Claudes’ dormant form. Slowly, steadily, his own blood ran over the tips of his claws and further down in heavy drops onto the ruined marble. ‘’They are both still very much there.’’

With a look that remained faraway, she nodded, before they all fell into a tense silence. Then, Jack jolted, as Pitch turned his attention to him.

‘’Can you stand?’’

Jacks hands pressed to the cracked floor, his exhausted body rising slow, though eventually, he managed to get up fully.

‘’For now.’’ Jack wheezed out between grit teeth, as he wobbled dangerously on his feet and fought against the bile that rose to his throat from being anything but stationary. ‘’I think I might get sick though.’’ He said, as he pressed his clammy palms against his knees.

‘’Fetch me a rope.’’ Pitch ordered, as his golden gaze momentarily strayed to Cupcakes busted wrist that she was clutching close to her chest. ‘’Then a lit torch.’’

Jack felt his brows knit together from the command, as he started towards the broken door that they had come through to get it done, when Pippas low scrap of a voice stopped him short in his tracks.

‘’Papa.’’

Pitch’ wild gaze snapped to her and then followed where hers had strayed. Monty had remained collapsed and on his knees on the floor where he had fallen - bloodied hands raised, pressing in and shielding from view what damage had been done to his face.

Alas, the deep cut was revealed, as Pippa gently pried his fingers away.

‘’Papa, his eyes.’’

A mess. All of it.

‘’Blasted-’’ The master of the house cursed when finally, he too noticed the damage done to Monty as well – their holder swift in his stride, as he strode past Claudes’ passed out form with a sneer, stopped by the ghouls side and kneeled down beside the couple. Gingerly, he inspected it, another string of foul words falling from his thin lips, before he moved himself around and pressed the other close.

‘’Do not waste time on-‘’

‘’Be quiet.’’ Pitch interrupted the ghoul on a voice rough and thick with barely suppressed anger – his claws careful not to expand the damage, as further blood thinly trailed under his palm covering what remained of Montys eyes. Wordlessly, as the ghoul jolted from the sting of it, Pippa snatched his stained hand close in silent support. ‘’How long do we have until he comes?’’

Monty drew a shallow breath, as the bright, golden light flared to life, spreading out, in, and around his head like a halo.

‘’Until morning comes.’’

‘’So less than a seventh hour?’’ Pitch asked, to which the other stiffly agreed. Their holder hummed in return then, the light increasing in glow, as his molten gold once more locked onto Claudes passed out form. Then, he looked to Jack – a hairless brow raised, before he jerked his head softly towards the door that the former had yet to stride through.

‘’I gave you a task Jack.’’ He pressed on a tone, which did not sound nearly as stern, as the one in question thought it ought to. ‘’Go get it done.’’

--

Jack ran a finger over the bandages that he was binding his holders hands with. Both were still bloody, the points of puncture from where his own claws had dug into his palms barely visible after a swift cleaning, but still bleeding profusely regardless. Idly, and with hints of care, Jack dared to glance up at the other, while Pitchs focus remained solely on what he had set in motion – the master of the house’ expression dead set in a deep-seated determination, as he, like the rest of his servants, gazed at the mansion before them.

Behind, the horses had been packed with as much as they could carry, the meager provisions that they had left all gathered in haste and strapped onto the mares strong backs in whatever bags and pouches that they had been able to dust up on the spot.

Still, Jack mused, as he tied the ends of the bandages together and briefly checked them over for any immediate, needing to be fixed flaws – While he understood the need for the closure that it would bring, it still hurt to be this close to the literal inferno.

‘’It’s done.’’ Jack said on a mere murmur of a voice, as he gingerly caressed the tip of a finger over one of the four small spots of red that quickly spread out over the pristine white of the fabric that he had used.

‘’Thank you.’’ Came the equally low reply.

‘’So,’’ Jack started though he knew that he would get no answer ‘’where are we going?’’ He asked.

As he had thought, Pitch answered him none. Instead, his holder turned his newly bound hand, moving it down to place clawed fingers against the small of Jacks back, before guiding him along.

‘’Depends.’’ Pitch, well after he had helped the other up into Adriane’s saddle, settled in behind him and pressed him close, answered a good minute later. ‘’Depends on whether or not Bunnymund will let us in.’’ He said, as he gestured for the depressing image of what remained of their small group to depart. ‘’Depends on whether or not we survive the journey at all.’’

‘’He will, won’t he?’’

‘’He has every reason to deny us entrance to his grounds.’’ Pitch clipped in reply and if he did not sound overly hopeful for a positive outcome, then Jack did not want to linger on it. Minutes remained in the heavy quiet that followed, the burning mansion a bright point against the night sky, as they trailed off into the dark – their holders back straight, as he led the way. Then, Pitch leaned down close to Jacks ear and added a sentence softly enough so that only the latter would hear.

‘’We are after all, dragging the occupied shell of a newly possessed with us.’’

Chapter Text

The wind howled around them in defiance, kicking up the fresh snow, making it dance and further chilling the small party to the bone, as they huddled together at the bottom of the harsh, crude slope of dark-grey stone and green, protruding ivy. Above, Bunnymund hummed a raspy tune in mock thought, the man pressing a closed fist to his cheek, elbow resting against the low wall, as he stared down in indifferent wonder.

‘’Absolutely not mate.’’ He finally offered back in the face of the requested shelter.

‘’You would leave us to die?’’

‘’Nah.’’ Bunnymund retorted, as he held Pitch’ craned, golden glare - the doctor's brow raised, as he gestured down at Claude’s passed out, still and bound form. ‘’But I would ask you to get that, and yourself included, off my property.’’

‘’He cannot move even a finger.’’ Pitch argued back, as his hold around Jacks middle tightened with obvious scorn and frustration. ‘’He is harmless.’’

‘’For now.’’ Bunnymund gruffed back and visibly, Pitch’ jaw clicked, the curse that escaped through his clenched teeth soft, before he looked off to the side for a beat.

‘’Indeed, for now.’’ He agreed after a moment’s hesitation. ‘’But, if you will it, that threat can be neutralized. With,’’ he said with a hint of disgust close in his tone, teeth visible for a beat, as he sneered ‘’or without the shell remaining intact in the resulting aftermath.’’

‘’And what,’’ Bunnymund clipped back, as he tilted his head ever so slightly – the fist still pressed to his cheek slipping up from the movement, knuckles rough, as they skimmed the skin just below his own eye. ‘’I suppose you hope I’ll help you out with that?’’

‘’If you please.’’

A heavy quiet settled between the two for a beat, the wind loud in the wake of the small back and forth, before Bunnymund cracked the barest of humorless smiles.

‘’I don’t owe you anything.’’ The man scoffed, as his calloused fingers slid up into his own hair and continued down over one of his thick braids. ‘’And besides, I don’t dabble with exorcisms.’’

‘’Perhaps not,’’ Pitch clipped with an air of finality ‘’but as history would have it, you are the person who asked to join forces in the first place.’’

‘’Yeah, I guess I did mate, but quite frankly, I remember that offer ending up with you telling me to go suck an egg.’’

‘’I did not.’’

‘’Did too.’’

‘’I told you no, that does not mean I intended for insults.’’

‘’Well shit mate, one was taken.’’

The two fell quiet again, the snow beating heavily against the concealed gate resting within the twisting ivy, as the rest of the shivering party waited with baited breaths for the inevitable, hopefully positive outcome to the resulting glaring match, which had been brought on by the shared words of the two holders. On, the silence stretched, Jack feeling the cold wrap around his palm and in between the spaces of his fingers, as he bade it to. In truth, he was beyond the point of exhaustion for such feats, the pull draining the lasts of his gained energy away, but, as his baffled curiosity would have it, it was a far too fascinating aspect to let lie. The snow spoke to him, the fresh breath of ancient, untamed winter singing a soft tune of endless wonders in his heart, as he let it rage.

Indeed, impossible and inconvenient as it was for their poor clothing serving as the only shield against the playful element, the wind and the fresh, white cold that fluttered around them was his design, and, by all accords, unable as he was to suppress it, he wanted to learn the language of its gelid tunes.

Beside him, Pippa trembled in response to the resulting breeze that swept in and curled around the hooves of the nervous mares – the girl hunched in on herself, as she tried to preserve her dwindling warmth.

Idly, albeit with a stab of guilt spurring him on, Jack did his best to direct the onslaught away from her person, but alas, he only succeeded in making it worse.

‘’Well?’’ Pitch tried again, their holders shoulders squared but drawn slightly down in defeat, as he already seemed to know the answer to their desperate request. ‘’You would truly deny us refuge in times such as these?’’ He pressed. Then, just as Bunnymunds smile morphed into a wide, gleeful grin, the mans eye twinkling with retribution, a third, familiar voice joined in, before he could get the chance to open his mouth and speak the words that would mark the final demand for them to leave his property be.

‘’Of course, we would not.’’ Toothiana insisted, her bare, delicate hand fluent in its movement, barely hindered by the chill, as it curled over Bunnymunds tattooed shoulder, fingers swift, as they worked their way across the doctors collarbones where finally, they settled. ‘’Or at least,’’ she said as she drummed a quick, light rhythm against the mans bone ‘’I for one do not wish the death of six on my conscience if it can be avoided with something as plain as a bit of hay and a warm roof over their heads.’’ She insisted, painted smile radiant, insistent in its firmness, as it pressed a dash of lingering colour to the doctors cold cheek.

‘’This isn’t your decision to make.’’ Bunnymund huffed, as he lightly, but gently, shoved her invasive person off of himself, to which Toothiana merely laughed a clear, bright chime in response.

‘’Of course it is my dearest.’’ She insisted. ‘’You harbour one fugitive already. Two would hardly bring you much additional mercy as would for the price of the one.’’

‘’In English please.’’ Bunnymund gruffed sourly, as he once more let his chin rest against his fist. Softly, Toothiana took a step forward and joined by his side, her denied hand moving out, palm unbothered by any tremble, as she placed it to the low wall as well. Behind, as the current licking up the slope caught in her heavy, bejeweled fabrics, her gown blew in the wind, colours and pearls and beads moving with strength and elegance around her form, as she likewise bent her back to gaze down at the gathered.

‘’You have allowed the entry of one renegade to pass through already.’’ She clarified. ‘’What is the harm in allowing others, if the result remain the same?’’

‘’Simpler, Tooth.’’

For a beat, Toothiana just glared at the other – the fact that Bunnymund understood not one bit lost on her, as regardless, with a delighted, partly amused chuckle, she decided to play along.

‘’We are all going to die, no matter if you let this bastard stay out here to freeze or not. So, you might as well let him in.’’

Confused, Jack felt his brow furrow, as he dared a glance up at his own holder, who had gone suspiciously quiet in the face of whatever the petty plot of light revenge seemed to be about. Still, he realized, they were not going to be turned away and quite possibly, that had never been the plan.

On the wall above, Bunnymund gruffed a low, contemplating tune of mock thought.

‘’Where’s the fun in that?’’

‘’None.’’ Toothiana agreed on an equally elated hum, as she sent a brief, withering glare in Pitch’ direction when the man let out a low growl of protest – her eyes only softening for a beat, as she locked them onto Pippas uncontrollably, shivering form instead. ‘’But,’’ she continued, the flint back in her voice and gaze, as she drummed a nail against the stone and then drew the tip of it in a small, quick circle ‘’perhaps this is not the time for such trivial talks of fun and old grudges.’’

‘’I dunno Toothy, this seems the perfect opportunity for it.’’

‘’Perhaps so,’’ she softly agreed ‘’but despite repeated examples of misdeeds, I, unlike certain others in our guild, do not believe that I can stomach the idea of leaving the innocent to freeze under such foul conditions as the ones that we are currently-’’

‘’If you would be so kind as to save this childish berating for later?’’ Pitch practically barked back as something old and bitter seemed to pass through his tense, taut form. ‘’Then that would be much obliged.’’

‘’Don’t fucking talk to me of appreciations you gilded wrench.’’ Bunnymund gruffed on something that came dangerously close to a chuckle – the fact that he was enjoying his position obvious, even to the least lucid amongst them. Twice, he slapped a palm to the stone beneath, thick braid slipping over his shoulder and hanging free in the currents, as he leaned forwards, folded his arms and rested both of them on the wall. ‘’Go back to your castle if you want any proper talk from me.’’

‘’It has long since burned to the ground.’’ Pitch retorted on a hiss, to which the other merely lifted a noncommittal hand to circle it by his elbow.

‘’Then go lie in its ashes.’’

‘’One day,’’ Pitch barked on a low growl, his tone wavering with obvious anger, as he glared back up at the softly chuckling other ‘’one day I will have your tongue carved from your-‘’

‘’Nah mate, that’s no way to bargain for passing to someone’s land.’’ Bunnymund grinned, as he started to play with a stray leaf of the twirling ivy. ‘’You gotta focus on what matters, yeah?’’ He huffed in delight. ‘’Your people are starving, aren’t they? They’re hurt, they’re cold. You’re all cold. I turn you away right now and you won’t make it through the night.’’

‘’So let me in.’’ Pitch clipped, to which the other wagged a stern finger in retort.

‘’Let us in.’’

‘’It is the same whether or not I phrase it as a plural speaking, you nit.’’

‘’It is not.’’

‘’It is.’’

‘’Are you daft or just simply-‘’

‘’Aster!’’ Toothiana snapped loudly enough to make even the nearly slumbering Cupcake jerk awake with a start, successfully interrupting the two, before she, with a nod, gestured down at Pippas shivering form. ‘’Her lips are tinted blue.’’ She insisted with a pointed look in Bunnymunds direction, to which the man merely shrugged a shoulder.

‘’And?’’ Bunnymund rasped, to which Toothiana likewise tabbed a palm to the stone right beside where the mans own lay.

‘’And, as entertaining as this is, this is a tad indecent. We have already allowed them passage and yet, you insist on keeping them dormant.’’ She pressed gently, the silence heavy for a beat between them, before she continued in a quieter, much more hushed tone. ‘’I understand your reasons, but this will soon border on cruel.’’

‘’It already is love.’’ Pippa managed to murmur through her clattering teeth and finally, it seemed to crack whatever had fueled Bunnymunds insistent resolve. With one last thoughtful hum, the man tabbed a palm to the stone, his eyes narrowed, as he glared down at Pitch.

‘’I’m gonna take care of your peoples wounds yeah, but you gotta stay outta my path, until we need to chat on how to proceed with our little hunt.’’ He clipped. ‘’That clear?’’ He pressed, to which the other stiffly nodded.

‘’Perfectly so.’’

The two kept the stare on for another good beat, before Bunnymund drew the tip of a finger in a slow circle over the rough stone – a resulting rumble cracking through beneath, as the ivy shook and twisted away to reveal the opening gate. Beyond, infinity dark seemed to pool, Jacks eyes needing to adjust for a moment, before they registered the steep, dark slope that descended down into an intimidating nothingness.

Nervously, the mare beside him tossed her head in a fit of fright and wordlessly, seemingly on instinct, Pitch reached out a hand and caressed it down her mane.

Instantly, she calmed.

‘’Sandy is here already and North will come sometime midday on the day after tomorrow.’’ Bunnymund yapped just loudly enough to be heard over the creaks and groans of the grinding metal coming apart and sliding into the walls of the tunnel before the relieved party. ‘’You’re all free to roam around until then, but, unless there’s an emergency, stay outta the left wing. I don’t wanna to see you,’’ he barked, as the earth itself seemed to bend and break, creating a narrow path of dirt and rock and steel just wide enough to let them pass safely through ‘’and I don’t want to hear you unless I absolutely have to.’’

‘’Got it.’’ Cupcake lowly mumbled somewhat sourly behind Pitch, as the man ordered Adriane into motion. ‘’Good riddance.’’ She gruffed into her good palm in order to stifle what could both have been a yawn and a deep scowl, to which their holder softly snorted in agreement.

‘’It will be alright.’’ Pitch roughed, as behind them, the steel, rock, and ivy creaked and crawled its way back to cover up the opening that had allowed them through – the path behind them fading back into nothingness, as it collapsed in gentle bursts of harsh dust and pebble. Funny, Jack mused, as he jerked his head back and around his holders annoyed form to look at the wondrous nature of what had just occurred – how it felt more as a trick of divine power and less of any machinery controlling it so.

-

On, the path stretched for a good minute or so, leading them further in and under the ground itself, the dark thick at first, before ahead, and just as Pitch gingerly nudged at Jack to get him to sit up proper and not cause Adriane further confusion from his restless movements, a soft, golden glow approached them. In return, Pitch’ sigh was obvious, the heavy tension nevertheless leaving his shoulders, as trails of what appeared to be pure light and a gently moving mass of sand reached out to them in greeting.

Ahead, the light flared, golden rays dancing across the walls with its sudden, quick bursts and lowly, Pitch hummed in acknowledgement to whatever it was that he had understood from it.

‘’I know you disapprove.’’ The man said ever so softly, his tone tired and worn, as he by the sound of it, answered an unvoiced question. ‘’But what am I to do? Times have changed. I cannot apologize for what has passed when we still face the direct source of the reason, and no, I refuse- and no, that hardly makes me heartless.’’ He said, as he looked down to the side and glared at the trails of sand gently moving them by.

A beat of silence passed then, the moving mares pants and stomping hooves muffled by the nature of the floor that they trod on, before the light ahead flared again, brighter this time, to which Pitch let out a subdued fit of chuckles.

‘’Oh no, by the heavens, no- do not berate me as well old friend, my heart can hardly take it right now.’’ He said, just as he reached a hand down to snatch Jacks out of the glowing sand stalking them by. Tightly, he kept the limb in his hold, fingers gentle, as they squeezed both his own and that of Jacks against the latter’s chest. ‘’And yes, some comments in passing may be deserved, but kindly, preserve them for the morning to come instead of laying them all out while we so desperately require slumber.’’ He hummed. ‘’And yes, indeed, I would suppose so and yes, aid in such would be appreciated. I doubt any sleep would come naturally after this. Ah, of course it is. Yes, thank you.’’

‘’Pardon me, but who the hell are you talking to?’’ Jack, unable to help himself, asked, as he dared a glance up at his holder, to which, softly, the other gestured to the path in front of them with a curt nod. Confused, he looked back down again, Jack still unable to see anything but the bright, golden light and the gentle tosses and movements that Adriane’s head made.

Then, as Pitch further nudged him to lean slightly to the side and by so, removed the slight visual blockade that Adriane made up, Jacks gaze widened in response, as he laid eyes on the tiny, clad entirely in golden fabrics, man, which awaited them at the end.

‘’Wait,’’ he asked on a baffled voice, just as a few signs and symbols formed and flashed above the golden mans little head – Jacks holders slight grin widening in a tired fashion, as he seemed to recognize the unmistakable glee that had taken ahold of the other ‘’is that-?’’

He knew who that was – had heard stories whispered in between the mouths of youngsters staying up way past their bedtimes.

‘’Indeed.’’ Came the amused reply and somehow, Jack understood that it was not just his question that was being answered.

-

Sanderson helped Monty along, the warmth of his sand close, wrapping around all of them, easing the shivers out of Pippa and the rest alike, as he warmed them through. Perhaps, it was a tad weird to have an ever moving blanket of sand serving as a makeshift, partly sentient comforter, but, as things stood, it was necessary and already much appreciated.

Still, the warmth brought a sleepy feeling with it and Jack, as well as the others, were far too tired to question it, the safety of their situation or the urgency of it all for that matter, as they were nudged along the lit tunnel and into a small, oval room somewhere along it. The floor here remained as bare as the ground that they had traveled over, but, with the sand and the closeness to its alluring sway, it was warmer here and quietly, with a genuine smile that never leaved his features, Sandy arranged them all on pillows and blankets and bid them to drift off without much of a hassle.

Despite the fact that Claude, still unconscious, was dragged off to gods knew where, Cupcake soon to be called for as well to have her hand attended to, it was perfectly fine.

It was a faked feeling - the push behind the delicate design tailored for the control of a deep, forceful calm. Jack knew that, but gladly, he welcomed it in. Still, however, a small whisper of doubt remained; was it not weird for none of them to react when one of their own had just been-

Eyelids heavy, Jacks whole body felt overtaken by a calm, sleepy feeling and greatly, he yawned in relief, as he shifted on the soft blankets - the normal unease of bodies pressing in on him as he slept, mercifully staying at bay, when he knew that it should not.

Behind him, Pippa shifted as well, her hand snaking around Monty’s middle to cuddle up close.

It was peaceful. It was good. Claude’s distant roar of rage that echoed through the tunnels meant nothing. It was nothing and despite of Sandy’s apologetic smile telling him that yes, it was indeed real and very much wrong in its disturbing nature, it was okay.

It would all be okay and so, with the press of gently moving sand and distant screams singing him to sleep, Jack fell into deep, undisturbed slumber for the first time in what felt like ages.

Chapter Text

All things considered, Jack decided, as he stretched out on the thick warmth of the shielding blankets, his hand coming up to rub the crust from his eye, before gingerly, he blinked them open to get his bearings - he had slept better than he had in years.

It was warm where he laid. It was good despite the slight chill still singing in his bones.

Delightfully, he mused, the soreness that his body suffered felt as if from the kind that only comes after a profound period of heavy labor and, with an elated groan, he placed his loosely clenched fists above his head and arched his back enough to make it audibly pop.

Still, that was a tad odd, was it not? Certainly, they had been busy, but he could hardly recall anything that should have warranted for such exhaustion as to the one that-

Abruptly, his hand froze where it had lowered itself to press to his mouth in order to stifle an insistent yawn, Jacks eyes wide, alert with urgency, as the events of the past day and the night proceeding caught up with him in a messy heap of tumbled, disarrayed pieces of memories-

The chimes of breaking glass, the collectors, the chill in the halls, the taste of fine wine whispering sweetly in his veins and herding him towards a confession that had not been entirely dismissed.

Confused by the rapid speed of information that his emotions frantically tried to scramble over and properly deal with, a deep, conflicted warmth purred in his chest and tickled at his insides in response to that last, quite pleasant part of it. The soft smile that spread across his bruised features only lasted him a beat however, before something else trickled in and pressed through - the more important parts of what had happened that night coming back with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

The sensation of wind against his guts as he fell. The ancient tunes of ice in his blood followed by… Bones breaking, blood on the cold marble floor. The warmth of a roaring fire, but something had come before the flames, something that-

The absolute terror of the possessed ambush.

Jack shot up on the disturbed blankets, head swimming from the sudden movement, as he jerked his head about to count those sleeping near, only to stop short in that as well. Pippa and Monty were safe, still fast asleep beside him – the ghouls eyes haven been bandaged over at what he reckoned to be a point under their heavy slumber.

The pristine fabric of them felt too clean to look at, the whites glowing in the else dimness of the room that they had been herded into and with a pang, Jack averted his eyes from them. With a shudder, he recalled the flare of golden light that had mended the torn flesh back together and, while it was most likely for more than that reason alone, he could not help but wonder if the appliance of the bandages were for Montys’ sake or more for the ones around him.

Still, that left Claude and Cupcake missing amongst their numbers and, before Jack could think better of it, he ordered his trembling legs to move, hands slightly clammy, head spinning, as he used the far wall for support.

He did not quite want to accept the drowsiness in his bones and yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew. Knew the reason for it all and yet, the concept of it still seemed so far removed from anything that should have been a part of his reality.

It was not real, Jack mused to himself, as he managed to locate a door and press the handle down to stumble out into the tunnel behind. None of it could be.

But it was, was it not?

Still, by all accounts, he roughed, as he had to stop and lean against the dirt of the wall to gather his breath before pushing on ahead - he had hardly attracted injuries in the same sense as the rest of the others had. Roughly, he shook his head as if to clear it.

No. It would not do to feel guilty of what he had no control over.

-

If the room that he had just left behind had been dim, Jack soon realized, then the tunnels connecting to the one that he had just managed to stagger through was practically black – small pinpoints of softly glowing fungi and fragile flowers swaying gently around his feet the only thing to guide him along. As so, he had no real sense of direction and was left to wander the winding, unfamiliar tunnels of dirt and rock and flowers and what he reckoned to be evergreen foliage at random, until they started to light up enough for him to see the ridges and curves of the walls that he was clutching himself to.

Perhaps minutes passed like that, perhaps it was an hour, but eventually he did find his way to what he knew would be half of what he had sought out to find.

He did not mean to pry. Be it curiosity, worry, or something else, he just needed to know.

Ahead, further down the tunnel, a thin sliver of light spilled out from under the crack of a door – the light nearly blinding to his sensitive eyes, as he stalked closer and squinted against it.

Still, there was a very real chance that this was the west wing and if such, he was sure to be in trouble if he was caught passing through like this. Regardless of that fact though, he had no tangible clue as to which part even was the west wing and really, he could hardly be blamed if he accidentally stumbled onto it.

Forcing down the slight panic that rolled in in the wake of his dwindling calmness- and then taking a deep, grounding breath once he started to notice the small droplets of blood trailing along the tunnels floor just beneath his feet, Jack, as though in a daze, followed them like the macabre trail of breadcrumbs that they were. Followed, until they stopped right at the edge of that harsh, biting light.

Ever so gently, the beam of light under the door was pulsating, increasing in intensity until he had to completely shut his eyes and turn his head away less it do more than simply sting. He would have expected a primal growling to be heard inside. He would have expected harsh biting noises that could as easily have been throaty taunts or something worse. Something equally malicious in their hateful nature.

Instead, however, what reached his ears was the soft lull of empty promises and obvious lies.

Safety and peace.

The concept was a mock at this point.

A soft chime of laughter rang out, gritting against his raw nerves, as the light inside died down with a shuddering hush. Carefully, to the tunes of faltering reasoning spilling out beside the ill-fated glee of the speaker, Jack dared himself to creep the rest of the distance up to what remained of the dying flickers, making it nearly to, just as the door was ripped open.

With a start, he jerked back, breath stuttering out of his constricted throat and scrambling to form a swift apology, but the man that he recognized as the good doctor either did not notice his presence or gave it no care. Idly, Bunnymund stormed past with a string of curses spilling from his bleeding lips, a slash across his chest and shoulder accompanying the fixed sneer on his face, as his quick strides carried him away and into the door opposite the tunnel.

Jack bit the inside of his cheek hard then, the fingers splayed on the rough soil of the wall, that he had pressed himself flat against, digging in just as so.

While he had never actually had the pleasure of meeting the golden-clad man that had greeted them the night before, not before now at least, Sanderson was one that he recognized well. True, the stories did not do justice just how warm his smile was, how gentle his eyes twinkled, but his ability to bring calm from a single glance and the ridiculously shortened height? That much had been acutely spot on.

As for the parts that Jack wondered about, the parts that had drawn his curiosity. The parts that would matter for their situation and all that had come to pass of words of cores and charms and magic. It was said that Sanderson dwelled in the arcane, in the macabre and out of this world, unnatural arts. Those were just stories of slander of course, mostly made to cause scorn whenever the little star of a man would tread through polite society, but, after all that he had seen of events over the past months, Jack would no longer bet his livelihood on it being just that.

The man could make golden sand move and dance about with little more than a wave of his gloved hand for Celeste's sake.

Gingerly, he shot a glance at the door that Bunnymund had gone through, checking with a held back breath to make sure that he was not about to be caught red handed, before creeping closer to the wide crack of the now open door opposite.

This could so easily be a mistake and if it were to be done, then he would have to be quick about it. One peek, just one, to confirm if his suspicions were correct or not. No harm done. Over and out with before anyone could even notice that he had strayed into territory where he most likely – scratch that – definitely, was not welcome.

One last shallow breath was drawn, before he carefully peeked his head around the curving frame of it. Immediately, it became obvious that neither Sanderson nor Claude could be seen from the angle that he was keeping himself at, but, judging from the golden swirling of glittering sand, the small star of a man was indeed present.

What he could see however, was Pitchs look of fierce concentration, the rage in his eyes wild and barely kept in check from his seated position just opposite the door that Jack kept himself at. His holders hands were laced in front of his thin mouth, claws flexed, elbows on his restless knees, as his molten gold stayed locked and barely blinking onto whatever was going on inside.

Then, half of whom Jack had sought to find started to speak in a soft and tender voice, the words too low for him to catch, but visibly, it made Pitch bristle with unease – the pulsating light flickering in his narrowed eye, as once more, it rose in intensity. Slowly, as his curiosity not so subtlety raised a demand to hear the spoken words as well, Jack pressed himself closer to the opening of the door itself, all cautions of being spotted lost to the wind, as a pale, warm beam of that biting light graced his chilled cheek and seeped through.

Warmth. It really did feel amazing.

Jack did not quite feel in control of his own body as he stepped closer, into its full embrace and now, finally able to properly see what was transpiring as he was, he caught sight of what would else have seemed a serene scene. Inside, if not for the twisting, curling strands of what appeared to be pure, glowing gold wrapping around his neck, his feet, his arms – everywhere that they could reach really, Claude tilted his head at the reaction that he had managed to force out of Toothiana as well.

‘’Have you ever given thought of how it feels to drown? How it feels when the cold of the water fills your lungs and clouds your head with a sense of acute despair?’’ The one that had stolen Claudes voice droned on in that casual mock of a polite laugh.

To her credit, Toothiana barely flinched at the words that were quite clearly addressed to her. On her shoulder, one of her little birds chirped an irked sound in her defense - its singed feathers fluttering, as it puffed up its chest in a tiny show of great, indignant protest.

‘’And your point with this would be what exactly?’’ Her dry snap of a voice challenged back, one delicate brow rising, as she likewise crossed her arms over her chest.

‘’In truth,’’ Claude continued in that mirthful tone that was not his ‘’it is by technicality not the water itself that makes it so immediately, but the fact that one attempted to draw breath while fully submerged that commences the process of drowning.’’

‘’And again, what is your point?’’ Toothiana hummed on a slight sigh, her hand coming up to stroke the head of her little bird, as it made its way up and settled in the crook of her coloured neck. In front, Claude merely showed an array of teeth and spite and mischief, as he grinned wide and strained against the glowing binds holding him in place.

‘’That feeling of not being able to get air, the shock as it enters your lungs and freezes you through with a wild, overshadowing panic. Have you ever considered how that must feel? How it feels to have your lungs so full and yet so achingly empty of what it needs in order to carry out such a basic function as breathing?’’

‘’Your point, Jamie.’’

Claude paused for a beat, the grin that was worn on his stolen face widening into what seemed an impossible feat, before he continued on a slower, much more intentionally calm tone. ‘’As is it with smoke as well. That feeling of having your lungs full while they are in fact empty of what is-‘’

The rest of that sentence was lost as the light flared back up to a biting, blinding level. It was painful to behold, making his eyes burn with the tears that Toothiana refused to shed and yet, Jack thought himself glad for it.

A tad shaken, he let out the breath that he had not realized he had been holding, and, seemingly drawn by the subtle sound of it, Pitchs golden gaze flicked to him. Abruptly, a dreadful cold flooded his head, freezing him through, as it snapped him out of whatever stupor that the glow of the pulsating light had caught him in.

Instead, he found himself pinned to the spot by a different kind of pull. A familiar one, and, as Jack shivered under the intensity of it, a snap of fear crawling down his spine at the clear anger that he knew was not meant for him but still crawled through his veins and clogged in his throat regardless, he found himself wanting to turn his head in order to avoid it. It would not let him though, and soon enough, Pitch seemed to realize as much, as he schooled his anger into something bitter and stern, the beat before a dour blankness took over in its stead. The radiant gold moved then, lost from view for a moment as it blinked and looked back to the happily cackling Claude, which, for all sense and purposes, looked as if he was having a grand time at messing with them all.

Leave, Jack

The sound that rung through his head felt distorted and torn, faint, as though it was pushing itself through from the murky depths of a dead river.

‘’Sorry- I didn’t mean to be-’’ Jack managed to hiss out through tightly grit teeth that clattered in his mouth, legs already moving on their own, as he grabbed the frame of the door hard enough to make it groan and crack under his grip. ‘’Sorry.’’ He huffed, as he started to drag himself back the way he had come, though hardly, he had stumbled three steps before his stomach lurched in warning and he once more had to grip the wall for balance. ‘’Just… fuck.’’

Disturbed, he swallowed around the lump in his throat, chest aching, head spinning, as he squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the crude chatter taking place still mere meters from him.

Still, he hardly needed to be told twice. He should not have come here. He should leave.

This was not his to watch.

Startled, his eyes shot open, as the door opposite to the one that he had stumbled back from creaked open and soon, much too soon, steps approached - Jack frozen like a deer in headlights, as Bunnymund shoved past with a rough grunt. As has been with the first however, the doctor did not graze him with a simple glance as much as a word, before he went in and quietly shut the door with a firm click.

Behind, the quiet conversation was muffled, words being passed back and forth at a rapid pace, but still, through it all, the soft laughter never ceased - the tone turning ragged and shrill at odd, pained beats, as the light pulsed and danced and sang a song that Jack no longer had the heart to listen to. Perhaps it was in a direct response to that, perhaps, it was from something else, but, with a strained huff, Jack sank to the floor on shaking knees, his heart pounding in his throat in a manner that he could not understand. Something like this had happened at Norths'. Something similar, but what was it?

Was this fright? Was it a sense of hopelessness? Whatever it was, he wanted it out and with a groan, his shaking hands raked into his disheveled hair, fingers crude, as they tugged hard enough to make a few strands pop loose.

‘’Stop.’’ Jack roughed, as he forced his hands to relent, head falling back against wall with a hollow thunk, which easily drowned in the cacophony of already subtle sounds in the air. Not that there was a reason to voice such wants aloud – the receiver was in no fit state to care for it, nor would he. ‘’Just make it stop already. You’ve proven your point you little shit.’’

It could so easily have been him in there. A few more days, a few more hours of falling and he would have given in as well, he knew that. It was ridiculous to linger on the past like this, but, if all of this had happened before winter truly hit, before the rest of the dark mansions servants had claimed him for their own - if it had been him, if it had been Jack bound and laughing in there instead, would Pitch have done as much as he had currently set in motion for Claude as well? Would he have cared?

Would he had helped him when Jamie waltzed through and dragged him towards a field of late blooming lilies?

‘’Fuckin ridiculous,’’ Jack muttered to himself low enough that only his own panicked mind would hear ‘’you are being utterly ridiculous. This is dumb. Get up. Get up already.’’

Still, his legs refused to answer him no matter how much he tried to get them to move and so, Jack pushed himself forwards instead, palms landing flat on the ground between his trembling knees, as he just barely managed to catch himself against it. The thing that was not quite fright, not quite hopelessness tightened, constricted in his throat, ceasing his full attention, as it made his spine buck with nauseating unease. It made his skin crawl. It made him feel too tight. Strung out. Itchy, and, with a tad more force than was strictly necessary, Jack scratched at the side of his neck with one hand, the other remaining against the ground, breaths strained and thin, as he forced his gaze up.

It was not hard to focus on the pale light that spilled out of the door that Bunnymund had now left open instead, Jacks eyes wide, the breath that rattled out of him burning all the way through, before his throat seemed to close up entirely.

Confused by his own actions, and whatever that urgent feeling in his chest was doing to him, he blamed it on the several shades of weariness tugging at his insides, as he stared in blind panic at the pair of brazen scales that was visible on the table within. As it was, mouth open and with a hand pressed to his reddened throat, he could not help but picture a sack of apples in one and his own forlorn, beaten form in the other.

As the imagined side of the scales holding the apples crashed to the tables wood with a resounding, hollow clack, it was all he could do not to let out a startled, mirthless laugh in surprise.

But of course, he thought through the sharp static in his mind – of course it would be so.

He could not breathe. Could not think. He was nothing. He had nothing to offer. He should leave. He should really leave and instead, his head bowed, the taste of dust heavy on his tongue, as he collapsed against it and curled up on the rough ground.

At least, he thought through the jolt of terror, as a fierce howl tore through the air, the sheer force of which had made the wall behind him shake – at least he was close enough to said wall that should any person need to pass through the narrow space of the tunnel, they could.

By the gods, he was a mess. What was this?

‘Cheaper than apples.’ The voice in the back of his head snapped at him in spite of an answer, his hands shaky still, as they came up to rub and scratch at his stinging eyes, before they lowered down, down further, settling around his throat where they squeezed. ‘What are you good for then, boy?’

Nothing. That was the painfully short answer, which mercifully, did not quite ring true when he felt that it should. This was not like him. This was all wrong. Still, he hoped that Claude would be alright. He hoped that he could recover from whatever it was that had happened to him. What was happening to him.

The blood sang in his ears.

The grip on his throat relented.

His leg twitched and so, he tugged it close to his stomach, eyes still squeezed shut, as he hid his face in his knee. Getting up would be useless. Even if he managed it, he doubted that he could walk in the state that he was in. Idly, he recalled Pitch talking of the forced fatigue that hit him after each of his encounters with the little earl. Was that it then? Had a shard of his powers been eaten?

No, Jack thought, as something else occurred to him - Not entirely. Subdued as it was this far underground, the wind, though dormant and out of his reach, still sang to him. It was still present and idly, he wondered if he would feel it more strongly the closer that he got to the surface.

Probably. Already, he felt it gradually increase, as Claude gained control of his own stolen form. The chatter seemed more strained, the laughter less elated.

Jamie was losing.

With a strength that he did not know he possessed, Jack managed a hand under himself, the elbow that held feeling as though it would snap in half, as he heaved himself up onto his knees and forced himself to stand. His posture remained slumped, shoulder sagged against the wall beside, as he painstakingly stumbled his way back the way he had come. One foot in front of the other. Forwards.

‘’Keep going.’’ Jack grit out on what sounded more like a hoarse murmur to his ear than anything tangible. ‘’Just keep going.’’

Halfway through, a subtle ripple at the back of his mind started to register. It was a mere trickle at first, barely there, but, as it progressed and expanded out, he felt something else take hold. Something cold and sharp and agonizingly white that he readily welcomed back in, and, in its place, whatever else had crept through lost its hold, as it broke with a tired, dry snap that had him seeing white - Jack gnawing his teeth together in obvious pain, as he staggered a few steps forwards before once more regaining his balance.

‘’What-’’ It was a sudden rush of cold and the ancient breaths of gelid winds that wrecked through him again, the soil beneath his feet freezing shut in response, as the first real breath of his own came to him in what felt like hours. ‘’What the fuck-‘’

Jack managed another deep, rattling breath, the tips of his fingers digging into the ice beside him, as he used the wall for support to help him along.

Are you all right?

The reluctantly annoyed question came through clear, loud and stern and good.

‘’No.’’ Jack laughed back, as his feet finally found true purchase on the dead, frozen ground below him. ‘’No, I’m really not Pitch. Not one bit.’’

Chapter Text

‘’It hardly hurts at all, I promise you so.’’ Monty sighed where he sat with his back to the dirt of the tunnel, the ghouls frown thin, as he halfheartedly swatted Pippas attending hands off from his bandaged face.

‘’And Bunny said to check for any signs of infection love.’’

‘’There is hardly anything left to become infected dearest- checking would be pointless.’’

‘’It's not you fool.’’

‘’Cease your fuzz.’’

‘’It is not fuzz, it's called being thorough.’’

Jack looked away from the two and further down the tunnel to where Pitch was standing – the man leaning against the wall as well, a cross look on his face, as they waited for their grump of a host to show. Further ahead, behind where their holder kept his taut back to, the clear chimes of running water could be heard - the scent of something fresh and green accompanying the dusty scent in the air, just beyond the mess of twisting vines and slight soil, which denied them further passage.

North, as it had shown out, had been late – the man welcomed in in a rush of halfhearted greetings by Tooth, as soon as he had arrived disturbingly early, practically still night really, in the morning proceeding.

Now, in the immediate after, all had been called forth and asked to gather in what he had been told would be a grand, circular garden that, by the feel of the winding, now mercifully lit, tunnels that Jack had passed through, seemed positioned somewhere in the middle of the strange, underground plains of rock and soil and sturdy evergreens.

‘’It is not- ah.’’ Monty gruffed on an irked note, just as Pippa managed to get her fingers under the bandages, the fabric lifting off with a graceful motion, to reveal the raised, ragged line of the deep, but healed over cut underneath. As Pitch averted his gaze from the pair, Jack did as well again. ‘’Well?’’ The ghoul pressed, as his neck craned in an attempt to get her to relent. ‘’Are you quite done?’’ He stressed, to which she merely hummed in satisfaction.

‘’I am now, yes.’’

Idly, Jack tabbed his own fingers to the crude ice coating out over the rock under his palm, eyes closing, as he too relaxed back against the wall and opted to ignore his surroundings for the time being. Alas, he only managed the less half of a scarce minute before the pressing of the tunnel became too much.

Hey Pitch? He pressed through, lids half parted, as he looked up at his holder. You look like hell. In response, he heard the other scoff ever so lightly under his breath, a single brow rising, as he nonetheless answered him back.

I have had worse

Are you alright though? Jack stressed. The rest of us got to sleep, but you don’t look the deal. It must have been- he tried, Jack cutting himself short, as the others molten gold found his. The insistent coldness in them was unmistakable, but still, the tone that snapped at him remained soft and reluctantly calm.

Kindly worry for your own situation

Jack blinked rapidly as the radiant gold once more left his, Pitch’ crossing his arms over his chest, as he stared ahead instead. Idly, he watched, as his holders’ chest rose, with the deep, slow breath that he drew.

You’re not alone in this. Jack pressed regardless of the others clear dismissal. Don’t forget that

A tightness remained in Pitch’ jaw, the gentle dark around his shoulders thickening in response, inhale sharp, as the side of his head thunked against the dirt of the wall beside him. Gradually however, though it was only the slightest of bits, some of the most acute parts of the tension did seem to leave him.

Thank you

As it was, it would be a good half an hour longer, before Bunnymund trod through and made the blockade of green slip aside to let them pass.

--

Cupcake, for all sense and purposes, was looking quite the picture of contentment – the butch’ smile warm, wide and welcoming, as she chatted away with Pippa on the green of the gently swaying grass. Absently, she scratched at the inside of a finger, just where the tight cast that extended from her knuckles and up most of her arm as well was located.

To the pairs left however, doing his best to appear calm, though clearly, he was tethering on an impatient edge, Caleb was hunkered down as well, the man worrying a strand of grass between his hands, as he anxiously waited for any further word on what had happened to his twin. None of the others had been told any specific details of Claudes condition yet either and so, they had opted to give the lost-looking brother the space that he so clearly needed.

‘’Sleeping.’’ Had been the immediate, grit out reply, when Caleb had stumbled over to Bunnymund and asked about it. ‘’The nits’ mind will heal far faster if he gets to rest.’’ Insensitive as it was, the doctor had refused to acknowledge the situation further than that, his scowl staying perfectly in place, as he had shoved past and strode over to a round table in the middle of the garden, where swiftly, he dragged out a chair and sat down in it.

Despite that, Jack mused, as he watched the broad muscles of Bunnys’ tattooed back work, as his hand jerked about rather roughly, to put emphasis on whatever it was that he was trying to relay onto the other holders – despite his attempts for it to seem otherwise, he did quite obviously care for them.

With half an impassive eye, on his front and with his form nearly covered by the caressing sway of the grass, Jack redirected his focus back onto Caleb, his eyes narrowing, as he watched the man let go of the crumbled strand. Instead, Caleb set to fiddle with the edge of his sleeve in a fit of nervous energy - his nails suffering under the bite of his teeth, as he breathed out a deep-felt sigh of frustration.

His brother would be alright though, that much Bunnymund had at least had the decency to promise him.

With that pressing matter on the whereabouts of the others loved relative so far settled, Jack gruffed to himself, as he closed his eye again and turned his face to hide it in the grass. Selfish as the notion felt, the whole ordeal of having both Emma and Sophie stay behind to keep an eye on Norths’ workshop, had left him in a bit of a downtrodden mood as well. He knew that he could hardly complain about such, but that did little to ease the ache of missing his little sister something fierce. In the end however, his reason barged in unannounced and entirely unwelcome, the road and the foul weather was far too dangerous for a little girl to be dragged out onto.

With those thoughts churning through his skull, Jack let out a yawn into the soft green, fingers curling into the healthy strands of it, as he turned on his side and nestled his head in the crook of his arm. Below, as he smoothed out a hand, he felt the steady thrum that ran deep below and seemingly through the very soil itself, beat against his palm.

It felt rhythmic. Intentional. Almost hypnotic. A heart, he had heard Pippa softly mutter to Monty on a voice full of wonder, as they had been led in – with tunnels stretching out instead of veins.

In a way, Jack reckoned, as he nestled further into the warm grass and got comfortable, she was properly quite correct in that assumption.

-

It must have been a good hour and a half later, when a gentle hand nudged at his shoulder, and once more brought him back into a waken state. As he cracked his eyes open and blinked up to see who it was, he was met with an equally exhausted-looking Pippa. ‘’Wha?’’ Jack had started on a rasp of a voice, only to have her gesture out towards the mouth of the tunnel that they had originally come in from.

‘’Pitch asked me to wake you up love.’’ She explained as she cracked a soft, but clearly tired smile. ‘’Seems they settled on us staying the month out, so we are getting our own rooms for the time being.’’

Gladly, and a tad out of it, Jack accepted the hand that Pippa extended down to aid him stand, his free own quick to move out and brush the worst of the grass from his form, before he trailed after the ones departing from the garden.

--

In the end, finding a room and claiming it for his own was not exactly a hard ordeal, Jack opting to choose one as close to the surface as he was allowed to take. Around it, the tunnels had quickly become far easier to navigate, once he had gotten the general sense of them - the system feeling much like a spiral going outwards, with tunnels and caves and gardens connecting each of the larger ones together into a grand, wide web of curving designs. The west wing, which now, they had been shown the denied edges of, were still off-limits, but as for the rest, they were still allowed free passage to roam about as they pleased.

In truth though, Jack thought to himself, as he wandered an outgoing line of the spiral at random, all of the edges looked the same.

More than once, he had found that the end of a tunnel had descended into that steep, beckoning drop of nothingness, Jack keeping himself at distance from it, not daring to get too close, less he slip, fall and rather abruptly find out if the darkness had a physical bottom or not.

Still, no tasks were them given, and with no real labor to do, the wandering about in the pathways quickly became repetitive - the amount of time in which they were left to do nothing seeming overwhelming, as Jack passed them through. As such, it was quite honestly a relief when he found the horses further down, the scents of rich spices and metal heavy in the air, as he entered in through what appeared to be the entrance to a rather impressive set of underground stables.

Ahead, a grand, impatient whine rang out alongside the stomping of restless hooves - Adriane’s great, sturdy mane flying about her form, as she tossed her head in elated greeting. ‘’Easy,’’ Jack laughed, as he stalked up close and buried his face in her black, rough fur. ‘’Easy girl.’’ She still smelled of cinnamon, the dusty press of it close, invading and familiar to his senses, as he caressed a hand down over her side.

If anything, he reckoned, she seemed to appreciate the company as much as he himself did.

Still, he thought to himself and then muttered the protesting idea aloud; she should not be here, removed from the relief of fresh air and trapped far underground in a place where she clearly did not belong.

Softly, as though understanding the words spoken, she whined in response and really, Jack could not have kept the fleeting pang of pity, which snapped in his chest for her at that, at bay. As such, after having made a swift sweep of the place and orientated himself of its layout, he ended up spending the night and the next three to come hunkered down in a pile of the fresh hay, which had been laid out for mares. As the fourth evening gave way and thus marked the end of another tedious and slow day, Adriane had folded her legs and laid down beside his curled up form, joining him, in a way that almost felt like a sense of shared camaraderie.

--

It had been close to the passing of the better half of a week already, before Jack truly started to feel as if he would burst at the seams with boredom. Greatly, the others seemed to share the conviction, the lot of them just as restless, jittery, on edge, as they willed the days to pass without somehow going insane in the process. Perhaps it was born from that idle desperation, perhaps it was something else that Bunnymunds annoyed resolve finally seemed to crack. It did not feel as a sense of acceptance towards their - as the doctor had stressed - temporary presence, as much as it did an increasing sense of reluctant tolerance for it, which made him offer up access to some of the more intricate, plentiful gardens that had else been closed off before that.

One such, a small round garden of red and greens and purples, held a rather generously sized lake, and seemingly as one, unanimously, they had claimed it for their own – the water cool, fresh, serving as a great distraction, as they lazed about and waited for further instructions as to what was to happen. Waited for something, anything to happen really.

‘’Could you pass me an apple dear?’’ Pippa, on her back in the tall of the swaying grass, said with a flash of a warm smile, as she stretched her arm out expectantly towards Monty. The ghoul hummed a noncommittal reply, the fingers on the hand that was the least engaged in his own set of knitting pausing, before he reached them out and snatched one close from the shared basket behind him. A tad stiffly, he held it forth for her to take, the direction only a little off course, his seeking fingers nearly finding hers on their own, before she took it from his hand and gratefully bit into it.

Beside the two, Jack kept his eyes locked on the twisting vines that served for a door. His brow remained furrowed, the gears turning loudly in his head, as he tried to calculate the distance between the stables and the garden itself and, most importantly, whether or not the good doctor would notice if he dragged Adriane and her brethren along and let them loose on the small, green plains of it.

Bunny probably would.

Only one way to find out.

--

Greatly, Jack strained his ears and listened for any impact – Caleb and him holding their breaths, as they heard the pebble drop and then keep dropping, after Cupcake had drawn her good hand back and thrown it over the edge of the steep slope at the end of one of the spirals winding tunnels.

‘’Maybe it was too small?’’ Caleb mused, as he looked back at Cupcake, to which the butch merely shrugged in a noncommittal fashion.

‘’Find something bigger we can throw then.’’ She answered.

‘’Like what?’’ Jack hummed and beside him, Cupcake shrugged again. A thoughtful quiet lingered for a beat, before loudly, Caleb snapped his fingers at his side and retrieving forth an apple from a pocket in his red, thinly woven coat.

‘’I was kinda saving it for later, but we got so many anyways.’’ He explained, the man standing from the crouch that he had been in, before squaring his shoulders, arm drawing back in the same fashion that Cupcake had done with her small offering, before hurling it full force at the seemingly endless pit ahead.

The apple bounced off the wall opposite with a small bonk, before gravity took hold and made it plummet into the steep, intimidating dark.

The impact never came.

As one, they all stopped, eager for the belated sound of the fruit hitting ground to sound, but as the seconds passed by into a near half minute, the ludicrous truth of the matter seemed obvious.

‘’Perhaps we just missed it?’’ Caleb tried, as he dared a small step towards the intimidating drop. ‘’The sound I mean. The dirt of the walls might just have muffled it.’’ He grumbled on, but alas, the argument seemed weak and after Cupcake had managed to locate an entire log from a fallen tree, dragged it with and hurled it in, they had to accept the fact as being just that.

--

Jack kept himself halfheartedly hidden among the pink and purple of a bush that was entirely too filled with thorns for his comfort – the shrill, irked sound of a shout already ringing out, before he had barely managed to sprint and duck headfirst into its sharp cover.

Down his cheek, a small trickle of red was steadily making its way, the drop falling, soaking into the shuddering soil beneath his bare feet, as Bunnymund paced about and yelled a string of colourful profanities aloud. Beside the good doctor, looking entirely too exhausted, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, Pitch seemed to be doing his best to keep the scowl on his face that, if one knew him well enough, was still entirely too amused for the situation at hand.

Carefully, Jack moved a hand to flick a stray leaf out of his eye, in order to better see the result of the equine mayhem that he had quite literally unleashed. As such, he watched, as Bunnymund flung out an arm towards one of the mares that was happily drinking away at the freshly running water of the lake, the good doctors head lowering, eyes narrowed, as he spun, and, with an indignant yell spilling from his sneering lips, pointed a crude finger directly at Pitch.

In response, Pitch merely raised a hairless brow, the corner of his lip quivering, as he clearly fought against the tug of an insistent, thoroughly pleased smirk. And, really, Jack did try to not snicker at the sight of Bunnys eyes widening, as his head snapped to where one of the mares had started to munch on the low hanging fruits of an apple tree.

Somewhere at the far end of the garden, Adriane tossed her head, her mane flying about wildly, as she stomped her hooves against the ground, a whine ringing out in warning, before she took off at breakneck speed. For a beat, her massive form blocked both holders from view, as she galloped closely past the huffing Bunnymund.

-

The question had come in, loud and clear, as Jack had curled up beside a much relaxed and content Adriane in the stables that same night. If it had sounded an awful lot like appreciation, then Jack opted not to comment on it.

Was the acute consequences worth it?

The good doctor had not specifically banned him entrance to the gardens for it. He had however, upon finding Jacks rather cut up form in the bushes, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and, with a grit out growl and a stern warning to not return less the rat of a pain in the behind servant wished to suffer any grave bodily harm, kicked him out of the Northern wing all together.

‘’Yep.’’ Jack laughed right back, as he buried his face in the rough fur beside him. ‘’Not gonna lie, it totally was.’’

Pitch had sounded tired, as Jack had heard him chuckle darkly in response.

Scream if he attempts to murder you in the night

The request had not entirely sounded like a jest, but still, Jack had felt himself grin wide despite its foreboding nature.

‘’I will.’’ He solemnly promised. ‘’Oh and Pitch?’’ He said and then continued, as he got a hum of acknowledgement in return. ‘’Try and catch some sleep, will ya?’’

The soft pants of Adriane was the only thing to be heard in the stale air of the stables, the scent of cinnamon close, as he relaxed further against her form and waited for a reply. In the end however, he did not get one and, while knowing better than to press his luck on the matter, Jack did not push for it either.

Chapter Text

‘’Claude!’’

A happy shout rang out into the stifling warmth of the underground air, Jack looking up just in time to see Pitch step to the side and out of harms immediate way, as the wide-eyed Caleb shot up and bolted straight for his tired-looking but elsewise grinning brother.

‘’Bloody hell, where have you been!’’

Somehow, the man managed it through the sway of the grass without tripping.

Behind, lounging about in the tall green as they had been, the rest of the burned mansions servants remained quiet, as the two hugged it out something fierce. Still, Cupcake was beaming with increasingly depleting impatience - the butch’ shoulders taut with tension, mouth set in a thin, irked line and by thus, she barely managed the scarce half of a good minute, before she shot up, tugged Pippa to her feet as well and dragged her along.

‘’Mercy!’’ Claude barked on a near shout, as his hands nevertheless left his brothers back, arms spread out wide behind, to allow the others space and soon enough, the newcomers had joined the tight, tangled pile of joy and happy reunions. ‘’Mercy! Mercy I say- Cupcake, for the love of the gods-you are crushing my ribs!’’

Absently, as he watched it unfold, Jack twirled a strand of grass between restless fingers, the merriment of the moment lost on him quick, as he noted the tight, heavy cast of fabrics around Claudes’ hand and wrist, which no doubt aided it to heal. If what he had briefly heard in passing from Bunnymund was true, then the wound from the wooden splint had cost the man the loss of movement in one of his three remaining fingers.

Still, Jack mused to himself, as he tugged lightly on the crumbled up strand in his hand and then promptly proceeded to jolt, as it broke with a crystal-clear snap – if not just for his broad smile and obvious delight, then the man looked to be in generally healthy spirits.

Startled, Jack stared down at the mess of ice and cold that he had produced with a frown.

Ah. Right.

That.

‘’Hey uh.’’ He started, Jack biting the inside of his cheek, as he turned his head ever so slightly in Montys’ direction and pondered on how best to address the topic. ‘’So uh-… do you uhm… You know, in regards to your… Do your-… How do you…-‘’ he fumbled, Jack cutting himself off with a slight groan, before he could stumble any further over his own, reluctant words.

Idly, he felt the shift in the air then, as the shadows around his feet gently thickened – Jacks’ twitchy fingers splaying out and letting go of their gelid greens, to allow instead for the tendril of pure dark to curl around the joint of his finger as well. It was a subtle press, the movement barely felt, as it slithered up the arch of his knuckles, the bend of his arm, before it slipped under the hem of his shirt and settled itself to rest along the worried curve of his spine.

‘’You know how you… know. You just… know?’’ Jack tried, as he turned his head fully towards his equally subdued kin.

In the end, it was Monty that breached the matter at hand.

‘’Quite all right.’’ The ghoul said on a light chuckle that sounded foreign slipping off his amused tongue like that. ‘’You can ask me directly.’’

Idly, albeit with a twinge of guilt, which left a sour aftertaste on his tongue, Jack watched Claudes face fall into a mask of stark horror, his hands quick, as they shot out towards Cupcakes casted own, before stopping short – the man’s fingers curling in uncertainty, as he looked to her with an almost pleading expression. Awkwardly, they hovered until her uninjured hand found his and squeezed in reassurance.

The distress was understandable, the sense of culpability even more so, but when all was said and done, it could not have been avoided. If not Claude, then one of the others would have given in with time.

‘’You have something too, don’t you?’’ Jack, more than a little eager to derail his own train of thought, asked. ‘’Something that allows you to know stuff that you shouldn’t be able to.’’

The ghoul flashed him what could have been a smile, could have been a hint of pity, before he once more looked down. To their side, Cupcake shook her head at something that Claude had said. Through it all, her smile never faltered.

‘’I do.’’

‘’What does…’’ Jack tried, as he tabbed a nail at the frozen shards between his lightly parted thighs. ‘’What does yours do exactly?’’

Beside them, Caleb tilted sideways again, the man wrapping an arm around Claudes’ neck, just as the latter hid his face in his hands and likewise shook his head at a voiced question.

‘’I see things.’’ Monty said on a soft breath of air, as his bandaged gaze found the general direction of the solemn brothers. Finally, they watched Claude break a shy, quivering little smile beneath his shielding hands, as Cupcake nudged at his thigh before resting her head there. ‘’Events that have passed. Events that are in the middle of so, or, most importantly, those of which that have yet to come. Sometimes these events show themselves as clearly as the natural sight and at others, it is as if I am seeing them through a thickly woven veil. The figures and gestures are visible, but the details are lost in the fray.’’

Softly, Jack hummed, as he took in the given information. Already, he had expected as much, but the confirmation settled a few stray pieces together. ‘’So back when I met you. You know, back at the auction, did you…? Or maybe I shouldn’t. It’s not really all that important, but it’s just-‘’

‘’You can ask, Jack.’’

‘’Did you see what I would become when you bought me?’’

Softly, Monty shook his head. ‘’No. None of such came to me.’’ The ghoul said simply. ‘’In truth, I had not meant to linger at the marketplace that day.’’

‘’But you did.’’ Jack pressed and lightly, Monty hummed in affirmation.

‘’I did indeed.’’ The ghoul agreed before reclining back on his elbows. ‘’As it was, an image of your head held under water ‘till your lungs gave out presented itself behind my eyelids. In truth, crude as it may be, it was an entirely selfish act that I decided upon changing that image.’’ He said, as he shrugged in that stiff, jerky fashion of his. ‘’As for the rest of what was to transpire, I saw none.’’

Taken aback, Jack openly stared, as he let that confession sink in for a moment. ‘’Oh.’’ He breathed softly and beside him, the ghouls’ shoulders once more jerked in what could have been agreement or something else entirely.

‘’Indeed.’’

Idly, Jack worried the tip of his tongue at the inside of his teeth, as he carded a shard of ice between his fingers. ‘’Well uhm. Shit, thank you for that I guess, that’s-… Yeah.‘’

‘’Language, Jack.’’

‘’Sorry.’’

‘’Quite alright.’’

A heavy quiet fell between them then, and, as Jack looked up and over at the brothers again, he found Claude to be looking as lost as he himself felt. At least, Jack mused - the man’s smile seemed a tad less ridden with guilt, as it had only minutes ago. ‘’So uh. Have you seen how all of this will en-‘’

‘’Do not ask me that.’’

Promptly, Jack bit his tongue at the sharp, cold tone that had snapped at him. ‘’Gotcha.’’ He agreed and again, the topic was left in silence for a good, healthy beat. Regardless of that, the ghoul remained as the one to once more break it.

‘’You know that I can practically hear your thoughts from how loud they are, yes?’’ Monty hummed on a note that did not sound entirely like a mock.

‘’What, you can read minds as well now?’’

Softly, the ghouls back jerked in what Jack reckoned had been a soundless laugh. ‘’I do not need to. Your uncharacteristic silence tells me quite enough as it is.’’ Monty said. ‘’But, if you must know, then no. I cannot. I see events, not emotions or any personal thought that passes through another individuals head.’’ He explained, hand gesturing out with a circling motion by his side, as he tilted his head. ‘’However, you still have questions.’’ He nudged. ‘’Ask them.’’

‘’I have a few yeah, but,’’ Jack agreed, as he touched the tip of a finger to the petals of a flower, which promptly shuddered before freezing solid ‘’I don’t really know where to start in all of this.’’

‘’Start with the urgent ones, then.’’

With one swift move of his hand, Jack crushed the frozen crown up into a fine, sharp powder, which he rubbed between his thumb and index finger. ‘’What exactly is a source and how do I find one?’’

Thoughtfully, Monty hummed at that. ‘’I am not certain on how to explain it in simple terms.’’ He admitted.

‘’Could you try?’’

‘’I suppose.’’ Monty agreed, the ghoul falling further back into the grass, his brow pinched, as he seemed to think hard on it for a moment. ‘’Well,’’ he started, as he once more circled a hand beside himself for emphasis ‘’I suppose the simplest term would be to call it your focus. A way for you to use your core and channel your charm through it.’’

Softly, Jack frowned, as he flicked the cold pinpoints off of his fingers. ‘’Yeah no, I still don’t think I get it.’’

On a hum, Monty seemed to think over it for a great deal longer while, way ahead, Toothiana laughed at something that North had said. ‘’If we are to put it in a more literal sense, then perhaps, try to picture your core as the quill that shields, the feather as your direct source of transition and then most importantly, the flowing ink as your charm. All are equally important, but, should either of these three be missing, then neither will work in your optimal favor.’’

‘’So,’’ Jack started as he mulled it over ‘’the core is a stationary, constant power? It does not run out?’’ He asked and beside him, the ghoul nodded.

‘’You do need to recharge, but as long as you make use of a source, then that is indeed partially correct. If not, the focus will be lost and you will end up hurting yourself in the process. Or worse yet, tiring yourself out beyond repair.’’

Carefully, Jack pressed a hand to the spot above his heart. If anything, he reckoned, the lingering pain in his chest was sustainable evidence of that. ‘’So, how do I find a source?’’ He asked again.

‘’You keep picking things up until something feels correct.’’ Monty said vaguely. ‘’You will know once you have it.’’

Softly, Jack nodded. ‘’What is yours?’’ He asked. ‘’Your source I mean. What did you choose? Or find. Or end up with I guess.’’

A long beat of silence passed, the wind brushing up and between the spaces of Jacks knuckles, as he waited. Finally, Monty reached a hand in under his vest, the ghoul fumbling with it for a beat, fingers searching, before he retrieved out what seemed a small piece of glass. A small pendant, Jack realized, the edges carved crudely, fittingly, into the shape of an eye. Carefully, he hovered the tip of a finger over it, but instinctually did not touch it fully. Beside him, after an additional beat had passed, Monty hummed as he gingery turned it about in his grasp.

‘’In some ways, I have no real need of it on the regular. It is only if I wish to see much further than my charm would else allow that this,’’ he explained, as he traced the side of his thumb over the delicate source ‘’is needed.’’

With a small nod, Jack hummed, before he glared down at the rogue ice under his hand, which had spread out a generous amount, while he had not been paying attention. Beside him, the ghoul tugged the eye back into the safety of its inner, little pocket. ‘’I don’t mean to sound rude Mon.’’

Softly, Monty let out a subtle string of laughter. ‘’And it will not be.’’ He chuckled in his own stiff fashion. ‘’Go ahead, Jack.’’

‘’Do you have any true control over your charm?’’ Jack asked, as he stabbed the meat of his palm to the ice with a slight scowl. ‘’Or is it more like a constant thing that you can’t shut off?’’

‘’Not always.’’ Monty admitted. ‘’But if I wish to, I can see any and all events that have yet to pass, so in a way, yes, I do have control, but on the other hand, no, it is not a sense of complete control that I harbor.’’

‘’But does that mean that it is only the rest of it, which you don’t have any say over?’’ Jack pressed.

‘’It is only the spontaneous, stray images, which I cannot control, yes. They come and go as they please.’’

A tad stiffly, Jack nodded at that. ‘’Well how did you learn to do it then? As much as you can, how do you control it?’’ He stressed. ‘’How do I learn to control it?’’

At that, Monty huffed a poignant, soft laugh that did not sound in the least condescending. ‘’That is for you to figure out on your own. None of us awakens quite in the same fashion, so truly, I cannot tell.’’

A fluttering of wings sounded then, as the little bird with it singed wings and colourful movements landed between the two, its beady black eye blinking rapidly, as its beak pecked at the iced over green with acute curiosity.

‘’So,’’ Jack started, as he scratched at the back of his neck and looked to Pitch. Acutely, their holders attention stayed firm and locked on whatever topic was being discussed between the five seated at the gardens center table and so, Jack glanced at Monty again. ‘’Back on the topic of charms... cores- whatever. What is Jamie exactly?’’ He asked, to which the ghoul huffed in a way that sounded both tired and attentive.

‘’I could not say for sure, that man is an outlier.’’ Monty roughed, as he nodded towards the holders table where North had spread his arms out wide, expression serious, while his tone seemed riddled with laughter. ‘’But, if you wish, if we were to categorize it, then Bunnys and your charms extend over the elemental, while Pippas, Tooths, Norths and mine are of the mental.’’

Softly, Jack hummed. ‘’What does that make Sandy and Pitch then?’’ He asked, as he gathered his legs under him and rested a hand to his knee.

‘’Something else entirely.’’ Monty said, as he extended his own hand down to let the colourful bird wobble its way onto the back of it. ‘’I could not tell you even if I wanted to, but theirs do reign into the territory of the mental as well.’’ He elaborated, as the tiny critter braved its way up the expanse of his arm and finally settled in the crook of his neck.

Absently, Jack scratched at the thin scar on his palm, as he recalled the flare of light that had mended his flesh and skin together, before his eyes fell. Fresh as it was, he remembered well the way that his chest had ached, the small tingle in the back of his head, as the ice was snatched from him.

‘’So,’’ Jack started, as the pieces tried their best to crash and form together into a somewhat whole, bigger picture ‘’the earls charm is of the mental?’’

‘’It might once have been yes, but hardly anymore.’’

Rapidly, Jack blinked rapidly at that. ‘’And what exactly do you mean by that?’’

‘’I suppose you could say that it mutated. It may have started as a mental charm but it morphed and extended out over into the physical plain as well. Later, though I do not know when, he caught a shard of natures charm as well.’’ Monty said and with a snap of subtle fright, Jack remembered the way that the little lights had tried to eat their way through his chest. Absently, he hummed low, as he scratched at the spot as well. ‘’But that shard is not solid.’’ Monty continued. ‘’It is not pure in the same sense that the good doctors and yours is.’’ He finished on a slight sigh.

A few beats passed in which Jack tried to take it all in, his eyes narrowed, before they once more widened and snapped to Monty in sudden understanding. ‘’But wait, that means he has one for his own, right? A source I mean. Whatever his original charm is, he gotta have a source for it and if we find out what it is and crush it then-‘’

‘’Jamies main source is the shards, the ripped out pieces of others cores that he has stolen and continuous to steal.’’ The ghoul softly interrupted. ‘’As it is, he has so many that a situation where he would run out is not one that he would even consider possible.’’

Jack blinked once, twice, eyes frozen from the ludicrous nature of the thought that had passed through his head at that.

But that was just it, was it not? He realized with a start. Pitch intended to make that situation a possibility. He intended to corner the little earl and force his hand until only the original source remained.

‘’Let’s pretend it happens.’’ Jack said slowly, carefully. ‘’Let’s say he runs out of any stolen shards and then only has his own, original one left. What would happen then?’’

Beside him, Monty shrugged. ‘’Then I hope that he has forgotten about what that source is and thus cannot make use of it.’’

‘’So if he uses them all up…’’ Jack tried, before he trailed off. Still, there was no need to finish that sentence – the ghouls’ slight grin said it all.

With enough might that he will choke, Pitchs hiss of an enraged voice rung through his head, as he recalled the bitter words spoken between tightly clenched teeth - His own arrogance will be his be downfall.

There had been so many lights. It had seen like an endless sea of swarming, squirming lights hovering about his crashing form and the idea of it, the divine irony of the situation had Jack swallowing thickly, as he felt cold from more than just the ice coursing through his veins. Dazed, he stared over in shock at the holders table.

Gods, their plan of attack was insane.

Beside him, Monty sat up a little straighter, blind eyes shifting to the table as well, before he continued in a low, much softer tone. ‘’It may not be as impossible as you think,’’ he started ‘’North has a stolen shard as well. One of fire, taken directly from Jamie himself. It is one of the countless reasons as to why the earl fears him.’’

Jacks eyes stung, as he finally remembered to blink. ‘’How did he manage that?’’ He asked numbly, to which the ghoul shrugged.

‘’No clue, but it bothered Jamie something fierce. It still does.’’ Monty grinned. ‘’And as it is, I have a theory on that whole matter.’’

‘’In regards to…?’’

‘’In regards to why Nicholas can use his charms around Jamie while the rest of us struggle immensely. It would make sense really, that if he had managed to carve a piece out of him, which, in a sense is in the quite literal fashion, then that might be why he has such abilities.’’

Sweet as that sounded, it still made a slight frown bloom over Jacks features. ‘’He just said that his core was strong.’’

‘’Oh, it is.’’ Monty hurried to agree. ‘’But if he ever told the ones around him that the reason lay in him haven a stolen shard, and not from any strength that he himself already harbored, then it would take a great deal of belief out of the others.’’

Bewildered, Jack looked to where North had tilted his head, the man’s eyes narrowed, as he listened to something Toothiana was saying.

Belief.

Get others to believe.

‘’Why is that so important?’’ Jack asked on a low voice, as he felt his brow lightly furrow. Close by his ear, the beat of fluttering feathers sounded, the wind rustling up his side and messing with his hair, as the bird seemingly lost interest and took off towards its owner.

‘’Because you cannot use your charm if you harbor doubt in your core.’’ Monty explained. ‘’If you go up against Jamie believing that you will lose, then evidently, you will.’’

With another little hum, this one sounding far more strained than the previous, Jack watched Toothianas little bird land in the palm of her hand - its feathers fluttering in a great show of colour, ash and comfort, as it puffed itself up and toddled up onto her shoulder instead. Lowly, Jack hummed. ‘’Do they even believe that they can do it?’’ He asked, and while he did not get an answer, the pressing quiet told him enough as it was. Idly, Jack worried his bottom lip between teeth, as he thought it over. ‘’Just… Fuck- just, why would he lie about it?’’

‘’He is not necessarily lying.’’

With a tic, the crease between Jacks brows deepened into something that bordered on worry. ‘’But he isn’t telling the truth either.’’

A tad stiffly, Monty shrugged at that, just as Cupcake let out a barking laugh at something that Caleb had said, though, quickly, she sobered under the withering stare that she received from Pitch in response. Beside Jack, Monty hummed low in a sense that felt heavy with secretive passion. ‘’I believe he has his reasons.’’

--

Behind him, a tail of structured ice were carelessly left in his wake, Jack feeling it spread out beneath his bare feet, the tips of his fingers spreading the chill just as so, as he willed the cold to slip out despite the stabbing pains that it brought to his chest. Idly, he pressed at it until it hurt and the tugging behind his heart got overwhelming enough to steal the breath from his already heavily constricted lungs.

Sharp and unyielding, his ice remained a constant - that much was a certainty.

Still, the routine continued, becoming ever increasingly lame. As such, more than once, and as it was with the situation at hand as well, he had had to stop in the middle of one of the curving pathways to catch his breath.

Source, the small voice in the back of his mind urged, he needed a source to channel it correctly.

-

Wandering was a good word to describe the nightly activities. Trespassing tasted truer on the tip of his tongue, but considering the motives, the good doctor would surely forgive the else grave offenses. This, Jack reckoned, this was indeed needed.

Behind a door to his left, which glided open on clean and silent hinges, Jack crept in and surveyed his surroundings. There, on the table, he found an old porcelain vase with delicate flowers in pinks and blues and reds painted onto its bend. As the wind swirled inside and beat against its fragile walls, he felt that it would break less he halt its cold, rapid dance. Softly, he frowned and sat it back down.

No. This would definitely not do.

After that, he found a curved letter-opener made from glass and gold - the handle of which were made of a thick chain, which had been welded straight with its links shut together at their respective ends.

No. This was not it either. Still, it felt a great deal closer to what he sought than the vase had.

Next, a broken sword he found under the plush pillows of a partly, eaten by moths, couch. Better. This felt better and with a spark of joy, which was sharp enough to make his teeth tingle, the winds quietly agreed. Alas, he realized, as he swung the handle of the ruined metal about - the metal felt too constricting for whatever it was that he was trying to do.

Carefully, he slid it back under its soft barricade of wool and threads and fluff.

Quietly, with half an ear still focused on listening for any sound of approaching steps, Jack acted on instinct, as he picked up a log for the fireplace.

Better, but not quite there yet. This was close, but not completely correct. Still, that left him with the answer that he knew was the right one.

Wood.

Whatever it was and wherever he would find it, his source would be made of an organic material.

With a hand raking through the dust that lingered in his hair, Jack felt his eyes sting, as he finally remembered to blink.

--

It had had to be at least another hour of tedious, fruitless searching, when he decided to let it rest for the night being. Arms crossed, the smell of soil and the rich flora that thrived here strong in the air, Jack leaned against the wall beside him and finally let his eyes fall shut for a moment. Truly, he had not thought that the dusty scent of cinnamon was one that he would ever find himself missing and yet, it had come to pass. As such, peaceful as the twining scenery of pink, green, and silvery plants had left him, he jolted sharply in fright, as a cold, dry voice spoke up behind him.

‘’Should you not be asleep?’’

As Jack spun, eyes snapping open in surprise, he found stern but tired gold glaring down at him – and, while the familiarity of its radiance had him calming enough to evenly breathe, the dour demeanor seemed a repeat of when they first met. They were past such spite, Jack knew that, and still, it made his wrists itch with unease. He remained silent for a beat, before offering up a stiff shrug. ‘’Can't.’’

In front, Pitch’ eyes narrowed, the quiet heavy for a beat, as he simply glared.

It’s not me he’s angry with, Jack thought, as he watched his holders shoulders draw taut, whole posture squared, as he seemed to ponder on something - something has happened. The beat passed, the sharp gleam remaining, as Pitch let out a short hum, before he looked away and down the tunnel ahead of them instead.

‘’Walk with me then.’’ He inquired on a voice that sounded worn beyond his years, though clearly, the curt command in it left no room for argument. Irked, Pitch did not wait for him to follow, though he did adjust his pace ever so slightly, as he caught on to Jacks struggling to keep up.

It was quiet for a good while yet as they walked – the soft pitter-patter of Jacks feet on the rock and soil, the only sound audible. Utterly, he felt lost, but at least Pitch seemed to know the way.

‘’So,’’ Jack finally peeped up, after the clenching of his heart had become unbearable ‘’what's going on?’’

‘’Too much.’’ Pitch drawled in response. ‘’Too much and yet, not enough. Not nearly enough. The others seem content to linger here for a great while yet.’’ His holder said, before he let out a tense sigh and clasped his clawed hands behind his back. ‘’Content,’’ he spat on a voice riddled with disgust ‘’content to sit around and twiddle their thumbs while our only remaining window of opportunity shrink by the hour. This place,’’ he spat, as he gestured to the path ahead of them with a stiff nod ‘’is borrowed and not in the least their own. Mark my words Jack, it will burn as the others have. It is not theirs. It is not safe. It is not safe and yet, they wish to linger and I,’’ he roughed, as he shook his head a tad stiffly ‘’I highly disagree on the notion. Despicable. All of it. Utterly deplorable.’’

It hurt, as Jack bit at the inside of his cheek and idly, he reckoned the notion to be by far too repeated for one day already. ‘’I see.’’ He replied simply on a low voice, as his teeth, albeit reluctantly, relented from his flesh.

Beside him, Pitch finally let out a slow, strained exhale.

‘’I had meant to converse with Monty on the topic, but the time of the hour had eluded me and so, he was already fast asleep.’’ He explained on an annoyed huff. ‘’Without the sun as a tell down here, it is easy to lose track of the days progression.’’

Softly, Jack nodded at that but else did not offer up any verbal reply. Beside him, his holder’s lips worked for a few beats, before any words would properly form. ‘’I,’’ Pitch managed, before giving into another deep-felt sigh ‘’I am at a loss for what to do.’’ He admitted, the tone low and dry, as his shoulders seemed to hunch in a tired defeat.

‘’In regards to what exactly?’’ Jack, slightly taken aback, asked, when it became clear that Pitch would not elaborate further.

‘’In regards to you. In regards to all of you. I should send you away. Further away. Somewhere better. Somewhere safe. However, where would such be.’’ Pitch hummed on a thoughtful note, the sentence sounding more a statement than a question, as he continued. ‘’There is nowhere for you to go in all of this mess. Not now. Not anymore.’’

‘’Then don’t.’’ Jack shrugged, fingers picking at an escapee thread, which was slowly unraveling at the edge of his stained sleeve. ‘’It’s not as if we wanna leave anyway.’’

‘’This will get worse as time passes.’’ Pitch stressed, to which Jack shrugged again.

‘’Not if we kill him.’’

‘’Gods no- stop. I do not have the energy for a complete repeat of previous conversations.’’ Pitch huffed in what did not sound like a complete dismissal. Again, a quiet beat passed, before he let out a strained breath and continued. ‘’Still, as it stands, I suppose I should count myself lucky that none of you took the opportunity to leave on the morning that I had planned for.’’

‘’How so?’’ Jack shot back with a raised brow and beside him, Pitch seemed to regain a bit of strength back in his posture.

‘’Rumors travels fast, Jack, especially horrid ones.’’ Pitch said. ‘’And it would appear that Eliana’s farm burnt down on the very same dawn that I had made arrangements with her.’’

Rapidly, Jack blinked at that. ‘’Was she the round-faced woman that came by a couple of months back? The one with the pearl earrings and silvery-grey feathers in her hair?’’ He nudged, to which Pitch curtly nodded.

‘’That is the one, yes.’’ His holder acknowledged, before his mouth drew into a thin frown. ‘’Pippa and Monty were supposed to travel and reside under her. Had they managed it, had they reached her abode, then I doubt that the terror of the blaze would have been them spared.’’

‘’Oh.’’ Jack said lamely, as he stared at the passing soil beneath his staggering feet, brow pinched, as his foot caught on the edge of a protruding root. Swiftly, Pitch’ arm curled around and helped steady his stride. ‘’So-… wait how would you know about that?’’ He pressed and then elaborated, as Pitch gazed down at him with a single, raised brow. ‘’That her farm burnt down I mean.’’

‘’Nicholas brought forth the news this very afternoon.’’

‘’And he knows for sure that it happened?’’

Curtly, Pitch nodded. ‘’Monty confirmed it as well when I asked.’’ He replied, to which Jack hummed low in thought.

‘’Well. How about the rest of the people that you made deals with then? Are they okay?’’

‘’We will see.’’ Pitch breathed on a huff, which sounded more tired than anything. ‘’It was a busy night for all included and not just for our own household. Truthfully, while some lost more to the flames than others, none seem to have been spared whatever tantrum that Jamie felt the need to throw.’’ He explained on a rightfully bitter tone. ‘’Regardless, all of those around were affected in some shape or form, be it in a tolerable fashion, or, as in our case would and could so easily have been, total ruin.’’

I do not have much time to chat.

Despite the slight warmth, which lingered in the tunnels, Jack shivered under the notion of what that had meant. Still, he thought to himself - just how much havoc had he wrought in one night?

On, the quiet lingered for a near minute - the ivy beside his moving feet twitching gently, where it snaked alongside the path. ‘’Hey uh,’’ Jack started, as he scratched a broken nail against his own, itchy palm ‘’do you mind if I speak freely for a while?’’

Lightly, Pitch snorted, though the tone remained deceivingly gentle. ‘’As if you have ever censored yourself.’’ He huffed lowly. Then, finally, his prideful posture seemed to crack, the last traces of the hostility gone, as he deflated into something much more humane. ‘’But indeed,’’ His holder agreed - the note in his voice familiar, gentle, and greatly, Jack found himself releasing the breath that he had not realized that he had been holding ‘’go ahead.’’

Carefully, Jack bit at his lip, as he tried not to let the relief drown him. ‘’What happens if we survive? Where do we go from there?’’ He pressed. ‘’I mean, he’s a tyrant and all, but what happens to a system when you cut off its head?’’

This time, it was Pitchs turn to look surprised for a beat, a single brow raised, as he gazed down at him again. ‘’I have my fair share of plans for such an outcome.’’

‘’Would you care to share?’’ Jack asked and in return, Pitch let out a soft, low laugh - the gold haven gained a healthy flicker, as his clawed hand extended out and settled onto the small of Jacks back, in what seemed a show of comradery.

‘’Certainly. It does however, involve quite the talk of politics, so perhaps this is the type of chatter you would be best left without?’’

Idly, Jack shrugged. ‘’Humor me.’’

For a beat, Pitch gauged the reaction, before humming low. ‘’I suppose there is no harm in it.’’ He mused, before letting his molten gold settle onto the path ahead of them again. ‘’Well. As it stands in this present day, most of the lands have been left barren in the wake of the rapid fires, which have raged over them. As such, for a start, the first three years of a possible reign, should be left solely to focus on the regrowth of all that has been lost.’’ He explained, as he circled his free hand beside him thrice for emphasis. ‘’The taxes would be lowered enough for the small folk to plenty their stock, and, since there is no head in place to collect them- or rather, the head in charge has no want or need to, seeing as the little earl has been as greedy as he has- it would speed the pace of their growth exponentially. If all goes well, then it would be possible to lend a hand of aid in what heavy labor there is sure to be. As for the…-‘’

Truthfully, Jack had stopped listened to the specifics after a while, but still, he got the main purpose of it all.

Regrow. Reshape. Rebuild.

And, as for the smaller but crucial details of what Pitch did not say, but still left implied in between the lines of plans for wealth and prospering ages-

Keep the lands in check and take the throne once the fear had settled and enough favor had been gained towards his own, radiant person.

‘’Is this the ulterior reason why you kept in contact with just about all of the influential people around the plains?’’ Jack asked. He knew that he had interrupted his holder, but the talk of types of grain and their unique usages seemed a fitting moment to butt in. ‘’Get on their good sides so they’ll trust you once the fear settles enough for a new head to be put in place? Like, oh no, our shitty ruler is dead and everything is chaos, but here’s one that’s ten times better, if not a thousand times so.’’

‘’That is not quite how I would put it, but yes.’’ Pitch agreed with an air of amusement. ‘’I would not be alone in trying to regain the throne however. Many a fool will try to concur the crown.’’

‘’But your head is already a favourite amongst the people.’’

‘’Indeed.’’

‘’And so, if someone came and picked up the crown before you did…’’ Jack said, before he trailed off for a beat. ‘’None would be too sad if you killed them and claimed it for your own?’’

Beside him, the curve of Pitchs smirk seemed genuinely humored, if not a little impressed, and in return, in the back of Jacks mind, the apples cradled in their brazen bowl were sent flying in a great cascade, as the scales tipped in the other direction with a great, hollow thunk.

‘’Well,’’ Pitch laughed on a dark, promising note ‘’we will simply have to see for ourselves, do we not?’’

-

A good ten minutes later, the two arrived at a heavily overgrown door sat in the middle of a tunnel, which, somehow, Jack had not been able to locate on his nightly wanderings. If it was because of its faraway placement from the surface itself, or for the fact that it was as far from the vest wing, as one could possible get, Jack could only guess. In front, Pitch pressed a palm to the yielding door, passed the threshold and strode in – his dark coat already discarded over the back of an oaken, finely carved chair, as Jack, unsure if he was meant to follow or not, stayed behind on the dusty path outside.

Uncertain, Jack shuffled his feet, as he side-eyed the curve of the tunnel ahead. He knew that he had not paid enough attention to find his way back on the first try, but, considering the intimidating drop just a few more meters beside him, it should be fairly simple to roam about in the opposite direction and eventually get the general idea of where he was.

Idly, he wrung his hands, as he pondered on what to do, before finally, a good handful of beats later, Pitch seemed to realize his hesitation.

‘’You may stay the night if you wish.’’ Came the offer and gladly, Jack skittered in after and closed the door behind him.

Chapter Text

In retrospect, Jack mused, as he worried at the frayed edges of the old, dusty papers, which, if his rather exhausted memory was not deceiving him, contained the general information and proceedings of two major sponsorships - it was a rather impressive amount of documents that had been deemed worth taking along for the journey. Five separate stacks, all neatly arranged into their respective domains and scaling up to be roughly the height of his hand, littered out over the grand desk before him and on the floor, resting on top of the fizzy shelter of a folded woolen cloak, eight additional stacks that had yet to be properly sorted through were cozily nested down.

Briefly, Pitch had explained the meaning behind each stack, but hardly, Jack had been able to pay attention.

‘’Does the price for the purchase lie in the hundreds, or the thousands?’’ His holder in question softly interrupted the brief train of stray thought and obediently, Jack looked for the answers in the writing below. After a small beat of searching and scanning the cluttered numbers on the page, he found its dusty remark and with a thoughtful hum, he squinted his eyes, bare heel stabbing into the crude wood of the floorboards, as he tried to recall the short lesson that Monty had given him only a few restless nights prior.

Irked, Jack let out a harsh breath before clucking his tongue. ‘’Was a four digit total in the thousands?’’ He eventually had to ask, to which, softly, Pitch hummed his agreement.

‘’Indeed.’’

‘’Then it’s in the six thousands or so.’’

‘’I would need the specifics, Jack, both for my own sake, as well as for the ones in which we are doing trades with. A single mistake could have dire, future consequences for all parts included. The higher the number, the more urgent the need for perfection will be.’’

A tad stiffly, Jack glared at the floral design at the top of the discussed page, before returning his focus to the healthy amount of nonsensical math, which, amidst a sea of fine, swirling letters and jumbled numbers, stretched out below.

Truly, he could not decipher any of the specifics, and had it not been for Montys patient, repeated explanations, then the finer understanding of the basic aspect of it all would yet have alluded him. Still, the ghoul had humored his, albeit be it rather obvious, lack of interest with a fierce drive that Jack had not dared question, and as a result, Jack now understood that the answer to Pitchs demand showed itself as the number that stood above the two thin lines at the bottom. Delicately, his finger traced the slender curve of the first number of the total, before confirming it aloud. ‘’First number is a six. Total has four digits.’’ Jack said with a small beat of pride in his voice, as he tabbed the page below for emphasis. ‘’Ergo, the total is in the six thousands.’’

‘’And is that total closer to five thousand or seven thousand?’’ Pitch pressed, to which Jack lightly shrugged.

‘’In the middle I think.’’ Jack said, as he tabbed the second digit of the total. ‘’Six is followed by a three.’’

‘’Then it is lower.’’ Pitch gently corrected and in return, on an irked sigh, Jack managed the tight, upper laces of his own shirt - his nail a tad too sharp for comfort, as he scratched at the skin of his lightly bruised collarbone.

‘’Fair enough.’’ He lowly grumbled.

‘’And the other?’’ Pitch asked after a small beat of silence. ‘’Does the total for the purchase of seed lie in the hundreds, or in the thousands?’’ He asked, just as Jack slid the paper aside and focused on the other of the two documents that Pitch had ordered him to locate before the small exercise began. Absently, on the top, left corner of the newly retrieved page, Jack noted the blooming design of swirls and hard lines, which had been made crudely into the shape of a single strand of corn.

Three. Three digits danced above the two, horizontal lines.

‘’In the hundreds.’’ He confirmed.

‘’And what is the total?’’

Softly, Jack huffed under his breath, mouth drawing into a thin, hard line, as he glared at the number. ‘’You know I can’t read that.’’

‘’Try, Jack.’’

‘’Seven hundred.’’

‘’Seven hundred and what?’’

‘’Seven hundred and a weird fuckin swirl that looks like a lame, tiny swan.’’

Unfazed, Pitch raised a brow in challenge. ‘’Two?’’ He pressed and in return, the paper made a dry flick of a sound, as Jack slid it away, before he turned, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the tables’ smooth edge.

‘’How the fuck would I know?’’

A small, poignant beat passed - Pitch lacing his fingers together lightly, elbows resting on his bended knees, before he pressed on. ‘’This is not any different from the numbers that feature in your tedious card games.’’ He argued. ‘’You know how to read those. You can do this too.’’

‘’Two.’’ Jack practically spat out the confirmation, as he scratched at his elbow.

‘’Pardon?’’

‘’It was a two.’’ Jack gruffed. ‘’Seven hundred and two.’’

‘’And was the zero placed in the middle or at the end?’’

Lightly, Jack shrugged. ‘’At the end.’’

‘’Then the total is seven hundred and twenty.’’

Simply, Jack glared at the floor for a beat, before he flicked his fingers to the overgrown ceiling above. ‘’Fuck it,’’ he roughed, as he shoved away from the table and made his way over to the hearth at the far end of the room instead ‘’it’s a lot.’’

‘’You are doing quite fine.’’

‘’Cute.’’ Jack scoffed, as he kneeled down in front of it, fingers swift, as they wrapped around the poker placed at the ready beside the hearth - the light, lazy flames and sparks from the smoldering wood flaring, as he stirred up the fire. With a scowl, he watched as small, fine tendrils of frost bloomed over the pokers bended, iron handle, the metal in his hand creaking, groaning from the strain, as ice laced and ate at its hardened structure.

Behind him, Pitch let out a slow, tired sigh. In truth, it had bordered on a groan.

‘’I am being sincere.’’

For a beat, Jacks hand stopped, before it worked up its motions again, a heavy weight present in his chest, as he stared at the flickering bright in front. It was not as if he did not understand as to why Pitch was attempting to install the most basic of principles in him in regards to economics, but it was not an idea that he overly wished to entertain. If they failed, if they all had to leave and reside under foreign roofs, then it would prove an essential feature to their future trade. Indeed, Jack mused, as he turned over one of the charred logs, before feeding the hearth a fresh other - A servant trained in the art of economics was not one so easily cheated, and, would in generally be held in higher regard as to what poor service he could provide for the time being.

Gently, the pokers bend came to rest against the ash-covered edge of the hearth, his exhale slow, shaken and burning from the reality of it all. ‘’I know.’’ Jack said softly, as he did his best to tab off the worst of the ash and coal without making a mess of the floors. ‘’I just hate feeling stupid. Just-‘’ he admitted, hand circling the poker in the air beside him, before he placed it back in its dented container ‘’this stuff should be easy, right? This should not be as hard as it is.’’

‘’It will come.’’ Pitch pressed, just as Jack managed to fill and handle the heavy pot in under the bend of the hearth where it came to rest above the slight flames. ‘’If you allow it time, if you allow it to grow, it will come.’’

With a hum, Jack got up and made it back to the paper-cluttered table. ‘’I suppose.’’ He agreed, his hands swift, as they located two mugs, which he placed down on said table, before sidestepping to retrieve the necessary herbs for tea. Gingerly, he crushed up the dried leaves and divided them into the waiting mugs in front - his nails rapping over the tables hard wood, as he waited for the water to boil. Audible, his jaw ticked.

‘’Pitch?’’ Jack asked, as a possible answer to the receipts first total grazed his mind. A tad thinly, he continued, when the man in question softly hummed.  ‘’If a five comes after a four, is it then a forty or a thirty?’’

‘’It is forty-five.’’ Pitch gently corrected, to which Jack let out a long, strained sigh of slight annoyance.

‘’Ah, fuck this shit, I’m doomed.’’

‘’Nonsense, Jack, it was close.’’

‘’Nah it wasn’t and you know it.’’ Jack grumbled and then proceeded to watch his holders shoulders jerk in a slight shrug, as he turned his head to glare at him. ‘’You’re just being kind.’’

‘’Perhaps so.’’ Pitch agreed on a smirk, which seemed far more exhausted than it had any right to be. ‘’Or, perhaps I am indeed being sincere in my praise. Perhaps,’’ he said, as he tilted his head, molten gold narrowed, as it bore into Jacks ‘’perhaps I find you far more deserving of it than you allow yourself to realize.’’

The room fell silent, as they simply stared at each other, the gleaming gold narrowing further, Pitchs gaze a dare for him to continue, as Jack made to disagree on the notion. Idly, the tip of a hesitant tongue darted out to wet his lips, as he made to answer, before seemingly, Jack thought better of it.

‘’I… I don’t,’’ Jack started on a lame, low note, his nails rough, as they scratched at the inside of his wrist ‘’I don’t necessarily need your praise, Pitch. I’m not entitled to it anyway, you know that.’’ He settled instead of outright spitting in the man’s face and in front, something shifted in the gold - a tired, displeased edge present, closing in and fighting its way through and at once, its irritated prospect seemed too grand for Jack to bear.

‘’Pray tell,’’ Pitch started on a lethally low note and it was all that Jack could do to not shiver in the face of it ‘’have I ever caused you such severe offense in regards to your worth?’’

‘’Look, it’s not like-‘’ Jack tried before gritting his teeth and spitting out a rather harsh noise from between them. ‘’Or actually no. You know what, fuck it, you have been quite clear on your opinion of my worth.’’ Jack huffed on a voice that was entirely too defensive and then immediately regretted it. No, he thought, as he watched the slight hurt that it had caused flash in the others gold, before the man schooled it back to his impressive impassive - that little outburst had not been completely fair. ‘’Fuck,’’ he tried, as he, a tad jerkily, scratched at his chin ‘’look, I didn’t-… I don’t mean to be-… I don’t want to be as-… Ah.’’

The quiet beat that leaked and passed in the air this time was heavy - the space in between Pitch’ soft intake of breath and eventual sigh, loaded with something that Jack did not quite dare to name.

‘’It has not been my intention.’’ Pitch eventually offered.

Pity, Jacks mind mused regardless of his own reluctance and yet, the word rung crude and foul to his ears. No, he realized - pity was not the flavor that he could practically taste lingering about the soft curve of Pitch’ tired, reconciling smile. Passion and a mildly discontent frustration towards Jacks more stubborn moods perhaps, but pity was not a part of it.

‘’Have I caused you grief, Jack?’’ Pitch asked on a note that sounded as sincere as he knew the man to be. ‘’Truly, have I been the one to cast such doubt on your own person?’’

Promptly, Jack allowed himself to be a coward as he turned away from it - a slight tremble in his hands that he could not quite dispel, as he hurried to make himself busy with the ritual of pouring the water for the tea.

‘’No.’’ Jack eventually braved himself to answer, as he once more gained the strength to speak aloud. ‘’No. No, you haven’t, I didn’t mean to be rude like that, it’s just-’’

‘’Then, what has?’’ Pitch softly interrupted him.

With a tad more force than was strictly necessary, Jack stayed with one knee to the floor in front of the hearth, stirring the leaves with the bend of a spoon, as he willed it to brew faster. ‘’All of it.’’ He said on a stiff shrug, as he breathed in the light tendrils of steam from the mugs below - the scent of it as bitter, as the doubt that itched up the back of his reddened neck remained. ‘’It’s just been a lot, you know. Everything that has happened since we had to go and-… Since all of us had to-…’’ He tried, before trailing off. A beat of silence passed, the metal effortlessly making its rounds in the water, Jack staring stiffly at the mugs edge, as he willed his heart to calm its spontaneous, rapid pace. ‘’By the gods, look, I… I should apologize.’’

Behind him, Pitch softly hummed in his own dismissive manner.

‘’No need.’’ He insisted, to which Jack lightly shrugged.

‘’I’m sorry regardless.’’ Jack insisted. ‘’It was unjust to lash out like that, I just-... Yeah.’’ He gruffed, as he fished up the soaked leaves from the mugs and gathered them onto the small, painted plate resting beside them. ‘’Look, I know this isn’t about me- this whole ordeal we find ourselves in that is, but I don’t know where I belong in it. Where I belong in any of it, really. I dunno what the hell I’m doing, Pitch, I’m trying, but I don’t think it’s doing any good for anyone involved.’’

Behind, another little hum sounded.

‘’Well, I will not pretend to hold the answers to that, but, small as it may be, your presence is not all for naught, Jack. You matter in this. All of you do, and, if it matters to you at all, then I am at least grateful to see you a part of it.’’ Pitch pressed. ‘’Perhaps,’’ the man continued ‘’perhaps I cannot convince you of such, but I am delighted to have you here.’’

At that, Jack blinked rapidly for a few beats, before he rested the iced-over spoon to the leaf-covered plate as well. Again, another beat of quiet leaked out into the stale air between them. Then,

‘’Are you ashamed of your position?’’

‘’No.’’ Jack answered on a small shake of the head, as he tabbed the tip of a meddlesome finger to the ice that he had absently let spread out over the floors hard, dusty wood. ‘’No, but I’m pretty cross with myself in general. About how fucking naïve I’ve been in all of this. I’ve caused myself a lot of trouble, Pitch. Trouble, that I really didn’t have to be in in the first place.’’

‘’And while that is an amendable feature to possess, Jack, you are not the only one in this party who feels greatly humbled by this whole ordeal of a mess.’’ Pitch stressed. ‘’Though, as it stands, as for you, I do recognize that it has been quite the abrupt change of scenery-‘’

‘’Yeah but it really hasn’t though?’’ Jack roughed on a halting note, as he added sugar to his own steaming mug and a slice of dry, wrinkled lemon to the other. ‘’I might’ve been free once, yes, but then again, not really?’’ He stressed. ‘’My family were still peasants. We could move as we pleased, but given time, I would have had to go and find work anyway and the conditions would not exactly have been much better than they are now. Fucking hell, for all I know, this is the best outcome I could’ve ever hoped for.’’ Jack said, the words leaving him in a rush, before his shoulders slumped, palms flat on the floor beside the hot ceramics, as he cracked a small, mirthless smile. ‘’And that’s the thing, isn’t it?’’ He gruffed, as he cracked the mugs free from the cold that he had wrought and placed them far enough away that no further harm would find them. ‘’How many times have you told me to behave? How many times have you told me to change my tone into something that is at least decent?’’ He roughed. ‘’But I can’t. I don’t want to. I’ve never really been good at taking orders and that’s not about to change anytime soon.’’

There was an insistent lump in his throat, which Jack was quick to swallow around, his nails crude, as they bit into the tender meat of his clammy palms. ‘’I won’t apologize.’’ Jack stressed. ‘’I won’t say I’m sorry cause I’m not, but fucking hell Pitch, I’ve been lucky to have you as a holder.’’ He huffed to himself on a stiff little laugh. ‘’Abrupt change of scenery my ass - If it wasn’t for Monty then I would’ve been drowned.’’ He gruffed. ‘’If it wasn’t for Claude, then I probably would have been beat beyond repair when the collectors came by to fuck shit up, and on that note, fuckin hell Pitch, I could’ve been raped or hanged if you’d been a lesser man.’’

With a soft little hiccup, Jack dug the bend of a knuckle into his tightly shut eyes, nose wrinkling, as he fought to get his breathing back under control. ‘’I dunno what the fuck I’m doing Pitch.’’ He practically hissed out on a growly, angered note, before both palms smacked flat to the floor beside him again. Acutely, he was well aware of the radiant gold, which still lingered on him.

‘’Breathe, Jack.’’

‘’I’m trying.’’

Silent, the room remained for a good minute, before Jack snatched the half-forgotten mugs close and got up on shaky legs – his stride far more controlled and stable than he had feared, as he stumbled over and finally held out the tepid tea for the other to take. Gratefully, Pitch accepted the mug, seeking claws skimming the back of the others hand in a show of attempted comfort, before Jack retreated back to the table with his own. Gingerly, he brushed a few of the papers aside, before he hopped onto it, ceramic a firm, burning anchor in his grip, as he locked his ankles together in the air below him.

As another little beat came and went, Jack managed a stale, even breath.

‘’Hey, uh’’ he started on an stiff, uncertain note, the insistent unease still present in his chest, squeezing at his heart, as Jack tabbed a finger to the little spires of ice slowly eating their way up the sides of his mug ‘’Pippa told me what happened to Claudes’ brother.’’ Abruptly, the radiant gold snapped to his, the tone that spoke low, firm, as it urged him to proceed with care.

‘’This is quite the change of topic.’’

‘’Is it?’’ Jack challenged with a strained, winded note, as he raised a brow and in front, Pitch quite possibly glowered. Unabated, Jack continued. ‘’It got me curious is all.’’

‘’In regards to what?’’ Pitch rasped, as a single claw ticked to the mug in his own clutching hands. If the knuckle-white gesture served as a warning, then Jack heeded it none.

‘’In regards to why you did it.’’ He pressed and in return, irked, Pitch sneered, as he uttered a phrase too low for him to catch.

‘’Caleb should have been well in his right to defend his fellow kin from such violent harassment.’’ Pitch gruffed on a tense, dour note. ‘’There should have been no repercussions for his actions. It was unjust.’’

‘’But the state didn’t agree.’’

On the bed in front of him, Pitch breathed in a deep, grounding breath, which, by the sounds of it, burned all the way down. ‘’Indeed, they did not.’’ He agreed.

‘’You could’ve let them be stoned.’’ Jack pressed. ‘’It wasn’t your responsibility.’’

The rough edge of the indignant scoff that comment earned him was sweet music to his frayed nerves, Pitch’ tone angered, clearly provoked, as the man shifted ever so slightly on the bed. ‘’Are you suggesting that I should let the innocent be claimed for crimes that should be nonexistent?’’

Slowly, Jack shook his head. ‘’No.’’ He agreed. ‘’But you could have easily done it anyway.’’

‘’I could.’’ Pitch agreed on a low hum. ‘’But it was not right.’’ He insisted. Behind, the sweeping dark, which seemed a constant around him, jerked, as something, a frown or a wistful sneer, tugged at the corner of his mouth - the small tilt of Pitchs head puzzled, searching, as it seemed towards an attempt at figuring him out.

‘’What?’’ Jack spat right back, as he met and held his holders gold head-on and then proceeded to stay his tongue, until the other could answer on another quiet, little hum.

‘’Why are you still testing me?’’

Idly, Jack raised a brow in his direction, as he lifted his sharp and splintering mug to his lip. ‘’Have I been testing you?’’

‘’Are you attempting to imply that you have not?’’

Softly, albeit be it a tad stiffly, Jack smiled into his bitter block of semi-solid tea, before he took another swig from it. The taste was not quite pleasant as per say, the sugar overpowering, sharp, as Jack threw his head back and drained it all in one go. ‘’I have.’’

In front, Pitch aggressively hummed at him. ‘’And have I passed?’’

On a subdued hum of his own, Jack stared at the few free leftover leaves swirling gently above the solid cold at the bottom of his ruined mug – the small smile playing on his lip widening, as he jerked the mug to get them moving again. ‘’Yep.’’ Jack said simply, as he watched their slow, circular race around the ice.

The quiet that fell did not feel entirely comfortable and once more, he was acutely aware of the bothered gold lingering on him, yet, he could not quite bear to meet it. Idly, Jack itched under it for the better part of half a minute, before he braved himself to look up and meet the others gaze again. As he did, a small shiver ran down his spine from the look Pitch was giving him - or rather, the sliver of visible skin lingering just below his collarbone. Unhurried, seemingly on their own, the golden eyes trailed lower still, narrowing, as they noted the stark colours of the offended bruise, which lingered there, before snapping back to meet with Jacks icy own. Again, a beat of quiet passed, before Jack found his voice again.

‘’You alright?’’ He huffed, the tone a tad more on edge than he had meant for it to be, and in an immediate response, Pitch’ jaw clicked - gaze faraway and yet acutely attentive, as he tilted his head at him again.

‘’Have I caused you this anger?’’ Pitch asked on a tone low and contemplating, as he put his own empty mug away on the small table beside the bed. ‘’Have I caused this spite?’’ He pressed and in return, Jack blinked slow, as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it. Gently, the tables’ edge creaked beneath his grasp, as Jack tightened his hold of it.

Finally, Jack shook his head, before looking to the sweeping dark beneath Pitch’ feet. ‘’No.’’ He said, and in front, Pitch hummed in response, as he placed his hands together - the slide of his palms slow, as his head lowered a fraction. For a beat, he stared at a bruise lingering on the tender inside of Jacks ankle, before his gold once more found the others face.

‘’Then kindly,’’ Pitch said on a soft exhale, the tips of his fingers opening slow, claws bend, as his hands moved apart in a placating manner ‘’can we put this grudge aside?’’

Jack knew what he meant, but still,

‘’Would you be a bit more specific?’’

‘’This anger.’’ Pitch clarified, as he gestured out into the space, which lingered between them. ‘’Can we allow it rest? Can we banish it in favor for something more gentle?’’

Softly, Jack shrugged. ‘’I can’t promise I’ll stop being angry just like that,’’ he said, as he shook his head ‘’but I promise you, it’s not you it’s directed at.’’

Pitch was quiet for an eternal, poignant beat, the silence heavy, his gaze raw, filled with things that Jack thought to be better left unspoken and greatly, he felt the back of his neck tingle for it. Then, ‘’If that is the case, then’’ Pitch started, as he held a clawed, beckoning hand out to him ‘’would you come here?’’

The tips of fingers drummed to the chilled mugs edge thrice, before Jack put it down to rest on the table beside him. Gingerly, as to not disturb any of the papers lingering about, he slid off its surface, hands leaving the rough wood behind, as he shoved from it and made his way over to the waiting other.

This was not new territory for either of them, he mused, as he stood between the space of his holders bended knees – quite far from it and yet, the hand that greeted him, the claws that settled on his hip felt entirely new. Carefully, he slid his wrists into the others waiting palms, as it was him asked.

‘’Does this make you feel uncomfortable?’’ Pitch asked, as he examined the hands in his, the spaces in between cold, yielding fingers, to which Jack softly shook his head. The touch felt burning, yes, the warmth seeping into his skin rather abrupt, but uncomfortable was not a word, which lingered anywhere in his peripheral thought. Softly, as Pitch skimmed the meat of his thumb over the bump of Jacks own, he hummed at whatever he felt. ‘’Does it hurt you?’’

‘’Not really.’’ Jack reassured. ‘’It just feels a bit weird.’’ He mused, as he shrugged a shoulder. ‘’And warm.’’ He added. ‘’Really warm.’’ In front, the gold drew distant, claws mindful of their sharpened edge, as Pitch’ thumbs continued their slow caress up the curve of the back of Jacks hands – the move of his fingers thoughtful, tender, as they rubbed soothingly at the sides of his wrists, before he just held them in his clawed grip. Still, Pitch’ gaze remained lost.

‘’Are you alright?’’ Jack asked again and in front, Pitch’ seemed to be fighting with himself on something - a war raging in his head that he, by the looks of it, was losing quick. Slow, ever slow, Jack, with a sense of accomplishment, watched the golds radiance fall closed, as he turned his wrists and took the clawed hand that Pitch let linger in the air between them in both of his lesser own. Pride, Jack mused to be the prime defender of whatever debate was going on behind his holders closed lids, as he held the blissfully warm limb to the uncovered part of his chest – pride, or perhaps a sense of reason for the dignity of it all.

Finally, the tip of a hesitant finger moved out over the bruise that kissed the skin below Jacks collarbone - Pitchs tired sigh sounding an awful lot like defeat and gingerly, the mans’ head bowed, forehead creased, as it came to rest against Jacks sternum.

‘’Breathe.’’ Jack offered in the face of his holders stubborn reservations. ‘’Just breathe and let it be. Nothing has to happen if this is as much as you want to give.’’ He urged.

‘’It is not for a lack of want, Jack.’’ Pitch rasped on a voice both dark and light and rich with promise, which all at once howled and begged and screamed for closure to whatever result would show from his own quiet, mental debate. Still, Jack thought to himself, as the warm puff of breath from Pitch’ spoken words moved across his skin in a way that made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end - this was the farthest thing from a dismissal as one could get.

‘’Then what?’’ Jack asked, as his head spun anew and the last traces of his anger left him for the time being.

‘’I am not quite in control these days.’’ Pitch admitted on a note that did not sound as though it wanted to be voiced, and in return, Jack settled his own hand in raven hair to dispel its lingering hesitation.

‘’I see that.’’ Jack replied on a soft, secretive smile, before he stilled to let the final arguments to the drawn-out debate settle. And again - again, it was quiet - the quiet in between, which seemed to reign supreme, whenever the words would else get too big for whatever it was that he felt lie unspoken in the stale air between them. As such, knowing better than to rush, Jack let it linger for just a bit longer yet and, as a clawed hand snaked around the small of his back and held him close, he knew that he had done well for it.

‘’I am aware that a lot has changed as the days have passed us by.’’ Pitch started on a low note, as he pressed the other close enough, that Jack felt the outside of his thigh bump to the mans’ inner. ‘’I wish for there to be rush. No pressure. If this is not something that you wish to pursue, then I would understand and accept as much.’’ He stated, as a warm and shielding hand splayed out over the expanse of Jacks ribs. ‘’I have not exactly managed to be proper with you, be it in words or otherwise. The situation is unique, I am aware, but I have wanted for… I wanted for-….’’

Jack raised an amused brow, as Pitch trailed off. Watching him be lost for words was a rarity that few had witnessed, but still, it was enough to cause a fleeting bit of concern to linger right alongside the desperate want, the need for the other to finish that sentence.

Finally, as Jack carded fingers through the thick hairs on the back of Pitch’ neck, the man let out a strained, slow sigh that sounded an awful lot like defeat. ‘’Were you sincere in your want for me to touch you?’’ Pitch settled on a tone that somehow managed to be both frightened, lost and regal at the same time and it was all that Jack could do not to smile in delighted triumph. As he managed heating fingers down over the tension that lingered in Pitch’ neck and set to banish it, he felt the man melt under his touch, before the band around his waist tightened to pull him closer still. Truly, he had no doubt that Pitch would let go if he pulled away, but it was not a want, that he had in mind.

This felt good. It felt so entirely safe.

‘’Yeah.’’

A tad reserved still, the molten radiance of gleaming, hopeful gold peaked up at him. ‘’And are you still?’’ Pitch enquired and softly, Jack cracked a shy little smile for him.

‘’I am.’’

Claws were at his hip, on the expanse of his ribs and as the sweeping dark and heat of eager hands brought him closer, enveloping him in warmth and holding him still, Jack dared to tighten the fingers that grazed across the fine hairs on the back of Pitch’ neck.

Perhaps it was a last beat of pride that made it so. Perhaps it was something entirely different, but the fact that the given consent remained as something only heard by the two of them did not overly bother Jack much.

Then now would be the time for you to push for it

Chapter Text

Slowly, with a tender care that could shatter the will amongst the most hardened of men, Jack guided the clawed hand in his up, kissed each knuckle, the wrist, the inside of the joint, before placing it against his cool cheek. As he met no resistance, and as Pitch nudged him forwards to do as much, Jack settled himself into the mans lap - the attention that he laid to his holders lips soft and innocent, devoid of heat, before he had to crane his neck with a sigh, as Pitch moved his own to it.

Softly, slow, ever slow, fingers caressed down over each bump of Jacks ribs, before they came to linger against his hip, the grip steadying, holding him secure, as Pitch pressed his face to the cool crook of the throat that was him offered. As Pitch spoke, it was on a firm, unhurried note,

‘’Tell me of your best encounter.’’

On a hum, Jack bit at the inside of his cheek. ‘’I'm not sure that stuff is quite what you wanna hear about.’’ He said and in return, soothingly, clawed fingers rubbed their own lazy little circles into the point of the others hip.

‘’Try me.’’ Pitch implored, to which Jack gave a little shrug in return.

‘’He tied my hands.’’ Jack managed on a voice barely above a murmur. Still, the circling motion at his side did not falter. ‘’Held me down and had his way. I felt it for days after.’’

‘’And it was good?’’ Pitch pressed, the gold sincere, no judgement present in their gleam, as he moved his head enough to lock a radiant eye on him.

‘’It was perfect.’’

It was quiet for a beat, before Pitch tilted his head a fraction. ‘’And are you hoping that I will treat you to an equal subjection?’’ He asked, which caused Jack another little shrug, before the latter averted his gaze to the hand still pressed to his hip.

‘’If you're okay with it?’’ Jack opted on a small little hum and in return, Pitch grinned at that, teeth and all, the gold shining with what Jack deemed to be anticipation and really, as genuine as the whole thing felt, the others gaze still remained far too intimate for this kind of discussion.

‘’Quite so.’’

Lower yet, Jack hummed, annoyed at the way his hands shook with a light tremor, as he touched them to the brilliant warmth of Pitchs neck. ‘’Still, I would prefer it if we didn’t just outright-...’’ He started with a puffy little breath of air catching in his throat. Promptly, his uncertainty were ghosted, kicked out, dispelled with a great vigor, as Jack closed his eyes against it and leaned his forehead against the others. ‘’Would you be slow with me?’’ He asked. ‘’I don't wanna be in control, but I don’t want to feel… Look, used is the wrong word, but it’s the closest that I can dish up with right now.’’

In response, a clawed hand caressed along the fine curve of Jacks back, the swirling dark pulsing, fanning out and pressing up behind him in a fashion that was entirely too dramatic. ‘’Can I trust that you will tell if it is too much?’’ Pitch asked, as five pinpoints that required Jacks acute attention lightly dug into the latters spine.

On a nod, he swallowed, cheeks heating, as the touch at his side moved down and traced out over his thigh. ‘’Yeah.’’ Jack promised beneath the press of a kiss filled with nothing but patience, features gaining a healthier flush still, as the sharp edges of claws found their way under his shirt, traced up over his chest, arrived, and playfully teased at the tender skin around a nipple. With a sigh, Jack melted under the careful touch, a burst of warmth shooting through and comforting him further, after hands had moved to dispel him of his shirt. A beat later, the garment found its place amongst the dust of the floor - the subtle dry hiss of a scraping noise registering, as it was discarded, and briefly, Jacks mind strayed to that of the ice, which he had noted clinging to the edges of his sleeves and in the strands of his disheveled hair.

‘’Pitch?’’ Jack managed at the urgent note of that thought, as he offered up his throat. Steadily, a hand kept to his thigh, the other partially straying onto the side of his craned neck to keep him steady - the murmured tone in response sweet, a much wanted blessing to his ears, as the man uttered a slightly distracted,

‘’Yes?’’

A shiver tingled its way down Jacks spine at the vibration that the small word sent through his jugular, breathy voice winded, as the rough pads of curious fingers graced up over the curve of his reddened jaw. ‘’You burn,’’ Jack said ‘’you burn, but do I chill you in return?’’

For a beat, Pitch paused at that. ‘’In a sense, I suppose that you do.’’ He mused on a thoughtful note, as his thumb traveled its way out over the plush of a yielding, parted, bottom lip. ‘’You are indeed cold to my touch, more so in the last of the passing days, but here,’’ he settled between the soft kisses laid to the side of Jacks jaw and throat, head bowing, as he worked his way downwards ‘’here in my arms, the chill seem gracefully fading.’’

On a gasp, Jacks hips jerked in the mans lap, as Pitchs mouth found his peaked nipple – the formers lips parting further on an elated sigh, as a clever tongue worked the bud. ‘’But is it bad?’’ Jack pressed, fingers twitching in raven hair, as Pitch flicked the tip over it. ‘’The chill I mean.’’ He cemented and then held the others slightly bemused gaze, as the brilliant glare of searching gold moved to peak a sly smirk up at him. A beat later, the firm hand on his thigh squeezed lightly in reassurance.

‘’No.’’

The touch moved, Jack pressing his thighs shut around the mans hips, mattress digging into his back, as Pitch turned and laid him down across its cracked frame. The mouth remained at his throat, the warmth of it a burning point, scorching, sending fire racing through his veins, as Pitch kissed at the offended colours of bruised skin resting at his collarbone. On a whine, a desperate need and plea for more, Jack arched his back, as Pitch nipped the threat of teeth along its bend and gently bit down, and in return, the smaller, warming hands that Jack kept in the others hair twitched, fisted, as he urged the attention at bay for a beat to just breathe.

Good, he mused as his eyes fell shut and a rattling, gasping breath managed its way into his lungs - The warmth was wanted. It was perfect, in all but the sense, of it being entirely too much and all at once.

It was wanted. Wanted, and yet…

A lie, the small voice in the back of his mind greedily purred its meddlesome taunts. This was all too fucking good to last and soon, Pitch would realize as much as well and kindly regain whatever senses he had surely lost by sleeping with what was practical filth, it insisted, and promptly, Jack told its unjust jabs and judgmental verdicts to fuck right off.

It was wanted. It was wanted and it had been him offered and so damn well, he would see it through, until fate, or whatever divine intervention had managed their priorities in check and decided otherwise.

But, until then,

A warmth, unlike any that Jack had ever known enveloped his throat, as the touch of the clawed hand, which he snatched close and placed against its arch, pressed him further into the bed. Greatly, he swallowed the small fit of nerves that threatened to shine through, cool fingers urging the ones on his neck tighter, as he shivered under that heavy, promising gaze of gold that seemed a tad too concerned for his own comfort.

I want this though, Jack rasped back at the little doubt that tabbed its pointed arguments against the reasons of his own calm, anxious logic, fuck if it’s indecent at best.

Softly, Pitch hummed, as he seemed to understand as much. ‘’I need you to say exactly how far you will let me go.’’

‘’I will.’’

‘’Preferably before I go too far, Jack.’’

A tad shakenly, Jack nodded, eyes once more fluttering shut for the briefest of beats, before he breathed in deep, held it, and, this time far more firm than the first of its kind, nodded again on the exhale. ‘’Yeah. Yeah, just-’’ he tried, as the tip of a busy tongue darted out to wet at his lips. ‘’Fuck, just go slow on me, aight? It’s been a while and I just-… It’s just. Much. Everything. All of it really, but I want this,’’ he stressed, as the side of a clawed thumb caressed its way across the joint of his rapid pulse ‘’I want this. I want you.’’ Jack implored, to which he got a small, conflicted smile in return. A beat of quiet with nothing but the others calm, patient touch passed then – a contemplating hum joining in its silent debate, before Pitch huffed out a thin noise of acceptance that could have been a laugh, could have been a purr and in the end, was probably a bit of both.

‘’Place your hands above your head.’’ Pitch ordered and gladly, Jack did as much - a pressure that was not quite there but refused to budge, as he strained against it, settling around his wrists and holding them in place. ‘’Now, again,’’ Pitch roughed on a voice that had dropped its note to something dark and insistent, as above, the gold seemed to glow in the slight dimness of the room - the flames from the hearth making them dance and flicker in a way that seemed entirely too inhuman ‘’You will tell me if it is too much. I insist, Jack.’’

Gracefully, after Jack had nodded his consent, the clawed hand on his throat relented and traversed its way downwards in a sway of sharp, careful pinpoints of heat and pure, crushing strength - the already carved features of the man that he had come to trust so deeply contrasted heavily, as the thin smirk, which played upon his lip, split into something wicked. In response, Jack squirmed, as the tips of claws skimmed down over the expanse of his flushed and heaving chest - legs shaking, thighs tensed and slightly twitchy, as that warm hand made its way further, settled, and gently pressed to part them. Again, Pitchs voice implored him for mutual reassurance. ‘’Do you want this?’’

Mouth dry, Jacks tongue darted out to wet his lips once more, a breathy ‘’yes’’ falling from his mouth, as he managed a nod for the what felt like the fifth, but could so easily have been more, time. It felt intimidating to be this exposed beneath a man that he, by all sense and purposes, knew very little about – the notion humbling, as the adoring gold above left him feeling bare and desired in more ways than the mere aspect of any physical sense. And still, ever conflicted, ever calculating, that radiant flash of molten gold narrowed, the small hum that Pitch let out more a throaty purr, contemplating, as though sensing for deceit.

Eternity reigned - the gold decided, only after whatever jury of the silent debate, which still insisted on jabbering on well past their point of relevance, finally got their shit together and cast their vote for the scrutinizing beat to pass. In return, Jack caught the appreciation in the others slight grin, at whatever honesty Pitch seemed to deduct from the willing body below. ‘’Stay as still as you can then.’’

The dark danced over the expanse of his naked foot, the tendrils curling like the whisper of a touch up his shin, before Jack felt it dip and bend along the curve of his spine. Too warm, he mused, the scorching warmth close, drawing his nerves taut, as Pitch lowering his hands to work on the laces of Jacks strained pants. Promptly, the healthy flush spread further, as the last piece of clothing left him.

Still, the slight pressure of the sweeping dark tenderly curled itself along, the soothing circles rubbed into Jacks writhing hip calming, as the sway of shadow pooled and curled around the bend of his knee.

Soon, unhurried in its advance, the dark remained a stark contrast against the skin of his pale, inner thighs. Ink on marble, Jack, albeit be it with a hint of delirious delight, might have described it as, if he had had the mind for the grander aspects of the more poetic sense, but alas, despite his own forlorn eloquence, the whole notion of its impossible presence remained as too much, and yet, not enough.

Not nearly enough.

‘’Pitch-’’ Jack pleaded, as the tips of claws found and traced his panting mouth again, the man’s eyes hooded, as Jacks own fell closed on an elated sigh. ‘’Pitch please, please.’’ He managed, as the pad of a single seeking finger rested heavily against his lower lip.

‘’More?’’ Pitch implored and in return, for a short beat, Jack could only nod.

‘’As much as you’ll give me.’’ Jack agreed, as the curling dark playfully caressed against the erect, most sensitive part of him. ‘’Fuck-’’

‘’Language, Jack.’’

‘’Oh, fuck right off-’’

A tad amused, Pitch raised a brow. ‘’Do you truly wish for me to do so?’’ He stressed and while the situation at hand seemed settled, Jack knew that he promptly would if it was him asked.

‘’No.’’ Jack voiced on a winded note, as the finger at his mouth explored out over his lip and softly started to press at its swollen plush. ‘’Preferably, I want you to fuck me.’’ He said, as a thumb slipped in and pressed down on his working tongue. Above, Pitch only smirked at the comment.

‘’Delightfully polite as ever.’’ The man all but chuckled, as the back of a claw explored out over the cave of Jacks mouth, before skimming along the back of neat, pearly teeth. ‘’Truly, you astonish me at every turn.’’

On a choked whine in response, legs shaking, Jack arched his back, as the curling dark between his thighs started to press in. The sensation was strange for sure, leaving him full and yet so achingly empty. Opening gaze blurry, Jack was acutely aware of the prick of claws, as they left his face in favor of tenderly raking down the expanse of his craned, exposed throat and further down over his belly. ‘’Hah-‘’ he breathed out between little puffs of increasingly warming air ‘’happy to help.’’

Then, Pitch sat back on his haunches, the unrelenting grip that he kept on Jacks knees firm, keeping shaking thighs open, as more yet of that aching nothingness bullied into him.

‘’Is it too much?’’ Pitch asked, as Jack tossed his head about in a fit of restless impatience. Softly, with a care that seemed to tender for the given activity, a clawed hand left its rest to search for a flushed cheek. ‘’Jack?’’

‘’Fine.’’ Jack wheezed out. ‘’Just a bit- ah, tight?’’

‘’Do you need me to slow this down for a-‘’

‘’No. No, gods no, just-‘’ Jack managed on a stiff and shaky exhale. Absently, he licked at the lip that Pitch had touched. ‘’A tad less hard if you can?’’ He implored and gradually, he felt the press lessen to a dull ache instead of the full force of the stretch, which had threatened to tear him open. ‘’Yeah that’s-‘’ Jack managed on a slight nod, which was as twitchy, as it was firm ‘’better.’’ He settled. ‘’it’s- ah, it’s good.’’ He said, as a careful claw caressed at the skin beneath his eye. ‘’It’s good, Pitch.’’

‘’Truly?’’

With a nod, Jack turned his head ever so slightly to lay a kiss to the inside of the wrist still grasping his cheek. ‘’Yeah.’’ He said, before turning his head fully to press into the others palm. ‘’Truly, it’s fine. You can-‘’ Jack huffed out on a raspy puff of warm air ‘’move,’’ he implored ‘’you can start to-‘’

Then, Jack cried out, head falling back, toes curling, as the pressure inside of him pulsed and twisted itself - the name that spilled from his lips a broken plea for more, for closeness, for everything that the other would gladly give. With absent thought of the act, Jack strained against the binds holding his wrists in place, the slow moan that escaped him broken and needy, as the nothing inside of him repeated the motion thrice and curled itself further in.

‘’Pitch,’’ Jack whined, the hints of an amused notion lingering in the radiance of Pitchs gold, as the mans gaze stayed locked with cold, startled blue ‘’Gods, Pitch-’’ he pleaded, until his mind was settled by the care of the kiss, which claimed his open mouth.

‘’Too much?’’

‘’Enough.’’ Jack huffed a tad breathlessly, just as the hand pressed to his cheek left him for the favor of squeezing the flushed skin of his outer thigh, before it too disappeared. With a feeling of loss, Jack more sensed than watched, as Pitch leaned up proper and stretched out his own shoulders with a content little hum, which, in truth, sounded suspiciously like the attempt towards the smothering of a delighted, little laugh.

‘’I shall take that as a compliment.’’

Through a haze, Jack watched, as clawed fingers expertly moved up and undid the laces of Pitchs shirt, the pale skin that bordered on grey on free display, as the rich fabrics slid up and off of his form. Numerous scars littered the man’s chest and arms, the ragged lines and finer hurts snaking up and over his collarbones and idly, Jack traced a particularly nasty one, which licked up over his ribs. Above, Pitch noticed his stare and returned it with a sly, calculating grin.

‘’You're beautiful.’’ Jack blurted out, before he could stop himself, to which the other huffed a surprised, albeit be it thoroughly pleased laugh.

‘’Flattered, truly.’’ Pitch hummed on a near purr, the tone warm and loaded, as he slid off the bed to, a beat later, reclaim his spot with a small vial in hand - its contends glistened, as he generously coated his palm.

Jacks head fell back, eyes closing for a beat, as he let out a shaky exhale of the breath, which he had not realized that he had been holding. Too much, he thought, as the curl of shadow drew back out and an insistent hand nudged his thighs further apart - too much and not nearly enough indeed. Thickly, he swallowed, as Pitch took himself in hand, the man’s golden stare poignant, the intimidating feeling like a dare, as Jack eyed that flushed length with a slight beat of nervous energy - tongue once more flicking over swollen lips, before his gaze snapped back up to lock with Pitchs attentive own.

Be it a product of whatever love had clouded his mind, overthrown or dethroned, it did not matter. In the instant that seemed eternal between them, Jack wanted to kneel at his feet, wanted, to feel his lips stretched to their fullest around the base of the proud cock standing at firm attention for him, as Pitch laid claim to him in more ways than one.

In truth, Jack wanted everything that Pitch would give him. Physical, spiritual, the good, the bad, the stubborn bitterness that the man held so fondly in high regard-

All of it.

With a slight chuckle rich with promise, Pitch seemed to deduct as much. ‘’Another time, Jack.’’ The man laughed, as he loomed over him. ‘’There is no haste in this. For now, let this coupling be enough.’’ He urged, the touch on Jacks knee gentle, as the latter squirmed in increasingly frustrated need. ‘’But truly. Do you want this?’’ Pitch asked again and it was all that Jack could do not to groan.

‘’Godsdammit Pitch, yes.’’ Jack huffed between slightly grit teeth.

Above, Pitch’ smile remained full of adoration, the mattress creaking softly, as the man settled his hands into it on either side of Jacks head. Slowly, gently, Pitch laid another kiss to plush, hungry lips - a happy little noise rattling in his throat, as Jack pressed back with equal want. Then, he drew back, a clawed hand finding its way behind and holding the back of the latter’s head, the other settled against the point of his hip, before Pitch likewise rested his forehead against his with a small, contented sigh.

A moment of stillness passed in which Pitch merely held him as such, and in a direct response, Jack felt his heart purr sweetly at the raw, patient tenderness of it all. Happy, with clear joy claiming his features, Jack turned his head to press a kiss to Pitchs high cheek.

‘’I said slow- be slow with me-‘’ Jack huffed with a smile, as the man, hungry and achingly thorough, found his mouth again and kissed him back ‘’I didn’t say gentle. I-’’ thighs tensing, whatever words he had meant to share morphed into a sharp, breathy moan, as Pitch headed the plea and slid in.

‘’Careful now.’’ Pitch rasped on a note that only promised good things to come. ‘’That may be more than you bargained for.’’ He urged and in return, Jack huffed out a strained, breathy giggle.

‘’Great,’’ Jack managed, as the overwhelming weight of warmth inside of him nevertheless kept still long enough for him to adjust ‘’counting on it really.’’ He half laughed. Above his head, his immobile hands twitched, thighs pressing in tightly around Pitchs hips, as the man started up a soft, careful rhythm – the soft press of raven hair tickling his cheek, warm gusts of breath making him shiver, as a face nuzzled into the crook of Jacks craned neck. As the scrape of careful teeth nipped at its flushed skin, he let out a whine.

‘’Am I hurting you?’’

It sounded so sincere. The concern far more genuine than Jacks heart could quite deal with and promptly, starkly, he felt a lingering part of him break from it. Something like this could never last, he thought – not really. Their paths may have been steered along by some vengeful, divine intervention for this act of mutual tenderness to exist, but their worlds, their heritage, their separate roles in the grand scheme of the play whose rules had been thrust upon them were too different in the end - too far apart, for it to have any real merit in the long-term aspect of it all. But, Jack mused, as the grip on his hip tightened and Pitch snapped his own in a way, which made the formers toes curl in want - for now, this was his.

‘’No.’’ Jack settled instead of voicing that dire train of thought aloud. ‘’No, you aren’t. I need this.’’ Jack pleaded on a breathy note ‘’I need you- Please, Pitch, I need this. Harder. I need you harder.’’

Pitch all but purred - the clawed hand, which was at the back of his head moving around, claws skimming cheek, as the palm cradled the curve of Jacks jaw and held him in place. Still, the rhythm of the mans’ circling hips kept steady, the kiss that claimed the others mouth more teeth and desperation, than any soft, careful touch had any right to call itself.

With a small, immediate gasp, Jacks chest jerked in need for air, as they once more parted and gingerly, he licked a stripe up the shell of Pitchs ear, teeth nipping at it tenderly right after, voice breathy and warm, as his whispered plea sent a shiver through the man. ‘’Hurt me.’’

‘’Jack.’’ Pitch warned on a winded note, as the grinning rascal in question hid his cheek in raven hair.

‘’I want you to.’’

Pitch slid out and in return, Jack had only a moment to mourn the loss, before the man settled clawed hands under his shoulder and knee, flipped and brought Jacks face into the mattress. Once more, a hand found its way into his hair, sharp pinpoints gracing Jacks scalp, fingers cruel, before it fisted hard in his white locks to keep him down. ‘’Please,’’ Jack managed between tightly grit teeth, as the man settled over the back of his calves - the pressure in his shoulder nearing painful, as Pitch’ free hand found his left wrist and wrestled it behind his back. ‘’Oh please, yes.’’ Jack cried, as he moved his head to better breathe – the other hand joining the first and in an immediate response, he felt a strand of dark encircle both to keep them tightly together.

Above, Pitch let out a winded laugh in response.

‘’Tell me,’’ Pitch implored, as a clawed thumb caressed along the back of Jacks trapped, right wrist ‘’in this moment, tell me exactly what is it that you want. A lover’s tenderness? A brute’s coldness? Both? I can take you, Jack.’’ Pitch promised, palm warm and heavy, as it moved down to settle on Jacks hip, the other holding onto the side of his reddened neck, as the man demanded him move and instead drew him flush up against his own scarred front ‘’I can take you as roughly as you need.’’ Pitch urged, as he laid a subtle kiss to the side of Jacks neck ‘’I can break you, but not without you explicitly saying so.’’

‘’Both,’’ Jack agreed on a strained note, as five sharp points skimmed along the curve of his throat ‘’I want both.’’ He demanded, clawed fingers digging into his jaw, forcing his head back, neck protesting the strain, as Pitch bullied his way back in and kept at it. Softly, Pitch hummed a tune by his ear, the arm that rested across Jacks chest tightened its hold, as the man circled his hips and snapped up into him with a returned, feverish hunger.

The restrictive gesture seemed possessive, notes greedy in nature and yet, Jack felt so utterly safe. Greatly, his eyes struggled to remain open, as a rising pressure started to build behind his navel. ‘’Hah,’’ Jack whined on a pained note at the sharp pangs of tensing claws digging into his hip, the moment before Pitch’ other slid from his hair and rested heavily between his shoulder blades instead. ‘’This. You’ve wanted this as well. Haven’t you?’’

In response, Pitch all but growled a throaty note of a huff as behind, the palm pressed to skin shoved Jack down and barely, the latter had managed to catch himself, before both of Pitch’ hands settled tightly on his hips and drew him back into his lap with enough force to bruise.

A broken moan slid from Jacks slack lips, the hands that held him tightening still, before Jack heard Pitch let out a subtle hiss of an entirely too dry, defeated laugh, which made his racing heart tighten in desperate want.

‘’Yes.’’

Warmth. An incredible heat wrecked through and turned his spine to red-hot jelly, knees skidding on the bedding, as Jack was rocked back and forth at an unrelenting pace.

‘’I have wished for that and so much more. So much more, Jack.’’

Thighs tensing, the slap of skin on flushed, willing skin obscene, the white-knuckled hands that fisted in the bedding lost their grip the moment before Pitch pressed back down against his back and covered his trembling form fully.

‘’I have wanted for you to come to me freely,’’ Pitchs strained voice purred its deep, raspy notes in his ear ‘’I have wanted for you to make the move that you never did in a sober state and now,’’ the man gruffed, as his hands moved to settle beside Jacks wildly grapping own.

With each harsh thrust, the weeping tip of Jacks cock was sent to gently collide with the rough linen. ‘’And- hah, now?’’ Jack pressed. A beat passed in stillness, the tremble to Jacks groans and sighs increasing, as the seconds ticked by and yet, Pitch made no move to answer. Fumbling, Jack moved his right hand to cover the man’s clawed own, before Pitch beat him to it and pinned both of his instead.

‘’Fuck,’’ on a moan, the side of Jacks chest met with linen, as a particularly hard thrust made him loose his balance - the snapping of Pitchs hips unrelenting, as Jack pressed his face to the mattress and did his best to gulp down air and meet them. Eyes shut, thighs weak and with his remaining arm trembling in it endeavor to keep his slight weight up, Jacks tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth, as he willed his teeth not to grit. Gods, the small voice in the back of Jacks head chimed in, as the tightness in his abdomen increased – Celeste on a-

On a whine, which morphed into a shaky moan of a gasp, Jacks mouth fell open, the linen rough against his swollen lips, as the pressure in his stomach gathered and exploded outwards in a sea of blinding white.

Winded, he was left panting into the bedding, each beat of his frantic heart hammering along with the hard thrusts still claiming him through, the pulsations of the aftershocks leaving him starving for air, as Pitch fucked him mercilessly. And that, the meddling thought continued, as Jacks struggling arm gave up and collapsed under him, that was just it,

Pitch was not even nearing his peak, was he?

Dazed and overwhelmed by the sensations of stark-white sparks racing along his spine, making his scalp tingle and pooling in the tight space of his belly, Jack was only half-aware, as the pressure inside him halted and slid out - the clawed hands that remained on him rough but yet gentle, as they lifted his weakened upper body up against a scarred chest again. Tightly, Pitch held him close, the man’s breaths ragged, throaty and warm, as they ghosted out over the side of Jacks flushed neck.

Good. Everything felt sticky and warm and good.

‘’Why'd you stop?’’ Jack managed on a pant of a breath, to which Pitch’ face pressed into his neck, the arm that snaked around his throat tightening, choking him slightly, as Jack slowly came down. The warmth that the man provided remained as a point of focus, a secure anchor amidst the trembling mess of his own, weak limbs. Still, he was well aware of the thick girth still standing proud and aching against the flush of his ass. ‘’Pitch?’’

‘’You wanted me to.’’ Pitchs equally low, thin tone replied on a strained, raspy growl.

Jacks gaze held a dizzying blur, as he forced his eyes open despite the heavy weight that his weary bones had become - his brow twitchy in its weak attempt to furrow. ‘’I didn't say that.’’

In return, Pitchs deep breath sounded like an attempt to ground himself. ‘’Not in words, no.’’ The man agreed, as he pressed a deceivingly soft kiss to the slight bruising still left on Jacks neck. ‘’But your fears did.’’

‘’I can still-‘’ Jack tried, before his words of protests died out on his tongue, as that dark nothingness caught his wrist and kept it from reaching back.

‘’Leave it.’’ Pitch ordered on a stiff, dry note. ‘’It is fine, Jack.’’

Though still conflicted, the tired edge in Jacks own sigh told him what he needed to know - he really had nothing more to give. ‘’I'm sorry.’’ He roughed, as his head lulled back against the sharp edge of a collarbone, to which the hand that belonged to the arm now wrapped around his chest instead lightly squeezed his shoulder.

‘’Do not worry for it.’’ Pitch, tone already clearer, reassured. And really, Jack was a tad impressed at the pace of how fast the other had managed to school his urges back under control.

A beat passed, another taking its place in the comforting quiet, before the arm around Jack moved to his middle and bade him to lie down across the bed.

‘’I'm kinda filthy.’’

‘’Does it bother you?’’ Pitch asked, as the arm that had snatched Jack close started to relent.

‘’No, but-‘’ wordlessly, Pitch shushed him by pressing him back against his chest, the kiss that he laid to the space behind Jacks ear gentle, voice breathy and firm, as he hushed his worries,

‘’Then sleep.’’

‘’Aight, but-‘’ Jack started, before a soft yawn interrupted him. ‘’Pitch?’’ He asked, as he felt himself start to slip. Idly, he continued when he got a low hum in return. ‘’What did you wanna say?’’ He asked. ‘’You wanted me to come to you, but... what? What exactly?’’

In return, the hold on him tightened, the man’s whole form tensing ever so slightly, as his face pressed into Jacks neck.

For a beat, all was silent.

‘’Would you be honest with me?’’

Lightly, Jack squeezed his arm. ‘’Always.’’ He promised and in response, a soft breath of air from a conflicted but determined sigh ghosted over the side of his neck. Then,

‘’Jack.’’

Truly, it did not sound like a question, but regardless, Jack answered it as one. ‘’Yeah?’’

‘’Have I forced myself on you?’’

The blur still held, as Jack blinked into the half-dark of the room. Still, his soft smile was as sleepy, as it was content. ‘’No.’’

‘’But, if I have in any shape or form-‘’

To interrupt him, Jack brought the arm holding him tight closer around - the inside of his ankle skimming the side of Pitchs shin, as Jack moved a leg backwards to tangle into his. ‘’You didn’t.’’ He settled. ‘’You haven’t, and you aren’t.’’

‘’If-‘’

Loudly, a powerful yawn wrecked through Jacks chest. ‘’Stop talking Pitch.’’

‘’Jack, this is serious.’’

‘’And I’m telling you that you haven’t.’’ Jack stressed, as he brought a clawed hand up and kissed the rough of a knuckle. ‘’That should be enough, aight?’’ He pressed. Ever so slightly, he felt the body pressed to his relax, the breath that stayed within Pitch’ chest releasing slow, before it all but fizzled out of him in defeat. On another little hum, a stray lock of raven hair tickled the curve of Jacks ear, as the man settled himself down more comfortably.

‘’Truly?’’ Pitch pressed.

‘’Truly, dear.’’

While sweet in its careful nature, Jack could practically taste the man’s relief in the kiss, which laid itself to what Pitch could reach of his mouth. The corner of it, mostly.

Still, Pitch tried for decency one last time. ‘’You are not obligated to stay the night.’’

‘’And I fucking wouldn’t do so if I didn’t want to.’’

‘’Jack-‘’

‘’Sleep, Pitch.’’ Jack roughed, as he nuzzled into the clawed fingers that found his cheek. ‘’I wanna be here, so unless you want me to leave, sleep.’’ He said and then proceeded to give a soft, tired laugh in return, as he felt the hold on him tighten to the point of it bordering on uncomfortable. Grinning, Jack hid a victorious smirk into the man’s palm. ‘’I can stay, then?’’ He asked on a tone, which muffled nature did nothing to hide the obvious, gleeful triumph in it. And, as the press of shadow closed in and held him as he was, he knew his answer.

A few moments of the comfortable quiet drifted into minutes, before Jack truly felt himself start to slip – the lull of sleep urging him to fall, to rest for the night and let the worries be the approaching day that was to come. Here, it whispered, here it was safe. Here, none of the world’s cruelty would touch him. Not for now. Not for the night through.

As such, halfway towards a dreaming state, it felt as though the soft gesture came from deep underwater, from a place far away, removed from his own physical body, as a single finger on the hand keeping him close tenderly caressed down the curve of his jaw.

‘’My dear heart.’’

In truth, Jack was too far gone to comment on it, as the man offered up the three little words, nor did he quite know what to make of the melancholic tone trapped in Pitch’ exhausted, yet quiet appreciation.

‘’Thank you.’’

Chapter Text

The first thing that registered as Jack gently glided into a wakened state was the incredible warmth surrounding him, the second, the arm around his middle keeping him close and secure. With a content little groan, he stretched out carefully, Jack keeping his movements slow, as behind, the rhythm of Pitchs breathing remained deep and steady in his own continued sleep. As such, Jack stayed as he was, listening closely, until it evened into something lighter and alert.

As he turned slow, he found Pitchs gold sleepy and relaxed, the smile that lingered below just as so. Lazily, the smile was returned with a grin.

Good. This was entirely too domestic in its unhurried advance.

Before he could think better of it, Jack moved a hand to the sparse space between them, fingers hovering just above pale skin, as he waited for permission. After a long-felt beat, it was him granted with a nod.

With a slow and thoughtful care, Jack felt the ragged edges spanning out beneath his touch, the tip of his finger curious, as it dipped and rose along with the raised curves. Most of them looked old, and, he could not help but wonder for the story of each and every one of them. Steel, Jack thought their scent reminded him of – their edges metallic in nature. Sharp and unyielding as the blade that had gifted them.

Idly, he wondered if they would taste the deal.

Slow, ever slow, he leaned his head in close and kissed the mess of scars, Jack tracing them with his tongue, before he stopped for a beat, as he followed one out, which graced close to a nipple. With a question close in his gaze, Jack flicked his eyes up to Pitch, searching his gold for any objection.

Still, he found no resistance in their narrowed shimmer.

A hand settled into his hair, as Jack slicked his tongue out over the hardened knob, claws twisting their way in further, as careful teeth scraped over the sensitive flesh between them. With a widening smirk, Jack got bolder yet, as he heard Pitch sigh in what was unmistakably satisfaction and soon, he was not surprised to find the man hard and ready, as he worked his way downwards.

Again, a searching flash of blue peeked up to silently ask for permission, and, as was with the last, no denials were him offered in return. Quite the opposite really, Pitch seemed acute with interest, the gold curious, as to how he would proceed and idly, Jack felt his own brow furrow, as Pitch raised his in a way that seemed far too casual - the mans expression unreadable, bordering on blank, but with a start, Jack understood what it was.

He will not tell me to do it, he realized - he would not dare order such.

In return, the sly smile that Jack flashed back at the other was a slow, careful thing, and, while keeping his gaze locked with radiant gold, he lowered his head to kiss the crown.

As it elicited exactly the grit out curse that he had hoped for, Jack, with an ever-lifting twitch to his smirk, felt a beat of pride, as the member in his hand twitched it response. Still, eagerness be damned, the position was a tad strenuous and so, a bit of shuffling ensued on Jacks behalf - thighs spreading wide and belly pressed to the linen of the bed to compensate for the awkward ankle that he found himself in, before he felt confident enough to go ahead as he desired.

This was his. This was all his.

While curling his tongue to press to hardened flesh, Jack moved down fully, lips parted enough to let the bottom touch lightly along flushed skin, as he licked a wet trail up the underside of Pitchs erect cock.

Gorgeous, Jack thought to himself, as he watched Pitchs jaw tighten, golden eyes flashing with desperation, as the hand in Jacks hair moved to grace claws over his scalp ever so gently, before they twisted in deep and fisted to keep a hold of his head – absolutely tremendous.

Still, the hold did nothing to hinder him from moving and so, while taking it down gradually between little heaps of heated, gasping breaths, Jack worked the length in his mouth with his tongue and tightening circle of lips. As such, Jack felt a sense of accomplishment, as he felt his nose bump into hard muscle, the sly gleam in his eyes sparkling from the achievement, as he hollowed out his cheeks, drew back up and off of the man with a wet pop.

‘’Jack,’’

Sloppily, he licked at his lips, Jack sucking them between his teeth to wet them further, before drawing a deep and grounding breath through his nose, as he lowered his head to resume his work. Beneath, the thigh that he touched a palm to tensed, the muscles of Pitchs stomach clenching as well, as the mans head fell back into the pillows on another little sigh.

‘’Jack-‘’

Knowing that he was close, Jack watched the muscles in Pitchs throat work in an attempt to wring out his name, the man writhing on the bed as, a tad shaky, the thigh beneath the formers hand jerked to a gentle bend, before Pitch moved his clawed own down for the other to take.

Let go, Jack pressed through, as a raspy hiss of a foreign curse rattled out from the mans craned and reddened throat. Beside his head, the leg that had bent pressed the side of its knee into the mattress hard.

It’s okay. Let go. Let go of everything

‘’Say,’’ the attempt at a proper sentence growled its way into the air around Jack, the dark pulsing its heavy, insistent beat, as the palm upon his head slipped to the flexed curve of his neck and pressed down until his eyes started to water from the lack of oxygen.

I got you, dearest

‘’Say my name.’’

Fingers interlaced, Jack kept at it till the remaining hand in his hair tightened beyond painful – the knuckles on the other colouring a stark white, as the skin stretched out thin from its equally vicious grip.

Pitch

Greedily, as the man bucked off the bed and came with a hoarse cry, Jack swallowed him down, tongue working him still, as Pitch shook through the aftershocks.

A beat passed, another taking the first, before the restrictive hand minded its place and all but dragged Jack off to allow him a gasping, painful burst of much needed air into burning, neglected lungs.

Are you alright?

Absently, as Jack coughed the last of the discomfort away, clawed fingers carded through his hair in their own worried sense of a soothing dance, before the hand all but fell from it. Soon, Jack watched, as Pitch raked the very same palm down his own face - the limb stopping at the mans mouth to press against its slackened façade.

‘’Perfectly, yeah.’’

While his tone sounded as weak as his own body felt, in return, Jacks grin remained entirely too pleased, as the hand twitched out and reached for him - Jacks breathy laughter elated and happy, as the man dragged him up and brought him into a crushing embrace.

With a fit of giggles plaguing his belly, Jack, clear and content as could be, snuggled into him. Softly, the clawed hand still clutching his moved up, Pitchs knuckles grazing Jacks jaw, as the man extended a set of fingers out to caress the side of his cheek.

‘’Brat.’’ Pitch huffed with no real scorn in his tone at the flicker of mischief still present in Jacks sparkling blue.

‘’You love it.’’

‘’I am starting to.’’ Pitch admitted, as he turned his head to lay a kiss to Jacks temple.

Like that, close in body and with hearts beating to the tune of something gentle and unspoken thick in the air, they stayed, for what felt like a small eternity.

Truthfully, Jack could not be happier for it.

Alas, the sigh that Pitch eventually let out sounded as annoyed as Jack felt by the mans following demand. ‘’Pleasant as this is however,’’ Pitch voiced aloud, as he squeezed the hand in his and gently tabbed his forehead to the others ‘’we do have to rise.’’

-

In record time, Jack had managed to ease into his stained shirt, his pants soon to follow, before he eased his arms out by his sides and up towards the ivy-covered ceiling in a deep-felt stretch.

‘’Hey Pitchy?’’

At the far side of the room, hunched over a small but sturdy looking chest, the man rattled out a slightly distracted, ‘’Yes?’’

Idly, Jack tilted his head, as he narrowed his eyes up at the twisting green that, for all he knew, seemed to be reaching down towards the very dust of the floor itself. ‘’Did the foliage cover this far in yesterday?’’

By the chest, a heavy-looking jar full of oats found its place on the lid of yet another, though much smaller chest that Pitch had taken out from its brethren’s middle. ‘’Pardon?’’

‘’The ivy.’’ Jack specified. ‘’It’s nearly covering the entire ceiling.’’

On a hum, Pitch flashed his gold to the invasive cover of green and dark browns as well. Softly, he shrugged a shoulder. ‘’I suppose not.’’

‘’Then how…?’’

Again, Pitch shrugged, this time a whole lot less invested. ‘’I suppose Bunny is in a mood.’’ He settled on a dismissive tune, as he carried the jar, and what appeared to be sugar, to the table with the impressive amounts of sorted through paperwork. With the tip of his tongue pressed to the inside of his teeth, Jack turned his gaze towards the back that had been him offered.

‘’He always make green stuff when he’s in a mood?’’ Jack pressed.

Again, Pitch hummed. ‘’I guess you could say that.’’ He offered with an air of finality, as he reached for the last clean shirt that had lain upon a heavily overgrown dresser.

Definitely, Jack thought, as he watched the man rather violently start to tug the garment on - it had not been so yesterday.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Jack took over the task of dividing oats into two bowls, before reaching for the fetcher to add the near boiling water. Gingerly, he stirred the mix while Pitch searched for his coat beneath the sea of sweet-scenting blue and light purple flowers that had claimed the chair, which it had been resting on.

‘’Hey Pitch?’’

‘’What.’’

‘’Have I upset you?’’

Behind Jack, clawed hands briefly paused in their work of harshly ripping the coloured crowns, deep-green leaves and gently swaying stems apart. Softly, the whisper of a sigh fizzled out between lightly clenched teeth, before Pitch turned a flash of gold towards him.

‘’Never, dear.’’

‘’Then what.’’

‘’What?’’

‘’What is wrong?’’

Irked, Pitch arched a brow, before he looked away, clawed fingers flexing, as he dismissed the fistful of petals crushed by his hand off to the side. ‘’It is nothing, Jack.’’

For a brief beat, Jack simply stared, before he huffed under his breath. ‘’That doesn’t look like a whole lot of nothing to me.’’ He pressed, as he turned to look for cutlery in some of the drawers that had yet to be trapped by the twining ivy. Alas, he found nothing but a fork and a blunt butter knife. Gingerly, he rested the fork on Pitchs bowl while he himself took the knife.

Finally, as Pitch managed to locate his coat and tug it free, the man answered him back. ‘’Do not worry for it.’’

‘’I do.’’

A dozen flowers were brushed loose by the turn of a clawed hand, the colours all tumbling to the dust of the floor and gathering in a mess of roots and crowns and torn petals. ‘’Would your heart settle if I told you that this state of mine has not been caused by your own, sweet, meddling self?’’

Idly, it was Jacks turn to shrug. ‘’Not really?’’

In return, the side of Pitch’ lip cracked up into a humorless smirk. ‘’Ah,’’ he started on a note that sounded as irked as Jack was starting to feel ‘’but alas, I suppose it would not entirely be true regardless.’’

‘’Wait-’’

A flash of black and subtle strings of gold and embroidered silver moved, as Pitch tugged his coat on and strode to join Jack by the table - the proximity close enough that Jack felt the slight heat of another body pressed against his side, clawed fingers brushing lesser, as Pitch reached for one of the bowls. Beside said hand, the blunt of the knife resting on the edge of the one that Jack had claimed, graced the inside of the bowl, as a pair of knuckles carelessly bumped it to fall.

‘’Pitch godsdammit, what the fuck is the-‘’

‘’You can ask.’’

Above, the cold radiance of gold were already gazing back with the same sense of stern tenacity that Jack felt rise within him. Fright, Jack realized, as he glared back with all his might. That was a great deal of uncertainty trapped in one simply glance. Still,

‘’What do you mean?’’

In front, Pitch tilted his head a fraction, eyes narrowed, as the poignant gold turned stony. ‘’You know what I mean.’’ Pitch insisted. ‘’Pippa has asked the same. As have Claude.’’

‘’And so what,’’ Jack pressed, just as Pitch grabbed his bowl and retreated to the sway of blue and light purple and sat down on the small patch of the chairs seat ‘’I’m magically supposed to be able to read their thoughts and be on the same page as to whatever the fuck this tantrum is about?’’

‘’Absolutely, yes.’’

Taken aback, Jack rapidly blinked, as he stared at Pitch innocently blowing on his forkful of oats in order to cool them down.

‘’Pitch.’’

‘’Yes, dear?’’

‘’You’re being an ass.’’

In front, Pitch merely cracked a wistful smirk, the tic of his eye annoyed, as he hummed out low. ‘’Am I now?’’

‘’Completely.’’

Again, Pitch offered up a disengaged shrug. ‘’So be it, then.’’

A beat of silence passed, Jack glaring at the mess of the ill fitted bouquet on the floor, as a possible answer to the soured mood brushed to the forefront of his mind. Taking a deep breath, he rested a palm to the table beside him, legs shuffling sideways, before he settled himself up onto its wooden surface.

‘’Well shit.’’ Jack grumbled lowly to himself. On another little hum, the man ate in a calm quiet that felt entirely too domestic for the obvious nerves passing in the air between them. ‘’I wanna join in the battle.’’

Now slightly beside, with his right leg drowned in the sway of flowers, Pitch’ soft smile remained as tinged with old bitterness as it was with expectancy. ‘’And you shall.’’ The man agreed, as he put his still full bowl down to rest on his thigh. ‘’Both Toothiana and Bunnymund has allowed for it. Nicholas as well.’’ He added, the last name offered, as though on an afterthought.

Tenderly, Jack bit at his lip. ‘’And you?’’ He pressed. Still, the gold relayed no further immediate emotion.

‘’I do not agree with their decision.’’

‘’You think I'll be in the way?’’

‘’I believe that you do not understand what you are up against. But, I suppose that they are in their right to assume that you could become quite the... affective asset.’’ Pitch hummed with a slight hint of discomfort, as he turned his head to the side and leaned back against the living foliage of the chair.

Back by the table, while kicking his legs in slight unrest, Jack likewise tilted his head. ‘’So, what’s the problem?’’

A beat of silence passed, Pitch’ gold distant, before finally, it found Jacks’ blue. ‘’As it is, truth be told, I may be entirely too selfish to accept this aspect of the reality that we find ourselves in.’’

‘’What,’’ Jack huffed with slight offense ‘’the fact that I’m valuable?’’

Beside him, Pitch rolled his eyes before briefly closing them, the mans brow pinched, as he drew a forceful breath through his nose. ‘’Please do not go over this again, Jack.’’ He sighed. ‘’It is not worth we are discussing, such of yours is settled in gold, as I hope that you would kindly come to realize.’’

‘’Then what?’’

‘’Your core.’’

‘’And what of it?’’

The fear that struck him, as Pitch met his glare head-on was familiar, as was the annoyance as the man scoffed a light, unfamiliar curse under his breath. ‘’Must we fight at every turn of conversation?’’

‘’As long as you’re being insufferable, yes.’’

Idly, Jack felt pinned to the spot despite the soft, dragged out sigh that the man let out. ‘’Then this day might draw longer than any of us would rather have to deal with.’’

A beat passed, another crawling along to bite and scratch at the last bits of Jacks depleted patience. Irked, he drew a rattling breath to voice as much. ‘’You know-‘’

‘’I apologize.’’

Again, Jack was left to rapidly blink. ‘’You what now?’’

In front, Pitch’ clawed hand found his neglected bowl and set to devour the last of its contents. ‘’Apologies, Jack,’’ the man clarified between his barely chewable bites – claws ticking to the useless forks metal, as he rested it against the bowls edge and lifted the whole thing to his mouth instead ‘’I am offering you one.’’

This time, it was Jacks turn to look away, as Pitch’ gold bore into his over the rim of the bowl.

‘’You don’t-…’’ Jack started, before trailing off. ‘’Look, I’m not-‘’ he tried, as his own knuckles brushed to the untouched meal beside him ‘’I’m not looking for you to say sorry when you’re not.’’

Softly, Pitch hummed. ‘’And how can you determine that I am not?’’

‘’Well why should you be?’’

Again, Pitch hummed, though this time lower. ‘’Because you have, thus far since waking up, attempted to ease the strain that I felt. The strain that I still feel.’’ Pitch settled, before chugging down the last of his oats. ‘’And now,’’ the man pressed, as he discarded the bowl off to a flowery fate amongst the sweeping blue and light purple that promptly swallowed it up ‘’my words have upset you in return.’’

At this, a slight quiet fell, the unspoken beats in between deeply uncomfortable and greatly, Jack squirmed under it. Idly, he scratched at his arm, before snatching his own breakfast close. ‘’My core.’’ Jack murmured into the unpleasant mix of oats and bits of flaking ice in an attempt to redirect the subject onto familiar ground.

‘’Yes?’’

‘’What of it.’’ Jack asked, as he scooped a healthy clump onto the blunt of his knife. ‘’What’s hard to accept about it?’’ As he bit into it, it crunched – the shards sharp and cool against his tongue. Beside him, Pitch softly cleared his throat.

‘’I am not faulting you, Jack.’’

‘’Just answer the question.’’

Subtly, a shifting of fabric sounded, as Pitch crossed a leg over the other and rested a clawed hand to his knee. ‘’Your core runs deep.’’

‘’Which I’m aware.’’

‘’-And as such, it would be a while before the little earl managed to drain you.’’ Pitch continued, as though not in the slightest in the moods for entertaining Jacks interrupting comments.

Again, Jack rapidly blinked, before digging the knife into his hardening oats. ‘’Drain.’’ He parroted and while feeling as though he understood a part of what that meant, still lacked the full picture.

In front, as though sensing the reluctance uttered in that simple word, Pitchs gaze hardened. ‘’I need you to understand something very important about the people that wish to bring you along, Jack.’’ Pitch started and about, the flowers briefly fluttered to the beat of his sweeping shadow. ‘’Before you agree to be dragged into this, they do not intend for you to participate in the actual fight itself.’’

This time, as Jack attempted to stab his knife into his breakfast, it gave a solid clang in return. Annoyed, he put the block of frozen oats down by his thigh. ‘’Then what?’’

‘’See it as a sacrifice,’’ Pitch said, just as Jack shuffled the leg that said thigh was attached to beneath himself ‘’an offering towards their own charms if you will. The higher our numbers, the more power we bring, the more Jamie has to focus on all at once.’’

‘’So,’’ Jack shrugged for a long beat, before his shoulders fell ‘’I'm a good ol' distraction.’’

After a short beat of his own, Pitch sighed at the careless note in the others response. ‘’Indeed.’’ He nevertheless agreed. ‘’Nothing more, nothing less. They intend for you to bring all of your spite, all of your fierce relentless power until you eventually crack under the weight of it all.’’

Again, Jack shrugged, before lightly crossing his arms over his chest. ‘’I’m in.’’ He smirked and in front, Pitch’ head lowered, the gold narrowed, in an attempt to get his point across.

‘’It will hurt, Jack. More than you could possibly realize.’’ Pitch pressed. ‘’Think on it. Think on it well, but once you have, let me know of your decision.’’

Beneath his palm, the wood creaked gently, the edge in Jacks smile as soft, as it was humorless. ‘’You already know my answer.’’

Again, the quiet fell, the short of the stare that Pitch held breaking in resolve, as the man was the first to look away. Irked, his claws worked to nudge at the flower, which had plastered its leaves against the curve of his leg. ‘’Can I talk you out of this?’’

By the table, Jacks smile went lopsided, as he tilted his head in slight triumph. ‘’Not a chance.’’

A beat passed, another rather harshly ripping away the first, before a third came and brought a sense of reluctant defeat with it. On a disgruntled hum, Pitch’ small nod seemed as displeased as it was accepting. ‘’If it must be so, then,’’ the man sighed in a manner that sounded all shades of tired, as he got up and dusted himself free of the last of the clinging petals ‘’shall we?’’

For a moment, Jack merely stared at the clawed hand that had extended towards him expectantly, Pitchs other folded neatly into a loose fist behind his back. Beside Jack, the iced bowl left a ring of wet wood behind, as he nudged it away from himself – the mans palm burning, as it slid into his. With yet another little noise of conflicted air leaving the man, Pitch turned Jack slightly to let their fronts meet, before tilting his forehead down to meet with the others - shared lips tasted of oats, as Pitch bowed his head further and pressed tender care to them.

‘’You know,’’ Jack started, and, as he felt Pitch move, he looked up at the man ‘’I'm pretty tired of talking about him.’’

‘’Jamie?’’

‘’Who else.’’

At that, Jack got a stale laugh in return. ‘’As am I, Jack.’’ Pitch solemnly agreed. ‘’As I am, but so it must be for a little while yet.’’ He said, to which Jack gently frowned.

‘’Sure.’’ Jack drawled, as he bit at the inside of his cheek. ‘’And on that note,’’ he started, as his eyes fell to the heavy embroidery of Pitchs coat, ‘’given what I’ve been told, this might be pretty reckless to talk about and all, but-’’ Gingerly, he moved the clawed hand in his up, kissed each knuckle, before holding it to his chest. A tad shakily, the deep breath that he drew rattled all the way down.

‘’Jack?’’ Pitch asked with obvious concern. ‘’Is something the ma-‘’

‘’I want you to take a shard of my core.’’ Jack swiftly blurted out, before he could lose his nerve. Softly, he cleared his throat when Pitch went deadly still. ‘’I want you to eat it the same way that Jamie does.’’

‘’Gods-‘’

‘’In the same way that North has done as well.’’

Promptly, the shock gave way to stark concern and then clear, wretched anger. Swiftly, Pitch ripped his hand free to grab Jacks face in both of his clawed own. ‘’Nicholas has done what to you?’’ Pitch spat with clear disgust, as the sudden pull in Jacks neck made him crane it to alleviate some of the most abrupt pressure.

‘’Wait, no, gods no, North hasn't done anything to me,-‘’

‘’Then what did he-‘’

‘’Pitch stop, not mine, he hasn't taken anything from me-‘’

‘’Then what-‘’

‘’-but he stole a shard from Jamie which is what allows him to use his charm around the earl.’’

At this, Pitch stopped short, the mans brow pinched, head moving slightly back in clear surprise and confusion. Rapidly, the flash of heated gold blinked, before something seemed to dawn on him. ‘’Oh that wretched rat.’’ Pitch growled dourly and in return, Jack fisted his hands in the mans shirt to keep him present.

‘’Pitch, breathe.’’

‘’Liar.’’ Pitch gruffed, teeth bared in a vicious sneer, as his narrowed gold shot towards the door. ‘’Treasonous liar.’’

Tightly, Jack peeled off and clung to his clawed hand, less the man storm off to throttle what was supposed to be a comrade. ‘’Pitch. Listen to me,’’ he insisted ‘’listen, aight?’’ Jack pressed right back at the angry gold that seemed hell-bent in their need for retribution. ‘’Monty was the one that told me of this. Monty. If I’m understanding this whole thing correct then that’s gotta mean something, yeah?’’

In front, Pitch drew a tense breath, which, by the sounds of it, burned all the way down. ‘’I do not approve of this. Not in the slightest Jack, this is absurd.’’

In an attempt towards reconciliation, Jack settled the hand not fiercely occupied keeping Pitch’ in his, to the curve of the mans high cheek. ‘’Hey,’’ Jack insisted, a small smile spreading shyly, as the radiant gold finally focused on him with a less murderous edge. ‘’There’s a reason for everything, right?’’ He pressed. ‘’It’s all about faith and all that.’’

‘’Which does in no way justify-‘’

‘’I’m not talking justice by any means here Pitchy. I’m talking Monty. I trust him. You trust him. Right?’’

In front, the rattling breath that the man drew was slower this time, the molten gold closed in an attempt to ground himself. ‘’This is a lot to ask, Jack.’’

In return, Jack simply shrugged. ‘’I know.’’ He agreed. ‘’But do it anyway.’’

Again, the quiet stretched for a long, poignant beat. ‘’I will be confronting him on this.’’ Pitch settled, to which Jack softly bit at the inside of his cheek.

‘’Then,’’ Jack started on a thoughtful note, eyes searching the woven threads of Pitch’ shirt, as he attempted towards a quick answer ‘’take it in private?’’ He offered. ‘’Do what you gotta do but try to keep it between you two alone?’’

On a hum in response, the clawed hand that had rested to Jacks jaw caressed its way onto the back of his neck instead, clawed fingers careful, as they wound into the fine white of his hair. ‘’We shall see.’’

‘’Just-‘’ Jack started, before the gentle pressure of a squeeze on his neck cut him short.

‘’Enough, Jack.’’ Pitch insisted on a purr of a tired drawl, the fight seemingly leaving him all in a heap, as his gold once more drifted to the door beside. ‘’Enough. Let it lie.’’

On a nod, Jack let himself be led towards it. ‘’Would you think on it as well though?’’

‘’Which?’’

‘’The shard.’’ Jack clarified. ‘’Taking a shard of-‘’ Now beside him, walking closely together, as they made their way out into the thick green of the thriving tunnel, Pitch sternly shook his head.

‘’No, Jack.’’

‘’I really wouldn’t mind-‘’

‘’I have your answer to my inquiry and you have mine.’’ Pitch settled with a firm air of finality. ‘’It will not come to pass.’’

-

With a lethal shine in his golden eye and a raised hand digging into impossible sizes of leaves, Pitch held the carpet of green aside for Jack to pass - the latter doing so on a taken aback gasp, as the soles of his feet touched to rich flowers and bright, invasive fungi. Indeed, the entire garden that he had been led into had been rendered unrecognizable by the rich bloom and sway of the plentiful flowers, which had invaded the space within. Barely, Jack could see the edge of the curving stream that he, more by instinct than any proper memory, knew ran through just ahead and slightly to their left.

Still, stopped in his awe as he had, as a clawed hand settled to the middle of his back and urged him to rouse from his stupor, Jack released out an impressed breath and let himself be shown to the holders table further into the garden itself.

Promptly, as the two grew closer to it, a pair of narrowed eyes shot towards the newcomers.

‘’You’re late.’’ Bunnymund sourly gruffed in a meager form of barely attempted polite greeting and in a direct response, the soft chatter taking place around the table died down.

‘’Apologies.’’ Pitch rasped right back on a voice that was anything but sincere.

‘’So,’’ Toothiana chimed in in a singsong manner to interrupt the two, as she waved out a bejeweled, delicate hand by her side and bade them both to take a seat ‘’shall we begin the final preparations?’’

Chapter Text

With a sense of unease, Jack worried at the curious little pendant before him, which so casually wanted to disguise itself as an innocent, harmless thing. Crudely, the blunt of his nail twisted it about in a fit of restless, nervous energy. Poison, Bunnymund had said, when he had asked for an explanation as to its gifted reason – a poisonous cocktail strong enough to kill him in a minute flat. The colourful splash of pure malice was woven into a chain made in the form of the most absurd friendship bracelet that he had been given to date, the design simple, fragile, and yet made in a form, which made it easy to bite into and consume. Painless, Bunnymund had promised to his obvious hesitation to reach across the table and accept it from the doctors waiting, outstretched hand. Or, Bunnymund had shrugged, as Pitch had reached across instead and snatched the two that had been them prepared - almost so.

As much as had been possible with the winter rations and the doctors own weakened charms at least.

Loudly, impossibly irked by the whole aspect of its lame, surrendering nature, Jack frowned down at it, before his eyes found the uninterested, dull expression of Bunnymunds’ that was doing his very best to ignore the others narrowed, gauging gaze. ‘’If we fail,’’ echoed through his head in Toothianas flat tone, which had done its hardest, not to seem bothered as well by her own, received pendant now resting heavily against the rich pearls of her colourful dress ‘’use it then and only then’’.

Startled, Jack felt his eyelid twitch, as the back of a claw graced his finger on the hand still clutched into a fist under the table. Idly, he tugged a leg up under himself, teeth grit in defiance, as a warm palm covered his own and squeezed tight in reassurance.

‘’So,’’ North, presently in front, a single hand occupied, as it worried at his beard, thoughtfully chimed in on the speculations on how best to proceed ‘’the doors no option?’’ He asked. Beside the man, Toothiana whistled a dismissive tune, as she slowly shook her head.

‘’I understand how it would indeed seem a possibility, but he would quite literally have removed them by then.’’ Toothiana insisted in response to the others request for a split and surrounded attack. ‘’The same will appear true for the windows as well. Any opening that could seem a liability will disappear as soon as he realizes what is happening.’’

‘’So in short, either we enter as one or not at all.’’ Bunnymund rasped in agreement to which, softly, Toothiana nodded.

‘’Correct.’’

‘’Still,’’ North argued ‘’only fields surrounding his abode. A single unit would be snuffed before it get close.’’ He argued, to which, a tad downtrodden, Bunnymund huffed.

‘’Touché.’’ The doctor lowly rasped with a hint of frustrated nerves, as one of his hands set to absentmindedly rake along the tables’ smooth edge. ‘’But what then,’’ he gruffed, as his palm slid down from it and rapped once to the bend of his knee ‘’we ain’t able to split up, but we can’t go as one either, even though we gotta?’’ He urged, a single brow raising, as his head likewise tilted. In a contemplating manner, Pitch hummed to that.

‘’Not unless we make use of a distraction.’’ Pitch argued and promptly, the irked gleam in Bunnymunds eye turned sour - the doctors thick braid slipping from his shoulder, as he shot the other a dry look over the rim of his glasses.

‘’And what,’’ Bunnymund scoffed, as he drummed a nail to the tables hard surface in front of him, before flicking said tip of the finger in the others general direction ‘’you offering to volunteer as bait, or you got one that you can just magically pull outta your ass?’’

‘’Fact remains,’’ Pitch curtly snapped ‘’that we cannot wait for him to simply up and leave for an errand. He is quite aware of the very real danger lurking about his person in these daring days. If,’’ he said, as his own narrowed gold subjected Bunnymund to an equally lethal glare ‘’if we can manage to cause enough trouble at his gates, then perhaps. Perhaps we can manage to slip in through one of his lesser.’’

Appreciatively, Jack allowed the other access, as the tense press of clawed fingers sought and slid into the vacant spaces between his willing own.

‘’Even so,’’ Toothiana, very deliberately, chimed in, before the loaded air between the two males could thicken and ignite any further ‘’does any of us actually know the true layout of his fortress?’’

At that, all fell silent for one perfect, contemplating beat. Then, North gruffed something in that strange language of his, before looking to Sanderson, that had had yet to weigh in on the conversation as a whole. ‘’You have seen his house, no?’’ North asked, to which Sanderson responded in what was partly a nod, and yet, partly, at least if one judged from his clear bodily hesitation, a dismissal. Confused, North asked for the other to clarify what he meant by that.

At first, the little man simply shrugged in what one could almost consider an apologetic manner, before, above his head, a shaky little seed appeared - a series of intertwined flowers and bending leaves growing forth, the golden stems of the sunflowers swaying, rocked from within, as though by some unforeseen force. ‘’Growing?’’ North asked, to which Sanderson curtly nodded once before pointing upwards and thus directing the attention back to the transforming scene above. There, the blooming crowns of the flowers moved, the petals shifting, as they briefly adopted the image of a bundle of dandelions instead.

‘’So what,’’ Jack chimed in, as the petals of the dandelions expanded out and collected themselves into that of a single, great, grand lily ‘’it changes?’’ Briefly, his gaze shifted from the bright, golden sand dancing above the little man’s head and back up at Pitch, who in return tilted his head a fraction, as he too, seemed to think the prospect over.

‘’Morphing between physical structures would seem the better term.’’ The man mused and, in a direct response to that, on a thoroughly exhausted hum, Toothiana softly exhaled, as she waved a bejeweled hand out by the side of her head.

‘’Morphing?’’ She echoed with traces of something ludicrous trapped in her tone, to which Sanderson solemnly nodded once. ‘’And through that, am I to understand that he can change the very foundation of his home and not just its outer walls?’’ She asked in a manner that made it clear that she did not truly want the answer to be a positive.

Alas, again, Sanderson nodded.

‘’That is exactly how that definition is to be understood, yes.’’ Pitch verbally cemented in place of his mute comrade, before he, ever so slightly, narrowed his eyes at her. ‘’But how come it stands that you do not know of this fact?’’ He asked, a single claw restlessly ticking to the tables edge, as beside Toothiana, Bunnymund immediately seemed to grow impossibly more tense by the suspicious edge in the speakers tone. ‘’Should your relentless little spies not have told you of such an important aspect among their tedious chatter?’’ Pitch continued. ‘’Or, should another of your paid informants not have relayed as much?’’

‘’Careful now.’’ The good doctor spat out on a dour rasp, as around, the delicate crowns of the twining flowers framing his chair all seemed to shake and sway by an unseen breeze.

As Jack had expected, Pitch cared for it none.

‘’And why exactly should I adopt such a mind?’’ Pitch challenged, as the claw still pressed to the tables wood in front rapped against it once, before coming up to crudely point in Bunnymunds direct direction. ‘’Alas, for as far as I can tell, this is information that should have been readily available for one invested in the arts of intelligence gathering and quite confidently not something to be left to the unknown for as long as it apparently has.’’ He drawled.

On a scoff, Bunnymund crossed his arms over his chest, the colours of trembling flowers parting gently, as the good doctor leaned back and treated Pitch to a scorching glare. ‘’And what exactly,’’ he started, as the already tense air around the table and especially between the two hateful holders seemed to snap and crackle with something sharp and poignant ‘’is it that you are implying with that?’’

‘’That she lies.’’

A stunned beat passed in which Jack felt his eyes widen right alongside Norths, another tic taking its place in the increasing animosity, as whatever meager tread of patience that Bunnymund had had left seemed to break and shatter. Crudely, the doctor smacked a palm to the table, mugs and painted plates rattling in the wake of his righteous anger, as behind, the back of the chair that he had previously been occupying fell into the grass with a subtle sound.

Fists clenched, Bunnymund drew a harsh breath in through his nose, his eyes blazing wild and fierce in retaliation, as he drew himself up to his full height. ‘’Now you fucking listen here you son of a-‘’

Unfazed, Toothiana merely placed a hand to Bunnymunds wrist, her gaze remaining stony and hard, as she effortlessly held the doctor in place. ‘’They, my spies, cannot get within close proximity of the little earls house.’’ She chimed out on a deceivingly gentle and slow tone, as she treated the mirthless grin that Pitch sported to a blistering, yet surprisingly calm glare of her own. ‘’And,’’ she continued on a voice that made it clear, that she would expect them all to remaining seated less there be dire, immediate consequences ‘’as stands it for my informants as well.’’

Another little beat passed, the hand that she kept to Bunnymunds clutching closer still, as it seemed the doctor would ignore her denial for a complete standstill, of whatever retribution, that he wished to dish out.

‘’But alas,’’ Toothiana continued, the grip of the other tightening further to the point of it seeming painful, just as Bunnymund managed a deep rattling breath and beside the man, Norths hand very quietly left the sabers handle that it had been clutching in a fit of conflicted nerves ‘’let it lie.’’ She implored. ‘’Let it lie. I did not know of this troubling prospect. I did not know, but I know of it now and that.’’ Toothiana insisted, as she offered up a smile that whispered of the want for reconciliation, yet, it did not quite manage to reach her eye. ‘’That is what counts in the grand scheme of things.’’

Without much of an agreeing tone to his drawl, Pitch seemed to have to give it his all in order to suppress an eye roll - the responding relief around the table palpable, as the man seemed to swallow down whatever gruff remark, he had meant to spit out. ‘’If you insist.’’ He hissed out, the tone scathing, gritting in its nature, as he leaned back into the thickening green of his chair. Nevertheless, if only for the sake of his forgotten diplomacy, Pitch still managed a curt nod, the corners of his grin turning up into the tired tilt of a mocking sneer, as finally, Toothiana managed to get Bunnymund seated into the chair that Sanderson, unseen, had quietly corrected for him.

‘’I do.’’ Toothiana, a tad stiffly, agreed, as her grip on Bunnymunds wrist slipped away and instead came to rest on the good doctors’ shoulder.

‘’Great.’’ Jack chirped up, as the hand on his seemed to mindlessly twitch and squeeze on its own. ‘’So, all in all, we can’t really do much more on the whole preparation thing. Annoying and all, I know, but whatever, it is what it is.’’ He said, as the fingers of his free hand restlessly tabbed at the smooth edges of the little pendant still lying in front of him. ‘’So, when are we going?’’ He asked. Beside, though still mostly in front of him, Bunnymund, who now kept a stabbing glare directed at anything that was not in the direct direction of Pitch, snatched close his neglected mug of stale tea and lifted it to the light sneer of his lip.

‘’The time ain't right yet.’’

Abruptly, Jacks fingers stopped, his brow arched, before it pinched in acute bafflement. ‘’When... when exactly is it then?’’ He pressed and beside him, once more, a flash of bright golden light caught his eye. This time, above Sanderson’s head, an hourglass, which was promptly followed by a symbol that Jack did not understand, showed itself.

Simply, Bunnymund shrugged, as he too threw the dancing sand a slightly distracted glare. ‘’It’s right when it’s right.’’ He roughed in a halfhearted response, as he scratched at his arm in a vigorous manner.

Considering what had just transpired, Jack thought the clear edge fair, and yet-

Are they fucking serious? He pressed through regardless and in response, gently, the hand above Jacks squeezed once in reassurance.

Sadly, yes

Beside Bunnymund, the hand that Toothiana kept by her head moved in to shield the listless tilt of the light frown that still plagued her features. ‘’Once the spring comes and thaws the ground, then and only then do we stand a chance in this whole affair. Quite frankly, we face too grave a liability for as long as the plains around the fortress is covered in the remnants of winter.’’

‘’Well fuck,’’ Jack scoffed, as his hand still on the table finally clenched painfully around the small of the pendant, his stare stupefied, as it locked to the sway of a delicate cluster of flowers, which had started to peek over the very top edge of Bunnymunds finely carved chair ‘’we got that much time to wait around though?’’ He pressed. ‘’We got that much time to waste? He fucking knows where we are, doesn’t he?’’

‘’Oh, he does.’’ Toothiana agreed, as she once more had to press a hand to the twitching muscles of Bunnymunds back in an attempt to keep him dormant. ‘’But the remedy for that is not to blindly charge into certain death.’’ She urged.

Around the table, though none voiced it aloud, the sentiment seemed heavily mirrored.

‘’Do not misunderstand, Jack,’’ Toothiana tried on a tune, which both smelled and sounded far too much of stalling condescension. ‘’What must be done, will indeed be done, but not while the chance of our success is as poor as it is.’’

‘’But-‘’ Jack started to argued, before once more, the hand held to his tightened its hold.

Bear with it as gently as you can, Pitch pressed through on an equally irked tune - They are frightened enough as it is

I get that, Jack gingerly agreed, throat reddened by the increasing rise in frustration, as he bit his resolve and opted to hold his tongue less he increase the hostile vibe that already lingered heavily in the air - but how the fuck is this ever gonna get any better if all we’re doing is giving Jamie more time to prepare as well? He urged. Pitch for fucks sake, this is ridiculous

If anything, the tone in his holders slight growl told him, that the man was sharing his acute annoyance.

I am quite aware

Around the table, the conversation had slipped into polite chatter about the general idea of the living standards of an ever-changing fortress, and of how such a thing could even exist in the first place. Still, considering their own charms, and all that Jack had seen from the ones gathered around the table, it did not seem an unreasonable stretch to imagine its, though admittedly, rather bizarre presence a possibility.

Quietly, with a feeling of something akin to giving up, Jack opted to let them have their distraction and instead stole a glance to Pitch’ brilliant gold, only to find the man already silently regarding him.

How bad is it? Jack asked. Their fears, that is. What are you sensing?

Lightly, he heard the man scoff under his breath, before answering. Quite bad, Pitch admitted with something that sounded torn between disgust and a deep sense of understood, accepted pity - Their fears are practically visible enough to cut through

Restlessly, though the angle was a tad strange, a clawed thumb caressed over the bend of Jacks knuckle. You see fears as something physical? he asked.

At times, yes. Pitch explained, to which Jack felt his brow arch in slight fascination. If the root of the fear runs deep enough, then I see them as a collection of colours

So what, you see halos? Jack pressed. Like an aura?

Not quite

Then how?

Beside him, the fine brilliance of Pitch’ gold left in favor of moving - the mans gaze narrowed, as it trailed up the delicate curve of Toothianas lithe frame. With a subtle hum, the light frown that plagued Pitch’ features deepened. As an example, the man started, as he once more averted his gaze to instead watch the swaying petals of the flowers around and before them unfold - their crowns vibrating lightly, as Bunnymunds hand roughly tried and failed to brush them aside Tooths hands and neck are covered in a fine, misty layer of mint green

Which is what?

Usually, it refers to personal harm Pitch pressed back, just as the good doctors hands closed around a cluster of flowers that had started to bend and close over his head, which he, with a surprisingly gentle tug, managed to dislodge from his person. All of them, Pitch continued, as he watched the colourful mess sway and dance in Bunnymunds grip, before the man all but hurled them away, all except for Nicholas and yourself, are sporting a sickly hue of shimmery yellow

Which is what? Jack asked, to which the small tug of the corner of Pitch’ mouth remained without any genuine humor.

Jamie

With a small ‘oh’ spilling from his lips, Jack felt the hand above his once more squeeze in gentle reassurance.

Indeed

At that, Jack opted to focus back onto the conversation in front, only to find that it had stayed much the same, as when he had left it. Absently, his heel stabbed into the tall grass spreading out beneath his chair, his brow knitted, as a sudden thought struck him. Hey Pitch? He tried, to which the man softly hummed in return. Were you serious about the bait thing?

Ever so slightly, Pitch’ head moved, the brilliant gold narrowed in suspicion, as it once more settled onto his form.

I was

You know, Jack started, and already, Pitch seemed to know where he was going with it - I could always volunteer for that

Absolutely not, Pitch cemented in a tone that left no room for argument, besides, you would be too obvious a target. He would know that you have not come alone

Oh come on, Jack pressed right back. You know it could work. He insisted. While you all hide in the bushes, I could just go out in front of the gates, do a little tap-dance, arms waving and all that

Entertaining, I'm sure. Pitch drawled in a crisp, slightly offended manner, which left the communication quiet for a long, reluctant beat on Jacks behalf.

Well, Jack pressed on, once he thought it safe to do so – If you’re not up for me doing all of the hard work, then we could always sneak out together and get it done with. Over and out, before the rest of this lot catches up with reality, he offered. Beside him, Pitch somehow managed to scowl even further.

Borrowed as our bed may be, Jack, I would tie you to it if you tried to offer yourself up in such a ridiculous manner

At that, Jack felt a sly smirk split across his features, ice sparkling with hopeful anticipation, as he gazed at the other. You know, he pressed back at the others quiet hostility - I wouldn't really mind that.

Beside him, Pitch’ gold flickered, the unspoken dare as cold, as it was filled with a sharp, silent promise. With a welcomed stab of frightened elation, Jack caught the sinister undertone, as the others gaze turned loaded.

Careful now

Dizzy from it all, a happy little laugh escaped him, as Jack felt the corner of his mouth jerk up further. Since when? He challenged with a sense of giddy joy, to which Pitch’ gold narrowed - the man seeming to be on the brink of spitting something back, when Bunnymunds cold, harsh rasp cut across the table.

‘’Would you two fucking focus already?’’

Immediately, Pitchs gold fell into annoyance, all traces of the teasing edge gone, as it snapped to the others glaring form.

‘’Depends.’’ Pitch countered on a dry drawl, which somehow managed to sound like the insult that he probably meant for it to be. ‘’Are you done talking in the language of a stupefied child?’’

Across, Bunnymund glared impossibly harder, the fleeting calm that he had gathered withering, as his mouth adopted a fresh sneer. No doubt irked, he opened it to spit something foul back, before Toothiana, much to the relief of the remaining gathered, beat him to it.

‘’Now now boys.’’ She thinly chimed in. ‘’I understand that we are all on edge here, but do try to follow the red thread of the chatter.’’

‘’Which is what?’’ Pitch huffed back, as he kept his gaze locked to the barely suppressed hatred still freely beamed straight at him from the good doctor. Beside him, North waved a hand, as he spoke up.

‘’More poison.’’

‘’It is not poison Northy.’’ Bunnymund insisted, as he, with a grit back curse, all but slammed an additional series of vials down onto the shared table between them. ‘’It’s a numbing agent.’’ He explained, as he swiftly spread them out below his palm – a single vial quickly held close between two fingers, as he snatched it up and held it out for all to properly see.

Clearly curious, North leaned in close to get a better look at it. ‘’Painkiller?’’ The man asked, as he picked one up and turned the small vial about in his hand.

‘’Something like that, yeah.’’ Bunnymund agreed, as he slid one over to Sanderson, who happily accepted it. ‘’It’s gonna help with the worst of the discomfort that’ll come from facing Jamie.’’

‘’Charm wise?’’ Pitch huffed without much interest, as he too picked one out from the small pile that now lingered right beside the doctors slightly trembling palm.

‘’’Course’, what else would it be for.’’ Bunnymund gruffed dourly, as he raised said palm to aid in popping the lid of the vial, which he had picked out for himself. ‘’It won't interfere with your head.’’ He stressed, as he, with no hesitation, raised it to his lip and promptly drank its contents. ‘’Nor is it gonna hinder your movement.’’

Beside the good doctor, Toothiana hesitantly examined her own vial close – the jewels on her wrist clinking softly, as she turned it about. ‘’Why take this already?’’ She asked, just as Bunnymund carelessly threw the empty vial and lid onto the table before him. Loudly, it bounced across the surface, before coming to a hold at the very edge of it.

‘’To give me enough time in case there are any side-effects that I need to know of.’’ He gruffed. ‘’A sense of lowered sensation is to be expected,’’ he stressed ‘’as is a loss of taste and smell.’’

Seemingly as one, all – Pitch included, albeit the mans gaze remained full of distrust - drank up.

Loudly, Jack wrinkled his nose, as he all but had to shield his displeased grimace behind a lightly fisted palm. ‘’Fucking hell that tasted sour.’’ He managed to hiss out on a slightly chocked voice. To his left, Toothiana likewise seemed to struggle.

‘’Well, it can’t always taste like sunshine and rainbows.’’ Bunnymund huffed, as he crossed his arms over his chest and dared to rest back against his chairs floral bend. Promptly, the shaking green seemed to attempt to cover him and so, once more, he leaned forth to let his elbows graze the table. ‘’But regardless, the effects should come about in an hour or so. If there’s anything I need to know, then let me know. If not, kindly don’t.’’

‘’Delightful.’’ Toothiana said on a light chime of a strained chuckle, before she too had to brush a slight sway of flowers off of her lap. ‘’Now, are there any other lesser circumstances that needs discussing, before we move on to more exciting topics?’’

Immediately, North perked up in his own, overgrown seat. ‘’Jack still need source.’’ He insisted on an urgent note, to which Bunnymund shook his head once in a stern dismissal.

‘’There's no time for that.’’

With a slight smile ghosting over the frame of her lip, Toothiana turned her head to direct a curious, lifted brow at him. ‘’Oh but there is dear.’’ Toothiana insisted, to which the good doctor huffed out something rough and disagreeing, before he, with a slight look of betrayal, glared off to the side.

‘’A temporary one maybe,’’ Bunnymund countered on a dry note ‘’but not anything permanent.’’

‘’And a temporary source is still better than none at all.’’ Toothiana softly hummed in reconciliation, as she raised a hand to alleviate some of the tension still stuck in the twitching muscle of Bunnymunds arm.

With slight amusement, though the tone remained entirely unfriendly, she fixed a poignant glare towards Pitch. ‘’We have until spring.’’ She pressed on a voice that held nothing but an acute order and the expectancy for dire, impending results, as, bit by bit, beneath her palm, Bunnymund seemed to relax ever so slightly. ‘’Find him one and get him as attuned as you possibly can.’’

Lowly, in a manner that betrayed neither thought nor feeling for the matter at hand, Pitch nevertheless agreed on a curt nod of his head as likewise, he implored the hand under his to turn - clawed fingers careful, as they twined into Jacks.

‘’I shall.’’

Chapter Text

‘’Are you certain that wood is the most pliable option for you?’’

Lightly, Jack shrugged in a noncommittal reply, his hands slightly splayed out at his sides to regain balance, as he made his way up the thick, sturdy branch of the overgrown ivy, which were snaking ahead and up the sides of the crammed tunnel that they were navigating through. Truthfully, he had never seen this type of green reach to such an impressive size - the growth aggressive, expanding further, as the pair struggled their way through. ‘’I mean,’’ Jack started, as Pitch rather aggressively tugged flowers and vines out of the dirt of the walls, ceiling and floor to clear a path for them ‘’not really?’’

Just in front, Pitch breathed in deep, the man bracing himself, muscles of his upper arms flexed, as a particularly sturdy branch resisted the forceful removal. ‘’But it felt right for the time being?’’ He pressed, as he tested the path in front for any unstable footing.

‘’It did, yeah.’’ Jack said, as he lowered his head, the creeping moss soft and cool under his feet, knees bent, as he made his way under a web of low hanging vines. ‘’I mean, I still think it’s the right element, but you know, I’m kinda new to this whole thing. I could be wrong about it.’’

The air smelled strangely sweet, a light trace of a bitter undertone drifting along, as they made their way further in. ‘’If it felt right then, then it will still hold true in this present hour.’’

On a hum, Jacks palm closed around a thick set of vines, before he ducked under another. ‘’Well,’’ he lightly agreed, as he once more shrugged ‘’I guess.’’

The lull in the conversation slowed to a stale, halting beat, the feel of the mans palm warm and firm against his own, as Pitch reached back to steady him securely through a particularly dense growth.

Not that he particularly needed to be treated with such fine care, but the attention was nonetheless a welcomed one.

A moment later, Jack stopped short in his forward progression, as Pitch bid him to - the man busy, as he strained his weight against another cluster of twining green and briefly, Jack considered going back to fetch the scythe that still rested within their shared quarters. But then again, he mused, as he gingerly shoved a heavy vine with its attached leaves of green out of his face - he doubted that there would truly be proper room to swing it in the first place.

‘’Oh,’’ Jack started up again, as the sudden thought struck him ‘’Pitch, by the way?’’

‘’Yes?’’

‘’Do you seriously believe that Tooth was lying?’’

Ahead, the man seemed to slow in his tedious work, the muscles of his back moving, as Pitch straightened enough to roll his shoulders thrice. Lightly, he raked the back of a hand over his forehead, claws bent, as said hand turned to brush and school what few strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes, back into their rightful position.

On a hum, Pitch turned to direct a swift glance of brilliant, narrowed gold and slight curiosity at him. ‘’I believe that she knows more on the specific, discussed topic than she is currently letting on.’’

While blinking rapidly, Jack cocked his head to the side. ‘’Like what?’’ He pressed, to which the little tic that had seemed to have made itself at home in the corner of Pitch’ mouth, jerked up into a thin, unamused smirk, which, really, could only be described as thoroughly annoyed.

‘’The details of what my suspicions entail, would require us months of explanation, as to have any true, tangible merit in sounding reasonable.’’ Pitch huffed back on a tone that, despite his rather harsh expression, remained smooth and without any true, directed judgement. Regardless of that, behind the man, and just as Pitch turned away to continue his work, Jack loudly rolled his eyes.

‘’That sounds like a shit excu-’’

‘’Everyone has something that they want, Jack.’’ Pitch said, as his hand closed around a particularly thick vine. ‘’And the knowledge of whatever that is-’’ the man all but hissed out through clenching teeth, as he tugged hard on it, causing a light spray of dried up soil and pebble to rain down from above. ‘’That,’’ he roughed, as he shook the worst of the dust and dirt from his eyes and hair ‘’is one of the most powerful weapons that you could possibly hold.’’ With a strained breath, Pitch settled a boot onto the heavy growth of blocking green, the man pushing himself through, after he had created a space wide enough for him to do so.

Here, the strange sweetness seemed to increase – the bitterness edging towards a foul sour.

‘’Aight,’’ Jack said, as he watched the other test the moving green of the twitching floor for any sudden declines. ‘’With that in mind, what do you believe she’s…’’ he tried, before trailing off, as the clawed hand that Pitch had reached back to guide him through, stopped to instead once more stall him ‘’…after?’’ he finished on a low tone regardless, as the man seemed to hone in on a specific part of the trembling green.

In front, Pitch’ expression morphed into a soft frown.

‘’I am not certain as to what her ultimate goal is.’’ He admitted, just as Jack caught on to what had the other so engaged – his attempt to jerk back after his rather distressed jolt and resulting, horrified gasp denied, as Pitch unapologetically tightened his hold. ‘’All I am steadfast on, is that she will do all in her power to stop me from achieving mine.’’

In front and below, a tide of pure black spread out like a bad omen, the wave of shade spanning out further, impossibly far, as it pushed the last of the deceiving green aside. Beneath the thriving shield of growth, Jack noted the tiny white specks racing along the stem of the flowers, vines and twining ivy – the dying green all swaying as one to the unheard tunes of their withering doom.

At once, and just as Pitch closed an unrelenting palm around Jacks wrist and lightly tugged his petrified form forwards, the last traces of the illusive grandeur seemed to fade with the appearance of the bugs.

Mites.

Those were definitely mites in between the rotting roots and stems and-

‘’Fucking hell.’’ Jack grumbled softly, if a tad shakenly, under his breath, as Pitch implored him to climb proper onto his back. With a care that Jack was not certain that he quite possessed, his legs closed around the mans middle - the skin of his knuckles painted a stark white, as his fisted hands rested along the exposed skin of the others collarbone. ‘’Just-’’ Jack started, as Pitch, without sparing much of a delaying thought for it, stalked on through the swaying greens and darker, murkier browns again ‘’Gods, that’s nasty.’’ Jack whined on a slightly winded note, his eyes closed tight in disgust, as he hid his face against the side of the others neck in an attempt to avoid the worst of the ever increasing smell.

Alas, it hardly did him any good.

In an amused form of response, Pitch hummed a dark tune at him, the mans claws careful, as he adjusted his grip ever so slightly. ‘’It will all have collapsed within the passing of the day.’’

‘’What, the green?’’ Jack gruffed on a slightly choked note, to which he felt the other shake with a light, gentle laughter.

‘’Indeed.’’

Below, something creaked, as a part of the soft and yielding green broke beneath their combined weight.

‘’Aight,’’ Jack started up again, as he braved himself to peek an eye open, only to abruptly shut it again. As he had feared, the sight that had greeted him had indeed not been much better than the first. ‘’So Tooth wanna curb your goals?’’

‘’As I have implied, I am quite certain of such, yes.’’

Softly, Jack hummed around his barely suppressed fit of nerves, whole body tensing in fright, as something wet and sticky brushed him by. ‘’And what is it that you want?’’ He managed on a voice that was steadily climbing towards a rather shrill tune. ‘’The crown, right?’’ He wheezed out through a rapidly restricting throat. ‘’Your title. You want your title back.’’

Practically, Jack could taste it in the air, as Pitch’ strained smirk turned sly and calculating.

‘’That as well, Jack.’’ Pitch agreed, as he, by the feel of it, had to duck under another set of low hanging vines. ‘’But that is quite the oversimplification of the matters at hand.’’

‘’I mean I guess?’’ Jack breathed into the others neck, his voice rather muffled, as he huffed out a strained, little laugh. ‘’But that’s still the general idea of it, isn’t it?’’

‘’Quite so.’’ Pitch agreed. And then, with an air of defensive suspicion creeping into his voice, ‘’You disapprove of the concept.’’

‘’Nah not really.’’ Jack argued, as he dared to relax his hands enough for his fingers to splay out over the others scarred skin, instead of their desperate clutching. ‘’But that’s a pretty dangerous thing to wish for.’’ He, rather harshly, hissed into the shared space between them.

Softly, despite the angle being rather off, Jack felt his pulse quicken, as the movement of the others head caused a brief touch of lips to brush against the tip of his ear - Pitch’ voice full of something old and sharp, as the man hummed a low, dark tune in thought. ‘’Would you try to stop me, Jack?’’

For only a brief beat, Jack managed to hold the others fiery gold, before his eyes once more fell shut.

I don’t know anything about this man, he mused, as he pressed his face back against the warm safety of Pitch’ neck. Not really, anyway. Not really. But, regardless of that,

‘’No.’’ Jack said back and knew it to be the truth. ‘’No, I don’t think that I would.’’

--

Definitely not it, Jack thought with a frown, as his fingers ghosted over the wooden handle of the meat cleaver that Pitch had handed him. Source, he thought, as the man tilted his head, attentive gold narrowed, as he waited for the analyzed results with clear expectancy. A source that would be strong enough to withstand winters cry as well as-

‘’No?’’ Pitch asked and softly, Jack shook his head in a stern dismissal.

‘’Nope. Not even close.’’

--

A soft chime of laughter broke out, as Pippa, with obvious glee in her twinkling eyes, shook her head and lightly slapped Claudes arm in a way that spoke of deep-seated fondness. Beside and around them, crammed into one of the tunnels as they all - sans for their holders still engaged in another lame meeting - were, a late dinner was eaten. It had taken them the better half of an afternoon to rid it off the extensive floral waste, and, while it was not by any means a perfect job, with their combined efforts put into it, it had proven comfortable enough.

Granted, Jack mused, as he, rather passively, focused his attention back onto the game taking place right next to him - the gardens had been left intact, but as it were, they had politely been asked to stay out of them for the time being.

‘’Checkmate.’’ Caleb said from his place on one of the quilts, which had been dragged along for the occasion, as he moved one of the white, crudely carved pieces directly to the left on the primitive board, which he and his brother had constructed out of whatever twigs and paints and other materials that they could find.

‘’Damn.’’ Cupcake, rather surprised, hummed lowly in return, as she sat back a bit with a wide-eyed expression. ‘’How the hell…’’ She grumbled softly under her breath, as she stared in a manner that could really only be considered as dumbstruck.

Beside her, Monty gently patted her arm in a rather stiff, but nevertheless friendly manner. ‘’Language. It was a good game regardless.’’  He weighed in on a tone that sounded entirely too tired, to which, on a huff, Cupcake snorted.

‘’Nah it wasn’t.’’ She huffed, as she, with a single flick of the finger, sent the crude, carved imitation, which served for the black kings’ piece, tumbling over.

--

‘’Perhaps,’’ Pitch tried, as he eyed the thick beams of a bookshelf that had been spared the worst of the murky, invasive growth ‘’perhaps it could potentially be-‘’

With a large crash, the bookshelf met its doom, as Pitch toppled it over and, with a show of rather great strength, ripped one of the sturdy beams clean off of its dusty frame. Without a comment, Jack reached out and accepted the piece, as Pitch held it out for him to take.

‘’I mean,’’ Jack mused, as he turned it about in his hands ‘’It’s close but…’’

Definitely not it either.

In front, Pitch regarded him for a long, quiet beat, the gold narrowed in thought, as a wave of pure black ghosted thin tendrils up onto the wall behind. Up they went, up and out over the ceiling itself, the dark spreading like a suffocating ink, as, on a hum, which sounded entirely too much like an exhausted sigh, Pitch flicked his claws out beside his own head in a show of strained patience.

‘’Well?’’ Pitch asked, to which Jack grumbled a rather disengaged tune.

To be fair, Jack mused, as he observed the delicate patterns of frost, which curled themselves along the carved edges of the thick beam - they had been at it every day for the near full end of a week already.

‘’Lighter.’’ Jack observed, as the chill crept through the beam in a way that just felt… off. ‘’Something lighter.’’ He mused aloud, as he met the others tired gold head on. ‘’Lighter and smoother.’’

--

‘’Hey Caleb, by the way.’’ Pippa, still lounging about in their conquered tunnel, asked around the bite of another late dinner. ‘’Are you still afraid of spiders?’’

Somewhere to her left, Caleb visibly bristled, as he turned his head and fixed her with a suspicious look. ‘’Who told you that?’’

‘’So, you are?’’ Pippa, undeterred by the obvious discomfort that she had put the other under, pressed on, as she tried and failed to hide a thoroughly amused smirk behind the bend of her borrowed fork. Beside her, Calebs stare turned into something that came dangerously close to irked.

‘’Why are you asking me this?’’ He implored, to which Pippa simply shrugged a deceivingly casual shoulder.

‘’Well for starters, love,’’ she said in a sing-song manner, as she wiggled her brows at him ‘’there’s one climbing up your leg right now.’’

Before Caleb had even had time to react, Claude had managed to reach out a hand and flick it off.

--

‘’Yes.’’

Loudly, with a stab of joy that wrecked through his chest like a roar, Jack nodded his head, as in front, Pitch’ face cracked into a thoroughly pleased smirk.

‘’Are you certain?’’ The man asked. ‘’We do not have to settle the search here, if you are not completely convinced of its value.’’

Softly, while letting the fingers of the hand not currently busy clutching the rather thin but sturdy branch ghost over the low wall beside them, Jack once more nodded - the cold wrapping around his palm and in between the spaces of his fingers, as he bade it to. Source, he thought, as he returned the relieved smirk with a grin bright enough to challenge that of the pale rays of the winter sun. Truly, he felt it in his heart that it was as close as he would get for the time being. This, he realized, as he raised it high and called the winds to, this was not his true source, not really, but for now, it would be good enough. It was good enough.

‘’Yeah.’’ Jack said in affirmation, as the air became frigid enough to show in gentle, white puffs with each of Pitchs elated exhales. ‘’Yeah I think it’s the one.’’

--

‘’Seriously, who told you about the spider?’’ Caleb grumbled into his own plate of steaming dinner, to which, beside him, Cupcake softly snickered. Beside them, Claude visibly blanched.

‘’Wait, are you still mad about it?’’ Pippa softly inquired on a voice that sounded entirely as sincere as she looked, to which Caleb merely glared in return. Beside the man, Cupcake lowered her fork, her lips pressed into a thin, but still amused smirk, as she jerked her head in the direction of Calebs’ own brother, which, by the looks of it, seemed to be doing his best to adopt an innocent face.

‘’Who do you think?’’ Cupcake offered.

If the horror, which dawned on Calebs face was anything to go by, it had been a poor attempt and so, with no small amount of betrayed bitterness in his tone, Caleb placed a hand to his own chest, before shaking his head in disappointment.

‘’Oh you bastard.’’

--

It was a small thing that had registered in his chest at first, something responding from deep within him as he called for it – the chill guided along by his intense focus, easing down through his arm and finally out through the fingers, which were tightly digging into the flaky bark of the staff that he clutched. It hurt. It hurt something fierce and tightly, Jack grit his teeth against it, each breath shallow, slow, as his lithe frame burned with the strain of keeping it contained.

Still, the chill wanted out. It wanted through, the beating of its drumming pulse making his veins feel heavy, as the pressure continued to increase into a magnitude of strength and scale that he did not quite know what to make of. It was too much. It was too-

Gently, as though sensing the panicked hitch in his focus, a clawed hand settled to the side of his face, the soothing circles doing little to ease his fright, as Pitch implored him to close his eyes and endure it for a little while longer. Just a little while yet. Just a fraction more to see how much he could take it. How far he could go before it tore him apart and-

‘’What do I do with it?’’ Jack asked on a voice gritting with the effort to suppress, to contain, as he promptly shut the lid tight on that particular string of thought. In front, the subtle sound of shifting fabric remained nearly mute, the gesture drowned out by the hissing roar of the oncoming storm, as Pitch raised a numbed palm out and held it steady in the air between them.

The weather was biting, the onslaught of snow and ice and gelid winds relentless and really, it should have chilled him to the bone. Still, Jack felt nothing. Nothing at all but the freezing needles in his blood and the ever-increasing wish for the impending release.

‘’Start by focusing it into a fine point.’’ Pitchs rasp registered just barely over the sweeping cold, and in return, startled by its stark, sudden contrast, Jacks eyes fluttered open in shock for the briefest of beats, as an intense heat settled against his chest - the warmth scorching, as Pitch rested his palm to the spot just above Jacks heart. ‘’Draw it in.’’ The man ordered, his brilliant gold hard, void of any pity, as he applied slight pressure to the area for emphasis. ‘’Let it grow. Center it as much as you can. Endure, Jack. Embrace it for all that it is. You must.’’

It tingled. Despite the hurt making his chest constrict in pained, uncontrollable spasms, which stole his breath away, the touch tingled in a way that could almost count as ticklish.

And still, it hurt. A tingling hurt.

A ticklish-

Again, the touch of five sharp points dug themselves deeper against the pale, tingling flesh of his chest, the prick of demanding claws causing little depressions in his skin, yet they still did not press to the point of it breaking.

‘’More, Jack, more.’’ Pitch demanded, as a single finger on the clawed hand still cradling Jacks face snaked behind his ear and caressed up the blue-tinted shell of it. ‘’Press for as long as you can.’’

Beneath his feet, a tremor shot through the ground on which they stood, Jack gritting his teeth anew, as the very essence of winter shot up and flooded through - shards of raw, naked glass breaking loose from the swirling mess that he had created within, the roar snaking through his chest and crawling out of his throat, as he breathed pure, untamed ice. Around, the temperature dropped rapidly, the very particles of the air freezing solid, making it hard to breathe as soon - yet, by the gods was it not soon enough, not by a longshot – as Pitch ordered it of him, Jack saw his holders breath ghost out in a clear, white mist, which whirled about both of their heads.

Jack knew that he was hurting Pitch and yet, the man stubbornly kept his palm solely planted above his madly beating heart, the touch remaining a burning point of contact, contracting his skin in painful little jerks, the gesture grounding, despite the branding heat feeling as if it would melt right through him.

This terrible cold, Jack realized, as he stared wide-eyed up into the proud display of brilliant gold before him - this terrible chill was his to do with as he pleased. Frost clung to his eyelashes as he blinked slow, his pulse quickened to an unmatched crescendo that made his head spin anew, as a terrifying calm overtook him. Something seemed to click in him then, the last shard of whatever illusive puzzle that he had been assembling settling into place and leaving him with nothing but a resolute, driven focus.

Steady. It was done.

He was ready.

And so,

‘’What do I do with it?’’ Jack repeated and while Pitchs frame might not have been outright trembling from the cold, his voice held the hint of it. It was a small jerk really, a fraction of a second, as Pitch’ mouth jerked up into a smirk of pure anticipation, before slipping back into a sense of deep, deceptive stillness.

‘’Now, Jack,’’ Pitch purred in a dark, crisp curl laced in the velvet calm, which came before irreparable destruction ‘’now, you let it out.’’

Slowly, Jack turned to face the open field that lay before them, his silly little heart mourning the loss, as the ten, burning points of blessed fire left his cheek and chest in a numb, graceful sway. With purpose in the gesture, his own hand settled on the rough brick beside them, Jack swift, as he hauled himself up and crouched low on the wall. Beside him, tall and ever imposing, Pitchs robe blew wildly about with the sway of the wind, breath baited, as Jack called out to the storm with a fervor that he himself had not quite known that he possessed.

Let it rage, he thought.

Here we fucking go.

‘’Show me, then.’’ Pitch encouraged, the tune a beckoning dare despite the muffled fashion of it, as the man had to shield the lower parts of his face, as the snow and wind and ice became sharp enough to cut through any skin still recklessly exposed to their elements. ‘’Show me how far that you can let it spread.’’

Focusing it was hardly a challenge and greatly, Jack felt his core tingle with eagerness, as he willed it to gather into a finer point yet. He took a deep breath, one hand curled around the walls gruff edge for balance and soon, practically upon his very touch alone, he felt it crack from cold, as the stone was forced apart. Impatient, he realized – the cold was impatient. It needed out. It needed through in a manner, which would tear anything apart in its wake if he dared delay its release any longer and so, Jack swung the staff in a wide arch, before he could destroy the foundation or himself for that manner, further than he already had.

The very air around him trembled from the wave of the pressure, the tears on his cheek frozen solid, as a great, deafening boom sounded and ahead, ahead and below, a single beam of pure, glowing white shot out in a straight, ragged line, the point racing across the frozen ground before it– dear gods he could not breathe – forced the earth itself apart, digging deeper yet, causing a dent in the rock and soil and pebble, as the ice and cold and the crude, gelid focus of his own pent up rage raced ahead and out, out, out with a horrible, shattering cry.

White, Jack thought as he pressed a palm to his stinging eyes and tried to breathe into a pair of lungs that did not quite remember how to do so – everything was white and ruined. Ruined, as the ground that he had forced apart.

‘’Good!’’ He heard Pitch’ proudly exclaimed bark of praise as though from deep underwater, Jacks breaths unsteady, as he nearly slid off the wall from the massive onslaught of the headache that slammed into him with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. ‘’Very good, Jack, very good!’’

White. His insides were edged in sharp white. The white pristine of snow and ice and cold, relentless hunger. White tinged with red. White tinged with black. Was that his vision blacking out, or had he scratched his eyelids to blood?

‘’Jack?’’

Slowly, Jack managed to blink against the freezing relief of his own, trembling palm, his head swimming, as, through his lightly parted fingers, he caught the hint of gold swimming amongst a sea of black and white and red somewhere in his peripheral vision.

Faintly, far softer than he thought it ought to be, he heard a small, understanding ‘ah’ be muttered from within the static, shimmering white of the storm still descending upon them, as his own numb, tingling lips failed to form any coherent words of reassurance in return. The staff dropped from his limp hand and a beat later, a burning touch connected with his shoulder and across his back in a firm anchor, the fiery warmth spreading through and bringing some semblance of comfort, tugging him closer still and keeping him from falling further, as finally, his bended legs completely gave out from under him.

-

‘’Breathe.’’ A stern voice ordered him and in return, as he managed to crack an eye open, a splitting pain shot through the forefront of his head, the feel of moving claws gentle, as pure, blissful fire held his trembling form close. ‘’Breathe, Jack. Breathe.’’ Pitch ordered, as he held him as close as the angry bite of the lethal cold would allow for. ‘’Just breathe.’’

For now, there was not much else for him to do and so, with a soft whimper from how much that little act alone hurt, Jack did.

Perhaps only a minute passed, perhaps it was an entire hour spent in that floating sea of blinding white and black and murky greys of the mouth of the damned tunnels that he had been brought back into the safety of, but eventually, the world stopped spinning, his head clearer, as his eyes finally focused enough to discern his surroundings.

Lightly, Jack panted, his whole body numb, as he looked up at the other, up into the small but thin, cautious smile that remained as full of affection, as it was worry. ‘’There you are.’’ Pitch, with his raven head haloed by the great flurry of snow that still wafted its way inside, rumbled softly in relief, as the back of a clawed finger carefully grazed Jacks reddening cheek. ‘’Just breathe, Jack. Just breathe for the time being.’’

Fuck it was cold, Jack tiredly grumbled to himself, as he stiffly managed to pat the nervous gesture away from his cheek, only to have it return in the form of an entire palm cradling his face - How the hell had it not bothered him before.

‘’Do you remember what happened? Do you know where you are?’’ The man asked, to which Jack gruffed out something low and inaudible, as he slowly, meticulously as to not disturb the still present nausea, which was clogging in his throat, tilted his head enough to press his face into the rough fabrics of Pitchs’ coat.

Still, though the peek had been short and lessened by the prickling sensation still rummaging through his skull with a great vengeance, outside, Jack had caught sight of the ruined wall and subsequently the forceful divide of a crater that had resulted from it. Already, the worst of the wreckage, though it hardly did much to shield the depression from the damage done, the ground and rubble had been covered by a sheen of pristine, white snow.

So it’s probably been more than a minute, he thought with a slight beat of fright that he did not quite know what to do with, before the implication of what he had managed hit him and- holy fuck I really just did that, didn’t I?

Lightly, the clawed hand against the side of his face slapped his cheek for attention. ‘’Jack.’’

‘’Bunnys.’’ Jack roughed on a voice that was anything but firm, his tongue feeling swollen, throat burning, as he swallowed around the worst of its parched discomfort. ‘’We’re at Bunnys.’’

If the strained exhale that Pitch let out sounded relieved, then Jack hardly had the energy to comment on it. ‘’We are.’’ The man confirmed and in return, Jack fully pressed his face into the others chest, his chilled hands shaking, each finger stiff and still stubbornly unresponsive, as he tried to curl them around the bend of Pitchs’ wrist.

In return, Pitch gingerly wedged his hand away before gently bumping him to sit further up.

Yeah, no thanks.

‘’I don’t wanna do anymore.’’ Jack mumbled through clattering teeth, as he gave up and let his hand fall back beside his partially prone form. ‘’Can we stop?’’ He pressed on a voice that sounded far too desperate for his own liking, but so be it, this was not the time for any delayed pride to take the wheel. ‘’Please?’’

Carefully, as Jack glanced up at the other, a hand carded through his hair, the wicked prick of claws careful, as they dispelled his eyes of any stray hair. ‘’Of course dear heart,’’ Pitch promised, as he pressed the other close and, despite the obvious care put into it not being so, as he helped him stand, managed to leave Jack with quite the dizzy-spell.

--

In its own sense, Jack, rather tiredly from his place against the slope of the dirt wall, pondered, as he watched Toothianas amused, calculating gaze narrow in a sense that remained light and relaxed, as she thought her move through - it was quite the change to see her like this. Seated on the rough of folded linen across from Pitch on the narrow path of the tunnel, engaged in a game of chess with the makeshift board serving as a neutral border between them, she looked genuinely happy to be present and included in the light activities taking place over their late, shared dinner.

The entirety of the demeanor that she displayed right now differed from the stoic woman that he had come to see her as, but of course, Jack berated himself, as he watched the colourful feathers twined into her hair move and shimmer under the dim torchlight, as she tilted her head with a little hum – of course her person would have more tunes to it than the one shown in the face of hardship and tribulation.

And yet, he thought, as he watched the gleam in her eye turn sharp and jarring, the sense of urgency was still very well present within her and would probably be as much until the whole mess of the situation that they found themselves in blew over.

It was not that much of a surprise though.

He deemed it fair.

A soft chime of a pearly laughter sounded, as Toothiana moved a pawn two steps forwards and sat back with a challenging dare in her twinkling gaze. ‘’Your move.’’ She spoke on a tune, which whispered faintly of old fright and joy and a sense of friendship that might have been entirely lost to the passing of time or never truly attempted towards a start in the first place. Whatever it was, Jack mused, as Pitch hummed in deep concentration, the mans golden glare narrowed, claw ticking against his own cheekbone, as he contemplated his own move – Jack had an inkling feeling that he had been too hasty in his harsh judgement of her.

Or not.

The whole display of the offered olive branch could be all for the sake of diplomacy, before they upped, linked their arms by the joints and charged towards the mouth of death.

In front, the bandages cradling Pitch’ palm made the movement slightly stiff and awkward, as the man finally extended a hand down to move a piece. The queen, Jack realized, as he forced the swell of guilt from being the very cause for the lame state of his holders’ hands back down into the pit of gelid rough that it came from.

The queen took a pawn, and then a tower as, through a series of moves that probably had a name and a definition to them that Jack did not know of, Toothiana took the bait and moved close enough to do so. Beside them, Claude cackled a deep, impressed tune into the steaming mess of his mashed up apple and oats, as within minutes, Pitch had his opponent thoroughly cornered.

‘’Check.’’

Another piece was moved, the white king on the panicked retreat, before the last of the two black towers closed in and-

‘’Hey, by the way.’’ On a thoroughly distracted hum, Jack turned his head towards Pippa as her hushed voice sounded close by his ear, only to blink rapidly, as she scooted closer and presented him with a little, rough pouch woven out of what appeared to be a thick, scratchy, black wool. ‘’I meant to give you this a little while back, but you’ve been pretty hard to find lately. I mean, I can’t really take credit seeing as it’s from Sandy, but,’’ she said, as she handed it over into his still partially unresponsive hands. ‘’We all got one and I was asked to make sure that you got yours too.’’

Carefully, Jack managed to turn the little gift and quickly found its contents to be rough, but yielding. ‘’What is it?’’ He asked on a voice still raw from the ice, brow narrowed, as the tip of a finger examined out over the neat little stitching of golden flowers that had been embroidered across the front of it.

‘’Sand. Dream sand I think North called it. Regardless, It’ll help you sleep, so keep it tight love.’’ Pippa answered him curtly, as through the tunnel, a light, barely noticeable tremor passed through the earth beneath and nervously, Pippa, along with Caleb and Jack himself all glanced up at the ceiling in a shared curiosity.

It was not the first time that it had happened though and as had been with the previous time that they had mused on its origin, they could still not locate any. Not that Bunnymund had been any help in laying out its reason either, but the good doctor had at least not appeared worried in the least when Cupcake had gone and brought it up with him. ‘’Or I mean,’’ Pippa continued on a slightly more subdued tone, as her eyes swiftly darted out towards the concluding game that was still taking place before them ‘’I can’t exactly speak on your behalf, but it has helped Monty a great deal these past few weeks.’’

‘’Monty has has trouble slee-‘’ Jack thinly started to ask after her, just as she abandoned her post and shoved herself forwards on her hands and knees. Willingly, with a smile that remained as warm as it did kind, Toothiana offered up the space right beside her – her beads and pearls and colourful feathers all moving with the fluent gesture, as she settled her arm across the bend of Pippas thin shoulders.

‘’Can I?’’ Pippa asked, to which, on a barely hid smile, Pitch nodded and gestured for her to set the board.

As had been with the first however, soon, he once more had the white king cornered.

Now Jack hardly knew much about the rules of chess, he admitted to himself, as he quietly ate the last of his icy chunks of apple and oats and watched the next combined game of Pippas and Toothianas united talents unfold. But still, he thought, as he watched the two women whisper in hushed tones to each other, grinning mouths shielded behind the soft fall of Toothianas shawl, as they put their combined efforts together in an attempt to score a clean victory - he still knew enough to know that while the tactic in and of itself was aggressive-

The white tower took a knight and in return, the black queen took the tower-

Pitch played recklessly.

--

The depression was still there, out in the open field. It had been covered in shimmering white and the harsh, sweeping kiss of winter, but the wound in the earth was still clearly visible through the cracked remains of the low wall that framed the beginnings of the hidden warren.

Quietly, with a hint of nerves set in the tight tension that reigned across the arch of his straightened spine, Jack looked up into Pitchs gold and hoped for a gentle session.

‘’Same old?’’ Jack asked, as he sent a small prayer to whichever god cared enough to listen to his ramblings, but alas, to his dawning horror, the man beside him simply smirked.

It was a crude gesture. A crude gesture void of any humor or mercy for his situation.

Of course, Jack quickly realized, as his fingers absently tightened around the staff to the point where he heard it creak from abuse – of course he would not show me mercy. Not unless I asked for an out of this entire thing and remained behind when the time came.

‘’No, Jack.’’ Pitch purred in reply and already, Jack felt the beginnings of a headache come on.

A polished weapon, the small voice in the back of his mind mockingly chimed in. Such a fine-tuned weapon he was being turned into.

Quietly, Jack turned to face the crude curve of the ragged line that he had carved into the soil the last time that he was here, the winds howling in an immediate response, as he called them to.

‘’This time, as you gather it, you will hold it longer. You will hold it until it seems your core would burst from the strain.’’

Fuck, Jack thought to himself and then lowly, as he breathed deep and embraced the wicked grip of the freezing shards in his chest, mumbled a single, determined-

‘’Aight.’’

-

White. White and red. White and gold and black and-

-

The stern arm gripped across his shoulders kept his forwarded stumbling secure, Jacks own slung over the back of a strong neck, his head heavy, deadweight leaned against Pitch’ shielding form, as he was guided ahead through the tunnels. Each step hurt, the forwards stride sending small shocks of pain up through his calves, but alas, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Last time had been worse.

Greatly, with an appreciation that could have broken the mind of a lesser, Jack collapsed front first onto the bed and willed the world to stop spinning so that he could just die in peace. Or, maybe nothing as dramatic, he corrected himself, as clawed fingers gently pried the staff from his grip and put it aside. Still, it had been a while since he had felt this kind of exhaustion wreak havoc on his system and quite honestly, he had not missed the ache of it.

With the depleted strength of one that had bitten over more than they could chew, but still managed to prevail through the thick of it, Jack painfully crawled a bit into the bed, before burying his face in a pillow.

‘’Pitch,’’ Jack managed to muffle out through a throat raw and tender from channeling an element that really, should have been lethal to possess. In response, he felt weight settle over the back of his thighs, the burning touch of claws and skin and unrelenting care welcomed in its advance, as the man in question set to ease out the tension in his sore muscles. ‘’Pitch.’’ Jack repeated without quite knowing what he was asking for, as a warm trail of fire worked its way over each knob of his hurting spine.

‘’I am here, dear heart, I am here.’’

Slowly, with a hint of annoyance from having to do so, Jack lifted his head and all out ditched the pillow, when the strain that it caused in his neck became too much. A beat later, warmth graced against the entirety of his back, a clawed hand finding his, the move done with expert care, as their fingers interlocked and blissfully, with a small groan of satiated joy, Jack felt himself relax enough to bask in the protective gesture of it all.

‘’That was quite the feat that you performed today.’’ The smooth rumble of deep, dark velvet purred in his ear, as a soft kiss laid itself to his cheek, the praise that Pitch was dishing out a welcomed approach, after the hellish session that the man had just put him through. ‘’You did well, Jack.’’

Sleepily, Jack managed to offer a noncommittal hum in return, as his eyes fell closed.

A beat later, he was fast asleep.

--

By the gods, he was still so bone crushingly tired, Jack nauseous in a way that he could not quite alleviate, as he mindlessly tried and failed to keep track of the banter going on around the holders table. Something important had been mentioned along the way, something crucial to their timing, he was very well aware of that, but for the life of him, he could not quite manage to focus through the light, persistent ringing in his ears.

It had been two weeks since Pitch had started dragging him out into the cold winds of the outside.

Not a single day had been skipped for the purpose of sleep.

Fiercely beside him however, casually slung back in her chair as though she had not a care in the world, Toothiana was chatting away with North and Sanderson, the men politely nodding along without adding much to the conversation at hand, while Pitch and Bunnymund were doing their hardest to ignore each other. The light string of words that had passed between them however, had been far more quiet if not impossibly more lethal and really, Jack was quite amazed that an entire conversation only existing of insults could take place, but here was a living, breathing example of just that. Still, as has been with the remainder of the meeting itself, Jack had only paid half a mind to it, but from what he had gathered, it seemed as if Bunnymund had been doing his best to tic Pitch off.

If the tight frown that Pitch sported, equaled with the random twitch of the knuckle-white fingers gripping his mug with a tad more strength than was practically needed, was anything to go by, then it had clearly worked.

‘’Isn’t it ironic.’’ Jack had heard Bunnymund hiss lowly under his breath, as he - undeterred by the light snores that Sanderson was letting out right beside him, after the little man had fallen asleep for the second time that very meeting - had kept his glare acutely focused onto Pitchs narrowed, molten gold. A beat of silence had passed between the two, the tension in the air visibly growing palpable, as Toothiana, either unaware of the growing storm beside her, or simply not caring for their antics, had chatted away, delicate hand waving wildly, as she described something to the topic of the effects of ginger and ale and honeycombs. ‘’All of yours have been injured in some way or another. Your seer outright blinded-’’

‘’Do keep your opinions on my lack of injury to yourself-‘’

‘’-and yet you still complain about-‘’

‘’Which you have absolutely no right to judge me for-‘’

‘’-the fact that I refuse to share any information on-‘’

He knew that the Bunnymund that he was seeing now was such a different character from the one that had treated his ills and chased the disease from his lungs. Whatever the mutual distain between the two holders was about, it was clearly personal and so, for once grateful for the shrill tunes blocking out most of his hearing, Jack had placed a palm over his ear and awkwardly scratched at his hair in an attempt to distract himself from the rising tension, which he felt slowly eat away of his already quite heavily frayed nerves.

‘’Make no mistake,’’ Bunnymund sneered lowly, each word breathed out through tightly clenched teeth ‘’I hope you perish right alongside that greedy bastard.’’

‘’The sentiment is mutual.’’

‘’Boys!’’ Toothiana barked hard enough that Sanderson startled right out of his slumber and looking about the plentiful garden with wide, confused eyes. With a single, crisp snap of the fingers, she managed to steal the attention of all present, before she, with a stern, disappointed glare, fixed Pitch with a baleful expression sharp enough to make even Jack want to apologize.

‘’Focus your anger rightly.’’ Toothiana huffed, the colourful pearls hugging her wrist tight clinking softly, as she moved her hand out in a graceful wave by her head and stared the man down. ‘’This is ridiculous. If not embarrassing to witness.’’

‘’Toothy-‘’ Bunnymund tried with a dry rasp, the doctor tilting his head with a cross expression, before he too, found himself on the receiving end of her scolding finger.

‘’And you, dear Aster, need to comply with the spell of silence as well. Stop this. Drop the menace, drop the provocations and focus.’’

Sanderson, for his part, remained Jacks personal hero, as the little man perked up in his seat and vigorously broke into an approving, enthusiastic applause.

‘’Now,’’ Toothiana clipped on a tone that dropped several degrees in temperature, as she shot Sanderson a look that was neither approving, nor chastising before she slowly but meticulously chewed her way through the rest of the sentence ‘’are you willing to cooperate or do I need to ground you?’’

Dryly, Bunnymund shot her a look of his own, that could hardly count as anything but irritated. ‘’This is quite literally my own home Tooth.’’

‘’And so help me, I will ground you regardless.’’

A fluttering of singed, colourful wings caught Jacks eye, as below, one of Toothianas few remaining birds curiously pecked at the ice, which had started to spread out from under his trembling palm. Carefully, he lifted his hand aside, Jack drawing a deep, grounding breath, as he willed the cold to calm the fuck down, before he could further freeze any of the re-growing green around him.

Beside him, Toothiana let out a slow, deep-felt exhale, before retreating slightly and allowing herself to rest back against the carved bend of the chair. ‘’Good choice, Aster.’’ She said on a tune that sounded far too exhausted for the else brilliant façade that she had managed to keep intact. And then, a tad more mellow, added a sincere ‘’Thank you.’’

From there, the conversation slid into another heated debate and while the topic seemed tame enough, Jack knew better than to press his luck and opted to remain quiet unless he had actual reason to weigh in.

Across from him, eyes once more adopting a sleepy list to their slowed blinking, Sanderson seemed to have gotten the same idea, the little man making himself more comfortable, heavy head tilting dangerously to the side, before his eyes fell properly shut.

Moments later, he had quite clearly fallen asleep.

Again.

Left with nothing to focus on, Jack, rather loudly, ignored the small sparks of fear that threatened to set his brain alit in a blind panic, as he carefully squeezed the little pouch, which now contained both sand and the numbing mixture that the good doctor had given him. Restlessly, he felt the vials clink and rub against each other, Jack tracing the roughness of the crude embroidery, fingers following the lines in a manner that had become routine, ritualistic, whenever the topic of the coming departure came up for discussion.

Winter was not letting up.

Spring had apparently been cancelled.

How the fuck was that even possible?

Regardless, Jack mused, as he stared at the frozen chunk of water framed neatly within his softly fogged-over glass. If it happened, if they failed, he wondered, would he stay whole way into his death and, as it had been with the bird, would a touch to his cold cheek from a random passerby be the thing to finally set the decay in motion?

Lame, the small voice in the back of his mind loudly berated him.

Realistic, he spat right back, as he, with a subtle huff that never quite left his throat, opted to ignore it.

--

A week passed, the training that Pitch had put him under intense and relentless and, after having crossed them doing laps in the tunnels once, Jack knew that Bunnymund and North had started theirs up as well.

Only Toothiana and Sanderson seemed to be calmly engaged in reading instead of the more physical activities. Or so Jack had thought, until he found the pair locked in a fierce sparring match in the middle of one of the grand gardens.

Dual swords clashing with rough, unyielding sand.

Flashing steel against a moving wall of bright, glowing gold.

It had been as beautiful as it had been lethal to behold.

--

Prompted along by Toothianas not so gentle prodding and want for a shared comradery - or at least a sense of team spirit - North had joined their late night dinner, the man deeply engaged in a tale of faraway lands and the riches that he had seen while passing through them.

Now, little over an hour past, hushed, as to not disturb the still talking North or the ones actually paying attention to what he was sharing, Caleb held up his hands in defeat. ‘’Fair enough sir, fair enough, I give.’’ He laughed, just as Monty lightly, as quietly as it was polite, nudged him out of the way in order to take his place at the board. The pristine white of the bandages had been exchanged for a simple blindfold, its light, matte grey doing a fairly decent job in looking comfortable, but still appearing thoroughly misplaced on his heavy head. Truly, Jack mused, as he watched Caleb set the board for the other - the ghoul looked haggard, skin sunken and pale, as he leaned his elbows on the bend of his knees.

Yet, as Monty ordered the pieces moved about, his voice remained as firm as it was intensely focused.

Mostly watching the game out of the corner of his eye, as he had likewise been keeping his attention on Norths tale of the tall, raging seas - and then something that had to do with giant geese and monkeys and eggs and the chocolate that Bunnymund used to make before everything went to shit - Jack had still kept it in mind enough to notice the sharp and frustrated gleam in Pitchs eye increase in intensity, with each move that Monty ordered.

A good twenty minutes passed, before the ghoul hummed low to himself, his face set in concentration, shaky fingers lightly clasped in an arch in front of his mouth, as he contemplated over something and - if the equally stern, serious gaze that Pitch had adopted was anything to go by, this was it.

A gamble that could go both ways.

All or nothing.

Monty ordered a single piece forward and the irked tic in Pitchs gold grew tenfold, as his brow likewise furrowed into a deep, frustrated crease. Another piece moved, the black queen falling, the last of their towers crumpling, the single remaining white pawn sacrificed before-

A shocked silence befell the ones in the cramped tunnel that had been paying attention to the quiet game, the only sound beside Norths bellowing laughter being that of Pitchs slow exhale, as the dethroned king accepted his predicament with a low, throaty growl.

‘’Checkmate, sir.’’

--

White. White and red. White and black and-

--

Jack chuckled low, as a clawed hand traced along the hem of his open shirt, Pitch’ other heavy on his lower back, as it drew him up close. Softly, the trace of a careful claw ghosted up the shell of his ear, thumb grazing over the plush of his lip, before the hand settled under his chin and applied pressure until Jack lifted it with a happy little noise spilling from his laughing mouth.

This was good.

Something calmed in his chest, as Pitch kissed him, the affection gentle, slow, in its unhurried advance and appreciatively, Jack allowed himself to bask in the solemn quiet that reigned between them.

This was all too good to last-

A claw skimmed under his eye, traced the curve of his cheekbone, Pitch’ brilliant gold full of something old and sharp and overflowing with adoration, as Jack gazed up into them and-

‘’Take off your clothes, Jack.’’

‘’Well shit, is that an order?’’ Jack asked on a laugh that was as amused as it was serious. ‘’Are you ordering me this?’’ He pressed, brow briefly arched in challenge, to which Pitch huffed something low and nonsensical. Claws traced his jaw, the touch moving down over the side of his throat, before it settled to his collarbone and on a delighted little hum, Jack caught the teasing edge in the others grin, as the hand against the small of his back guided him forwards into a loose embrace. A beat later, Jack felt himself smirk against the flushed skin of the others neck, as a feather-light kiss was likewise pressed to the top of his head.

‘’Never.’’

-

‘’Hey Pitch.’’ Jack started, and then continued, as the man in question hummed in acknowledgement. ‘’Why does Bunny hate you?’’

The fingers in his hair slowed, the quiet stretching like a bad spell in the air between them, before finally, after having sighed in a manner that relayed how much the man appreciated Jacks version of pillow-talk, gave his answer on a low and, quite frankly, annoyed tone,

‘’It would be more of an intense dislike at this point than any true, tangible hate.’’ Pitch started, his gold holding a tint of something weary, as Jack turned his head and peeked up at him. ‘’But if you must know, he has his fair share of reasons.’’

Carefully, Jack gave a small, hesitant smile in return to that. ‘’Would you share them with me?’’

For another little beat, Pitch was quiet, as he seemed to contemplate it. ‘’It would require quite the amount of information to explain the situation. And the story attached is not a short, nor pleasant one.’’

Lightly, Jack shrugged as well as the angle would allow him to. ‘’Humor me?’’

In return, Pitch raised a brow, his tone stale and unimpressed, as he hummed low to himself. ‘’Would you proceed to ask the good doctor himself if I refuse?’’ He asked, the small breath that eased into a sigh sounding grounding, as Jack wiggled his brows in clear challenge. ‘’Ah, but you already have, have you not?’’ He deadpanned, to which Jack gave another little shrug in response.

‘’His reply was vague at best.’’ Jack said. ‘’I didn't really hear half of it through the growls and grit out curses.’’

Softly, though he seemed to be fighting off the onslaught of a vicious headache, Pitch rubbed at the crease between his brows. ‘’What did he say.’’ The man asked, though it hardly sounded like a question.

‘’Not much, really. Just that you're a sad excuse of an individual.’’

‘’And,’’ Pitch clipped with a great deal of exhaustion, but no real scold in his voice, ‘’I imagine he uttered such a tad more colourfully than what your polite, little report relays?’’ He scoffed, to which Jack felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth.

‘’I mean, yeah, you're not wrong on that.’’ Jack agreed. ‘’But he really didn't tell me much at all and what he did say didn't make any sense.’’

The gold stared back in a manner, which could be read as both hesitant, and yet keen to protest about the ordeal as a whole - the quiet that fell heavy and lingering, before finally, something seemed to shift in the others resolve. Some foreign emotion were caught in the brilliant gold, that Jack could not quite name and nervously, he willed himself not to squirm under it. As Pitch spoke, it was on a tone, which was a lot more serious, than it had been just a few beats ago.

‘’What did he tell you?’’ Pitch repeated and again, Jack shrugged.

‘’Nothing, really.’’ He murmured back. ‘’Just that you're not fit to be in power.’’

In front, Pitch’ smile remained void of any humor. ‘’That is hardly a surprising statement.’’ The man agreed, to which Jack blinked, as he propped a hand under his head.

‘’Would you tell me of it?’’ Jack pressed and then proceeded to shut his eyes and lean into the touch, as a clawed palm first grazed and then turned to cradle his reddened cheek.

Slowly, Pitch let out a shaky exhale. ‘’I am a selfish man, Jack.’’ He said lowly. ‘’I must admit that I do not.’’

‘’It can't be that bad.’’ Jack argued, to which he got a small, strained huff in return and then watched, as the radiant gold locked onto something ahead. ‘’Besides,’’ Jack said, his smile stretching wider, as he peaked an eye open again ‘’what do you have to be afraid of? It's not like I'm going anywhere.’’

‘’Curious.’’ Pitch gruffed low under his breath.

‘’What?’’ Jack implored, to which Pitch shook his head ever so slightly.

‘’Curious.’’ The man repeated. ‘’How such a simple string of words could make the past sound so light, and yet, you know nothing of it.’’

In return, Jack offered up a small, warm smile that he hoped seemed as reassuring as he meant for it to be. ‘’You didn't answer my question.’’

‘’I have said that I do not want to.’’

Lightly, Jack shrugged. ‘’Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not as devastating as you think.’’

Once more, the brilliant glare of gold found his, the careful brush of a claw skimming under his eye, as Pitch softly hummed at that. Still, the man did not reply for the near half of a minute, and so, while sensing it to be for the better, Jack did not press.

Yet.

‘’Would you kindly leave this be?’’ Pitch asked on a tone, which did not feel like a complete dismissal, but still, Jacks smile lost a bit of its reassurance.

‘’I'd rather not.’’ He admitted and this time, the quiet that fell felt anything but comfortable. Absently, Jack worried a nail between the spaces between his fingers, before finally, the gold seemed to have made up its mind.

‘’Very well then,’’ Pitch started on a voice that was as much of a drawl as it was a prolonged sigh. ‘’However, I will ask that no matter how much you may feel like interrupting, you let me finish my piece.’’

Slowly, once, Jack blinked at the official tune to it, as he likewise tilted his head a tad. ‘’Aight.’’

The quiet stretched on for a near minute. Then,

‘’How much do you know of the lands that lie beyond the kingdom of Lunanoff?’’

Lightly, Jacks brow furrowed along with the curve of his puzzled frown. What a strange place to start, he mused, as he turned his head a bit to rest it just below Pitchs scarred collarbone. ‘’The ones close to the border?’’ He asked, as a clawed hand settled in his hair. ‘’The outer lands to the east?’’

‘’I would not quite call it by such a simple term, but yes. Those are indeed what I am referring to.’’

Once more, Jack hummed. ‘’Not a whole lot. I just know they're pretty big and a lot more hardy than we are.’’ He admitted, Jack bowing his neck to give better access, as claws started to caress down over the expanse of it. ‘’I spoke to a few merchants that had come through a couple of years back before I met you. I know that the rest of my village didn't like 'em, but I never figured out why. Or well, to be fair, I never really asked why. It didn't matter to me. I didn't care. Still don't really.’’ He concluded on a thoroughly pleased note, and then proceed to practically melt under Pitchs touch, as claws skimmed back up over his scalp. ‘’I dunno what to tell you, I don't know much about them. They're religious. They're fierce and most of them seem to have got a pretty bad temper, but, you know, considering how they were treated by the people back then, I can't really blame them.’’ Jack grumbled on yet another stiff, little shrug. ‘’Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure one of the guys I spoke to got spat at.’’

It was quiet for yet another beat,

‘’And their king?’’ Pitch pressed. ‘’What do you know of him?’’

‘’Ah, no, he's bad.’’ Jack huffed. ‘’Bad,’’ he repeated on a little laugh that did not quite hold any real mirth to it. ‘’Like real bad. Terrible. A terrible person. Murder, night raids, slaughter of civilians and all that.’’ He said, as he picked at the hem of Pitchs shirt. ‘’I mean, some of it might have been exaggerated, but he's an absolute nightmare. The horror of the east or whatever they called him.’’ Jack finished, to which Pitch hummed low.

‘’And who are 'they?'’’ The man asked, to which Jack shrugged.

‘’The townsfolk back in my old village.’’ He responded on a slight grumble, as he dug a finger beneath the fold and out over pale, scarred skin instead. ‘’Not that they ever said a whole lot, but honestly though, some of it sounded more like a scary story than anything. Just tales to frighten the smaller ones into behaving or something else along those lines I guess.’’ Jack pondered aloud, as he stretched out slow, before settling further against the warmth of Pitchs form. ‘’I mean, carving the tongue and ears off of a man before holding a torch to his face in front of his wife?’’ he huffed, ‘’That seems a little excessive. I think there was even something about boiling babies and cutting the eyes out from anyone that looked at him directly, but I really don't think there's any truth to it.’’

‘’Perhaps there is not,’’ Pitch agreed on a low hum of his own, as the careful press of claws lazily skimmed along Jacks hairline ‘’Perhaps there is indeed some semblance of truth to it.’’

Quiet fell for a beat, Jacks fingers splayed out, as he settled his palm flat against the mess of scars on Pitchs chest. ‘’He was still pretty horrible though.’’ Jack mumbled through the yawn that started to build in his throat. ‘’I think he actually declared war on us at some point, but it never went through. I know we had some sort of foreign attack against our own former king and some say he was behind it, but that's all before my time.’’ Jack mumbled, as he nudged his face into the warmth of the others chest. ‘’Or at least I think it is. I dunno exactly when it all happened. Or if it even happened at all.’’ He added, to which Pitch softly hummed.

‘’But the threat of it was real.’’ The man insisted, to which, again, Jack shrugged, before willing his eyes open, less he start to drift.

Still, the small voice in the back of Jacks mind mused - It felt as if he was missing the point of what Pitch was trying to say.

Quietly, Jack yawned, bottom lip momentarily stuck, as it caught to warm, living flesh. ‘’Were you a bad king?’’

‘’To my own people, no.’’ Pitch gruffed.

‘’And to the people around that weren't yours?’’ Jack pressed and immediately, the other drew a stark intake of breath, no hesitation present in his voice whatsoever, as the man answered,

‘’Horrible. Absolutely horrendous.’’

Quietly, Jack mulled over the information. Considering the fact that Pippa was not entirely young in years, he knew that Pitch had had to have been, when he himself reigned. Wherever that might have been… But still, that was yet too much for one little servant to think about in just one night. Important, yes, but the prospect still made him feel, as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff and whatever knowledge, still remained to be brought to light, would be the final weight that sent him crashing into the yawning abyss below. Accepting that the sleepy feeling was increasingly becoming harder to ignore, Jack let his eyes fall closed. Whatever the specific answer to that grueling enquiry would be, it could surely wait until the morning.

‘’Still. How does this relate to Bunny hating you?’’

‘’How would you think that it does?’’ Pitch pressed on a voice both hushed and stern and really, Jack was far too tired to think straight. Still, the nagging thought in the back of his mind started to knock on the forefront instead, but regardless of the answer seeming obvious, it all seemed too absurd to even be humored.

‘’Dunno.’’ Jack finally offered back instead of following that path of maddening design. ‘’I don't see how it would.’’

The pressing quiet was all that answered him for the better part of a minute and lightly, Jack had started to drift, when the clawed hand that had rested across his shoulder found his wrist instead and gingerly picked it up. Puzzled by the notion, he felt Pitchs humorless grin, as it was pressed to the inside of the joint, the man holding it there for a beat, before putting it down. Tenderly, he rubbed slow and thorough circles into the flesh of it.

‘’We are in this mess because of me.’’

Slowly, Jack felt his brow furrow. It was not the first time that Pitch had expressed such concerns, but the statement felt bigger somehow, the idea expanding over much more than just Jack himself and the rest of the wayward group of weary refugees all hunkering down beneath the very soil itself. The statement brought too much emotion all at once and again, that nagging feeling came back tenfold - the discarded thought steering itself forward, like an abandoned bird mindlessly crashing, hurling itself against the window in a desperate grab for his deteriorating attention.

‘’How?’’ Jack finally rasped out, as his curiosity, abyss be damned, caved in and roared its head for answers. ‘’How the fuck could we be in this because of you?’’

Something dark tugged at the corner of Pitchs grin, as Jack suppressed another yawn and craned his neck to look at him and really, the mans gesture did not quite succeed in schooling itself back into anything even remotely reassuring.

‘’Do you know when your former king died?’’

Confused, Jack blinked. ‘’I was young,’’ he said. ‘’like really young, but I know the story of it.’’

‘’So you are aware of how he died as well?’’ Pitch pressed, to which, gingerly, Jack nodded.

‘’I am,’’ he agreed. ‘’Or some of it at least. I don't know all of it.’’

Again, the quiet stretched on between them, the air feeling poignant, as finally, Pitch let out a slow sigh, before he set to explain his conversational direction. ‘’The king beyond your borders, the horror in the east, as you so described it, did march on your people.’’ Pitch said. ‘’He did breach your borders and he did successfully siege the lands around the capitals castle for a fourth month, before turning his attention to the castle itself.’’

Briefly, Jacks gaze caught on the flames of the hearth, a small shiver running down his spine, as he watched its flickering dance. ‘’And?’’ he pressed, as he averted his eyes from it and back up into Pitchs gold.

‘’Your king would not see reason.’’ Pitch continued, ‘’Too frightened to opt for even the merest of negotiations, he stayed within his carved rocks of gold and greed. Perhaps, I would say, he did so with sensible reason considering who was standing at his threshold.’’ The man offered, before pausing for a small breath. Still, Jack could not help but feel as if Pitch had been there. Had seen the terror and smelled the smoke and the filth and the decay in person. ‘’It cost him dearly however. All of his people suffered and thus, the first and most important thing that he lost was the trust of his people.’’

‘’Because they starved?’’ Jack guessed, to which Pitch let out what sounded like an unimpressed scoff in response.

‘’That as well, yes, but it was hardly what truly mattered in the face of what else was going on. A missing lump of bread on the daily, that one might survive, but the bite of an insistent blade?’’ He hummed lowly, ‘’That is quite the swift and direct defeat.’’

‘’So he... killed them? The other king I mean.’’ Jack added in and quietly, Pitch nodded.

‘’As it were, each day, a citizen was picked and a head thrown in the moat until finally, the crown gave up and opted for a peaceful surrender.’’ Pitch elaborated, ‘’The offer of such was, quite falsely I might add, granted by the horror in the east. The gates were opened in good faith by your kings guards and yet had the last of the eastern soldiers tread over the carved boards of the lowered bridge, before they charged and went about as they pleased. The castle was run through. The citizens slaughtered as a result.’’

At that, Jack finally grew hesitant. He had not heard that part of the tale, but considering that he had not really cared much for that particular point of history either, it was not much of a groundbreaking surprise. This was not information that was of any tangible use with the everyday chores that his father had given him around the small house that they had lived in. Deep in thought, Jack bit at his lip, as he mulled it over. ‘’What does this have to do with anything?’’

Above, Pitch’ smile was full of something that could have been melancholy, but yet seemed too sharp and cruel for it to quite fit the bill. ‘’What was the name of your former king, Jack?’’

Nervously, Jack licked his lips. ‘’Emmanuel,’’ he answered back.

‘’And how did he die?’’

Jack had not quite been clued in on the finer details of how it had come to pass, but the resulting end of the tale that Pitch had offered him was a fact that everyone knew of. Pitchs claws skimmed the side of his face, as Jack turned in his hold and truly, he felt more awake than he had in hours and greatly, he understood that somewhere along the way, he had missed something important, something vital about the whole ordeal that they were discussing.

‘’He was burned alive.’’ Jack finally offered back. ‘’Dragged out into the streets and tossed about in the flames for the better half of an hour.’’

Above, the gold narrowed, all sense of humor gone, as Pitchs grin stretched into a toothy sneer and in return, Jack tried not to feel, as if he was looking at a stranger. If anything, the attempt only made the abandoned bird peep in fright, as it fluttered its broken wings in the type of understanding that Jack still felt keen to deny.

‘’And who ordered the act?’’ Pitch pressed on a voice that sounded every bit as the acute order that it was, ‘’Who killed him?’’

Rapidly, Jack blinked, a sense of dread dawning, as the pieces of the new information slowly came together in his head and flashed the ludicrous results in his face. It was undeniable and yet, something about it did not quite hold up. The painted picture still held a significant dent in its design and desperately, Jack clung to it for all that he held dear. ‘’But the horror in the east doesn't sit on the throne.’’ He argued on a voice that sounded pitiful, even to his own ears. ‘’Jamie does. Right? Or at least, he's in control.’’

‘’Oh, he does indeed hold the crown.’’

‘’But then-‘’ Jack started, as he turned his head away a fraction, a great deal relieved, and yet wishing that he understood what the wicked gleam in Pitchs brilliant gold meant. ‘’Did Jamie kill him?’’ Jack breathed on a strained breath that burned all the way down, ‘’Did the earl kill the former king?’’

‘’Not quite.’’

Confused. That was what he was. That was what Pitch was. None of this made any sense to him. He did not want it to. ‘’But who, then?’’ Jack asked on a voice that did not quite hold through its bitter edges, as he bit at his lip and stared back into the wide, glowing gold of a stranger.

But he knew.

Of course he knew, and not even a beat later, the crushed bird let out a shrill, panicked whine, as the last part of the puzzle came together in a manner that he really did not want it to. As though sensing the dawning horror that Jack had finally wielded together from the obvious hints, which he had spread out like a string of soggy, poisoned breadcrumbs, Pitch confirmed as much with a ludicrous, tired smirk of his own,

‘’I did, Jack.’’

Chapter Text

‘’You-‘’ Jack rapidly blinked. ‘’You what?’’

Tyrant, plague, murderer - All titles he had heard whispered about the menace that could not be the very dethroned king in front of him.

‘’The Nightmare king?’’ Jack asked on a breathless whisper, as he stared and willed it not to be true. ‘’The lord of darkness?’’

‘’Not my given names, but yes, thus I have been called.’’

Jacks mouth opened and closed, a stuttering ‘Oh’ all that he could manage to breathe out. With some difficulty, he swallowed around the lump in his throat, Jacks eyes stinging, as he blinked and tried not to jolt under the careful touch to the wrist that the man still held. Above, the small smile morphed into something else, something sharp and accepting, and really, it all made Jacks head spin anew with a strange sense of panicked disbelief, as the blessed warmth of the others clawed hand left his person and curled around the headboard instead. It sounded like a dismissal as Pitch spoke, the tone too stern, too formal in the face of everything.

‘’You may leave.’’

‘’You may-‘’ Jack parroted on a confused, hurt voice, as he blinked, his breaths coming rapidly, ‘’You-’’

Jacks back tensing, was all the warning that Pitch got, before the former’s trembling fist smacked into the mans’ jaw, the other finding its mark as well, the snap of movement instinctual, as Jack made to draw his fist back and strike again. Right beside him, the quick blur of something dark and solid rapidly closed in, registering in Jacks peripheral vision, snaking around his wrist, yanking him backwards onto the bed at violent speed, before he found himself pinned, on his back, an indignant roar leaving him - tearing out of his throat, as he kicked and thrashed to get free.

‘’I was young,’’ Pitch started on a grit out growl, as the solid band of pressure on Jacks wrists increased ‘’Young, but experienced in the arts of invasion. I wanted the lands. I wanted to take the reins. And I did. I took them,’’ he hissed, ‘’I took them and I got all of Lunanoffs most precious hearts killed in the process.’’

‘’Liar’’ Jack spat back, a sense of grief rising within him, as his thrashing legs were pinned down by Pitchs strong shins. ‘’That is absurd,’’ he cried, as his whole frame was easily held in place. Madly, terrified by the whole turn of events, Jack strained against the dark binds, the hold that Pitch still kept of his wrists. Anything, really.

Above, the small huff that Pitch let out sounded unimpressed and deceivingly bored.

‘’Sophie is all that remains of Jamies true family.’’ Pitch continued, as though the change in topic held any semblance of sense to Jack. ‘’Should I die, then she, along with my own flesh and blood, are the last claims to the throne that have any real merit.’’

‘’You have none,’’ Jack spat, ‘’you never had any to begin with you fuckin-‘’

‘’Barely, it had been a year into Jamies reign when he dumped Pippa at my gates. A bastard. A frightened thing discarded that I wanted nothing more to do with than to feed to the ravenous wolves at the outskirts of my lands.’’ Pitch growled low on a voice filled with a barely contained anger, as idly, or perhaps from a lack of attention to the act, his claws cut into skin, as Jack tried to tug his wrists free. Immediately, they started to bleed. ‘’The wretched ties that binds and allows for the nonverbal communication is all on her, the effect born out of frustration, as a concussion kept her unable to speak for the better half of a month. She only became aware of what she had done once her speech had proven flawless and by then, it had extended to all that resided beneath my thumb.’’

Wishing himself to be anywhere than what the current situation entailed, Jack squeezed his eyes shut, as he tugged hard in a downwards motion, his wrists slick with blood, but really, he could as well have been trying to lift the entirety of an unyielding mountain off of him.

‘’I despised her,’’ Pitch hissed on a gruff, halting note ‘’I hated her. Hated what she represented. She was a tool. Jamie gave her to me as a dare. If Pippa died, then so would my own precious Sera.’’

Jack refused to look at him. ‘’You're cruel,’’ he grit out, as he kept his eyes locked to the dust of the ceiling ‘’a cruel, greedy thing.’’

‘’Back to cruel then.’’ Pitch rasped, as the pressure on Jacks wrists increased to the point that he felt the bones painfully grind against each other. ‘’How fitting indeed. And yet, I could have ordered you flogged for even daring to address me so rudely.’’ He sneered, the hum sounding dangerously close to a purr, as he leaned down and in turn, Jack turned his head away. ‘’Should I order such, Jack?’’ he spat. ‘’Should I hurt you? Should I put you in your rightful place so that you may well remember its position for what remains of our pitiful existence?’’

‘’Let me go.’’ Jack gruffed on a voice full of spite and grief and something that came dangerously close to hate, but which still did not quite manage to pack the punch.

Merely, Pitch laughed in return. ‘’Your confession,’’ the man growled, ‘’however much you may regret it now, would have cost you your life. Back then, before the fall, I would have had you killed for daring to utter such an outrageous claim. Either that, or kept you in my bed until whatever affection might have lingered in your heart would fade.’’

It got quiet as Jack bit the tip of his tongue to keep his own hurt in check. Stubbornly, he kept his eyes locked on anything but Pitch himself.

He should hate him for it. He should scream and howl and demand to be relieved, and yet, all that he could manage was to grind his teeth together, nails digging into his palms, as he curled his fingers tight.

He should hate him.

He should hate this wretched creature for all that he had done and yet, all that Jacks scrambling brain managed to drum up with in that very moment, was a flashing remark towards the deep sense of safety that still remained snugly tugged up tight within his chest.

Mentally, Jack grabbed hold of his depleting sanity, and arched his back off of the bed for all that he was worth, in one last feeble attempt to get the other to relent.

Barely, Pitch moved an inch.

‘’Let go. Godsdammit, let me go.’’ Jack rasped again, his breath burning, as he fought to regain some semblance of control over it. In vain, he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. ‘’Fucking hell Pitch, please,’’ Jack cried, as he tried to curl in on himself, the frustrated beat within rising, bringing a tide wave of grief and renewed disbelief with it, as Jack panicky struggled with all of the strength that he lacked. ‘’Please get off. Get off. Please just stop this.’’

The weight against him froze, as above, it did seem to have given the other pause.

’'Get off,’’ Jack tried on a voice hushed by frightened nerves - a sense of dawning clarity settling in the vacant drop between them, as one of the clawed hands pinning him in place twitched. ''Get off me.’’

It was quiet for one eternal beat.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught sight of the warm rays of a softly glowing, golden light, which left his wrists tingling in its wake.

’'Get off,’’ Jack wheezed out, breath lodged in his throat, ’'please get off of me,’'

Pitch drew a slowed, shaky inhale, too many emotions caught in that gesture alone and for a moment, if only for the hesitating touch of claws skimming the flesh of his abused skin in a fashion that seemed horrified, Jack remained in place, as the dark drew back and the weight eased off his form.

The moment lingered, the quiet tense and equally disturbed on either part, before the crushed bird minded its place - the frantic beating of wings fluttering about in his chest, crashing against the inside of his ribcage and urging tired muscle back into motion, the creak of the mattress loud, as Jack quietly, as stiffly as it was jarring, rolled off the bed.

With shaking hands, he plucked his shirt from over the back of a chair and a tad harshly, managed to jerk it on. Idly, his fingers left stains of crimson in their wake, as he fiddled with the sleeve.

‘’In regards to the-‘’

‘’I don't care, Pitch,’’ Jack wheezed out, his eyes closed, throat making a pained little click, as he swallowed thickly.

Again, it was quiet, before,

‘’I asked for you to let me finish my piece.’’

‘’And what, you haven't?’’

Beside him, the familiar fright flooded his senses, as Jack turned his head and stared at him and in response, the shivering bird in his chest quietly tugged its head close to its feathery own and rasped out a protesting plea for Jack to flee.

Let it lie.

Just go.

‘’Not quite.’’ Pitch answered. ‘’As it is, there is quite the addition of information to be had on the topic. All that has, and is still happening, is not as cut and dry as you make it out to be.’’

‘’Bullshit.’’ Jack rasped in an immediate retort. ‘’You didn't need to do what you've done. It wasn't necessary.’’

It was silent for a beat, Pitch looking pained but determined, as he breathed in deep and lowered his head ever so slightly. ‘’Each and every day, Jack, I have atoned for the misdeeds of my past.’’ He argued, to which Jack felt a tightness take to his jaw, voice raw, as he shook his head with a stiff little laugh of his own.

‘’No, you haven't.’’ He argued. ‘’Nothing could ever settle a score like that.’’

‘’It is-‘’

‘’No.’’ Jack roughed, his gaze hardening, as it turned into a glare. ‘’Just stop,’’ he lamented with an air of finality, as he stalked about to gather up his sparse belongings.

‘’Well then. If truly you see it as such,’’ Pitch started on a gruff tune that eased into a drawl, one brow raised, as he tilted his head with all the mock indifference of one not quite as comfortable in his own skin as he wished to appear ‘’has your curiosity been sated enough for you to finally let the questions lie?’’ He remarked and in return, Jack threw him an increasingly souring glare. Idly, with fingers that remained with a stubborn tremble, Jack went to retrieve his staff, back lightly bent, as he plucked it from its lying position along the far wall, before walking to the door - the act leaving a bright, red smear against the metal of the handle, as he opened it with all the faked apathy that he could muster.

Still - curse it, curse it all - he hesitated for a beat, mouth opened to spit his goodbye before-

Back tense, Jack turned and stared back at the mess that he had dug forth, his resolve already heavily crumbled enough as it was and really, while Pitchs entire posture remained deceivingly calm, if not for the clear shine in his golden glare, Jack would have left right then and there.

Regret, he solemnly realized, as his eyes flickered from Pitchs own and out over the stained claws of the hand curled tight around the bend of his own knee. That was nothing but regret and heartache beaming brightly at him, the conscience mourning palpable, dictating a sense of loss of a magnitude that neither quite seemed to phantom and-

Heh.

What a joke.

Slowly, softly in a way that broke something loose inside of him, Jack sighed, as his brain frantically scrambled to keep his angered disgust aflame. ‘’Have you actually boiled babies alive?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’But you've gotten them killed?’’

‘’Yes.’’ Pitch admitted without any shame to his firm tone. ‘’And had your village been closer to the castle walls, then perhaps you would have joined them in their doom.’’

Jacks grip tightened on the staff, the wood creaking softly in protest as it lit up, the muscles in his arm flexed, as he swung it out with all the indignant rage that he did not quite possess. It had been a weak attempt, he knew that, and in-between the space of the thought and the breath and the conscious decision made, the dark wrapped around his arm and held it at bay, held it from finishing the act, as Jack likewise felt it constrict across his chest. The dark forced his fingers to part, the shimmering white in his veins dying out with a soft, desperate hiss, as the cold wood clattered to the floor below.

A moment of quiet stilled, before Pitch continued,

‘’I did what was necessary,’’ the man clipped ‘’you may never be able to understand it, nor do I expect you to, but war was the only outcome that we could have faced considering the circumstances at hand.’’

With a head held high, spine straight, Jack met his gold head-on.

‘’Cruelty didn't have to be a part of that.’’ He argued, and in return, Pitchs grin was as devoid of humor as the rest of his demeanor remained.

‘’An enemy that strikes hard and clean and without mercy is not one that is to be taken lightly, Jack. Sometimes being feared is favorable as opposed to being taken for an easy picking.’’

Jaw tight, Jack shut his eyes as he likewise grit his teeth. ‘’What are you saying?’’

‘’That had I not decided to march for the capitals castle, then Emmanuel in return would have come for my lands instead. My actions were a reaction to his own threats of the terror that he wished to bestow onto me and mine.’’

On a huffed out chime of a laugh, Jack drew a shallow inhale, before shaking his head in spite. ‘’I don't believe that,’’ he breathed. ‘’It's not all death and war, Pitch. Emmanuel had no reason to threaten such a thing unless you were an actual threat.’’

The short huff that Pitch let out at that sounded far more tired than anything. ‘’You speak of things that you know nothing about,’’ he asserted. ‘’History is written by the winners, Jack. The winners dictate the details, while those who wish for it to be different speak ill facts.’’ In the quiet that followed, the dark lessened slightly, the hold easing enough to allow for Jack to lower his hand down by his side again. Still, it kept him in place. ‘’Regardless of your own beliefs as to what is and what is not, in the end, they do not change the reality of what has transpired. Whether you opt to see the truth of it or not, is up to you.’’

Incredibly irked by the prospect, Jack felt as if he were being spoken down to. Frustrated, he grinded his teeth, as he fought the instinct to sigh in exasperation. ‘’And what is the truth, then?’’

‘’That though this outcome was a bloody one, it strayed from the outright slaughter that it could have become.’’

‘’But you still attacked unprovoked.’’ Jack pointed out and to that, Pitch did let out a sigh of his own, clawed fingers rubbing at his temple, as he briefly bared his teeth. ‘’What?’’

‘’You are not listening.’’

‘’I am listening quite fine.’’

‘’Then how do you fail to see it for what it is?’’

Irked, Jack failed to keep his voice short of a shout. ‘’Well what is it then?’’ he yelled. ‘’What the fuck am I missing?’’

‘’That had I not reacted thusly, then my own would have suffered in turn.’’ Pitch clipped coldly. ‘’Had I not aimed for the castle, for the head of what controlled it, but for the lands around it instead, then thousands more would have died.’’

‘’People still did.’’ Jack stressed. ‘’Hundreds did still die.’’

‘’And so, they did indeed.’’ Pitch agreed. ‘’And so, the surrounding crown in the far north decided to ask for peace as opposed to the war that they had threatened,’’ he said, as the hand by his temple moved out to circle the air once for emphasis. ‘’As did the crown in the south. As did the one out of three in the west,’’ he lamented, as his head lowered, the gleam of brilliant gold narrowed. ‘’Hundreds died, Jack. Hundreds of innocents. Hundreds of young as well as old. Hundreds too many, I agree, but each and every one of those shortened stories has through their loss saved thousands in their stead.’’

At that, Jack felt his brow furrow. While he did not know enough to judge the truth to such a claim, in a perverse way, it held a semblance of sense.

‘’The stories of that time were grim, yes,’’ Pitch agreed on a drawl, as he continued. ‘’Exaggerated at best, but they still held a speck of truth to them and by such, it has bought us peace for the decades to come.’’

Contemplating the aspect, Jack worried the tip of his tongue over the back of his teeth. ‘’Where's the justice in that?’’ He gruffed, to which the small smile that Pitch wore grew sharp, but still, it held a tired tint to it.

‘’There is none.’’

Something heavy clawed and scratched just beneath his skin, Jacks fingers itching over the area with great zeal, as he huffed out a worn breath. As thus, lost in thought, it took a beat to realize that he could indeed again move as he pleased.

This was all too much. A tremendous task to face, the feat too big for his own weary person to grasp, as the yawning abyss beckoned him closer, daring him to take that last little step forwards,

‘’I dunno what to say.’’

‘’That is understandable.’’

Quietly, Jack hummed, his gaze dropping to the floor, eyes tracing the patterns of where the aerial roots of the grand flora had once cut through and ultimately destroyed the foundation below. In front, the mattress creaked softly, the linen moving, as Pitchs head rested back against the headboard of the bed. Then, ‘’Did you seriously carve out people’s eyes for looking at you?’’ Jack asked, and then internally breathed a sigh of relief when the other shook his head.

‘’No. Though at the time, I made no attempt to stop the rumors once they took root.’’

On a stiff shrug, Jacks nails dug into his upper arm. ‘’Why not?’’ He pressed and in front, a hint of teeth was visible, as Pitch flashed him a wicked grin.

‘’Fear is a useful tool, Jack. If your opponent is too frightened to hold his sword steady or even look at you, then it takes disturbingly little to send him running for the hills.’’

Biting his cheek, Jack eyed the carved swirls that framed the bed, gaze sliding, tracing out, as it slowly dug a hole into the fine wood of it. ‘’So it was to avoid conflict?’’

Am I seriously trying to justify this? He muttered lowly to himself and promptly, he realized that, yes. Yes he very much was.

‘’It was to avoid casualties on my end, yes.’’

Greatly, if only for a moment, the dark behind Jacks eyelids brought a sense of comfort with it. ‘’That's not what I asked.’’

‘’I know.’’

Again, it was quiet. Pitch did not try to offer any lies, any words of false comfort and highly, Jack was glad for it.

With fingers stiff and hesitant, he bent to pick up the fallen staff, the brilliant glare of gold narrowed and cold, as Jack squared his shoulders and stared right back in a pressing dare, the silence thick in the air, the standstill solemnly ticking on, as Pitch waited to see what he would do. Gingerly, Jack eyed the crack of the open door, the dust of the path just beyond it.

He should leave. He should just leave and let it be, but-

An unhappy little stab struck itself through his heart, the weight in his chest suffocating, snuffing him of his resolve, as he bumped his shoulder against the frame of the door and let out a small, slow sigh. On a voice thin and exhausted from the onslaught of emotion, he finally cracked,

‘’I should hate you for this.’’

Hope. Fuck, that was hope flashing through the brilliant gold before him, as Pitch, if only a fraction, tilted his head at him,

‘’And do you?’’

The small grin that stretched itself out did not entirely meet his eye, as it tugged at Jacks lip, the wood in his hand creaking from the wielders conflicted clutching, the rough texture of sand caught under his heel clinging slightly, as his fingers tightened around the staff.

He knew that no monarch could exist with a semblance of pure, perfect peace. There would always be sacrifices and heavy choices to be made, but knowing the details of it, understanding the deeds was somehow worse. Or hypocritical. He was not entirely sure. ‘’You know,’’ Jack started, as several colours and opinions of the urgent, disputing views started to loudly quarrel and bicker amongst themselves in his head, ‘’I understand not wanting to piss on the furniture while it was still in your house, but that hardly justifies burning down the entire square in the aftermath.’’

Perplexed, Pitch raised a brow in return. ‘’Pardon?’’

Dazed, Jack shook his head from the absurdity of it all. ‘’Say that we win,’’ he said instead of answering, as he stiffly shrugged the shoulder not currently propped up against the doorframe, ‘’say you take the crown and get all that comes with it. What’s to stop you from being worse than the fucker that had it before?’’ Promptly, Jack raised a hand to halt the retort, as Pitch made to answer. ‘’There are things that will need to be done for the greater good. Horrendous events to be carried out in the name of running an entire country, I know, that’s not what I’m getting at.’’

A tad confused himself, Jack drew a shaky inhale, his knuckles whitened where they clutched the staff, before he patched the hole in his punctured courage and pressed on with his dire reflections. ‘’I’m not daft, Pitch. I know things that have been less than agreeable has had to be done in order to preserve peace. My point is that I get it. I do get it, but messing with the people closest to you, the ones that actually care-‘’ he bit his lip hard, eyes momentarily lost on the carvings beside the mans head instead, before they found and locked with the radiant gold again. ‘’Fucking people over as soon as you’re done with them is a pretty shitty way to go about things. It’s mean.’’ Jack grumbled, the last part sporting a particularly sour note, the small patch of pure cold spreading in his wake, as the butt of his staff stabbed into the dust of the ruined floorboards. ‘’It’s cruel. It’s unjust.’’

Ahead, the brilliant glare of molten gold narrowed, as Pitch further tilted his head at him, ‘’As things stand-‘’

‘’I’m still loyal you know.’’ Jack interrupted, his shrug a tad shakenly, as he met the others stare head-on with one just as intense. ‘’It’s gonna take a lot more than this to rattle it up, aight? Just-…’’ he briefly trailed off, as he shook his head again, ‘’Just don’t treat me like second hand filth to discard as soon as you’ve had your fun.’’

Blessedly, Pitch stayed quiet for a beat,

‘’That had not been my intention.’’

Again, Jack shrugged, his head making a hollow thunk, as it came to rest against the frame of the door as well. Merely, he stared at the other for a long beat. ‘’Thank you for that. Truly. Even if you don’t mean it, I appreciate it.’’ Jack said, as his grin morphed into something genuine for a split beat. ‘’But your words are so fucking contradictory at times, you know? Just-… Do you say what you mean? Do you even know what you mean when you say it? Like, yes Jack, I could have you flogged for being a little shit, and yes yes I could hurt you and whatever the fuck else you spit at me when you’re scared-‘’ he roughed on a tone that scratched and tore at his throat, the blunt of his nail scraping at the dry bark under his touch, as Jack held up his hand in a gesture that was clearly as dismissive as it was irked ‘’I’ve let you talk,’’ he pressed, as Pitchs lip harshly twitched to an abrupt and tensing halt around the words that he had wanted to offer. ‘’Would you mind returning the favor for a bit?’’ Jack grumped and then waited through the long-felt beat of clear discomfort, the mans’ clear need to soothe the edges of that uttering, before finally, it passed and Jack got a strained sigh and a nod fraught with rigid tension in return.

In appreciation, or at least something that seemed to hold the same flavor and tone, he watched, as Pitchs hand moved, the claws digging into wood, holding onto the headboard in a fashion hard enough, that Jack thought it might break from strain.

‘’The others are scared. You’ve said so yourself. I know it. You know it, and with all due respect, I’m pretty fucking sure they’re aware of it too.’’ Absently, Jack watched the tiny little flake drift towards the floor, as he broke a piece of the staffs bark off of it. ‘’And you are as well. Don’t even try to deny that.’’ Bit by bit, his smile grew vacant of any humor, any semblance of joy, ‘’I’ll never agree with your way of things,’’ Jack started, ‘’the structures of your foundation that is. The way they work. The ways in which they allow you to crush anyone that dare say otherwise or speak up against them. I despise it. I think it’s deplorable.’’ With a jerky twitch to his move, Jack leaned away from the frame of the still open door, before making his way over to the foot of the bed. Distracted by the topic and thus not overly caring for the mess that he was creating, he watched frost curl in patterns across the delicate woodwork, as he rested a finger to it.

To his delight, it took no effort at all to let it curl out over the board at the foot of the bed and into the crevices of the carvings themselves.

With a hint of an idea forming in his head, Jack pushed, pushed at the gelid flow, until a rich and thick layer of ice followed in its wake, the frame groaning softly, vibrating under his settling palm, as he painted its bend in a bluish tint. ‘’Despite that,’’ Jack hummed, as he tabbed at the ice until it cracked and splintered, ‘’despite that, I still know my place in all of this. You understand that, right?’’ he pressed and then continued, before Pitch could get the chance to voice an input, ‘’Despite my attitude, I do understand my position and that it won’t be elevated from being a pastime entertainment.’’ In an urgent retort, Jacks hand tightened its hold of his source, as Pitchs clawed own shot away from the banister,

‘’Jack, please listen, I-‘’

A tiny little spark, nothing more than a tic in the flow really, and Jack let the ice crack the wood from the inside out, the whole thing coming apart at the seams, splinters breaking off in great chunks, before falling to the floor with a resulting crash.

‘’I have nothing to my name,’’ he continued, before Pitch could recover from the resulting, startled jolt that it had caused him. ‘’I know that. Even if you do somehow manage to free us, nothing will change. I’ll still be worth as much as the sheep that my father used to sell in the market.’’ Promptly, Jack let the temperature in the room plummet in warning, as Pitch tried to pass a comment. ‘’Don’t deny that Pitch, you haven’t lied to me before,’’ Jack snapped, ‘’don’t start now.’’ Tightly, he grit his teeth in the brief quiet that ensued. ‘’Whatever happens from here on out, I won’t oppose you. I won’t. I don’t have the heart for it but just-‘’ he huffed, shoulders shrugging for what felt like the tenth time in just as many minutes ‘’just don’t butcher us all if you decide to go on a murderous rampage or something equally as shitty.’’

In front, the molten brilliance of gold fell closed, the breath that his holder drew heavy and really, Jack could not quite discern what emotion was on his face, as the glare that Pitch wore once more opened and stared back. Idly, he figured that it was probably a bit of all of them. ‘’Do you seriously believe that I would?’’

‘’I dunno,’’ this time, it was Jacks turn to tilt his head in challenge ‘’would you?’’

It was silent for a beat, before Pitch seemed to deflate from obvious dismay, his tone strained and tired, as he raked a clawed hand over his hair and shook his head in a debilitated fashion ‘’Of course not.’’

In return, Jacks tongue worried over the inside of teeth. Highly, he found himself as lost for words as Pitch appeared to be as well, his eye falling on the ragged edges of the shards that had come to rest against the sheets of the bed, the crushed bird squawking its protests, as he weighed his options.

Finally, a decision settled and without much additional thought for the act, Jack rested his source against what remained of the bed, the wood still well within reach, before he sat himself down amongst the ruin that he had wrought.

The quiet lingered. Of course it would, and while Jack was well aware that the others brilliant gold was searching for his lowered own, he could not quite muster up the courage to face it. Idly, a toe worried at the inside of his naked ankle, Jacks vacant stare dazed, as he leaned back, one foot still on the ground, the other tucked under him, as he rested his palm around the ragged shards of ice and cold, ruined wood.

‘’Jack, I-‘’

‘’Do you mind if I tell you a bit of a story of my own?’’ Jack interrupted on a voice that did not sound entirely committed for any further chatter of the rougher character. ‘’Or, it’s more of a memory actually. It’s an old one though. An old one that came to mind after one of our first chats back when I’d been sick,’’ fully aware of it, Jack made no comment, as he felt the smooth touch of a dark nothing press against the back of his hand, the tendrils searching, gliding slow, as they slipped in between the spaces of his lightly curled fingers.

Boldly, he felt it tighten, as Jack made no move to remove his hand from its presence. In front, Pitch quietly regarded him, the gold attentive, before the man nodded once.

‘’Do you-‘’ Jack started on a grumble of a voice, as idly, he worried the fingers of his free hand about in the fuzzy strands of the blanket beside, his heavy intake of breath burning, before he managed to push on through the strangling onslaught of emotions that he knew this specific topic would bring.

Still, with all that had transpired, and with all that was to come, he reckoned, the possibility laying ahead would likely show that this was the last chance that he would get to discuss it. ‘’Do you know of the storm we had a good… I dunno, years back?’’ he pressed. ‘’The one that tore up the fields and messed up the golden river?’’

At that, Pitch seemed to give pause for a beat, as he thought it over. ‘’The one that halted the transport of timber, fabric and limes?’’ The man offered and on a huff, Jack flicked at a loose strand in the blanket, before drawing it over his knees.

‘’It halted a whole fucking more than just that, but yeah, that one,’’ he agreed, before once more falling quiet. Jack could still very well remember the time that had followed. The times in which the taxes had been ramped up to the point of starvation. ‘’The crown took everything from us after it had calmed down. The harvest had failed that same year and still, they took it all. All, Pitch. Bread, butter, sheep, cattle- everything that we had, they took it,’’ irked, Jacks other leg joined the first, his free hand lightly resting across his bended knee, as he turned ever so slightly. ‘’We had nothing left. Nothing left that would get us through the winter anyway, and what little coin my dad had managed to hide under his tongue cost him two fingers on his left hand, when someone snitched to a guard about it.’’ Jack said, as he shook his head at the unpleasant memory. His father had taken it in stride though, the pain from the knife that had cut barely registering in the deep-seated wrinkles between his brows. ‘’I still don’t get why, but the prices in the market went up after that. No one had any cash anyway and what they did have left, they didn’t seem too keen to part with. Everyone had to fend for themselves. It was an absolute nightmare.’’

Again, it fell quiet for a bit, the paranoid bird in his chest fluttering its wings in protest over the fact that he was still staying close to what it considered a threat. And indeed, he realized, there was a very real chance that Pitch would have acted the same towards his own when the storm blew through. The lands to the east may not have been as heavily hit, but still, none were spared its massive wrath.

‘’We cooked up the family dog one night when everything had truly gone to shit. Poor Emma had been too young to understand what was going on, but she cried for hours afterwards. Nothing could calm her down but eventually, she just… got too tired to care I guess. Too tired to cry,’’ letting his arm bend until he was lying back, still propped up on his elbow as he were, Jack drew a heavy breath, as he fisted his hand in the sheets. ‘’Regardless, it kept us fed for a little while, but it still seemed hopeless anyway,’’ idly the tip of his tongue darted out to wet at his lips, Jacks gaze far away for a beat, lost in the memory of a time long past, before he continued. ‘’In truth though, we never had a chance of making it through the winter with what meager rations we’d managed to…’’ he trailed off, as he looked for the right word for what truly had just outright been plain theft. ‘’Salvage from a burned home not too far off from the edge of the village,’’ he finally settled on a stiff, noncommittal shrug. ‘’Legit though, mother had been sure of it being our doom and for her,’’ he added on another little shrug ‘’ah-… Well. Let’s just say that she was right about her own fate on that account?’’

Politely, Pitch bowed his head in the heavy, consoling manner that he had done so many times back at the mansion. ‘’I am truly sorry to hear of such,’’ he said in a tone so sincere and practiced that it made Jacks stomach ache with unease. Disturbed, he huffed a little, before waving him off.

‘’Fuck, please don’t, there’s no need for that,’’ Jack grinned, as a humorless notion took to his features. ‘’Really, it would have happened some way or another and her death wasn’t as cruel as some of the others around us ended up being. I’m glad she was spared any actual ridicule. It could have been worse,’’ he insisted. ‘’A whole lot worse so just…’’ he trailed off, a heavy sigh spilling from the light frown painting his lip, Jack quiet for a beat, as he thought it over. ‘’In truth, we never had a chance Pitch. We never had any and now, I suppose that might have been the point.’’

In front and slightly beside, the brilliant gold narrowed a fraction, as Jack glanced at the other. ‘’You said my family had debt? That’s why I’m here, right?’’ Jack pressed. ‘’I believe you. I didn’t in the beginning. It seemed ridiculous but I think I get it now. I get it. I get where all that shit came from. Why it happened. Why it came to be. Why I’m here.’’

With little hesitation, Jack held the others gaze, as he steeled himself. ‘’In the end, we did make it through. We made it through, when so many others didn’t. We made it through that fucking winter and it’s nothing short of a miracle,’’ he stated.

And it had been. Their little home had been so cold and lonely as their father had brought back meat, breads, and cheap beer and that night, that one fateful night, the solemn trio had all gone to bed reluctantly happy and fed.

For a little while, times had been grand. It had been good.

‘’They took our grain, they took our coin and now, they took both Emma and I as compensation for the loan that saved our lives.’’ Jack finished his little tale on a gruffed voice that hitched on something bitter midway through, his chest feeling disturbingly light, as he rested a hand to his side. Almost as if on instinct, he held it up when Pitch tried to weigh in again. ‘’Please don’t,’’ he said softly ‘’just don’t. You don’t need to comment on it. On any of it really.’’

Pitch was quiet for a beat, ‘’And if I want to?’’ the man pressed and in return, Jack let out a slowed and tedious sigh.

‘’You gonna do it anyway if I plead you not to?’’ He asked, to which Pitchs mouth drew tight, a frustrated but nevertheless accepting tic taking to the crease in his brow, as the man leaned back against the ruined headboard again.

‘’No.’’

Idly, Jack worried the inside of his cheek between his lips. ‘’Aight,’’ he hummed, his fingers restlessly playing in the strands of the sheets for a beat, before they reached out and clutched around his source. A tad curious, Jacks eye found the brilliant glare of gold and bore into it with all the passion of one that had none. ‘’Say I asked, what would you comment on though?’’ He pressed and in return, Pitch drew a slow, grateful inhale, chest tense and expanded, as he lowered his head,

‘’Firstly, that I believe the system had indeed intended for free coin and labor by driving you to the point of desperation, and, in its midst, additionally, serving as the only provision for a remedy as well.’’

Softly, Jack smiled at him, though it hardly reached his eye, a heavy ache stabbing at his chest, as he offered his own hurt in return to what had essentially been nothing but an attempt at reconciliation from the other. ‘’I didn’t ask,’’

And by the gods, the jab hit the mark proper and well.

The crushed bird almost seemed proud.

Still, in front, Pitchs face stayed perfectly in place, no sense of emotion slipping in reaction, unless one specifically knew what to look for. The man’s gaze unnervingly remained unblinking, the gold burning to add an additional leaf to the worded, denied olive branch, and, a tad drunk on the power that it had left him with, Jack refused to offer him the chance. ‘’Did you have anything else you wanted to add to your own piece?’’ he asked instead and after a beat of excruciating chagrin on the mans part, Pitch shook his head.

‘’Nothing that matters in the face of this.’’

Funny, Jack mused, as he absently scratched at the drying blood on the wrist still trapped by the dark curl of nothing - he felt as though he was entirely missing a deep-felt point in the middle of that short sentence.

Or, perhaps, just refusing to accept its genuine state of being.

It was probably a bit of both, really.

In front, Pitchs gold tore itself from the crimson that Jack was tracing, his gaze vacant of hope, as he quietly hummed a short tune,

‘’You may stay the night if you wish,’’ the man offered. ‘’I will leave you the bed for the couch if you wish it for yourself.’’

On a slightly humored smirk, Jack flicked a ragged piece of wood away from the space right beside his bended knee, before looking to the equally ruined by flora and the simple mark of time couch. ‘’I don’t want it.’’

Once, Pitch nodded curtly, the muscles of his neck seeming taut, the reluctant acceptance clear in the slight downturn of his lip, ‘’Very well.’’ The man rasped and promptly, Jack grabbed his source close, before rolling off the bed. Barely, he had made it to the door, when Pitchs voice called out to him on a tune both disbelieving and yet full of acknowledgement for his own downfall,

‘’Jack-‘’

The hushed hints of shame in the others tone gave him enough pause to stop and turn his head a fraction. It was quiet for a beat. Then, ‘’I have spoken unjustly. I-‘’ Jack heard him bite back a curse and was glad for it. Glad for the strain that the other was clearly under, as the man struggled to press the words forwards through his own, halting pride and position ‘’I have not meant for cruelty, but I have bestowed it nonetheless. It had not been the intention in the face of my own-’’ slightly relieved, but still not completely willing to trust any truth from the easy turn in pace, Pitchs shoulders slumped, a hint of defeat visible in his gold, and finally, Jack turned fully. ‘’I apologize.’’

‘’As you fucking should.’’

For a beat, neither spoke, before Pitch tilted his head a fraction, a single claw ticking to the side of his face, as he hummed a bitter, tired tune,

‘’I will offer you my cheek if you wish to slap it.’’

Slightly taking aback and yet still amused by the idea of it, Jack huffed an equally tired little laugh that did not quite hold any mirth around its delayed edges. Idly, he shook his head, fingers still playing with what they could reach of the dark that had stubbornly crawled up and around the red of his abused wrist. ‘’No,’’ he laughed. ‘’I don’t need to hurt you in return.’’

In front, the brilliant gold closed tightly for a beat, before it opened up with a fully frustrated gleam twinkling in its non-worded plea. ‘’That is not what I meant,’’ he said and in return, Jack merely shrugged a stiff, noncommittal shoulder.

‘’I know,’’ Jack said, as he finally turned for the door and fled through it, before he could talk himself out of it – the simple words thrown over said shoulder carefree, far lighter in tune and volume than he really felt they ought to be, ‘’Goodnight Pitch.’’

--

A mess.

A fine mess. That was what this entire thing had turned out to be-

The dust from his kicking feet was heavy on his senses, clouding to his fractured resolve, as Jack stormed his anger out through his travelling feet, the orientation slightly lost, but still somewhat aimed at the general direction of the east wing.

The nightmare king.

The fucking lord of darkness himself.

A joke. What a fuckin joke-

Idly, the tips of Jacks fingers drummed to the bark of his staff, as he thought the events of the last past hours over.

Had any of it been real? He mused, as he let the butt of the staff commence a crude trail of frost and cold and finely carved ice in his wake. All of the quiet moments, the blissful ones as well as the disdain and frustration and misunderstandings that he had spent with the other. It had been real, had it not? The joined sense of comfort had been real. It had been real.

Groaning to himself, Jack upped the pace as his irked shoulders rose from the conflicted beat of pure want that slammed through him at the wave of memories that resurfaced at that specific train of thought.

Yeah. Yeah it fucking had been and he had wanted it. His own justifications of how entitled it made him feel be damned, he still wanted this, whatever it was that had taken hold, sprouted and thrived between them. It was not perfect. Not by a longshot and in the end, nothing could truly come of it, nothing would root, would grow and reach well into the future, he knew that, but the hope for it, the want for it-

With a sharp intake of breath, Jack fisted a hand in his own hair, fingers tugging lightly on the white of his strands, a flash of pearly teeth visible, as he sneered and-

A mess. A fine mess of proportions that he did not quite yet grasp the finer edges of, that was what it was and-

By the gods, he had seriously upped and spilled the fears of his own inutile existence and general uselessness like a drunken scholar in the throngs of heated, maddened love, had he not?

Yep. Yep he had.

And Pitch had corrected him on every turn, when the mans own fears were not wagging his tongue for him.

Behind, the groaning strain of ice broke through the foundation of the soil itself, the pebble spreading out thick, yielding, as Jack pressed on through the spiraling curve of the tunnel.

He had said too much and yet, not enough. Not nearly enough and it could not be, it could never be, but he wanted it so badly, wanted it to hold, to last beyond the imbalanced power, and the heartache, the pain, the crushing insecurities and the fact that he was in love with a ruthless, coldblooded murderer.

In love.

Fuck, he really was in love, was he not-

Ahead, something flickered to life, a subtle tremor going through the earth, as a tendril of light shot up and out onto the sloping wall of the tunnel itself and in response, perplexed, the train of thought that had haunted his mind faded out on its own, an urgent sense of foreboding registering, as finally, it all but stopped completely with a quieting hush.

And there, it was again. The tremor that they had all felt for days tenfold, making the closure of rock and soil and dirt around him vibrate from whatever force, which rocked it from within. Thrice, fourth- a sixth tremor shot through the earth and absently, on their own, his cold feet lost their forwards stride, before he all but bodily stopped all movement as well.

Something was off.

Rapidly, Jack blinked, the dust beneath his heels settling, his brow lightly furrowed, as a whispering sense of unease started to lightly tingle for attention - the press of it insistent, dominating in its wake, as it pushed all thought of ludicrous love and the possibility for anything tangible between he and the unforgivable, dethroned king out of his mind.

The tunnel ahead lightly curved, no true, visible signs of anything out of the ordinary showing themselves, and yet, in his gut, the sting of something urgent once more sparked. Like a little stone in his chest, growing bigger, heavier, the edges becoming ragged enough to cut and tear with each beat of his frantic, hastened heart.

He knew that something was horribly wrong, even before he smelled the faint scent of sulfur and something dry and wooden drifting on the air.

Cinnamon, Jack realized. There was a hint of cinnamon and cedar in amongst the multiple of scents as well.

He took a few hesitant steps forwards, the scent of smoke growing in strength, the source of it not yet certain, but it had to be- it had to be,

Soon, Jacks travelling feet started carrying him faster over the grounds, a great tension settling to the bend of his shoulders, urging him to press harder, as he progressed forwards at an increasingly rapid pace.

Fuck.

What the actual-

With eyes that stung, the greying smoke heavy in the air and clogging his nostrils to the point of it making him lightheaded, Jack choked his way forwards, his sleeve dragged down over his hand, fingers clutching the fabric in place, before he smacked it to the lower half of his grimacing face. Quickly, without much thought for the act, he understood that whatever the fuck this was, was indeed every bit as bad as it appeared.

Ahead, just visible behind the bend of the tunnels curve, the first lick of a live flame showed itself – the glow of it blinding, pure white and orange in its hues and, with his breath baited and choked in his chest, Jack squinted his eyes against the glare, as an impossible idea started to link together in his mind.

Indeed, the design of such a position was ludicrous, but-

Something moved within the flames, the curling, twisting shape forcing itself along the rough dirt of the tunnels floor and in return, terrified, a shiver ran down Jacks spine, as he started to sense a form in amongst the writhing flame of the untamed inferno. Petrified, with a mind numbed from the wickedness of its grandeur, he stared in horror, as the hissing thing of flame and warmth and peril raised its head high and loomed over him.

Gods,

Legs shaking, frozen in trepidation with his eyes wide and blurring, Jack jolted in fright with a great sense of urgency, as it opened its wicked mouth, the flickering fangs of a snake raised high for the kill, the light in its maw of a center blinding, the smoke thick and suffocating, as it descended on him with all the crushing strength of a collapsing mountain.

Tightening, terrified, the dark nothing around his abused wrist tugged for him to move-

The heat was unbearable and Jack had half a mind to back away from his impending doom, a single thought flashing through his skull, drowning all else out, as he reached out to all that might hear, in the hopes of buying them enough time to get up, get up, get out, flee-

Jack

With trembling fingers that shook from resolve and desperation, Jack tightened his hand around his source, the wood of it glowing bright, aiding him in his despair, as he raised his arms high to shield his face from the blast that he knew would come.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck-

The fire smacked against his own desperate defenses, the suffocating heat of it stealing what little air that he had left in his lungs, making his muscles ache from the loss and quickly, he found, as the gelid force of his own depleted ice and wind and shrieking panic collided with the coloured chaos of warmth and torment and whipping sparks of blistering heat, it barely did anything to drive the scorching form of the fiery abomination back.

Run, you fool!

Grandly, with the magnificent shatter of a booming wave of blazing pressure nearly knocking him off of his feet, the burning behemoth before him roared its fury out in heaps of smoke and pure, white-hot flame - the beast hot in pursuit, as Jack finally turned tail and ran.

Chapter Text

With a racing heart drumming a quick tattoo in his throat, Jacks moving feet kicked up the dirt behind, as he struggled forwards at a mad dash to get forwards, get ahead, get away- out into the connecting tunnel opening up just beside, the direction running at a blind random.

A rabbit,

A panicked rabbit trapped in its own hideout with the pursuing fox close on its tail-

A shout of surprise ripped itself from his throat, the soles of his feet threatening to slip on the dusty path, whole body halted by a nasty tug, as the dark nothing around his wrist tightened and roughly jerked him to the side. Painfully, his shoulder collided with pebble, the smell of singed earth clogging this up close, the soil digging into his hair, scraping with cheek, as heat snapped through the space just beside his cowering form.

It was close,

Too close-

He was on the run in an instant, feet swift on the scorching dirt of the path, one hand smacked to his throbbing arm, the wicked smell of burned flesh shoved out of his minds eye, as another burst of flame licked and curled along his back, cutting the air around him thin,

Further- take the one on your left!

With nerves screaming as loud as he was, focus honed by stabs of whitened adrenaline, the tension in his legs taut, Jack vaulted himself through another mouth of one of the more frequented tunnels.

Nails dug into the flesh of his arm, his fingers tightened around the wood of the staff, as a flash of something else showed itself in amongst the bright reds, purples and whites sparking about his fleeing form.

Lights.

There were tiny pinpoints of moving lights caught in the flame, each of them screaming, howling as one, as they snapped about his feet, nipping at his ankles in an attempt to trip, to halt-

With lungs constricted from fright, Jack more heard than saw the reverberating power of the hissing roar that the flaming serpent let out, the glare of the coloured inferno flickering once, twice - a stab of instinct guiding the moment, as he dared to look back just long enough to see the massive head of it violently smack into the side of the sloping wall. A cascade of blinding blues, greens and shrieking yellow burst out, the whole of the coiling form engulfed in the colours of the bright morning sky, as a solid, contrasting black forced it back, to relent.

Jack snapped his own head back, just as dark obscured his vision, the wave crashing against his panicked frame, the blessed dark a whispering relief, cooling his burns, flickering through the signed strands of his hair - the shade briefly halting his forwarded progression from the sheer force of it all, sending him staggering, before it collided with the blazing inferno behind.

Gold-

The release propelled him forwards, feet skidding on the rough path, as the wave passed him by and left Jack stumbling for a few, precious beats,

Familiar, blessed gold glowing bright in amongst a sea of sweeping dark-

A hand caught and shoved him behind, the prick of claws cutting singed skin, as Pitch hastened forwards in quick, secure strides - the wicked sheen of black metal firm in the mans grip, the edge sharp and heavy, promising doom, as the colourful amalgamation of insatiable hunger coiled in the writhing form of the snake, rose itself up, up up up and out of the shimmering wall.

A mess,

A vivid mess of colours and bright, blinding lights making his head spin-

‘’Go!’’ Pitch, a black, unyielding shadow against the bright colourful flames, shouted – the muscles of the mans back strained, as he swung the scythe in a wide arch to keep the flaming terror at bay. The metal cut through the blaze like it was nothing, forcing the suffocating roar of the inferno to part, to divide, before the vivid sparks disintegrated into nothing on either side of where the metal touched.

‘’No!’’ Jack shouted back with all his might, his shoulders stubbornly squared, feet stemming against the hard soil of the ground, as the powerful blast of heat and malice that came, slammed into his chest and threatened to knock him clean off of it. ‘’No- Fuck no Pitch, not like this- never!’’ he coughed, as the dark forced the shimmering plume of smoke back, Jacks airways protesting the invasive sting of it regardless, as he drew a shallow breath into hurting lungs and willed the flow to spark, to ignite into a counter harsh and biting enough to challenge that of the raging fire before them. ‘’I am not-‘’ he hissed out between clenched teeth, arm burning, skin drawing taut from its blistered state, as he, spine taut with tension, offered up his ice to the fray of sweeping dark and shadow, ‘’I am not leaving you behind!’’

Beside him, the dark metal moved in a blur too fast for Jacks stinging eyes to keep up with, Pitchs teeth flashed in a sneer, as the man snapped his head towards him at a pace fast enough that Jack feared that the other might have torn something in his neck.

‘’Fine,’’ Pitch spat with his arms stretched out towards the hissing flame, his gleaming brilliance of gold wide and enraged, as he roared back with all the might and fury of a scorned, vengeful king ‘’So be it!’’

The dark fused with ice, the mans fingers flexed, claws digging into the handle of the scythe, Pitchs moving eyes wide and calculating, as they conveyed the strength of the swaying barricade, the extent of the damage already done.

Judging from his expression, it was hardly durable.

‘’Blasted,’’ Pitch gruffed as much under his breath, the subtle tickling sensation up Jacks spine all the warning that he got, before the dark coil squeezed his wrist in urgency, tugging him in the other direction, backwards, the fallback conducted step by step, in a deliberate, retrieving dance.

‘’Steady now, Jack, steady it and keep at the ready-’’

Narrowed, the gold stayed locked to the wall of crude ice and pure black in front, the whole thing crumbling, thawing quick, as the burning flickers of small, colourful points wormed their way through and sparked their vivid heat amongst a sharpened spray of ice and faltering cold.

Once, twice, Pitchs claws twitched, jerking out in familiar movements, making the dark dance, as the man gathered it at his feet.

‘’Steady,‘’

As Pitch brought the scythe out and at the ready, Jack likewise moved the wood of his staff, his burned arm screaming, nerves tight from the protesting strain-

Now!

The hallway exploded in a sea of black and white and blue, the combating onslaught a stark contrast against the blinding flames and still, it was not enough, the retreat still very much in motion, as the dark nothing kept urging him back.

‘’Again,’’ Pitch roughed beside Jack, the determined tone laced with resolve ‘’Seven hells, again!’’

A movement of green and light grey visible just out of the corner of his eye, served as a distraction long enough, for Jacks ice to flicker and slip, but, just as well, in its place, pressed forwards through equaled vigor, pure, hard soil joined in on the fray – the earth itself mingling with the dark, strengthening the barricade, where the cold had faltered.

‘’Evening boys,’’ Bunnymund shouted loudly enough to be heard over the rumbling of moving dirt and pebble ‘’Push back. Get it to the drop!’’

‘’Will it crush it?’’ Pitch grit back, and behind, Jack had to jerk himself to the side, as the slightly disoriented dark semi-solid of a wave snapped past his ankle and slammed itself against the pulsating wall of living material. Head spinning, Jack allowed himself a beat to smack his free palm over his throbbing arm, stinging eyes widened, as they focused back on the wall of soil and dark and, as he quickly realized with a sobering shudder, dripping liquid. Roughly, he jerked forwards again, shoulders remaining squared despite their burden of a light tremor, as he did his best to breathe through the insistent pain racing through him.

‘’No,’’ Bunnymund roughed back, as Jack added layers upon layers of cold to the cracking edges of the barricade, ‘’but it will slow it.’’

Beneath, the ground shook, as they drove it back for what felt only a fraction of the distance needed and loudly, with a twitching sneer of flashing teeth and crushing anger, Pitch voiced as much,

‘’That is an awful stretch to cover Aster.’’

An unimpressed huff sounded, Bunnymunds glare hardening in challenge, his braids flicked back into their rightful position, before he stomped his foot once on the ground in what seemed a tantrum and-

Abruptly, Pitchs arm caught around Jacks middle, the side of the latter’s head smacking into the others chest, as the man hauled him up against the wall beside and twisted to cover Jacks form with as much of his own as he possibly could. A beat later, claws skimmed his hairline, Jack feeling the cold metal of the scythe mindlessly bonk against the side of his shoulder, as Pitch tightened the hold and pressed him closer still. ‘’Holy fuck,’’ Jack rasped out on a pained grimace, the dirt and dust and pebble flying about at a wild abandon, as the very ground beside them cracked, the soil upturned, collapsing in on itself, writhing in obedience to whatever command ordered them, as it raised itself up and stood at a reverberating ready.

‘’Stretch to cover, my ass-’’ with a grit out roar tearing from a reddened throat, Bunnymund curled his painted fingers in, knuckles white and ready, shoulders taut, before he smacked his fist straight into the thick of it and sent the fire roaring back in a choking wave of rock, sand and hardened soil.

‘’Ah,’’ panting hard from obvious strain, the good doctor coughed slightly from the amount of fresh dust lingering in the air, his lightly bleeding hand waved in front of his face in an attempt to clear the worst of it, as he slowly started to stagger backwards - away from the muffled shrieks and flame and malice caught behind the blocking mass of greens and blacks. ‘’Aight, you right, it’s not enough. Run. Run off,’’ he grit out ‘’Just go, it won't hold it for long.’’

‘’The others?’’ Pitch urged, as his hand clamped down around the upper parts of Jacks uninjured arm hard, to which Bunnymund sternly shook his head.

‘’Already gone.’’ The good doctor urged. ‘’We’re the ones left.’’

‘’Dead?’’ Pitch, who had already started to tug Jack along in the other direction, pressed.

‘’Fled.’’ Bunnymund reassured, the mans chest heaving, as he too started backing up faster, before turning fully ‘’Go,’’ he urged again and really, neither of the remaining had to be told twice.

They all sprinted, all sense of grace abandoned, as the ground beneath shook and cracked, as something burrowed its way through.

‘’Blasted-‘’ Pitch rasped, the man’s breath lightly strained, his hold of Jacks arm abandoned in favor of placing his index and thumb between his lips, before he bit down gently and somehow managed to whistle a shrill tune amidst the mad, fleeing dash.

‘’Go to the forest,’’ Bunnymund implored on an urged note, as a light array of dirt and pebble rained about their shoulders. ‘’Fastest way is through the lake itself.’’ Sharply, Pitch grabbed hold of Jacks arm again and spun to the left, down another path, as the ground beneath where their feet had barely touched to gave way and flickered to life with a blinding, crackling roar,

‘’He-‘’

‘’Aster will be fine-’’ Pitch interrupted Jack on a grit out growl, as he tugged them away from the oncoming wave of heat and might and terror that sparked to life in the serpents surfacing maw ‘’he is a tougher roach to kill than you give him credit for, and besides, this, be it sheltering fire for the time being, is still his domain to do with as he pleases.’’

Gritting his teeth hard, Jack heard the other bark something else that was lost in the fray, as he followed the path that Pitch had chosen, the sense of direction quickly lost, before his holder tugged him to a stop at another smaller tunnel leading away from the main one.

‘’Get Adriane and go,’’ Pitch ordered, as he wasted no time in shoving the other down the smaller tunnel. ‘’Release the others. Do not linger.’’

‘’I-‘’

‘’Go, Jack, Go! Off with you- Run!’’

A tad stiffly, Jack nodded after the black dot of Pitchs fleeing head, before he spun and continued down the path that he had been given, the pounding of his heart loud in his ears, the arm that held his source burning with a strange, foreign hurt, as he ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

Straight ahead,

A turn,

Straight ahead,

A left-

Adriane was already ready, her mane flying about, as she met him halfway down the winding curve of a tunnel filled with a light layer of ash, the dark specks kicking about in the air, sticking to his clothes and skin, as Jack sprinted past her and way ahead - into the stables, his source carelessly thrown to the mercy of sheltering hay, scratched hands wrecked by tremors, as they undid what knots and ropes and pieces of wooden planks stood between the remaining mares and salvation.

Off, they all were in a beat – the sound of fleeing hooves like sweet relief in his ears, as Jack spun and all but crashed into Adriane’s side in his haste to get her ready. Fully aware that each second was precious, he managed to get the reins and saddle done in record time, the job far from perfect, but it would have to do- it would have to be enough-

Source snatched close, a bit of hay flung out of his eye by a busy palm, Jack swung himself up, his free hand quick to settle to her mane, before he implored Adriane to move with a rushed plea for her to be swift.

It was not a long stretch back, not by a long shot, but by the gods did it feel the deal. The wind whipped at his face, rushing past, as he traced his steps back through a different set of trembling tunnels, Jack following the source of the warmth and flame and dizzying colour, until they came upon the flickering serpent,

Ah-

A flashing sea of white sparks burst outwards in a ragged line, the dark of the moving steel biting through, as its metal tore itself straight down the massive bend of the serpents head - the blazing maw of the wounded animal shrieking a halting, tethering screech in defiance, as it bared its blinding teeth and made to snap and bite at the dark, moving spot of equaled rage still keeping it at bay,

Had Jack been the one to circle around in his haste, or had Pitch danced far enough back that the position had been reversed?

In front, still shielded from Jacks view, the blocking wall of flame flickered and expanded, starving the air of its limited oxygen, as it contracted in on itself again, before pulsating out with a fresh wave of shimmering heat-

‘’Pitch!’’ Jack hollered at the top of his depleted lungs, his head spinning anew from a fresh onslaught of dizziness, muscles heavy, as the clogging smoke thinned the air further ‘’Godsdammit now! Now for fucks sake, come! Come on!’’

The head of the serpent twisted itself around at the sound of his calling, the broken pieces of its dangling jaw reassembling itself from out of pure heat and flame, the structure easing together into a design far more frightening, before its twitching form raised up impossibly high, looming tall – the blistering fray scraping the pebble and soil of the ceiling.

The light flashed in its middle, the little pinpoints jerking about, oozing out of its sneering mouth, as they screamed their wish to devour, to feast, to take. Sluggish, the movement driven by a tinged thrum of panic, Jack willed his arm to jerk up in defense, the blunt of his nails digging into his source tight, mind begging for it to be enough and-

Gods, the rest of the twitching form of the coloured inferno slithered around in a slowed semi-circle, the lights closing in, pulsating, coming too close - the last trace of his sense for self-preservation tugging for his body to move, for fatigued muscle and sinew and bone to set into motion, to flee. And yet, the only response that came was Jacks own grimace, his burning arm shaking in its attempt to stay up, ready, instincts screaming for him to go, go go go before it was too late, but it was too late already, all of it was too late and this would not last, none of it could,

‘’Pitch!’’

With one final act of will, Jack tightened the hold of his source to the point of it hurting, the reins cradled close in his other, as he grit his teeth and tried to breathe through the increasing beats of sickened nausea that threatened to send him reeling.

Had he gone? Was he gone already? Had he fled while Jack bodily offered the opportunity for distraction?

Legs shaking, Jack accepted it, as Adriane tossed her head and whined in fright at the beat of heat that slammed against her front. He was not going to be able stay on her for long in this state, he was going to fall off, he was going to fall, he-

The dark metal cleaved perfectly through what made for the serpents flaming neck, Pitchs form emerging in a plume of the resulting, coloured smoke, as he vaulted himself through, as close to the sloping wall, as he could possibly get. The man shouted something too harsh and gritting for Jack to hear, but it seemed Adriane understood the clear command perfectly. Huffing, she started to move, hooves digging into dirt, as she turned and made away.

Behind, a wave of darkness pressed against the shimmering flame, pushing it back, blocking heat for all of a merciful beat, as Pitch curled a clawed hand around the saddles front and leapt up behind.

The round of the scythes handle bonked against Jacks leg, the reins snatched from him in one clawed hand, as the attached arm settled firmly around his middle and tugged him close. ‘’I told you to go,’’ Pitchs throaty growl scolded in his ear ‘’you absolute fool.’’

Funny, Jack rasped a wet breath, his head spinning, the arm around him tightening further in caution to his suffocated, heaving choking, as the heat of the unnatural fire chased them - Funny how that sounded an awful lot like relief.

The serpent was far faster than should have been possible, faster than its massive girth should have allowed for, and, with a start, Jack realized, as his own need for clarity made him turn his head to estimate the distance - the head of it had grown back in less than a minute. But no, that statement was wrong, was it not? Eyes widened, his heart hammering in his chest, as the organ squeezed itself against his ribs in fright, his lips moved numbly in petrified awe, tone coated in disbelief, as the realization of its nature pieced itself together before his very eyes,

‘’Hydra.’’

‘’Quite aware Jack.’’ Pitch hissed back with equaled urgency, just as a burst of flame shot down the tunnel on either side of them, charring the walls of soil, before bouncing back and nearly engulfing them whole. With an arm already thrumming from the previous collide with the fire, Jack smacked his free palm over the outer side of his thigh in shock, as a wicked trail of flame licked up his leg. The ice suffocated the fire, the pain leaving a taste of a metallic edge behind his teeth, as he tried to grit it back.

‘’Stall it,’’ Pitch barked at him.

‘’How?’’ Jack cried back on a voice laced with fright and hurt.

‘’Ice, wind, your persistent pestering, I do not care, just get it done!’’

A circular fan of spikes rose behind and in between the thundering hooves of Adriane, the ice crude and cutting, exploding outwards in a sharp array of thin, penetrating points, as Jack swallowed the resulting bile and pushed as hard as he could for the flow to respond, to form into a tool that he could use - the enraged screeching of the chasing fire increasing in volume and really, Jack hardly needed much more coaxing than that to keep at it.

Fuck if it hurt though, they were nearly at the gates – a few stars visible on the early evening sky, the far away flame twinkling, promising sweet release, if only they could make it that far,

‘’There’s a drop, it’s a drop Pitch, we’re gonna-‘’

‘’Have faith in me, Jack.’’

The pace turned frantic, the wind sharp and biting, as Pitch drew Adriane against it and raced towards the menacing edge and Jack, slightly distracted, had half a mind to ask it to relent. The reply came so suddenly that he felt Adriane jolt from the abrupt change of pressure against her front, the mare whining as she nearly tumbled, Pitchs clawed hand on the reins tightening in response, his grit out curse a withering scold, before she regained her balance with the grace of one well versed in the arts of combat and fuck- Jack barely dared to breathe as her hooves brought them closer to what should have been certain doom. A spark of colour to their left flickered to life, Adriane upping her pace further as it was her bid, her pants heavy and labored, as Jack squeezed his eyes nearly shut and directed the winds around and behind her racing form – the intend successful, finding its mark, as it pushed the hissing serpent back for all of a liberation beat.

Adriane charged, the drop closing in at rapid pace, the distance far but not as far as Jack remembered it, and with a single great leap, they were in the air. The deep dark of the drop spanned out below, the depths seeming endless, hungry, the edge of the other side seeming an eternity away, impossibly far, but then Adrianes hooves touched down, the force of her weight making the loose pebble part in an outwards spray before her, before she whined and shot through the air - away from the drop, away from death and ahead, out into the fresh of the early evening air.

Jack dared himself to look back once more, head spinning with the movement, but fuck all, the serpent had fallen, it had fallen and-

With grit teeth and a clipped command rasping in his ear, Pitch snapped at Jack to remain still, to halt his movements and focus, as the man in question steered Adriane hard to the right and out onto a trembling, beaten path lined with the small of withered bushed. The bare branches seemed to vibrate, the pristine snow that had gathered atop shaking loose and falling off in great chunks and with Pitchs beat of stark anger growling low in his ear, Jack realized it too.

‘’Use the winds when it comes.’’

Fingers tight on his source, Jack watched, as a single cluster of bushes all lost their white covering, the snow gathering in little heaps below, the ground trembling with a great might, as a burst of flame and heat and colour shot out in a sea of sparks right beside - the indignant roar that tore through the air making his ears ring anew, as it raised its massive weight high and lunged at them with all the desperation of an exhausted predator quickly losing its prey,

‘’Now!’’

The wind slammed into the serpents smoldering side, just as a seething pain bloomed across Jacks cheek as a single spark hit it, the little pinpoint of heat spreading to the corner of his mouth, his lip, out over his tongue in a matter of a second. Startled, Jack frantically scratched at it with a set of fingers clumsy in their numbness, his movements panicked and unprecise, before claws pried their way in and snatched the small tendril of writhing flame from his mouth. The screaming intruder wriggled to get away, the light flaring angrily, blinding this up close, before Pitch sneered and crushed it in a tight fist.

Idly, Jack kept his palm smacked over his mouth, the thrumming hurt that stretched across his cheek and lip burning horribly, as he fought to stay upright. The distraction had cost them precious seconds though, the burst of flame once more licking too close for comfort against Adrianes flank and with a beat of guilt, Jack heard her cry out, as the hairs of her fur burnt to colourful ashes.

‘’One last blast, Jack. We have to endure it,’’ Pitch implored, as he too realized as much.

‘’What are you planning-‘’

‘’Ice and wind, equaled with what shade I have left to spare.’’ Pitch roughed back on an urgent note, the curve of his jaw digging into the side of Jacks head, as the man crushed him close and spurred Adriane on for as hard as she could go. ‘’Make it count-’’

And count it did, the arm around him staying tight in the wake of the winds victorious howling, Jacks awareness waning, as the ache in his muscles drowned all else out. It felt an awful lot like falling, gentle feet dancing out, treading on thin ice that would soon give.

The winds fell quiet, the pleasant cool of the evening chill a blessing to his burns, as Jack breathed out a sigh that swiftly eased itself into a rough, ragged cough, throat hurting in its aftermath, as he wrapped a slack hand around the wrist that still pressed into his middle. He should gather the flow. He should press for it until his own reserves were truly depleted, but, that was the talk of a frightened mind. The serpent had lacked behind. Not gone as per say, but pushed far enough back, fallen far enough in the distance, that it would be outrun by the sheer amount of effort that Adrianes unwavering loyalty and stamina was providing to the faltering chase.

It did count. It had counted. Somehow it had been enough, and now, Jack truly had nothing left to give.

Pitch snapped something in his ear that he did not quite catch, the man cursing under his breath, the words angered, tinged with a suffocated worry, the urgency of needed reassurance following with but going unanswered, as Jack gave up and let himself fall, let the ice break beneath his feet.

Still, he mused, as the arm around him moved to keep his slack weight in place, a clawed hand finding his constricted chest and pressing in, holding him safe and secure, so that he would not fall off amidst the wild dash towards safety - it felt warm, as he finally fainted.

Chapter Text

The clawed hand was careful, as it repeatedly slapped his uninjured cheek, the arm around him tight, shaking him gently in an attempt to rouse. Seriously, Jack thought, as he coughed out weakly, breaths strained and rattling wet, the ache in his head a familiar one, as the clawed hand returned to his chest and stayed there, keeping him in place – waking up like this could not be healthy.

‘’Breathe,’’ Pitch ordered, ‘’breathe deep, Jack, do not try to keep it in. You must get it out of your system as best you can.’’

With a constricted throat, chest heaving, Jacks lips pulled themselves into an irked grimace. Truly, he felt like the vibrating string of a harp that had been strung a little too hard, core still unstable in the aftermath of what they had managed to outrun. ‘’Yeah, no shi-‘’ the tone was halting, bordering on gritting, the arm still pressed partly to his middle moving up to settle around his chest instead, helping him lean to the side, just as the muscles of his abdomen clenched painfully and caused his stomach to lurch,

‘’Get it out,’’ Pitch ordered on a flat tone as firm as it was riddled with worry ‘’as much as you can, get it out. You will feel better for it. It will help.’’

It fucking better-

Jack dry heaved, his spine curled in on himself, as his stomach flipped, the sounds ragged and rough, hot tears stinging his eye, as he spat at the moving ground. Vision blurry, it took a beat to realize that they were indeed still moving. ‘’Good, Jack-‘’

‘’Could you please shut the fuck up for a moment-‘’

Head fuzzy, with a belly bloated and wrong, Jack shook from an internal chill, his arms clutched around his middle, staff squashed against his ribs and the crook of his elbow, where Pitch had had no option but to tighten his hold around the other in order for it to not fall. ‘’Where the fuck are we?’’ Jack wheezed, as he once more spat out a too solid chunk of something, to which Pitch softly hummed a drawling tune.

‘’Do you wish for me to speak or to remain quiet?’’

Touché.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, mouth set into a thin line, as he tried and failed to swallow around the bitter lump in his throat. It burned horribly, breaths hindered, as it kept contracting with little heaps that threatened to turn his stomach anew. ‘’Well I-‘’ he managed, before a flinch cut him short, whole body convulsing once, before the arm around his chest jerked him back and up into an upright position. Mercifully, as the clawed hand pressed at his sternum and applied pressure, the rising bile once more calmed enough for Jack to heave a faltering breath of air into protesting lungs.

‘’You what, Jack?’’

His thighs twitched, as he tried to close his legs around the strong flanks of Adriane, the aching muscles in Jacks neck tight, as he dared to rest his heavy head back against Pitchs chest.

To his relief, the man easily let him.

The Nightmare king, the crushed bird in his chest peeped up to correct him. A murderer. A tyrant, it snapped at him, as it puffed up its feathered chest, opened its beak wide in an angered tantrum and screamed a shrill tune for him to pay attention, to consider the flakes of dried blood that still clung to his wrists amongst a pallet of pained, straining blisters.

There was a word for this, he mused, as the shielding arm gingerly wedged its way around his waist again and loosely settled there - the state of his mind had a word tied to it.

Compromised, he settled. Yeah. Comprised had a nice ring to it,

Suicidal, the crushed bird meekly interjected as it hollered for his fleeting righteousness to get itself together, hypocritical, selfish, ignorant-

‘’Heh,’’ Jack huffed out, the tone dry and tired, the conflicted beat lasting less than a second as in the end, he reckoned, he really was too tired to humor its howling critique, the sparks of morally that tried to penetrate the thick fog in his head. With lips slightly parted, Jack fully sagged against the other with a thoroughly exhausted sigh. Idly, his hand found its way to Pitchs wrist and held on.

‘’I dunno.’’

‘’In regards to what exactly?’’

Jacks head fell to the side, uninjured cheek pressed to the rough, warm fabrics that covered Pitchs chest and with a beat of worry, he noted that it was quite colder than he had expected it to be.

How long had they been moving? How long had they been out already?

‘’I dunno,’’ Jack said again, the tone lower this time, as he gathered enough thought to do so, ‘’I really don’t.’’

The air was cool and crisp, a sweet blessing to his burns, as he stared at the point of the darkening horizon ahead, Jack tired in the absence of the lost adrenaline, mind hazy, deliciously numb, as he did his best to keep the pressing nausea in his throat at bay. Below, he as much heard as felt, as Adriane huffed softly, the pristine, white mist ghosting about her face in gentle heaps, as she pushed on, out over the barren wasteland, which spread out far to all sides around them.

In the end, he reckoned, it was quite impressive how well she had taken the whole ordeal and stiffly, he petted a hand down over her mane in appreciation, only to have his stinging gaze lock on the singed skin of his fingers, the knuckles raw and red with crusted blood, the scratches dusted over with dried dirt and ash.

He knew that it was pretty bad, but actually seeing the extend of it,

Behind, the low, displeased hum that sounded was all the warning that he got, before Jack found himself hissing in pain, as Pitch grabbed the offended limb and held it in place, the dark nothing slithering around, pinning his hand tight and keeping him from moving. Idly, the tip of a careful claw tapped and prodded at the little bumps that littered the limb, the hairs on the back of Jacks neck standing on end, gaze swiftly averted, as he realized what Pitch intended to do,

Fuck-

Jack wheezed out a thin huff in distress, eyes squeezed shut, as the claws applied the slightest of pressure - the lukewarm liquid trickling down the back of his hand and in between the spaces of his fingers. If anything, at least it eased the worst of the immediate pressure. The dark kept his hand in place, until Pitch had finished up with a thoughtful scoff, before it proceeded to ease its way up the rest of his arm as well, the band squeezing shut around the bend of his elbow and,

‘’Wait-‘’ Jack managed, the tone sounding unsure of the stark turn in treatment, as claws ripped the fabric of his sleeve, determined fingers tearing it open wider, until the gap was large enough for Pitchs hand to bully its way inside.

‘’Kindly keep still,’’ the tips of said fingers remained careful, keeping as gentle as they could, as they pressed to the skin of Jacks arm - the man’s palm feeling scorching against angered burns, the touch thorough in its acutely attentive work, as it examined the damage, before the man once more hummed and let go. ‘’This cannot heal proper on its own if you do not allow me to assist,’’ he asserted on a firm tone that left little room for argument.

‘’That’s not how burns work Pitch, in time it’ll-‘’

‘’Tell me to stop and I will,’’ Pitch clipped, as he grabbed Jacks hand close and tugged it, and the arm attached, under the hem of his heavy robe, shielding it entirely from view. ‘’But as it stands, whatever time that you are aiming for, is not something that we have the luxury of sparing.’’

Abruptly, the crushed birds beak shut closed with a click and though the paranoia remained silent for the time being, it did not immediately cease its frenzied state.

A pleasant ache spread out through Jacks hand, the crease between his brows easing a tad, as the blessed push of golden light hidden under the shielding fabric made its way through the hurting limb. Greatly, he sighed in relief, as the burn in his arm gradually started to fade as well, the flow insistent, making his skin tingle with a strange, subtle thrumming, before the soft glow faded and left behind nothing but a faint, dull throbbing.

‘’Your other hand,’’ Pitch insisted on a clipped note, as the dark nothing eased away and let him regain mobility, to which, a tad perplexed, Jack softly shook his head.

‘’It was only this one that was pretty fucked,’’ he replied on a sore, raspy voice, to which he as much heard as felt the hushed, quiet warning of a hum, which rumbled through the man’s chest - Pitchs proceeding tone low, riddled with displeasure,

‘’Do not lie to me, Jack.’’

‘’Well, I gotta keep a hold of this, don’t I?’’ Jack, completely undeterred, argued, as he shook his staff a bit for emphasis, only to find it snatched from his grip and settled partly over his thighs and Adrianes back instead. Loudly, Pitch gruffed at him,

‘’Keep hold of it with your other hand and fetch me the first.’’

‘’This really isn’t necessary-‘’

‘’And you will do it regardless.’’

Frowning, Jack scoffed a low breath, the tip of his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth, as he did as he was bid and gave up the other hand, to which Pitch once more offered a throaty hum in return.

‘’Thank you for your compliance.’’

Rolling his eyes, Jack glared off to the side, his mouth set in a thin line, as his other hand and arm received the same thorough treatment as the first had.

‘’Where’s the forest that Bunny talked about?’’ Jack asked over the sound of his sleeve being torn open, just as the intruding palm made its way inside and prodded out over his lightly singed skin. As he had said, its state was not nearly as damaged, as the other had been.

‘’Considering Adrianes tired state and the fact that we have traveled in the opposite direction at breakneck speed? About a good days journey from here.’’ Pitch replied, his palm faster in its examination of the arm that he had pinned, as he too realized as much.

Rapidly, Jack blinked, his brow furrowed, as he stared out over the sweeping snow still descending onto the vacant fields around them. ‘’Oh,’’ he mumbled, the tone still heavily burdened by the burning in his throat, as something sour settled in the pit of his upset stomach. Frowning, he had an inkling suspicion that he had been out of it for far longer than he had initially thought. ‘’Should we not look for shelter then?’’ he pressed, to which Pitch softly shook his head.

‘’There will be nowhere for us to go. Jamie will be keeping a keen, watchful eye on all of the farms and general estates around. We would bring the fire if we managed it. Even if we do indeed succeed in finding such, then it will bring nothing but ruin for both ourselves and whatever poor soul might seek to grant us refuge.’’

Jack did not quite know what to say in the face of that. ‘’But you’re cold,’’ he eventually deadpanned, to which Pitch huffed a rich, dark laugh, the man’s chest vibrating with a hint of hysteria from the mirthless gesture, as he finally let go of Jacks arm and returned to snatch up the neglected reins.

‘’Oh, I am.’’

Jack worried the inside of his cheek between his teeth, the beat of uncertainty lasting quite longer than he was comfortable with. Truly, he had little to tug on, his energy still slow to return as it was, but regardless of that...

With his jaw clenched against the surge of nausea that it brought him, Jack asked the winds to relent the worst of its insistent sway and in return, he felt the arm around him squeeze tight once in appreciation, before it returned to the loose hold that it had kept throughout the better half of an hour already.

This, he reckoned - this much he could do without causing permanent harm,

Pitchs sigh was low, the shaky breath that ghosted over the bend of Jacks ear coated by far more emotion than the latter’s mind was quite willing to decipher between. ‘’I understand the intention, Jack, I understand the drive, but save your energy. Do not waste it thusly.’’

Do not waste it on me.

A tad stiffly, Jack shrugged a noncommittal shoulder. ‘’And if I want to?’’

‘’Then you may wish to reconsider your priorities,’’ Pitch hummed, the tone dry, but not quite as stern as the man had probably hoped for it to be. Softly, Pitch drew a slowed breath, as he too seemed to realize as much.

‘’Well shit, am I allowed to have an opinion on my own fucking reserves-‘’

‘’Leave it, Jack,’’ Pitch interrupted, as a particularly nasty burst of wind had Jacks entirely frame trembling in his attempt to keep it at bay ‘’I have meant no harm with my words.’’

It was quiet for a beat, as Jack swallowed around the lump in his throat, a small hic escaping him, the tips of restless fingers finding the torn shreds of his sleeve and fiddling with it, as he offered a gruffed out hum in return to that. Silently, his gaze fell, eyes falling shut completely, as he pressed his meddling fingers into the fabrics of his sleeve and made a loose fist of it. ‘’I know.’’

If anything, while Pitch remained quiet in what seemed hesitant appreciation at that, the crushed bird in Jacks chest narrowing its beady eyes at him in disgust, head tugged into its own feathery chest, as it puffed itself into a little ball of raw, barely contained rage.

Fraternizing, it shrieked.

Compromised, he softly reminded it, as it proceeded to take up its shrill screaming through a craned, upturned throat.

Wordlessly, the arm around Jack tightening ever so slightly, the man’s chin lowering to the point of it coming to lightly rest on top of the formers head - the press of it barely there, the protective gesture distant and yet still familiar in its polite approach, as Pitch steered Adriane in the direction headed out towards a magnificent body of bended, withered trees to their immediate left.

--

Still, they had pressed on through the shielding branches of the dormant trees for what must have been at least an hour yet, the poor Adriane panting from the effort of it all, as Pitch finally allowed her to slow under the thick of heavy, intertwined crowns of twisting branches, which stretched and presented themselves high above them. Crude, the branches were to look at, the twigs curling out like black strokes of ink drawn across a deep, dark, grey sky riddled with the little pinpoints of twinkling stars.

Kicking at the ground, the staff at his side twirling about in his most uninjured palm, Jack stood in the midst of what seemed a small, collapsed ruin of what might once have been an old cottage or a forgotten shed. The former design of it hardly mattered though, the importance lying in the fact that the bite of the winds was less here, the snow remaining thinner, mostly untouched, except for the occasional draft of a light breeze that swept through and made the cold white dance in a thin, semi-translucent sway.

-

Pitchs frame was burdened by an insistent shiver, the mans fingers stiff and uncooperative, the tone wrapped in praise for a hard ride well done, as he tended to Adrianes burns. Gently, he shushed her in a hushed tone, claws skimming over the worst of her burned fur, as right beside, Jack fought to get the torn sleeve of his shirt off enough to properly regard his own.

The minutes passed, the wind making the black lines of the trees above twitch and jerk about, the pale light of the moon casting the ground in long streaks of reaching shadows, before Pitch leaned up and stretched out his back with a sore, depleted sigh spilling from his thin lips. The man twisted, the brilliant glare of gold narrowed, as it slid onto Jack, the attentive gaze gauging, as it noted the state of the others cheek and lip,

‘’Let me see,’’ Pitch demanded, as a clawed hand reached out towards Jacks face, the gesture a genuine care, beckoning the other closer.

In return, Jack stared out into the thick of the withered trees stretching out around them, the fingers on his staff drumming a slowed tattoo against its wood, before he huffed a defeated little hum, reluctantly trod over, and kneeled down in front of the likewise seated other. Reluctantly, he opened up, as claws tapped at his lip for him to do so, Pitchs face set in a deep frown, as he examined the extent of the damage and then proper down onto Jacks gently throbbing arm as well. ‘’Singed.’’ Pitch mused lowly to himself, as he contemplated the efforts of his own careful, albeit be it blind while riding, work. ‘’It should not scar too terribly, but I reckon it still aches something fierce.’’

It sounded like a question and Jack knew that it was. It was quiet for a beat, the blunt of Jacks own nails skimming over the chasm of his other palm,

‘’It does,’’ he finally offered back and then proceeded to jolt in fright, eyes fluttering nearly closed on their own, whole back tense, as the cover of Pitchs dark robe descended over them like a dark wave of pure shadow in response. His jaw was cradled in a freezing, albeit be it gentle touch, Pitchs other hand ghosting over Jacks mouth, before it pressed to close over it completely. Tightly, Jack shut his eyes against the bright glow of golden light that passed over his skin and left it tingling in its wake, the soothing touch taking his pain, but barely leaving it healed properly, the skin still raised and offended. Like that, they stayed; the proximity close, warmer with their shared breaths and with a pained little click sounding from his throat, Jack swallowed something that tasted an awful lot like uncertainty.

‘’You didn’t have to do this.’’ He practically whispered into the stale quiet behind the others shielding palm, his voice slightly muffled, as Pitch huffed at him in a way that sounded entirely too annoyed. Carefully, the clawed hand fell away to uncover his mouth.

‘’Your perspective of my nature may have changed for the horrid, Jack, but the shift does not affect my reality.’’ The rough fabrics of Pitchs robe fell away, the act leaving Jack far more chilled than from the elements alone. ‘’Are you cold?’’ Pitch asked, as though reading his train of thought, to which Jack swiftly shook his head, palm settling to the ground, as he drew a bit back, away, out of the others invaded space.

‘’No.’’

‘’At all?’’

‘’It’s…’’ Jack tried, the words dying in his throat, tasting terrible on the back of his tongue, as he slowly stood up and dusted the worst of the clinging dust off of his knees with a hand wrecked by nervous tremors. ‘’I don’t really feel it,’’ he finally lamented.

Pitch hummed in return, the man turning, clawed hands once more busy, as they set to riffle through what sparse belongings Jack had managed to hastily strap to Adrianes saddle in his haste to get her ready, ‘’Good.’’

There was not a whole lot stored within, Jack realized, but the bag that Pitch had prepared and kept at the ready in the stables at least held enough water to last them for the night through. Still, it was not as if they did not have enough snow to keep them hydrated, he mused, as he looked about himself - but without any fire or real heat at their disposal, it would be difficult to melt. That was, unless Pitch would opt to just shovel handfuls of raw snow into his mouth and let his natural warmth do the job for him.

An impractical solution, maybe, but that could become a very real outcome, if their stay in the outdoors ended up dragging out for longer than Pitch seemed to be expecting it to.

Idly, Jacks eyes roamed over the tense muscle of the others bended back, the shivering burden that had claimed the beaten center of the man's spine. ‘’But you are cold,’’ Jack murmured under his breath on a tone low enough to be swallowed up by the subdued roar of the wind still drifting through and around the trunks of the trees. In front, the black of Pitchs head jerked slightly in his direction, the tone an inquiry for the other to repeat himself,

‘’What was that?’’

‘’Nothing,’’ Jack said, as he jerked forwards, just as Pitch, without looking, handed him a rather well-worn waterskin ‘’It was… Nothing.’’ He drank deep from it, the cool water doing wonders on his parched throat, before Jack handed the skin back into a clawed, waiting hand and once more looked about.

As it was, behind the hinted square framing what had once been a part of someone’s residence, an outpost of rocks lay – the crude shape of a low wall, or perhaps something else entirely, haven rested long enough in the same position to have become immobile, the stone seeming merged together, where time had touched and eventually forgotten its existence.

Jack shuffled a bit on the harsh undergrowth, his ankle briefly getting caught on the low, scratchy branches, which provided a bit of cover from the else bare, hardened ground, after Pitch had wiped the worst of the snow off of it in a circular space around them. It was not as if the effort of it had not been an honest one, quite the opposite really, but something about the place still made Jack feel unease, his gut-feeling still uncertain about their current choice of a safe haven. Sure they did not exactly have any better options with the situation at hand being a poor provider of anything else, but fact remained that the place was… Eerie to say the least. What had once quite clearly been a home remained as nothing more than a faint echo - its occupants gone, moved on, or perhaps fled entirely.

Or worse, he mused, as he noted the second, larger frame cradled deep into the earth, the faint hint of an old foundation that had not quite yet been claimed by natures unstoppable touch creating a significant dent in the ground, which made up the small clearing. Had it burned? He wondered, as he glared at a piece of old, protruding wood, which presented itself just above the cold covering of white – or had the place collapsed from use and wear?

The soft kiss of a snowflake hit his cheek, the little pinpoint of wet awareness making Jack stare up at the sky again, before he huffed something slightly bothered and looked back down at the gentle white caught in between the spaces of his rather dirty toes as well. The weather had grown significantly colder already, but, he knew, it would get worse as the veil of night truly descended on them.

Adriane was not nearly as bothered by it all, as Pitch was, the mare haven merely opted to lie still on the ground, her tail flickering about every so often in an irked, displeased display over the poor lodging – or rather, the lack of it - as the man himself had taken up riffling through the meager bag again. With a small triumphant growl of an elated exclaim, he seemingly found what he was looking for. Swiftly, Pitch turned and held out one of the small, colourful vials containing the numbing agent that Bunnymund had gifted them. ‘’Take it,’’ Pitch implored on a note that left no room for argument. ‘’We may not be able to sleep for as long as would be optimal, but this will help with the quality of it.’’

Hesitantly, Jack strode forwards, his wavering hand lingering in the air between them for a beat, before he nevertheless reached out and ultimately accepted it. ‘’What about you?’’ He asked, Jacks brow furrowed, as Pitch merely hummed in return and laid down, the brilliant glare of gold closing, as the man tugged his clawed hands in under his armpits and kept his back pressed up as close to Adriane, as he possibly could.

‘’What about me, Jack?’’

‘’Well, you’re gonna need this as well, aren’t you?’’ Jack asked on a matter of fact tone, as he carefully shook the vial slightly for emphasis despite Pitch not being able to see the gesture, only to have the man huff at him.

‘’I have had to endure worse with no ways of quenching my pain,’’ Pitch insisted with an air of determined finality. ‘’And besides, you will need this more than I do. You were with the fire for much longer than I was.’’

A beat passed, another taking its place, before Pitch scoffed out a gritting tune, mouth set in a thin, annoyed line, as Jack proceeded to do nothing more but nervously twist the vial about in his hands. ‘’Just take it and sleep, Jack. I can manage quite fine without.’’

It got quiet then, as the wind howled around them, the playful caress of a breeze ghosting through the trees, swaying close over the surface of the covering snow, playing with the strands of Jacks hair, as he dug the side of his heel into the ground and lightly curled his toes. The vial burned something awful against his palm, the gifted touch of it feeling like guilt, as he looked to the dark of the horizon stretching out far ahead. By the sense of it all and judging from the position of the ghostly pale of the swelling moon, it would be at least nine hours until the sun rose and brought its meager warmth with it.

Concerned, Jack glared up at the stars, neck craned, before his eyes fluttered shut with an ugly sensation settling into the pit of his hurting stomach. He knew the odds. Knew, what such a cold that a cloudless night-sky brought with it would do.

In front, the thoroughly dismayed sigh that Pitch let out made Jack look back down again, the flinty glare of brilliant gold staring back in its narrowed fashion, as the man growled a low, warning tune at him. ‘’Drink the fucking thing and sleep you nit,’’ he roughed on a voice wrecked by chills. ‘’If you would be so kind.’’

Idly, Jack snorted at the cuss, as he shrugged a noncommittal shoulder in reply, before he managed the lid and threw his head back to drain it all in one go. Promptly, his face screwed up into a foul grimace. Fucking hell did it taste as sour as it had the first time around. With a mocking hum of satisfaction hissing out into the freezing air between them, Pitch once more retrieved in on himself and let his eyes fall closed,

‘’Well done.’’ Pitch gruffed, the cold wind chilling his front as it pushed through, the mans lips tinted a light shade of blue, as his prolonged shivering eased into an uncontrolled tremble.

Sleep, Jacks mind reminded him, as his gaze fell, eyes seeking to trace out over the harsh underbrush covering the ground around them – this was the part where he was supposed to feign ignorance and sleep to find another corpse pressed close in the cage of his own making in the morning-

Loudly, the dead bird in his chest pecked at the organ in protesting disgust, as Jacks heart painfully clenched at the thought of what this would unmistakably lead to, the conflicted mental debate lasting a mere beat at the podium of his morality, before he squatted down, one palm pressed to the ground, the other tight around his source, as he drew a deep breath and concentrated. His teeth were left tingling in its wake, the flow halting, tethering on disobedient, difficult to command, as a snap of red-hot pain tugged at the already tense nerves cradled along his curved spine.

He did not know if he could do it, but he had to try.

If he could just-

The brilliant glare of startled gold snapped open and jerked about in acute shock, Pitchs clawed hand already reaching out, palm wrapped around the handle of his scythe, the man propped up on his elbow, upper arms flexed for the fight that he thought was coming, as the ground beneath them started to lightly tremble. A subtle cracking sounded, creaks and clear snaps accompanying the forming idea, as a thick, icy, ring started to weave itself together around them.

Okay. Okay, good, this was good, he could do this, he could do this, if he could just-

Adrianes confused whine was loud as it rang through the air, the tune shrill, Pitchs trembling touch to her mane nevertheless quick to calm her nervous fit, the scythes metal abandoned, as the man openly stared in awe at the spear-shaped dome that rose and closed above their heads.

With a heavy breath leaving through lightly clattering teeth, Jack licked at his lips and stayed as he were, his palm kept in place, the tips of his fingers digging into the rough cover of the withered forest,

Okay. Okay, it should be enough, it should be able to hold-

Idly, Jack kept the others golden stare, the gleam in them tired and yet so proud, that he did not quite know what to do with it. Wordlessly, he averted his gaze, eyes tracing out over the fine stitching of what was visible of Pitchs boots, just as a clawed, trembling hand reached out for the fourth time that late evening - the gesture holding no expectation to its tremoring wave, as it beckoned for him to come closer.

It was still awfully cold, Jack reckoned, as he felt the gentle sway of the wind beat against his shielding creation, the snow quick to cover its unnatural shape in a thin layer of white, which settled mostly to the side that greeted the winds biting press. It was still cold, but with Adrianes heavy breaths and the combined closure of two, worn out bodies, it should warm fairly quick. He did not need to go to him. He did not need to close that physical distance - the space created was large enough for Jack to lay down and still keep a good two feet between them. And yet,

Gratefulness. A deep sense of perplexed gratitude, was that what sparked through Pitchs eye, as the man looked at him?

A little, warning peep sounded in his chest, as the decaying bird bit and chewed at his heartstrings, tiny talons digging in deep, as Jack abandoned his source and crawled the sparse space willingly. Pitch snatched him up against his own equally chilled form as soon as he got within distance to do as much, the man’s arms snaking around to shield, the familiar but achingly polite press of careful claws leaving an anchoring trail across Jacks scalp, as they caressed into his hair.

The dome would hold, it damn well had to-

Jack felt the others shaky breath shutter from the insistent chill, the gist of it ghosting out over the side of his neck, just as Pitch spun them around and pressed Jacks front up against Adriane – the man’s own pressed to the former’s back, shielding him in a loose embrace, in order to keep him warm.

The dome would hold the night through, but what if-

Jacks hand splayed flat to the uninjured parts of Adrianes burned flank in an attempt to quench his own beat of uncertainty, said palm feeling the strong muscle expand and relax on the exhale, as she breathed a tad less strained than she had while fighting off the breeze of the freezing wind. Minutes passed like that, and as he had thought, the dome was quick to warm, the temperature sure to rise a generous amount of degrees more and yet, he worried for him. Even if Pitch did not harbor the same need for sleep as Jack did, it was clearly still too much for the other to handle, to properly rest through, to heal through - the press of bodies huddled together for warmth making Jack nervous and-

The rasping breath that he managed burned all the way down, the polite hold to his middle relenting easily, as Jack spun to face the other. ‘’Shouldn’t we switch places?’’ he asked, as he nudged closer, the distance somehow remaining formal, as Pitch shook his head in a soft jerk that looked more a taut tic of exhausted muscle than anything.

‘’It is not needed.’’

A beat lasted, the conflicted uncertainty sure, Jacks lips thinning, before he wrapped his arms around the other and pressed himself close. He knew that he would not be warm to the touch, but what little warmth that he could provide, would still be a far deal better than the bitter chill of the slowly warming ice surrounding them. ‘’You can place your hands under my clothes if it helps at all. The cold won’t bother me.’’ Jack whispered, as he buried his face in the others neck and rubbed at the chilled skin in an attempt to heat it up. And really, he reckoned, it was a testament to his own chilled state that the stiff fingers that twitched against the small of his back felt colder still.

Despite that, Pitch politely stayed any further movement, the low sway of a sudden gust of wind beating against the domes curving wall all that audibly answered the small offering - the smooth inner lining of the man’s robe yielding easily, the strong fibers surprisingly soft against scratched up knuckles, as Jacks hands found their way onto the others tense back as well and settled there. Boldly, he got braver, Jack feeling the deep, familiar ridges of old hurts spanning out beneath his slightly constricted fingers, when he met no resistance.

Still, he thought, as the side of his nail worried at a small, rough incline in the others skin - it was too quiet here, too peaceful considering what they had outrun, the shared need for warmth feeling too formal with all that had transpired,

‘’Would you tell me the rest?’’ he offered, Pitchs questioning hum shaky and cold, making the hairs on the back of Jacks neck stand on end, as it ghosted out over the side of it. ‘’The rest of your piece,’’ Jack elaborated ‘’the rest of the story. Why Jamie has the crown instead of you.’’

It was quiet for a beat. Then,

‘’It hardly matters.’’

Jack understood the quite clearly irked dismissal aimed towards indifference, he really did, but Pitch sounded so tired, so cold, the brilliant glare of gold still closed and disengaged, but as long as the man was speaking, as long as he was responding, it meant that he would be alright-

‘’Humor me,’’ Jack asked on a voice that begged for causality, the tone thin, worn and stretched towards the end of the sentence, as it reached to not sound as the plea that he knew it to be. The clawed hands on his back still shook, the silence heavy, the wind howling with a great vengeance, wiping fresh snow over the dome, ‘’Pitch?’’ Jack tried, ‘’Did you-… Look, if I may?’’ The gold was carefully closed off, the amused gleam in them gone, replaced by the chasm of a gaping void, as it finally gazed back at him and in return, Jack bit at the inside of his cheek, mind racing for a question that actually needed answering, instead of the panicky rambling that he truly wished to engage himself in. ‘’Did you ever get the chance to talk to North about the shard? The shard that he took? The… shard that-… You know. The shard. That whole ordeal.’’

Behind him, Adriane let out a heavy breath of a pant, the coarse hairs of her tail flickering about for a brief moment, as the dome slowly started to gain a sense of real warmth to it.

‘’I did.’’

With a small hum that he really hoped did not sound as desperately relieved as he felt it to be, Jack worried the blunt of a nail down the others lightly trembling spine, the tips of his fingers moving down in slowed, careless patterns, as it trailed out over the path of a particularly nasty scar. ‘’And?’’ he pressed, expression entirely too hopeful, as he willed himself to look back up and meet the others perplexed gaze.

The tired glare of molten gold narrowed, something sharp and calculating swirling in the midst of its acute confusion, as the man visibly frowned. ‘’Jack, what is this?’’ Pitch snapped on a strained growl of a sigh that sounded more tired than anything. ‘’What are you trying to do? What are you hoping to gain from this?’’

Idly, Jack worried his bottom lip between his teeth, the soft plush of it suffering under the light bite that he subjected to it, before engaging in a low hum of his own, ‘’Please just answer the question. Just please. Be so kind and humor me in this, yeah?’’

If the man had been unsure as to the severity of the others ulterior motives, the genuine state of its presence, Pitch seemed entirely baffled by the raw honesty that cracked through Jacks stinging, desperate blue. Still, he seemed unsure, a careful distance keeping busy in the others conflicted glare of gold and hesitation – Pitchs sneering mouth working for a few beats, before he roughed something harsh and biting under his breath. ‘’The situation was unique,’’ he said on a tone not quite committed towards any specific emotion. ‘’It has been explained to me in a manner that… made sense if one takes Nicholas’ general taste towards a more bold approach to combat into consideration.’’

It sounded as if he had more to add, but be it the tired beat keeping him dormant, or the uncertainty, Jack did not quite know. Still, the worry urged him to press, to keep the other talking for just a bit longer, ‘’So how did he do it exactly?’’

‘’By stopping time.’’

Rapidly, Jack blinked at that, gaze widened in genuine surprise and already, Pitch seemed to have to suppress an eye-roll. ‘’You’re shitting me, right?’’

‘’I am not.’’

‘’So what, North can stop time?’’

‘’No. But one of his acquaintances could.’’

‘’So-‘’

‘’Could, Jack,’’ Pitchs voice was hushed, as it ended on a slow, tired sigh. ‘’Past tense.’’

The air between them grew quiet for a beat, the wind beating against the curved wall of the dome, as Jack ran the tip of his tongue over the back of his teeth. ‘’Did he die, then?’’ he asked and then quickly proceeded to elaborate, as Pitch raised an unimpressed, questioning brow at him ‘’Norths acquaintance? Did he die in that fight?’’ Jack pressed.

In front, the brilliant gold gleamed in the near dark, the pale, flickering rays from the moon reflected in the others curious gaze, a flash of teeth showing, the tune of it dour, as a low, thoroughly amused chuckle started to rumble through the others chest. Irked, Jack scowled at him, brow furrowed at the obvious punchline that he seemed to be missing. ‘’Look, I’m being serious here,’’ he complained, as the other descended into a hearty belly laugh that, by all sense and purposes, seemed entirely misplaced for what had else been a fair thing to ask. ‘’Aight fuck, it’s not even that funny a question, do you mind?’’

A small worn out smile stretched itself over Pitchs face then, the man’s features taking on a hint of amused melancholy, as something seemed to crack in him. Whatever it was, it seemed none too gentle, but still, it felt familiar and fuck all if it did not feel like a punch to his already hurting gut. Jacks knee caught on the sharp tip of the insistent twig that had made itself busy digging into the meat of his outer thigh, a sense of something ugly settling to the back of his throat, coating his tongue in its bitter twinge, as he shifted himself a bit of the rough covering that made up the domes primitive flooring,

‘’Pitch do you fucking mind not mocking me-‘’

‘’I will not die from cold, Jack.’’ Pitch interrupted him, the stern, impassive glare of radiant gold hard and unflinching, no lie present in its dismissive confrontation, as Jack, called out, lowered his own and bit at the inside of his cheek. ‘’It will take more than this to kill me.’’

Behind, though the act of it was impossible, Adrianes heavy huff of an exhale sounded a great deal like agreement.

Again, it got quiet, Jack feeling himself rapidly blink, as he silently stared back at the other. The moment passed, a smaller, far less gentle one taking its place, before Pitch scoffed something highly bothered under his breath, the man’s mouth once more set in a deep scowl, as he drew back, away from the other and instead propped himself up on one elbow.

‘’Has the effects of the vial set in?’’ he asked on a clipped note, his clawed hand briefly disappearing from view, as he reached behind Jack and rummaged around for something. A beat later, the man handed him a small, round pendant, the metal cool to Jacks warming touch, as it was dropped into his waiting palm. A fine little circle it turned out to be, the construction made from what seemed pure silver, carved with the ornamental twist of two branching lines, which wrapped tightly around each other.

Roses, Jack mused, as he noted the tiny, little thorns added into the sparse spaces between each bending line. Inside the round curve, two lines protruded from its center, the pointers cradled within the circle of the twelve numbers that surrounded them.

Fully engaged in the fine workings of it, it took a beat for Jack to understand what he was looking at, not used to glancing at any clock as his old family home had had none, and only haven had to cast his eyes over the one back at the dark mansion, when it needed dusting.

Idly, though with little patience lost in the gesture, Pitch tabbed the tip of a claw to the glass in order to rip the other from his musings.

‘’I asked you a question, Jack.’’

‘’It’s working quite fine, yeah.’’

In return, Pitch hummed a dry, satisfied tune, ‘’Good. Now, do you understand how this contraption works?’’ the man asked, as he tapped at the glass again for emphasis, to which Jack solemnly nodded. Promptly, Pitch laid back down and closed his eyes, clawed hands once more securely tugged under his armpits, as Jack twisted the small pendant about in his hand until the carved number of twelve pointed to the sky above - the side of the latter’s finger gliding down the round of its curving edge, as he watched the longest of the lines flicker the smallest of fractions downwards. ‘’In that case, wake me once four hours has passed.’’

Again, Jack nodded. ‘’Will it be enough though?’’ he remarked on a mumble, to which the man wordlessly hummed in an agreeing manner.

‘’I have had proper and consistent sleep for the better part of a week already. As it is, I hardly need more than five hours to fully recharge.’’

Jacks lips formed around reluctant words that would not quite form, the thoughts that would not voice themselves aloud. Why would you ask for four hours if you need five? He thought, as his jaw closed shut with an irked click. We have the time, so why would you be this annoyingly stubborn? For what exact purpose is that gonna make any sense at all?

Idly, he glared at the others closed eyelids, the scowl that stubbornly lingered on his features, until the man’s breathing deepened and eventually evened out into something slow and regular - the deep crease between Pitchs brows remaining, even in his slumber.

Idiot, Jack gruffed to himself, as he watched the others sleeping face – what a stubborn, fucking idiot.

-

Boring. That was what this entire shift was.

Nestled securely within the bare ruins of someone’s old, abandoned home, except for the gentle sway of the wind and Adrianes heavy puffs of exhaled breaths filling the stale air of the dome, it was so disturbingly quiet here. As thus, left with nothing else, but the light snores that Pitch let out from time to another to distract him with, there was not much else that Jack could do but simply wait it out. Wait and hope that the night would present itself uneventful, that the serpent would not find them, that no ravenous beast or wolf or other hunting predator would track their fleeing path through the howling snow and spring on them while they lay under the branching sway of cold, blackened crowns.

Tired, Jack closed his eyes in order to block out the same visual that had presented itself dormant for the past hour already, the dark behind his eyelids hardly doing much to combat his fright. Rationally, he knew, the covering white of the snow would have already swallowed up their leading trail, but the ‘what ifs’ and the pressing unknown of the overall path ahead, still kept dragging his thoughts around in tedious, repeated circles. Nevertheless, if one were to take into consideration that he had successfully, physically, trapped himself in close proximity with a bothersome situation, perhaps such a train of thought was still better to engage himself in than-

Biting back a groan, Jack mentally scolded himself, as the illusive focus of his own boredom slowly start to slip back into the previous hole that it had sunk in last that he had had time to think it over - the persistent debate sparking back to life with a vengeful war cry, the fleeting bits of his morality scraping itself together at the podium of his mind’s eye and pointing a crude finger towards how ludicrous this whole ordeal was.

Great, Jack loudly berated himself, as he stared back at the notorious menace wearing the peaceful face of his current tribulations. Just fucking great-

The pros and cons to what could and what might not be kept outweighing each other. Each time the decaying bird seemed to raise the proper argument, offered up the right reasons for letting the gelid colds take the dethroned king amongst its own heaving, gasping breaths of liquefied air, something else weighed in and decided against it.

And why, Jack thought, as he scowled impossibly harder and glared at the slight twitch that tugged at the side of Pitchs lip as that particular thought crossed his mind, the shadows around him jerking slightly – in the name of Celeste’s faltering justice, why was murder suddenly on the table? When the fuck had that development happened?

It was a proper solution, though, the bird hissed - it made sense.

Nah, Jack mentally settled, the nonexistent gavel in his mind banging loudly in its demand for orderly conduct, as his fingers drummed along to the small, persistent tic, tic, tic of the clock in his hand – that was dumb. A dumb idea raised by a dumb, dead bird that, politely, could very well stop pecking at the cavern of his heart in frustration right around now.

Despite that, despite the immediately appealed sentencing and the harsher one falling abruptly after being picked apart by Jacks own strengthening team of defense, the two, opposing sides of the heated debate kept chasing each other around, hurling accusations across the mental courtroom - the case settled and appealed, endlessly, maddeningly, resorting him to tear at his own hair in distress, before finally, mercifully, the longest of the two lines of the little round pendant had made its fourth race around the thorny, little circle that cradled it and really, Jack was relieved by it.

Perhaps with a tad more force than was needed, Jack woke the other with an else gentle shake to the shoulder, Pitchs gold seeming distant and confused for a beat, a sleepy haze reigning supreme in their irritated gleam, before a spark of awareness flooded back in and painted its tint in a stern, regal quiet.

Traitor, the rasping breath of the rapidly deteriorating bird taunted, as Jacks palm settled to the ground, his brow briefly knotted in concentration, as he reinforced the ice around them. Sympathizer, it cried, as a rustling of heavy cloth sounded, the dark fabrics of Pitchs robe moving, as Jack watched the man get up on one knee and raise a curious palm to examine the domes sharp bend.

Lightly, Pitch tabbed his knuckles to the side of the dome that turned away from the biting direction of the wind, the man lowly humming at whatever he decided on, before he fished out a worn hunter’s knife. Right beside him, Jacks eyes narrowed, as he recognized its design and while he could only guess for the reason as to why Claude had gifted it away, he had an inkling as to why that might be. ‘’Quite thick,’’ Pitch praised on a voice still rough and slowed by sleep, that, though it was still quite clearly impressed with the work itself, remained without any real warmth to it. Intrigued, the man’s claws danced further out, the touch courteous, polite in its curiosity, ‘’You did well, Jack.’’

And fuck, Jack gruffed to himself, the beaten gavel dangerously pointing in the general direction of the dead, cackling bird, as he willed its scathing remarks silent – the careful distance in the others estranged voice was not doing his fright any favors.

A dry scraping sounded, as Pitch placed the tip of the knife to the ice and tediously worked away at it, the man digging a small hole out at its side, the meat of his palm settling to the butt of the blades handle, before he repeatedly smacked it through the thick of the domes shielding ice.

‘’So uh,’’ Jack tried on an attempt towards mirroring the others steadfast civility, ‘’did you sleep alright?’’ The cool air that seeped in felt like a fresh relief against the stale stillness that had else taken to the dome, Jacks hands engaged in a bit of restless fidgeting around the clocks bended curve, dark obscuring his vision for all of a gut-wrenching beat, as Pitch leaned over and started to once more rummage around in order to relocate the waterskin. ‘’I mean, you don’t have to answer that but-… Just uh. Yeah, you know?’’ he settled and then proceeded to hurl the mental gavel with all his might towards the quietly snickering bird.

The brilliant glare of gold briefly glanced at Jack, one brow raised in question, before Pitch lightly shrugged - the rough edge of the waterskin’s bend placed to the impassive thin of his lip, as the other threw his head back and drained the rest of its cool contents in great, greedy chugs. The throaty growl that he let out sounded content, the skin discarded beside, before Pitch sat himself down, up against the wall of the dome, back not quite touching, but still remaining close to its icy shield. In a show of indifferent causality, Pitch scratched a hand over the side of his throat, claws ginger in their dance, before he settled the palm there and carefully cracked his neck. With forearms rested to the top of his bended knees, he shrugged. ‘’I suppose that I did, yes.’’

Jacks mouth set in an attempt towards an unbothered smile, his hand stretched out, as he handed the small clock back. ‘’Aight. Happy to hear that then,’’ he settled, to which the man briefly knotted his brow, the small clock pocketed away without looking, before Pitch huffed at the other in what was a clear dismissal towards any further, unnecessary chatter.

The proceeding silence that slithered out into the air felt heavy, the edges coated in poisoned rejection, as Jack stared back up into Pitchs gaze - the gold holding a hint of curiosity despite it keeping carefully closed off, as Jacks own shifted between them at rapid-fire speed.

It had taken time, he realized, the evening filled with attempts towards mending the torn pieces on both of their ends, but it had taken too long, the defeat secured from the start, set in stone, as Pitch had adopted the polite distance of a stranger the moment that the first hints of truth about the past had been spoken aloud and in Jacks chest, the dead bird pumped its feathered wing to the sky in hard-fought triumph and oh... Oh no.

No, this would not do, Jack thought without quite knowing what he meant by that. No, none of this would, none of this would hold- he ached, by the gods did he ache- what the fuck had even happened, it had all spiraled so fast-

The inner turmoil roared its ugly head once more, as a sense of unbearable grief so strong that Jack physically felt as though he was going to be sick again, snapped through his chest - the bones of the perished bird melting into something that could no longer keep itself tangible, the podium stationed before his mind’s eye crumbling, the fine woodworks of it catching fire, sparking bright in defeat, the flames of it scorching hot, hurting the contracted insides of his stomach, as he gave up on questioning the morality of it all.

‘’Look. Just-‘’ Jacks mouth quivered, the beat of nausea strong, as Pitchs brow knotted in hesitant suspicion at the others crude, transfixed staring. Standing at the foot of a cliff, about to scale it in order to knock on deaths door, Jack wanted this. Whatever pieces still remained, be they torn and frayed and fully unwelcomed by the dethroned king silently humming in question at him, mocking him with a knowing smirk in the face of his fears, he wanted this.

Consequences be damned, there might not be another time to think on it at all, and really, his mind was repeating itself, thoughts and defenses chasing each other around in an endless appeal that never truly seemed to go anywhere, the arguments fair, fully fleshed out and written in bright neon for him to consider, for him to abide by and yet, the beat of frightened longing rose within his chest, reigning supreme, drowning out all else, squeezing shut around his hammering heart until he could not draw air, could not breathe, his hands shaking, whole body tense, the realization that whatever they had shared had indeed come to a closure the second that he walked out that door back at the Warren and - a murderer, a tyrant, a plague-

A beloved,

In front, Pitchs brow shut up in genuine concern for his frantic state, smirk faltering in its apprehensive beat, as Jack grit out a curse of a whimper and slammed his hand hard into the ground, the slight thrum in his palm protesting the harsh treatment, stiff fingers riddled with tension, unprecise, as they fisted into the rich fabrics of Pitchs coat,

He had allowed him to get close, he could have stopped this, Pitch could have stopped this, he would have known what was coming the moment that Jack pressed himself up close and oh, the surprised noise of hunger that Pitch made in the back of his throat, as Jack squashed their mouths together in a feverish show of pure, terrified desperation did not sound disturbed - no dismissal present, as Jacks injured hand clamped down hard around the others upper arm and held on for dear life.

‘’Please,’’ Jack breathed weakly against the others lips without quite knowing what he was begging for, as a clawed hand settled to his hip, steadying him - Pitchs other holding his head in place with all the unyielding strength of a mountain, guiding him to tilt it back ever so slightly, as Jack whined and pressed back in for more.

There was nothing gentle about it, the deprived bite of it stinging, teeth crude and sharp, as Jack tried to reassure himself that the act of it did not damn him as entirely as he felt it should. Claws raked into his hair eagerly, the touch to his hip and then the small of his back drawing him in, the hold tight, Pitch seemingly as unwilling to let go as Jack himself was.

‘’Easy now,’’ Pitch rasped at him on a voice wrecked with uneasy alleviation, as Jack drew back and weakly tabbed a closed fist against the others chest in clear, frustrated despair, ‘’Easy dear heart-‘’

‘’I fucking hate you, you absolute piece of-‘’ A shudder went through Jack the moment before he cut the scathing lie short, the fist that had pressed to Pitchs collarbone quick to retrieve as though burned, before it abruptly smacked to cover his own mouth in shock – the light thrum of his singed lip protesting the pressure, the tears that he refused to shed stinging his eye, as he whimpered against it.

‘’Jack-‘’ the tone sounded strained, unsure in the sudden turn of emotion, both treading on new territory that neither quite knew the layout of. ‘’This,’’ Pitch started on a low voice, as he kept the other close atop the cover of the withered and cold foliage of the forest, the man reluctant to speak, searching for the right words to offer in the face of Jacks rapidly deteriorating state. Eventually, Pitch sighed, claws settling to the nape of Jacks neck. ‘’What is this?’’ he asked again and really, Jack did not know, he did not know, but the ache was still there, it was real, it was tearing at him, ripping his morality to shreds and scattering all of the dusted birds protests to the mercy of the winds,

‘’Fuck all Pitch-‘’ Jack wheezed on a tone entirely too scared for his own liking, his breath shuddering and shallow, burning all the way down. Gently, Pitch shushed him in an attempt to calm him even a little, Jacks frame shaking with the tension that had built up over the past weeks, over the past months really, as his hands desperately fisted in the others coat in fear that Pitch would draw back, draw away.

Claws raked back into his hair, combing through the ash-filled strands, a thumb caressed to the space just below his reddened ear, before they pressed to the back of his head and drew Jack further in,

‘’Breathe, Jack. Take your time with this.’’

Jack hid his face against the others chest, voice small and frightened, ‘’Yeah but that’s the thing though, it’s not gonna help, I can’t do this Pitch, I don’t want to do this- I don’t want to fight you when we’re this close to-’’ Jacks voice broke before he could finish, throat clenching painfully, as he tried to keep his own fright in check. ‘’So close to death. I don’t want to die, I don’t want you to die- why does it have to be us, why can’t any of this be easy, why, just why is this all so fucked-’’

The curve of Pitchs clenched jaw dug into Jacks scalp, as the man lowered his head and tugged the other closer still, flush up against a warming form. He knew that they were both too mentally worn out for this, Jack himself far too tired to think straight, to take it all in and really, the numbing effects of the vial probably did not help much on his mental turmoil either.

‘’Don’t push me away like this, not in this, not now, I get it, I get it, I’ll accept your choice if we’re through, but please-‘’ again, Pitch shushed him, the claws engaged in their soothing dance through the others hair, as Jack fought to regain some semblance of control over his rapid breathing.

Still, this was all too much to handle, Jack curled in on himself, cradled in the secure hold of warm, shielding arms, his mouth quivering, voice low, riddled with emotion, as he pressed his lips to the wicked scars littering Pitchs collarbone. ‘’I don’t want to die when it’s like this, I don’t want us to fight- I don’t-… I don’t want this to be the end,’’ weakly, Jack shook the hand that kept a firm grip of the others coat. He knew that he was wasting precious time that should have been spent on something more productive than whatever the hell was going on in his mind, but try as he might, he could not stop it all from slipping out in a fit of restless, nervous energy.

Pitch hushed him on a thoughtful hum, the tunes of it sounding riddled with sudden understanding, the rushing press of dark shade fanning up over the curve of Jacks tremoring spine, the insistent claws careful, as they raked through the others white strands in an attempt to resolve his fright. ‘’It is not too late for you to leave,’’ Pitch offered on a voice completely void of any judgement, to which Jacks brow twitched, the fingers that held to the man’s fabrics tightening to the point of pain. Roughly, Jack shook his head, as he trembled against the other in a fit of frayed nerves,

‘’No, I stand with you in this,’’ Jack insisted on a rough huff of a breath, throat cleared in a pained rumble around the lump that constricted it, a gruff, little hic escaping him, as his whole body shuddering at the careful caress of claws that found his cheek and settled there. ‘’Whatever happens, I’m going with. I’ll stand by you in this. I meant that when I said it. I’ve meant all of it. I still do.’’

Softly, Pitch hummed at that. ‘’Forgive me this crudeness,’’ he pressed on a voice carefully low and gentle, the rhythm slow as to not spook him further and fuck if it did not twist something in Jacks heart. ‘’But if such is the case, then I must insist that we let this conversation lie for the night.’’

‘’But I-‘’

‘’I meant the frights of our peril,’’ Pitch softly interjected Jack on a voice that sounded as stern as the latter knew his determination to be. Below, cradled close to the bend of Jacks clenched jaw, the claws that had settled to his cheek forced his head to part from its hiding press, the brilliant glare of gold burning, harsh and insistent, as it locked with Jacks own. ‘’And now, kindly, listen to me in this. Listen close and understand what I am telling you,’’ a clawed hand settled to the back of the others neck, the shade snaking around his chest, wrapping his shoulders in the comfort of a caring, thorough touch, as it kept him close in their sweeping sway of semi-solid nothing. ‘’I am not used to having people see past my title. Pardon me for my ignorance in this matter, but this is all a bit of a surprise.’’ Pitch said, head inclined ever so slightly to the side, as his molten gold narrowed, ‘’Do not doubt that I currently have trouble believing the true mercies that come with such a gift. And yet, be this nothing but a traumatized product of the solemn situation that we find ourselves in, so be it, with gratitude, I will take it for all that it is worth.’’

Rapidly, Jack blinked, brow knotted, as the tip of his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth with a renewed sense of crushing relief. ‘’What are you saying with that exactly? What does any of that even mean?’’

He knew. By the gods, he knew, but the damned bird was assembling itself out of its fallen ashes, the mental gavel already raised in defense against its howling remarks-

‘’If you wish to be in my arms, then I shall keep you here for as long as I am able,’’ Pitch reassured on a voice shaken by a slight disbelief that such a thing could even be possible. ‘’Trust me in this and rest for now. Rest and prepare so that me may both live to see the sun ascend upon my lands in the spring, in the summer, and for all of the years that are to come.’’

Jack remained quiet for a beat, a small smile that held only the fleetest hints of hesitant joy spreading across his face, as he thought the prospect over. ‘’That sounds awfully poetic,’’ he remarked and then proceeded to practically melt into the others hold, the old beat of intimacy back, showing itself between the protective curl of shade that Jack had no desire to split from, as Pitch kissed him deep in order to make him shut up already.

And still, with the fight descending on them, closing in with every subtle tic of the small clock hidden away, Jack did not want to stay in this. Did not want to do this, to be a part of it all despite them being so close to the finishing line, but the alternative carried an outcome far more horrible than what he could quite bear to entertain. No, he could not run from this. Did not want to run from it, despite the expectations being too much for him to handle, too grand, without quite knowing what they were truly up against.

Idly, Pitch seemed to understand the insistent frights that came attached with such a judging sentiment, the man’s sigh a slow, shaky huff of breath against Jacks grinning mouth, before he pressed a kiss to what he could reach of the latter’s temple - the angle entirely off, but still, regardless of that, the small affection sent a wave of crashing calm through Jack. Pitchs arm snaked around, pressing close, holding him fast, holding him together, as Jacks trembling finally started to subside,

‘’Rest now, my dear heart,’’ Pitch implored him on a voice filled with nothing but a promise for the victorious success, that neither of them could rightfully promise one another. ‘’Rest if you can. Rest, and see this all through in the morning.’’

And perhaps, Jack mused to himself, eyes locked to the blur of the moving dome, as the clawed hands holding him close carefully tipped him back and pinned his form against the rough, cool flooring of the dormant forest, another kiss claiming his mouth, before Pitch spun them both and pressed Jack back up against Adrianes warmth - perhaps it really was as absurd as the dusted particles of the deceased bird insisted that it were. Perhaps, it did indeed damn him entirely, thoroughly, and yet, despite the insistent press that he was being selfish in the face of something, that he should have never meddled in to begin with, Jack could not quite manage to muster up the anger, nor any further care for the fact, that he had only lasted mere hours, before accepting the fine print of what lay before, the truth of the others nature, the red whispers of cruelty cradled around the bend of his abused wrists,

Defeated, he tangled a leg into Pitchs, Jack wrapped in the blissful warmth of what he had come to care for, as a clawed hand kept to the strands of his hair, raking through and making him awfully sleepy. Eyelids heavy, fighting to stay open, before they finally gave up and fluttered shut, he just barely caught the quiet breath that Pitch drew, the man seeming unsure if Jack would hear him or not, ‘’I will not hold it against you if you ultimately decide to leave. I will not attempt to halt you. I would understand,’’ The careful tending continued, the tips of claws soothing, quieting his thoughts, as Pitch sighed deep, the tunes and gravity of it bone-crushingly tender ‘’By the gods, my heart, I would understand.’’

Jack had no answer for that. In its own sense, he supposed, he did not want to answer such a repetitive proposition.

A kiss found his cheek, the small clock retrieved and checked for the time, before Pitch hummed and carefully, as slow as was possible as to not rouse Jack from his descend into slumber, embraced the other close and settled himself a bit more comfortable on the harsh cover of the ground. Again, it got quiet, the thick silence, which settled to the dome only disturbed by the wind that howled and roared and made the withered branches of the trees sway and creak with its unrelenting force.

Five hours until the sun would rise, Jack reckoned, as Pitch kept guard over the small party through the second watch of the night. Five hours stuck in that cramped little space, before everything would finally set in motion for what may very well be the last time ever.

Come whatever may, as it had been him advised, and left with no other option than to abide by the gentle demand, Jack mercifully managed to drift off, as an uneasy sleep claimed him.

Chapter Text

With a groan stuffed in his throat, Jack woke to a subtle tapping against the domes sloping wall.

Inside, it had grown significantly warmer than it had been the night before, but still, it was hardly enough to completely be considered comfortable. Idly, as he yawned deep, he peeked an eye open and stared up at the source of disturbance; the dark blue silhouette of what appeared a bird pecking at the small opening in the dome.

A sharp, slender shard in the ice broke off, as it suffered under the repeated beat of the unrelenting beak, letting the pale rays of winter’s morning sun in and in return, Jack immediately squinted against the light, hand held to his temple, as the headache from yesterday came back and made itself known with a raging vengeance.

‘’Fuck,’’ Jack sourly gruffed in a form of greeting, as the pleasant warmth against him moved to extend a clawed hand out towards the small critter, which had managed to squeeze its colourful head, and subsequently the entirely of its lean body, through the narrow opening in the dome.

A fluttering of wings sounded, the little bird landing perfectly on the back of the man’s hand, feathers fluttering to dispel any lingering ice from its frame, as it held one of its tiny little legs out and politely stayed in place, until Pitch had managed to carefully remove the scrap of paper tied to it.

The golden eyes were swift, as Pitch read the message over, the man mumbling something too low and stern for Jack to catch, the former’s brow furrowed, before he hummed softly in acknowledgement to the shrill peep that the impatient critter of an intruder let out.

‘’Bad news?’’ Jack asked on a raspy tone, as he sat up, another insistent yawn quickly stifled between lightly grit teeth, just as Pitch brought the clawed hand that the bird perched on up close to his mouth,

‘’No,’’ Pitch simply replied, a hint of something wicked flashing beneath his elated grin. ‘’It is quite the opposite.’’ Promptly, Jack had to suppress an unpleasant shudder, as the thought of the others teeth biting into the birds hollow bones came to mind. A tad stiffly, Jack shook his head to clear the visage, as in front of him, Pitch did nothing more than whisper a short, stern reply in that strange, foreign language of his, to whatever the message had entailed. The black, beady eye of the bird blinked once, twice in apparent understanding, its head vanishing under its outstretched wing for a beat, before it did a little jiggle that had Pitch shaking his head in a soft dismissal.

Again, its little eye blinked, slower this time, its beak opening thrice, as it let out a clear tune in a burst of shortly chimed intervals.

Quietly, they both watched it take off and out into the cramped air of the dome, the little butt and a single trapped leg of the bird struggling, wriggling about in a mad show of experienced strength and pure dedication towards completing the mission, before it managed to slip back out through the narrow hole from which it had come.

Impressive, Jack decided that entire feat to be, as he heard it fly away and out into the open air beyond the shielding frame of the dome – impressive and a little disconcerting.

‘’All of our own have survived the serpent,’’ Pitch spoke, a happy gleam present in his molten gold, as he circled his clawed hands once, before carefully cracking his knuckles. ‘’All have made it safely to the forest in which Aster wished for us to attend in council.’’

‘’It’s quite a far distance from here, yeah?’’

A tad stiffly, Pitch shrugged, as he gently cracked his neck as well. ‘’It is not an awfully long stretch to cover all things considered, but yes, it will indeed take us most of the day. If all goes well, then we should be there just before sundown.’’

Quietly, Jack nodded his head at that, his own palm settling to the ground, as he hauled himself up into a sitting position. Judging from the pale dim of the light outside, that was still quite a while from now, but considering that the sun had started to shine upon the tops of the withered crowns above and not in between the trunks directly-

‘’Wait, how long did you let me sleep?’’ Jack asked with a suspicious tone present, as he looked to the conspiring gleam in the others eye that easily found his still rather sleepy own.

‘’Seven hours.’’

Hardly morning anymore then, Jack mentally deducted - but that still left them with far more than enough time to complete the travel and catch up with the others. Grateful for the obvious gift that had allowed him guarded rest in the middle of what was potentially hostile territory, Jack smirked at that, as he simultaneously squashed the meat of his palm to the space just above his left eye in an attempt to clear the worst of his insistent headache. In front, Pitch narrowed his golden gaze, the man’s smile taking on a slightly thinned hint, as he noted the others pained response from the feat.

‘’How is your head?’’

‘’Better, thank you. It’s not all that bad really, I think I just need air to clear the last of it.’’ Jack reassured, to which, satisfied, Pitch nodded, the man’s tone sincere and content, as he let out a swift, single,

‘’Good.’’

It was quiet for a long-felt, contemplating minute, the wind outside barely making any noise, as Jacks gaze found and tracked the shimmer of a thick, blue vein hiding itself amongst the pure white of his taxing, nocturnal work.

‘’Hey Pitch,’’ Jack started, easily gaining the others full attention again, though the others hum still sounded a great deal distracted by whatever thoughts that the man had likewise engaged himself in. ‘’Sorry for punching you last night.’’

The gold widened for a beat, a burst of fleeting emotion, a flash of something raw and honest with a hint of uncertainty passing through the others gaze - gone too quick for Jack to decipher, vanished, evaporated under the slight sun, as though it had never been there to begin with.

A hesitant smile broke out on Pitchs face then, the small laugh that greeted the other in turn sounding as tired as it was thoroughly amused, Jack silent, relieved by the easy weight in the gesture, as a clawed hand settled to the bend of his shoulder. As Pitch snatched him close and merely held him tight, Jacks own hands found their way around a warm middle and held on - the rough, clinging dirt of the dormant forests’ cover digging into his shins as he moved, whole body thrumming with a happy beat, at the feel of the breathy sigh that ghosted across the side of his neck.

‘’Thaw the dome, Jack.’’

‘’I’m not sure if I actually can.’’

The arm around him relented slow, claws grazing the bend of Jacks upper arm, before Pitchs fingers pressed to the thick of the shielding ice in thought. The top part seemed the most fragile, the ice haven melted a fraction under the slight warmth of the sun and idly, claws tabbed to the ice, the tips of them seemingly searching for any weaknesses, before, on a little huff, Pitch threw a thoroughly impressed grin down at Jack,

‘’How much energy did this take you to make?’’ Pitch asked, as he moved, clawed hand quick to snatch out and locate the bag that held only a few apples left and the remnants of what Jack reckoned was once a lump of now crushed up, but still eatable bread. ‘’In the poor condition that you were in yesterday, did this cost you a lot?’’ Pitch pressed, as he handed one of the apples and the maybe-bread over, before wrapping the sturdy fabric of the bag around his right hand, the lid of it folded twice beneath his claws.

‘’I mean, I guess it did? But I don’t think I’d really feel it at all now, if you asked me to make another right away.’’ Jack replied on a slight, unsure shrug, teeth quick to bite into the sweet relief of the ripe apple, just as Pitch drew his covered fist back to his chin, before striking it hard at a specific part of the domes sloping shape.

Once, the man punched at that same spot, the ice cracking ever so slightly under the abuse, as Pitch whistled a low tune in thought. Then, his elbow smacked into it twice, then thrice in a quick, rapid succession, the beating continuing, until a significant portion of the side of it broke off completely. ‘’So if asked, could you perform the feat of constructing an entire wall with little to no energy lost for such?’’ he asked, as he settled his shoulder to the expanded opening in the ice and stemmed against it until it gave way with a clear, dry snap.

‘’Ah yeah, that-‘’ Jack roughed, just as Pitch, while being mindful not to cut himself, wrapped his clawed hands around the sides of the opening that he had created and hauled himself out. ‘’I’m not sure if I can just do it out of the blue if that’s what you mean. If I get to concentrate on it though, then maybe.’’ Jack settled, as he accepted the hand that reached for him, as Pitch dropped the flattened bag and turned to help him through the small opening, the man’s claws careful, as they curled around the bend of his scratched up knuckles. ‘’Or actually… Yeah. Now that I think about it, I think I can. I think I could do that.’’

Once outside, Pitch, after haven made sure that Jack had regained his footing after a light, short-felt dizzy-spell, stretched his arms over his head and rolled his shoulders about, the breath that he drew deep and elated, golden eyes skimming out over the sparse growth covering the landscape around them, before he twisted to grab and tug at the parts of the domes wall, which still kept Adriane entrapped.

It took a good minute to clear enough of the ice, but eventually, after Jack had joined in and done his best to break and tear at the chilled fruits of his own creation, their combined efforts showed themselves successful.

So far so good.

Pitch offered up the second apple to Adriane, the mare quick to chomp it up and practically devour it whole, after she had, rather keenly, roughed a misty breath out into the chilled air and gingerly accepted it from the mans outstretched hand. Right beside, Jack stabbed his heel into the fresh snow covering the ground, before craning his neck to look to the grey sky above.

Perfectly clear, Jack mused, as he noted the lack of any clouds covering the infinite expanse – which meant that whatever trail they left behind, would stay there for a while. Frowning, he quickly managed to locate his source from amongst the icy shards and chunks that made up the broken wall of the ruined dome.

They would be easy to track, far too exposed in their travels really, if anyone were to set out and look for them-

‘’Do not worry for it,’’ Pitchs growly voice insisted right beside him, as the man threw him a look that properly meant to be reassuring, but only managed towards slight annoyance instead. ‘’If anyone had wanted us hunted dead through the night, then it would already have happened.’’

‘’That doesn’t mean it’s not a thing that can’t happen now though.’’

On a hum, Pitch inclined his head ever so slightly, the man’s gold moving, as they both watched Adriane stalk off to drink from the nearby river visible just beyond where the thick of the trees started to blur together into one, entire mass of grey, dormant trunks,

‘’Be that as it may, I have an inkling that our travel will be conducted in peace.’’

Perplexed, and more than a little curious, Jack looked up at Pitch with a raised brow. ‘’Is that a thing we’re gonna count on though? An inkling? Just like that? Is that really enough for us to not be on guard?’’ he pressed on a voice riddled with the need to argue for how lame a course that was, and in return, Pitch softly snorted, the man’s head shaking in strained amusement, as he reached out a hand, claws teasing in their dance, as they caressed into the small hairs on the back of Jacks neck.

‘’Have you heard me say that we do not need to be mindful of our surroundings?’’

On another little shrug, Jack grabbed the clawed hand from where its knuckles had set to lightly ghost across the side of his throat, Jack insistent, as he instead stuffed the definitely-bread into the hand that he had trapped. Sternly, he held his own up in warning, a single finger wagging, before the other could as much as get the chance to open his mouth and reject the clear demand in Jacks conviction,

‘’Eat the fucking thing and let’s just get going, yeah?’’

--

The wind kicked up significantly, as the day progressed, the biting touch a pleasant caress against Jacks face, blissfully cold against the exposed parts of his neck, and what of his arms remained bare due to the generous tears in his sleeves.

In the end, he reckoned, he had hardly needed to worry for the tracks that they left behind – the sweeping sway of the undisturbed snow quick to kick up and swallow any dent or depression whole.

The arm around him wound tight, claws pressed to the skin above his heart, keeping him secure, as Adriane shot over the lands at record speed.

An elated little laugh left Jack at the wild, carefree dash that she had engaged in, his eye kept out for any spark of coloured flame that might show itself on the great open that stretched out around them, his source gripped tight, staff splitting the air beside, as he brought the winds up behind and let them aid her in her forwarded gallop.

A smirk was pressed to the side of his cold neck at that, a beat of appreciation present in Pitchs smile, as the man lowered his head, brought Jack up close and pressed a clumsy, hasty kiss to what he could reach of the others cheek.

This was good, Jack mused, as Adriane, seemingly spurred on by the change in pressure against her front, upped the pace into something hard and swift enough that it briefly stole the breath from Jacks awed lungs - This felt gentle in its carefree nature and for just a moment, a fleeting burst of time that neither would ever regain, Jack could almost convince himself that it was not death that they were heading towards.

Hours passed like that, hours where nothing but the great plains of wide, empty fields of white showed themselves, before finally, the edge of a grand forest came into view straight ahead. Here, Pitch urged Adriane to slow, the thundering of her hooves through the snow lessened, as they made their way in amongst the magnificent trunks of the enormous trees.

-

Jack swung his legs back and forth in the empty air below him, a hand curled for balance around one of the thick beams that reached across the, else for the snow that had gathered to the bottom and up the hinted walls, vacant space of what was no doubt meant to become a living room someday. The large structure of a house still being build, the whispers of an assembled skeleton sticking out of the ground and in between the trunks of the trees in long, carefully placed lines. Granted, he was not entirely certain as to what Bunnymund was aiming for with the general oval shape that he had set out to craft, but the care put into the illusive design was obvious nonetheless.

With teeth biting into winter berries and what edible roots that the good doctor had managed to dig forth out of the cold, hardened ground, the taste of them something horrid, but still doing a decent job at stilling the worst of the insistent hunger, Jack let his eyes glide over to where Pitch and Pippa were standing a little ways away from the rest of the reunited group.

Something passed between them, a grey little pouch riddled with fine, silvery embroidery, Pitch looking unsure, the man hesitant to accept the offering pressed into his hand. The dream sand, Jack realized, as Pippa gestured at the ghoul and then back at Pitch himself with an insistency trapped in her eye that spoke of years of fierce debate and gentler chatter, the order for him to keep the little pouch clear in the manner of which she poignantly circled a hand out by her own head for effect.

A beat passed, the radiance of gold still reluctant, filled with the need to argue, before finally, the gift was accepted on a stiff nod and in front, Pippa smiled at the small victory.

Another little beat passed, the wind's howling gentle as it whipped through the trees as the two chatted away, before the flow in conversation had Pippa placing a hand to her stomach, blooming gaze so full of wonder and happiness that it bit and scratched at something in Jacks chest. A moment of stillness was shared between them, Pitch looking confused by whatever she had said, the fingers that moved so delicately to reveal the barely noticeable bump.

The naked branches of the dormant trees creaked with a haunting cry, the pale rays of the prolonged winter’s sun peeking between the covers of pristine clouds, as finally, the shoe seemed to drop.

Pitchs gold widened, surprised, as he grasped a hand to her shoulder, whatever words he spoke passing into the air softly, urgently, the pressing questions gentle in their need to know, to which Pippa wiped at her eye and nodded a firm ‘yes’ to whatever it was that he had asked. Another beat of stunned quiet passed, before Pitch drew her forward, into a tight embrace that she wholeheartedly returned, a clawed hand settling behind her head, whispered words of reassurance and barely contained excitement pressed against the bend of her reddened ear.

Again, Pippa nodded, as she, despite the obvious happiness, choked on the frightened tears that she could not quite keep down, the uncertainty of how such a predicament would play itself out when one did not know the path ahead weighing down what should else have been a cause for celebration. Her arms shook around Pitchs middle, face buried in the thick fabrics of his coat and really, Jack felt as if he was intruding, whatever words were still being shared between them too private for him to engage in, and so, he politely averted his gaze, only to find Claude as equally enthralled in the heartfelt blessings, and what was subsequently a farewell as well.

The dry twig that Jack worried between his hands broke with a dry snap, as he bended it a bit too far. Instead, his gaze travelled out, finding a brief distraction in the working hands of the good doctor – the framing dash of colour that he drew across Toothianas closed eyelids, in-between her brows and down the bridge of her nose looking fierce on her else peaceful face.

The sharp edges of her twin swords glinted in the pale light.

A sigh escaped him,

Curiosity winning, out of the corner of his eye, Jack noted the moment that Pippa let go and stepped back, the clawed hand still firmly clasped to her shoulder pressing with all the reassurance that it could muster, as she wiped her cheeks and smiled wetly at whatever promise sealed itself from between Pitchs thin, determined lips.

From the stiff nod that she gave in return, while direct, it had not been optimistically disillusioned to their reality.

Off to the pairs side, the brush that Bunnymund wielded lowered, painted tip vanishing from view, as he put it away and stood, a hand extended to help Toothiana stand as well. Caleb and Cupcake spared a short glance between them then, a serious heaviness present in their passing nod, before they followed suit and likewise rose.

Seemingly as one, as though sensing the change in atmosphere, the rest of the gathered did as well.

-

‘’Well?’’ Toothiana started, after she had hauled herself up into the saddle of the light grey mare that she had snatched for her own. ‘’Do you understand what you have to do? How to proceed?’’ here she looked to Cupcake, Pippa, Monty and the two brothers alike. ‘’After making your way to the chasm. Do you understand your instructions from there?’’

‘’Perfectly,’’ Caleb answered her on a voice void of any fear, as the others stiffly nodded as well.

‘’And if gates remain closed?’’ North chimed in from his own place upon a dark-brown steed.

‘’Then we force our way through the barricade regardless as no guards should be present,’’ Pippa responded, to which, slightly left and in front, Toothiana sternly nodded in affirmation.

‘’And if any guards do show themselves positioned despite the ruined foundation of its burned borders?’’ she pressed.

‘’Then we do what we must,’’ Claude roughed on a tone that sounded far too eager for what such a prospect entailed. Beside him, both Caleb and Cupcake nodded in equaled willingness. Again, Toothiana nodded.

‘’Good,’’ she praised, the hint of a smile playing on her lip, as she raised a closed fist to the unarmored space above her heart. ‘’Now. Godspeed to you all. Do not hesitate to do what must be done. Do not linger. No collectors that you may meet upon your way would take your word at face value, nor would they pass up such a perfect opportunity for great violence.’’

Last chance, Jack

Briefly, Caleb and North locked eyes, the latter nodding in a way that seemed pressing in the wake of the speakers serious words. ‘’Offer still stand,’’ North stressed with a raised, fuzzy brow in a hushed manner that spoke of hope, but acceptance towards a dismissal, towards whatever it was that he meant by that. Softly, Caleb shook his head in a clear decline.

No, Jack pressed back, the hand not busy clutching his source finding the bend of Pitchs wrist and holding on – I’m coming with

‘’I go with my brother,’’ Caleb replied, as he held Norths gaze. ‘’Where he goes, I’m gonna go as well. Besides, your walls aren’t safer than the outdoors’ at the moment. No offense of course,’’ he added the last part with a slight urgency to his tone, as in front, Bunnymunds hands started to impatiently fiddle with the worn leather of the reins that the man held, a sneer dancing across his irked features. Softly, Norths lip jerked up into a merry, reassuring smile.

‘’None taken.’’

A beat of quiet passed, another taking its place, before the fist that held to Toothianas chest finally fell back by her side, fingers on the other worrying at the fabrics of the little pouch that she clutched. ‘’Godspeed,’’ she said again with a lowered head, the genuine warmth in her voice not faltering despite the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the group. ‘’Whatever may happen, I wish you all nothing but luck and fortune on your forwarded path,’’ she said and then lower, tone dropping from more emotion than Jacks own heart had the will nor courage to decipher between, utter a single, stead-fast,

‘’Farewell.’’

-

The reins were snatched up and ready, half of the group already long departed in the opposite direction, as Bunnymund rendered the traveled distance of the other enough to engage with the more medical part of the preparation. Each of the ones left retrieved their own little vial that had been them gifted out and swiftly consumed them.

All except for one that was, Jack still having yet to find his own, the hand that was wrecked by a stubborn stiffness digging about in the pocket of his vest until finally, he managed to retrieve the embroidered pouch out of its confines. He fiddled with the laces tying it shut, nails digging into the fine strands until it yielded under his nudging fingertips-

Immediately, eyes snapped to the radiant glare of gold in horror, as he found the else sturdy glass crushed, contents lost and long since evaporated. The small smile that flashed in return to that seemed tired, edges coated in something tense despite the calm tone that spoke to reassure him, ‘’It is but an inconveniency. Do not worry for it,’’ Pitch said as he turned his head towards Bunnymund. ‘’Have we a spare?’’

The good doctor’s gaze seemed serious, as he noted the problem, the gleam in his eye forlorn, the shake of his head genuinely apologetic in the face of what that meant. ‘’None,’’ Bunnymund replied, tone gruff and firm as he, with a raised hand jerked in a forwarded motion, ordered them moving again.

How bad is this gonna be? Jack pressed through, as he put the sad remains of the broken vial away and redirected his gaze forwards again, eyes skimming the sway of withered branches above – Honestly, what am I up against here? Is it gonna be worse than what you’ve already put me through in your sessions?

The branches groaned from the sharp breeze that swept through, little pops and snaps loud, making the snow dance in great heaps of white, as they made it to the edge and out of the magnificent body of massive, dormant trees.

Behind, as Jack dared a peek, the radiant gold had barely lost its brilliant hue.

‘’I cannot say,’’ Pitch said, voice hushed but honest, as the hand that held the reins allowed them slack in order to settle to the space above Jacks heart, claws skimming the, still intact, colourful pendant that rested amongst its attached chains.

In return, Jack grit his teeth. He could only hope that it was not a bad omen.

Idly, he willed himself to focus on nothing but the clawed hand that pressed him close, Jack managing it for the better part of an hour, before a burst of frightened nerves had him clutching it in his cold grip. Firmly, Pitch squeezed back as he leaned down, lip skimming his ear, raven hair tickling his cheek, the deep purr of velvet a sweet balm to Jacks racing heart,

‘’Count each of your breaths, Jack. Count each breath and search for your righteous anger,’’ Pitch implored. ‘’Let it consume you. Let it fuel you. Let it overshadow your fear. See that anger victorious in your heart. Panic will do you no good. It will not aid you in this endeavor.’’

‘’Yeah that’s not helping,’’ Jack joked, the tone a tad too thin for his own liking, as he laughed a scared, shrill tune in return. Merely, the arm around him squeezed in return.

‘’No one rides into battle with a heart clear of fright, Jack. Be it fright for themselves, their loved ones or their comrades, it will always linger. There is no shame in that.’’

A light shiver of nervous energy raced down his spine, as Jack felt Pitchs mouth press to his ear, bottom lip sliding across its shell in the soft caress of a kiss. ‘’Whatever drives you, whatever passion that can guide you through this, make use of it. Keep your hand steady. Your head high,’’ he said. ‘’We bleed. We love,’’ the arm around Jack tightened, claws tangled in the chains that they pressed to, before, in a voice that descended into a throaty growl towards the end, added, ‘’We are mortal, Jack. We are mortal, but so is our foe.’’

In a nonverbal reply, Jacks head fell back against the others chest, eyes squeezed shut, as his palm found its way around Pitchs forearm and held on for dear life. Lost for words, head numbed by fear, hands wrecked by tremors, he remained in silence, the ride conducted in the hushed quiet that had settled over them all, as they drew ever nearer, each field crossed bringing with it a sense of calm clarity to the group.

Calm. The calm before the storm,

Truly, he did not know if he was the storm or if such was what he was approaching.

Willing himself to keep the thoughts of his sister in mind, as they rode until the sun rose and made its way halfway across to the opposite side of the horizon, Jack felt the most immediate of the fright start to wither. The fear still tangible, but there was a rhythm to the mess, a center to the storm, an eye of calm where nothing touched despite the clear chaos that raged around its circular edge. If he could not do this for himself, then he would do it for her. Give the next generation a chance of a proper life. A decent existence. A respectful one removed from the frights that came with living under a blooming dictator.

‘’Good,’’ Pitchs deep velvet of a rasp praised in his ear, as the man noted the change in his heartbeat, the determined fire that stoked itself awake beneath the terror. ‘’Keep that resolve in mind and use it when the time comes,’’ he urged, to which Jack merely squeezed his hand tight in a nonverbal reply.

Minutes passed, a near hour going by before ahead, the first peek of rough brick, steel and stone and glass and other materials that Jack did not recognize started to show itself. A fortress they had said. A shifting construction with walls that moved and entrances that disappeared. That statement still held true, but it had not prepared him for its wicked design, the layout itself sharp, edges seeming impregnable by their absurd angles.

With eyes that stung, Jack squinted against the impossible structure that lay ahead, gaze honing in on one particular part of the massive stretch of what was both a wall, a window and a door all morphed into one, mind confused by where to look, where the whole thing started and another came to an end,

Was that a spike of rough brick or an entire, spiraling tower that rose up at one of the far corners of the roof?

‘’What in the hell,’’ Bunnymund roughed from his own place at the front of the group, his steed nervously stabbing at the hard soil of the ground with its hooves, the man’s own brow furrowed, expression as serious as the ones mirrored all around him, as the reality of the situation truly started to sink in. ‘’Wait, is that?’’

There, ahead, Jack too noted the telltale light browns of a terracotta pot filled with what looked like crisp peonies covered in a light layer of snow, a square of bright, rough wool placed out beside it, in what was obviously an attempt towards a doormat despite there being no immediate door in front of it.

‘’Celeste’s tits,’’ Bunnymund roughed on in a disbelieving tone, as Sanderson peeked up as well to take the whole thing in, as much as such a feat could be possible in the first place. ‘’That’s,’’ the good doctor tried, before having to stop for a breath that sounded both amused and incredulous in the face of the perverse attempt towards normalcy. ‘’Ah mate what, that’s just wrong,’’ he grumbled, head shaking in disbelief, as his eyes stayed fixed to the space just above the snow-covered flowers. Lightly, North barked a laugh, the merry sound booming from its perplexed state, as he too noticed the 'welcome' sign that hung from two interwoven threads of rusted iron.

Somehow, that little addition alone seemed the most absurd out of the spiraling mess of impressive proportions. No, Jack reckoned, as he heard Pitch lightly hum behind him in a contemplating manner - this was a mock imitation of a home. A mimicry from what such was supposed to be.

‘’There is an opening to the far left,’’ Pitch remarked, the brilliant glare of gold narrowed, as it surveyed the ground in front of them and up to the point that he had noticed. ‘’Beside the dents that look as if an attempt towards a rose window. The shadows bend inwards enough to indicate a passage.’’

Beside Pitch, North likewise hummed, the man settling a hand to his belly, as his laughter slowly died out. ‘’Can you tell where leads to?’’

A tad peeved, Pitch shook his head. ‘’I am afraid not.’’

This time, it was Toothianas time to chime in, ‘’Any other ideas?’’ she urged, as she looked about with narrowed eyes, gaze tracing up what looked an equilateral arch. ‘’Or are we going all in on one specific point that we are not certain will even take us inside?’’

‘’Oh, it is going straight in indeed,’’ Pitch rasped, as he ordered Adriane forwards through the light covering of trees at a slow, deliberate advance. ‘’As to where in the layout, I cannot tell.’’

Lightly, North clucked his tongue. ‘’I can burst wall if need be,’’ he roughed, as he petted a hand to his coat pocket, the subtle glow of the globe that he retrieved out of it a stark contrast against his clutching palm. ‘’We still have upper hand.’’

‘’For now,’’ Bunnymund agreed, as he locked eyes with Toothiana and then glanced at Sanderson who merely shrugged in return.

‘’Well then,’’ Toothiana chimed in, as she too directed her gaze back in front, tone slightly annoyed as she continued. ‘’Do we have any better ideas or is this our main point of breach?’’

‘’We still-‘’

‘’We are running out of time Aster,’’ Toothiana interrupted Bunnymund, her lips thinning, as she squared her shoulders and drew a sharp, shallow breath. ‘’This structure,’’ here, she gestured out at the swirling mess of bricks and rock and glass with a nod of her head ‘’is impossible to navigate already. Debating where to go will not aid us much in this debacle,’’ she stressed. ‘’Besides, the longer we linger, the grander the chances are of us being spotted and slimming our odds in return even further,’’ she clipped. ‘’So, with that in mind, are we charging for this point, or do you see another possible entrance of use?’’ she challenged with a raised brow that none sans for North noticed from his close position.

The wind whipped up from behind them, making the withered foliage around them shake in its pressing wake, kicking up the snow in light flurries, Jack glad for the compliance, as Bunnymund seemed to cave. On a grumble, the good doctor confirmed as much, ‘’We take it.’’

It was on. They were on.

‘’Fuck,’’ Jack breathed on a slightly hysterical note and realized that he had said it aloud. Behind him, Pitch lightly snorted.

‘’Well then, if it is all the same to you,’’ Pitch implored with an air of finality, as he, while wasting no further beats, urged Adriane to leave the sporadic cover of trees behind. Jack clenched his teeth and willed his heart to calm its hammering state, the tremoring hand tightened around his source, the moving hooves below set in a light gallop, which quickly descended into a thundering sprint straight towards their possible doom.

Gods,

The circular dents of the abstract rose window came into view at disturbing speed, Norths hand raised and ready, the little globe that he clutched glowing with intent,

No way back now.

Chapter Text

The wall burst in a flash of green flame, sparks and debris, the whole thing collapsing in on itself, torn apart, as the glass shattered on impact. Leaving a crater of muted pastels behind, the rough outline of the created passive narrow, but just slight enough to slip through unscathed.

Immediately, Pitch drew Adriane to the left, Jack feeling the floorboards starting to give way from the sheer weight of her moving form, as the mares thundering hooves galloped through the long, impossibly prolonged hallway laying just inside. The party racing through a giant room with nothing but books and dusty couches, before they made it to the other end and out into the similarly connecting hallways lined with identical doors and grand, impressive vaults making up the twisted space of the ceilings above.

Multiple chandeliers cast the space in bright, flickering lights. Nooks and alcoves that had not felt the fresh kiss of air for what appeared centuries hugging the curving walls. The surroundings gliding by at a pace too quick for Jack to keep up with, as Pitch, seemingly driven by instinct alone for the direction needed, drove Adriane as fast as she would go through the winding layout. Head down in preparation, the arm around his middle tight and anchoring, Jack clenched his teeth in preparation at the realization that she was meant to crash right through the carved door at the end. As though reading his thought, Pitch affirmed as much,

‘’Brace yourself, Jack,’’ the hushed note of velvet hissed in his ear with all the sense of urgency that the situation bestowed trapped in its core. ‘’We are close.’’

That slight tug of something, that meant that Jamie was near, registered in Jack’s chest the moment before the reached door in front burst outwards in a sea of sharp, splintering wood. The shards flying, crashing to the floor in a cacophony of rough, hollow thunks.

The three men inside all looked up as one - Jamie’s wide eyes snapping too as well, the little earl’s shoulders taut. As squared as the rest of his alerted posture became, his expression that of one clearly taken by surprise, as he slowly lowered the letter that he held in his hand.

A confused little ‘oh’ falling from his rapidly thinning lips.

Weapons drawn and ready in halted hands, the near silence that descended over the room for a tense, baffled beat was nearly thick enough to cut through. The huffing of the mares loud. Dancing dust ghosting in a circle around the busted door and beneath restless hooves.

Bunnymund barked a crude, biting laugh in disbelief then, as the realization slowly sunk in,

Jamie had not been prepared for them to show up in such a daring fashion-

Pitch was the first to jerk into motion, as Jamie’s mouth twitched into a strained, dour expression – the latter’s arm snapping out in a circular gesture with clear intent. The shocked men at his sides belatedly doing their best to get out of the way in a flurry of moving limbs, as the wall beside the trio vibrated to the point of it rattling, the frame jerking violently, as the little earl took three steps backwards with an ever increasing sneer.

Oh no you don’t-

The whole thing came undone, tearing itself apart from floor to ceiling - the gutted insides of wood and iron exploding out, warping around Jamie in a manner that left him without a scratch in the untouched center that he had created.

A throaty growl sounded behind Jack,

Pitch’s hand flexed around the metal that he held, the other digging into Jack’s ribs with punishing strength, as the curved edge of the scythe rose up in a blur to shield them both - the resulting sweep of solid darkness that the man called forth obscuring their vision, directing the majority of the torn remains to the side. Some crashing into the wall behind, some continuing further down the hall from which they had come, but most importantly,

Out of the way.

Still, impeded as Pitch's charms were, it was not enough. Jack feeling the hot burn of the line that licked across his cheek unhindered, as a piece of wood, a nail, or something similar, brushed them by.

In the meantime, the dust was left to settle.

‘’Where the fuck did he go?’’ Bunnymund gruffed somewhere to their immediate right, the palm that wrapped around the good doctor’s upper arm telling of the cuts that he too had suffered. Eyes shifty, enlarged in their search as they snapped around the upturned space.

‘’Left again?’’ North suggested with a gaze sobering with pity, at the sight of the two men on the ground that had not quite managed to get away. One lay dead, the other’s wet breaths rattling from the gaping hole that stretched itself out just below his mangled jaw, hands broken by the fray desperately clutching to the bleeding wound, crimson squirting out in a thick spray between his lightly parted fingers.

‘’Either left or straight ahead,’’ Toothiana agreed with the usual sternness present in her voice. ‘’He cannot have gone far.’’

Jack could not quite bring himself to look away. Idly, with his own grip clutching at his staff, he watched as the last of the downed men’s eyes glazed over, tense fingers twitching thrice, before they fell to the side and stayed immobile. The ruin of the wall that the man had collapsed to wrecked. The boards themselves ripped loose, nails sticking out like the scaled tail of an iron dragon.

Just like that.

The first causalities had fallen.

Right behind him, Pitch’s head snapped to the side, the man’s chest heaving from the spike of adrenaline that had drawn his shoulders tight. ‘’Far left,’’ Pitch agreed, as he ordered Adriane to move towards a frame that held no door. Quickly, she gave pursuit without waiting for much further encouragement than that. The chase on. Fueled by the blood that had already been spilled and forgotten for the sake of the more immediate pressure of the task at hand.

The whole thing left a bad taste in Jack’s mouth. Grasping fingers tense, the reins abandoned on Pitch’s behalf to hold onto the other, Jack could not quite stop himself from wrapping a hand around the wrist on the one that had moved to dig into his hip, his own shallow breaths hardly doing much to calm him down, while it did hone his focus into something acute and direct.

‘’Further,’’ Pitch implored on a near growl, just as Jack’s eyes instinctually widened the moment before a tremor went through the painted boards making up the wall at their side – the carved line of wood that raced across the entirety of it coming loose. The hallway bending inwards to swallow them whole.

Sensing trouble as well, with a hand clutching tight to his bleeding arm, Bunnymund’s lips formed around the dire, unnecessary warning. ‘’The-‘’

‘’Further yet or it will all be for naught!’’ Pitch sharply interrupted.

Carved stone, wood and the sharp bite of iron nails closed in to crush them at once, Jack’s breaths turning frantic from fright at the sight of the sharpened maw that spawned from the wall itself. His reddened throat choking on the heavy dust that invaded the air, as Bunnymund’s unoccupied, knuckle-white hand gripped around a curved piece of delicately hard and polished wood and held it out at the ready.

‘’North-’’ Pitch demanded next, as the soil beneath the floors rumbled at an unspoken command, a press of rock and pebble and softer earth rising up to shield and keep at bay, the good doctor’s sneer set in fierce determination, as he fought to keep the path ahead as clear as he possibly could.

‘’On it-‘’ North bellowed in return to be heard over the creaking roar of the collapsing hallway. ‘’Remember, stay close, do not stray-‘’

Jack was confused as to what was going on exactly but evidently, he had hardly paid much attention to the finer details of the planning. Regardless, there was not yet an active part for him to truly play in this. ’’Go!’’ North bellowed as they hit a fork in the network of hallways. Splitting, Toothiana went with Bunnymund and North, while Pitch took the other with Sanderson.

Combined as their charms saw fit, Sandy’s sand and Pitch’s shadows kept the path open as before the soil had done the trick. The bright glow of the sand gliding across the bended boards, forcing it back, a wave of black reinforcing its press where they met, merging together into one shimmering mess of an ever-moving tidal wave.

Still, it was not quite enough and moments later, something wicked and sharp whistled past Jack’s head, the object way too close for comfort. Jack’s hand tightened around his staff, then, a heavy stab of hurt stinging through his chest as he gathered the flow. He was technically not supposed to join in just yet, but at this rate-

The bright gold, perfect black and blue all collided into one fine mess, creating a wall that was swift to rise and engulf the space around them. The path in front kept clear for their passage, but just narrowly.

‘’Save it-‘’ Pitch hissed in his ear on an indignant breath and Jack heeded it none. Muscles hurting from the strain of keeping the flow going. Teeth starting to tingle from the building intensity of it as they honed in on the double doors at the end.

Much in the same fashion, the doors shattered as had with the wall upon their first entrance.

A wide, circular chamber that might once have been a ballroom greeted them here. The light blinding upon the polished wood and curving, ghostly-silver creases of the floor. The glare from what seemed a hundred torches burning as one as the wood of the walls and the floor itself shook and started to come apart.

Immediately, a tight layer of soil trickled up and through to cover the attempted spaces. A glide of sand aiding in keeping the foundation intact, as above, the great chandelier stopped shaking. The thousands of gleaming crystals that clung to it stilling in a clear series of chimes and subtle clinking noises.

‘’All in!’’ North bellowed from somewhere deep inside the place and five voices all called back to him in unison,

‘’Aye!’’

Fleeing at a mad dash as he were, his shadow cast like writhing snakes across the floor from the flickering torches, Jamie spun as soon as he reached the middle of the room. Face set in a mix of concentration and annoyance. His unarmed form shaking with rage and what Jack hoped was a seeping sense of wariness as he retreated further back on the circularly marked floor, hands rising in a placating manner that did not quite lean itself towards surrender.

‘’Now just listen here my good fellows, this is not the time for such drastic chatter-‘’

Watching him take a blast of stark white flame straight to the side of his head was a wonderful thing to behold and abruptly, Jack felt a flicker of hope spark alive in his chest. The move, as Jamie had to vigorously stifle a palm over his hair to quench the licking flames that attempted to take to his crown, making him something giddy.

‘’Four forward,’’ Toothiana’s voice responded on a cold note and while Jamie looked confused, his hands tense as they raked through his singed locks, the remaining people in the room certainly did not.

Pitch drew Adriane sharply to the right and forwards as ordered then, her hooves managing it over two of the floor’s circles, as they all drew ever closer to the middle. Like this, with Bunnymund swiftly switching positions with Sanderson, it placed them at a five-pointed formation. Each intruder able to attack from all sides but also leaving the two that Jamie would opt to direct his focus on at their most vulnerable.

If, Jack thought as he watched a bright whip of sand attempt to catch Jamie off-guard – If indeed the little earl’s focus did only manage itself proper towards two as North had promised and not all.

Effortlessly, Jamie jerked out of the way of both the sand and the burst of flame and soil that all came for him. His movements growing increasingly calculated, as his narrowed eyes likewise scanned the room. A single emotion crossing his face, the notion of it gone too quick to truly register, but a shard of it lingered. Souring his else proud expression as he had to dodge another whip of sand and the pure beat of dark that attempted to lick at him from opposite sides.

‘’Well then,’’ Jack heard Jamie hiss under his breath the moment before the little earl willingly threw himself down, the move obviously not done solely for the purpose of simply dodging the white flame that just barely missed the top of his already charred head. Like that, with his palms settled to the floor, the tips of his fingers digging into the silver lining, Jack heard the wood of it groan in response. A vibration going through, the span of it intense enough to shoot out and climb up the walls, the second before the roof above collapsed in on itself in a great sea of splinters. The crystals of the chandelier all chiming clearly, their polished sides reflecting the light in warning before they too descended in a hail of raining metal and crystal alike. The curving metal of the chandelier itself narrowly missing Jamie’s left shoulder by an inch as it crashed against the markings of the inner circle.

‘’Coward,’’ Bunnymund, somewhere to their left, grit out on a sneer as his own mare, frightened as it were, tossed its’ head and retreated roughly enough to nearly send the good doctor tumbling off. ‘’Bastardly Coward. It’s not gonna do you much good to hide-’’

Pale clear rays of moonlight shone through the ever-expanding gap in the painted roof, Jack’s eyes locked to the starless sky above with a sense of hesitancy, neck craned further, as a flurry of fluffy white snowflakes drifted in amongst the bits of torn wood that continued to hit and bounce across the rings of the floor.

It had certainly not been night when they attacked, he realized with a start. A beat of horror drawing his nerves tight, as the dire meaning of the second realization dawned on him – Whoever it was that North had attacked with when the man himself had managed to steal a shard from the little earl, despite literally having time on their side, the other had not lived to tell the tale.

Jack flinched, a yelp of pain ripping from his throat as the moving clouds above dispersed, a ray of moonlight brushing against his cheek and shoulder in result. The point of contact burning when the light touched him and less than a beat later, Pitch had ordered Adriane to retreat out into the shadows that remained near the walls, less it scorch his skin.

With a sinking feeling of dread, Jack noted that so it remained for the others as well.

Caught in the middle as he were, Jamie paced in a semicircle around the chandelier, a growing smirk taking to his face, as he kicked a few of the larger crystals out of the way while watching each of them in turn. His mirth only sparking higher, as Bunnymund had to dismount his mare. The poor thing sent fleeing out of a broken doorframe in a fit of nerves.

‘’Consider my mood to be one of mercy for this time being,’’ Jamie began on a delighted note that did not quite taste genuine. ‘’And know that it will not linger thusly if it stands ignored. Your presence is not wanted here, nor is it allowed.’’

‘’Tough luck,’’ Bunnymund drawled as he shuffled his feet and rolled his shoulders thrice, the curved piece of wood spun around in his hand. ‘’We have every intention of staying.’’

‘’This is not up for debate,’’ Jamie roughed right back at him as he easily dodged the boomerang that came straight for his neck, the spinning wood continuing out in a wide arch until it returned to the good doctor’s waiting hand. ‘’Leave.’’

No one answered him.

Likewise, did none of their charms reach him either. The burst of sand that shot out losing its speed halfway through, the brunt of it drizzling lamely to the ruined floor. Mingling with the shards of broken crystal before it stilled completely.

Jamie gazed at Pitch next then, his eyebrows wiggling in a way that almost seemed playful. ‘’You know,’’ Jamie clipped, as the other’s gold stayed locked on him, the shadows joining in, climbing up the walls until it reached up, attempting to block the gap in the ceiling. ‘’Out of all these idiots, I thought you would at least have enough sense to see this feat impossible. Or what,’’ he hummed on in mock thought, just as Pitch, while very much ignoring the taunt, ordered Jack to let his own ice loose to aid with the blockade. ‘’Have you gained too much of a taste for hope? For shame, Koz. You know it to be a false direction.’’

It would not hold for long. The fragile barrier that they had managed barely blocking out the harsh glare of the moonbeam. As though to emphasize the notion, or just to make it worse, the floor likewise started to shake from impact as something large, something huge and insistent wormed its way upwards. A single silver ring of the floor lifting itself up, the metal stretching in a widening pool of melting bolts and other precious material, before it snapped short in the middle and clinked back down across the still vibrating wood.

‘’Last chance,’’ Jamie announced on a voice that barely held any strain at all, as a coloured stream of smoke started to rise through the created crack, a swarm of screaming lights spilling out into the suffocating air around and surrounded him in a circling sway. ‘’Leave now and I may let you reach whatever destination that you see fit. Make haste and you may keep whatever spot you opt to claim for your own,’’ he boomed, his stance barely bothered by the heat, as the much-unwelcomed head of the dreaded serpent peaked up through the yielding floorboards. The very presence of it thawing Jack’s ice, causing droplets of stained greyish water to rain down and make the floor slick, the liquid soaking into the wood and sand and crystal. Rendering the whole thing into a fine, clinging mess.

‘’No more of that,’’ Pitch insisted on a near growl in Jack’s ear, his eyes fixed to watch as Jamie stood in his own perfect center of perverse protection. ‘’It will do no good to keep our focus on it. We move.’’

‘’Got it. Just say when,’’ Jack cried over his shoulder, his voice kept just loud enough to be heard over the fray, when Bunnymund’s resolve started to waver in the face of the taxing labor of keeping the hole blocked as much as possible with his own burst of soil. Already, Jack’s own head was burdened by a pounding headache and really, he could only imagine how badly the other’s had it.

‘’Keep the pace steady as soon as I tell you,’’ Pitch hissed on, fingers tightened around the dark metal in his hand as he managed Adriane to the side. ‘’We must-‘’

The serpent let its fire loose in a sudden, fierce explosion of light. The resulting wave of pressure colliding hard into Jack’s side, the move, as he was forced off of Adriane in one fluent glide, scarcely registered. Barely, Jack had managed his eyes open just as the second wave hit and forced him further backwards, the breath knocked from his lungs as his back hit the wall. A wave of sharp crystal firing out and cutting long lines of angry red across his general form.

Ouch, the thought registered as his throbbing shoulder protested the attempt to right himself, blood pounding in his ears as he squeezed his staff close in one hand to not lose it. The nails on his other scraping over the floorboards, the thin prick of a splinter getting stuck in the pad of his finger for it.

Jack paid it little mind. The offended limb in question abruptly jerking back instead for other reasons, as a sharp stab of pain shot up through the palm and made his wrist vibrate in a way that seemed achingly familiar. Perplexed, he stared at the little pinpoint of light that bounced on the floor where he had just kept his hand. His brow furrowing as he watched it writhe about, almost as if in pain.

What?

With a strange, jittery move, it died out with a shattering hiss. And Jack, half collapsed against the floor as he were, stared even harder. He would not have noticed it if it had not been so close. The muscles in his neck twitching, the steady but thin stream of blood that were making its way down the side of his face going disregarded, as he raised his head and blinked out into the swirling dust and lights that surrounded the little earl. There, and just as Adriane, somehow having remained standing as she were, took off and out through one of the broken doorways, Jamie was aggressively scratching at his chest as though trying to rid himself of an irritating itch, face set in a not too casual grimace, and at once, a fine detail became perfectly clear to Jack,

The little lights were rapidly blinking out as the fiery serpent slithered about at its own, unhurried pace.

The lights, he realized right then and there, his palm quick to dig into the ground, shoulder throbbing with pain, as he shoved himself up and frantically searched the rubble for the others, finding Pitch first, North, and then the others to be standing as well - The lights were fueling Jamie. Fueling his charms.

With a beat of nervous tension, Jack watched the massive wave before him, the storm that wicked about to keep them all at bay.

There were so many of them. The supply of lights endless. But, no matter, Jack thought on as he gathered the flow and sent a blast of blinding white ice out. The pointed line making it straight for Jamie and missing the mark by a fraction as the writhing serpent took the hit head on in a reverberating explosion that, if only briefly, shattered most of its gaping jaw - It had to be done.

They had to at least try.

The serpent’s dangling jaw snapped open, the side of it hanging at a strange angle, as Jack gathered the flow for the second time. His source already swinging out at a wide arch to force the direction before a violent tug in his chest stopped him short. The pain of it grand. Urgent enough to nearly send him sprawling as Jamie focused on him fully. If anything, however, Jack realized as he watched Sanderson gather his sand out at his side, the coil of it collected close before the little star of a man snapped it out at a speed too fast for the eye to track – it had seemed to give the others sufficient time to shake a tad of their own discomfort off.

As such, no matter how much the excruciating stabs in his chest constricted his lungs further with each time that he tried to tug on the flow, Jack did it again. The flow gathered before he sent it out and despite the ice only managing to show itself in weak puffs of barely chilled air, it worked. It worked, and with a pang of glee, Jack noted as the pulse of glow in Sanderson’s whipping sand increased, as Jack himself fought and pulled on his own cold as hard as he could.

A distraction, that small voice in the back of his mind registered between the echoed reverberations of the pulsating headache, as he watched Tooth hurl one of North’s bombs out. The strength of it, as it hit the side of the chandelier, loud and devastating and forcing Jamie to duck less the piece of metal, with most of its dangling crystals still attached, take his head clean off. The force of Bunnymund’s attacks likewise wicked in their approach, as the good doctor slammed both palms to the floor and cracked it in a straight line aimed directly at Jamie.

The little earl was ready however, anger plastered in the line of his enraged sneer and in turn, the move almost instinctual, Jack’s hand tightened on his source, the direction of the ice that he knew would hardly show, for the harsh grip that Jamie kept of his core, random, as he tugged as hard as he could.

In front, he watched Jamie falter for a split second, the little earl’s gaze widened in surprise, the ripple from Bunnymund’s attack, as it collided, hard enough to send him staggering backwards and nearly, just nearly, Jamie lost his footing altogether. The serpent roaring in response, but unlike as it were in the tunnels back at the Warren, here the air remained clean. The chances of suffocation nulled significantly, despite the pulsating heat that radiated off it in waves still being a very real threat.

He keeps it close to the center though, Jack reckoned on a slightly delirious note, as he glared at the ever-moving serpent – Close to himself. No chances taken at all, and if that was not an admission of doubt on his own part, then Jack did not know what it was.

Pausing for a beat to catch his breath, Jack watched as Sandy managed another opening in the little earl’s defenses, his sand getting close enough to swipe a trail of wicked crimson across Jamie’s chest and ribs the moment before another of North’s bombs hit their mark by the aid of Tooth’s throwing hand and finally, Jack truly started to understand what Pitch had meant by his statement,

A powerful distraction was needed indeed.

Already, fueled by a beat of determination, he was gathering the flow for a second hard tug, when Jamie’s ire once more turned on him in a sudden flash of sneering teeth and harsh, gleaming eyes.

There was no time to get out of the way, as the serpent focused a blast of starkly coloured fire straight at him and him alone. The scorching warmth of it stealing the air from his lungs, the weaving glide of shadow that just barely managed in front doing grand towards stopping the flames, as a hint of them licked across his skin. Drawing both it and the shade tight, though it did not manage to burn through before the force of the hit itself sent Jack tumbling backwards in a heap of his own flailing limbs instead. His back and shoulder taking most of the impact, as he landed rather awkwardly.

Coughing something ragged, his head pounding loudly enough to shortly cut all sound out, Jack flexed his arm to check for any broken bones that might not have registered amid his adrenaline-fueled flight but found it whole. His ankle aching something fierce, a stabbing band of pain blooming around, but else from that, he seemed mercifully fine.

With trembling knees, his source and a brush of shadow serving as a temporary clutch, Jack grit his teeth and hauled himself upright. The quick glance spared in Pitch’s direction serving as a brief distraction on his own part, but luckily, it did not cost him any further fire or other harm – Jamie distracted by Tooth’s intense bombing and Bunnymund’s flying boomerangs, as he was.

In turn, Pitch had spared a glance back at him as well. The man noting Jack’s standing state with a surge of relief flashing through his molten gold strong enough to make the latter’s chest tingle with a barely contained joy, which really did not have any place in their current circumstances but fuck it if Jack could bring himself to care.

Gods above be damned, Jack had reckoned as he flashed a brusque, bloodied smile and a shaky nod of silent reassurance to the other who returned it with a stiff nod of his own – If they failed, he thought, the little pendant resting under his shirt burning against his skin, If they could not manage it, then at least they fell together.

With no further acknowledgement, the dark metal in Pitch’s hand moved out to dispel another wave of heat and fire as it came for them both. Feet delicately dancing across the ruined, tightening rings of the floor as the man, after a swift bark from Bunnymund and a few choice words that sounded like a cuss, started to close inwards.

A shard of burning wood fell right next to Jack’s foot then, causing him to sharply jerk to the side and look up. Be it the heat or the mere presence of the serpent itself, the roof had caught on fire. Not too drastically, the coloured flames still barely taking to, but in minutes, the whole place would be ablaze unless he did something about it.

Frowning, while sending a quick prayer to whatever god cared enough to pay attention that it would not be a waste of his energy, Jack shot a beam of ice at it, freezing the wood and a bit of the walls as well.

The feat seemed to have quenched the flames for now despite the heat from the serpent instantly causing it to thaw. Abundant droplets of water cascading down like a coating of rain once more as a result. A coloured mist rising up all around, as the liquid turned to steam. The whole room quickly bathed in a thick layer of what looked like a clogging, glittering fog.

It made it hard to see but the advantage still fell on the intruders. All knowing the main focus was on the center as it were.

‘’Good thinking, Jack!’’ North called out and Jack could hardly take the praise for what it was. Afterall, the creation of the swaying cover had hardly been the intention.

Another bomb came whistling through the air then, the round shape of it obscured from view for less than a beat before it exploded out with a deafening boom, forcing ripples through the fog, and scattering a portion of the floating lights. The serpent hissing in response as the vague shape of Jamie did something that made the whole floor shake from strain before another explosion, this time much grander than anything Tooth could throw, cracked through the air.

‘’That's a really annoying trick,’’ Jack gruffed to himself as it sent him flying, his back hitting the wall hard enough for stars to dance in front of his eyes - But if anything, he thought as he shook his head and tried to blink the blur out of his gaze, his hand tightened around his source, it seemed to cost Jamie a heavy amount of energy. A healthy chunk of the lights instantly reducing each time he forced them all back.

Somewhere to his left, having lost his mare as all of them had at that point, he noted the shape of Sandy struggling to his feet as well. The little star of a man making it out beyond the shielding shadows and out under the glare of the moon, his grim expression determined as he raced straight towards the tail of the serpent, whips cracking and oh- Jack realized as he crawled forwards enough for the rays of the moon to touch him too, it did not hurt him.

It hurt none of them, despite the numbing agents cancelling out any psychical sensations for the others, it caused no real further damage, he mused on. The notion bringing a grin to his face as they all, Jack included as he rose once more on trembling knees, steeled himself and moved a few rings in.

A wave of sand rose up around Sanderson, the glow from each tiny speck dwarfed in the face of the serpent’s fire, as it covered most of its flaming, lower half. The heavy blanket melting under the intense heat and sliding off in heaps of gleaming, molten gold. Mixing up with the shards of crystal and broken pieces of wood as the serpent roared and spun.

What little flame had gone out was quick to reignite as Sandy let the sand rise again. The process repeated as the little star of a man drove the serpent at a chase in ever faster circles around the middle in a way that, had the circumstances not been so dire, would have seen comical.

Jack spared a quick glance with Pitch through the lingering fog, the gleam in the man’s eye likewise as amused as it was stern and Jack understood that they had come to the same realization,

The screaming lights were blinking out one by one each time the serpent reignited itself.

Lifting his source slightly with a subtle raise of his brow, the pain in his chest ignored, Jack wordlessly watched as Pitch immediately caught on and, while Tooth and North played the part of distraction perfectly, swung his own scythe out, the dark gathered in pooling heaps along the blade before Pitch sent it flying out at a wide arch.

Ice and dark and the glow of bright golden sand all collided into the serpent’s side, its flames flickering in a show of coloured sparks and subtle hisses before the whole thing sputtered and snuffed. A grand section of the floating lights dying with amongst the heavy fog, before the coloured fire rose once more and lashes out to keep them away.

Again

Slightly out of breath, Jack gathered the flow, the ghostly touch of winter racing down his arms and out through his curled fingers before exploding outwards in a blinding sea of white, the ice aided on by the dark and the gold, before the whole mess enveloped the serpent and swallowed it whole.

That’s it-

The shards of broken crystal chimed with an eerie cry as the serpent reassembled itself, the coloured sparks of flame reflected in their sharpened sides, Jack feeling as if he would surely burst from strain,

Once more- Faster

Panting, Jack’s knee hit the silver lining in the floor, his breaths coming harder with each passing second. The flow dragging nails through his veins as he forced it through and out.

One more, just one more, Jack!

Breath entirely stuck in his throat, legs cramping, Jack soundlessly roared in pain as he sent a burst of cold out in a straight line, the resounding boom of it as it hit its writhing target enough to fully send him crashing.

Still, he very much realized as Pitch managed another burst of dark that instantly mingled with the bright gold of Sandy’s whipping sand – The serpent’s reanimation was slowing down, each spark of the coloured fire looking more like a warped flash of light and less like that of a fully gathered inferno.

One more-

The voice in his head sounded urgent, the clear command cutting through the prickling mud that had trickled into his head, but try as he might, Jack could not get back up. The serpent, Jack noted as he managed to at least raise his head, palms squarely caught on top of the floors silver lining, howling its rage as the press of sand and dark forced it far enough back that its heat started to cause Jamie real trouble.

Jack-

‘’I can’t,’’ Jack roughed on a shrill note and could only pray that the other had heard him, his arms shaking as he fought to keep his twitching upper body from collapsing into the ground. Painfully, he managed a shallow, rattling breath, fingers cramping as he gritted his teeth and gave it his all in calling the ice forth. ‘’Just let me-‘’

Through the thinning fog, the moment, as Jamie, in a fit of frustration, barked something harsh that went unheard and slammed his foot into the ground hard, was just barely visible. The floor groaning in response, a wicked vibration going through the boards the split second before that dark touch of nothingness wrapped around Jack’s arm and ripped him hard to the side and back. The tendril just barely managing it in time, as a rather large section of the floor that he had just been on gave way in a sea of coloured sparks.

Disoriented, still half collapsed against the floor as he were, Jack gasped for breath as that little something in his chest tugged again. His hands fisted around his source, as he gritted his teeth through the scorching hurt of it and looked up. Just in front, he noted, the beams that had been holding the floor up had crumpled as well. Parts of the rings closest to him tilted dangerously downwards as well.

A close call, Jack reckoned, as his eyes locked on the form of North as the man flexed his sabers and moved to swipe at a thoroughly distracted Jamie before the earl in question sneered and did something swift with his left hand. The wave of pressure that hit North squarely in the chest forcing his head back enough to audibly make his neck crack, the last of the fog taken with at a sweeping motion, as the wave forced it back in a translucent circular shape.

An even closer one, Jack thought on, as he watched Tooth duck under the serpents whipping tail and make it past all the way into the inner ring, her own swords poised and ready before she too was sent hurtling through the air.

Like that, none of the intruders were close enough to touch him. All rendered at a distance just safe enough for Jamie to pause and catch his breath and really, Jack thought as he watched the little earl twitch a shaking hand out by the side of his head, fingers trembling as he wiped at his mouth. The coloured fire that briefly obscured him from view subdued enough that it could hardly cause much intimidation at all – He looked just tired enough that Jack felt a bloom of hope slowly gather right alongside the hurt in his chest.

Jamie seemed fueled by a mix of pure rage and spite. The gleam in his eye aggressive as he looked a charging Bunnymund dead in the eye, the breath that he drew deep and determined just as the other’s eyes went wide in realization and abruptly, the silver under Jack’s knee started to vibrate once more. The bolted nails rattling, their thin metal coming loose before the whole room exploded outwards in a sea of bright lights, coloured sparks and twisted metal. Jack’s hands and knees scrapping over the roughened wood of the floor as it sent him crashing across it. A second wave hitting him, making his ears ring from the intensity.

Then a third wave hit.

The fourth briefly knocking him out.

‘’Ow-‘’Another ragged cough tore through his throat as Jack regained consciousness, his lungs barely able to catch any breath at all, the pressure in his chest feeling as if it would suffocate him, as Jack cradled his possibly cracked ribs beneath a tremoring hand.

‘’Fuck-‘’

With a frightening tension snapping through and making him shiver with cold, Jack noted Bunnymund crumpled up on the rough flooring as well. The man bleeding from where his own teeth had bitten through his bottom lip hard, arm cradled at an awkward angle, the limb lying broken amongst the dormant sand and cracked crystal beside. Beside from that, Jack found, as the good doctor groaned and managed it halfway up into a sitting, his glare more annoyed than anything - he seemed mercifully fine.

Jack’s arms shook as he too attempted to push himself up but found that he could barely manage it. The dust tasting terrible on his tongue as it likewise tickled at his throat. But no, he thought as his frantic gaze searched for the others amongst the torn up rubble – They had come too close to give up now.

The serpent was gone. The ceiling above very much having caught on fire again, the walls and a bit of the flooring to his immediate left affected by a fallen torch as well, but except for that- it was gone. Jamie looking a little green himself, face pale, cheeks reddened, as he wobbled on the inner spot of his leading rings and scratched at his heaving chest and finally, Jack just barely managed to see through the blood staining his eyes and noted Pitch’s form lying disturbingly close to a section of the collapsed flooring. The blast wave having knocked him significantly back as well. The crushing relief making Jack nauseous as the other wheezed and moved just ever so slightly.

Through the broken pieces of the floor, the bite of the crystals and the clinging of sand ripping at his palms, Jack abandoned his source and crawled to him. His hands shaking, the pain from his ribs and shoulder ignored, as he cradled Pitch’s equally bloodied and blanched face in his hands and rather harshly slapped at the scratched up side of it.

‘’Pitch,’’ Jack’s voice was thin and raw, his desperation palpable amongst the remaining courage that he vigorously clung to. ‘’Pitch please, come on-‘’

A clawed hand pressed against his sternum, the strength of it weak, but definitely there, the brilliant gold subdued and glazed over, as Pitch groaned and blinked up at him.

Beside them, still standing tall despite the awkward way that he kept a hand to the back of his neck, North, at least for now, seemed to be the only one still worth his shot. The little earl thus distracted for the moment being, but it would not buy them much time at all.

Still, it would be enough.

It had to be.

‘’Take it,’’ Jack, knowing very well how dire the situation was, begged. ‘’The shard, Pitch. Take it,’’ he stressed. ‘’I’m supposed to be a sacrifice anyway, aren’t I?’’ he roughed, breaths coming in little huffs. Between his clutching hands, Pitch’s gaze seemed lost, a hint of something flashing through that Jack could not name. As he managed to speak, his voice was equally weak,

‘’Jack-‘’

‘’Do it,’’ Jack pressed on a thin but unwavering tone, his conviction as harsh as his resolve remained. ‘’I can’t get up again in time, but you can. You have to. You must-’’

The brief moment of quiet that fell was interrupted as another boom rang out, North’s cry of pain ringing clear before the man in question managed to regain his footing on the section of torn up flooring that his exhausted feet had else tripped over.

Below, Pitch’s gaze was so full of affection and hurt that it made Jack’s lips pinch shut, the brilliant gold shifting madly as it dashed between his icy own. ‘’It might kill you,’’ he said on a near whisper. The close proximity making it so that Jack felt his breath fan across his overheating face. ‘’The meantime will be agony.’’

In turn, Jack’s lips drew up at a humorless grin, a peek of teeth stained with blood showing. ‘’I’m alright with that,’’ he pressed as the side of a thumb skimmed along the line of the other’s sharp jaw, the coloured pendant around his neck slipping free from the confines of his shirt, hanging menacingly in the air between them, as Jack leaned down further and practically uttered on a hiss, ‘’We’re all dead anyway if we don’t do something. This isn’t enough and you know it. We have to do more. We gotta try,’’ he stressed and then watched out of the corner of his eye as another resounding explosion of pure pressure made North fall once more. Still, the man continued to get up. ‘’Just take it already.’’ Beside them, Bunnymund managed to stand as well, his bad arm hanging limp beside him, legs shaking something fierce, but for now, they held. ‘’I have a strong core. You’ve said it yourself.’’

The brilliant gold squeezed shut. A hard edge having crept in as they fixed on his again. ‘’Are you certain?’’ Pitch stressed on a disheartened tone, to which Jack curtly nodded, the claws at his sternum twitching at a result. ‘’I will have to hold you down,’’ Pitch rasped on, his voice as tense as it was committed and above, Jack’s grin morphed into something less confident, but still very much resolute.

‘’If it’s really necessary, then do as much.’’

A single beat passed. Then, with one fierce intake of breath, Pitch managed himself halfway up. His clawed hand weak but resolved as it moved to stem against Jack’s shoulder to push him down instead, the other sliding into his hair and holding fast. The entirety of his fatigued weight settling over the latter’s thighs, no hesitation left behind the gesture at all, as lips locked on Jack’s with a blazing passion. The taste of something metallic heavy on his tongue, a small vibration in the back of his mind registering, just as a strange tingle started up in his chest and curled around the already constricted hurt.

Forcefully, the gesture more instinctual than anything, Jack jolted as something within him started to push. His throat burning, legs kicking out, ribs protesting the move as he thrashed to get away. The crude grip of shade that settled ruthlessly around his thin wrists and most of his chest only tightening in response, as Pitch did indeed hold him down.

Crudely, completely unable to fight it, Jack screamed up into the other’s open mouth as Pitch stole the shard from him - the shrill roar of agony lost in the fray of the battle as North and a very wobbly Bunnymund got flanked by Sanderson. A harsh, whistling sound from one of the good doctor’s boomerangs ringing out, the curving wood missing Jamie’s head by a fraction, just as Pitch broke the poor imitation of a kiss and leaned back up. A series of elated breaths falling from his puffy lips as his shoulders lost some of their most immediate tension.

Rolling said shoulders thrice, Pitch placed a clawed hand to the side of his own neck before he cracked it. His golden gaze kept ahead, as he wiped the light sheen of spit from his mouth. Claws gracing Jack’s pale cheek and a bit of his jaw in what felt more like a farewell than any gentle reassurance.

The weight left Jack’s thighs then, the darkness spilling over the ruined wood and rings of silver, the whole sweep of it closing in tight and retreating like the turning tide as Pitch got up on unsteady legs and trailed out of his direct line of sight.

Stunned with pain, left on the floor as he were, Jack could barely breathe for the clenching warmth in his chest. Eyes widened to their fullest locked to the burning ceiling and the light flurry of snow that drifted in from above as his whole body trembled.

It hurt. It really fucking hurt and it did not stop hurting.

It felt as if a piece of his heart had been cut out, ribs pulled out right alongside it to make space for something that was no longer there and, while unable to do much else, Jack kept his stinging eyes locked to the glare of the flames as he did his best to just breathe.

A near minute passed. Another taking its place before he managed to jerk himself about enough to turn onto his side, arm caught at a bad angle below, as his cheek rested to the sharp edge of broken silver. Not much of the floor was left to navigate on where the four in front still battled it out. Jack watching through a reddened haze as Pitch, scythe in hand, danced along the line of the inner ring, feet moving in ever closing circles as each of his wicked blows neared their mark ever so slightly and wonder- Jamie had to retreat, own feet faltering in their haste as they tripped him over his own created ruin.

Still breathless, but this time for more reasons than his constricted lungs alone, Jack watched Jamie roll out of the way of the flashing metal that came straight for his head, the little earl’s palms swiftly pushed against his bended knee, as he made to stand.

Pitch drew the shadows closer to him then, a hint of ice creeping along the edge of the scythe and in response, something in Jack’s chest tugged. The strain of it worse than anything he had experienced so far. The muscles of his stomach clenching in response, ribs feeling as though they were being grinded to dust, as he curled up on the dust and debris and tried to breathe through it. A thin, shrill noise ripped from his throat as Pitch did something with his shade that forced Jamie further back, the earl nearly losing his balance as North seized the opportunity and moved in as well.

The shadows moved again as Jamie just barely made it out of the saber’s reach, a thin tendril managing it around the earl’s ankle hard enough to nearly jerk his leg right out from under him, ice creeping across the floor to make it slick while he was distracted and Jack howled.

The whole thing was excruciating and far too quickly, he lost his sense of time. His body growing tired. Limbs heavy. Jack feeling as if he could melt right through the ruins of the floor if it was not for the pain that kept him awake.

Like that, he watched through the increasing blur that had taken to his eye as Sanderson’s glowing sand swiped at Jamie’s feet as well, the latter’s full attention directed on the wave of sweeping gold. The distraction enough for Pitch to get close behind, the dark metal of his scythe swooshing, aimed directly for the part where Jamie’s neck met his shoulder before said earl managed to twist, the arm moved up and over to halt in a mindless show of desperate defense.

Still, impossible as it should have been, the metal was cleaved straight through, the blade split in half, smaller pieces clattering across the ground like fine China, as it clashed with soft flesh. Pitch’s brilliant gold widened in acute shock, a blast of ice coating out to replace the missing half of the blade in a last-ditch effort to land the blow proper and-

Pained, Jack’s eyes fluttered shut for a beat, as a wicked stab of nausea immediately wrecked his stomach, fingers curling until his nails dug into his palms. Again, he found, as his gaze focused enough to relay any real detail in front, another of those damned, powerful blasts sent Pitch staggering as the attempted attack failed, the scythe ripped completely from the man’s grip, the metal screeching a harsh cry across the silver ring that it landed against, as Jamie sent him hurtling back with yet another blast of unseen force. Then another. Another yet- the little floating lights blinking out one by one at a faster pace still, until Jamie had driven both Pitch and Sanderson nearly halfway across the room.

With a lightly tremoring hand pressed to his chest, Jamie straightened up, his crude smile hiding the worst of his discomfort as he looked to a solemn looking North. Except for a light strain to his breathing, the little earl seeming physically fine, his general demeanor a stark contrast to the downed state of half their party, the clear fatigue that had else taken a hold of the intruders and-

A light chime of laughter broke through the air, the sound clearly amused and at once, Jamie’s gaze snapped to where a half-crazed Tooth sat amongst the remains of wood and silver and burst crystals. The smeared lines that had left a coloured mess on her joyed face fierce despite the clear pain that had taken to her barely upright frame.

‘’What in Celeste’s name is so funny?’’ Jamie, genuinely perplexed by her merry expression, roughed and at once, her hand fell away to expose her grinning mouth.

‘’What is your ground core, Jamie?’’ she asked, her voice slurred but stern, directed in its certainty, as the flickering flames raged on undisturbed behind her, causing smoke to obscure and creep across the rings of the floor. ‘’What was your first element?’’

Uncertain, or perhaps just entirely confused by the notion, Jamie’s pride seemed to falter just a tiny fraction, his brow furrowed as he spat a simple, ‘’What?’’ in return.

Jack noticed it then, his small smirk widening as finally, Jamie noted the lack of floating lights too. The last having died in the blast as it had. The total amount of the remaining left at a blessed zero for it and Jack desperately wanted to laugh right along with Tooth.

Sanderson kept his distance, his glowing sand at the ready at his side. Eyes as narrowed and focused as the rest of them remained and finally, Jamie looked frightened. Mouth set in a thin line as North dropped one of his sabers to the ground, the sound of the metal clattering to the ground ringing out like sweet music as the man raised his freed hand up to the level of his chest. His fierce knuckles going white from strain as his frown deepened. No joy left on his face, just a fierce determination remaining as a lick of flame started to glide down the side of his said hand. His whole arm soon engulfed in a blazing heat grand enough to melt through bone and yet, it hardly seemed to affect him or any of his attire.

It did, however, have an immediate effect elsewhere.

Jamie’s eyes went wide, a look of pure shock and disbelief present that he was not quick enough to hide and, on a firm note, North cemented as much.

‘’'S over,’’ he roughed on a voice heavy and thick, ‘’you have nothing.’’

Arm raised up, North sent the fire spiraling out at his side, the direction thus kept safely away from any of the others and, with a head spinning from the notion, Jack watched Jamie’s expression crumble for a beat. The little earl’s arm jerking wildly as though from a cramp, the entirety of his face screwing up in pain the moment before he doubled over, a flexed hand pressed to his stomach as he wheezed out a thin, ragged tune. Uncontrolled, the pace sporadic, he staggered back on shaking legs, wide eyes frantically scanning for a remedy and quickly finding none.

Sanderson closed in first then, quickly flanked by Pitch. The whip that wrapped around Jamie’s arm to keep him in place holding fast as Pitch, still sans his scythe, resorted to pounding a closed fist straight into the earl’s face. The other swiftly raised back and snapping forward too at a wicked fast pace. Crimson flying forth with each hard hit as Jamie staggered back. A wet rasping noise left through the ruin of his broken nose as Pitch followed with, the man still raining abuse, as Jamie stumbled and fell sideways, the whip making the angle of his arm and shoulder awkward, as he struggled to get away.

At a frantic attempt to stall the bite of the blade that came straight for his heart, Jamie’s hand caught around Pitch’s own after it had retrieved a long, thin dagger from somewhere on his person and clutched it close. Still, despite his strength, despite his might, with no charms left to call upon, Jamie struggled.

Additionally, Jack realized as he managed to crawl forward, closer to the center of the room and away from the roaring flames that crackled just behind - No one else had rushed to Jamie’s defense either. No forced servants or paid hands alike seemingly in any hurry at all to come to his aid. Jamie abandoned here to his fate as he were. The earl discarded in his disgrace. An exhausted tyrant left with nothing to defend himself with.

Pitch swiftly had him on his back, the dagger that he had managed to jerk free but a blur in the air as it plunged deep into Jamie’s chest. The little earl’s legs jerking about in a panicked manner, the move only increased in its urgency with each hard blow that rapidly came and fuck, Jack thought with a sense of conflicted glee as he watched the flexed muscles in Pitch’s back work, the whip of glowing gold easing up and falling away on its own as Jamie’s movements started to grow inept – this was hardly the work of a sane mind.

The hands that had twitched at Jamie’s sides started to grow limp, fingers spasming at random still and Jack felt a cold snap of something disturbed crawl down his spine as Pitch turned the weapon, the stained blade flashing in the light of the raging fire that had consumed the walls all around before he smashed the butt of the dagger straight into Jamie’s already bleeding temple. The skin of his face stretching as his skull started to bend and yield, the yellowish white showing under a mop of brown hair as the bone caved under the repeated abuse.

‘’Enough,’’ Jack heard Toothiana breathe on a tone disturbed but not quite committed towards acting herself and, true to the notion, none heeded nor added in on the plea either.

All around, the shadows seemed to grow denser with each passing blow. The insane glee that had taken to Pitch’s quiet grit of laughter only spurring his punishing hand on, the hits of the dagger still coming strong until, somewhere besides, North’s fire died down on its own. The rolling hint of shade that surrounded Pitch twitching once before it curled out, the flames at the walls smothered under its press, just as a powerful surge went through the stained ground.

Idly, Jack heard Bunnymund draw in a deep, cathartic breath, as something snapped in the air. A certain tension collapsing that likewise seemed to grand Toothiana and the remaining intruders a bit of their strength back. Toothiana herself, albeit be it a tad shakenly, managing to stand as well as Sanderson went to help her.

‘’Enough, that enough,’’ This time, the plea came from North and finally, Pitch, still on his knees as he were, after one last hit with the dagger into the fine mess that were their former tyrant, stilled. The move almost absent, as a stained claw twitched against the slightly curved metal of said dagger. Pitch’s shoulders hunching, his whole posture slumped, as he gritted his teeth and lightly panted.

A long-felt beat passed. The sound of the crackling fire above loud in the sudden quiet that spread over the room, the carpet of rising smoke still billowing strong as the snow serenely descended around them. Then, with a caution that could almost count as anxious, there was something hard but painfully raw present as Pitch’s gaze slowly glided to were Jack still laid collapsed.

Pitch seemed slightly crazed as their eyes locked, the pupils of his eyes thin, tiny dots drowning in the brilliant gold that seemed to glow in the dimness and, try as he might, Jack could not help the dazed and a tad hysterical smile that cracked in turn to the devastating relief that beamed back at him with all the intensity of a roaring inferno.

Still, Jack stayed silent in the face of that naked liberation. Forced to be, really, as his whole body vibrated in the absence of any intruding tug. The pain in his chest having died down into a numb, proper stinging for it. Little stab of tension still registering, but it was hardly enough to cause him any real concern.

Truly, Jack wanted to share the elated triumph with Pitch, but found that he could not. The mental connection that they had else shared very much severed as it were.

No matter, Jack thought to himself and himself alone as he watched a bit of the ceiling cave under the abuse of the fire, bits of it raining down like tiny stars before a large section all but tumbled in a heap of rough wood and flame - It was a small price to pay considering that a small shiver of fright had crawled down his spine as their gazes had met.

The reason behind that told him enough.

A tad uncoordinated, he managed it halfway up into a sitting, the spinning in his head worsening in an instant before the blooming hurt in it that increased and snapped through like a crack of thunder sent him keeling over. Jack’s spine drawing taut in warning, hands stemming against the curving line of the floor as he coughed and dry heaved against the fractured hint of silver.

Thusly, he more heard than saw as the abused metal clattered from Pitch’s bloodied hand. The man looking slightly green as he forced himself up. The first step that he conducted leaving him swaying dangerously on his feet, Jamie’s crushed form going ignored as he stepped over it and ahead. As such, Pitch had made it the first three steps in Jack’s direction when North’s voice once more spoke up somewhere to the left,

‘’Aster,’’ he implored in what sounded like strained reconciliation, the tone bordering on a plea. ‘’This not the way.’’

Rapidly, Jack’s vision was closing in on him. Dark spots claiming his vision as it felt as if his head was trying to split right open. Still, he could see enough to observe the moment out of the corner of his eye as Bunnymund, weapon still raised high in his good hand, glared at Pitch and altogether, the latter had paused. The shade that closed in an acute warning. Urging the other to stay clear, to stay away and Jack had to grit his teeth as it made that specific tug in his chest draw tight once more.

‘’We're four against one,’’ Bunnymund clipped, his whole form shaking with exhaustion and a resolve so deep that it made Jack’s teeth tingle all over again, blood running cold at the realization of what that meant. ‘’We can end this here and now, once and for all.’’

Pitch did not seem surprised despite his gold growing cold, claws twitching at his sides, his breaths baited as he waited to see what the outcome of the statement would entail.

Sanderson, to his credit, seemed conflicted. North just as much, but regardless, Jack knew that their fate was sealed as soon as Toothiana’s hand found her sword.

Pitch’s mouth locked in a sneer, his shoulders drawing taut, shadows stretching outwards with intent, the pure black that he called forth pressing everything away from himself and Jack’s chest painfully constricted the split second before he passed out.

-

Jack’s head hurt something fierce as it kept bumping against something hard and unyielding. North’s back, Jack realized, as he noted the strong arm pinning him in place, the solid bend of the shoulder that he had been flung over. The man’s breaths ragged, burning from the effort of it, as he ran as fast as he was able. Like that, unable to move much at all, Jack could only see a fraction of what laid behind them but what he could see, made a cold snap of fear crawl down his spine.

The whole perverse imitation of a house was engulfed in shade and flame. The billowing black weaving itself amongst the bright glare of the roaring flames. Tendrils of blazing shadows pooling out of the busted windows, licking up the sides of the cracked stone, the whole thing ascending above into a twisted mess of crackling fire and rough, sweeping dark.

It was a terrifying sight. The aspect of its origin made all the worse as Pitch emerged from within its clawing clutches and stepped out into the frigid cold of the early morning dew. Shadows licked up the man’s back as he strode forwards slow, the dark storm brewing and growing with each passing step. He did not seem to register his surroundings. The once brilliant eyes of gold seeming distant and cold, as he let the dark consume the lands around him and at once, it hit Jack like a ton of bricks,

Pitch was gone.

Either from grief or rage or a combination of the two, his former holder seemed to have shut all sense of mercy out. Nothing but a stark sense of mindless destruction left in the gesture as his gaze lifted enough to glare in their fleeing direction.

’’What… What the fuck just happened?’’ Jack managed to wheeze out as the arm around him tightened further and North pressed himself on just a little harder. Sanderson’s pulsating light at their side the only thing keeping the dark at bay as it tried to snap and rip at their ankles.

‘’Long story!’’ was the only reply that Toothiana barked right back on a slightly winded note but at least she acknowledged him. The notion of their haste made all the more dire as Jack watched what he assumed to be a former paid hand of Jamie’s get dragged kicking and screaming back into the black inferno still rising like a tidal wave behind Pitch and the twisted fortress itself.

Horrified, Jack watched as another, that had made it just past a warped door to the left, sunk to his knees. The escapee frantically scratching at his throat and face as the shadows pressed in through his eyes and nose. Invading his form as they seemed to suffocate him slow, before finally, said escapee slumped to the ground lifeless and, be it from his own rapidly increasing weariness or plain old denial, Jack felt a bit of the stark horror yield to the flood of numbing mud that inched its way in and clouded his mind.

Lamely, he shook his head as he stared wide-eyed at the terrible scene that grew ever smaller as each of North’s pounding steps brought them closer to safety.

This was not real, Jack thought, his entire form flinching as a terrible roar of anger and pain rang out. He wanted to shield his ears against it. Wanted to claw and scratch at North’s back and demand to be put down so that he could go and personally clasp his hand across that sneering mouth.

Instead of being allowed as much, Jack saw the moment as Pitch collapsed to his knees, the man’s own clawed hands flexed, pinpoints of crimson dripping down from where he had punctured his own palms. Still, he kept screaming out all his pain. The anger and old, built-up guilt and regret mixing in for a terrible cacophony of sound and finally, Jack realized with a start that he would kill them all as well if they, against all odds and current affairs, tried to go near.

No, he very much understood as he turned his head into the rather rough comfort of North’s spine, the howling wind whipping at his hair and ears and leaving him terribly cold - There was nothing that they could do. The only thing that might be keeping the swift end at bay that Jamie’s old hands suffered, being that of North’s, and the other’s, fleeing feet.

‘’Dad?’’ The shrill shout had been faint, but the clear voice of it still managed to break through the fray of the storm and at once, both North and Sanderson had simultaneously stopped short in shock, the look on Bunnymund’s face equally as horrified as it was surprised as he too stopped a little way ahead of everyone else. ‘’Daddy?’’

The tone that spoke sounded as ludicrous as it was angered and at once, the shadows twitched before they swayed to a slow, ominous glide.

‘’Ah,’’ Bunnymund rasped, clearly out of breath as well as he planted his good hand to his knee and roughly spat a mixture of blood and spit at the ground. ‘’Well, fuck-‘’

The lot of them were too far away at that point to see exactly what expression Pitch wore, but his paused state did seem to indicate at least some form of recognition.

‘’He kept his word,’’ Toothiana hummed on a perplexed note, her tone seeming confused as she too watched the young lady, completely indifferent to the cooling bodies and the clogging dark that pulsed around her, her demeanor stern, a patch of coloured flowers blooming in her wake as she walked across the torn up soil and straight ahead.

The shadows harming her none was proof enough that, despite Seraphina’s height betraying that she was not nearly as young anymore as the painting back at the dark mansion had portrayed her as, Jack understood what the other’s had already realized.

In turn, the seemingly impossible reality seemed to dawn on Pitch as well. His gaze wide and unseeing as the instant recognition sunk in despite the clear years that had passed. His arms left to hover awkwardly on either side of his daughter’s waist after she had crouched down, wrapped her own delicate arms around his thick neck and squeezed tight.

Despite Pitch’s stupefied manner, the roughest hint of shade stopped swiping at them. The howl of it all dying down to a soft hum, as the storm withered into a prickling nothing and finally, Pitch seemed to perceive his surroundings with all the clarity of what he had just done. His gaze filled with nothing but shock and fear as he stared at his own soaked palms hovering just above Seraphina’s shoulders. Lost to the gravity of it, as he shuddered once and finally, tightly, hugged her back as though he would shatter if he did not.

In few beats however, Seraphina drew back and scowled in ire at her father.

This time, neither of the huddling figures standing just at the edge of the snow-covered trees leading back into the forest behind could hear the exact words that passed from Seraphina’s lips. The only thing very much clear to all being the fact that she was yelling at him.

‘’Go,’’ Bunnymund insisted as he straightened up and squared his shoulders as much as his bad arm would allow him to. ‘’While he's still distracted. With a little luck, the building will bury them both.’’

And just like that, Jack, unable to resist the move as North spirited him away, thought as he watched his former holder break down in long-kept tears - It was over.

Chapter Text

The small, worn-down cabin in the woods, that North had found for them, smelled like piss and stale bread. The underlying scent sour and moldy. Arguably disgusting, but Jack was too tired to care. Whole body heavy, where he lay. Directly on the floor. Wrapped in a thin excuse for a blanket, as he stared at the cracked ceiling.

Everything ached.

It had been two days now. Two days where he was barely able to move much at all. The creeping sickness, that had gradually been taking to his veins, causing his throat to close up to the point where he had trouble speaking. The only thing that he had been able to utter at one disturbing point, that of a gruff, raw noise that sounded as if someone had stepped on a frog. It had passed, though, his speech somewhat returned, and yet, Jack could not help but remember how pale Pitch had looked in the aftermath of Jamie’s visit to the old, burned down mansion. How tired he had been.

Had Pitch been just as affected the first time around as Jack was now? Just as sick? Or was this something else entirely?

Jack had no way of knowing.

Not that it really mattered either, he grumbly reminded himself, as he turned his head and glared at the sleeping North lying practically right next to him on the floor. The others likewise sleeping soundly around him. Toothiana and Sanderson on the bed, while, crammed as it was, that left the remaining holders on the floor with Jack - Not with how there were more pressing matters at hand.

No, Jack knew that they only had enough coin to last them for three more days. Not that that mattered either, seeing as they had no easy way of purchasing anything. The piss-poor, bread-smelling cabin, as mentioned, awfully far out in the woods as it were. As far out as North could get them, really. Far out, and far away from any of the collectors that prowled the streets of the neighboring towns and villages.

Now, Jack understood why it was safer like this. Understood that it was to give them all a chance to heal.

Still, that was not going to matter much if they all starved to death.

Or worse.

Jack allowed his eyes to fall closed from where they had been tracing a rather deep cut along North’s brow. His chest feeling awfully hollow, as he drew a deep, rattling breath into disease-riddled lungs.

Just the day before, he had overheard North talking about moving even further in amongst the trees. Farther out yet- Away from even the slightest possibility of them running into civilization. Of running into anyone else at all.

Not that Jack had had much of a say in that. Or a choice, really. His body too cold and sick for him to offer any protest. To resist, as North had bodily picked him up right away, and then carried Jack along after Jack had, as soon as he had originally been put down after their rather abrupt escape from the shadow-crazed Pitch, turned on his heel without a word and then tried to go back. Back, in the completely opposite direction of where the group was heading.

North had not let him out of his sight ever since. None of them had.

Except for now.

Jack’s mouth thinned as he glared into the depressing dark behind his sweaty eyelids.

Fact was, that there was a space in his heart where something was missing. He could feel it, that absent space. Like a splinter right between his ribs. Hurting him, each time that he breathed. It pulsated. A constant reminder of what he had lost, and he wanted so badly to reach out. To be heard. To be seen, and as Jack tried to do it, as he had so many times before, he found that still, nothing happened. Nothing at all. The connection truly shattered in the aftermath of the great, final battle with their late dictator.

Jack squirmed in the shitty blanket as his lips eased into a deep frown. Slightly numb fingers blindly following along the closed edge at the side, until he could wedge them through the worn and breaking strands, and then work his entire arm out of the semi-tight cocoon, that North had forced on him.

It felt like a longshot. A shot in the complete dark, as he looked inwards, instead. The deep breath, that Jack drew, hurting something fierce, as he willed himself to focus as much as he were able.

He hoped to find a spark. A light. A beacon. Anything at all, really. Anything to guide him. To show him the way, and softly, subtlety, as though from deep within, he felt something respond. That tiny void of hurt in his heart answering him. Reaching back, and then reaching out to the part of itself that was missing-

The shard.

Jack’s eyes flew open in pure shock and conflicted joy at the abrupt realization of what he had just found,

The shard was responding to his call, and somewhere far away. Somewhere out there, Jack felt it collide against something and echo out. Felt the direction that it was pulling him in. Guiding him, towards a destination that he did not yet truly know the location of.

His eyes stung as he remembered to blink. The reality of why that ache was there in the first place awfully obvious, and if it had made the hurt in his heart all the worse for it, then Jack had thought it fair.

Pitch.

Pitch had that little shard. He was the destination, and Jack knew that he had a choice to make, though truthfully, it was not much of a choice at all. Had never been, really.

The shadows, Jack’s head swam as he slowly, as quietly as he could, undid the clasp that was supposed to keep the hem of the blanket shut and sat up. The single thought, that had reverberated around his skull for the past two days now, making itself present once more - The shadows had not hurt her. They had not hurt Seraphina, and Jack ached.

By the gods did he ache.

With gritted teeth, Jack felt a snap of cold run through him. The decision made.

Enough was enough. His head swimming, as he gingerly got up. Vision briefly blurring to the point that he could not see, but within a few beats, it passed. Jack’s feet nevertheless still struggling to stay stable, as they glided around the sleeping figures on the floor and made ahead as quietly and quickly as they could.

If he was caught now, Jack knew – Then Bunny would tie his thighs together as he had already, jokingly, but not really, threatened to do.

Tired as they all were, however. Hungry and beaten and all nursing injuries of their own, none of the holders woke as Jack carefully spread his arms out for balance, the blanket behind him like a cape, as he crept over the dusty floors of the cabin. All the way to the door that he knew was unlocked.

Said door would, however, creak something fierce once its hinges were set in motion. The cacophony of sound more than likely enough to raise at least one to alertness, and so, Jack looked to the smashed window right beside instead. Tired eyes tracing the general clutter underneath that at least looked as though it should be able to hold his slight weight.

He had to try. Feet already up onto what looked an old broken bench before the thought had quite finished, and somehow, Jack managed not to cut himself on the glass as he climbed out. The cool night air of the outside a soothing sensation against his overheated skin as he nimbly landed on his feet once more.

Despite how his whole body protested the sudden, moving state that he had opted for, his fever felt less pressing. The worst of the nausea already swallowed down as Jack, without much thought or care spent for looking back to the cabin that he was leaving behind, started to walk out into the woods. In the general direction that the missing piece in his core, in his heart, was telling him to go. The shard calling back. Echoing and guiding him, like a compass, through the dark and the great body of trees all around.

-

He had had to walk all night. The sweet chime of birdsong sounding all around him as Jack, more than a little exhausted while running on no sleep at all, trekked through the wakening woods. The light layer of snow under his bare feet crunching softly, as he draped the thin, bread-smelling blanket a bit tighter around himself. Sniffed, and then made ahead.

About two hours and a half later, he broke through the line of trees. Sucked in a shuddering breath of strain, as he stood atop a steep hill overlooking a vast valley below where white, snow-covered fields stretched themselves out to all sides. And in the middle, tiny and crooked from wear, a small house stood.

It was all rather scenic, really. Serene, even, if not for the fact that Jack knew better.

The house would be cold. And if not, difficult to heat. The blackened chimney on top already struggling to keep up, as whoever lived inside, fed what timber they had to the hearth in order to keep the fire going.

Not that that was any of his concerns. Jack currently struggling down the slippery path that led around the house in order to keep the pace.

About halfway there, the furry shepherd’s dog, that had been lazing on a log amongst the white, looked up at him with raised ears. The hound clearly attentive. Curious, until its head once more rested to its paws, as it saw him as no immediate threat. And so, a tad relieved, Jack followed along the trail. Keeping ahead, until one of the sheep beside him took off at a sudden, mad dash. The creature clearly startled. Undoubtably not used to any company at all except for its usual brethren.

The hound, still, did not seem to mind. A little huff let out from its cold snout, as it continued to laze. Not one bit bothered.

The movement caught Jack’s gaze though. Eyes now lingering to the two sticks lying about at random in the snow where the sheep had been and, as though drawn to it, he found himself wandering over to lightly kick at the pieces.

They were sturdy, and whoever had had them while still whole must have been awfully sad to see it gone. The old shepherd’s staff seeming broken by hand as it were, and not by any mere accident.

It made him more than a little curious. Whatever story laid behind lost to him however, lost to the passing of time and interest, as Jack picked up the pieces and, as though guided by instinct, held them together at the break.

Exactly what he was going for, he did not know. But something was working. His cold flowed freely, effortlessly through, as he held each in his hands and ordered them to mend.

And it did. It did mend. The wind picking up as a result. Howling around his ears and sending his hair flying around his face as Jack raised the mended staff up high in curiosity and sent the wind hurtling in ever faster circles around himself.

The hound did not like it. Not one bit. The rough barking lost to the fray, until it finally turned tail and ran. Back towards the little house with its blackened chimney.

-

Evening was upon him, and Jack had almost made it through the valley and to the edge of another path leading out of it, when he stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow.

There was another small farm here. Another crooked set of walls with a blackened chimney, though this one had no sheep, nor hounds out and about. The picket fence, that framed the front yard, all cracked up and rotted under the kiss of neglect and the simple passing of time.

It still served its purpose well enough, as Jack was forced to go around and follow the correct path up the alley until he arrived at the door in order to knock and-

The matron had pointed him to the water in the well and then promptly told him to step back. To get away from her. Told, that he was allowed to stay in the stables for the night, but by the morn’, he was expected gone. Out of her sight and out of the village up ahead too, for that matter, since he was so obviously ill.

Jack had not even gotten the chance to open his mouth to say anything at all before the door was promptly shut. The hard wood of it just short of slammed in his face and leaving him to blink at in in confusion.

He knew that he looked rather sick and felt it too, but was it that bad?

He would rather not think on it. No, it was simply better to ignore it for now. Or at least, he grumbly thought to himself as he looked ahead to the well in question – at least until he no longer could.

Jack drank deep from the bucket that he had managed to wrestle up from the steep, echoing decline of stone and mortar. His throat protesting the cold sting of the icy water but likewise savoring the quench. Legs feeling a little less like wobbling jelly, as he went ahead to curl up amongst the partly rotted hay in the empty stables. His newfound source clutched close to his chest as he willed himself to drift.

At least, he thought, as a powerful cough wreaked havoc on his lungs – at least his coughing was letting up a bit.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

It was probably wishful thinking.

-

As it was demanded of him, Jack was up the next day before the sun had fully risen. A slightly greyed tone - absent as the light were - to it all, as he once more drank straight from the bucket in the well.

He had just about lowered it down to its circling edge when the wind changed direction and lightly made his hair rustle. A waft of something wonderful on the air, that promptly made his teeth water.

Jack’s brow furrowed. His staff grabbed back in his hand a bit harder than was technically needed as the smell made his throat constrict just ever so slightly in need.

He had no coin. Nothing at all of value to spare, really. Nothing, and so, Jack’s lips pressed themselves into a thin, hard line as the mental debate saw itself out in his head. The churning of his gut contributing as a loud protester. Enabling him, as the scent continued to linger. Beating at his resolve, as the wordless promise of a swift relief, and furthered fuel for his tired bones, presented itself somewhere close by.

It wasn’t right, he reckoned with himself as his eyes caught on an open window and the thick plank of wood that held the freshly baked goods - Not by a longshot. This was not right, but what choice did he have?

It had been days since he last ate. Further yet, since he had last had a proper meal.

Jack’s stinging eyes darted around to check for any potential witnesses. Bare feet quick over the cracked cobble, as he followed the scent on the air all the way to the source and snatched it with. The lump of stolen bread burning in the palm of his hand for more than one reason, as he quickly scurried away from the scene of the crime. Shame churning in his gut right alongside the blessed taste of rye.

-

The rest of the day passed by without any further incidents or changes that could shake up the routine. Jack following the trail out of the valley and ahead until he was too tired to proceed. The forest that he found himself in somehow feeling thicker than that of the woods, and he knew that he needed to rest again soon.

It was not safe to do so. Not really, but he had to, and so, as night came and rendered his vision null, he felt around with the butt of the staff and managed to locate a patch of the undergrowth that seemed particularly dense.

Like that, he slept under the light foliage of shielding ferns and creeping ivy. Legs tucked in, as he highly ignored the sensation of tiny pinpoints scurrying along the soles of his feet. Jack drawing the blanket around him even tighter, as well as he could, and then pointedly closed his eyes.

It would not do to get picky about his bedding when there truthfully was none to be had, and this. This was better than none. The ground beneath him slightly moist, perhaps, but better that, than to be woken by something larger in the middle of the night. Something with teeth and claws and a vision that made it so that it could hunt through the dark cover of night.

Jack clutched his staff a little tighter to his chest and willed himself to stop thinking about it. To stop thinking in general. To just sleep so that he could get up as soon as possible and proceed.

It was not too awfully difficult, and in the end, Jack reckoned that he had not so much drifted into slumber, as he had just plainly passed out.

-

It was beautiful. It was gorgeous, and it was so painfully obvious as to what he was looking at. The capitol of Lunanoff visible far out in the distance from the massive boulder on which he stood. The city standing out amongst the trees around it like a molten mountain of gold and beige and white. Rooftops shining under the light and the slight heat from the sun.

Something heavy fluttered in Jack’s stomach as he looked at it. The sensation not unpleasant as per say - far from it really - but he had never seen a place this huge. Had heard of it in tales, of course, but to see it. To understand the grandeur…

Jack squinted his eyes against the sun, free hand coming up to shield the worst of the rays so that he may make out the details.

Not that it helped him much. The distance simply too grand. And yet,

The ocean twinkled in the far distance behind the tiny houses that littered the outskirts and thus created a circular hint of a shape. Jack unable to really see each individual house as he was, but close as they were in proximity to the next, they gave a semblance of a whole. Of structure. Of something larger. The trails of smoke, from the numerous chimneys, drifting out and forming a light sheen above the capitol. Like a cloud. The fluff of it relaying the bustling activity that no doubt went on in there, and little by little, further details started to stand out, as Jack’s eyes adjusted a bit to the hazy glare and the change of scale.

In the far distance, further yet, way up and looming high above the city, with its tall towers proud and awe-inspiring, stood a castle. The castle, and Jack’s heart clenched painfully as he finally came to the realization.

It was an awfully long stretch to cover. Still days away, if not an entire month in his sorry state.

Still, Jack had a feeling that Pitch had not made it that far yet. The knowledge of it firm in his heart. Echoed out, and confirmed as well as it could, by the hollow that spurred him ever on.

Truthfully, Jack knew, as the missing shard responded and urged him to move. Like a resilient lighthouse in the eye of the devastating storm - even if he could not tell how long yet it would be, Pitch was close.

-

The little town, that Jack came upon next, was a sleepy one. Its inhabitant all bored and hunkered down in the midst of waiting for spring to roll around. Thusly, no one cared to greet him, or stop him for that matter, as Jack staggered through the beaten, snow-free path, that had turned more dust than white from the numerous feet that had carried this and that back and forth between the houses, or simply been out and about for whatever reason that saw them moved.

Just as well, Jack had reckoned, as he bit into the fistful of snow that he had stolen from on top of the town’s wide, circling fence – that meant that no one would disturb him.

Not that many wanted to in the first place. Looking pale and dead on his feet as he did.

Of course, however, there was always the exception to the norm, and Jack had made it almost to the other end of the circling fence that framed the town, when the thundering beat of hooves surrounded him on either side. The exposed dust thick in the air. Causing him to cough from more reason than one, as the three mares were brought to circle him about.

Jack’s neck craned as he looked up. The hand that held the snow ridding itself of the fluffy white before it raised up to shield his eyes from the sun’s glare. Just barely, he could make out an unfriendly sneer under the brim of a wide hat. The greyed and pristine threads of the vest beneath, on which the bearer was wearing an awfully official broach.

Jack instantly recognized the crown's sigil. The cold beat in his veins constricting from the memories that it brought with it. The whispers of a house burned down. Of a cage. Of a stage and an announcer that would rather kick his teeth in than consider him an individual-

And there was no way that Pitch was already in charge. Nothing would have changed. Not this fast, at least.

‘’Name and origin of state,’’ the one on his right demanded as they brought out and then flipped through a heavy stack of papers which now rested to their thick thigh. The gloved finger, that skimmed along the written text, arriving at something that Jack did not overly care for.

Most likely though, it was the section for run-aways.

Jack kept walking. Determined to slip right through the slight gap left just ahead, as he ignored the way that one of the others, one with a stoic demeanor, slipped off their horse and made to block his path. Jack ignoring them still, as they closed that slight gap and promptly made to get a crude grip on his arm.

‘’I asked a question,’’ they roughed as they managed it. Gloved fingers digging into his upper arm without any care for the marks that they were sure to leave behind.

Jack just glared at them. His shattered core already hurting despite his newfound source, and really, he did not want to consider how bad this would have been if he had been without it. ‘’Pretty sure that was your other little buddy up there and not you, but go off I guess,’’ Jack clipped on a thin, raspy note of a hiss, as he threw a stiff nod at the other, still mounted collector.

Abruptly, the grip on his arm tightened even further. The collector at Jack’s side digging his heels into the dirt. Standing firmer, to keep him from running.

‘’Answer it,’’ the third, mounted collector that had had yet to speak up, roughed.

‘’Yeah, no- How about you piss off?’’ Jack painfully snapped, the sound hurting his throat, as he roughly jerked himself free and made to step around.

From there, it was all a blur of movement. The wind howling as Jack promptly called it to. The mares all frightened. Running off with no riders to guide them, as the lingering two on top got flung off from the sudden onslaught.

Swords were raised as soon as the collectors had managed to find their feet on the beaten path. As was a single staff with a crooked end. Jack’s vision filling with red, as a foreign type of rage, and indignant one, took over and made him move despite his tired state.

He acted. He danced upon the snow and dust and light array of blooming red already spreading out on the ground to his left. The move completely instinctual, as he called upon the very essence of winter and let it spill from the tips of his fingers. Let it wrap around the two remaining, to his right and in front, in a show of ice and wind and crude, fully focused malice.

There had been screams. There had been a brief moment of terror and confused regret as the last one realized their mistake and knew it all to be too late.

Now, however. Now, it was quiet. Jack finding himself on his haunches in the aftermath. Trembling hands rubbing over his tingling face. His source lying next to him in the reddened dirt. Heart hurting something fierce, as what little energy he had left rapidly slipped out, as the downed collector somewhere behind him struggled to catch a breath through their torn and broken throat.

He had not meant to send a shard of ice right through it. Had not meant to follow it up with a crooked spear whose end still wedged itself deep into the ground and thus kept the dying collector standing half-way upright in a perverse show of lethal, crushing power.

The other collectors had already passed.

Jack did not want to look at them. Did not want to see the extent of the damage, though he knew that it was equally rough. Equally swift in execution. Instead, he got up. His source snatched along and crushed against his chest as he started ahead again before he would not be able to.

-

The villagers in the next town over stayed clear off his path as he went through. Stayed well away from the walking corpse that stumbled ahead and through their midst.

They probably thought that he had the plague.

Jack certainly felt as though he had the plague.

Still, he made it through without much further issue.

-

He could not tell how long he had left. Could not tell how long he had already gone either, but the insistent dryness that marked the beginnings of thirst had started to make itself known for real.

There was no water to be found here, and there had not been for the last two days. As such, Jack had resorted to chewing on whatever evergreen leaves that he could find. Eyes more than once straying to the red clusters, that presented themselves along the snow-covered ground and that he very much wanted to sink his teeth into, but managed to keep away from.

No, he knew better than to touch any berry that he did not know the name of. Could very well remember the particularly harsh lesson that he had learned, back in his old village. The one that they had all learned.

The crops had failed that year. The whole village left to starve through the coming winter that claimed the lives of three. Then came spring. The village still hungry but hopeful, up until the moment that one of the little girls in the house next to his, the one with pigtails and a button nose, had ate from the wrong bush. The frayed threads, of the once lush and impressive carpets in her parents’ house, no longer graced by small feet as a result and never would be again.

And so, Jack kept walking. Too late as it were to stop now. Jack entirely too stubborn to turn back, as the hollow ache in his heart guided him forwards. The thrum of it strong. Like a rhythm on the air. A skip in the flow of a wild running river, as it shuddered through his veins and tugged on his heart, the closer that he got to his destination. The-

A cluster of overground roots hidden under the snow tripped him up, but somehow, Jack managed to remain standing. The front of his left foot screaming offense as he gritted his teeth, ignored the spreading red and continued through. Out over the wide, open fields and then down towards the city that stood as the suburbs to the capitol of Lunanoff.

-

The sun was nearly down. The polished cobble cold beneath his feet. The smell of sporadic horseshit rather potent, but not nearly as bad as the stale air of the cabin had been.

The tugging in his heart got firmer, here. Louder, somehow. An insistent, invisible thread pulling him forwards step by step, until Jack arrived at a little inn with a single light on in one of its soot-stained windows.

It wasn’t the inn that was the destination though, Jack knew – but he had to go through to get out into the yard that lay beyond.

The door creaked on its hinges as he pushed it open, and yet, no one stopped him. No one even so much as raised their heads from their sleepy positions at the tables that littered the inn, and so, Jack made it through to the door that led out into the backyard.

It was circular in shape. Seven additional doorframes, in various states of crooked, leading into smaller houses and single rooms alike. Some shielded by doors. Some only sporting a light curtain to allow for a bit of privacy, but it was cozy. Homey, in its welcoming manner. The laundry, that had been hung up to dry in the open, telling of trust between the inhabitants. The worn fabrics of them gently moving in the wind. Slightly wet, as they brushed against Jack’s hunched shoulders.

Jack stopped while he was still swaddled in the shadows under the cover of the inn’s ancient roof. His whole body on the verge of collapsing. Fatigue finally catching up on him now that it could no longer be ignored.

He must have looked like a ghost, standing there in the dark. Pale as a sheet and shivering from the fever that had never really let up. The soles of his bare feet bleeding. Breaths baited and raw, as he stared.

Pitch was chopping wood. The axe that he had raised high coming down with a whoosh. Sharp head perfectly separating the timber, as Jack just continued to stare at his turned back. Stunned, that he had made it at all. Observing, as the strong muscles worked under Pitch’s lightly clinging shirt.

Pitch bent down to place the smaller of the two cleaved pieces into the waiting bucket right beside. The other, bigger one, placed on top of the chopping block again before he raised the axe anew.

It came down with another sharp sound of lethal metal effortlessly gliding through splitting air, and Jack’s throat would not work quite right. His lips cracked. Eyes puffy from dehydration. Chest making an awful noise as he attempted it anyway and Pitch abruptly stiffened. The cleaved pieces ignored, as his hand found its way around the axe wedged deep into the wood of the chopping block. Gaze narrowed. As cold as it was focused, as he turned.

His raven hair was unkept and fallen at a wild abandon despite how he had obviously attempted to keep it back. The shadows twitching at a warning, as Pitch finally noted the shaded figure behind him. A stark, cold beat of fear crawling its way down Jack’s spine as their eyes met, yet Pitch did not recognize him.

‘’Show yourself,’’ Pitch had demanded. Tone lethally stern. The hold on the axe tightened, and Jack could not reply. Tongue too swollen and raw. Instead, the latter just swayed dangerously on his feet. Thighs trembling, as he managed the last step forwards and into the slight light from the swelling moon.

The move had proven too much, however. Head already starting to lull back on its own as soon as the silvery rays caressed Jack’s cheek. Blinding him, as the cold shivers that ran through his veins made him feel raw and lightheaded.

Pitch abruptly stopped. The axe abandoned. Brilliant eyes like golden fire, as bright as the morning sun overtaken by a light array of rain-filled clouds, widened in recognition the second before Jack’s knees gave out. And Pitch, in his surprised state - despite how swiftly he had rushed, despite how the darkness flared up to aid and assist - did not manage to catch him in time.

Chapter Text

Jack woke up in a bed. An actual one. A shitty one, arguably, but a bed, nonetheless. The blanket, that was draped over him, thick and warm. A scratchy type of wool, Jack reckoned, as he blinked his eyes open and stared at the boards of the crooked ceiling so awfully close above him.

There was a scent of candlewax on the air. The underlying hint of moist soil and root fruits not too uncomfortable, but it was there. The strands of the robust, woven carpet, that framed his low bed, rough and coarse against the tips of his bandaged feet, as he managed to swing his legs out over the side of it and down.

Somewhere in the distance, a burst of laughter rang out. Clear traces of merriment on the air. The snow outside, albeit thin, Jack found, as he turned his head to look - steadily falling. Layering itself against the slight edge of the window and rendering about a third part of the pane white. The bustling sounds, of the city further out, hinting at flourishing activity, as Jack abandoned the comfort and warmth of the blanket and managed it up into a standing.

He should definitely not be up yet. Head swimming from the fever that had barely broken, but he could manage.

And he would.

A string of garlic brushed his shoulder, as Jack took the first slightly wobbly step ahead. His newfound source, hooked over one of the sturdy beams that held up the ceiling as it were, swaying a bit back and forth, as he reached out a hand to touch it. Before him, around and behind as well, several buckets full of potatoes, kale, and what looked like parsnips, flanked the walls. Two large barrels likewise standing on either side of the doorless frame, with a thin curtain, that led into what appeared to be a kitchen.

It was as much, Jack found, as he left the, arguably rather crammed, pantry that he had apparently been sleeping in, behind – the kitchen here sporting a perfectly black stove, a table, five chairs, a bench, and a dormant hearth that was yet covered with enough fresh ash that Jack knew that it had been in use not an awfully long time ago.

There was a door opposite his own that led into another. The door firmly closed, but beside for that, there was nothing else to be traversed. No further rooms or nooks, and so, Jack turned to face the exit.

As in were with the pantry, no door sat in the empty frame at the front, either. Nothing but a second curtain separating the little house and that of the backyard beyond. The whole of the circular shape outside covered in snow as well as the window had been, he found, as Jack drew the curtain aside and stepped out.

The stone was smooth and cold beneath his bandaged feet. Moisture seeping into the carefully wrapped fabrics. The snow crunching softly, as he went through. All the way to the door that he had stumbled out of just the night before and went inside.

It was warmer here. A lot warmer. The few people, positioned in the corner and playing cards, looking up and over in Jack’s direction for a beat, before they lost interest and continued their game.

‘’Ah,’’ a chipper voice offered to the left. What appeared the innkeeper, leaned against the counter of a massive desk shielding the entrance to what seemed another kitchen or pantry. The surface of the desk itself covered by a rather generous stack of mismatched bowls. ‘’You must be the fainty one,’’ she roughed, as she briskly dried her hands off in the stained apron sat around her waist. Dark brown hair twisted up into a tight but messy bun bouncing a bit from the moment as she inclined her head at him.

Jack offered a rather stiff shrug right back. The movement aggravating the ache in the back of his neck. ‘’I suppose,’’ he agreed. Throat parched and aching from sickness, as he rubbed a hand over it. ‘’Have you seen Pitch?’’ he pressed, as shortly as he could to not irritate it any further. ‘’-Tall, dark and spooky,’’ he nevertheless added as he gestured out with his free hand.

The innkeeper waved him off. ‘’At work, that one,’’ she relayed as she pointed Jack to a chair near the softly crackling hearth, in which a huge, steaming pot sat squarely inside. The contents seemingly kept at a constant boil. ‘’Found himself a contract for the week through,’’ she concluded. Hands hardened by long and tedious labor finding his slightly tremoring shoulders and guiding him with, as Jack, slightly dazed, remained standing by the door.

Jack was forcefully sat down. Already half collapsed against the table itself by the time that the innkeeper drew back and made to grab a fire poker from an iron hook on the wall. One knee settled to the floor, before she rummaged around the smoldering embers.

‘’Where’s that at?’’ Jack pressed, just as a loud crackle, from the timber in the hearth popping, rang out.

‘’The old mill,’’ the innkeeper relayed, though that hardly brought Jack any closer to knowing the exact location, or distance, for that matter. Direction the only thing that he could sense. ‘’Think it’s to do with washing, but I ain’t got no certainties on that. He should be back by nightfall, though. It’s only a single shift for tonight if I got it right.’’

Jack hummed as the other stood up again. The fire poker placed back to hang from its iron hook before she trailed away. Back to the desk and the massive stack of bowls. ‘’I’m Katherine, by the way,’’ Katherine offered, and Jack only felt a little guilty for not having immediately asked.

‘’Jack,’’ he nevertheless offered back.

Katherine nodded. Clearly not one bit offended by his lacking manners. ‘’Care for some stew?’’ she trotted on.

Jack’s stomach immediately agreed. His mouth, however, did not. ‘’I ain’t got the coin,’’ he roughed. Hands numb, where they raked over his clammy face.

Katherine waved him off. Single hand already on top of the bowls and having picked one out. ‘’It comes with the room. Two meals and all, and you already missed the first,’’ she reassured, as she found her way back to the huge, steaming pot. ‘’Besides, it’s already paid for. Ain’t no stress for anyone that way. It’s better, you see.’’

Jack pressed the meat of his palms into his stinging eyes. Willing his headache to let up.

He supposed that was Pitch’s treat, then.

Somehow, he would have to see the favor returned.

‘’A bowl would be nice,’’ Jack finally agreed as he lightly parted his fingers, to which Katherine hummed and then poured the contents into the chosen one. The kink in her posture, as she stood up, obvious now that Jack was paying attention.

Katherine hummed. The sound light but disinterested.

‘’Had the whole house in a panic yesterday, you did. Gave us all quite the scare,’’ she roughed on a renewed beat of pace, as though the abrupt change in conversation made any sense, but alas, Jack reckoned – such it simply tended to be with busy folk. ‘’Especially the dark one,’’ Katherine huffed on, just as the filled bowl was sat down in front of Jack. A slightly bend spoon clattering to the sticky wood of the table right beside a moment later. ‘’-Came running in asking for aid. Ain’t think I’ve ever seen old William be up that fast and down on his knees outside before either.’’

In the corner, one of the men briefly abandoned his cards to flick his fingers to the ceiling. ‘’Aye,’’ the man, that Jack supposed must be old William, agreed on a bright note. Clearly acknowledging the conversation, though he did not partake any further. Attention back on the game that he appeared to be losing.

‘’I assume you are acquainted? The dark one and yourself,’’ Katherine asked. Narrowed eyes full of a heavy sense of scrutiny that Jack did not know what to make of.

‘’We traveled, yeah,’’ Jack answered back on a raspy, thin note. ‘’Got separated.’’

That at least seemed to give the other pause. ‘’Ah,’’ the tone had softened a bit under Jack’s solemn own. ‘’Not a pleasant tale I take it?’’

Jack briefly stared into the dark behind his clinging eyelids. ‘’Not really,’’ he gruffed before looking down at his stew. The slight orange of carrots, amongst the murky browns, the only bright colour in the bowl. ‘’What happened exactly?’’

Katherine shrugged. ‘’Dunno,’’ she shrugged again. ‘’-Said you’d drawn ill and needed a bed and a blanket. So,’’ she nodded her head towards the circular yard. ‘’Fog was willing to switch rooms with you three in order to get the bed that we fetched for you, into the pantry of his old,’’ she relayed. ‘’Got some water in you while you were out as well before tall William carried you along.’’

You three, Jack mused as he grabbed a hold of the spoon, fingers shaking, fogging up the bended steel as he dug in – Supposedly, that must be Seraphina that was the third, then.

‘’Where’s she at?’’ Jack asked, as he gently blew on the spoonful. ‘’The girl.’’

‘’With Kailash, my daughter,’’ Katherine named another individual, that Jack had yet to be introduced to. ‘’At the sanctuary during the day until you all move on. Safer that way, really.’’

It got quiet for a moment. Then, a set of knuckles rapped to the countertop. The sound slightly urgent.

‘’-Say, I’ve already stressed it, but that man needs to pay for all of you. Kid or not that little girl, you’re three now. Not to mention the mess you made yesterday, scaring my customers and all- so he gotta pay in full.’’

Jack gave a serious nod as he kept his focus on the stew. The thoroughly cooked carrots mushy and slightly sweet against his tongue. ‘’I’ll let him know,’’ he agreed and mercifully, Katherine left him alone after that.

And so, Jack ate the rest of his stew. The far-too-salty mixture warming him right through. All the way to his shivering bones. The warmth lingering still, as Jack got up and managed to push the used chair in on his own. ‘’Thanks,’’ he roughed. Whole body feeling prickly in his standing state.

Swiftly, Katherine waved him off when Jack went to snatch the bowl and bring it over.

‘’Leave it. I’ll take it. Just you go and rest up for now, yes? I’d rather not have a corpse on my hands. Bad for business and all,’’ she rasped and only somewhat sounded as if she were joking. Still, Katherine paused, as Jack started his wobbly walk back towards the door leading out into the backyard. ‘’Can you manage on your own?’’ she called after him, to which Jack’s hand clapped twice to the old frame of it.

‘’Yeah,’’ Jack’s raspy wisp of a voice pressed back as he passed through and then went out onto the cold stone of the yard. ‘’Thanks, though.’’

-

The crammed pantry had obviously not been built to fit a bed in it at all, Jack reckoned, as he managed it all the way in – Still, it was by far warmer than that of the kitchen, or the outside, for that matter. The woolen blanket offering the rest of the barrier against the cold that he needed, and really, Jack settled right then and there, as he climbed back under it, the curtain at the front blowing gently inwards in the breeze that swept through the snow-covered yard – this was by far preferable to that of the bread-smelling cabin that already seemed a faraway memory.

Now, Jack settled, as he, still exhausted as he were, promptly closed his eyes and settled a bit deeper under the blanket – Now he just needed for Pitch to end his shift and return.

Preferably safe. Preferably soon.

In a matter of seconds, Jack had passed out again.

-

Jack woke to the bustling of activity in the circular yard outside. The sound of several individuals returning. Doors opening and closing all around out there. The clinking of pottery, and other food-related activities, just loud enough to give the idea of scale,

Most of the houses and rooms were clearly occupied.

A good hour passed however, before a pair of feet made their way over the floor of the kitchen. The wielder obviously trying to keep their steps light, as they brought the gentle glow of a single lit candle along. The pinpoint of light drifting through the air. Subdued, until they made it all the way up, and then stayed right outside of the pantry for a prolonged beat.

Another passed, before an awkward elbow managed to shimmy its way around the curtain. Drawing it aside, just enough, for the wielder to peek their head in.

Jack recognized her instantly, as long raven hair cascaded over Seraphina’s shoulder. A bowl of what smelled like mashed potatoes in her hand. The lit candle in the other.

She looked rather irritated. The aggressive demeanor of someone deeply on edge at the addition of a stranger in what was, at least for the time, her home.

Regardless, she made her way inside. Stride secure. Spine straight.

‘’Katherine said that you’d woken up,’’ she clipped. The tone stern and regal. A driving force of nature. Unhurried yet hesitant to turn her back even for a second, as she placed the bowl next to Jack’s given bed and then went to the barrel furthest away from the window. Here, she placed the lit candle down first, then retrieved the other two wedged securely under her arm. Lit those. Left the two, and then grabbed the third to place to the windowsill instead.

Jack’s eyes felt sweaty as he squinted against the faint light. Observing the way that its shine illuminated the squared mountain of white that had collected outside during the day. ‘’I’m up,’’ he agreed. Hissing voice sounding as if someone was trying to force a raccoon through a pipe full of cotton.

Or it felt like it, at least.

Seraphina just raised an unimpressed brow at him as she turned. Chin raised. ‘’Pretty sure you are down right now,’’ she snubbed. A teasing edge to her tone despite the rudeness, and Jack could not help it. His lips spreading over a bright grin as he, while still reclined, managed it onto his side.

‘’I’m Jack,’’ he offered, as he reached for the bowl of, he had correctly assumed, potato mush. Keeping it in his lap as he sat up enough to eat.

‘’Seraphina Pitchiner Black,’’ she offered back, just as Jack grabbed the spoon and managed to somewhat hold it secure. The grin easing into a small wistful smirk.

‘’Bless you.’’

Seraphina, evidently, did not quite have the same type of humor as Jack did. Her eyes acutely narrowed, and Jack had not even said anything else. Did not get the time too, either, as Seraphina glared at him before huffing something clearly offensive.

Such foul words from someone so young, Jack had thought as he bit into the slightly grainy mush. The taste entirely too salty but a relief after days with nothing but evergreen leaves and snow to keep him fed – But at least, it had not sounded too terribly offended, if just a tad on guard, he mused on, as he watched her elegantly turn on her heel and stride away. Right out the same way she had come in.

‘’Try not to choke. I think we’d somehow have to pay double for that,’’ she called right back in way of parting, the second before the only door in the house opened and then promptly slammed shut.

Jack decided right then and there that he liked her.

-

It was several hours later when the curtain that led out into the yard was drawn aside again. A set of heavy boots making their way over the floors in the kitchen. Dragging snow and mud with them, before they were discarded under the bench near the table.

Jack heard the door on the other end open. Then close again. A muffled conversation taking place, before it abruptly drew quiet.

After a few beats, the chatter continued. Softer this time. More heartfelt, and Jack entirely felt as if he were intruding. Gaze drifting to the window, as he hoped to distract himself from the semi-private interaction.

The sun had gone completely down. The pale, silvery light from the full moon illuminating what he could see, of the opposite wall of the yard, in its ghostly glow. The room around him mostly bathed in a pleasant dimness, just on the right side of bright, as well. The two remaining candles only adding further to the agreeable visibility.

It was a couple of minutes more before the chatter finally died down. The door opening. Closing. Lithe feet making their way through the kitchen. Towards the pantry and finally, Jack felt a beat of restless energy shoot through him. The mattress of his bed creaking softly as he hoisted himself up on an elbow to at least sit up a bit.

An eternal beat seemed to pass.

Then, the curtain drew aside and despite his nerves, despite everything, Jack felt a genuine smile take to his features. Fondness flooding his chest as his eyes met with brilliant gold in the flickering candlelight.

If anything, Pitch seemed equally stunned.

‘’Hey,’’ Jack’s hoarse voice managed to croak out. Legs already hallway out over the bed, and Pitch just about looked as if he had been punched. The clawed hand that was caught in the thin fabrics of the curtain blindly flicking it behind him before he fully entered, hissed an urgent little noise and swiftly rushed to Jack’s side.

‘’Stay down,’’ Pitch urged as he kneeled. The hand on Jack’s shoulder gentle but insistent, as it applied pressure. ‘’Just please, stay down, Jack- You are not well.’’

Jack threw him a look. Brow slightly raised. ‘’I'm fine,’’ Jack rasped, to which Pitch’s mouth just thinned even further. Thumb gingerly gliding over Jack’s thin shoulder as he held his gaze.

‘’No, you are not.’’

A long moment passed.

Then, Jack laid back down, though he stayed on his side. Facing the other, just as Pitch sat back on his haunches. The tops of his thighs touching to the underside of the bed as he leaned closer.

It could hardly be comfortable like that. Still, Pitch did not seem to care. Most of his attire - Jack noted, as the hand on his shoulder moved in to press against the skin of his neck, checking for a break in the fever or perhaps just to be close - covered in dust and a fine hint of soil. The marks of hard, tedious labor littering his form.

If the tic between Pitch’s brows was anything to go by however, then the check-up had hardly been satisfactory. Pitch seeming hesitant, as the hand came to hover a bit beside Jack’s head. Seemingly uncertain if he was even allowed to touch any further- And that would not do. Not even for a second. The clawed hand, that Jack managed to snatch in his own before it could retrieve, red and raw from tedious repetition. Twitching slightly in his grip as Jack held it close, at the level of his ear. Pitch’s breath shuddering, as Jack proceeded to turn his cheek and nuzzle into it.

‘’We,’’ Pitch sounded awfully unsure of himself. Strangely forlorn and entirely off kilter as he visibly swallowed. Still, the palm on Jack’s person finally relaxed. Clawed thumb tracing a bit out over the delicate skin beneath Jack’s stinging eye. ‘’We managed to get a bit of water in you while you slept. Tall William and I, that is-’’ he offered.

‘’So Katherine told me,’’ Jack roughed with a small glance towards the general direction of the inn. Jack guiding the hand on him down until he could hold it at the level of his heart instead. Fingers gingerly interlocking while the other moved up to cover both.

Pitch’s slight smile seemed tired as he looked at their joined hands. Eyes growing a bit vacant, though truthfully, Jack was just as unsure of the whole thing as well. Even more so, as the brilliant stare of gold settled back on his own again.

Pitch drew a slowed, grounding breath. The sound achingly tender.

‘’You came back,’’ he pressed. The hesitant statement sounding almost like a question.

Jack could only offer up a small smile in return. Hoping, that it at least seemed firm. ‘’I did,’’ he agreed, to which Pitch’s lips grew a tad thin.

‘’Why?’’

It sounded as if he knew but needed the reassurance.

‘’-Told you I’m with you, didn’t I?’’ Jack pressed. ‘’I wanted to be there, with you, when we left. I still do. I didn’t-’’ it was all a little too much, really, but it had to be said. No matter how much it hurt to speak, it had to be said aloud. To be made real. ‘’I didn’t want to leave,’’ Jack settled. ‘’I didn’t mean to leave- especially not like that after everything that had happened, but it…’’

Pitch’s gaze grew heavy as Jack trailed off. Neither saying anything.

It was silent for a grand beat. Pitch looked off to the side. Then,

‘’How much is left of the week?’’ Jack pressed, to which Pitch’s lashes fluttered. Clearly a bit blindsided by the question, though he did not judge.

‘’Three days,’’ Pitch relayed, just as his gold met with Jack’s own again. ‘’We will stay until you are well enough to travel,’’ he relayed the second before his lip twitched a bit. ‘’If... you wish to come along, that is.’’

Jack cracked a tiny huff. The sound pleased despite everything. ‘’I do,’’ he reassued. ‘’And I’m fine,’’ Jack immediately said again, and while Pitch instantly seemed relieved for the first, he glared for the second. No real heat to it, though his tone was dry.

‘’No, you are not,’’ he repeated. ‘’Gods, Jack-‘’ Pitch pressed. A bit of renewed energy seeming to take to the line of his shoulders as the clawed hand in Jack’s clenched. A hint of teeth visible in the midst of the lingering, stress-induced sneer. ‘’You were so very pale. Barely breathing. It-‘’ Pitch swallowed something thick. Eyes briefly falling shut, and abruptly, he seemed far more worn than anything as his gold found equally tired blue again. ‘’Fog was not sure that you would make it. Insisted that we would all just have to wait and see, and I had wanted to-… You were finally here, and then to find out… To find out that I might not even get a chance to talk all of this through with you. Our mess of a relation, and the fact that I wanted you to come with me once it was all over. Once we were free to do as much. It…’’ Pitch did not finish that last sentence.

Jack did not press. Simply waited, until Pitch shook his head a little. Gold clearly pained.

Evidently, however, he was not going to continue. And so,

‘’Hey,’’ Jack tried for casual and knew that he had entirely missed the mark. ‘’I managed, didn’t I? I’m here, yeah? I got back to you.’’

Pitch’s small sigh sounded more tired than anything. The clawed thumb careful, as it caressed out over his knuckles. Gaze still achingly fond as it found Jack’s anew. ‘’You have done well, my dear heart,’’ he relayed, to which Jack just hummed. Still awfully sleepy as he were.

Pitch’s did not seem offended. The kiss that he laid to the back of Jack’s hand understanding in its press. Lips lingering for a beat. Then,

‘’Do you wish for me to leave?’’ Pitch offered as he lowered Jack’s hand back down again. Genuine care in his tone, despite his obvious need to be close.

Jack squeezed his hand for it. The small shake of his head entirely too stiff, but he could not do much about it. ‘’A little longer, if you don’t mind?’’ he pressed before he raised a shoulder at a semi-shrug. ‘’Or you could just spend the night? Unless you’re afraid of pantries. Or parsnips. Or-’’

Pitch’s sharp inhale cut him right off. Something clearly bothered in the shadow that passed through his eye. ‘’She cannot be alone, Jack. Sera is...’’ Pitch trailed off. Then sighed. ‘’Forgive me,’’ he started again. ‘’She cannot be alone and she cannot have a stranger in her bed either, and there is only the one except for this,’’ Pitch relayed as he nodded down to Jack’s.

Jack frowned a bit. Fully unwilling to press the issue any further. No, he fully understood. Could very well remember Emma’s own night-terrors that had left her unable to sleep unless she had company. His company, specifically, and at the end of the day, Jack dreaded to think on what Seraphina might have seen. What she might have experienced, under Jamie’s care.

Or the lack of it.

‘’I am sorry,’’ Pitch pressed and sounded sincere enough that Jack wanted to hug him for it.

Later, he would. For now, Jack just shook his head. Not one bit upset. ‘’Don’t think about it. It’s alright. I’m just glad you can be there for her.’’

That, at least, seemed to bring the other a wistful smile. The edges pained. ‘’As am I.’’

It got quiet for a beat. Each second feeling heavier.

Then, something within Pitch seemed to break. The tension fizzling out of him at an alarming rate. ‘’After we separated,’’ Pitch’s voice had gotten awfully low. ‘’I thought-‘’ a clawed hand settled to his own chest. Right over his heart. ‘’I knew you weren't. It kept pulsating. I felt it, but I thought-‘’ Pitch could not quite finish that sentence either. Jack entirely aware that he might not ever be able to.

‘’Hey,’’ Jack pressed again. Hoping to sound reassuring despite how hoarse his voice remained. ‘’It’s alright. It’s alright, Pitch- we made it, yeah? We made it through. That fucker is dead and we’re still here,’’ Jack shrugged as much as he were able, ‘’-somewhat in one piece, but we’re here and we did it. We did it. We got through, and I got back to you,’’ Jack pressed, as he threw the other a winning smirk, to which Pitch just closed his eyes. Too many emotions claiming his face all at once, and it was enough, it was enough- all of it, Jack leaning up on the elbow of the arm, that still held the other’s hand, so that he could tug on Pitch’s clawed own in an attempt to regain his attention. To tug him closer. Tug him down.

Still, it took an unreasonably long time before Pitch got the memo. The flare of brilliant gold tired but willing, as he gracefully bowed his head to claim Jack’s lips. The soft press of them unhurried. Gentle in their approach, as Jack kissed back with as much passion as his thoroughly exhausted state and the odd angle would allow.

Pitch stayed mindful of his injuries, and it was all that Jack could do not to breathe out a shaky sigh of contentment. The edges slightly desperate despite his tired state, as he snaked an arm around Pitch’s neck to keep him in place just a bit longer. The embrace loose. Accepting a retreat if wanted but needing the closeness.

In turn, a hand worked its way around Jack’s head. Claws gingerly skimming through his hair before the palm cradled the back of it. Holding him up and tilting his head ever so slightly back to allow for Pitch to deepen the kiss, and Jack all but melted. The soft moan staying in the back of his throat, as his nails gently bit into Pitch’s shoulder as his arm started to tremble from the light strain. Jack wanting to anchor himself and yet entirely becoming lost in the process.

The concept of time seemed a distant idea for both, it would seem. At least for a moment, before the hand still in Jack’s squeezed before Pitch started to draw back. Throat making a pained little click as he nevertheless stayed close.

Pitch let out a slowed exhale. Breath skimming across Jack’s grinning mouth as he seemed to deflate a little.

‘’I have been considering something,’’ Pitch started, as he traced a nonsensical pattern into the back of the hand in his. ‘’I felt you, Jack. I felt you move. I.... felt you. Alive and breathing. I could tell where you were. The direction of it. I could not tell if you were coming closer or drawing away, but all of the rest, it-’’ Pitch sounded awfully hesitant. The hand behind Jack’s head moving out. Settling deep into the mattress. His eyes a tad intense as he drew back enough to look at him proper.

‘’I swore to myself, that if I ever got the chance to do so, then I wanted to offer you a piece of my core in return for the one that I stole,’’ Pitch pressed, to which Jack just blinked. A tad stunned. ‘’Do you want a shard of mine, Jack?’’ Pitch asked. ‘’Do you want mine instead of getting your own back?’’ The hand in Jack’s clenched. Pitch awfully determined. ‘’That way, we may always find each other. That way, we will both have a strengthened sense of defense against anyone that would dare attempt to move against either of us. You, with your element. Me, with my shade. Cold and darkness. Ice and fear. We would be able to use both and be all the stronger for it.’’

Jack blinked on for a few beats. Then, his brow furrowed. ‘’Wouldn't it hurt though? It's... It's been hurting me a lot.’’

Pitch’s gold seemed heavy. Mouth pinched a little. ‘’I do not know,’’ he said truthfully. ‘’But I have a theory that it hurts because your core, in this present state, is, in fact, not whole,’’ Pitch explained, as he raised a hand and placed it to his own chest. Just above his heart. ‘’Jamie’s core did not hurt him, as he had stolen enough from others to fill his own. As does it not hurt me to have yours, Jack,’’ he explained. Head lowered ever so slightly to get his point across. ‘’And, if I give you a piece of mine, then perhaps yours would simply slide into that vacant space and fill it up. Completing it.’’

Jack hummed. Thinking it over. ‘’Do you think it could be reversed? If one of us, or both, end up not wanting it?’’

Pitch’s lashes fluttered at the creeping scent of victory. Jack’s building interest not one bit lost on him. ‘’If done quickly enough, then yes,’’ he said. ‘’Yours have... started to integrate with mine. It is becoming a part of me. Not merging as per say, but it is there. The edges of the shard fusing with my own core to protect it. To keep it whole. Or a part of the whole, if you will.’’

He was in. Jack was in. Of course, he was- The twitch of his lip betraying as much. ‘’Alright,’’ Jack agreed. ‘’Alright, we’ll do it.’’

From there, Pitch had gotten up onto the bed and kneeled before him. Then obeying the movement, as Jack pushed him back until the other sat down enough so that Jack could straddle him. Letting Pitch take his slight weight and keep him upright.

‘’So,’’ Jack started, as he leaned his head on Pitch’s shoulder and willed the room to stop spinning. ‘’I guess it’s the same procedure as last time. Just reversed?’’ he pressed.

‘’Something like that, yes,’’ Pitch agreed, as one of his hands curled around the edge of the shelf beside them to hold on. Stern fingers clutching at the wood, as the other found its way around Jack’s middle to keep him secure.

For a moment, they just breathed.

Then, Jack softly cleared his throat. The tip of a tongue darting out to wet his lips before he leaned in. Softly pressing against Pitch, just as the other took a deep breath to brace himself.

It took a moment. Nothing at all happening at first, but then, it seemed as though something within Jack’s chest started to vibrate. The hollow ache in his chest feeling like a gaping wound, as the shattered edges responded to the missing shard that was so achingly close. The pressure increasing further, until it managed to reach out. Softly colliding with something else. Finding the return denied, and then it pulled. Coaxing at first, gently, before it abruptly tugged. A yanking sensation, as though Jack was trying to find his footing in the midst of a storm.

It hurt. It did not hurt quiet as much to receive it, but it so obviously hurt Pitch as well, and in the end, Jack realized, as a soft little mewl, that came disturbingly close to a pained whimper, pressed itself into his open mouth and the shelf beside them cracked in half under the crude strain of Pitch’s clutching hand – it was not so much Jack taking it as it was Pitch pushing it through. The feel of it like scratchy fingers slipping down the back of Jack's throat. Coating his insides in white and black and red until it all ruthlessly collided with his own tingling core and curled up tight in the space that had been vacant. The space, that Jack's already stolen shard was claiming for itself in Pitch, equally filling out, before something in them both just clicked.

It was a strange feeling. Connected, as they were in that moment. Like two mirrors held up in front of each other and reflecting each of their physical attributes while still staying perfectly whole.

Both had access to the other. Both were their own.

And then it was over. The transfer of energy sealed. The gifted shard pulsating in Jack’s core where it sat snugly. Tight, in that vacant little space. Like a boulder in the middle of a river. The water running wild and free around it. Not one bit bothered, but it was unmistakably there.

He could breathe easier. A lot, actually, and Jack had not quite realized just how bad it had been. How hollow, his tingling core had echoed.

Or, he had, Jack knew, as a rather large chunk of wood fell from the death-grip that Pitch had been keeping on the broken shelf - He had just opted to ignore it.

Now, Pitch’s slightly shaky hand drew back to embrace Jack as well. Arms tight around him. Face buried in his neck for stability. A ragged breath skimming his skin, as Jack, a little winded himself, managed his own arms around Pitch in turn.

It was a strange sensation. Strange, in the sense that Jack could feel the shadows. Could feel them, but through another source. As though he were touching the leaves of a tree and felt the roots respond to his call.

If he pressed just a little though. Just a simple push, and-

Pitch abruptly shuddered, as Jack managed to make the shadows around the flickering candles sway. Jack raking his nails over his scalp in the aftermath for it. Soothing the other, as best as he could. ‘’Does it hurt?’’ Jack asked to which Pitch shook his head.

‘’It's...’’ his voice was heavy. Obviously tired, ‘’-a different sensation. As if there is wind in my veins, dragging me forwards,’’ Pitch relayed, as both of his arms slid a bit down. Around Jack’s middle instead before Pitch, face still in his neck, practically collapsed against him. ‘’Not much, per say. But it is there.’’

A long moment passed in quiet. Then, the shadows around the candles flickered again, as Jack started to get a feel for it. Not that it was easy. Not by a longshot, but the responding core, that he had stolen the shard from, allowed for a bit of control. Aiding him, as Jack successfully made the shadows thicken and thus managed to snuff a candle.

Pitch hummed. The sound as acute as it was distracted. Seemingly pleased by the outcome as he thought something over. Then, he surrendered a hand down to the bed, and moments later, a light layer of frost spread out. Swirly patterns weaving their way out from his spread fingers.

Pitch drew back a tad. Just enough to meet Jack’s gaze. ‘’Does it still hurt you in turn?’’ he asked, and Jack could not help but grin at the prospect.

‘’No,’’ Jack, more than a little delighted, answered.

No, his core was indeed whole again. Not entirely his own anymore, but the tiny shard, that he had been gifted, was so obviously a part of him, now. Foreign, perhaps, in the same way that the numerous scars, that littered Pitch’s skin, was a foreign part of him and yet a bigger piece of the whole.

‘’It sorta just tickles,’’ Jack concluded and fully meant it. The sensation in his chest marginally faded already. Reduced to a quiet buzz in the center of his heart. Ready, if he needed it, and Jack had kissed him for it. Had kissed Pitch with all the energy that he did not have. The pace slow and gentle, until a soft, subtle, shuffling motion had sounded outside of the curtain and drew them both back into the present.

Seraphina was listening in. No doubt alerted by the noise of her father’s pain. The shelf breaking. Or both.

Pitch let out a soft sigh. The man quiet for a moment. Gold knowing, as he looked at Jack in a slightly apologetic manner. ‘’I have to start the fire,’’ Pitch relayed on a tone that held far more strength to it than he looked to possess in that present moment. ‘’These nights get awfully cold without it.’’

Jack simply nodded. Throat hurting from the amount of speaking that he had subjected it to, but he was glad that they had.

Still, despite what he had said, Pitch stayed. Hands clutching Jack close, as though he was afraid that the other would slip away from him if he did not. Seconds drifting into nothing. A near minute passing by, until Jack was the one to gently push the other away.

‘’You gotta,’’ Jack said as he made a vague gesture with his hands. As though striking two rods together. Hands coming out to imitate something expanding, before warming his hands against it. ‘’You know,’’ he prodded with a slight wiggle of his brow. The teasing edge to his tone obvious. ‘’And I gotta sleep, you know. This is lovely and all, but I’m kinda passing out. So,’’ Jack tapped the tip of Pitch’s nose with a finger. ‘’Go do your thing, sweetheart.’’

‘’Yes,’’ Pitch agreed. His gaze a bit vacant, as though far away for a moment. ‘’Right,’’ he mumbled. ‘’Fire. The fire- yes, of course.’’

It was arguably strange to see him this lost for words. This lost in general, and Jack leaned in to press a lingering kiss to his temple for it. ‘’We’ll get another chance to speak pretty soon, yeah?’’ he urged. ‘’Gods know I’m not done talking, and I doubt you are either, but you gotta go now- okay? Sera needs you and I… I need to pass the fuck out,’’ Jack insisted, as he pressed their foreheads together for a fleeting beat.

Another creak sounded by the curtain, and Pitch seemed to snap out of it. His gold far less illuminated with there only being one candle left, but the fond look in them was unmistakable, as was the hesitancy. The notion of both only growing stronger yet, as he nodded.

‘’Soon,’’ Pitch promised.

‘’Soon,’’ Jack sealed with one last chaste kiss pressed to the way too serious lips before him.

If anything, the hints of the soft smile, that broke over Pitch’s face for it, seemed to smother the worst of his tension. The look on his face almost cautious, as he snaked a hand around the bend of Jack’s neck. Claws careful, as they drew him back in again for a final kiss that was anything but chaste. Soundless, perhaps. But filled with an underlying promise for more.

‘’Right then,’’ Pitch’s content tone settled as he gently, carefully, tipped Jack backwards. Back onto the bed. The position kept as decent as Pitch could, as he drew backwards. Out of the cradle of Jack’s thighs. Further back yet, before he stood. Grabbed the edge of the heavy blanket and delicately tugged it up and over the other. ‘’Rest,’’ Pitch agreed, as he leaned down. Lips soft, as they settled to Jack’s forehead. ‘’Rest, my dear heart,’’ he urged, to which Jack’s smile turned bright and pleased. As warm as it was happy. ‘’Rest. Rest now, and let us speak once you are able.’’

Claws gingerly caressed Jack’s cheek at a final farewell. The last candle snuffed on its own, before Pitch turned to leave. The soft chatter, that immediately broke out at a hiss right outside, sounding urgent. Worried, as Seraphina started pelting her father with questions.

Patiently though, Jack could hear the soft tones that came in return. The reassuring words that Pitch offered her in the face of her own frights. The two managing the nervous tension that had clearly built in her, until Seraphina finally huffed. Then sighed. Then swallowed something thick and seemed to accept it. Her heart settled. Not at peace, exactly, but settled enough that Pitch could guide her back to the room with the door. Tuck her in, and then leave to go stoke the fire before rejoining her for the night.

Back in the pantry, Jack had already settled in. Snug and warm under the heavy blanket, as he closed his eyes, and was out like a light.