Tooth sighed. It was dark and nighttime at the tooth palace, and the fairy queen was now lying in her soft bed, told by her daughters to get some sleep for once. Of course, they had been saying that for nearly four months now, but even if she wanted to she could never truly slumber, no matter how much dream sand Sandy delivered. For the past 124 days (she was involuntarily keeping track) she had not slept, eaten, or really talked at all. Her immortality dulled and delayed the normal consequences, but it was slowly catching up with her. She left her oldest fairy, Vivian, in charge of directing her girls to the correct destinations, knowing that Baby Tooth, once so energetic and bright, was feeling the pain just as sharply as her mother.

For the first time, Tooth felt her eyelids grow heavy, and against her will, slid shut. At the last moment, she jerked them open. No, she couldn't sleep, she would never sleep again, for every time she closed her eyes longer that a blink, the horrible scene would replay itself in her head, leaving her powerless to stop it.

But this time was different. As the her eyelids swept down over her irises, she felt safe. She felt...happier?

BEEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP...

North awoke from a deep sleep so suddenly he jerked to the left, fell right out of his chair and crashed to the floor. Grumbling slightly, her stumbled to his feet, already missing his first real sleep in over 10 weeks. Ever since... No, don't think about it. He chastised himself. It only hurt more.

It was then he realized it wasn't just any alarm...it was the nightmare alarm!

It was installed after the last battle with Pitch, made to detect the stuff of nightmare sand.

And that meant...

A child was in danger.

It was time to signal his friends.

Bunny looked up blearily, drowsily as the familiar lights danced across the night sky, then back down at the egg he had been painting with half a mind. He blanched. The pattern that he created, while beautiful, was horribly familiar. Bunny hastily (albeit gently) placed the egg on the ground before thumping into one of his tunnels and racing towards the pole before the tears came.

As the hole in ground re-filled itself, the little egg pattered over to the reflecting pool and felt pity for its artist as it observed the tiny snowflakes and intricate frost designs that curled around its now blue body.

Sandman dully flicked his wrist, sending rather limp dream sand spiraling down to a little girl in Burgess, Pennsylvania. It was a very similar dream to many requests he'd received over the past few months. It was not uncommon for wishes of snow days and snowball fights, especially with mid winter happening now. But with the unusual lack of snow...well, the guardians had yet to break the news to the young believers of Burgess. Sandy as just about to send a snow day dream to a young boy- named Jamie Bennett- when multi colored lights flashed across the sky. Sandy's shoulders slumped. He had work to do! Especially now, with his dreams remaining the only place where there was real fun to be held. But he had to go. Without much if his usual gusto, the wise immortal waved his hand, creating a shimmering hang glider. He set off to the North Pole.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/12234567890987654321

Four Months Earlier

A boomerang carved wickedly thru the night air, decimating dozens of nightmares with each arc.

Broad, yet razor sharp, the twin sabers slashed terror itself to harmless dust.

Fearlings vanished, replaced by glimmering, golden dreams or simply exploding on the spot when touched by the brilliant, luminous whips.

Magic untold converted the boogeyman's greatest creations into harmless residue with a simple flash of exotic light.

All in the city center.

But in the woods, by the lake, was where the true battle was occurring.

Jack panted as he wildly blocked another wave of terror with his staff. Chaos swirled around him, deadly columns of fear writhing thorough out the city. if he was human, torrents of sweat would be pouring down his body. He knew the guardians were fighting a battle in the city, unaware to his plight, he couldn't keep this up much longer.

Blood trickled down his temple and stained his white hair from where Pitch had gotten a lucky shot to the side of his head, his lungs burned from the exertion. They fought viciously, hand to hand, suspended high above the tree tops. From where they battled, it seemed as though they could sit on clouds and touch the crescent moon.

Then guardian of fun gave a shot, struggling to maintain his protective humor. "Is that all you got, old man?!" Confident in his jibe, he darted in close quarters, wielding his staff like a battering ram.

Shlock! Jack gasped, doubling over as the boogeyman's hand made a home in his stomach. This was all that was needed for the winter sprite's conduit of power to be ripped from his fingers.

Jack began the horrible, roller coaster fall to death, paralyzing fear blasting thru his veins like molten lava as his staff spiraled, arch over end, in some distant direction, too far to be reached...

...when long fingers wrapped around his neck, stopping his fall. He stared into the eyes of Pitch Black, willing himself not to show fear. The bogeyman chuckled deeply, his irises burning. "Good Bye, Jackson Overland Frost."

With that, Jack was flung brutally down, down, down, twisting until he faced the the tree tops that rushed up to meet him. Panic overrode all sense as the wind howled in his ears, screaming as it tried to lift its friend up, but to no avail. Overcome by absolute terror, Jack began to thrash wildly in the air, his mind a blur of sound and color-! ...

Just like that, it faded. The wail of the wind became distant and muted, as through a soft pillow was held over his ears. He felt his body relaxing against his will. His thrashing ceased, his fall became a steep soar. Jack was not in control, Jack was in danger, but as he revolved slowly as he fell, his torso curved with gravity, feet and fingers reaching for the starlit sky, he saw the moon. He felt safe. Nearly bent in half with the force of terminal velocity, he was blissfully painless. But he did see something. He saw the point of a bloody projectile, composed of nightmare sand, protruding from his stomach. That was when Jack Frost realized...

...I'm dying...

Welcome darkness began to shutter over his vision. As the last of the blissful black curled over his pupils, he marveled...

...I'm dead.

He swore he heard someone call his name.