The first time it happened, he'd hoped it would be the last...
Pitch wandered the shadowed mock-halls of his cave - it was almost womblike with its jagged walls leading to a vaulted roof. It's dark and eerie atmosphere, and the cages in which he'd stowed the tooth fairies now hung silently in the shadows with the black, metal doors swinging lightly with the breeze. The dim rays of light which managed to permeate the ground above cast long shadows on the rocks and it refracted off from the fearlings which roamed the caves.
They were under Pitch's command once more and they circled the shadows around him, occasionally they would keep him company and follow him about as he paced and paced in his constant state of boredom. Onyx; his favourite Nightmare horse whinnied and trotted about the cave, and each sound echoed off the rock, making the place seem very, very loud, and yet it gave a feeling of isolation which Pitch was all too familiar with.
He could also hear a quiet yet irritating noise which didn't originate from anything within his cave. It was a quiet tapping noise and it was beginning to get on Pitch's nerves. For some reason the noise from above his lair was becoming an annoyance and he could truly tolerate it no longer. He dissipated into the dark and appeared in the shadows of a tall tree just beside the small hole in the ground which lead down into the cave.
"Frost," he ground out with disdain.
"Pitch," Jack replied in a cheerful tone.
"What are you doing here? Have you made it your personal goal to destroy my sanity?" Pitch demanded as he remained in shadow, as far away from the dim, evening light as possible.
"No," the young Guardian replied.
"Have you suddenly decided to reconsider my offer?"
"Nope."
"Have you come to inform me of the sudden and tragic demise of the Guardians?"
"Nu-uh," Jack shook his head.
"Then I suggest you leave; I'm not in the mood for your games," he dismissed and turned to retreat back into his cave.
"If you leave I'm just gonna keep doing this," Jack said with a smile and he started knocking the end of his staff against the trunk of the giant tree in which he sat. It produced the same frustrating sounds which had so irked Pitch before, but now of course it was louder and therefore even more irksome.
Every instinct he had was screaming at him to simply attack the child and be done with it, but he wanted to brood not fight; Pitch wanted to mope in the shadows, not waste energy fighting a ridiculous child. What was Jack doing here anyway? Shouldn't the child be off freezing the winter ruled continents or laughing with the guardians about how they defeated him?
"Do what you want," Pitch sighed and merged fully into the shadows and back into his lair. He sank deep into the caves and into the most open space in which stood his globe. The hundreds of thousands of millions of lights shining brightly in the dark seemed to mock him as he skimmed across the ground silently.
He growled into the darkness and then, in the blink of an eye, he flung out his right arm and shot a sphere of black sand out to his globe, causing it to fall from its position and clatter to the floor. It rolled along the floor and was tossed aside by the rocks for several seconds, making loud crashes and clangings which rebounded off the cave walls, utterly destroying the silence he'd so sought. But the noises suddenly came to a stop and Pitch scanned the shadows to see why.
"You are in a bad mood, aren't you?" Jack Frost asked him with a chuckle. He'd stopped the globe from rolling further and moved it to rest against a gathering of stalagmites.
Pitch said nothing as one of his fearling horses came to stand at his side and it hissed quietly at the child in anger. He brought up his hand to brush its muzzle and it snorted and whinnied, turning its golden gaze from Jack to its master.
"You're not welcome here, Guardian," Pitch hissed, "I suggest you leave."
"Hey, you said I could do what I want," Jack replied and he held up his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Well, I rescind that in favour of you leaving."
"Too late for that," the young Guardian smiled as he began looking around at the cave. "You really should consider redecorating...caves went out of fashion at least 2 centuries ago..."
"GET OUT!" Pitch yelled at the same time as he suddenly blasted Jack with nightmare sand.
"Whoa!" Jack frowned as he flew nimbly about the cave, jumping off stalagmites and stalactites and freezing some of the dark sand that followed him with his staff. If he was honest; he'd been expecting this and so had the other Guardians but Jack wanted to prove them wrong. He knew that everything had a place in the world - even fear. You just had to look for it, and Jack believed he now understood why the Man in the Moon would've allowed a personification of fear to continue to walk the earth.
Pitch growled in frustration as more of his attacks were frozen into black sculptures which fell and shattered on the ground. The area of the cave was very large and open and so it gave the child a lot more room to avoid his attacks. He ordered his fearlings to strike and three of them instantly charged hungrily at the Guardian, without having to be told twice; there would've been more of them if only he wasn't so weak now. He knew he was no match for the Guardians, and if this fight was anything to go by, he wasn't much of a challenge for a child either. It only made him more miserable and more irritated.
"Okay...look...I just wanna talk..." Jack said and Pitch glared.
"You. Want. To. Talk. To. Me," Pitch spoke slowly and quietly, his upper lip recoiling in horror at every word. The fearlings stopped their attack and floated and stood in the same shock that had affected Pitch.
"Uh-huh," Jack nodded still holding his hands up.
"Well I don't want to talk to you!" he bellowed, and the sound eerily bounced off around the cave several times. He attacked again and again and again and the nightmares moved as well.
"But I..." Jack began, but he was cut short by Pitch's next attack.
The Nightmare King had merged completely with the shadows and he literally flooded the area with nightmare sand which crackled in anticipation. Jack raised his staff and froze whatever came near him but he was thrown around a lot in the process. The sand tore at his clothes like small knives and it picked him up and threw him at the walls like a rag doll.
"Get out," Pitch repeated, but with a scarily calm voice which made Jack shiver.
"I...I know what it's like, y'know...s'not nice...being all alone..."
"Oh, please, spare me. I don't need your ridiculous pity, Frost," Pitch sneered with deep loathing in his velvet cadence.
"It's not pity."
"No, it's an annoyance that refuses to leave!" Pitch growled as he stepped out from the shadows.
"Funny," Jack raised an eyebrow and pointed his staff harmlessly at Pitch, "But I thought...maybe...you could use some...help..." He spoke tentatively.
"Help...from YOU?!"
"Yeah," Jack nodded and Pitch chuckled.
"You really are as naïve as you look, aren't you?"
"Hey!"
"You've had your fun; you've seen that I'm no threat to you and your precious Guardians. Now leave me," Pitch frowned.
"But I've been doing some thinking, and I think I I know what you're..." Jack tried to say, but he sighed when Pitch started to melt back into the shadows and away from him. The young Guardian shook his head and flew from the cave with a heavy heart, leaving Pitch alone once more in the shadows.
He was now surrounded by sculptures of ice and black sand, eerily beautiful - but still a reminder of how weak he was.
"Argh!" he growled as he attacked each and every one of them in rapid succession until all that remained was small charred crystals which he ordered the fearlings to remove from his sight at once.
The second time was somehow even more irritating than the first...
It had taken him a while to finally leave the safety of his caves again, but Pitch was wandering the forest which was cast entirely in the darkness of a winter's midnight, alone. He'd been meandering for hours now, his silhouette cast in the moonlight and he glided silently across fallen tree branches and leaves which bore evidence of white frost.
But, sound a minute ago, something had started calling out to him and he was no longer aimlessly walking. It had been something which only he could sense; fear, pure fear, and it was so close to him. He had to follow the trail, he had to find its source. He flew faster and faster until, after what felt like an age, he found it. It was people, two people. He heard their voices, quiet voices; a man and a crying child. Pitch could practically taste their fear. The man's fear was fear for his child's safety - a loving and caring father. The child was terrified of monsters hiding in the dark coming to eat her and her father and in a way she was right to, for the dark was where Pitch lurked.
They'd gone for a little nature hike because the child had wanted to find fireflies, but taking a wrong turn they'd become lost and the child had become scared. Pitch could learn all of this from a single glance at them. He could hear them speaking
"I'm scared," the young child said through her tears.
"It's okay to be afraid, Lilly," the father told his child, "Fear makes us stronger."
"I...I don't feel very strong, dad," she cried.
"That's alright," the man smiled, "It's only because you don't realise it yet."
"W...what'd you mean?"
"If we didn't get scared we'd never learn anything, kiddo," he answered, "You remember when you were learning to ride your bike and you were scared of falling off?"
"Uh-huh," she nodded.
"Well, didn't that make you want to try harder so you wouldn't fall off? If we didn't get scared we wouldn't know how brave we are."
"I guess," she sniffed and wiped her tears and her father took her hand.
"Come on, let go home," he smiled through his own fears and began walking again.
Pitch watched as a trail of snowflakes curiously began to fall and started to guide the man, who now frowned in confusion at the phenomenon.
"Dad...it's Jack Frost...he's helping us," the child smiled, no longer crying as she ran after the snow.
"Lilly! Wait! Come back!" the man shouted, bundling after his child, and they were now both gone from Pitch's sight.
He'd frowned throughout the whole exchange, even with the taste of fear so close by, he'd been too confused by what the father had told his child. It was of course, utter nonsense, an adult spewing nonsensical ideas in an attempt to comfort a child, so it was foolish to be so confused by it. Pitch frowned as he suddenly noticed, for the first time, that the two people had been bathed in moonlight. It was why the man hadn't needed a light...because 'someone' had provided it for him.
But surely it was merely his 'old friend' mocking him after his last defeat. He knew how much Pitch hated to lose, to be beaten and defeated, so like everyone else, he was revelling in it. Yes, yes that was all.
"Hey," Jack greeted him. The child was reclining against a tree trunk on the ground with his staff clutched in his hand and one leg wrapped around it, "I don't know why so many people keep wandering the woods at night recently; it's a good thing I spend so much time here," he said.
"Hmm," Pitch scoffed and turned away once more.
"I erm...I don't suppose you heard any of what they were saying...did you?" Jack asked loudly, "'Cos it's what I wanted to..." he began, but once more, Pitch shot a string if nightmare sand at him and he was forced to jump from the tree.
Jack sighed as he saw the look of pure anger and hate on Pitch's face; maybe the other Guardians had been right, maybe this plan was doomed from the start. No, no he couldn't believe that. No one, not even the Nightmare King deserved to be abandoned.
"Don't talk to me," Pitch scowled, his eyes seemed to make Jack's hair stand on end the way they stood out amidst the pale moonlight and the black sky.
"Quit it with the whole 'brooding thing' for one minute, would you? I..."
"I said..." Pitch spoke, "Don't talk to me," he finished and turned around to leave again.
"What's your problem?! I'm only trying to help!" Jack screamed at Pitch and then sighed to himself, "...Maybe they were right," he muttered and flew away without another word.
Pitch continued his meanderings once again and he returned to the isolation of his caves before the sun began to rise.
The third time found Pitch in the Antarctic...
The isolation of the place was was drew him near. The cruel weather with its bitter cold air and snowfall made it the perfect place to brood in peace. Many a time Pitch had come here to think and sometimes to glare at the moon as well. He'd come mainly to get away from the forest of Burgess for a while.
Because it was daylight and it was mid winter there was snow blanketing the ground and children saw no fear in a sunlight forest, they played and laughed their way closer and closer to his caves. The sounds of children having fun was a constant irritation; a constant reminder of just how badly he'd lost. His long years spent planning his revenge had all come to naught, and inadvertently he'd driven the only other person who knew what true isolation felt like, to the Guardians. How bitterly ironic. Perhaps the Man in the Moon laughed at irony.
Without meaning to, Pitch was stood before the ice and nightmare sculpture that he and Jack had created in their fight. It hadn't even begun to wither even a tiny bit, it was still as beautiful and strange as he remembered. But it was an abomination; it represented failure, his failure.
He drew back a step and with a cry and anger, launched a huge gathering of nightmare sand at it and the sculpture was engulfed in it. The sand tore at the ice and ripped it apart little by little, making satisfying 'cracking' sounds of it slowly giving way. Pitch watched as chunks of ice fell from the sculpture and eventually the nightmare sand that was trapped inside was freed again as it exploded from its prison, throwing the remains of the ice high in all directions.
"I never really liked that thing, anyway," he heard a familiar voice say from behind him and before the nightmare sand had even disappeared, Pitch hurled it in the direction of the sound.
"What do you want this time, Frost?" he demanded in a long suffering tone.a
"Hey, I'm only here for the penguins, I didn't know you'd be here, honest," Jack replied. "But you kind of stick out, I mean I could hardly miss you from a mile away...especially when you do stuff like...that..." he gestured to where the ice remains of the sculpture lay.
Pitch only rolled his eyes and sighed as he listened to Jack's explanation, and part of him wondered why the child would be here for 'penguins' in the first place, but he wasn't about to ask. That would give the impression that he cared. The novelty of Jack and the Guardians victory over him would wear of eventually and then the boy would leave him alone for good.
Jack flew about the chunks of ice which had been scattered across the snow, and he could see traces of what looked like black marks, almost like tire tracks on its surface. It looked very strange. He wanted desperately to talk to Pitch about his idea, but the last two times hadn't exactly gone as he'd hoped. Perhaps he'd been going about it in the wrong way, perhaps the direct approach wasn't going to work.
"So...erm...how you been?" Jack asked nervously with a smile.
"...Excuse me?" Pitch scoffed he glared at the Guardian in confusion and wondered what he was trying to do now.
"I said; how've you..."
"I heard you," he snapped and turned away into the weak shadows. They weren't dark enough for him to teleport in but they would do, "Is this a new way for children to gloat?"
"What? No, I'm not gloating about anything!" Jack protested and Pitch scoffed again in disbelief. "I'm not, I swear!"
"Then you're checking to see if I remain weak so's not to threaten the Guardians again," Pitch said, "Well, here, I'll save you the trouble; I HAVE NO POWER!" he yelled, "Now leave, I'm tired of your games."
"I'm not playing any games! I'm only trying to tell you that I..." Jack began but Pitch threw a weakened attack of nightmare sand at him again and he was forced to fly out of the way.
Jack couldn't help but feel sorry for Pitch, even after everything he'd done, or perhaps because of it. They'd both wanted the same things; to be believed in, and to not be alone, but Pitch had gone about it in all the wrong ways. Their similarities made it difficult for Jack to ignore him. He understood the fear of being alone, of being run through by people who couldn't see you, and it wasn't nice. Bunny knew what they felt like a little now, but it couldn't compare to centuries of isolation.
Fear and fun. They were polar opposites, but they were also quite similar if you looked closely. Both were central in the life of children; they needed fun to simply be children and they needed to learn fear to become adults. Through fear you learned about consequences and it kept you from the naughty list, but through fun you learned to live.
"Haven't you ever thought about why people need fear?" Jack asked Pitch as the nightmare sand lingered around him. "I mean, really thought about it? What would a world without fear really be like?" he asked. "Bunny said it'd be better off, but I don't think so...surely you know, right? If you answer the question I'll leave you alone and I'll never bother you again, cross my heart," Jack said and held up his hands.
"A world without fear?" Pitch repeated with a roll of his eyes. "Don't you understand? You can't be rid of fear; it's inbred into every living thing like breathing! It's a defence mechanism. Everything is afraid of something all the time; every minute of every second of every day, every living, breathing thing in the world is ruled by fear! There cannot be a 'world without fear' because people want to live!"
Jack sighed in disappointment; that really wasn't what he had in mind, but what could else he expect from the boogeyman, really? He supposed he'd just have to try another approach.
"Right...yeah...thanks..." Jack muttered, " Bye, then," he sighed and flew away. Once he was far enough away he took out a snow globe from his hoodie and threw it in front of him, whispering the words 'North's Workshop' before doing so. He really needed to rethink his approach to this plan if he wanted it to work and he couldn't do that if he got preoccupied by playing with penguins.
Pitch growled as he saw Jack fly through the portal and disappear. He knew he was right; the boy had simply been reporting how much power Pitch had regained, if any. But fortunately, the Nightmare King never got his hopes high.
The forth time, Pitch was determined to drive Jack away once and for all...
The Nightmare King kept his fearlings in a constant state of alertness as they prowled the length of the dark, lonely caves. They waited for the first sign of unwanted movement before they pounced. And, one night, as the snow finally stopped falling, Pitch felt a cold wind blow through his caves.
Jack Frost had come to play for the last time.
Pitch grinned into the shadows as he melted into the blackness and chuckled deeply, and the sound echoed before fading away into the abyss. His fearlings whinnied in anticipation as they stalked the source of the breeze almost playfully in their glee. They followed Jack as he made his way through the entrance to the caves and as he descended deeper and deeper into Pitch's lair.
Jack could feel that something was wrong and he suddenly noticed the dozens of yellow eyed following his every movement. It was very creepy.
"Erm...Pitch...what's going on?" Jack asked and Pitch could feel the waves of fear coming from the boy in palpable waves. "Pitch?" He repeated and looked around him in pure fear.
The thought that Pitch's power was greatly depleted and this wan likely to hurt him as much, Jack didn't think about that; he was too ruled by terror. Terror of the fearlings and the gathering nightmare sand around him.
"I won't tell you again; GET OUT!" Pitch yelled from the shadows, and unleashed whatever powers be had left.
Jack screamed as he felt the attack hit him and slam him back into the far, jagged wall if the cave. He was consumed by a black tornado of sand which pulled him around and he dropped his staff in the confusion. He searched for it frantically but he couldn't find it.
"Argh," Jack breathed as he landed on the ground with a 'thud'. The nightmare sand had simply dropped him in the middle of the space, right at Pitch's feet. When he looked up he could see the base of his staff on the ground. Pitch had his staff.
"Well that was easier than I expected," Pitch glared at him.
"I didn't come to fight, I..."
"Well I've been prepared for one since Antarctica," he replied. "Little liar!" Pitch added as he lifted Jack from the ground by the front of his blue hoodie.
"Liar? What'd..." Jack began, confused. "I never lied...what'd you mean?"
"You've done nothing but lie! You 'want to talk to me'; wrong! You want to see just how weak I am! You want to know just how much of a threat I am! Well, how's this for a threat?!" Pitch asked in anger as he threw Jack against a stalagmite. Four fearlings then came to stand either side of Pitch as he held Jack's staff loosely in his right hand.
"Ah,, Jack groaned as he lifted his head, "No, that's not right! I..."
"At least if you're reconnoitring, admit it now," Pitch said.
"I'm not, I..."
"Liar!" Pitch growled and raised Jack's staff to order one fearling forwards. It reared its head and then ran straight at Jack and exploded in a choking mist of black sand which tore at his clothes and skin.
"No...I..."
"Tell me the truth!" Pitch yelled.
"I am! I wanted to help..."
"I don't need help!" cried the Nightmare King as he urged another fearling forwards, it repeated the same attack as the last. Jack tried to shield himself with his arms and hands but it was useless.
Pitch ordered the last two horses forwards and Jack was left lying in the dirt gasping for air and with nightmare sand covering his clothes. It was very pathetic, it was as though he wasn't even trying...or...Pitch was not as weak as he'd thought...it was possible however unlikely.
"Now, leave," Pitch sighed as he tossed the staff down at Jack. He could do much worse, like break the boy' staff, but then how would the child leave his cave?
"...But I...okay, I'm sorry, I just really thought...y'know what...never mind...it doesn't matter..." Jack winced as he gripped his staff and finally he flew away again. If the Guardians found out about this one, he would be in very serious trouble; he'd failed again and he hadn't even tried to put up a fight as Pitch trounced him. What had he been thinking?!
The fifth time, Pitch found himself in no state to attack...
It all started in India, strangely enough. He'd been wandering the shadows of a long abandoned village in India, it had been built hundreds of years ago and it had been abandoned due to a drought many years ago. It inhabitants had all died. Even a after so many centuries, Pitch could feel the lingering fear of the people who'd died here.
In a way it was a comfort to him; because he had no believers again he had very little power, but places like these have him a touch of fear to savour. A 'pick-me-up' for the boogeyman. The crumbling walls were almost held up by the fear of the dead and as his pale fingertips ran across the worn designs he could feel a small, almost microscopic measure of strength return to him. It was pitiful; the all powerful Nightmare King was reduced to this. It was almost laughable.
But Pitch didn't feel much like laughing.
As he moved on, deeper into the ruins he flew over fallen rubble and stared into the faces of old stone gods long since discarded.
It was monsoon season, and the power that brought the rains to the continent every year was someone with whom Pitch had a long standing rivalry with. She called herself Sūna - taken from the Hindi words for 'monsoon season', and she was as changeable as Pitch himself, though perhaps she want really half as cruel.
Unfortunately she ran into him in the ruins and she'd found his defeat very amusing. She cared little for the Guardians but she thought it fitting that they'd beaten him...again. And then they'd fought.
Pitch though that considering how depleted his powers were, that he put up a good fight, he threw his share of attacks around and he defended very well. But perhaps he'd gotten ahead of himself because unfortunately she was at the height of her powers and he was not, so he lost. And when he found that he was unable to get up, she saw this and left, but not before making it rain heavily down on him first.
Alone, injured and wet, Pitch was really not in the mood to laugh at all now. After a minute to regain his breath he slink back into the shadows and traveled back to his caves but unfortunately he only got as far as the forest surrounding it. He dragged himself to sit against a tree and he sighed as the moon once more shone down on him.
His robe was torn and his skin bore signs of bruising which he frowned at as he saw each one emerge in the rays of light. He felt absolutely disgusted with himself for letting this happen. Pitch sighed deeply as he leaned the back of his head against the tree and closed his eyes. He listened to the sounds of the wind and the branches being blown around and the sounds of the nocturnal animals living in the wilderness.
Soon he began to feel a light dusting of snow begin to fall and he growled instinctively; on top of everything else, snow was all he needed right now. He hated the snow now. Since he'd seen children having fun in the snow even with the King of Nightmares himself present, it had become something else to despise; it was an object of fun. Fear and fun simply didn't exactly mix.
He opened his eyes as a stronger, colder gust of wind blew past him and then he cursed his bad luck. Pitch saw the young Guardian flying happily through the forest, he hummed lightly to himself and twirled his staff in his fingers. But he stopped dead when he saw Pitch sitting there not 10 feet away from him.
"Pitch?" Jack asked in disbelief, "What..." he frowned as he flew across to the Nightmare King.
"Begone, child, leave me be," he sighed tiredly.
"Who'd you pick a fight with? A swimming pool?" the young Guardian asked with a weak smile but Pitch said nothing. "Okay...sorry..." Jack muttered quietly.
"Just have your laugh and leave," Pitch sighed again and leaned his head back once more. He was just too damn tired to attack. Unlike Jack had over three centuries, Pitch couldn't retain much power at all without believers, but because fear never could truly disappear, neither could he...But he could be weak.
"You think I'm gonna laugh at you?" Jack asked as he slowly flew closer and closer to eventually sit less than three metered away from him. "I'm not," the child added quickly. "I don't like seeing people hurt."
"I'm not 'people'," Pitch replied.
"And I don't like seeing people all alone, either," he said, ignoring that Pitch had spoken. "What happened?" Jack asked, but he didn't really expect to get an answer. "Was it a murdering swimming pool with a vendetta?"
"Of course not!" Pitch growled and then winced as a particularly bad wound in his side pulled against his skin as he moved. The water from Sūra's rain had long since permeated his robe and his skin was soaked to the bone which wasn't really helping his wounds.
Jack was very curious as to how Pitch had gotten so wet since he made sure that every lake, stream and river which flowed in or around the town was frozen over with thick layers of ice, but he knew he'd never know. Pitch would never tell him, just as he'd never tell where or how he'd been so injured.
The young Guardian didn't know whether the cold bothered Pitch but he figures that it was probably uncomfortable to be so drenched in these temperates so he raised his hand, freezing each tiny water droplet and turning them each into snowflakes. Then he pulled them away from Pitch's skin and they shot off him in elegant movements, falling harmlessly to the ground. He hoped that by showing Pitch that he was trying to help, that he wouldn't be attacked or ignored. Hey, stranger things had happened, right?
"I erm...I can't really do much for erm...your..." Jack stuttered as he gestured to Pitch's wounds with his free hand, "Since you probably won't want me too...erm...yeah, but at least you're not wet anymore, right?"
Pitch said nothing because he was very confused; he didn't know whether to be angry or grateful which was one feeling he'd not used in a long, long, long time. He didn't...couldn't...understand why Jack Frost of all people was acting like this rather than refusing to even look in his direction. After all, he had tried to destroy the Guardians and Jack with them. That wasn't someone one would forgive or forget easily
"Look, believe what you want, okay? But I really am just trying to be nice. When's the last time you talked to someone with trying to scare 'em to death or something?" Jack asked after a minute, "I'm gonna guess...a really long time, huh?"
The Nightmare King turned his head to one side against the tree and stared at a patch of grass in the distance as Jack continued, "I wanted to talk to you before about something, okay? Since you're not gonna talk to me I'll just talk to you...I think I know why the world needs fear, okay? Don't laugh or whatever...I don't know what you think about all that but I can tell you what I believe...remember that little girl from before when she and her dad got lost? You heard what he said and I think he was right..."
"Huh," Pitch snorted quietly.
"I do, and I think that why you're still here."
"I am still here, and I always will be because fear cannot be destroyed; it can be weakened, but not destroyed," Pitch corrected Jack with a condensing tone. "Like 'fun'," he sneered, "It doesn't require any direct believers but it's always there. In that regard we are the same."
"No, I don't think that's true. People need fun to relax and live like a kid for a while, and people need fear to be brave and to think about consequences," Jack replied with confidence, "You never though of it that way? It's what I've been trying to talk to you about, but you never gave me a chance."
"Hmm," Pitch scoffed.
"Yeah, that's what they said," Jack snorted, "But I think the Man in the Moon agrees with me."
"What gives you that idea?"
"Oh, nothing, just a feeling, I guess," Jack shrugged as he looked at the moonlight which bathed them both in gentle white rays. He smiled knowingly at Pitch who only glared in response.
A.N. I've never written for Rise of the Guardians before, but Pitch is the best character ever! I've always felt sorry for the poor guy, and I think, even he has a place in the world. I don't think there's enough stories that deal with a friendly sort of relationship between Jack and Pitch, so I finally decided to write one myself. It's been done a few times before I think, but I honestly really like it, so sue me :)