Darkest Before Dawn

Cold and Dark

A/N: What happens when your friend develops a Pitch muse, and starts talking to your Jack muse?

Apparently, this, when you're me.

Merry Christmas, ROTG fandom!

-Quick note: In this, I mention that it has been 400 years since Jack was made a Guardian, not the 300 in the film. This idea is built around the headcanon of mine that, if the events of the movie had not happened when and how they happened, things could have gone very differently. So, the film never happened, and Jack has now been on his own for 400 years, becoming more and more desperate for some form of acknowledgement. This also means Jack hasn't yet regained his memories, nor is he particularly friendly with any of the Guardians, nor has he had any previous conflict with Pitch.-

~~::.::~~

"It's not! Stop it! It's not my fault!" Jack shouted.

Jack had been wandering around in the forest near his lake, kicking up the snow with his feet and frosting the occasional tree, when Pitch had shown up and promptly proceeded to taunt and goad Jack. He'd been brooding before; the snow he'd brought had been fun for a while, but eventually the kids had been brought inside, and now barely any of them wanted to play out, preferring to stay inside in the warm. As usual, there were a few kids who stayed out too long, got too cold, and got sick. It wasn't anything serious... but Pitch has still played on it, blaming it all on Jack and blowing it out of proportion... or... he thought he was just blowing it out of proportion...

"Ah Jack... I know... it hurts, doesn't it? To know you don't protect them... you hurt them." Pitch sighed, circling around Jack slowly. "Even I don't hurt them... not really... after all, what is a little fear?"

"I don't hurt them." Jack insisted, shaking his head. "I just help 'em have fun. You stop that. Your fear takes away their happiness and their faith... and that's what we protect."

"Oh of course you do, Jack." The self-proclaimed Nightmare King sneered. "That's why they run straight through you."

Jack flinched slightly as an extremely raw nerve was hit. Over 400 years... and still, not one child had ever seen him. No matter what he tried, no-one ever believed in him.

"That's... That's not important." He muttered half-heartedly, frowning down at his bare feet.

"But it's what you fear... that it will never stop."

Jack's eyes widened and shot up to look at Pitch in shock, but after just a moment the pain and the fear filtered into them, and he averted his gaze to the snow. Some part of him wanted to protest, to try and show some sort of strong front – but the words caught before he could even think them, and his throat tightened. Pitch smiled slightly to himself, before putting on an aura of sympathy.

"Poor Jack... why defend those who deny you even exist?" he asked.

"Because they need defending... even if they can't see me, I'll still do what I can to help." Jack stated firmly, seeming to regain some of his resolve.

"Why? To what end? You want to increase belief in the others? How does it help you?" Pitch continued to question him. "You're not a Guardian, Jack."

"I know that. And I don't wanna be a Guardian." Jack huffed. "But you don't need to be a Guardian to want to protect children. Maybe it doesn't benefit me, but I'm not doing it for me."

"You are a fool, Jack." Pitch stated simply, completing his circle and sweeping back in front of Jack.

"How so?" Jack demanded, looking sharply up at the other spirit.

"With me, you could be believed in."

For a split second, Jack faltered. Children would believe... in him? He could be seen? He'd tried everything he could think of in the centuries he'd been alive and that had never happened before. Pitch could see the thought run through Jack's mind, saw him just for a moment consider it, before he shook his head and frowned again. But he'd wavered, ever so slightly.

"Really? And what makes you think that?" Jack scoffed slightly, but Pitch was sure he'd still take in anything he gave. He smiled slightly.

"What goes better than cold and dark?" he asked, spreading his arms slightly to gesture to the forest around them – the darkness of night and the cold of the snow. "We would make ourselves known!"

"We would make ourselves feared." Jack corrected. Pitch paused and looked at him.

"Yes... what's your point?"

"What makes you think I want kids to fear me?" the winter spirit asked exasperatedly, seeming prepared to storm off, away from Pitch. "Maybe you're all for that kinda thing, but I'm not. I'm not so desperate that I'm gonna make kids scared of me, just so they can see me."

"Aren't you, Jack? From what I've seen, you are pretty desperate." Pitch said smoothly, his hands behind his back neatly, his mouth curving up at the edges as his words stopped Jack in his tracks.

"I- ...Not that desperate." Jack said over his shoulder.

"Really..." Pitch hummed, seeming to muse over the words for a moment, before shrugging and turning away. "Enjoy being ignored, Jack – on your own, it's not going to end anytime soon."

"I've survived a few hundred years just fine, I can survive a few more." Jack bit back.

"Can you survive forever though, Jack?"

"I won't need to." Determination, though slightly shaky, was clear in his voice.

"Oh? Why not?" Pitch turned around to look straight at Jack, his golden eyes carefully emotionless.

"Something's gotta happen... eventually..." Jack trailed off before he shook himself, asking himself rhetorically "Why else would I be here?"

Pitch grinned. The kid was just too easy. Such a long time being alone had worn down on him so much. And here, he had the crack in the ice; just a bit more encouragement, and Jack would plunge through it.

"Jack... you think there is always a reason?" he asked mockingly. "Then ask yourself... why am I here? Hmm?"

He watched in delight as Jack struggled to think of a reason for his existence. The boy opened his mouth a few times, as if to protest, and his brows furrowed more and more as the silence between them grew.

"You don't have an answer to that, do you?"

Jack was looking off to the side now, searching the snow as if looking for answers, but none presented themselves. His face fell slowly. Pitch moved closer to him, but he didn't move away.

"There is no reason..." he murmured, and watched Jack's shoulders slump.

"But... how else...?" Jack seemed to be talking to himself at this point, as if he'd forgotten Pitch was still there.

"How else what?" The Nightmare King's voice was low and smooth, with a tone like mocking concern.

"How else... will I ever get anyone to see me? I always thought there must be... some reason no-one ever saw me, but there must also be a reason I'm here, so... so I'd just have to wait it out and...eventually..." The winter spirit whispered quietly. Pitch could practically see as his whole way of thinking collapsed, how the 400-year-old coping mechanism crumbled into dust and everything Jack had convinced himself of over the years – that there was a reason for his existence, that somehow it was certain he'd one day be seen, one day be believed in – was thrown into doubt. Because after all, if Jack had a reason for his existence, then Pitch must too, and the idea of fear and darkness having a reason didn't seem to sit with the boy. No reason meant no certainty – no certainty meant the possibility of a whole eternity completely alone.

"You'd be given the choice to try a new method." Pitch replaced Jack's words with his own, pushing gently at Jack's shoulder to make the boy look up at him. "Work with me Jack - you don't have to be ignored."

"...And why should I trust you? What do you get out of helping me?" Jack's gaze was still distrustful, but Pitch knew he was listening. He'd broken Jack down, and now seemed to hold the answer to Jack's biggest wish, the ability to stop his greatest fear coming true. Pitch smiled.

"Assistance. I could do this alone, Jack, but there is no need." He stated simply. Pitch knew that Jack could potentially be very powerful – a spirit of winter, with the control of the wind and the snow and the ice at his fingertips, and so young and fuelled by emotions, all combining into a source of unrestrained power. To have Jack on his side would aid him greatly – a neutral party could be turned, and if turned against him, Pitch was sure he'd be a force to be reckoned with. Luckily for him, Jack was all for the taking – the Guardians had no interest in him, and he was so desperate for acknowledgement he'd do anything for it. Even go against what he had been so sure he was meant to do; protect the children of the world.

"So I help you... and you'll help me be seen...?" Jack affirmed, his ice blue eyes searching Pitch's face. His stance was slowly relaxing, opening up. There was conflict in his eyes, but slowly the ache of loneliness was outweighing the thoughts of doing what's right.

"That's right." Pitch smiled. "Nobody would ignore Jack Frost ever again."

"...How can I help?" the white-haired boy sighed quietly. Straight through the ice and into the murky waters below, where darkness was thick and nothing else could be seen – just as Pitch had planned.

Jack had fallen.

~~::.::~~

A/N: Did I mention I love dramatic irony? Because I love dramatic irony. Can you tell?

With Pitch and Jack being my favourite characters, I have an intense love for dark/corrupted!Jack. I really do think he could have gone the other way if Pitch got there first.

Anyway, so me and my friend were talking, and she has a Pitch muse, I have a Jack muse, this RP happened, and then story ideas happened, and if Inspiration allows, I am hoping to make this a proper, multichapter story, though I can't guarantee it'll be long. So far I have 5 out of 10 chapters written, and all ten roughly planned out.

Here's hoping you guys like this, even though it's not exactly my best stuff. Do review to let me know if you'd like for me to continue!

Merry Christmas, and ciao~!