Jamie looked worried; Jack knew the look from his mother's face a long time ago. The little boy stood outside his sister's bedroom, listening to her cry inside. The Guardian shrugged.
"I'm sorry Jamie, not even I can get in locked doors."
"Who can? She won't tell me what's wrong!" He lowered his voice, "What if it's nightmares?"
Jack frowned, "One way to find out."
"No need."
He had never guessed that the voice of fear would be silky and deep and articulate; not until he finally met the Boogeyman. "Pitch."
"Don't get too worried, Frost. I'm here because of him," The spirit detached from the shadows on the wall and pointed to Jamie, "And his fear of me specifically. The girl I had nothing to with."
"But if she's afraid-"
"Less fear than pain. That is beyond me in every way... but one."
Jack stood, "Then fix her."
"I don't remember you being so aggressive." Pitch looked bad; rough and worn and tired, but he wasn't intimidated, "Why should I do anything, Frost?" He spat the name, "I owe her nothing."
"You said you had one way. Prove it."
"I'm not a child. I don't rise to dares."
"Please. Do it."
He sighed, "You should learn something from this. Something maybe the Guardians have forgotten."
The Boogeyman passed through the door and the boys outside heard the latch click. They cracked it just enough that Sophie wouldn't notice. Pitch loomed over the bed -Jack cursed himself for not thinking that through- but instead of making things worse, he scooped up the little girl and held her.
"I-i-"
"Hush, little one. You should know by now I don't hurt you. There's no reason to cry."
Hearing the words didn't stop her though.
"Then will you tell me what's wrong?"
"I don't see!"
"Mmm. I understand."
To Jack, none of it made sense, least of all where this sudden surge of tenderness was coming from in a being who had once tried to plunge the world into darkness.
"There will always be things you don't understand and can't do, you know. That's what makes magic." He lifted her chin and Sophie wiped her eyes.
"Magic?"
"That's right."
She yawned, "Late."
"Go back to sleep, little one." He smoothed down the great yellow mop of hair and the girl fell asleep almost instantly. He put her in bed. When he crossed back into the hall he looked as stoic as stone.
"Where did that come from?"
"The deep past, Frost. My past." Then he was gone, with nothing but black dust behind him.
AN: An old thing in my stuff, gathering dust. I wanted to see Pitch interact with Sophie, so this was born.