As much as I like writing horror/angst, I know that's not everyone's cup of tea, so I'm posting this unrelated group of one-shots, because I like writing humor and making people laugh too. Or making ridiculously sweet fluffy stories, like this particular chapter. I'm going to endeavor to keep things IC as much as is humanly possible.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Rise of the Guardians movie or any related material.

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Summary: Pitch steps out of his comfort zone when he finds himself in an odd predicament

Genre: Humor (the situation, mainly) and Hurt/Comfort (with a little melancholy)

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Pitch Black was out of this lair, prowling around a neighborhood. He was in a rather vindictive mood that night, and was therefore itching to instill some fear in a few children. Though the sting of defeat was still unpleasant in the way that it reminded him of his drop in power, the Nightmare King was feeling good that night. Things were slowly starting to change. Over the past few months, he had been causing little pockets of fear here and there, though not so much that it would attract the Guardians' attention. These small amounts of fear had given Pitch enough power that he had been able to get the Nightmares back under his control.

With that newly regained power, Pitch was finally going to be able to cause some effective nightmares, and he knew the perfect place to start that night. A little revenge on Jack Frost, as it were. Pitch was going to give Jamie a terrifying nightmare, and then make himself scarce. Who knew how close an eye Jack kept on Jamie. After all, the boy was the first child to believe in Jack and see him. Revenge was sweet, but the Nightmare King wasn't about to confront Jack directly. Pitch needed more time to regain his strength and have more power to draw on if he ever wanted to be able to face any of the Guardians again on equal footing.

Mind made up, Pitch stepped through a shadow, and emerged into Jamie's bedroom, a dark smile hovering about his lips in anticipation of causing fear. Only…there was no one there. The boy wasn't in bed. Pitch glanced at the clock. 12:45 AM. The Nightmare King scowled in disappointment. Foiled again. Perhaps Jamie was out of town or something inconvenient like that.

Of course nothing was going to go his way. Why had he expected anything to be different? Pitch was about to leave the house to search the town for the wayward boy, when he heard a thumping sound from another room. Pitch hesitated, before melding into the shadows and entering the room where the sound had originated from. Pitch kept to the darkness of the room as he took the scene in silently.

Jamie's sister, Sophie, had apparently fallen out of bed, as she was on the ground and crying. Pitch's thought of trying to frighten her in Jamie's place vanished as soon as her teary eyes rose to meet his. Pitch stiffened when Sophie stood up and hurried over in his direction. He was fully expecting her to run through him to go seek comfort from her mother, and he braced himself for being run through. It was a peculiar sensation that he absolutely loathed. Instead of passing through Pitch, however, Sophie bumped into one of his legs and clung to it tightly.

Pitch stilled further, first in shock that she could see him, and second, for feeling the tears steadily soaking through the fabric. Pitch forced himself to relax. There was nothing for him to fear from this girl's tears. Pitch's lips quirked in twisted amusement at the very thought that tears would have any effect on him, physical or otherwise.

Pitch glanced around the room suspiciously, like he was fully expecting the Guardians to come swooping in to the rescue and accuse him of frightening the girl and making her cry. Ordinarily, the tears wouldn't have bothered him, but as he hadn't been the one to cause the tears, Pitch didn't want to take credit for something he hadn't even done.

After a few moments of silence, Pitch looked down at the blond haired girl, and spoke in a low, soothing tone, "Little girls should be asleep and dreaming." Oh, it nearly made him cringe, trying to be sympathetic to a child. It was nauseatingly sweet, and Pitch dreaded what he had seemingly gotten himself in to.

Sophie twitched a little at being addressed, but the smooth voice caused her to lift her tear stained face to look up shyly at Pitch. She was slightly intimidated by the tall man, but upon hearing his words, Sophie shook her head wordlessly and buried her face against the Nightmare King's leg again.

Pitch withheld a sigh, and stared up at the ceiling, trying to be patient. Finally, he lowered himself to Sophie's level, with slight difficulty due to her clinging.

Sophie, noticing the movement, peeked up at Pitch again with watery green eyes locking onto golden ones.

The sight stirred some emotions within Pitch that he hadn't bothered with in countless years. Compassion. Empathy. Pitch very nearly sneered at the idea of those emotions. It was very unpleasant, and Pitch didn't like it one bit. He wanted to be gone from this unfortunate situation, as quickly as possible. But how, without taking the girl with him and upsetting her further?

Pitch formed a small Nightmare on the palm of his hand with black sand. He hoped it would distract Sophie so that he could free his leg and escape. Children liked animals, didn't they?

The small, orange eyed Nightmare had the opposite effect Pitch had been expecting. A small sob escaped Sophie as a small surge of fear ran through her, and Sophie turned her face against Pitch's leg to avoid the sight. A small horse made of sand that had formed out of nowhere had scared her.

Well…that hadn't worked liked he had thought it would. Pitch dismissed his next thought of trying to shake her off his leg. He didn't want to cause any physical harm to a child. It was distasteful and beneath him to do such a thing. Scaring children psychologically drew forth much more satisfying fear. Sophie's soft, continued crying was beginning to concern him, and Pitch didn't want to be feeling that either. The gray skinned man let the Nightmare prance out the window into the night. Time to try something else. It was outside his comfort zone, and with a little trepidation, Pitch reached out a hand toward Sophie.

Light as a feather, Pitch awkwardly patted Sophie on the head in a poor attempt to reassure her. That he wasn't going to frighten her, at least not tonight. Oh, the Guardians would have loved to see this. Pitch wouldn't be able to show his face for years if they caught him trying to comfort a sobbing child. When the crying had tapered off a bit from the sensation of the gentle pats to the child's head, Pitch realized that Sophie was looking up at him again. Pitch tried to give her an encouraging smile, but it ended up a grimace, like it was physically taxing to try and be nice. So, he spoke softly instead, "You don't want your mother to catch you out of bed, do you?" Pitch shifted uncomfortably under the steady green gaze. As a last ditch attempt to get her to let go of him already, Pitch formed a few butterflies out of the black sand with a light wave of his hand.

Sophie instantly let go of Pitch's leg as she turned toward the butterflies, a happy laugh escaping her lips as she reached for them, "Pretty!"

When Sophie had turned, Pitch quickly rose, scooping the girl up as he did. Pitch plopped her back down on her bed, acting as if his hands would have burned if he had held her any longer.

Sophie's attention had been drawn from the butterflies to Pitch. She might have started to cry again at the realization that a strange man had been in her bedroom, and that she had been clinging to one of his legs in an attempt to seek comfort. The reason she had woken up was that she was still upset that Jamie was off at summer camp, and that it made her lonely. Falling out of bed had been unintentional. Sophie glanced up at Pitch, and broke into a smile at the sight of a larger sand butterfly fluttering around his head.

Pitch didn't like how Sophie was smiling at him now. Like he wasn't a scary, creepy person for being in her bedroom. He was the Nightmare King. The Boogeyman. Children were supposed to be afraid of him and be intimidated by his presence. Not…not…beaming at him like he was a wonderful person for making such unfrightening butterflies! Frustrated with himself and unable to stand the smiling he was receiving from Sophie, Pitch waved a hand and summoned up more sand butterflies. Pitch made his leave through a shadow when Sophie's attention was drawn to the butterflies once more.

The sand butterflies vanished soon after, but Sophie had cheered up marginally, and was feeling sleepy again. Jamie would be back soon, and they could play together again. Yawning, Sophie snuggled back down in bed beneath the sheets, clinging to a stuffed animal. Her eyes scanned the shadows of her room for any sign of Pitch. Seeing nothing, she spoke two words, "Bye, bye." Maybe Pitch would stop by again tomorrow night and make more of those butterflies.

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Had Sophie looked out her bedroom window, she would have seen a tall, dark figure on the top of a nearby house.

Pitch stood impassively as he watched Sophie drift off, an indecipherable expression on his face, before he finally turned away. He wasn't in the mood anymore to scare anyone that night. The Nightmare King glanced up at the black sand butterfly fluttering about his head, and one of his hands drifted down to slip into a pocket, gripping the cool metal of a locket loosely. A flash of longing and anguish crossed Pitch's face, before it settled into a mask of resignation. His hand withdrew from the pocket to drop at his side.

Pitch turned and headed for the shadow of a chimney, thoughts passing through his mind of times long ago. He needed to leave, now, before any more unwanted emotions welled within him. Pitch reappeared in his lair after slipping through the shadow. The feelings still lingered, and the Nightmare King slumped against a nearby pillar, in an attempt to clear his mind.

Pitch's gaze rose to just a few inches above his head, to where the sand butterfly was still fluttering about. The anguished look crossed his face once more, and he reached one long fingered hand to brush it away, along with the memories it had brought forth. Pitch's hand stopped short of the fluttering insect, and he let his hand fall back down limply.

The black sand butterfly continued to circle overhead, and Pitch couldn't find it in himself to send it away.

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So a bit of the movie (Sophie) and the book series (locket) were inspiration for this chapter. I like the idea that Pitch had been a father. There's something adorable about it, in a way, and therefore entertaining to put him in this predicament.

I decided to post the fluffy chapter first, even if it isn't entirely humorous, because I really like it. I know I've read some stories with these characters in it, but hopefully this is different enough. The next chapter is going to be way more humorous (read: ridiculous). I'm not sure how often this will get updated, as it is more of a whim when ideas strike, but the next chapter will be up today.