Mend
Stability
The sound was atrocious! North could not resist reaching up to cup his ears. Oh how he felt pity at Pitch's cries, what was causing him such pain? The way Pitch cringed every time he had moved, and how he looked like he had only a thread of control over his body brought sadness to his heart. He'd only hoped to help stabilize Pitch, when he'd touched the other spirit, give him some sort of comfort knowing that he was no longer going to be harmed. But instead of acceptance he'd only caused fear, no wonder many had warned them so vehemently. If just contact had caused such an outburst, how would they ever have any hope of tending to his wounds?
Though he shouldn't have been so surprised, the chaos, he had expected. The scathing remarks, false bravado, and hostility too he had foreseen. But the terror still worried him, and the frantic, instinctual need to escape too caused him fear, surely there was no need for such hysterics. The whirl that Pitch had left behind was vicious, as if the shadows were a distraction for their master as he fled. A triad of nightmares formed of the shadows, they acted as a barrier, blocking off the void that the spirit had escaped through. They warred with anyone that got close and seemed unfazed by each time they were destroyed. They looked steadfast, until they began to shrivel and dim, as if they could no longer be sustained, but by that time Pitch would already have gotten far. When they were gone, the usual tells were not there, where was the sand, where were the whinnies and the chaos?
"Blimey, the sod couldn't even stand and yet he had the strength to tear open a path, and set up shadows to prevent us from following," Aster grumbled, but despite his bellyaching, he was just as concerned as the others. What if they couldn't find him, what would they do then, it wasn't like they could simply wait and look forever- he worried too much. They would find him eventually, but at what cost?
Perhaps going as an entire group was part of the reason for his terror, North wondered. And in hindsight, Pitch's departure made sense. To wake vulnerable and surrounded by enemies was a trying ordeal indeed. Nevertheless, it would have been foolish to approach the spirit alone, as he'd nearly tried to fight Jack, and only the knowledge that he, Sandy, Tooth and Aster were there had likely stayed Pitch's attack. They had not adequately thought of how to transport Pitch, as they'd assumed he'd be dead at worst, unresponsive at best. The more North thought about, the more he realized that the plan was very weak, even if they had managed to capture him, what then? They had no idea how to keep a fear spirit sustained. On top of that, there were no barriers in place to prevent Pitch from opening a path and leaving even if they did catch him and managed to keep him alive.
North sighed, he was hopeful that Pitch would return, but he doubted that greatly. Even if he returned, there were so many parts of the lair that were collapsed or inaccessible that Pitch could hide from them in-
"Let us go- Pitch will likely not return here."
The rest of the Guardians looked more than happy to leave, they never seemed quite right whenever Pitch was brought into to the mix. They lingered ahead, not quite eager to go, or hopeful to stay. North dwelled behind, looking at what was once an exotic room, it pained him to see it so decrepit. Jack cried out suddenly, startled by something just outside the cave.
"Jack?" North sped over to the mouth of the cave. Jack and Tooth were speaking frantically in a series of hushed whispers. Tooth hefted something from the ground. It was opaque, lanky, and seemed limp. A dark hand grasped Tooth's shoulder, a weak struggle, but a struggle no less. North looked down over Tooth's shoulder, and frowned at the Nightmare King that she struggled to hold. He did not seem to recognize that he was in his enemies' arms, his eyes were listless and never settled for long.
"Don't- please, I want to sleep." The spirit leaned his head against Tooth's chest. Delirium in his eyes and words.
"He was just laying outside of the cave, must have run out of energy to go farther away." Jack muttered.
"Leave me be-"Pitch groaned lowly as Tooth bumped his side when she moved to situate him more comfortably, "Oh hush, you'll be able to sleep once we return to the workshop."
That seemed to quiet Pitch and he settled, albeit reluctantly. His skin paled a bit, and he closed his eyes.
"This is not good, how do you sustain a nightmare?"
The confusion was collective and North began to worry. Pitch breathed in deeply, a deep rumble left his chest.
North understood then, but he dare not hope.
"Let's take him back; we can tend to him at the workshop." North removed a snow globe from his coat. With the workshop as his destination, he threw the globe upon the ground. He and the others traveled through. They had no place to set Pitch down, but North eventually found a room, somewhere between his office and Jack's guest room. With all of Tooth's distressing, Pitch had nearly returned to his usually soft grey, but it still looked sickly, despite the fear he'd been getting. Pitch seemed unhappy to be removed from Tooth but only struggled minimally when he was jostled too much.
Tooth shooed the others out and eventually started to tend to Pitch's wounds. She hesitated after removing his clothes to deal with what was underneath. Tooth stopped her work, and peered out the doorway and into the hall. North had just finished imbuing magic to the walls, with luck it would prevent Pitch from trying to escape. The others had left, well except Jack he was just getting ready to make for his room. Tooth called for him, "Jack, before you go, could you help me?"
"Sure Tooth," the spirit of fun followed her in, but the somber atmosphere quickly sucked away his excitement. Pitch looked so out of place with the heavy bandages over his body, and his clothing half on.
"I would really appreciate it if you took over from here, I- uh don't want to spy, if you know what I mean."
Jack looked equally uncomfortable, but he nodded. There was no reason not to help. Tooth smiled, gave Jack the rest of her supplies, said her goodbyes and left Jack to his work. Jack sighed loudly when she left, and dumped the supplies onto the table beside the bed. He set to work, hoping to get back to his place as quickly as possible. Pitch groaned as Jack peeled off the rest of his crusty clothes. Jack frowned at the lacerations he saw; it looked like claws had raked through his thighs, looked as if something had nipped at his heels, or bit his skin. It upset his stomach as he cleaned Pitch's wounds, the way he yelped when antiseptic hit him, and how his wounds seemed impossible to clean. He avoided Pitch's smalls; he couldn't bring himself to degrade the Nightmare King any more than he already had.
He looked so out of place as Jack left, swaddled up to the neck in blankets with sheep on them, but it was far better than how they'd found him.
Jack was hopeful; at least Pitch didn't look like he was going to fade away again.
Edited 6-27-2016
