Chapter II: Best Served Cold
Pitch remembered much of Phoebe's infancy. He remembered having to do all the mundane things a parent had to; like change diapers and stay up late at night trying to get a fussy baby to go to sleep. To be quite honest, it had taken almost a year for him to get over his aversion to looking after a child, but little by little she grew on him.
And from that time on, his love for Phoebe grew each day. By the time she was about to turn five, the two were nearly inseparable, so much so that Pitch had long forgotten his promise to give her up when she turned fifteen.
But he was about to receive a grim reminder.
Jack hadn't expected it. Hell, none of the Guardians had. It had been thirty years since he had last seen Pitch. Thirty years since he had last cared that he existed at all. And yet as Frost watched from the shadows of an old tree as a young girl ran about in a field running after small, black butterflies that the Nightmare King conjured up with his sand, he knew it was him. All he could really think to ask was how. How had this thing have escaped so quickly? How could he already be back? And, even more importantly, who was the child with him?
Jack squinted at the scene, scrutinizing the child's face. He remembered seeing a similar face somewhere, but he couldn't quite bring a name to mind. Certainly the messy, unkempt hair was familiar, even if he remembered it being brown rather than blonde, and so were those big, round eyes; but he didn't remember them as being green, no, the color he remembered was different. He thought about it for a moment, but the realization didn't hit until she turned around, her entire face finally towards him.
Brown. The face he thought of had brown eyes, Jamie's eyes. She looked like Jamie. His heart stopped for a moment and he moved behind the tree, covering his mouth so the pair in the field wouldn't hear him shout. A few tears sprang to his eyes as a plethora of awful memories flooded his mind. At First the fire, walking through the ruins of the house, then sneaking into the morgue to cry over the bodies, only to arrive at the funeral and cry again.
Then, the worst of it all, finding out that not only had Jamie had another child but that she had disappeared, her body either missing or destroyed.
"Unless she was still alive," Jack thought, sneaking another peek at the meadow.
There was no doubt in Jack's mind that the child playing in the field was Jamie's missing daughter. Which lead him to figure that Pitch was responsible for the fire, and that made him angry. So angry, in fact, he wasn't even sure if it would a bad idea to just swoop in and fly off with her, if only to get her away from that... that abomination.
"What am I doing? Think, Frost, think! He'll fight back and then it'll turn into an all out battle and there's no reason to put an innocent kid at risk. Especially Jamie's kid. He'd come back from the grave just to kill you," Jack groaned and took a couple deep breaths, relaxing a bit.
"Phoebe! Don't go too near the forest, darling. You never know what could be in there." The sound of Pitch's voice immediately made Jack tense again, his body almost quaking with anger.
"But Papa, there's something over here! It looks like ice." Shocked at how close her voice was and even more so by what she said, Jack looked down and sure as day, there was a small patch of ice growing around him.
"Phoebe, get away from there."
"Papa, I think there's someone ov–"
"Now, Phoebe! You could get hurt!" The worried, parental tone that his voice took on made Jack sick to his stomach and he had the strong urge to walk out from behind the tree and give Pitch something to worry about.
Eventually giving in to impulse, Jack pushed away from the tree and moved out to the edge of of the field, clenching his jaw in anger. Phoebe stood about eight feet away from him, looking up at him confusedly, whereas Pitch stared on in a mix of shock, terror, and rage.
"Phoebe, get over here now, and stay behind me." Seeing the anger in Jack's face, the child obediently ran back to her father, and peeked out from behind his legs timidly, clutching part of his robe to her face. He gave a light smile and reached down to comfortingly press a hand to the top of her head. As he looked back at Jack, his paternal demeanor faded, replaced with an almost apathetic malice that seemed to bleed out into the air around him.
"Jack," he said, his voice low and threatening, "What are you doing here?"
"What the hell?" He asked, ignoring Pitch's question, "Was Jamie being dead just not enough for you, you sick son of a b–"
"Hold your tongue around my daughter, Frost."
"Your daughter? She's not your daughter. She was Jamie's, until you roasted him alive! So, did you keep her as a pet or a trophy you... you fu–"
"I said hold your tongue, Jack. I don't want my little Phoebe picking up on that sort of thing."
"She's not your daughter! If anything she should be with Sophie! You know, the girl you made miserable by killing her brother!" Phoebe flinched, tugging a little at her father's robe.
"Papa, I'm scared. What is he talking about?" Pitch looked down at the child, smiling and picking her up.
"It's nothing, darling," he said, glancing back over to Jack, "Just the raving of a lunatic." He threw Jack a sly smirk and turned his attention back to his daughter, giving her a kiss on the forehead. And this only made Jack that much more vengeful.
Forgetting Phoebe in his anger, he raised his staff and took aim at Pitch, preparing to blast his smug, stupid face full of ice. Pitch, taking notice of Jack's actions turned slightly, setting Phoebe down on the ground behind him.
"Go home, sweetie. I'll be there soon."
"But, Papa–"
"Don't argue. Go home and hide in your room. Don't come out until I come back." Seizing the opportunity, Jack fired a blast, which hit his opponent square in the chest. Pitch reeled back in shock, falling onto the grass and quickly throwing up a wall in front of him and Phoebe as Jack fired again.
"Come on, Pitch. Fight back! You never had a problem before! At least take the chance to go out fighting! Then you'll go back where you belong and she can go on living her life away from scum like you!" Pitch clenched his jaw at that, pulling his daughter close and slowly standing against the wall.
"Phoebe, you need to get out of here," he whispered, all too aware of the sound of grass rustling as Jack began walking closer, "Now, you remember the hollow tree you like to hide in? I need you to go there and don't come out until I come to get you. Okay?" She nodded, the sound of Jack's footsteps frightening her a little.
"But Papa, what about you? What if the ice man hurts you?"
"Don't worry about me, darling. Just go to the tree and don't come back, no matter what you do."
"What if I get scared?" Frowning, Pitch set her down and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.
"Just think of home, sweetheart, just think of home. Now hurry, before the ice man gets here." Giving her a little push, Pitch brought down the wall and sent all the sand directly at Jack, creating just enough time for her to run off into the forest in fear. She had hardly made it to the tree when she saw a blue light, silhouetting her against the nearby creek. Frightened, she turned nervously to see a girl, a blue, glowing girl who floated a foot or so above the ground. The air around them seemed to turn cold and became heavy with the smell of flowers and smoke.
"Hello child. Do not be afraid. I will not harm you. And you need not worry for your father, he will be alright." Phoebe stared at the girl, both mesmerized and terrified.
"Wh-who–"
"Go back to your father now, Phoebe. By the time you get there, Jack Frost will be gone and will be able to see your him again." And with that she vanished, almost as if someone had turned out a light.
Confused, Phoebe rushed back towards the field and arrived just as Jack was carrying himself away on the winds. Pitch stood in the middle, sneering as he watched Frost fly off. As soon as she was sure Jack was gone, Phoebe ran over to her father, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.
"Ph-Phoebe what are you doing here? I thought I sent you to the tree."
"Some lady was there. She told me to come back here."
"She? What are you," he gave the child a puzzled look, then thought better of questioning it, and held out his hand to her, "Come on now, dear. We have to get home quickly. Ice man is no doubt going to be back soon with help." She nodded and took his hand as he quickly pulled her back to his lair.
Once they made it there, safe for the time being, Pitch put Phoebe to bed, tucking her in and giving her a kiss goodnight. Then, he made his way back to the entrance of his lair, standing there and waiting for the Guardians to show up. He figured they'd be arriving any moment now, at least a couple of them. Maybe more.
As he waited, he heard a familiar sound. It was a shrill, little laugh. One he had heard a few years ago, when he first escaped. He tensed, slowly turning and jumping back in surprise when he he came face to face with Pendulum.
"Wh-what are you doing here," he asked, taking a couple steps back and frowning, almost concealing the fact that she had scared him. She didn't answer and instead glared at him, the air around them heavy with a feeling of rage and terror. Pitch, noticing this, backed away and just barely managed to avoid falling into the entrance to his lair.
"Pitch."
"Yes?"
"What were you thinking?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why did you bring her outside?"
"Because she needed some fresh air. I didn't think anything was going to happen, alright? And I had checked the area—"
"I do not care! You should not have taken her outside in the first place! Fresh air, bah! She is not a plant, Pitch! She should need no more fresh air than what can be provided by simply climbing out of the lair for five minutes! Now, thanks to your carelessness, the Guardians will know about this!" She growled and angrily pulled at her hair, mumbling curses at him under her breath. Then, suddenly, she calmed. Her fingers disentangled themselves from her her hair, and her hands came down and delicately folded in front of her; her face relaxed and her expression going peaceful.
Pitch, afraid of what this meant, shrank away slightly, his eyebrows knitting together out of fear.
"Perhaps," Pendulum said, with a slight chuckle, "It might be better if I take Phoebe now. After all, you have already proved yourself incapable of keeping her hidden away from the Guardians. Perhaps it will all be for the better if I cut your time with her short and take her away tonight."
"What? No! No. That wasn't the deal! It was fifteen years, Pendulum!"
"Why, Pitch, it almost sounds like you care for her. Grown so attached so quickly, have you?"
"Maybe I have. But she's not my concern at the moment. My concern lies with the fact that you promised me an eternity of freedom if I raised her for fifteen years, not five!" It was a lie, even as he spoke it, he knew it wasn't the truth. And judging by the sly smile that formed on her face, he figured she was well aware of that. With another laugh, she slowly began drifting away from him.
"Alright, Pitch. You can keep her for now, but I will return for her in ten years. That is, if no further problems should arise." And with that she was gone. Vanished like morning fog.
And Pitch was left to wonder if he'd really be able to give Phoebe up come the end of the decade.
And even then, he could only hope that nothing else would go wrong.
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