Disclaimer: I own not of the Rise of the Guardians movie or associated books.

Bits from the books and the movie have been melded to create this blasphemy. :)

"So…" Jack hung upside down, eyeing Pitch questioningly as the shadow man perused yet another volume of his near endless library beneath the surface. "When do we rub our hands together and cackle evilly?"

Pitch threw him a look, somewhere between amusement and admonishment, "I assume you are itching to make a more definite plan?"

Dropping lightly to the stony ground, Jack leaned bodily on the taller man's shoulder and waved one hand mockingly, his voice full of false enthusiasm, "No, I just love doing nothing but watch you read dialects I can't possibly understand."

"I shan't deny you," Pitch continued reading with a smirk, waiting for the winter sprite to snap. He lasted longer than Pitch expected. The elder spirit actually finished the sentence he was on.

"Pitch, come on…" When Pitch's only response was to widen the smirk to an almost good-natured grin at Jack's impatience, a sudden, unnatural flurry of wind tore the book from his hands and sent it skittering, page over cover, down the aisle of towering bookshelves. One raised hairless brow met sideways mischievous grin.

"That was important," Pitch started calmly, his teeth slowly peeking out in forewarning from behind parting lips.

"So am I," Jack returned, perching on his staff in a way that clearly defied gravity to master him, "In fact I- Whoa!" Whatever Jack may have been saying was lost as a Nightmare reared out of the omnipresent gloom of the subterranean labyrinth Pitch called home and whinnied fiercely in his face. Although Jack had slid halfway down his staff in surprise, he could still clearly see Pitch's teeth shining playfully in the darkness. Well, playful like an orca with a baby seal. There was still a hint of anticipation in the Nightmare King's tense shoulders. How Jack responded to the bit of revenge Pitch had gotten would clearly set the tone for how they continued their partnership.

Well, Jack thought, rolling his shoulders with a stifled laugh, if that's the way he wants to play it. With a burst of wind, Jack twirled up his staff and threw a harmless snowball in the surprised Nightmare's face, sailing over it to his real goal. The number of teeth Pitch had on display grew momentarily, and just before Jack was sure he'd nail him with the icy blast he'd gathered, like a Cheshire cat, Pitch was gone. Frost skittered harmlessly across the floor.

"Have you ever wondered," Pitch purred, his voice coming from all directions as Jack turned and turned again to try and catch sight of the shadow, "if there was a way to catch a shadow?" Lame line, Pitch, Jack rolled his eyes.

For a long moment, there was silence but for the Nightmare's antsy whinnies and snuffling breath. But then, Jack's face transformed with a grin as he worked out a solution, diving down the aisle before Pitch could work out what he was doing- what he was heading for. Shadows leapt at him and the Nightmare jumped into action as Pitch realized, too late, what was going on. With a somersaulting grab, he clutched his prize protectively to his chest just as Pitch's own hand reached out of the long-cast shadows of the shelves. Although he did crash, rather uncomfortably, into the only stone wall visible this side of the library, the heady triumph masked any potential pain from his collision as he rose, holding the book over his head in a cocky gesture, "It might be possible with this."

The Nightmare rolled its eyes back warily, not approaching and the fleeting thought passed that the book Jack was holding had more than sentimental value to the Boogeyman, but Pitch materialized just as the idea reached a fragile point of crystallization and the slow clapping broke it. "Good show, Jack," Pitch's voice, once more issuing from one point alone, swept the rest of the fragments away and Pitch smiled, the annoyance at being bested, or perhaps at having his game cut short, only showing in the renewed tension gathered at the edges of his steady, golden eyes. His voice lowered dangerously, "I concede."

"Oh, don't do that," Jack's arm lowered without his intent behind it, the fun of the game diminishing at Pitch's attitude toward defeat. "Don't be a sore loser; it was just fun, come on. You know, 'ha, ha, you got me?'" When the Boogeyman seemed as uncomprehending as before, Jack moved forward decisively, holding out the ancient tome- until Jack held it in his hands, he hadn't realized how old and worn the real leather bindings were- and looking meaningfully from Pitch to the book with serious blue eyes. "Take it." The shadows receded from where Jack was standing as Pitch's tense posture melted into something like trepidation. Jack moved another step forward and pushed the book into Pitch's chest, ignoring the way his fingers lingered on the book a little after the elder man's arms folded instinctively around it. It was with a foreign twinge of regret that he lost contact with the tome, but he shook his head and refocused on the here-and-now. "We're partners, now, Pitch. Remember? Family?"

"I haven't been part of a family for a long time."

The words surprised them both.

"I never have," Jack replied quickly, sweeping away the beginnings of an awkward silence. Pitch must have spent all his time down here with his books after the Guardians had defeated him. Reading and biding his time, without seeing actual people interacting, it was no wonder he acted so oddly to Jack. A whim passed the sprite and he grabbed it, grinning, "We could go do some field research."

A shadow passed over the two of them, bigger than the Nightmares, bigger than five Nightmares, and Pitch's face relaxed, strength welling up from some unknown influence as Jack kept his gaze fixed to Pitch's. Whatever relaxed a Nightmare King was not something he wanted to see right now, and he was waiting on an answer. "Whatever could you have in mind?"

-x-

"This is the absolute epitome of boring, Jack," Pitch complained monotonously, lounging sideways on a thin, bare tree branch outside the Bartlett family's kitchen window. "I understand you have some fascination with this town's inhabitants for reasons unknown to the rest of the world but-"

"Shh," Jack hushed him, sternly but without looking from the window, "This is the best part."

Jamie, a brown-haired kid just up to Jack's waist when the sprite deigned to touch the ground, had gotten up from the table, more than ready to go upstairs and sleep. Hopefully, with sweeter dreams than he'd been getting lately. It was somehow scary, how the myths he'd seen and the things his parents had always told him were real had disappeared. But… Maybe, tonight, they would visit him again and tell him the truth…

His spirits brightened further as his mother approached, and then dropped softly to her knees to meet his identical chocolate brown eyes with her own. She smoothed his hair, wordlessly and smiling, and pecked him once on the forehead, murmuring, "I love you tonight and I'll love you tomorrow. Good night, sweetie." Jamie beamed and repeated the saying, his sister chiming in half a repetition before the desire to climb up one of the dining chairs distracted her.

"Idyllic," Pitch annunciated precisely, but his attempt at nonchalance sounded more the opposite and he glanced down when Jack smiled backwards at him. "Are we to give each other doting nicknames, then?"

That hadn't been the point and Pitch knew it, so Jack leaned further backwards and whispered with an evil glee, "Sweetie pie."

Pitch shuddered, "No."

"Snookums."

"Doubly no."

"Dear heart."

"I've got one?"

"…Honey bunch."

Pitch looked at him incredulously, "That's used to describe a person?" Jack shrugged and turned back to the window, where Jamie had distracted his mother with some story or another he simply had to tell her before he slept, neither noticing how Sophie, the younger sister, had rounded the table by stepping from chair to chair, until she reached the one nearest the stove.

The pot was still hot, Jack felt, as she reached for it, and his eyes widened, pulse quickening as he tried to think of some way to stop her. Just as he'd reached for his staff to freeze the damn thing solid, something dark and insubstantial hopped through the window, landing on the messy blonde's tiny shoulder. It was as if the shifting shadows that followed Pitch had been compressed, forcibly contained in the vague resemblance of a frog, with the same glowing golden eyes that Pitch and his Nightmares shared. As soon as it touched the girl, she gasped, fingers recoiling before they could grasp hot metal and she jumped down from the chair and ran to her mother. With no little awe, Jack turned back just in time to see Pitch pull back his outstretched hand. The Nightmare King had, at some point, stood up on his branch in alarm, and now he towered indecisively over Jack, still looking through the window.

"What was that?" Jack threw a pointing finger towards the window in case Pitch missed his meaning.

"A Fearling." Pitch finally looked down at Jack, who was still staring incredulously, and elaborated, "A part of me."

"That was- that was-" Jack held his fingers to his temples, leaning back in the air as he tried to take it all in and produce the correct words for the situation. When he did, his arms exploded outwards and he leaned in toward Pitch, "Awesome!" Ignoring the way his fellow spirit twitched at the invasion of his personal bubble, Jack grabbed both of his shoulders, "You totally just saved that girl! Why didn't you tell me you could do stuff like that?" Jack's excitement lit his blue eyes up like ice hit by the sun, and he did not release his hold on Pitch's upper arms.

Pitch allowed the contact. Not because it reminded him of a time when someone was proud of him. Nor because it was somehow reawakening the storm of old emotions he'd thought he'd gained a hold on the last time he used them to lure Jack to his side. No, Pitch allowed the hold only because he needed to keep Jack happy so he wouldn't run off and rally the Guardians. Any hope those weirdos had was another percentage point on the wrong side of the equation for Pitch's continued comfort. "I didn't really save her, Jack."

"Totally did. But, Pitch…" Here Jack lost his gusto and let his arms fall to his side, careful not to hit Pitch accidentally with his staff, "I always thought fear couldn't… Um…"

"Couldn't do anything worthwhile?" Pitch guessed darkly, stepping around to the bottom of the tiny branch with no regard for gravity whatsoever.

"No," Jack protested, and then, continued in chagrin, "I didn't think it could help someone."

"Fear is essential, Jack," the Boogeyman began, and even though Jack was slightly interested now, the didactic, lecturing pace of his starting sentence gave Jack fear in a way Pitch neither intended nor noticed, "It teaches you what is dangerous and how to face the monsters of the real world. Bad dreams are like…" Pitch waved his hand in a vague sideways gesture, beginning to walk up the side of the tree as he explained, "A test run. A way to experience fear and bad situations without any true danger to the child. I teach them caution," Pitch paused and pinned Jack with the sudden intensity of the golden stare directed at him, "To survive." Honestly, Jack hadn't really thought about that side of fear, but he supposed it existed for a reason. Well, actually, Jack didn't really spend a lot of time deep in thought about anything at all. There was always somewhere that needed a little frost and usually the faster he moved, the closer he came to leaving his own troubles behind him.

A moment passed before Pitch looked away again, now into the second floor window of Jamie's room and his tone changed to a heavy sort of pleasant surprise, "Oh, look. You've stumbled us onto one of the last few believers."

Glad to escape a lecture, but perversely more intrigued at Pitch's purpose now he'd been interrupted in explaining it, Jack spun around midair to see what he was on about now. The little brown-haired boy was sitting on his bed, growing increasingly upset as he said something to his stuffed rabbit. Moving in closer, Jack finally picked up on the end of it.

"Any sign, just so I know…" Jamie hesitated, and then pulled his rabbit closer to his face pleadingly, seriously, "So I know you're all real."

"Precious," the word was a breath and Jack jumped at its proximity, seeing Pitch had silently come to his side, hanging by his shadow from the side of the house. The elder spirit's yellow eyes were bright as Dream Sand, watching through the window, though his smile could only be described as dark, "Another light snuffed." Even as the urge to flee rose like a sudden wind in Jack's chest, fighting the warmer feelings that had been planted, a restraining hand fell heavy on his shoulder, and Pitch's gaze turned knowingly to him, "Why don't you give him something else to believe in, Jack?" For a second, Jack's unease whirled, pressing against his ribs as he deciphered Pitch's meaning.

His heart stopped. "You mean- me?" Jack's tone crackled like breaking ice in his surprise, but he didn't care, "But-"

"Jack," Pitch's tone was admonishing, teasing, and when he saw Jack had returned his full attention to Pitch, the Nightmare King tapped the window with a shark's grin. "At such special times as these…" Jack leaned forward involuntarily, the smooth cadence of the words pulling him in, and the light of Pitch's eyes danced against his skin, "A person will believe in just about anything."

As if in a trance, Jack turned back to the window. He blinked, and came back to himself, placing his entire palm against the glass. As the thick layer of frost spread, the glass popped and groaned in complaint and Jamie turned in surprise. Taking care, even while in shock at his own daring, to reverse his writing, Jack dragged his finger through the ice.

"I. Am." Jamie read, moving from the bed. His eyes widened and the rabbit slipped from his slack fingers as he continued in a whisper, "Jack. Frost." And with a sharp clarity no one had ever had, his startled brown eyes focused on the winter sprite floating outside his window, and his hand rose to point as his volume took a similar jump upwards, "Jack Frost!"

"It… Worked? Pitch!" Jack's delight spilled out as he glanced from Pitch back to Jamie, "He can- You can see me!" Jack trilled, exultant, a laughing flip punctuating his remark before he flew back up to the window, "You can really see me!"

"Yeah," Jamie nodded, opening the window further with new glee, "I knew you all existed. I knew it!"

You all, Pitch repeated warily in his thoughts, golden eyes locking like a targeting system on the brown haired boy, Maybe I let Jack approach him a bit too soon.

"Do you- do you remember that sled ride the other day? Down the streets?" Jack was asking excitedly, and when Jamie gave another exuberant nod, he continued proudly, "That was me!"

"And snow days, are those you, too?" Jamie exclaimed, hopping up and down with excitement. At Jack's affirmative, he grinned, "Cool!"

Honestly, they may be on the same maturity level. Pitch found himself smirking and scowled once to himself to clear the expression. Some thunder from his internal storm clouds helped when Jack and Jamie laughed at some inane snow pun. Part of his plan was to keep Jack happy and either on his side or out of the battle, but something about seeing him so happy with some little brat rubbed him the wrong way. A cool hand grabbed his wrist though and he was yanked from his thoughts to the window.

"This is Pitch," Jack grinned, watching as Jamie's eyes suddenly gained the ability to focus on the Boogeyman, "And he's responsible for scary movies and ghost stories." Jamie gaped as Pitch merely rolled his eyes, not removing his wrist from Jack's grasp.

The young boy backed a bit away from the window, "J-Jack. That's the Boogeyman."

"Yes, and I eat children," Pitch snarked, bearing his oddly shaped teeth apathetically.

A fleeting scowl like a flurry of snow and Jack shook his head, "Don't be scared. Pitch doesn't eat kids, actually he saves-" The two spirits whipped around as a loud crash cut off Jack's heartwarming defense of the Nightmare King. It would have been so cute and dripping with sappiness that a tiny Christmas tree would have been born from the speech and Pitch would have had to stomp it out with a wide range of expletives the likes of which had not been heard for thousands of years. But that didn't happen- because Santa's sleigh had essentially crash-landed in Jamie's backyard.

"Where's the Easter Bunny?" Jamie wondered aloud, nearly hanging out the window until Pitch instinctively pushed him back to safety with a blind shove, not taking his narrowing eyes off the sleigh. Toothiana and North were the only visible spirits on board, but it appeared they had back up in the form of…

"Kids? What are they thinking, bringing kids?" Jack frowned, his jaw clenching, "The sleigh looks like it's falling apart!"

Pitch finally tore his gaze from the paint-peeled, lopsided remnants of the famous sleigh and fixed Jack with a pointed look, "Desperation makes many a monster out of men."

"Are you sure last of believers is here, Tooth?" North boomed, not having noticed the two enemy spirits hovering by their target's window.

"Yes," she responded, flittering her now-flightless wings in a feebly anxious twitch, "We have to get to him before Pitch does."

"An' how," Came a disgruntled Aussie voice from one of the children's laps, where the vestiges of the Easter Bunny remained until North snatched him up and replaced him on his shoulder.

"He's kind of cute, now," Jack whispered to Pitch, before turning back to the window and holding out his arms, "Come'ere, Jamie. We gotta get you out of here."

Afore-mentioned boy looked up from his search for the Easter Bunny, startled and wide-eyed, "Why?"

"Santa's gone mad?" Pitch offered sarcastically, the icy death glare Jack threw in his direction bouncing off uselessly to the snow below. With a sigh, he continued more seriously, trying to convince the child Jack had apparently decided to kidnap, "We're not on good terms right now. Those fools are endangering children and we're trying to keep them from gathering up any more."

Jamie's surprise grew to almost tangible proportions, "Really?"

"Basically," Jack grinned feebly, gesturing again with his arms, "But it's like a game of keep away, you know? We gotta get going!"

Jamie looked down at the Guardians, clambering across the snow, then up to Pitch, and across to Jack. The snow sprite faltered at the suddenly grave look on Jamie's face. "My grandma died last month," he stated, slowly, and when Jack seemed confused, he continued, "She slipped on the ice, and she couldn't get up, and the cold…" Jack's heart stopped again. It wasn't as if this hadn't happened before; Jack always knew it would happen, even, but… Pitch winced at Jack's crumpled expression, as if the statement had been a physical blow. Ice wasn't always Jack's fault, but he hung around Burgess so often that the ice there almost vibrated with his essence. "No one found her until she…" Jamie squeezed his eyes shut for a second and then continued, "Jack, you're friends with the Boogeyman, and… The Guardians never hurt anybody. I'm not so sure you're the good guys." At this point, the two full-sized Guardians and Bunnymund had noticed Pitch's black figure, their alarmed exclamations rising through the air to Jamie's window as they sprinted forward.

Pitch snarled and a Nightmare leapt from the shadows beneath Jamie's bed, scooping up the boy, "Be that as it may, the Guardians must not have any more help than they already do."

Jack finally broke from his daze and grabbed Pitch's arm, "What are you-"

"Just putting him-"

"STOP, PITCH!" North bellowed, breaking into the room. It appeared the few followers he had kept allowed him to retain his strength, at least, even if his workshop creations were still shutting down. "I won't let you harm another child!"

Toothiana sprinted past him and pulled Jamie into her arms, dispelling the Nightmare and turning to glare out the window, "That's right-" Her glare faltered, and her wings gave a nervous almost-flutter, "Jack?"

Bunnymund rose up on his hind legs, gripping North's beard to keep his balance on the giant's shoulder even as his ears went back, "Awful buddy-buddy with Pitch, ain'tcha, Frost?"

Jack was, in fact, fully aware of the one hand still gripping the Nightmare King's arm, but his body didn't seem able to move. It was as if his mind had been cut off from the rest of him, throwing him out of his own body to view the scene from a horrifying distance. He'd thought he was ready to face his old… Allies. But face-to-face was an entirely different experience than he'd expected, the disappointment and betrayal that had dimmed in his memory was fresh and angered on his former companions' faces.

"Jack," Pitch hissed out of the side of his harsh mouth, eyes never moving from the Guardians, "Breathe." With that, the spell was broken and Jack could move, and did, with a deep intake of breath. Jamie's eyes were as wide as Tooth's, and the boy's drawings were scattered across the floor from the brief scuffle betwixt Tooth and the Nightmare.

"Jack…" North's voice was soft at its center, vulnerably caring there but edged with the bitter tang of betrayal, as he took an involuntary step forward. "How could you?"

"I…" There was a pause as the Guardians waited for whatever explanation Jack might offer, "I can't say sorry," Jack croaked across the widening gap of dead air between him and the Guardians, "I can't regret being seen or gaining a family." North winced at the word. He'd seen how Jack had longed for belonging, and had hoped to provide him a place in their dysfunctional little family of Guardians. Maybe he hadn't quite gotten that sentiment across. No, North thought, looking at Jack's distraught expression, littered with lines of guilt and anger, I did not. Jack turned back to Pitch here, with a pleading expression, "But I don't know if I can fight them either."

For a moment, anger pierced through Pitch's chest, but the way Jack still had a hand clamped on his arm sent a mysterious cooling calm through his bones and he exhaled the fury in one condensed breath. At this point, merely keeping out of the fight would be enough. "As long as you don't help them, Jack," He demanded, a cruel smirk edging onto his darkening face as he sensed his trump card approaching, "No matter what happens next."

A rushing sound, like a thousand tornadoes or the push of blood through a heart the size of a universe slammed through the still air and sent the Guardians running down through the house and out the back to their last believers, Jamie still safely ensconced in Tooth's trembling arms.

Pitch fell through the shadows with a triumphant cackle, pulling Jack with him to reappear in front of the sleigh filled with some ten to fifteen children from all over the world. North immediately interposed himself between Pitch and the younglings; on a deeper instinct than thought, he aimed his twin swords at the Boogeyman in a ready stance. When even Tooth released Jamie to ready her fists, Jack found himself letting Pitch go. His staff angled before him, he settled into a defensive pose without thinking about it, only reacting to the hostility before him rather than any thought of the Guardians as being his enemies.

"Maybe you're stronger than you thought, Jack," Pitch murmured, pleased, but not willing to take his eyes off the Guardians for a minute. The night was dark already, yet somehow as the rushing noise strengthened; it seemed that even the light of the streetlamps was dimming.

North's eyes widened and his stance faltered when the first stars blinked out. The darkness was gathering from all directions, blocking their view of even the sky, and Bunnymund fidgeted uneasily on his shoulder.

"We won't let you hurt the children," Tooth snapped, her tension coming to breaking point, "Even as we are now." North nodded, his resolution confirmed and his determination returning, and Bunnymund leapt down to stand on his own paws, "As long as we still have two feet to stand on, we'll stop you!"

"Touching," Pitch drawled, his eyes alight once more, "But I believe your sentiment is misplaced." Horse-like shapes leapt in and out of the rushing darkness, falling like a never-ending tidal wave, crashing over houses and streets to engulf the town of Burgess as Pitch raised his arms in triumph, a broken laugh escaping as his Nightmares swarmed around them. "Do you still believe?" He shouted over the rush of the Nightmares, "Do you still believe you can fight fear?" The Guardians could not answer, their resolve not letting up, but the resignation of a last stand settling in.

"Yes."

Pitch's eyes narrowed as Jamie walked to stand in front of the Guardians, and one by the one the other children joined him. Jamie raised his chin defiantly with his tiny arms steady by his sides, "I do think we can defeat fear."

A sneer spread like oil over the slight unease, "Hiding behind children, now, Guardians?"

"Jamie, kids, what are you doing?" Jack's winds pushed at them, tugging their clothes gently to move them out of the way, but they merely re-settled their stances, and Jamie shot a sad look at Jack.

"You're on the wrong side, Jack," he said, quietly, and the other children stood, confused at whom Jamie's statement was directed (for those who spoke English), but firm in their resistance against the Boogeyman.

"Pathetic," Pitch growled, but then, in a low voice only Jack and the Nightmares could hear, ordered, "Don't hurt the children." Directly after the Nightmares whinnied their frightening assent, he called out, "There's more than one way to break belief, little Guardians!" Anger tensed in his movements as he swung an arm forward, sending the waves of Nightmares towards the weakened Guardians.

"No," Tooth whispered, but Jamie took one step forward, raising a hand to meet the Nightmares dead on.

"You're just the Boogeyman. And I'm not afraid of you."

Gold sand, the color of Pitch's widening eyes, erupted from the spot and he stumbled backwards, away from the threat that pulsed against his skin with a menacing light. Even as he did so, Jack moved slightly in front of him, his mouth actually dry from the implication of the golden sand.

"Sandy!" North boomed, and the little man pulled himself literally together, throwing North a wink before turning towards Pitch with a stern expression.

"Stay back," Jack warned, turning his staff towards the most powerful spirit in the area, even as his heart cringed at the idea of hurting the cheerful man he'd already seen destroyed before.

One solitary snowflake of sand formed and flew away from Sandy's head, his little mouth wide with horror and he looked to the Guardians, unleashing a barrage of images that had North shaking his head, hands held up defensively.

"We did nothing! Jack betrayed us!" He protested, and Sandy turned wounded eyes to Jack, forcing the young sprite to give an involuntary twitch of guilt.

"Not until they tossed me out," Jack defended, shaking his staff once when Sandy made as if to take a step forward, and his eyes narrowed, "But that doesn't matter any more." Jack extended a hand backwards and Pitch took it, pulling himself to his feet even as his Nightmares were screaming at the golden sand infecting their very essences and bursting into the Dream Sand they once had been. Jack charged, leaping over the crowd of children to face the Guardians dead on, but Tooth intercepted with a mean right hook. Ducking under lost him his momentum, but the sudden influx of the remaining Nightmares covered his lapse and he threw a veritable explosion of icy energy at Sandy, trading quick, glancing blows with the little man until something small smacked him upside the head and everything became an unfamiliar shade of black.

Hit that story alert; this tale ain't over.