Okay, so here is chapter 2! Not liking this one bit…BUT, I suck at beginnings in general. I feel I do way better when it comes to action, pain, and evilness. I guess I like writing dark stuff. So, sorry for the crappy beginning – I THINK it gets better by the end, but that's up to you to decide. Hopefully my writing will get better as this story progresses, since there will be less introduction and more STORY.
P.S. I did not edit this at all – sorry if there are a lot of mistakes :)
P.S.S. it was brought to my attention by GGCharms that the song The Silence by Mayday Parade is a really good song to listen to if you want to think of Jack - and it really is! You should go take a listen :)
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Rise of the Guardians.
It was the middle of the night here in Burgess. Jack sat cross-legged in the middle of a frozen lake, eyes closed, staff laid carefully across his lap. The cold wind brushing against him was like a comforting caress to Jack. Listening to the sounds of the night, he thoroughly enjoyed the soft snow fall gently sprinkling over his pale skin and the surrounding area. Here, in this isolated little area, he felt safe – here he felt happy.
Not that he wasn't happy in general; the world was saved, Pitch was gone. He was a Guardian. People believed in him. He was ecstatic, he really was! He just wondered what would happen now that his 15 minutes of fame were over – if the Guardians would go back to their workshop and palace and hole and just...work until the next threat arose. Is that how this gig worked?
His doubts were probably irrational, but being alone for over 300 years can give you some abandonment issues. Now that he knew North and Sandy and Tooth and Bunnymund, he couldn't honestly say he wasn't more grateful for their acknowledgement of him than his induction into their child protection club. They kind of grew on him – even Bunny.
It's only been a few weeks, but things were already starting to look up. No more nightmares, no more missing memories. Not quite back to normal yet, but getting there. He remembers the night rather well – it was hard to forget the night where Jamie finally saw him, Sandy came back from… where ever he was, Pitch was shoved back into his pit, and he took the oath to guard all the children of the world against danger. No matter how many times he says it, it still seems too good to be true.
The sleigh ride back to North's was quick and noisy, all the Guardians celebrating their victory. Bunny, though still uncomfortable, was able to distract himself to a degree where he wasn't cowering behind his big ears. Jack remembers wanting to ride the wind, but feeling too exhausted to try.
He felt the bruise along his temple from where Pitch threw him against a dumpster and winced. He was still tired and sore.
When they arrived back at the North Pole, an air of relief and fatigue had washed over them all (almost letting Fear rule the world would do that). Jack remembers the proud, but heavy steps of North as he pushed his way through the doors, only to be swamped by yetis and elves. They congratulated us in their gruff yeti-language (who no one but North seemed to understand) and almost painful pats on the back.
He remembers heading towards the Globe room, smiling as he saw all the shining lights. A silence that followed their entrance – not awkward, but nice. Flashes of Sandy conjuring above his head ZZZ's to show us he needed to deliver his dreams to the rest of the world, Bunny agreeing, needing to head home, reminding us all of the damage wrought upon Warren.
There was still a huge mess to clean up. At that memory, Jack couldn't help but feel exceptionally guilty, here; out in the middle of the night instead of helping to clean up the mess he'd accidentally created. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. A squeak echoed at his ear and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Baby-Tooth, who had become an almost permanent shadow of his, seemed to know what he was thinking about. She rubbed against his cheek in comfort, immediately snuggling back into the hood of his hoodie in an attempt to keep warm.
The quiet howl of the wind was the only thing heard throughout the area as Jack took a silent breath in. As he was breathing out, he felt a subtle shift in the falling snow. The temperature seemed to drop of its own accord. As an uncomfortable chill traveled down Jack's spine, the hair on the back of his neck prickled.
He froze, sitting up straight. Something was here…he scanned the area furtively, alert for danger, but almost as soon as it came, the chill disappeared. A lingering feeling of being watched, however, was left behind.
Paranoia? He wondered. He held back an exasperated laugh; since when was he so wound up? Pitch is gone, powerless. The world is safe and there is no need to worry…He forced himself to relax, lowering his eyes to glance upon the knotted staff clutched in his hands. He's been practicing using his powers without it. Not much progress has been made, but he was starting to get the hang of it. After Pitch broke it, Jack had really started to see just how vulnerable the weapon was – and just how weak he was without it. He was eager to learn the ways of the weather without his staff.
Just as he was about to put his staff down, he felt it again. This moving presence through the snow – he was not imagining this. Leaping into the air with the help of the wind, he held his staff in front of him.
"Whose there?" he barked, taking in the surrounding forest. He was starting to thinking that the isolation wasn't such a good thing anymore. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack thinks he sees something, but when he whips his head in that direction, there is nothing. Again, he turns, his heartbeat speeding up as he anticipates an attack. He sees that something again. He faces it and stiffens as his eyes are drawn to the edge of the shadows casted by the trees.
Long shadow tendrils are emerging from the border of the forest. Immediately, Jack blasts the ground with ice. All around they seemed to be slinking towards him, not even making a mark on the snow-covered ice. How can this even be happening? Jack thought. Is-
His thought was cut short as a shadow shot forward and wound around his ankle. He yelped and smashed the ground with his staff, trying to dislodge the creature and its painful grip on his leg. It snapped back towards the edge of the trees shadows. Jack winced as it left, feeling a prick of pain where its hold on him had been.
Another shadow came from behind him and slithered up his back, much to his surprise. He blindly swung his staff behind him as the shadow brushed against the collar of his hoodie. He tried to reach up with his free hand and yank it off when another looped around his arm, holding it in place with surprising strength. Jack cried out in frustration as he swung madly with his weapon, freezing some shadows into snow. Not enough of them though.
They seemed to have no end – they just kept coming and coming, surrounding him. He couldn't fight them all, especially now that his staff lay on the ground next to him, ripped out of his hand. He said he made progress working without his staff, but the panic flowing through him prevented him from focusing long enough to try it now.
Instead, he jumped in the air, willing the winds to help him escape with a grunt of exertion. Unfortunately, nothing more than a breeze was conjured, and the tendrils crawled further up his body and pulled him down so that he lay on the ice, completely at their mercy.
Struggling was useless, he knew, but he put up a fight anyway. He yelled into the night, but he didn't think anyone could hear him. A flash of green caught his eye and his eyes darted towards it. Baby-Tooth. She needed to get out of here before she got hurt. "Go—" he hissed as the shadows sliced through his clothes and ripped into his skin. "Baby-Tooth, go!"
Jack didn't wait and see if she listened. He shuddered as the shadows crawled over and around him. It felt like a dozen people were grabbing at him with sharp nails. Just as they were about to suffocate him, a weak laughter started echoing off the trees, faint as if from the opposite end of a tunnel.
"Do I sense fear, Jack?" Pitch whispered menacingly. His voice seemed to stab into his ears, despite it sounding weak and distant.
"Pitch!" Jack growled, renewing his efforts to escape. "How did you—"
"Miss me?" he interrupted, almost seductively. Another laugh escaped Pitch. "I certainly missed you."
Jack gritted his teeth in disgust – he could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Let me go!"
"Now, now, Jack. Be patient." He paused, as if waiting for Jack to reply. "I want you to do something for me. I want you—"
"I'm not doing anything for you, Pitch."
"Still the charmer, I see. If you want me to let you go, you'll listen like a good little boy and do what you're told."
It took all of Jack's will not to retort back. The shadows were pressing against him with increasing strength, as if they were trying to break the thick barrier of frozen water underneath him.
"Good," Pitch purred, "I want you, Jack, to remember this moment. Remember the fear I can taste seeping out of your pores. Spread the word; Fear is not dead. Fear cannot die. Can you do that, Jack?" His voice was mocking.
The shadow tendrils started to constrict around Jack, cutting off his air supply. He choked in response.
"Tell the others that Pitch sends his regards."
Then the voice was gone. Then the shadows were gone. Then his vision was gone.