A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the delay, every time I tried to write Jack's part it always came out wrong so I hope it's OK now. I'll not talk too much but I do want to say a BIG Thank You to Tala White 14 for reviewing and to ambulee, purehearts22 and sirensoundwave for adding this story to their alerts, with an extra thanks going to purehearts22 for also favouriting! :D Thanks for the support guys!

Disclaimer: Not mine sadly, it's just a fun sandbox to play in :)

Carry on :)

Chapter 2

The journey to Burgess was a largely quiet one for the Winchester brother's. This year's Christmas had bought even less joy than usual into their hearts, the occasion tainted from the recent deaths of Jo and Ellen Harvelle. The emotional trauma from that battle was still incredibly fresh, neither brother knowing when they would be able to reminisce on their time spent with the Harvelle's without seeing blood, bombs and sacrifice.

About 10 miles outside of Burgess, Castiel appeared in the backseat of the car. Dean, emerging quite rapidly from his deep train of thought, swerved the car slightly on the slightly icy road, cursing under his breath before addressing the angel.

"Cas! What the hell?!"

"Hello Dean," the angel responded, as stoic as ever, "Sam." He continued, nodding in greeting to the younger brother.

"Hey Cas." Sam replied.

"I thought you couldn't find us because of the sigil on our ribs?" Dean questioned. He had gotten used to having advanced warning of the angel arriving from his phone, and the sudden arrival of his friend while driving had made him slightly on edge.

"I talked with Bobby. He said something about GPS?" Cas answered, his voice questioning at the end, unsure of the term and what it meant. "I dunno," he confessed, "but he used it to find you."

The brother's glanced at each other and half nodded with a shrug of their shoulders. Tracking the brothers around America did seem like something the paranoid old man they loved like a father would do.

"Fair enough," Dean replied, "You still coulda called to say you were coming, I could have hit the car!"

"Apologies, I'll call next time." Cas replied, knowing, even if he didn't understand, that Dean had some sort of connection with his car and was always concerned for the well-being of the vehicle.

"So, what's up Cas? How's the search going?" Sam questioned the angel.

Castiel's eyes had narrowed slightly at the first of the two questions. Sam's lips quirked slightly in amusement. The angel took everything literally and 'what's up' in the literal sense was likely not a question Cas expected the younger Winchester to want to know.

"It has slowed considerably so I thought I'd join with you two for a small while." Cas paused for a moment, eyebrows scrunching together as he thought, "How far up would you like me to describe?" He continued in a confused but serious voice.

Sam and Dean both chuckled, "Don't worry about it Cas, it's fine," Sam replied between laughs.

"You're actually in luck, we're just about to start a case." Dean began before explaining to his friend what they were going to investigate. "Do you know of any demons who attack with ice?"

"None that I know of," Cas replied, shaking his head, "But it isn't as absurd as you might think, Lucifer's element is ice, not fire. He prefers the cold. Some of his first demons could have inherited the same talents."

"Great," replied Sam dryly, not liking the sound of going up against one of Lucifer's earliest demons.

"Huh, who knew the devil ran cold," Dean said, seemingly unconcerned with who or what they came up against. They had already entered the town limits of Burgess and were now searching the snow-covered town looking for a motel. Dean pulled in to the first one they found. After checking in they got themselves settled in their small room. They needed to think of a plan.

~FF Some time later FF~

"OK, so if it's only kids that have seen the thing, we should go talk to them!" Dean argued. He couldn't understand why Sam was being so awkward and all Cas did was sit and look out the window.

"Dean, we've been over this, the parents are having enough difficulty believing their children, they're not gonna let two strangers start questioning them over something they think is just nightmares," Sam responded, appreciating it was inconvenient that the children seemed to be the key witnesses in this cases but still trying to be realistic about their plans.

"But I can't see why not-"

"Dean-" Sam interrupted, only to be cut off my his brother again.

"No wait, what if we were there to help?" Dean suggested, "Like a counsellor or something who, I don't know, wants to help with the nightmares?"

"There to help?" Sam sighed, "Maybe, but it would want to be convincing, the last thing we want is the parents thinking we are encouraging crazy stories."

In the silence that followed Cas finally found his voice, "Perhaps I can also be of help."

Upon seeing he had caught the brothers attention, Cas continued, "I could watch over the children and report back? They'd not know I was there but this way, we might get a better idea of what is going on if we listen in to what they say to each other?"

"You're telling us this now?" Dean said, slightly peeved that Cas had only decided to offer up his side of a plan now.

"Well, you and Sam seemed to be quite adamant that your ways were best. I thought it might be best to wait until you both had came to some kind of agreement." Cas justified. "And we should still do both, but they might say more among themselves than they would knowingly to an adult."

"Alright, well, you do that then," Dean checked his watch, "They'll still be in school, come tell us what you've heard once they're finished up, it's creepy enough you watching them there, actually going into their houses is a little over the top."

"Very well," Cas replied and before any more could be said, he was gone with the distinct sound of fluttering wings.

"Right, well," Dean began, reaching for a beer from the motel fridge, "There's not much else we can do until he comes back," He continued with a sigh as he lowered himself onto the lumpy couch, flicking a switch on the television set as he went. He began to absent-mindedly scroll through the channels, hoping to come across something mildly entertaining to pass the time.

Sam glanced over at his brother, knowing he was right and they would have to just wait it out for now. He opened up his computer, intending on trying to grasp some more of an idea of what they were up against.

~FF~

Jack started awake with a jump. He opened his eyes to be greeted with nothing but pitch blackness. His mind, slowed from sleep, struggled to understand his surroundings. As awareness began to dawn on him, his attention was drawn to the several aches and pains that were littered on his body. It was after feeling a particularly harsh pain from his ribs that Jack first realised he was restrained as he made to move his hands forward to further investigate his aching chest.

With a groan he was hit with an onslaught of memories as he recalled the events that had led to his capture. As he remembered the battle, the resultant marks on his body flared up in pain, each seeming twice as painful now he could remember receiving them.

He took a deep breath to ease the pain and focused instead on his surroundings. He was knelt in the centre of a room, his hands chained behind him attached to a long steel pole which stretched the height of the room. Jack could see little else of the room as he struggled at his bonds. He rose awkwardly to his feet, relieved to stretch out his legs which were cramping in protest from being in one position for what he could only guess was a long time.

He began to test the chains that held him to the pole, searching for any weakness. He was going to get out of here, of that he was sure. Finding little room for movement with the chains, his mind jumped to his staff. His staff! How could he have forgotten before! He instinctively looked down to his right, out of habit just expecting his staff to be always close to hand. It wasn't, and as he looked at the floor around him he had to admit he wasn't surprised. It must've been took by whoever had him, most likely Pitch.

Pitch. How could it be Pitch? Confusion and disbelief raided the mind of the young spirit, knowing that despite the surprise of the situation, there would be no one else who would go to the trouble of capturing the spirit of winter, especially using black nightmare sand. Jack, along with the other Guardians had been so sure they wouldn't have to worry about the Nightmare King for a long, long time. It would seem they had been wrong, Jack thought dryly, a hint of sarcasm twisting his inner voice.

Jack was brought from his musings by the sound of a key entering a lock, followed by a heavy sounding 'click' which seemed to originate from behind him. He spun his head around, heart racing in anticipation. He found it odd that Pitch would lock him behind a door; in his last visit to Pitch's fortress all Jack had saw were overlarged bird cages but then again, he thought to himself, he had saw very little of the lair of the Bogeyman at that time.

The door opened agonisingly slow, Jack readying himself for the sight of his enemy beyond the door. He had noted that he had considerable movement when standing, even if he couldn't use his hands, due to the chain holding him to the pole being reasonably long, and was determined to put up a fight with whoever had came to see him.

Jack's focus soon slipped to shock as he saw who had opened the door. It was not the Bogeyman. It was not even a spirit. It was two humans. Two normal looking men, granted they had ugly looks on their faces and they were the sort of men you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alleyway, but still, they were two men.

Jack did not recover from his shock until the men made to move in his direction. Jack had gotten the distinct impression that these men were not here for a friendly chat, and so he readied his body for action, all thoughts and feelings of pain temporarily shoved to the back of his mind.

The two men stopped in front of the young guardian, almost identical smirks forming on their faces. The taller of the two whipped out a short black strap, drawing Jack's attention to the item. It was rather unremarkable looking, just a black strap with a slightly larger square weight at the top. While his attention was caught, the other man made a lunge for Jack, who instinctively ducked out of the man's reach. Staying close to the pole to prevent the chains from yanking too heavily on his already slightly charred wrists, he stretched out a leg and tripped the man as he recovered, turning once again to grab the Frost spirit.

The man sprawled onto his face, causing Jack to laugh loudly, insistent as ever to face danger with a heart filled with fun.

His chuckles were cut off abruptly from a sharp kick to the young guardian's side from the taller man who had crept up beside Jack to attack. With a grunt Jack fell to his side, the kick having hit his already sore chest with enough force to knock the breath out of him.

After allowing himself a moment to recuperate, Jack hardened his features with determination and turned to rise to his attacker. However, he was never given the chance. Before managing to get to his feet he saw the man above him raise his hand. Jack hesitated, watching and waiting, daring the man to strike him again. But no hit ever came. Jack instead felt his body being held to the ground. He fought to move, only able to raise his legs a few centimetres of the ground with his hands being trapped under his immobile body. He looked down, searching for a sight of the restraints that held him but he nothing was there. A mixture of panic and anger flared up in the young guardian of fun, and he felt ice begin to creep from his hands, which still lay awkwardly behind him, as he glared up at the man.

"Hurry up!" Growled his attacker, not breaking eye contact with the fallen spirit before him as he spoke to his companion. "Get it on him, I can't hold him for much longer!"

Jack smirked at these words, whatever witchcraft this man seemed to be wielding, it was not meant for use against immortals, and having power over winter as well as having the status of a guardian, made Jack a uniquely powerful immortal. His smirk faltered slightly when he saw the man's eyes flash black as he exerted more of his power to hold down the guardian before him.

A demon. Why was he a demon? What was a demon doing with him?! Jack questioned himself briefly before watching as the other man stooped to retrieve the black strap which must've fallen during the previous tussle. The man straightened out the small strap and moved to fasten it onto Jack's ankle, which was still being held frustratingly still.

"No, stop!" Jack began, not wanting these demons to mark him with anything but it fell on deaf ears and the strap was fastened to his right ankle, being adjusted accordingly using the black square at the top.

As soon as the strap was fitted, Jack felt his hands stop producing ice as his powers, that were already difficult to reach without his staff, became inaccessible. He could feel them residing somewhere in him, but they were not open for use.

He growled in frustration, causing the two demons to laugh before they left. Once they had locked the doors again, Jack felt his body be freed from the invisible bonds and he struggled to sit up. He attempted to get somewhat comfortable by leaning his back against the pole he was bound to and folded his right leg so he could get a closer look at the strap on his ankle. He tried with little hope to undo it or slip it off but it unsurprisingly refused to budge. It seemed to be harmless enough, only serving to restrain his already limited powers. He sighed, silently cursing the pains in his body but he knew there was little more he could do for now.

Demons. He thought with exasperation. He knew they existed, but their paths had never crossed before. He had never done anything to piss them off. There was little he knew about the dark species, and he had no idea what Pitch could gain from- The thought was not allowed to go further as Jack realised that Pitch must be working with the demons, giving explanation to how he had returned to power so quickly. That second cloud of nightmare sand that was his undoing wasn't nightmare sand. It was a group of demons.

Feeling more than a little out of his depth in the face of such an adversary, Jack couldn't help but hope that the other Guardians had or would soon notice his absence and come looking for him. What he had heard of demons was not good and he didn't want to be in their company for too long.

~FF~

After locking Jack in the room the two demons headed upwards. They were in an old abandoned warehouse not far outside of Burgess, Crowley refusing to have Jack held in the home of the Bogeyman with the ever-changing fortress being too frustratingly annoying for the demon. They headed toward one of the main offices of the old building were Pitch and Crowley were both waiting their return.

"Well?" Crowley asked once they had entered. Pitch turned to face the two demons as they joined them, quietly assessing their state. The shorter one was scuffed slightly, marks already appearing on his lower jaw. He smirked, glancing at the wooden staff which was perched in the corner of the room, Frost must've put up a bit of a fight.

"Did you get it on him?" Crowley continued. The demons nodded in confirmation.

"Good," Crowley responded, turning to Pitch, "Now he won't be able to go anywhere."

A/N: That's all from me for now, hope you guys liked it! :) If yous have time, let me know what you thought and thanks for reading! :D x