Okay, this picks up after the movie. Enjoy and review

To say that Pitch was enraged after the battle was the understatement to end all understatements. The man in the moon couldn't even allow him one small thing, one small ounce of happiness. In the fifty-four years since he'd nursed Jack Frost back to health, he'd hardly been able to leave the boy alone. While Jack was never aware of it, Pitch was always watching over him. Any attacks against the boy – which had become considerably rarer after what had become known as culmination – were met with immediate and brutal retribution. Soon even the hard headed summer spirits got the idea to stay away from the boy. Still Pitch stayed close to the boy, bringing him food, clothes and the occasional toy; in all that time he never revealed himself to the winter child, even when Jack tried searching out the mysterious source of the gifts. On rare nights, Pitch would even gather the gangly child into his arms like he used to and just lay there listening to Jack breath.

And of course, the moon couldn't even allow him that.

Decades of planning, experimenting with Sanderson's stolen sand, gaining strength and he was finally ready. Ready to put those pathetic Guardians in their place. Unfortunately, Pitch's plans only called for four adversaries. Seeing Jack at the Tooth Palace had thrown him off and hurt him much more than he thought possible. He'd hidden it well – burring his emotions was what he was best at – and tried to chase the boy out of the fight. He'd played on the winter child's fears, given him ample time to leave a fight that had nothing to with him, even offered Jack his memories, but the stubborn boy refused. So, he had the dimwits chase the boy out for him. And then it occurred to him. Maybe, maybe this was a chance to convince the child spirit to stay with him. To see that Pitch was the only one who truly cared and understood him.

Jack turning him down was the most unpleasant shock he'd ever experienced. It was his own fault, he supposed. He'd let his excitement about his assured victory get ahead of him. And of course, Jack wanted nothing to do with such things, and promptly forgot everything else Pitch had said before. Pitch would admit he didn't take the rejection as well as he could have, but being rebuffed by the boy he'd protected for half a century…hurt.

Then the ignorant child had rubbed salt in the wound by aiding in his defeat. And then, to top it all off, by standing by as he was dragged away by his own creations. No. Enraged was not even close to describing how he felt.

Why he went back to watching over the boy who'd been key in his defeat, Pitch had no idea. He chalked it up the need for routine after having his world torn apart. He all but stalked the frost spirit, watching him play with his believers, stumble about being a Guardian, get acquainted with his…..family. He supposed that was what had infuriated him the most. That even after everything he'd done, after all the protection he'd given the boy, Jack choose the spirits that ignored him for three centuries, over Pitch. It was a blow to the heart that never lessened.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

Jack's status as a Guardian had brought back all the negative attention of his fellow spirits that had been beaten down over the years. And with his guardian angel – whom many had deduced to be Pitch Black – down for the count, there was nothing to stop them from going after the child. Jack put up the best fight he could, but there was only so much one small spirit could do alone against a group of over twenty older spirits. Pitch stood by in the shadows, drawn to Jack's fears as he'd been fifty years before. He watched as the group ripped Jack's staff out of his hands and forced him to the ground, angered at the injuries the young spirit had managed to inflict. The punched and kicked him as he yelled and cried, trying unsuccessfully to fight them off.

He stood by as they beat him, trying to convince himself he didn't care. That the boy didn't deserve his protection anymore. And by the time they'd beaten Jack into unconsciousness, he knew he there was no convincing himself. He leaped forward, kicking the fire sprite pounding on Jack's face away and sending his few loyal Nightmares out on the rest. He stood over Jack's prone form, scythe in hand, looking much more powerful and threatening than he felt. It did the trick. The other spirits backed off, weary of such a violent attack from someone they thought was too weak to fight. Before this, Pitch had never made such a public appearance in protecting Jack, always hiding in the shadows. That alone was enough to frighten them off.

With the threat gone, Pitch moved over to Jack's unmoving body. He was out cold, a broken nose and probably some fractured ribs from the looks of things. Pitch could just leave him there, or drop him off at the Pole; leaving him with the Guardians was a valid option now. But…

He knelt down and pulled the bloodied boy into his arms, vowing to hunt down each of those spirits and making sure they suffered twice as much – ten times as much – as he began to rock the child. This is the way things were meant to be, he thought as he closed his eyes in contentment. Jack safe and in his arms. He looked down at Jack's sleeping face, innocent and peaceful despite the bruises. No, no he would take him home, fix him up, and then return Jack to his precious friends. He'd rather take over Jack's protection himself – he hardly trusted his Guardians to do an adequate job – but Jack had already proven he wanted nothing to do with him.

No, he'd take care of Jack like he always had. It was time to accept it. He was Jack unwanted, violent, dark guardian angel.