Jack lay on the floor, breathing heavily. He could still flip the tide, he told himself, but he was too exhausted. An icicle hung above him, threateningly close to his nose. He shifted a little. She was powerful, but as he had seen in the past few days, also a tad out of control. He didn't want to get impaled.
"That's three wins each. We're even."
"What?" Jack asked, sitting up, "You can't count the time you had living snowmen hiding around the room. You ambushed me! That's cheating! I didn't even know you could do that!"
"Well, excuse me for using my powers," she replied hotly, flicking the icicle away, "Like you don't have the advantage of FLYING. Not to mention invisibility. How many times have you used that since the first time? I don't even know." She eyed him suspiciously.
"Never," he replied, waving the topic away. How would he even explain the logics behind that? He barely understood them himself.
She stood over him, waiting, watching. He assumed she expected him to get up and fly off like always. He did enjoy their little battles; they were loads of fun. But he wouldn't mind getting to know more about her for a change, instead of just her powers. He watched her. Her hair were a mess, pale strands falling all over her face. Her blue eyes glittered. There was hesitation in her stance, maybe even some expectation.
She's beautiful. The thought had shot through his head, jolting him. He looked away, praying he wasn't going red. He opened his mouth, feeling awkward without the adrenaline pumping through his body pushing him to speak. The fight was over, and the boldness that came with dueling was wearing off. He stood up, brushing himself off. She stepped back, avoiding the swinging staff.
He didn't know what to say. Where to start. With every passing second, he grew more uncomfortable. He wondered for the hundredth time if Guardians were allowed interaction with adults. He never asked, for fear that the answer might be a 'no'.
There's no harm in making human friends, he reassured himself. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we'll talk. He gave a hesitant smile, "Well, gotta get back to work."
"Oh?" There was a question behind that syllable, but Jack pretended not to realize. As always, he flew to the window, and then dropped out.
His thoughts and feelings were still a jumble, so it took him a little while in the winds till his mind was finally clear, and he noticed the unmistakable hum in his staff. The emergency beacon. His heart skipped a beat. He gripped it tighter, sensing the source. Tooth. His stomach dropping, he raced through the sky for the North-West quadrant.
A half hour later, as he was about to reach the location from where the alert had come, Jack slowed down, becoming more watchful, looking out for threats. He stopped at the edge of the city, hovering above the suburban houses, feeling the chill in the air.
In his experience, there were two types of chill. The chill of winter and snow, that is fresh and bright and playfully biting. Even though he himself was immune to the cold, he knew that when snugly dressed, even regular people enjoyed the winter cold.
But what he sensed now was the second kind. The kind that seeps into your bones, making you feel weak and powerless. A chill that went in with your breath and then just stayed there, sitting on your chest and suffocating you. He remembered feeling such a chill before.
"Pitch," he whispered, clenching his teeth, tensing his muscles. His grip on his staff tightened and he descended to a window of the closest house.
It was a child's room. A little girl lay in bed, squirming and fidgeting, her blanket knotting around her. Her eyes were closed but her legs paddled around. Jack felt a pang of pain and anger when he saw the distress on her face. He let himself in, walked up to her bed and gently held her by the shoulders, shaking her softly. Ignoring the swirling darkness around himself, he spoke, "Hey, wake up. Little princess, get up."
She wouldn't wake. He looked around the room. Where was Sandman? Where were the dreams that were supposed to protect the children? He felt a sense of deja vu, remembering the first time they had faced Pitch. He let out a forced breath, not letting the worry get to him. He wasn't afraid, but there was fear in the air, and it was contagious.
He tried to wake the child again, then decided she was safest in bed, and flew out the window in search of the source of the problem - and also his friends.
"Tooth?" he called out, floating over the city. She had sent the distress beacon. She had faced this - alone. Because he had downplayed the seriousness of the situation, a voice said to him. Because he had convinced everyone that they didn't need a double patrol. Because he was selfish and self centered. He shook his head. It was the fear in the air speaking. He wouldn't let it get to him.
"Tooth!" he cried out again, "Sandy?"
"Over here!" He heard a cry and went after the source of the sound. He found Bunny hiding in an alleyway.
"Oh thank heavens!" Jack cried out as he landed beside him, "Where is everyone?"
"Quite!" Bunny reprimanded, standing with his back flat against the wall, his hands to his side.
"Where is everyone?" Jack whispered.
"Back alley," Bunny replied, not moving a muscle, save for darting his eyes to the right.
"Why are we hiding from them?" Jack asked, confused, eyeing the dark alley to their right.
"We're not hiding from them," Bunny hissed, "We are hiding from the children."
"What?" Jack asked, his voice returning to its usual volume as Bunny confused him with every word out his mouth. Bunny winced at the sound, but then shrugged non-commitally. Jack decided it was best he saw what was going on himself. He stepped around Bunny and slowly tip toed into the alley. He heard voices. It was Santa, talking soothingly to a child. Tooth was sobbing. His nerves fired with concern and uncertainty. He took another bold step and finally saw the scene just a few feet in front of him, taking fold under a street lamp.
Three children, none more than ten years old, had surrounded Santa and Tooth. They carried what looked like glowing nerf guns in their hands, and had them pointed at their 'captives', both of whom looked drained and disturbed. Worst of all were the looks on the children's faces, devoid of joy or wonder or fun, filled with malice; threatening and cruel.
"We are your Guardians," Santa was saying in a soothing voice, his large tattooed hands raised in a placating gesture, "It is our duty to protect you. We love you. We would never harm you. Please, love, put that down."
The scene was so wrong on so many levels, Jack didn't know how to react. His heart hammered in his chest as he retraced his steps. Within a few seconds, he was flat against the wall next to Bunny.
"What do we do?" he asked.
xxx
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