Chapter Seven:

Jack forced himself to land near to his old lake. The place was stunningly familiar. In his three hundred years, he had explored every nook, every cranny. He had placed frost in the inside of tree trunks; he had swum under the water and counted the frogspawn and tadpoles. He had spent a bit of time raising frogs, but they didn't do too well with all the ice.

Eventually, he had set them loose in the Bennett's garden, and Sophie and Jamie had spent the day trying to catch them and once they'd caught them, hold them. Sophie was a princess lover now, Jack remembered, and would hesitate before doing anything so ungraceful. And then she would jump down in the mud with Jamie anyway, and catch frogs, or bake mud pies and throw them at Jamie when he clowned around.

"This was where I was born," Jack commented. "I rose from the water over there. It was cold and dark, and I was afraid, but I rose and I saw the moon. It was all I could see, that blinding brightness that chased away all of the darkness and all of the fear. I can't believe that something that seemed so.. I don't know, so light and calming would send me to the guardians."

"The man in the moon," Pitch said, "is sadistic. It enjoys the pain of others. The moon sent the guardians, speaks to them. It robbed me of my believers and it left you alone for hundreds of years. Never forget that, if it ever deigns to speak with you. It will try to manipulate you back to its side, but the moon lies. Do not trust it."

Jack laughed bitterly.

"The moon will never deign to speak with me," he responded. "Especially not now. It told the guardians that I should be a member of their group, knowing what happens to a guardian when it has no believers. It wanted me to die. And it almost succeeded. I'm not sure why, I hadn't done anything particularly naughty at the time. Maybe Santa asked it to," he joked. "Seeing as I was always top of the naughty list."

The joke fell flat in his mind. He remembered Santa reaching out to him, when he had thought that Jack was forced to join Pitch. The way that North had hugged him, and told Jack that he could feel it in his belly that Jack was good. Santa seemed to be genuinely glad that Jack was on his side, not going to murder him.

But, Jack thought, he did try to steal all of Pitch's believers and banish Pitch to the dark corners under beds. He knew that their only hope to beat Pitch and avoid dying was for Jack to return to their side, of course he would be happy. And North was a good actor, who had seemed so downright jolly when trying to make Jack a guardian. Or perhaps he was not acting then, perhaps he just wanted to see the murder of the spirit who had topped his hit-list for generations.

"Perhaps," Pitch said. "They are allies, allies against the lesser spirits and darker powers. But more likely the moon thought that I would choose you as my partner, due to our matching powers, our desire for believers and revenge.." Pitch paused. "So he tried to kill you, and at the same time make himself look benevolent to the other spirits. Just a mistake, the guardians would have said, a tragic mistake, as they celebrated your death in secret."

Jack shuddered, and remembered all of the times that he had tried to break into Santa's Workshop when he wanted company. But the doors had always been shut to him, and perhaps for good reason. North may not have wanted Jack to see what he was like on the inside, or to interact with something he considered a lesser spirit, something he considered naughty.

"Sophie Bennett," he said, changing the subject. "Sophie Bennett and the yetis. You wanted me to try giving her nightmares, and you will deal with Bunny and his forces?"

"Yes," Pitch said. "You know where to find her, I believe?"

His nightmare gave Jack a slight nudge in the direction of Sophie's house and Jack heard Pitch laughing behind him. "Good luck, Jack!" he called. "Don't be afraid of your new powers!"

And then Pitch was gone, vanished into the darkness like a shape in the corner of a child's eye. Jack shrugged and snatched a gale from the wind to pull himself upwards to Sophie's garden. That garden held a lot of memories for him as well, not all of them pleasant. Jamie was a nice kid; Sophie was too- but they were big followers of the guardians. Jamie would give credit to North when he made it snow for them every Christmas, and he always felt a twinge of pain when one of the Bennett kids would walk through him.

He moulded the air into a tower below him, pushing himself up to Sophie's window. He remembered doing some of his best frost artwork on these windows, layers and layers of it, a different pattern on each frame. It was tempting to leave a message for her now, but now his powers would send her into a spiral of nightmares and fear if she touched it, and Jack didn't want that.

But he was here to give her fear, like Pitch said. Maybe he would even enjoy it. A large part of him hoped that he would, after all, he wanted to be able to have fun with his powers, not restrain himself for fear of causing children pain. But another part of him, a sliver, thought that it was wrong to enjoy children's fear, even if they were having fun with it. He was Jack Frost, not some scary creature like the boogeyman. He wanted to be seen as someone kids could enjoy seeing, not be afraid of even if it was exhilarating.

Jack remembered Pitch's words: fun and fear are as linked as cold and darkness.

He stepped through the open window and felt his bare feet sink into Sophie's sheepskin rug. The little girl herself was sleeping in the bed across the room. Jack took a moment to stare at everything she had on her windowsill. There was a snow-globe, with a typical depiction of North inside, a few Easter eggs that her parents must have bought her. A clumsily made dream catcher hung from the curtain rail. There was nothing to remind her of Jack Frost and Jack felt a hint of envy.

How many children across the country kept such figures of them, to remind them of the guardians? Millions, probably. But he had never heard a child mention his name in more than passing of a story, never seen any Jack Frost dolls, people never took photographs of his frost patterns as they did of presents under a Christmas tree, or kids having Easter Egg Hunts.

He stepped over to Sophie. Just a day ago, he had flown here with her and taken her back to bed after she'd been found in the Warren. He hadn't looked around properly, he'd thought that maybe one day she'd see him, and being a guardian wouldn't be so bad. She'd been asleep at the time. If she saw him now, she probably wouldn't even know who he was. Her hair was messy over her pillow and her small arms fell at her sides.

Jack lightly touched the top of her head with his staff, willing some of the ice to come out. It trickled gently out, almost seeming to contain sand in it. Jack wondered if it would ever wear off and he could go back to plain ice. There was just one nightmare in there, after all, how long could it last?

A shape took form over Sophie's head and Jack examined it. Sophie's form tightened into a ball, her arms clutched around her knees. She gently rocked from side to side, whimpering slightly. The nightmare appeared to include Santa and Bunnymund. They were fighting against each other, and Sophie was in the middle, running around and dodging egg grenades and slices from North's twin swords.

Jack smiled. It would have been much easier if the guardians were willing to stab one another in the back, but unfortunately, they seemed loyal to each other. He could hear Sophie's heart pounding in her chest through his staff, and her breaths coming out fast. She was excited, he could see. Was she having fun? It was hard to know, she was asleep, but the dream did look quite interesting to be in. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

Suddenly, Sophie gave a scream and her eyes flew open.

There were tears coming from the corners of her eyes and she shivered. Jack's ice shattered into a thousand pieces and was carried out of the open window on the back of the wind.

"Jack Frost," she whispered.

Wait, was that his name she said to herself? Jack stood up straighter. Could the fear have led her to believe in him? Was this the power of fear, that hadn't come with ice and snow? It felt.. Good.. To have such strength, if she had said his name. Fear was powerful. He was powerful now. Not just a simple winter spirit.

"Jack Frost," he muttered. The moon had given him that name, long ago, but she was the first child ever to address him with it. "Can you.. Can you see me?"

"Yeah," she said, almost experimentally. "Get out of my room! You're scaring me. I will call mummy and daddy in here, and Jamie will fight you off! He's brave and strong, and you're no match for him."

Jack laughed. He wasn't sure if it was genuinely funny or if he was upset, but he laughed anyway.

"You're the first child who has ever seen me," he said. "Don't you want me to stay a bit longer? You enjoyed the nightmare, didn't you? It looked like fun- you seemed excited."

"No. I hated it. I hated it more than broccoli. It was scary, and Santa and the Easter Bunny were fighting, but they were friends earlier, in the Warren and I was in the way and then Bunny killed me! It was an accident, and I could see him running over to me, but it was too late and why would I enjoy that?!"

Before he knew what was happening, Jack felt a sharp pain in his ankles and landed on the floor. There was a boomerang under his neck and a huge, fierce animal face nose to nose with his. It seemed furious and Bunny pressed Jack further into the wooden floor, pushing into his throat as he did so.

"Yes," the guardian growled. "Why would she like that? You're far more twisted than I thought if you thought that the anklebiter was gonna enjoy having a nightmare. Did Pitch give you that power? Did he convert you into one of his servants, doing his bidding and spreading fear, eh?"

"Pitch.." Jack muttered weakly, trying to draw air into a his lungs.

"Pitch," said Bunny with a predatory smile, "is currently being ambushed by my egg-golems and North's yetis. He won't be here to rescue you this time, you little traitor. Lucky for you, I need you alive. It's more than you deserve after North and Tooth, but I need to trade you back to Pitch for Tooth and her fairies."

The rabbit paused.

"You're afraid he won't agree, aren't you? Now that you're just one of his minions, you probably don't mean that much to him, do you? I mean, even Tooth wouldn't let her archenemy go to save one of her little fairies, and Tooth is a much better spirit to serve under than Pitch is. You still going to serve him, if he says no?"

"Over you!" Jack spat.

His mind whirred for ideas. His staff was far away from him. Bunny was on top of him and had a boomerang that looked pretty sharp to his neck. What about when Bunny took him to Pitch? Pitch might be able to save him, he'd rescued Jack from a similar situation with Tooth.

"Come on, traitor," Bunny said, yanking Jack up by the front of his hoodie. "Down the rabbit hole!"

xXx-X-xXx

Thanks to all of the people who followed, favourited and reviewed, and sorry that this chapter took so long. A combination of laziness, being busy with my Hunger Games fanfic, and basically forgetting that this one existed before for some reason, I got a bunch of followers in the space of about two days. I've also been having a bit of trouble with doc manager- copy and paste wasn't always pasting. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

-MoonOfPluto