A/N: Hey guys! Whew, is it good to be writing again. :D

I'm honestly surprised how split my readers are. There's about an even number of Jelsa fans and Pelsa supporters, and I completely didn't expect that at all. I love reading all of your reactions, and I have to admit that I'm split pretty much down the middle, too. That's not making writing this easy...

Well, this chapter turned out to be... not quite what I expected. I should have just named the title 'sucker punch,' actually, since I'm sure all of you will be surprised as well. But it's just a delay in the inevitable. It's gonna happen (you'll see what I mean when you get there).

My obligations still aren't finished (applying to graduate schools overseas is no piece of cake, everybody), so the next update will probably be delayed once again. But good news: I've already written part of it, so at least I won't be starting from scratch. Thank you for all of your support, reviews, favs, and follows while I push through Real Life.

Common disclaimers apply.


Jack tried to think things out as he flew - what he was going to say to Pitch, how he'd have to duel the Bogeyman to get Elsa, and how Pitch was probably waiting with that smug, evil, arrogant grin on his face - but he couldn't organize his thoughts into a semblance of cohesion before all of his anger came rushing back.

Pitch was going to suffer. Jack would make him suffer. He wanted to see the Nightmare King cower - no, writhe on the floor in agony, as Jack was sure Elsa was suffering.

Elsa.

Jack pulled his staff close against his body, trying to make himself as aerodynamic as possible. He couldn't alter the speed that the wind possessed - he had never wanted to, before - but now he wished he had North's snow globe to instantly transport himself to Pitch's caverns. He should have been there already, to wipe away Elsa's tears and pull her trembling body into a protective embrace.

She was probably so scared.

All Jack could see in his head was Elsa's face the last time he'd seen her, when she smiled at him so calmly, so reassuringly. She'd told him she was going to be fine, and she had been doing so well... she had been healing, for crying out loud, and he'd believed her. Like a fool, he left her behind, unprotected -

My fault, he berated himself as he had a hundred times since he'd stumbled back from Jamie's to find Elsa gone. It's my fault. If I hadn't gone to find out more about that stupid story... I knew that Elsa still needed to be taken care of, and that Pitch was still interested in her...

"Dammit," Jack hissed. He swooped between the misty clouds in a tight arc, the rapidly-approaching ground coming into focus as he shot toward it like an arrow. It wouldn't be too long until he reached the woods and the entry to the Bogeyman's lair, but that still wasn't fast enough for Jack. He gritted his teeth, willing himself to hurry.

If Pitch had hurt Elsa - if he'd reduced her to that shaking, tearful girl that she was before - if he'd injured her, or so much as touched her in any way -

I'll kill him.

The fact that the thought shocked only a small part of Jack's mind should have bothered him, but he wasn't in the mood to care. He had no doubt what the other Guardians would have said, but they weren't there. Just me and Pitch, Jack thought. He landed in a spray of fallen leaves and rolled to his feet, not bothering to pick off the strays that clung to his hoodie and then reluctantly fell away as he walked. Just the two of us. And if something happens to him - if our fight does kill him -

Then I don't think I'll mind.

He strode to the hole in the ground that served as the entry to Pitch's domain and dropped himself inside. He landed in a crouch on the cold concrete and straightened, gazing at the familiar shadowy sight of the Bogeyman's home. He flipped his staff over his head and slammed the end on the ground, listening with pride as the sound boomed through the darkened caves. "Pitch Black!" he hollered. "Come out! Show yourself!"

He waited until his voice faded into silence. Apart from the small cascade of unseen rocks, there was nothing.

So Pitch wanted to play this game, did he? Well, Jack had no patience for it. "Bastard!" Jack shouted, swinging his staff sharply upward. Streaks of frost and ice shot up toward the ceiling, striking one of the old cages that had once held countless of Toothiana's baby teeth. The ancient chain snapped and the cage hurtled down, splintering with a terrible crash into a mass of twisted metal and deadly frost. "Face me!" Jack screamed over the echoing din. "You coward!" He glared into the shadows with narrowed eyes, his muscles tensing as he waited for the blur of darkness and yellow eyes that he knew would betray Pitch's hiding place. "Pitch Black! Fight me!"

"He isn't here, Jack."

Jack whirled around, his staff raised in an attack position. Then his brain registered the identity of the speaker and he froze, his eyes widening. Elsa stepped out from behind the ruin of Pitch's skeletal globe, one hand trailing along the rusted edge of Africa. Her icy blue gown was luminous in the half light, the tiny crystals sparkling like morning dew. Her eyes were blue as the sky, blue as the oceans as they met his, and Jack felt his terrible anger begin to slip away. She was like a sculpture of ice, beautiful and perfect - no, like an angel, her majesty too flawless and bright for him to look at directly.

In the darkness, she was a star.

"Elsa," Jack breathed. He dropped his arms, staring at her. Elsa stared right back at him, waiting for him to say more, and Jack opened his mouth to say something, anything -

No, he thought abruptly. No, this isn't right. Something's wrong. He had come here expecting to battle Pitch for a scared, fragile girl who would have burst into tears of relief at the sight of him, or maybe even a girl who had withdrawn into herself to escape the horror of being kidnapped by Pitch -

But Elsa was doing none of those things. She was standing tall, wearing a mild expression as she met his eyes. She had never looked like this in recent memory - not even when she was in Antarctica - and Jack couldn't stop the doubts that began to creep into his mind. Was she under some sort of spell? Had Pitch brainwashed her somehow? That sounds like something he would do, Jack thought, his hand tightening around his staff.

"He's gone," Elsa said, and Jack met her eyes once again. "It's nighttime somewhere in the world, so Pitch went to attend to his duties."

"Duties?" Jack echoed incredulously. Yeah, Elsa was totally brainwashed. "Is that what he calls torturing little kids with nightmares? His duty?"

Elsa blinked She swallowed, lowering her eyes uncomfortably, and Jack took advantage of the hole in Pitch's spell to take a few steps closer. "Did he say when he would be back?"

"No."

"Good." Jack held out his hand. "Then come with me. We can be long gone by the time he returns."

She looked up at him, her eyebrows scrunching together. "No, I'm not leaving."

"Yes you are. I know you don't want to be here - "

"But I do." Her hand curled around the southern-most tip of South Africa, as if her grip alone would keep her from being dragged away. "I want to stay here."

Jack took a breath and tried to keep the impatience from his voice. "Elsa, c'mon, I know you're in there. I know you would never willingly choose to be with Pitch."

"I did."

"But you wouldn't."

"But I did, Jack." She looked at him solidly, and Jack realized in dawning horror that there was truth on Elsa's face. Her serenity didn't come from being brainwashed - it came because she had made a decision.

And she was planning on sticking to it.

"No," Jack said. "No, I don't believe it."

Elsa raised her chin. "It's true, Jack."

"No," he said in a hard voice, "it isn't. What about your fear of Pitch? What about what he did to you?"

"He didn't do anything to me. I did it to myself." Her voice was carefully monotonous, but he caught the slight waver at the end of her words.

"That isn't true, and you know it! What about the battle that you had with Pitch in the cave? I saw the darkness he left behind, Elsa. He beat you, so he brought you here - "

"I asked him to bring me here!" she interrupted. "I wanted to come!"

"No! You wouldn't have left like that!" Somehow his open hand had turned into a pointing finger and he jabbed it at her angrily. "The Elsa I know wouldn't have left like that, without telling me or leaving me a note, or - or something!"

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut. "I know," she said, angling her body away from his. "I know. I just... "

"Stop covering for him!" Jack snapped, and then he caught himself before he could say any more. His anger wasn't at Elsa, after all. "Where is he?"

She slowly shook her head. "I told you."

His words were mocking. "And he trusted you enough to leave you alone?"

"I'm alright by myself."

"That's what you said last time," Jack said bitterly.

Elsa turned back to face him. "Jack, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I... I've hurt you. I've always hurt you."

Was that really why she left? Was that really, honestly, why she went back to Pitch? "I don't care about that," he fired back. "Elsa, you were getting better. You were healing, no thanks to Pitch. It doesn't matter what you do to me, so long as you're becoming more like your old self."

She shook her head over and over again. "No," she moaned. "No, no, no. Jack, it's not... I'm not ever going to get better - not the way you want and expect."

He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she gave him a painful look. "I told you that I had done some things in my past, and it's... they are things I can't... I haven't been able to forget." She swallowed. "Not by myself."

"What do you mean?" Jack stepped forward. "Are you trying to forget your past again?"

"No," she said. "I don't want to forget, but I just don't want to feel the guilt anymore."

Jack clenched his jaw. "And you think Pitch will do that for you," he finished, knowing where this conversation was going.

"He helped me when I was with him before," she admitted softly. "So when he came to me in the cave, I couldn't tell him no."

Couldn't. Just like that. Elsa had gone back to Pitch because she couldn't say no. Jack turned his head away in an attempt to disguise his disappointment and frustration. And just what does he do that I can't? he thought, but didn't ask. He figured it had to do with darkness or manipulation, and he wanted to knowledge of what Elsa had subjected herself to. That would make him even angrier at her, and he didn't want to be.

Instead he ran Elsa's words over in his mind and forced himself to ask slowly, "you say you feel guilty, but why? You haven't done anything to make Pitch's tricks be successful."

He watched as she gulped. "I can't tell you, Jack."

"Why not?" he asked, unable to stop himself. Why was it so difficult to keep his anger in check around her? "Oh, let me guess: did Pitch ask you not to tell, or - "

"I just want you to think well of me!"

Jack didn't respond. Elsa blanched as her words ricocheted off the slanted walls and broken arches, but Jack could only stare at her in stunned silence. Was there something she had done? Was there some truth to her belief that she was to blame for a crime?

No. No, that was impossible. Elsa couldn't do anything truly heinous, that just wasn't imaginable. It couldn't be.

But the look of horror and self-hatred breaking across Elsa's face brought the first flicker of doubt to Jack's mind. She isn't capable of evil, Jack thought. ...is she?

She turned away completely now, her train shimmering with the iridescent beauty of snowflakes and frost. "It would be best if you left, Jack," she said quietly. "Go quickly, before Pitch returns."

Pitch. He was probably the one who had made Elsa do what she now lamented. "No," he said, so firmly that Elsa turned around to look at him. "I'm staying."

She stared at him as if he had gone mad. "But he could be back at any moment - "

"And when he does, I'll be ready." Jack flipped his staff over in his hands and held it cross-wise before his chest. "It's time we settled this, Elsa. Believe me, Pitch has had this coming."

"You'll fight him," she whispered.

The corner of his lips tipped upward. "Oh, yeah. Absolutely."

"No!" Elsa took a few steps toward him and then abruptly stopped, as if caught at the end of an invisible rope. "Jack, if you did that, you'd be no different than Pitch!"

"We are nothing alike!" he shouted, but he knew even as he spoke that he was wrong. The fact that they both wanted Elsa was only the last in a long list of similarities and comparisons between them.

He hated that.

Elsa shook her head slowly. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "You were the light I never had, Jack. You gave me the opportunity to be a different person, to be innocent and free... but that's not who I am. I can't pretend that, not anymore, and I know that if I do, I'll just corrupt you, too. So don't... " She swallowed. "Don't come for revenge. Don't be like Pitch, Jack. Don't be like him."

Jack stared at her, lost in the complex puzzles of her words. It didn't make any sense. So she wanted to be with him... but she didn't, because she couldn't be herself?

And he didn't want to fight Pitch for revenge.

Well, not entirely, anyway.

"Don't ever change," Elsa whispered, her voice sad and pleading.

Jack sighed. "Elsa," he beseeched her, "if you'd just tell me - "

"I can't." She turned away from him completely, then, and Jack knew the action for what it was: a dismissal.

For now, he thought, touching the end of his staff gently against the ground. "Whatever Pitch does to you, it isn't right," Jack said slowly. "Are you really happy, living like this? Are you as happy as you were when you were with him before?"

Elsa's shoulders tensed, and Jack knew she was remembering the conversation they'd had when they first met. No, he told her silently. You aren't happy. Just like you weren't happy then.

"Darkness doesn't fix anything," he told her. "You knew that once, Elsa, and one day you'll remember it again."

"Just go." Elsa's hands curled into fists at her sides.

"Pitch's shadows won't help you," he continued, as he she hadn't spoken. "It only has the power to destroy. It can't heal you."

"Jack, please - "

"You'll remember, Elsa," he said, the conviction in his words making them strong. "I'll help you see that it's true, no matter what - "

"Get out!" She spun around, ice spraying out of her hands in a deadly arc. Jack skipped back just in time and looked up, catching sight of the stark horror on Elsa's face. Her eyes darted to her hands and then back up at him. With an effort she lowered her arms to her side once again. "Just go," she said, moving her head sharply away.

Jack shoved his free hand into his hoodie pouch. "Fine," he said, turned away. He leapt into the air and let the wind carry him away, out into the open sky and into the bright sunlight. He wondered if Elsa had lingered to see him leave.

If Pitch really had gotten to her, then probably not.


Elsa watched Jack until he became a tiny speck of color against the bright sky. Even when she knew he was gone, she kept straining her eyes for him, certain she could still see his tousled silver hair and lanky silhouette if she only pushed herself.

"Don't." Pitch's words came back to her from just the night before, as he pulled away from their kiss." Don't fight against the lure of the shadows. "

"I won't," she'd whispered. She'd fully meant those words, then. She had no reason to fight the sweet oblivion of anesthetized emotion.

And then Jack came.

Elsa's heart was beating fast, like the pulsing beat of a raging storm. She unclenched one of her hands and pressed it against her chest, trying in vain to soothe away her anxiety. She'd known Jack would be upset - she'd known that. But she had never seen such raw, unbridled fury in all her life. Elsa shuddered, remembering how that dangerous light in his eyes had fallen on her. For a moment she could believe that his anger meant for Pitch had really been for her -

Me, and all my past crimes.

She had never been more relieved that she'd gone with Pitch. At least then Jack would never know what she had done.

And yet his face had changed, all his emotion going slack when she admitted that she had left voluntarily. And when he looked at me, he looked so hurt, so injured, like it was a betrayal. It was a betrayal, and I had been the one to hurt him, once again -

Elsa clenched her fist in the delicate gauzy weave of the ice fabric above her collarbone. She expected it to snap and crunch in her hands, but it was stronger than she expected. Jack... She stared up at the sky, wishing she had found the right words to say so he wouldn't have been hurt. She wished she didn't make him so miserable every time they spoke, but he asked too much. He'd always asked too much, even from the first day they met -

A gentle breeze ghosted against her neck, and Elsa stiffened. "Well done," Pitch's low voice murmured behind her. "You sent him off better than I ever could."

She turned to glance at him. "Pitch. I thought you left."

"In a manner of speaking," he agreed smoothly, his footsteps a whisper on the cracked pavement as he came up close behind her. "I arrived in time to see the crescendo and your glorious finale."

"It wasn't glorious," she said softly, turning away again.

"No?" His fingertips trailed across her back, from one shoulder to the other. Elsa barely suppressed the shiver that skittered up her spine. "I haven't seen you this strong, this powerful, since... well, since you were by my side all those years ago."

Elsa shook her head. He thought she was strong? She had felt anything but. "I hate arguing," she explained. "I always have, especially with the people that I... "

Pitch's fingers stilled. "Yes?"

"The people that I care about," she finished quietly. She held herself still, in case the statement would enrage Pitch or tempt an influx of his trademark bitter musings.

But Pitch did neither. He was silent for a few moments, and then chuckles, deep and soft as the touch of velvet, began to bubble up from behind her. "That's unfortunate," he said. "I find that altercations between clever minds are terribly interesting. Not that I've have the experience in a while," he added thoughtfully.

Elsa tried to smile at the clever minds compliment, but her lingering uneasiness butchered the attempt. "I'm not sure I can find joy in something like that," she said slowly.

"I know."

"It's just that Jack - " She paused, only then realizing what he'd said.

But Pitch was already pushing the conversation forward. "Yes, Jack Frost. You shouldn't worry about him; I'd be surprised if he returned any time soon."

Elsa turned to face him. "Why?" Pitch didn't understand; Jack wouldn't give up so easily. He may have accepted her explanation for now, but he'd be back. He always came back - her experience in the tower taught her that.

"Because you chose me over him," Pitch said. He, too, was looking toward the distant sky.

"That's not what this is about," Elsa said, her eyes narrowing. "That isn't why I left - "

He gave her one of his sly smiles. "Of course. But he won't see it that way."

Elsa swallowed.

"I can imagine what he might be feeling: anger, grief, frustration, despair, hatred - "

"Hatred?" Elsa broke in, her eyes widening in shock.

Pitch nodded. "It's a natural feeling, of course. I know it well."

No, Elsa thought. No - Jack, hate me? But she had left for her own good, couldn't he see that? She couldn't cope, couldn't heal, so she had gone to Pitch because he had been the only one who had been able to relieve some of her misery.

But Jack couldn't know that. She hadn't told him - she still couldn't tell him the truth, not even now - and she knew that it would hurt him. Betrayal. Yes, of course, that would be what he thought it was. But because of... because she'd chosen Pitch?

Why would that hurt him...?

Unless... Elsa sucked in a breath. Did he... did he feel... something for me? Something beyond his natural kindness and concern?

Was that why his eyes had been so full of pain?

"No," Elsa whispered, but even as she uttered the word, she knew it was true. All those looks, those rare smiles, those fleeting touches, those times where he didn't give up on her, when he always came back - that was because he cared about her.

He cares. The idea was so sudden, so foreign in her mind. She stared, unseeing, at the ground as the words echoed again and again in her head. Jack cares. About me.

And I... what do I feel? The thought startled her, and she realized she didn't know how, exactly, she felt about Jack in return. Do I... care about him, too?

"It pains you, I see," Pitch said. His eyes flickered over her, and as Elsa met his eyes, she saw there was a sort of satisfied look in those golden depths. "Well," he murmured, "shall I take that away from you?"

"No - " Elsa tried to pull away, but Pitch's arms were already around her, holding her close. She struggled against him, but Pitch was taller and he had braced one hand against the back of her neck, keeping her immobile. The moment his lips touched hers, the fight in Elsa died. She slumped in Pitch's embrace, lost in the darkness that swept over her, erasing her agitation. Then when Pitch began to pull away, she came back to herself, her pale fingers curling against the skintight fabric of his cloak. She rose up on her toes, her neck craning as she searched for his lips again. Her eyes fluttered closed, so she didn't see the twisted smile that curled Pitch's mouth as he lowered his head to kiss her again.

"What did I tell you, Elsa?" he purred as she sank back down to her normal height and buried her face against his chest.

"Don't fight," she replied sleepily. Pitch's voice was like a melody, a dark rhythm that lulled her down toward the shadows. So heavy, so soothing.

"That's right." He squeezed her shoulder, his fingers digging into her skin. She didn't flinch. "That's right," he repeated softly. "So stop fighting."


Jack went back to the cave. He opened Jamie's book to the story of The Snow Queen and read it. Then he read it again. Then he read it one more time for good measure.

It was an odd story, he decided as he flopped on his back in the snow. There were too many weird things in it to be taken seriously - like the part with the talking flowers and reindeer, which was stupid, because of course they didn't talk - and it obviously wasn't really a history of Elsa's past, since he was sure she had never been so despotic.

But there were enough similarities to the current situation that Jack was glad he'd read it. His hunch about the story was right - the story clarified some things about Elsa and the sort of problems that she was facing.

And he was the only one who could help.

For starters, he'd probably have to fight Pitch. No - once he explained things, Pitch would be so angry that he'd want to fight Jack. The truth would be out in the open, and a duel would be inevitable, then.

Maybe the Bogeyman would even be expecting it.

Don't be like Pitch, Jack. Elsa's words echoed in his head, tinged with the same sadness that she had worn on her face earlier that day. Don't be like him.
Don't ever change.

"I'm not," Jack whispered. He stared up at the dim cave ceiling above him and remembered the few nights, not so long ago, where Elsa had curled up at his side. Her soft, warm breaths had tickled his neck and her hand had curled in a fold of his hoodie, her touch hesitant even in sleep. Now Jack turned to look where she had been, the silence and the frigid air a bitter reminder of what was missing.

"It's you who's changed, Elsa."

He needed to talk to North. He'd definitely know something that would help, especially in a fight against Pitch. Jack smiled, imagining the look on North's face if he asked to borrow one of his fighting sabers. Yeah, North would never let that happen, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

And he'd have to report what happened to Elsa - that she was, once again, with Pitch. She wasn't dangerous - it didn't look like she had been recruited for another chance at a hostile takeover of the world - but still, at least one of the Guardians should know.

At least North wouldn't tell him 'I told you so', like Bunny would.

Before long, Jack was in the air again. It feels like all I've done is fly from place to place, he grumbled to himself, and once again wished for the convenience of North's snow globe. Maybe I'll have to steal it from him when he goes in for one of those huge hugs of his, he thought.

It didn't take too long to get to the North Pole, and soon Jack was striding past his favorite Yeti, Phil, and up towards Santa's personal workroom. He didn't bother to knock when he opened the door - that was the sort of action that would put him on the Nice List, and even as a Guardian, he was less interested in the prospect than ever - but he wished he had when he saw who was inside.

"What are you doing here?" Jack demanded, outraged.

"Well that's a fine way to say hallo," Bunny said with a smirk. "G'day to you too, mate."


A/N: There will be more