First there were Fearlings

Chapter 8


The loaned ship was nice Sanderson had to admit. Top of the line, when it was built. But while that was millennium ago, nothing better had been made since. He knew there had been other space faring races then the stars and their allies, but none had traveled to Earth. It was sad, really. He had liked the cosmopolitan feel of alien trade cities.

There was enough room for them to move, which was fortunate. It made it quite easy for Pitch to hole himself up in a corner. Toothiana had tried to talk to him in that mothering way of hers, but he had politely brushed her aside. She may have a lot of knowledge about rediscovering memories, but she didn't have a lot of experience. The only one who did was Jack, and well, it was because of him they were even leaving the Sol system.

Pitch did not even want to talk to Sanderson. The Guardian would never had said they were friends, if any of them were friends with the Boogieman it would be Jack and even that was a stretch, but he and Pitch still shared a connection simply because of their age and what they had seen.

Like Pitch, Sanderson had known of the Golden Age, but had not lived it. He had no connection to it's people and had instead observed from a far when his orbit took him close. Pitch had the textbook facts of it's culture, the memories of it's destruction, but until a few hours ago that was it. Now that he could recall the life of when he had been Pitchner, Sanderson was sure he was recalling friendships and rivalries, loyalties and love. Sanderson's ability to relate had just dropped, and so Pitch had pushed the golden Guardian away as well to sit by himself in a corner.

"I worry about him." Toothiana admitted, not quite loud enough for Pitch to hear.

"Why?" Bunnymund scoffed.

"He just found and lost his family, all in the span of a minute. Surely, you can relate to that!"

"It's his own fault."

Sanderson shook his head, images of fearlings flashing above him.

"He gave in to them."

"Anyone would have, over time." St. North said. "From what I understand, he lasted longer than anyone else could have. Can you not say Bunny, that alone except for fear, that you would not break?"

Bunnymund crossed his arms and went back to staring out the window. Not that it provided stunning views. Moving at the speed of light meant the windshield showed nothing but a bright expanse of white. Sanderson supposed he could change it to show a simulation of motion, but he had no desire to play with Lunanoff's setting.

Changing the subject, Sanderson tugged on St. North's sleeve so he could see the image of the moon followed by a question mark.

"What do I think of Manny? I pictured him older. He doesn't not look much older than Tooth!"

"Yes, I was surprised too. But he was so kind. And took very good care of his teeth. Did you see the incisors on some of those moonmice? I've never been attracted to animal teeth before but oh! So symmetrical! And they glowed!"

Sanderson formed an image of Lunanoff flossing the moonmice's teeth, causing Toothiana to giggle.

"I can't see him doing that. Maybe one of the moonbots though."

There was a scoff from behind them and as one they all looked at Pitch.

"You can't tell me you've never seen bio-luminescence before. There's a number of fish on Earth that have that talent."

"No one looses teeth on the bottom of the ocean."

"What a pity."

-How are you doing, Pitch?-

Sanderson got a scowl for an answer. "My head hurts and my chest feels raw, how do you think I'm doing?"

"Talk with us." St. North invited. "Makes good distraction."

Pitch's scowl deepened. "I don't want a distraction."

"You just need time to processes all those memories." Toothiana fluttered closer. "Lots of time, for a whole life time."

"Because time is something we have a lot of!" He snapped at her, Toothiana jerking back towards the Guardians. "My daughter, who I just remembered I have, who may no longer be sane, has just kidnapped Jack thinking he's a member of a dead species because she feels threatened by something. Something, which is probably very real, that we will no doubt have to face and have no idea how to prepare to fight! And you four just want to have happy conversations about teeth and how lovely this ship is! Are you not worried at all?"

"Jack's our friend, of course we're worried!" Bunnymund marched towards Pitch, but Sanderson flew into his face to stop him. "And you're right, we don't know what's out there, but worrying about it isn't going to make things better. Neither is your little mope fest in the corner!"

"I am not moping! Do you know what it's like, to think you're one person and then suddenly discover you're someone completely different? To learn that you simultaneously are at opposite ends of a spectrum? That you have become what you despised? That, that you left your daughter-" It was very obvious to Sanderson that the Nightmare King looked like he was going to cry.

Bunnymund looked taken aback, but Toothiana flew forward to wrap Pitch in a hug. He let her, for just a second, and then none to gently shook her off. She didn't seem to mind.

-Pitch, I'm sorry- Sanderson said, floating closer.

"Please, don't call me that anymore." Sanderson noted that he had switched from English to Verbal, effectively cutting the Guardians out of the conversation aside from the word or two Bunnymund was sure to understand. "He, he didn't have these problems with feelings."

-Of course you did, why else did you attack us ten years ago?-

Pitch hissed, and Sanderson thought he detected a bit of remorse for that. That was a new emotion.

-Do you want me to use your old name?-

"Yes. No. He too was a different man."

-You are still the Nightmare King, controller of fearlings, even if you are suddenly more than you were yesterday. Pitch Black is a more appropriate name, is it not?-

Pitch frowned, hating his logic.

-And I'll admit- Sanderson continued – I have always called you by your new first name because it is linked to your old second one.-

Pitch smiled at that. "I wondered. You are usually so very formal."

The Guardian shrugged. -Remnants of an older culture. Despite all my time on Earth, some habits are hard to break.-

"I guess then I shall remain Pitch Black, for now."

Sanderson nodded. -If you change your mind, make sure you tell me.-

Pitch inclined his head.

Sanderson had hope for Pitch. He had been on the path out of darkness since Jack came, regaining his memories was a giant leap forward. He had a better chance of changing his story now, of gaining strong believers. He could, Sanderson speculated, even be happy sometime in the future. Especially since they were following his lost daughter.