Drama in this chapter folks, so settle in, because I kinda like how this is starting to turn out. For a while I got hazy about the fic, but my passions have been reawoken, thanks to the wonderful reviews that I've been getting since I last posted. Keep it up, if you want more (almost at one hundred, whoo!)

Just so you all know, I may change the rating on this to M, with the next chapter, and with some upcoming stuff, so, you know, be ready (I'm considering writing a scene between Pitch and Darcy, totally consensual, but I'd need to change the rating, and I'm contemplating just making an exerpt fic). Give me your opinions on which one would be better, but it won't show up for a good little bit.

Thank you everyone that's reviewed, you're keeping me alive! Love you all!

Outside of the library, the snow fell, nearly blue in the reflection. Darcy didn't notice them though, so caught up in the tall stack of books that she was reading at her own leisure, for once, rather than what the school had ordered her to do. The chair was close to the fireplace, and precarious stacks of books piled up around her at fantastical angles that shouldn't be possible.

She'd searched the library from top to bottom, looking for something that she couldn't remember; hence the books. There was only so much time to find It, whatever It was. Finally, she settled on the one she was now flipping through, hoping that this was the right one.

Part of Darcy knew it was a dream, but she didn't acknowledge it; instead, she focused on the thick leather book open on her lap, a book of fairy tales. She'd had a weakness for them since she was little, and had harbored a preference for the fantastical and the impossible.

Something moved from the corner of her eye, but Darcy only looked up through her lashes, without moving her head. A small, round man was perusing the shelves, humming to himself. He wore what looked like a white suit, but it was hard to tell from behind. Without realizing it, Darcy abandoned her attempts to read and openly watched him.

"Have you found what you wanted?" He suddenly asked, without turning to look at her.

"Pardon?"

"Everyone comes to the Great Library for a specific purpose. They are all looking for something. Did you find it?" He clarified, turning around finally; his face, his eyes, his nose, everything was round. But his smile was kind.

"I don't know." Darcy replied. Why was she here? What had she come for? "Who are you? What is this place?" He chuckled, and walked smoothly over to the circle of armchairs, sitting down with a small gold book in his hands, stroking gthe cover fondly.

"Calm yourself, my dear. Have you not guessed who I am? We have time yet, think on it for a moment." He teased gently; and Darcy did get another look at him. She took a good long look, and thought about the sense of serenity that he inspired, but also of distance and security, before it occurred to her with a jolt.

"You're the Man in the Moon." He laughed, and nodded, clapping his hands enthusiastically.

"Oh, right on. How long has it been since I've actually spoken to someone...must be centuries, so forgive me for my formal attitude. As for this place; Darcy, you've inadvertently stumbled upon the Great Library that Katherine keeps."

"Mother Goose?"

"Yes, she protects it with a special spell, but your...powers, seem to have short circuited the spells I believe. Now, lean closer, let me have a better look at you." Obediently, Darcy scooted closer off the cushion, as his strange eyes (they seemed to reflect anywhere from grey to gold in the firelight) studied her intently. It made Darcy nervous; why did he want a better look? Before he giggled and clapped his hands together enthusiastically (again). "I see it now! Wonderful, wonderful! I'll admit, I was more than a bit nervous about what you may start, but I'm confident that you'll do well. Now, onto the Great Library; this is where everything that ever was, or may be, is stored. Everything has a place here, fables, legends, songs and histories, it's all here. Katherine keeps this place for those who need, truly need, whatever it is that they're looking for. Under recent circumstances, though, she's temporarily closed it. Apparently, you broke in though, I believe your people sometimes call it Astral Travel?"

Darcy blinked, and shrugged; was she dreaming?

"Yes, Darcy, you're dreaming. But dreams always have meaning to them; you need something here, and you haven't found it, have you?" Darcy instinctively wants to nod, because although she likes this man, she doesn't quite trust him. Instead she finds herself shaking her head.

"I don't know why I'm here. I'm confused." She admitted quietly; she sounded every bit the scared child that she was, hiding behind the magic and the stubbornness and the masks.

"Well that's normal. Most people don't know exactly what they need to know, so they wander aimlessly through the stacks. Katherine doesn't have time to help them sort through everything, but they aren't in your situation. I saw you here, and I decided that we must converse." He held out the gold book, and Darcy took it without hesitating. The moment that her fingers touched the cover, a warm feeling spread from te tips of her fingers to her toes.

Darcy pulled it close, feeling something...hum, inside of her with the book in her grasp.

"I take it that's what you needed then." MiM noted, Darcy just watched him.

"What is it?" She asked slowly. MiM sighed and tapped his chin thoughtfully; how would he explain this to such an innocent.

"I'm not able to tell you all that there is to know, Darcy. Even I have rules to follow. All that I can say for the moment is that you are beginning to grow in a way no one could have imagined for you."

"Whatever." MiM sighed; Darcy had a good heart, but she wasn't the most stable of all heroines, and frankly, he wouldn't place money on her if he had a choice. "I'm only here temporarily."

"No, Miss Darcy, you're not in this for a day; you're very important for the Guardians and their upcoming battle. You're not going to be able to walk away from this, now that the ball has begun to roll, I'm afraid."

"What ball? What's going on?"

"Just take the book. Everything that you need is there. Tell everyone that I said hello. And, my dear, please go easy on Pitch; he's a little overwhelmed and out of his element at the moment." Before MiM had even finished speaking, the sound started to get fuzzy, and the light began to shift, and dissipate. The last thing that Darcy saw as she seemed to fall away from the Great Library was MiM's slightly condescending smile.

(line)

Darcy wakes up wrapped in a warm blanket; she feels tense and she doesn't know exactly why. Moments ago, she was perfectly relaxed, but she isn't sure what has changed. It takes a moment for her to realize that she's in what must be the Hospital Wing of Santoff Claussen, because she can smell the chemicals and the medicine that she woke up to after her life was shattered. Since she came out of the meds induced stupor, and then the coma, she's had an instinctive distrust against the smell of medicine.

Darcy makes herself sit up, and winces when she feels something sharp dig into her ribs. She reaches under her and fishes out a small, thick book, bound in gold leather.

Her heart freezes; this is the book from her dream.

With trembling hands, she holds it to her chest. That wasn't a dream.

Darcy can't do anything about that now, except maybe tell North about it, but first, she has to get out of here.

Although the fort is large, the healing area is very small, comprising of only a single room, made up of 30 or so beds. As Darcy looks around, she realizes that Pitch isn't present, and that she is in here alone.

How long was I asleep? she wonders absently; couldn't be too long, but when had she even fallen asleep. Everything was fuzzy before the not-dream...

Darcy slid out of bed, flinching as her bare feet made contact with the floor.

(Line)

North didn't expect the others to take Pitch's story well, and had been prepared to restrain Bunny, in case he got violent.

Remarkably, Bunny had managed to stay calm throughout the story, though he glared at Pitch with all he was worth, until Pitch had let slip the part about Darcy and he being 'true mates'.

"Ye bloody bastard! Yeh put yer mitts on tha' girl I'll shove this lucky rabbit's foot so far up yer-"

"Bunny please calm!" North shoves the Pooka back into his seat, but Bunny was having none of it.

Pitch had destroyed his family and his species; he'd nearly destroyed the Guardians less than a year ago; he'd tried to kill not only them, but also innocent children because they'd stood in the way of his getting into power, and had (temporarily) turned Sandy into a Nightmare, as well as ruined Easter. Now, he had the nerve to try and lie about a trusted friend off theirs, and had the audacity to claim that he and Darcy were soul mates or whatever? No, no, that wasn't about to happen.

"Bunny, please, let him talk!" Tooth presses, her wings fluttered nervously behind her.

"No! Have ye all lost yer minds! Yer trustin a creature that's tried to ruin us throughout time! He's ruined our lives!"

As they argued, Jack stays silent; he watches the scene with a type of thoughtfulness that none of them can say they'd thought he could possess.

Jack has learned, after years of being ignored, to see things most others can't. The majority of the time, though, he's your average 17 year old boy. While his family argues, Jack watches Pitch, and sees the nearly defeated hunch in his shoulders, and the quiet way that he seems to fiddle with his robe.

He hates the Nightmare King as much as the others, but he doesn't believe that Pitch is lying right now.

"-Manny healed him, Bunny! Tell me, why would MiM heal his own worst enemy if he lies about something so major!" North demands, looking every bit like his former "Nightmare of the Cossacks" days.

"And the sheila? Are you honestly telling me that you believe that they're mates!"

"Actually, I'm wondering about that as well." Tooth admits, hesitantly, Baby Tooth chirping her two cents worth as well.

"Look, rabbit, I'm only relaying what he said. I don't know if that's true or not." Pitch defends, raising his hands in surrender; frankly he could care less about whether or not the rabbit cared. All he needs to believe him are North and Frost, and he's relatively certain that Ombric can be taken care of.

All that the Rabbit and Fairy know is brute force and numbers; Ombric uses magic to fight his battles, and while North also has his strength as an advantage, he's also a rather talanted magician (hence the magical toys no one replicate), and Frost has a type of magic that defies the normal laws of reality. Sandy might also be able to help, but the dream maker is only a threat to him, so he's rather biased in his view about it.

"So, you admit, that you don't want Darcy? She's a pretty attractive female, or haven't you noticed?" Bunny tempted, Pitch rolls his eyes and gives the rabbit a slightly patronizing look.

"Hiding something, are we, cottontail? Those are your words, not mine. She's like any other human, to me." Pitch lies.

Of course he's noticed Darcy's appearance; he'd be a fool if he hadn't. But that's nothing to do with what he may be to her, or vice versa, and the rabbit is only trying to get under his skin.

Jack only noticed that someone had answered the room after Pitch had said this, and saw a hurt looking Darcy clutching something to her chest. Her eyes were locked on Pitch, and before she said anything, he realized, that she'd heard the last sentence.

There was an awkward silence as everyone took in Darcy's appearance; the hurt look is gone quickly, replaced by one of kind contentment.

"Hey, everyone. How long was I asleep?" Darcy asks; Jack notices a book under her arm, but doesn't mention the white knuckled grip that she has on it.

"Only a couple of hours, Darcy. You seemed really tired; we thought we should let you rest." Tooth admits, flitting to her side. Sandy made several symbols above his head, and takes a moment for Darcy to figure out what he's asking.

How did you sleep?

"Oh, I slept alright; I had a really nice dream. You're work, I'm guessing?" She teases gently, Sandy grins and shrugs.

Anything to help a friend.

Darcy grins right back and eyes Pitch coolly; he's the only other one to see Darcy's calm hurt and anger, but if he reacts to it, no one notices, not even her.

"You look better, Pitch. Healed alright?" He chuckles without humor.

"Yes. Apparently Manny thought it would be best to assist in my well being; the wonders of magic, I suppose." Darcy nodded, but then seated herself on the floor, cross legged.

"So, what's going on?" She asks, and the story is relayed to her.

"An' then, as if we're gonna believe this, apparently, Ombric told Pitch that you were-"

"A pawn," Pitch interrupts; everyone turns to look at him, but he's watching Bunny with a very intense glare. "According to Ombric, you are descended from Atlantian Magic. Your powers have begun to awaken, and it's strength is something that he desires. He had you return to Burgess, where magical residue is still highly apparent."

"But what for? Why is he trying to use me?"

"Ombric has, I believed, become somewhat unhinged in his time alone. He's...aiming to ruin everything."

"Like you?" Bunny snaps, Pitch rolls his eyes.

"I admit my mistakes, Rabbit, what more do you want? Anyhow, my plan was to gain believers; you were all in the way. If I'd have thought you'd have conceded to letting a child have a nightmare every now and then, I wouldn't have done anything. Oh, and a visit every now and then would have been nice as well, it does get lonely, you know." Darcy giggles at his petulant attitude.

"So, the next question is, what can be done?" Tooth asks; she rather likes Ombric, and she wants to try and help him, if they can.

"I think that we should pretend that Pitch is still the enemy." Jack says slowly. No one says anything, so he continues talking. "From what everyone's told me about Ombric, he has a serious case of megalomania, it sounds like. When Pitch didn't follow his plan, he beat him within an inch of his life. He doesn't expect things to go astray from his plan, and right now, since he knows everyone's secrets, our best bet might be to pretend that we don't know anything."

"Oh, so I'm to be alone again?"

"No Pitch, not safe. It's already been demonstrated that Ombric's magic can make your darkness useless. You will have to stay here, where is safe." North says kindly; the Boogeyman laughed derisively, and everyone noticed as the few shadows in the room grew restless and the lights flickered.

"I'm to stay here?" North nods and that laugh turns bitter. "In case you haven't noticed North, I'm not quite meant for the warm and fuzzy and cheerful," he shivered dramatically before he began to pace, his arms behind his back. "If I stayed here it would be worse than a prison; this place is my own version of hell."

"Wait just a bloody minute!"

"And besides, your pet rabbit may just have an aneurism."

"We're just buddies with this blighter now!"

"Bunny, please; there isn't much else that we can do with him-"

"I happen to be standing right here." Pitch mumbles, crossing his arms.

"But the better question is what about Darcy?" Darcy suddenly found herself under everyone's careful scrutiny again. Pitch notices that she seemed to curl in on herself under the attention, and noted the blush that dusted from her cheeks down her neck. "We can't just leave her alone, if she's Ombric's target, then we can't just leave her in Burgess."

"And what about Jamie and Sophie?" She asks nervously, afraid for the two. "I don't think that Ombric is going to be able to leave them alone if he's as crazy as everyone seems to be describing." Sandy scratches his head, and an image appears above him; a crescent moon.

"Good idea, Sandy! We ask Manny for advice!" North booms, before Darcy decides to speak up.

"Um, he's aware of the situation." She interrupts, quietly. North's eyebrows draw together. He too noticed the book.

"Darcy, is there something that you should be telling us?"

"It's...a bit confusing." So, quietly and hesitantly, Darcy relayed her dream, and the strange conversation with Manny where he'd spoken with riddles and in hints. "...he told me that there are rules to follow, and that he can't say anything to me, or to us."

At that moment, Phil the yeti interrupts, speaking in his growls and gibberish, North translates that Jamie and Sophie are asleep in the workshop, and should be taken home before they are all missed.

"Who's taking us, then?" Darcy wonders out loud.

In the end, Bunny volunteers to do it, and gathers Jamie up in his arms while Darcy takes Sophie. North allowed Darcy the book, because "if Manny gives to you, alright with me." And no one had disagreed with him.

"I can only take yeh to the treeline in the backyard, but it's not a walk. Yeh'll all be fine." He says gruffly, and Darcy nods.

Now that the tale is relayed to him by Pitch, Bunny can understand why he was getting such an odd feeling from Darcy; Atlantian Magic is a type of earth magic, and it's very volitile, especially when it's beginning to mature. Because he was more in tune with the earth than the others, he supposed it would only make sense that her magic reacted differently with him.

The tunnel navigation took a bit, because he wasn't going to go full speed; so, an hour later, he assisted Darcy back up to the surface and helped her get a grip on both the kids.

"Look, I'm not supposed ta give yeh this, but because of all that's goin' on, I thought that yeh would need this." With a bit of effort, he managed to place a snowglobe into her hand. "Only for an emergency, yeh saw how it's done, yeah?"

"Just say the destination and throw it?" Bunny nods, and Darcy smirks. "Jack uses snowballs."

"Jack is a winter sprite. It's different fer him. You watch yerself, we'll come get yeh all soon as we figure out what's goin on. He'll check in on all of yeh, but try and stay away from anything stange or unusual fer now." Bunny warns, before suddenly looking like he'll be sick.

"Thank you Bunny. Tell the others that I said that as well?" Darcy whispers; Bunny nods, and without warning pulls Darcy into a fierce hug. His fur is warm and soft, and it makes Bunny want to giggle.

"G'bye," and then he disappears down the rabbit hole.

Darcy smiles one last time, and struggles to shift things around; she now as Jamie on her back, Sophie clinging to her front, and a book and a snowglobe in her grasp.

Just another day in paradise.

(line)

"Pitch, why didn't you want Bunny telling Darcy about what Ombric said?" Jack asks quietly, approaching the brooding shadow.

"It isn't your business."

"Darcy's a friend, Pitch. It's my business." Jack says obstinately; he doesn't think he's ever seen the Boogeyman look as lonely and out of place as he does right now, milling around as their impromptu meeting is on break.

Pitch thinks on it, half tempted to tell the truth; that he doesn't think that Darcy knowing about the plans of a madman will help her. She doesn't need to know the way Ombric is planning on manipulating her future and her fate.

"Because, Frost, I always need an ace up my sleeve."

Electric blue eyes meet gold in skeptiscism.

(line)

Darcy sits with Amy in the kitchen where, mere hours ago, there was so much laughter and joy. Now there is awkwardness and sad silence. Amy stares at her long cold mug, and Darcy knows that she must have fought with Neil again. Ordinarily, she wouldn't stick her nose in their business, but she needs to know what grounds they're on, and how soon she should need to move out.

Jamie and Sophie are tucked in again, dead to the world, so Darcy risks it.

"Where did Neil go?" She asks coolly. Amy smiles sardonically.

"Would you like the lie or the truth?"

"Both, if you don't mind."

Amy pushes her glasses up her nose and sighs. Where did her life go, that she was discussing her marital problems with her 18 year old neice? "He says that he's pulling overtime, extra money for Christmas." Amy spits out the word, cold outrage coming in, before pulling back out like the tide. "He's either at Martha's, or he's down at the Oasis." Darcy remembers the small pub on Main Street that her aunt speaks of, but she's disturbed at the resignation in her voice. "I loved him once, Darcy, and I know he loved me...but, but what happened to him?" Amy's eyes overflow with tears and Darcy puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He's so mean to Jamie, just because he's not the son that he wanted, and he never pays attention to Sophie. He isn't the man that I married, and I don't know what to do!"

Darcy let Amy cry and rant, occasionally mumbling something, but mainly listening. She was used to this kind of thing; her friends used to think that she had all the answers, and if not, well she was always a very good listener.

Eventually, Amy calms and apologizes, before heading up to bed herself. Darcy does the dishes, and then goes up to her room, intent on doing something relaxing, as she isn't tired.

She shuts and locks the door, settling for collapsing onto her mattress and groaning.

Down the street, she can hear a group of drunks singing off key, and laughing wildly. She feels her lips pulls back in an instinctive snarl, and imagines that she can smell the whiskey on them.

The group comes ever closer, and she gives a start as she see's Neil in the streetlight, leading the pack. Disgusted, she shuts her curtains, and tries to think of something to do that could settle her temper.

Her eyes land on the book.

(line)

Ombric smirks to himself as he manipulates the anger in weak Neil's heart, and makes it fester and grow.

"Remember," he hisses into his dizzy mind, so simple to confuse, "how she speaks badly to Sophie and Jamie. How she undermines you. How the bitch has the nerve to speak back to you! You must teach her a lesson. Her and the whore that she insisted on letting move in, who tells those simple children those fairy tales that mean nothing! Punish her! Punish them! Make them regret crossing you!"

Neil doesn't know where these thoughts are coming from; all that he knows is that he's powerful tonight, and brave, and he feels like a man. He's got a group of sympathetic friends who want to help him in this mission.

He didn't notice their empty fog colored eyes, or the strange way they spoke, without tone or feeling, as if they were cheap puppets in a play.

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