I do not own RotG.

Fear has always existed. It lies in your heart, whether you know it or not, whether you notice it or not. It's what fueled wars, sparked conflict, destroyed lives.

And even in this day and age, it exists in many forms. War, hunger, abuse, they are all forms of fear. It is what brings me power. I exist, to instill fear in the hearts of children, and they exist for me to give them something to fear.

I am the one hiding under your bed.

I am the one hiding in your closet.

I am the shadow that flits through your room.

I am fear.

Yet, I am nothing.

For centuries, people have stopped fearing me, stopped believing in me. So for years, I have wandered, empty and powerless. But now, I have another chance, and it started on a cold winter's day. . .

Pitch slipped into the woods, escaping the light of day. This night was relatively uneventful, just a few nightmares here and there, but it was hardly worth it, the nightmares were so weak that the kids didn't even remember them in the morning.

Cursing fluently in an old tongue not spoken for centuries, he wove through the trees with his nightmares at his side. Then he stopped. By a tree nearby, sat a boy. No, a young man, sitting out there with nothing but a t-shirt and jeans on. But that wasn't what had made him stop. The boy's resemblance to a certain winter spirit (Pitch spat at the thought of him) was remarkable.

"Good Morning." He said politely, approaching the boy, who turned his head slowly. Pitch relaxed slightly. This wasn't Jack Frost. The boy before him had pale blond hair and green eyes, completely different from Jack.

"Likewise." The boy mumbled flatly. His eyes were glassy, and he was pale. His words seemed to slur together a bit, and he seemed very disoriented. "Who're you?"

Pitch broke out into a huge smile. "Pitch Black, and you are. . .?"

The boy frowned. "Um. . . A. . . Aaron? Dunno, I don't remember." Pitch looked just as confused as Aaron did, and noticed a shape in the snow beside him. In fact, it looked like a. . .

"You're dead." Pitch said slowly, staring at the frozen corpse in the snow. Curled into a fetal position in the snow was Aaron's body. His hair was coated with frost, and his eyes were closed. A troubled expression remained frozen on his icy face.

"I am?" Aaron said, following Pitch's line of sight. "Oh." He seemed almost surprised at the sight of his body. "How'd that happen?"

"It seems that you froze." Pitch observed. "I'm sorry." For a moment, they said nothing, staring at the body. Pitch's mind was racing all the same, realizing the potential for this frozen boy in the snow. . .

"I'm dead," Aaron said slowly. "but I'm still here. so I'm not dead?"

Pitch groaned inwardly. "You're a lingering spirit, a ghost." ("Oh, that makes sense. . ." Aaron mumbled) "You still have a reason to stay in this world no?"

"I guess. I don't remember." Aaron said tightly, thinking hard.

Pitch smiled kindly. "Well, I could help you regain your memory, and help you pass on."

Aaron stiffened. "What's the catch?" He said cautiously, eyeing Pitch, who laughed on the inside. It seemed that it was now that the boy was taking a good look at who he was talking with.

"I would tell you there's no catch, but that would be telling a lie. You see, I have some. . . enemies that have tried tracking me and hunting me down for years now. I might need your help to get rid of them."

"Can't blame them," Aaron didn't even think before speaking. "You look like a bad guy." Pitch hissed in anger, before regaining his 'kindly' composure.

"I made some mistakes in the past, but yet after all these years, they continue to hound me over a dispute that was resolved. That's not exactly fair now is it?"

"I guess." Aaron looked up, staring at Pitch in the eyes. "I'm in."

Pitch broke out into a toothy grin. "Good choice. Now we should go, I can't stand the sunlight." And with a sweep of his hand, the two of them swirled away into the darkness of the woods.

Aaron's bare feet quietly padded across the stony platform as he neared the covered cage. He heard someone talking, and he hesitated. I shouldn't be here, he thought. Pitch would get mad at me, and he turned around, taking one last glance at the cage.

There was something about that person in the cage that drew him in, but he didn't know what it was. He could only guess that it was something about his previous life and that person that gave him agonizing headaches, but yet. . .

"I must know." he whispered, and crept up to the cage, and held his head awkwardly to the side trying to listen in.

". . .and so it comes to a final, missing piece of the puzzle." Pitch said. "What was he to you?" Aaron stiffened, and leaned in closer.

There was a pause. "It doesn't concern you." She then said defiantly, and suddenly cried out. There was a crash, and a moan. Aaron immediately reached for the cloth and was about to pull it back when he heard the girl give her answer. "He was my boyfriend. Frozen to death on a cold winter's day. He was drunk." At the last word, Aaron's world exploded into a uncontrollable swirl of color and memories.

He woke up with a throbbing head, just barely comprehending all the memories that suddenly crashed into his mind without warning.

"So our friend wakes." A voice crowed. "Sweet dreams?"Aaron's vision cleared, and standing over him was Pitch, smiling broadly. "You heard everything didn't you?"

"I heard enough to remember." Aaron said coldly. "Where is _?"

"Still in the same place." Pitch gestured to the cage. "Where else- oh dear." He said lightly, and grabbed Aaron's hood as he scrambled towards the velvet covered cage. "I'm sorry, you can't see her right now."

"Let go!" Aaron lunged at the cage again in a desperate attempt to get to _, "Why can't I see her!?"

"Things seem to be moving far faster than I had anticipated, so I must act now." Dragging Aaron to the cage, he tore the black cloth aside and there, laying in the center of the cage was _.

The cage floor was covered with a fine layer of black sand, circling around _ with letters of a strange language written on the outside. Lines crossed through the circle, forming a pentagon and in the center, laying over a black four pointed star was _.

She was perfectly still, staring at the ceiling with blank, unseeing eyes. "Endless songs. . . dance. . . pain. . . the queen. . . drink. . . temptation. . ." She muttered listlessly as her hand twitched. "Oh thank goodness. . . broken. . . Nooooooooo. . ." Without warning, she shuddered into a series of spasms before going still and resuming her original position with her arms at her sides and her legs together. "Greed. . . Envy. . . Pride. . . drink. . . cold. . ." She continued to mutter.

"What's happening!?" Aaron smashed himself against the bars of the cage, running his fingers over the bars, searching in vain for a doorway. "What are you doing!?"

"Well." Pitch leaned against a Nightmare that appeared at his side. "It's more than obvious now that she's your key to passing on. But I've put too much time into you to let you go that easily. So I'll make it simple." His eyes glowed, and the sand glowed before _ started the thrash wildly. Her pupils grew enormous, and she started to babble like a madman as tear streamed down her cheeks from her huge open eyes.

"You talk to her, and I will fill her mind with the her deepest darkest nightmares until she breaks." Pitch hissed at the last word, and smiled. "So what will it be Aaron?"

AN: So. I'm still alive. I know it took me a while to put this chapter up, but school was being a jerk by dumping assignments on me like there's no tomorrow so yeah. My wimpy excuse in a nutshell.
Disclaimer(since I haven't put one up): RotG belongs to dreamworks and the person who wrote the original series. (c)