A Case of Frost
Chapter 9: The Nightmare Pit
When Sam and Dean returned to the car, Jack gave them an odd look.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Sam frowned, unsure as to what he meant. "Going to meet the bogeyman, apparently."
"You think you can just drive there?" Jack seemed to find the idea amusing. "Pitch Black doesn't live in some ordinary house in the suburbs."
"So how do we get there?" Dean asked, and Sam wondered.
Jack's grin was mischievous, and just a little bit scary. Sam knew something bad was coming. Then he blinked, and there was a strong gust of wind, and Jack had disappeared.
"What the -" said Dean, turning on the spot and searching, "Where'd he go?"
Sam, on the other hand, was watching the skies. Random patches of snow above powerlines and the corners of buildings marked where Jack had been, but Sam didn't see the boy anywhere. He hadn't realised until then just how fast Jack Frost really was.
"Watch out!"
The shout gave the brothers maybe half a second of warning. And then Jack swept between them, laughing. The sudden wind he brought with him knocked Sam and Dean off their feet, and they fell backwards. Where Sam expected snow, he instead landed on something hard. Jack had dropped two large sheets of old but strong wood beneath the brothers.
"Hold on tight!" he told them, again flashing that mischievous, terrifying grin. Sam automatically did so, gripping the edges of the wood tight. Before he could actually brace himself, though, Jack had swept his staff along the ground in front of them.
Ice sprang up, and the wind strengthened, and Sam and Dean were suddenly moving on their makeshift sleds. There wasn't a gradual build-up, either. One second they were stationary, and the next, with two startled shouts, they were speeding along the ice with the air whipping against them and the street around them blurring. Sam's eyes started stinging, and he had to squint against the force of their speed. To his right, Dean was swearing and shouting, in detail, about exactly how he would kill Jack when they stopped.
Jack, on the contrary, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He kept alternating his movements - sometimes he was skating bare-footed along the ice that magically appeared in front of him, and sometimes he was flying just above their heads, spinning and twirling in the wind like a leaf. His whooping laughter rang in Sam's ears as he sped along with them. Sam was reminded of that time when he was a kid, zooming down a mountain with the Abominable Snowman chasing after him. This time was less life-threatening, he thought, but just as fun. If he could get past the threat of motion-sickness, of course.
"This is a bit boring, don't you think?" said Jack, floating on his back beside Sam and grinning. Then he swept ahead of them again. When Sam saw what he was doing, he thought he might be sick. A few feet in front of them, the ice suddenly curved upwards, and looped in a circle like on a rollercoaster. Jack had to be joking…
"Oh my God," Sam muttered. He squeezed his eyes shut just as they hit the ramp. He felt the world flip around him, but didn't dare look to see. After they made it around, the sheet of wood landed back on the ground with a thump that sent Sam bouncing a few inches into the air.
Jack Frost cheered. The brothers sped on.
They were no longer in the town when they stopped, but Sam didn't think they'd gone much further. It was a clearing in the middle of the woods, bare trees sparse around them and the ground dry where it wasn't covered in snow. The makeshift sled beneath Sam skidded to a stop, and he stood on wobbly legs to look around.
"Now that was more like it!" laughed Jack from his perch on a tree branch.
Dean, who was still seated, shot him a dizzy glare. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he moaned, "And when I'm done, I'm going to shoot you."
"Aw, come on." Jack didn't look at all troubled by the threat. He dropped to the ground and leaned against his stick. "I get it wasn't your gross idea of a fun time, but wasn't that great?"
"No."
"Hm, suit yourself," he said, and then laughed when Dean rolled face-first off the sheet of wood and into the dirty ground.
"Where are we?" asked Sam, who had regained his balance, "Where do we find this Pitch guy?"
Jack flew over to a hole in the ground and pointed into it. "This is the entrance to his hiding place."
Sam and Dean went over and leaned over the edge. It wasn't a large hole, width-wise, but it seemed deep. Sam couldn't see more than a few feet into the darkness.
"You expect us to go down there?" asked Dean.
"Yep."
"How far down is it?" asked Sam. He had to admit, he didn't like the idea of going into the deep blackness any more than his brother.
"Far," Jack replied simply. He floated behind them, so that he could peer over their shoulders, and gestured for them to go in. "After you."
"Are you crazy?" Dean demanded.
Jack smirked and prodded him in the back with his stick. "You scared, Princess?"
That was definitely a challenge. Dean bit.
"Of course not," he said, "But I bet that if we took that stick away, you wouldn't be so brave yourself, Bo Peep."
It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Jack's smirk widened, and then he took hold of the brothers' arms and flung all three of them into the hole.
Sam tried not to panic as he fell. The blackness was crushing. He couldn't see his own hands. All he could do was feel the small hand still on his arm, his brother at his side, and, of course, the rushing wind that pushed against him from all sides. How fast were they falling? How long til they hit the bottom? All he knew for sure was that they were steadily getting deeper and deeper underground.
Then, suddenly, impossibly, their descent slowed. The wind wasn't as harsh anymore. Instead of pushing against them, it seemed to be carrying them, cushioning their fall. Sam sighed in relief, and heard Dean do the same. He couldn't see anything, but he heard Jack Frost's voice very close to his head.
"I've got it all under control. You guys should learn to trust me more."
"After you just pushed us into a deep, dark hole?" asked Dean, "Yeah, no thanks."
Jack's bubbling laughter replied.
They landed with a gentle thud, the wind depositing them in a heap on hard ground. Sam was surprised to find that it somehow wasn't as dark as the tunnel had been. He still had to strain his eyes to see, but amidst the shadows there was a dim light coming from God-knew-where, illuminating colourless walls and floors.
"Through this way," whispered Jack. The paleness of his face, eyes, and hair were easier for Sam to see, like they glowed in the dark. He could also see that the boy seemed much more tense now, and held his stick tightly with both hands in front of him like a weapon. Sam wondered whether this really was a bad idea. But he and Dean followed Jack anyway, careful not to make any sound as they crept along the cave-like walls. It was obvious by the sureness of Jack's movements that he knew exactly where he was going. Had he been there before?
They came out into the open suddenly, and Sam hadn't been expecting it at all. One moment they were in claustrophobic darkness, and the next they were on a kind of balcony overlooking a huge underground chamber. It was a labyrinth of staircases and walkways and bridges. It almost hurt Sam's eyes to make sense of the tangle.
Jack took hold of the brothers' jackets, and jumped with them over to one of the staircases. He lifted their weight easily, despite the vast differences in size. Or perhaps he was just using the wind to carry them. They jumped a couple more times, until they were standing somewhere near the centre of the chamber.
Shadows sprang up around the walls and started circling them menacingly. Jack tensed, looking almost frightened. His reaction made Sam and Dean follow suit, instinctively drawing their guns. They stood back-to-back-to-back, watching the shadows draw closer.
"I thought I heard intruders," said a voice suddenly.
Sam, Dean, and Jack turned instantly to face it. There was a man standing on a balcony above their heads. A tall, thin man, clothed in darkness. He stood straight with his hands behind his back, looking down at them. He wasn't glaring, nor did he look angry. Instead he bared his teeth at his intruders in a twisted sort of smile.
"But I never expected to find this," he continued in a smooth voice. Then he vanished into the shadows and reappeared directly in front of them. "Jack Frost. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Jack stood in front of the brothers, his stick pointed threateningly at the man. "Pitch Black. We have a few questions for you."
Pitch put a hand to his chest mockingly. "I'm truly honoured. Let me guess… This is about the murders up top."
Jack moved his stick so that it was pointing directly at Pitch's chest. Sam followed his aim, his finger resting on the trigger of his gun. Something that put the otherwise constantly cheerful Jack Frost this on edge couldn't be good news.
"How do you know about that?" demanded Jack, "I know it wasn't you."
"No?" Pitch sounded faintly amused.
"You're still too weak. I can tell just looking at you. You're nothing, Pitch."
He did look weak, too. Sam could make out the signs; the dark rings under uncomfortably yellow eyes; the sallow skin; the slightly out-of-breath voice with which he spoke.
"So you thought it was a good idea to come to my home and threaten me?" He was definitely angry now.
"I beat you once, I can do it again," said Jack.
Pitch shook his head, another smile twisting his features. "Oh no, Jack. You're in my domain now." His voice was soft again. "I have the power here."
To prove his point, he raised his hands and the shadows advanced closer. Sam and Dean kept their guns levelled at Pitch, no matter how much they wanted to aim for the writhing darkness.
"I wonder - do the other Guardians know where you are?"
"I'm not afraid of you, Pitch," Jack replied, through gritted teeth by the sound of it. A small blast of ice shot from the hook of his stick to the nearest shadow, which retreated slightly.
"You aren't, perhaps," said Pitch. His golden gaze shifted to Sam and Dean, who held their guns steady. Sam was unsettled by the look, and was sorely tempted to just start shooting then and there.
"But you've brought me fresh meat. The Winchester brothers… Yes, I've heard of you," he added when they jolted, "How could I not? A lifetime of such delicious fear. Thank you, Jack. This is quite a gift you've given me."
Jack moved in a way that made Sam think he was trying to shield them. It seemed so odd; the tiny boy protecting two grown men.
"You leave them alone!"
The tendrils of shadows shifted. Some of them grew and some of them shrank. They were changing shape. Sam and Dean were suddenly faced with the silhouettes of almost every monster they'd ever fought.
"You think that's enough to scare us?" asked Dean, his aim never wavering. Sam nodded in agreement. These were all monsters they'd beaten. Why would they be scared?
Sound joined the shadows. A feral growling and barking, and the heavy footsteps of hundreds of paws. It echoed around them, too close, and Sam swallowed. Hellhounds.
"You're gonna have to try harder than that," said Dean, but the slight tremble of his voice betrayed him.
The sound and shadows died down, to Sam's great surprise, and there was only Pitch left.
"Oh, I will," said the bogeyman, "You've given me so much to work with, after all." He looked back at Jack. "Do you want to know their greatest fears, Jack?"
"Don't do this, Pitch," Jack warned, "We're only here to talk."
"To talk? And you thought it necessary to bring along weapons?" When he didn't get an answer, Pitch smiled. "You just want to talk? Then prove it. Give me your staff, Jack, and then we'll talk."
Jack pulled his stick closer to his small body. He held it protectively, and Sam thought his knuckles looked whiter than usual. "Do you really expect me to fall for that again?"
"Bo Peep's not the one you should be worried about," said Dean, "A stick and a bit of snow? Sam and I, on the other hand… Have you ever been shot before? It might not kill you, but it sure as hell hurts." He and Sam moved forward to stand by Jack, their guns ready. "We're not afraid of the bogeyman."
Pitch laughed. The sound made Sam's blood run cold. "Of course you're not. The Winchester brothers aren't afraid of anything! Except that you are. I know your greatest fear. Both of you. It's being left alone."
Sam froze, and Dean did the same beside him, and Pitch continued talking.
"Everybody dying. Your mother, your father, your women, your friends, your mentor, your angel. Everybody, until you have no one left but each other. And then you won't even have that."
"Shut up!" shouted Sam, his finger tightening on the trigger of his gun. He no longer held it steady, though. His hands were shaking. Dean was even worse off than him; his entire body was trembling like mad.
"Leave them alone!" yelled Jack.
"I'm just having a little fun," said Pitch, "You of all people should understand that, Jack."
"Pitch!" He swung his stick, and ice shot towards the bogeyman. Pitch, however, dodged quickly. Only the hem of his robe was patterned with frost.
"But I almost forgot!" Pitch's voice was taunting. "You and them really aren't all that different after all. All of you, so terrified of being alone."
"I'm not alone anymore!" Jack swung some more ice. But Sam could tell that the boy was being affected just as badly as the him and Dean. The three of them were gasping, the force of their trembling leaving them short of breath.
"Of course. You're a Guardian now," Pitch said, bitterly, "But how long will that last, Jack? They made you a Guardian because you did them a favour. You know they don't really want you."
It was these words that seemed to snap Jack out of his fear. He stood straighter, and the shaking lessened. "I'm not alone," he repeated loudly, "The Man in the Moon chose me. I'm a Guardian and I'm not alone!" Then he glanced at Sam and Dean, and he touched their arms. Sam exhaled at the contact and found the strength to raise his gun again. "And these guys aren't alone either."
That was what they needed. The truth. They weren't alone.
Dean gasped, as though he'd spent the last few minutes holding his breath. Sam felt the same, and as his body relaxed it was like a vice around his chest was releasing its hold.
Pitch looked surprised. "You're growing up, Frost."
Jack's reply was a blast of ice, which encased Pitch's feet and stuck them to the floor. The bogeyman could probably have broken free, had he tried.
"Oh, so now it's 'Frost?'" asked Jack, sounding back to his normal self, "I guess that means our fun really is over. Time to talk, Pitch. What do you know about the Monster Under the Bed?"
"And try to lie to us, we won't hesitate to shoot," added Dean. Unnecessarily, as it turned out. Pitch talked readily enough.
"The Monster Under the Bed," he repeated, "That used to be one of the many names I went by. The Monster Under the Bed, the Monster in the Closet. But soon enough my roles were replaced, and I was merely the ruler of fear instead."
"Why is it here, now?" asked Jack.
"Even after I was replaced, little children continued to think of us as the same being. The Monster didn't generate enough belief of his own to be able to frighten children. But all that changed, Jack, when you and the Guardians defeated me nearly three years ago. Suddenly the bogeyman wasn't real anymore. There was nothing left to block the Monster. Nothing to stop it."
Jack frowned. "Are you saying that this is my fault?"
"Why, Jack. Do I sense a touch of guilt?" Pitch sneered down at the boy, who looked at his own bare feet.
"No," said Sam. There had been too much guilt in his lifetime to allow it to rear up now. "Jack, listen. I don't know what happened a few years ago, but if it meant beating this guy -" He shot Pitch a glare "- I don't think you did anything wrong. Whatever's happening now, don't blame yourself."
"I'm fine," said Jack, "I know we did the right thing." He scowled at Pitch, his hands tightening around his stick. "The Monster. How do we stop it?"
"What makes you think I'll tell you that?"
"I can think of something," said Dean, nodding at his and Sam's guns.
Jack raised a hand to dissuade them from shooting. He moved forward, floating in the air so that he and Pitch were almost nose-to-nose. "If I'm right, this belief thing goes both ways. Doesn't it? While the Monster's around, you can't regain your power. So either you tell us how to stop him, or you spend the rest of eternity wasting away down here, with only your own fear for company."
Sam had to give it to him - the small boy could sound downright threatening when he tried. He held his breath as he waited for Pitch's response.
"We each hold more power in our own domains. You, Jack, in the winter. Myself right here, in the darkness."
"So- so you're saying that the Monster is the same?" asked Jack.
"Figure it out for yourself," said Pitch. The ice around his feet shattered then, and he drew back into the shadows until glinting yellow eyes and sharp teeth were all that Sam could see. "Now leave. And don't bother me again for at least a hundred years."
Even the teeth and eyes vanished at that, and Pitch was gone.
It was harder to get back to the surface than it was to get underground. Jack had his wind help lift them out of the tunnel, but it was slow work. Sam wasn't sure he liked the sensation of rising high into the blackness with only supernatural wind and a small, skinny boy to support him. He was pretty sure, in fact, that he disliked it more than falling into the blackness. Finally, though, they were out of the hole and the crisp, fresh air had never tasted so good.
"Okay," said Jack sheepishly, "So maybe that wasn't my best idea ever."
Sam and Dean scowled at him.
"Going to meet the bogeyman wasn't a great idea," said Dean, "I wonder who could have seen that coming."
"We all got out of it in one piece. And we grew stronger as a team because of it." Jack's words came out almost like a question. Sam shook his head silently in reply, and the boy deflated. "At least we found out what we needed to. We just have to lure the Monster out of his domain and we'll be able to defeat him."
"And how are we going to do that?" asked Dean, "We don't know where its domain is. How are we supposed to draw it out?"
Sam's phone beeped in his pocket, making him jump with the suddenness. He pulled it out and frowned at the screen. Whilst they had been underground, he had missed four calls from a number he didn't recognise. He supposed they had been out of range…
He pressed the call button, and was surprised when someone answered right away.
"Sam? Is that you?" whispered a small voice.
"Jamie?" asked Sam in surprise. That earned him Jack's attention, and a curious look.
"You gave me your number yesterday. I-is Jack with you?" His voice wobbled, as though he was trying not to cry. Sam's heart sank as he automatically imagined the worst.
"Has something happened? Jamie, what's wrong?"
He definitely had Jack's attention now. He was at Sam's side in an instant, and had a cold hand on the fingers that held the phone. "Let me talk to him."
"Hang on," said Sam into the receiver, "I'm going to put you on loudspeaker, okay?"
"O-okay."
He adjusted the settings and held the phone in front of him so that Dean and Jack could join the conversation.
"We're all listening, Jamie," said Sam, "Tell us what's wrong."
"Jack?"
"I'm here, kiddo," Jack assured him. His voice was normal, but Sam could see that his expression was strained. Jack obviously cared about Jamie very much.
"Jack, I'm scared."
"It's okay," said Jack quickly, "Everything's going to be okay. Talk to me, Jamie. What happened?"
"It- Sophie," said Jamie. Sam glanced at the others, and saw that Jack had gone far paler than usual. There was no colour at all in his face. He looked as white as the snow he was famous for.
"Is she alright?" he asked, more urgently now.
"She- she's fine." At Jamie's reassurance, he visibly relaxed. "But, Jack- She told Mom that there's a monster under her bed."
There was silence at that. No one moved even a muscle, as though they had forgotten how. Jack was the first to break the stillness, hugging his stick tight to his chest so that his cheek pressed hard against the wood. His eyes were squeezed shut like he was trying not to cry. It was so much worse than what Pitch had thrown at them.
"What did your mom say?" asked Sam, because it seemed like Jack wasn't able to speak.
There was a moment of hesitation from Jamie, and then, "She said it wasn't real. Now Sophie's telling me that the monster's angry."
Jack's eyes snapped open, and he snatched the phone out of Sam's hand. "Listen to me, Jamie. I know you're scared, but you're going to be alright. I'll be there in five minutes, and we're going to stop this thing."
"Okay," said Jamie's sniffling voice.
"Jamie," said Jack firmly, "I promised you that I wouldn't let the monster hurt you, right? Would I lie to you?" There was a pause in which Sam imagined Jamie shaking his head. "I'll be there soon. Just believe in me and everything will be alright."
A/N: Did everyone get enough of an angst-fix here? With these characters, it's kind of amazing it took me so long.
A few of you were looking forward to the confrontation in this chapter. How did I do? I personally thought that Pitch in the movie was insanely creepy, so I hope I managed to get that through here.
As always, you guys are amazing! I love reading all your feedback. Really, I can't say how much I appreciate every single one of you reviewers/favourit-ers/follows!
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!