It's a lonely thing to be the new kid. It's a terrifying thing to be stuck living with strangers. It's a shocking thing to suddenly lose your parents. Is it any wonder that a child who was put through these things would push people away? No, but neither is it surprising that people would let him.

Technically speaking, Pitch met Jack on November 14, 2005, the 50th day of their fifth grade year, but the boy Pitch met that day could hardly be called Jack Frost. The young albino had only just lost his parents and their deaths were a gaping wound in his soul that had left him little more than a shell of his true self.

To most of his new classmates, Jack was a strange looking kid with sad, blue eyes who seemed to push everyone away. Maybe things would have been different had they known Jack's past, but they didn't. All they saw was the person Jack's losses had forged him into, the loner who seemed to hate everyone and who certainly didn't want friends, so no one tried to break through the icy walls around his fragile heart. No one, that is, but Pitch.

The pain in Jack's eyes drew Pitch to him like a moth to a flame and, for the first time the ebony-haired lad could remember, he actually wanted to be friends with someone. Making friends with Jack Frost wasn't easy, though. It took months of trying, of walking Jack home when the albino refused to take the bus, of talking to Jack without getting more than a grunt in reply, of always being Jack's partner when no one else wanted to be, but in the end, Pitch met his goal.

On a sunny January afternoon, when Pitch had once again followed Jack as he walked home from school, Jack finally broke. He'd told Pitch everything. How he'd lost his parents. How, just that weekend, he'd given up the hope of ever seeing his baby brother and sister again. How he hated this new town. How he wished he'd died in the fire that had stolen away his world and how he could barely sleep due to the nightmares that constantly filled his dreams. It was the first time Pitch had ever seen such raw pain and the sight filled him with a feeling he'd never felt before: elation. Even as a child, Jack was stunningly beautiful when broken.

Elation wasn't the only thing Pitch felt, though. Another feeling was swirling about inside: accomplishment. After all, if it weren't for his prodding, Jack wouldn't be the sobbing mess before him. As he absentmindedly patted Jack's back and repeated the words his mother always used to say when Pitch was upset, the dark haired child began to wonder how he could tap into this pain. Was it possible to reduce Jack to this state whenever he wanted to?

Pitch soon learned the answer to that question: no. The only reason his tactics had worked so well was that Jack had just suffered the loss of his siblings. The day he realized this was the day Pitch Black came to understand a simple truth: to break a person, you needed to mess with their heart.

One other thing changed on that fateful day, Jack accepted his place as Pitch's first and only friend. It turned out that, in spite of Jack's cold persona, he was desperate to belong. Pitch was more than happy to make his new friend feel wanted, too. Jack was someone to listen to his brilliant plans, praise them, and then help carry them out. He was also someone to take the blame when things went wrong. All Pitch had to do was suggest a bit of mischief and Jack was willing to lend a hand to make his friend happy. On the rare occasion when Jack didn't like Pitch's ideas, the crafty boy would say just the right words to play with Jack's heart and Jack would be putty in his hands.

Over time, pieces of Jack's playful nature returned as the wounds left by the loss of his family began to heal. Though people still thought of him as a loner, they began to associate him with pranks instead of hatred, but the damage was already done. People were afraid of Pitch and, wherever Jack went, Pitch's dark shadow was sure to follow, keeping Jack alone and friendless. This, in turn, kept Jack wrapped around Pitch's fingers, desperate to make sure that he didn't lose his only friend. If it hadn't been for that desperation, Pitch would never have been able to secure Jack's help with sabotaging the Christmas benefit.

Pitch went too far, though, and enough of Jack's true nature had resurfaced for the snowy-haired teen to allow Pitch's plan to succeed…

"Are you sure about this?" Jack asked as he grabbed onto the edge of the wooden snowman.

Pitch rolled his eyes and smirked at his worried looking friend. "Relax. It's just a little prank, that's all."

Then he grabbed onto the other side of the snowman and lifted it into the air. Together, the two teens began to carry the prop out of the dark auditorium. As they walked, Jack said, "I'm just worried that we're gonna get in trouble, that's all."

"Since when did you start caring about getting into trouble?"

Jack stopped walking and Pitch hit into the edge of the snowman with a loud "oomph!"

"There's a big different between getting detention for playing some harmless pranks and what happens if you're caught stealing the props for the Christmas benefit!"

"We're not stealing them! We're just going to borrow them long enough to make Aster and those other do gooders freak out, then we'll "find them" in the woods and be the hero."

"Right…" Jack fell silent, but didn't start moving. Pitch sighed, more than a little annoyed. Jack had never been so hard to convince before!

"Okay, what's wrong?"

"You're gonna think it's really stupid."

Undoubtedly. "Come on, Jack. Something's obviously bothering you."

Jack began drumming his fingers against the snowman and a faint blush colored his cheeks as he explained. "It's just… Pippa's choir had its Christmas concert last weekend and they used props like these. I feel like I'm playing a prank on my baby sister."

This ever growing conscious of his is really starting to get annoying. Pitch thought for a moment, deciding what tactic to use, and then spoke. "Don't think about how upset she'd be when the props went missing; think about how happy she'd be when the props were found! Besides, think of how much fun it'll be to watch Aster freak out."

It wasn't his best line ever, but it seemed to do the trick since Jack started moving again as he muttered the words, "Forget it, I'm being an idiot. Let's just get this over with."

Soon, the duo had loaded all the props they could fit into Pitch's mother's car and were on their way out into the woods to hide them, or at least that's what Jack thought they were doing. Pitch hadn't told Jack the whole plan for that night…

Jack set down his end of the prop and glanced back at the car. In the dim light he could see that this had been the final prop, which meant that his part in this stupid plan was over. Now he could go home and pretend this had never happened. He turned back to face Pitch and his eyes widened in shock when he saw the object in his friend's hand. "What are you doing?"

Pitch flicked the lighter, igniting a small fire at its tip. "You know, it's a little cold out tonight. What do you say to a good, ol' fashion bonfire?"

Jack's heart began to race at the sight of the open flame, but he kept his voice stead when he replied, "Pitch, this isn't funny anymore. Put that thing away."

"Oh, come on Jack, this is the only way we stay out of trouble. I've been thinking and you're right about this being a much bigger deal than a little prank."

Jack didn't reply, in fact he was barely even listening, too busy staring at the fire in Pitch's hand. Pitch didn't realize the reason for Jack's silence and thought his words were swaying his friend, so he continued. "If we get caught this could mean expulsion. Even if we took the props back now it's too late. The school is locked and we closed the door we propped open, so we'd have to wait until morning and do you really think they'll believe that we just found them? The only way to stay out of trouble is to remove the evidence."

Jack remained silent as his breath began to grow harsh and jagged, but it was too dark for Pitch to see the albino's odd reaction. Believing that Jack had been swayed, Pitch leaned down to light fire to the wooden snowman on the top of the pile. As the edge of the snowman began to blacken, something snapped inside of Jack and he dashed forward, tackling Pitch and knocking him to the ground. The lighter went flying into the night and, with its source gone, the fire died out after only charring the snowman and the surface of backdrop under it. Enraged, Pitch lashed out at his so-called friend and soon the two boys were rolling across the ground in a massive fight.

They fought until the commotion drew the attention of a nearby group of late night hikers. When these adults arrived at the scene and saw the damage, they pulled the duo apart and kept them there until the authorities had been called. Pitch had been blamed for orchestrating the plan, but Jack had received equal punishment for helping.

Neither boy told anyone that Jack had stopped the fire and the details of the event were so hazy that only a chosen few even knew that a fight had occurred. It was assumed by everyone that the duo just hadn't started the fire well enough for it to take and the hikers were credited with the fact that the boys didn't have time to try again.

Everyone, that is, except for Manfred Moon, Jack's social worker and English teacher. When he heard about the fight, a different picture of the evening began to form in his mind, but he kept the speculation to himself. Jack's reputation was far too tarnished for anyone by a chosen few to believe what Mr. Moon suspected was the truth.

Then something unexpected happened. The boys stopped talking. Jack was furious with Pitch and, instead of putting in the effort to win back Jack's trust, Pitch allowed his friend to be alone. He figured that, after spending several months totally friendless, Jack would come crawling back to where he belonged: at Pitch's side. It might have worked, had Mr. Moon not seen his one chance to save Jack and taken it.

By the time Pitch realized what was happening, it was too late. Jack had friends. Friends who were feeding the light in Jack's heart and destroying all of Pitch's hard work and so he'd watched, waiting for a chance to reclaim what was his. He'd watched as Nick taught Jack about woodworking at lunch time. He'd watched as Ana and Jack laughed together while walking to class. He'd watched as Sandy made Jack smile at some unspoken joke. He'd even watched the traitor messing about in the snow with Aster Wilder. It made Pitch want to scream. Jack was his. His broken little toy to do with as he pleased, but Jack wasn't going to be broken for much longer if Pitch didn't do something, so he stopped waiting for a chance. Pitch was going to take his property back and break it so hard that nothing could ever put the pieces back.

Snowflakes gently fell from the sky as Jack walked along the snowy streets of Narvon, just enjoying the glory of his favorite season and allowing the calming sight of the snow to take his mind off the date. It was October 21st, seven years to the day since he lost his parents. Jack smiled, a true first for him. He never smiled on October 21st. Normally, he just hid in his room and tried to sleep through the day, but not this year. This year he was finally letting himself remember and, for once, it wasn't with shame. For the first time since he'd lost his family, Jack felt like he was making them proud.

Suddenly, his phone began buzzing in his pocket, interrupting his reminiscing. Jack pulled the plastic device out and glanced at the screen, wondering who it was. The number was unfamiliar, but he recognized the area code: Burgess. Curiosity filled his veins as he answered the phone with a puzzled, "Hello?"

"Hi, Jack?"

He recognized the voice immediately, even if it sounded like the man had a slight cold, and the sound filled him with dread. Mr. Bennett only called when something major happened, like the time Pippa had broken her arm. "What's wrong? Are they okay?"

"Everything's fine," was the quick reply, but then the man continued on, "I actually wanted to ask a favor of you."

Jack was thoroughly confused now, the Bennetts had never asked him for a favor before. "Yes?"

"Well, I'm sure I don't need to tell you what today is and, well, we've decided that the twins are old enough to learn the truth about their family." Jack almost dropped the phone, but he somehow managed to maintain his grip as the words, "And we wanted to ask you to be there" came out of the tiny speaker by his ear.

The line went silent, but Jack didn't say a word, too shocked to speak.

"Jack, are you still there?"

This time the teen managed squeaked out a trembling, "Yes."

"I know this is terribly last minute, but it took a while for Mrs. Bennett to agree to invite you. It took a while for her to even agree to tell them, actually. We're going to the grave site in a couple of hours and we'll understand if you don't want to be there, but we'd love it if you'd come."

The suggestion of missing out on seeing his siblings, really seeing them, for the first time was enough to wake Jack from his stupor and he quick replied, "No, no, I'll be there. Thank you, Mr. Bennett."

"No, thank you, Jack. We know these past few years must have been hard on you and it's time we started to make things right."

Jack almost cried at these words, but he kept himself under control. There was no way he was going to be anything but happy the first time Jamie and Pippa saw him if he had any say in the matter. After bidding Mr. Bennett a hasty goodbye, he shoved his phone into his pocket and rushed towards the bus stop. The next bus to Burgess would be leaving soon and Jack had to be on it.

He was so excited that he didn't even think to tell the Overlands that he was leaving town or pause to wonder how the Bennetts had gotten ahold of his cell phone number.

The Bennetts didn't come, though, and now Jack's whole body felt frozen. He'd been waiting in the snow by his parent's tombs for well over three hours and he was finally starting to give up his last spark of hope. As he traced a finger along the marble surface of his mother's gravestone, he gave it a shaky smile. This was the one day of the year he avoided this place. He'd tried to come once, on the one year anniversary, but had vowed to never try again when the worst nightmare he'd had in months came to him that night.

A shiver ran through his body and his teeth began to chatter as he whispered the words, "Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Dad. Here I am visiting and I didn't even bring flowers. Don't worry, though, I'll bring extra on Mom's birthday."

"Jack?"

Jack jumped slightly at the unexpected noise and turned his gaze from the grave into the worried eyes of Pitch Black. "Pitch? What are you doing here?"

The other teen seemed embarrassed and motioned to the flowers in his hand, an enormous bouquet of roses and baby's breath. "I was in Burgess to do some shopping and I had some free time, so I thought I'd swing by and leave these. I didn't think you'd be here what with this being the day that, well, you know..."

Jack stared at the flowers and then burst into tears.

Pitch almost cooed in delight, it was just too easy to manipulate Jack's emotions on the 21st. Instead, he kept his excitement in check and he knelt down, wrapping the crying teen in a fierce hug. "Jack, what's wrong?"

Somehow Jack managed to choke out the details of what had happened as sobs began to shake his thin body.

When he finished the story, Pitch let out a gasp of horror and held him close. "Jack, I don't know what to say. Those horrible people! When will they stop hurting you like this?"

Jack just cried harder, clinging to Pitch with all his might.

Pitch gently rubbed the smaller boys back for a few moments and then rose from the ground, pulling Jack with him as he said, "Come on, I'll take you home."

Jack merely nodded, too busy fighting back another round of sobs to speak, and allowed Pitch to lead him to the parking lot where the amber eyed teen's motorcycle was waiting.

Pitch got on first and strapped on his helmet before helping Jack climb on behind him. The broken teen was too busy crying to even think about the fact that he didn't have his own helmet as Pitch took off into the growing darkness.

Jack clutched the back of Pitch's leather jacket, sobbing, as the two sped along the snowy highway. How could the Bennetts do this to him? It didn't make any sense. He'd done nothing to them. Was it because they were sick of Jack coming to see the twins? Had the Bennetts grown tired of the constant reminder of the past dampening their enjoyment of their children's achievements? He always tried to make sure the Bennetts didn't see him when he came, but maybe he hadn't tried hard enough.

Another sob coursed through his body as he felt the motorcycle starting to slow down. He'd been so busy crying he hadn't even opened his eyes on the ride home, but now he needed to stop. He couldn't let the Overlands see him like this.

By the time Pitch stopped the bike, Jack had managed to calm his sobs enough that he was pretty sure he could walk without collapsing into a blubbering mess and so he got off the bike, ready to thank Pitch and walk inside, but his thanks died on his lips when he saw where they were. They weren't at the Overlands. They were stopped on a back road in the middle of a snow-covered forest.

He looked around in confusion as the last few tears streaked down his face and asked, "Where are we, Pitch?"

The older boy snickered. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Jack spun towards Pitch, anger abruptly surging through him, and was met by a strong blow to the head. Darkness immediately consumed him and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Pitch threw his helmet onto the snow covered earth with an amused chuckle as he turned off his bike. It looked like the thing that kept your head safe was also a great instrument to apply a little blunt-force trauma. Now, what to do with Jack?

He got off the bike and studied the smaller teen's crumpled form. Jack was wearing a thick winter coat, but little else that would keep him warm in the icy air, and his face was covered in frozen trails of salty liquid. A few drops were even clinging to his eyelashes. A good size bump was probably forming under the snowy hair, too, but nothing was visible yet.

Pitch was proud of his work so far, but he knew that he needed to move Jack away from the road to somewhere where the albino was less likely to be found and he needed to do it before someone came along. This road wasn't well traveled, but that didn't mean it was abandoned.

With these thoughts in mind, Pitch grabbed his former friend's legs and began to drag him along, searching for a good spot, until they reached the edge of a frozen lake. A quick tug and Jack was on the ice. Pitch grinned and gave the limp form a final push, so that it was resting in the middle of the lake. Then Pitch went back to his bike and grabbed some old strips of cloth. Soon, Jack's body was immobilized and an oil-stained rag was wrapped tightly around his frozen lips.

Pitch looked down at his work and began to laugh. This would teach the fool to abandon him. In a day or two, Pitch would come back and take the nearly dead Jack to the hospital with some sob story about finding him while on a late night ride. He doubted his once friend would actually remember what had happened with how deep into the onset of hypothermia he'd be by then. Even if he did, it would be seen as the mad ravings of a delirious victim, mistaking his savior for his assailant. Jack would recover physically, but Pitch doubted his spirit would ever be the same.