Snakebite.

Ch. 11

Pairing: Naga!Pitch/Tooth (Cavity)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T (for swearing and minor sexual content)

~S~

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

A week went by after Pitch and Tooth's rather odd encounter, and both were left to the mundane ebb and flow of a routine. Tooth would bring breakfast, lunch, and dinner down with her and Pitch – all mostly consisting of the lighter varieties, and Pitch's requested dishes. He was slowly building a healthier appetite and starting to eat more, much to Tooth's relief. Though he still ate little, and left most of everything Tooth brought on his plate, it was progress to her.

What wasn't progress though, was her scale polishing. She has been polishing Pitch's scale every night for the entire week, and yet no progress seemed to be made on it. She even tried various polishes; from oils, to metal shiners, and even diamond polish – nothing made the dull scale shine. It made Tooth wonder if Pitch was still willing to let her in…

Sitting up in her room, the fairy queen regarded the small scale in the palm of her hands, at a loss. Her hands ached from the constant rubbing over it, and the rag she was using was becoming worn and threadbare. And yet, no stains were left on it from the blackness covering the scale – a sure sign of just how little progress she was making.

She sighed, "Why is this so difficult? Why is he so damn difficult?" she muttered.

Maybe she needed advice – at least, this is what she thought moments ago before she realized she had no way of explaining her situation to any of her friends. What could she say? Hey, I've been keeping Pitch virtually hostage in my home for the past two weeks or so, and I'm at a loss on how to befriend him – any ideas? She had a better chance of yanking out one of Jack's teeth…

Speaking of which…

"Hey Tooth!" called a familiar voice.

Tooth startled, feathers perked up in alertness. Quickly hiding the scale under her pillow, she got up and flitted out her door and into the busy aerial traffic of hardworking fairies. And out on the main plateau, Tooth spotted a familiar speck of blue and white chatting animatedly with Baby-Tooth.

Out of sight from the two, Tooth bit her lip. Great, Jack was here. Why? Did the others send him to check up on her again? He hasn't seen her yet, and he wasn't acting like there was a big emergency going on. Maybe he just stopped by for a visit…

"There you are!" gasping, Tooth looked up as the thought of frost sprite caught a current of wind and glided over to her. She had been so distracted that she hadn't noticed some of her fairies pointing her out.

"Hey Tooth! Where you been all this time?" Jack chirped, landing on a jutting spire in font of Tooth.

"Uh…" how eloquent. She was speechless; again, "I was, uh…"

"Working hard as usual?" Jack teased with a cocked brow.

"Yes!" Tooth blurted, seeming to regain herself a bit, "Yes, yes, I was – I mean, have been. It's uh…been a crazy year it seems. For teeth, I mean."

"Geez, no kidding. Seriously, you should have seen this kids wrestling match I saw yesterday! It was insane, I thought they were going to lose all their teeth and-"

Tooth seemed to zone out, withdrawing into her own head unintentionally as Jack yammered on about something. It was odd; normally she was so attentive when it came to Jack – or rather, his mouth. But somehow, all she could really think about now was Pitch. What had she gotten herself into? She was at one point almost dead set on making this work, but now she was wondering if there was even any point to it.

Did Pitch even have any friends? A part of her was optimistic and reasoned other dark spirits maybe liked him. But on the other hand, she was doubtful – people could like someone, but that person just may not want friends. Pitch was definitely a loner type to her. He wasn't so much on the mean or rude spectrum, but rather the kind of person who would use methods to push people away; either because it was all he knew, or he simply didn't want people close to him. Though why, she wasn't sure. Maybe he was scared, or maybe he just was not used to being treated like…well, like a person…

'Oh Pitch…' and now she was in a somewhat committed bargain that could end with either one of them kissing their sanity right on the ass goodbye.

"Tooth? Hey? Did you hear me?"

Startled from her resolve, Tooth turned wide amethyst eyes to a concerned looking Jack. Somehow during the one-sided conversation, Baby-Tooth had joined them and was perched comfortably on Jack's shoulder, both giving her concerned looks.

"Oh! Uh, I'm sorry, what now? I uh, kind of zoned out…" Tooth said lamely.

Baby-Tooth rolled her eyes, while Jack quirked a curious brow at her.

"You said Pitch's name a minute ago." He elaborated.

Blinking, it took a moment for Jack's words to sink in. And when they did, she wanted to hit herself. Was she so spaced out in her own mind that she didn't even notice she said the name of the Guardians' number one enemy? By the way Baby-Tooth was looking at her, the answer was yes. And it was infuriating…

"Um, r-right, Pitch, um…" she faltered, unable to come up with an excuse. She was a terrible liar too. It was this reason alone she never attended the boys' poker night due to her lack of a poker face. Well, that and Sandy cheated. Little bastard…

A light bulb suddenly went off in her head, and she regarded Jack critically. From what she gathered, Jack was one of the few Guardians who felt sympathy for Pitch. He was also the only one to have a real one on one confrontation with him, and to get a small bit of insight on the Boogeyman – well as close to an honest confrontation with him as one could get. It took him a while, but he eventually did tell them about their encounter in Antarctica, and it left them all with mixed feelings – mostly outrage at the man hurting Jack, and relief for Jack turning down his offer to team up.

But not long after that, he eventually started talking about Pitch to her and Sandy – only the two because he didn't want North getting any wrong ideas, and Bunny was just a bad choice to get things off your chest to. And from what she gathered, he did not hold the same resentment the others held for Pitch. She couldn't say he liked him, but he felt for him all the same…

"Tooth…?" Jack asked carefully, noticing her odd stare.

Blinking, Tooth shook herself from her stupor, deftly landing on the spire to sit across from Jack. Folding her hands on her lap, she looked up at the frost sprite and spoke in a slightly nervous and meek tone.

"Jack, what do you think of Pitch?" she asked.

The frost sprite seemed rather stunned – a terrible word to describe the utterly bewildered and startled expression on his face. He slowly blinked owlishly. He was having a shocking amount of trouble comprehending her words and their meaning. What did he think of Pitch? Where did this even come from?

Maybe he should open his mouth and ask instead of just dumbly stewing in it…

"Why…erm, what do you mean?" he asked meticulously.

Tooth bit her lip, suddenly unsure. Well, she already said it, she might as well elaborate…subtly. Like hell she was going to actually tell him what was going on in her home. Jack may be a good friend, but with something like this, he would not hesitate to fly off and tell the others about anything having to do with Pitch. She had to play her cards carefully and meticulously.

"I mean…" she paused, trying to find the right words, "It's just that, I've been thinking about, well, how he's our enemy…"

"Okay…" Jack nodded slowly, still quite lost. Tooth cleared her throat.

"I mean, even before you came along, the Guardians and I have always been fighting him," she continued – she was slowly building confidence as a proper explanation started to form in her head, "And it's always the same – we fight, someone is usually in danger, we win, he goes to stew up a new plan, and it all repeats after maybe a few centuries."

Again, Jack nods, but he seems contemplative, as if he was catching onto what Tooth was trying to say. She mentally sent Bunny a snarky comment on how he always thought of the sprite as a 'brainless show-pony'.

"And it's…it's just getting old – and he's getting bolder. You remember how he stole my fairies…"

A scowl creased Jack's brow, nearly perfectly matching Baby-Tooth's. Somehow she had restrained herself from coming into the conversation, which Tooth was thankful for, but it showed how displeased she was with the whole thing.

"I mean, and it's not like he wasn't already offered a Guardianship, but-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," Jack interrupted, holding his hands up. He gave Tooth a critical look, brows raised in shock, "Pitch was offered to be a Guardian?"

Tooth blinked, taken aback, "We never mentioned it?"

"Uh, no. I think I would remember if you told me our worst enemy had been offered a Guardianship of all things. When was this?" Jack leaned forward in anticipation, curious about this new information. Oh the trials of being a teenage spirit…

"Um…well, it happened centuries ago, when Santoff Clausen was just being built actually," Tooth said, before creasing her brows thoughtfully, "I think it was somewhere around the 15th century or so, maybe further back…"

"But…he's the Nightmare King," Jack said, "Why would the Moon make him a Guardian?"

Tooth herself had asked that same question, despite her willingness to give him a chance. But at the same time, she wasn't too certain of the Moon's logic – or lack thereof – in making Pitch of all people a Guardian. He just didn't have that…thing…that made herself and the others Guardians. He had fear, darkness, and malice in place of their dreams, wonder, and hope. Add to that, he and Sandy had had a huge falling out during that time, and he was quite opposed to the matter. Bunny had kept himself completely out of the conversation for the sole reason that he was sure it was not going to work out – that and North was afraid he was going to attack the dark man; the Pooka stayed in his Warren during the encounter, and later gloated for five hundred years on how he was right about the whole thing.

Tooth smoothed a few feathers on her thigh, regarding Jack helplessly, "I honestly don't know, Jack. Part of me thinks he could have done something good for the world, but the others just…well, they were thinking what you're thinking. He's the Nightmare King, what could he do to make kids happy? But I guess that's not what North or the Moon saw."

"North? He actually agreed to it?" Jack asked, disbelieving.

"This happened ages ago, things were not as tense between us back then," Tooth explained with a shrug, "And yes, he did. Like he is now, he believes in second chances and redemption. He believes everyone has the power to change themselves for the better. It just takes the right amount of strength and courage to do so – or so he says. But he agreed with Manny, and strove to get Pitch on our side. But…"

"But…?" Jack probed, virtually on the edge of his seat. Tooth smiled; she would always hold a soft spot for Jack's childlike eagerness.

But it fell into something more rueful, "They had words, and somewhere in there, Pitch heard something he did not want to hear. He got very upset, rejected the offer, and stormed out. We wouldn't see him for almost a thousand years after that, and when we did…we noticed a change in him."

"I'm guessing it wasn't a good one…" Jack said. Tooth shook her head.

"No. He seemed…well, I'll say this. Back then, Pitch was…well, almost a bit like you in his attitude."

"What?" Jack rasped, Baby-Tooth puffing up in aggravation.

"Not like you in that way! I mean, he was…more free, I suppose," She explained, "He was mischievous, malicious in a morbidly humorous way, and usually laughed things off with a cool wave of the hand and a plan for some minor revenge later. He was just…he wasn't like he is today. Now, you know him as this cold, cruel, and angry thing, right?"

"Not to mention insane…"

"Well, maybe, but my point is, is that I think something happened to him to make him how he is now," Tooth said, "Before, yes, we would fight, but it was never as vicious as today. Our last battle was almost the absolute worst we've seen him. At first he was just an annoyance and something we could forgive and forget later…"

"But now he's just the type of person you just want to forget…?" Jack asked carefully. Again, Tooth nods.

"It's hard to explain, but during the time he was gone, we actually worried for him. But then one day he shows up in a small town in London, and he was absolutely mad. People were scared for no reason now, people were going insane in their own fears, fighting and running from things not there, they were even scared of spirits like us…"

She shook her head sadly, "We got into a fight – a real fight. We tried to reason with him, to bring him to some sense of stability – I even tried to get to him by bringing up that boy…"

"Boy? What boy?" Jack asked.

Tooth paused.

"Pitch…he was seen and followed by a little boy many, many centuries ago. He was a poor boy, no home, no money, no family…back then, people saw many things as a sign of evil. Cleft-lips were one, and he was unfortunate to be born with the deformity. But he saw Pitch and they just…I won't say became friends, but they had something between them. But…as fear increased, and the line between logic and fear began to blur…" she shook her head, eyes watering.

"What happened?" Jack probed, though he had a suspicion. He just wanted Tooth to deny it.

She looked up at him mournfully, her hands clenching together, as if in the phantom remembrance of something she once held in her hands that was no longer there.

"He was killed," she said softly, "Murdered after being accused of witch craft. He was just a boy. We didn't even know his name – he didn't have one as far as we knew. And when I told Pitch he was gone…he laughed."

That laugh – that cruel, heartless, hysterical cackle would always be imprinted onto Tooth's very mind for the rest of her life. It always left her with chills, and a broken heart. For how could anyone find the death of a child funny? How could he have said such things about that boy? A boy who believed in the Boogeyman and followed the shade for such a long time? How could he have just turned his back on someone who believed so hard in him, who saw him as a guide – a protector?

"…and then what?" Jack asked, oddly calm.

She sighed, "I got so angry. We all did. And we attacked him. We held nothing back this time. All thoughts of forgiveness were gone…and he fell."

Jack nodded, wide eyes still locked onto Tooth, as if he expected more. And so Tooth continued.

"He was so weakened, he was a literal shadow of his former self. And I think that's when he really broke. He was desolate, but still fought to spread fear no matter what. We wouldn't see him for a few more centuries, around the Great Depression. But by then, it wasn't a fight, just a few sightings of him here and there, causing only minor problems; fear of rats, fear of getting lost, fear of disease…and whenever he'd spot us, he'd vanish. We thought…we sometimes thought it was a ghost. Never had Pitch run from us up until then. He would just vanish into the shadows, and there would be years, decades, put between each sighting, until we stopped seeing him altogether. We thought he was truly gone once the Dark Ages went out…"

"And by gone, you mean…?"

Hesitantly, Tooth nodded, "Stories of the Boogeyman became just that; stories. Remains from long forgotten lore and past memories. The very bones of a dead spirit. And we…"

'We didn't even mourn him…' she thought, suddenly feeling sick.

"We moved on," She said instead, stonily, "Then the Nightmare War happened. You know the rest."

Jack nodded, breaking his eyes off Tooth to stare down at his crossed legs. It was silent for a good few minutes, neither speaking – they did not know what to say. What could they say? Tooth herself was wondering just that, and asking herself just why she and the others had forgotten so easily. How could they so easily just move on with the thought that a fellow spirit was possibly dead and forgotten? How could they just forsake him like that? Pitch was a fighter, but knew when he had to flee. But recently, his own morals have been erased. He no longer was a true shadow king. That fire was long since gone, and she helped the others extinguish it…

"Fight of flight!"

Did they have a choice in the matter? Technically, yes, they did. They could have chosen to either let him continue to do what he was doing and watch as the world and humanity slowly collapsed in one itself. Or they could have fought. She tried to reason with him; she tried.

But did she try hard enough…?

"I think he's lonely…"

Tooth looked up at Jack, surprised at his sudden words, "What?"

Jack shrugged, not looking at Tooth. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his chin resting on the knobby caps. His bony toes curled against the golden floor, his eyes distant.

"I mean, I kind of get it…" he said, "Forever's kind of a long time to be alone and resented for something you just do without real explanation. Not everyone likes winter, but it still happens, and enough people like it…"

Bunnymund suddenly came to Tooth's mind. He was not a winter person; he was a spring and summer kind of spirit. Warm weather, light rain showers on occasion, flowers, sunshine, life. He did not like the calm and chilled silence of winter. To him, the slow and silent season of winter felt hopeless, whereas the lively, loud, and colorful seasons of summer and spring gave him life and hope. It was such an odd contrast if she were honest. Jack was anything but calm or quiet, and Bunny was anything but loud and full of sunshine.

Pitch though…while not everyone liked the cold, no one liked being afraid. Not for others, and not for themselves. Safety and calm were what people strove for in life. Occasional scares and excitement were a part of life, but no one liked to have it for long periods of time. And certainly no one liked nightmares so dark and crushing as the ones Pitch spread. The kind of nightmares that have even adults waking up in tears and wanting to hide under the covers of their bed.

Pitch was an embodiment of something resented and loathed. What kind of existence was that, Tooth wondered. To be hated for being born, for simply being.

"Hey Tooth…?" Jack started meekly.

"Yes?"

"Do you…" Jack paused, uncertainty flitting across his face, as well as a twinge of fear. Tooth had to wonder if Pitch could sense it from where they sat, and knew of Jack's arrival. It wouldn't surprise her; she was just glad he couldn't get out of the ravine.

"Do you think…if given enough time, if I were still left alone…would I end up just like Pitch?" Jack asked.

Vertigo nearly toppled Tooth as Jack's words sunk in. She barely caught herself by bunching her hands over a cluster of feathers on her thighs, the pain bringing her back from her resolve.

"I…what do you mean?" was all she could ask. She was too stunned to come up with much else.

"I mean, Pitch is like he is because he's…well, he's nuts, but also because people just didn't like him and didn't see him," Jack explained, "And he resented you guys for getting all this power and belief, while he's left to some scraps of it. I mean, I'll admit, for a while I resented you guys too for being seen while I was just a ghost to the world…"

The admission nearly sent Tooth reeling once more, but it also sent a pang into her heart. The other Guardians never did fully forgive themselves for being so ignorant of Jack – of other spirits for that matter. They were working on improving their attitudes, and it was slow progress, but as long as Jack was proud of the effort, they would live with it.

"What I'm trying to say is, is if you all just kind of left me to my own for a few more centuries…do you think I'd become like Pitch? Angry, cynical, just evil?" he asked.

'How do I respond to this?' was Tooth's immediate thought.

And really, how did she? She could not predict events that could or would have been. And even if she could, she wasn't sure if she would willingly tell Jack if the results were anything but good. She could just imagine it; a hateful, spiteful Jack with a heart of solid ice, just as vengeful and hell-bent as Pitch. She could shockingly see a clear image of the two working together to bring her and the Guardians down; cold and dark, as one, ridding the world of the light.

She shuddered. How she could even see it so easily baffled her. Was she so distrustful of Jack? Of Pitch? Granted, Pitch wasn't exactly a trustworthy saint, but still. She wanted to fix that. And if she couldn't even put a smidge of faith in Jack, what hope did she have of doing the same with Pitch?

'What is happening to me…?' she wondered dazedly. She couldn't recall a time she ever thought so deeply about something that didn't have to do with teeth. It was giving her a headache. And heartache…

"Jack…" She started. She reached over and took his hands in hers. She looked him dead in the eyes…

"I honestly can't see you being like Pitch in any way, shape, or form, no matter what happens to you."

And lied straight to his face.

It nearly made her sick, and the calm reassurance she saw in his eyes was enough to make bile rise up into her throat. Jack gave her a small smile after a moment, but something in his eyes seemed to close off. She swallowed as that stiff smile sent cold needles into her stomach; he couldn't know if she lied, could he?

"Thanks, Tooth." He said. Silently, he stood up and slipped his hands out of hers, his staff leaned casually against one shoulder.

"I needed that. And thanks for telling me about him. It…puts him in a better light, in my opinion." He said.

Tooth smiled carefully, standing as well, "No problem, Jack. You're welcome to my palace anytime you want. Even if it's just to hang out or talk, okay?"

"Sure," Jack said. He stretched briefly, before rising into the air, "Well, I better get out of here. Getting a bit warm for me. I'll see you later?"

"Of course."

"Good. We haven't seen you around much, so don't work too hard. See you around, Baby-Tooth," Jack said, the Mini-Fairy chirping and flying off his shoulder as he turned to leave, "Oh…" he suddenly paused, turning back to Tooth with an odd look on his face.

"Are you feeling alright by the way?" he asked. Tooth blinked, confused.

"Yeah, why?" she asked. Jack shrugged.

"Well you haven't jumped at me to look at my teeth yet, so I was just wondering if you were feeling sick or something." He said.

Again, she blinks owlishly in a stunned stupor. But receiving no reply from her, Jack shrugged again and waved to her and Baby-Tooth.

"Well, as long as you're okay, see ya! You too Baby-Tooth!" and in a gust of powerful wind, he was gone.

Tooth stood where she was in stunned silence, trying to comprehend just what was passed between her and Jack. First was an overly intense conversation, followed by a history lesson on Pitch and the Guardians, followed by Jack's admission to being frightened of being like Pitch, and now…now she has realized just how unfocused she was on Jack's teeth.

"What is happening to me…?" she wondered aloud.

She sighed, exasperated, and slumped back against one of the coiled pillars around the plateau. She rubbed her forehead tiredly and looked up at Baby-Tooth. The fairy was giving her a look of oddly mixed emotions consisting of concern and exaggeration.

"It's me, isn't it? I'm the one going crazy, right?" she asked. Baby-Tooth rolled her eyes, chirping about how dramatic Tooth was being.

Tooth smiled tiredly, sighing again and shutting her eyes to compose herself. The pillar felt oddly warm against her back, and not as hard as she recalled it to be. Actually…it was close to soft almost, with just the faintest bit of give to it. And…and was it moving?

"I must say…" an accented voice droned.

"Huh? AH!" Tooth startled and shot away from the pillar as said pillar started to move and coil around its base.

Hovering over the platform, Tooth spun around with a startled Baby-Tooth on her heels to the source of the odd occurrence. And there Pitch was, in all his serpentine glory, wound neatly around the gold pillar like he belonged there. Arms crossed over his chest, he slithered further up until he was at eye level with Tooth, a smug smirk stretching his lips.

"That was quite a…riveting…stroll down memory lane." He finished.

Tooth, eyes wide in shock and a faint bit of terror, quickly smoothed her feathers down and gaped at Pitch. Baby-Tooth only scowled at him, chirping angrily at him.

"How…?" she rasped, shaking her head, "How did you get up here…?!"

"I honestly didn't think I would make it this far," Pitch said nonchalantly, "But it seems young Frost's insecurity on his image allowed me some speck of power, and I was able to use a shadow to get onto a platform. I just slithered my way here the rest of the way."

Again, Tooth can only stare in confusion. Pitch rolled his eyes.

"It seems the reason I couldn't use my powers before was because there was not a speck of fear within a certain distance of me. Were I at my peak of power, I would be fine and could use my powers planets away," he explained, "But seeing as I am rather weakened, and your palace is miles away from any civilization, and therefore any fear, I'm powerless unless I pick some up within range. Ergo, one Jack Frost."

"Wait…" Tooth held her hands up, trying to process the information, "You mean…you're powerless because you're too far from anyone feeling fear?"

"Correct," Pitch droned, before casting a scathing look to Baby-Tooth, "And for whatever reason, you nor your fairies fear me, so therefore I can't get energy and power from them. I hadn't noticed when the Guardians had come by the first time – I was under water after all and in my own state – so this was only a temporary fix."

Almost dumbly, Tooth nods. It…made sense in a way. It was still so strange though. When she looked at Pitch, she saw a powerful entity no matter what state he was in. To see him, and hear him, admit to this new fault was amazing to her. It certainly explained why he was so close to a human population; it was how he got his fear. He acted like a well. Whatever was spilled in stayed, but if the well can't be reached…

'It dries up…' she thought. Shaking her head in near disbelief, she hovered down closer to the floor and regarded Pitch.

"How close do you need to be to someone to…get power?" she asked.

Pitch seemed to take a moment to think about her question, his eyes growing hazy and distant. She had to wonder if he was mentally reaching out as far as he could for any traces of fear. Perhaps animal fear didn't affect him like human fear. Base fears were rational and instinctual, unlike the more potent irrational fears and anxieties.

After a moment, Pitch frowned and blinked, his sight more focused and attention regained.

"I'd say within about three miles." He muttered ruefully.

That's it? No wonder he was so out of it this whole time; lack of power proved to be a major disadvantage. He wasn't going to be getting any energy at all unless people came by, and even then it was rare, and the energy intake miniscule for him.

'In other words, he's stuck here unless I use a Snowglobe…' she thought, biting her lip. Great, what else could go wrong?

She sighed, smoothing her crest back. She regarded Pitch again, this time in an observant manner. He certainly looked a smidge healthier than when she last saw him, more alive. He was still pale and gaunt, but there was a subtle hint of something to him that made him seem healthier. He wasn't as jagged in places, and the dark smudges under his eyes were slightly fainter. All that from just a tiny hint of fear and insecurity that lasted, at best, a few minutes.

A thought suddenly occurred to Tooth, and she looked over the edge of the plateau. It was a long drop; the platform she hovered on was at least a couple dozen stories off the ground. He likely teleported to one of the lower platforms, and slithered his way up to hers when she didn't notice – how did she not notice? Better yet, how did Jack or Baby-Tooth not notice?

"How…" she looked back at him, frowning, "How exactly are you going to get down?"

"Hm, good question…" Pitch muttered, resting his chin in a hand thoughtfully, "I can climb up and down just fine, but I tire quickly and can lose my grip. I doubt a fall would kill me, but still, that would hurt quite a bit…"

He made it sound like he couldn't decide what to wear that morning. Nonchalant, as if he wasn't thinking about how terrible it would be to splatter like a watermelon tossed from a building and to the ground. She almost wanted to slap him – and then herself for putting up with him.

"So then…?" she probed. He shrugged.

"I guess I'm bunking with you tonight then," he said, shooting her a smirk, "Even if I made it to the ground, I can't get back into the ravine without something to climb. It's a sheer rock wall with nothing to grip, darling."

Oh my god, she thought. He's doing it again. He was doing it again. Why? Why was he doing this to her? Why was she falling for it? Why couldn't he act like his asshole self and just frustrate her? It would be so much easier!

And bunking? With her? What did that even mean? It couldn't mean what she thought it meant, that would imply-

"Toothiana…" the accented drawl snapped Tooth out of her little mental mini-panic then. She looked up at the serpentine man, eyes wide and mouth drawn in a thin line. He quirked a brow at her and put a fist on his hip.

"If you're going to panic so much, do it in smaller doses. I can only take so much at once." He said with a dry smirk.

Oh…oh she was not getting into this right now. Nope. Not happening. She was done.

'I am not mature enough for this!' she thought. And with that, she turned tail (quite literally) and flitted for her work station without another word.

"Now wait a moment! Hang on!" Pitch called after her.

'Nope, not doing this, I am just going back to work, and not dealing with this.' She thought –completely unaware of Pitch slithering from pillar to tower to follow her.

Behind her, Pitch huffed as she continued to ignore him, "Well that's rude. Whatever happened to my most gracious hostess?"

Not doing this, she wasn't going to play his game, ever. He can follow her as much as he liked, but she was not going to get into this game again and would it kill him to put a shirt on!?

Growling, Pitch stopped and curled his tail up on the platform he found himself on, surrounded by gold and bejeweled pillars, and the working fairies oddly far off. He must be in a more scarce part of Tooth Palace. Baby-Tooth had long since been shooed away by Tooth, but he was getting annoyed with her avoiding him. What was she going to do anyways? Keep flying around until he wore out and got lost? It wouldn't surprise him…

He suddenly grinned as an idea popped into his head.

"You know, you never did explain why you brought me up to him." he suddenly said.

She stopped suddenly, unable to help herself. She cursed herself for giving in so soon, but let herself turn to him. Tooth gave him an odd look, both annoyed yet curious, "What?"

"You asked him what he thought of me, and got an answer," he said, almost curiously, "But you never explained why you brought that up. So I'll ask – why?"

Tooth frowned, suddenly uncomfortable, "Why do you want to know? How much did you hear anyways…?"

A scoff, "Perhaps I'm curious. Perhaps I'm simply bored and want something to think about. It's not exactly a party sitting down in the ravine all day. And really, I heard enough."

Tooth bit her lip, suddenly a bit guilty and her previous resolve forgotten. He was right; it couldn't be all that fun being down there all day with nothing to do. She made a mental note to ask him if there was anything he liked to do or read later. Maybe she could get some stuff from his lair – if the Nightmares were still piles of wet sand anyways.

But his question; why? Why did she ask? What did she want to know? She actually had to ask herself the same question of why. And she had no answer whatsoever.

'Don't you though?' she bit her lip, regarding the Boogeyman thoughtfully. He stood by patiently yet anxiously, as if there was a restlessness in his bones he could not shake off. She definitely needed to find something for him to do later.

"I…" she started, uncertain, "I think-"

"You think?"

"I know!" Tooth suddenly blurted, startling Pitch. She calmed after a moment, turning away from Pitch, "I know…that there are some redeeming qualities to you…"

"Oh really?" He drawled, disbelieving, "And what, pray tell, are some of these redeeming qualities?"

Tooth paused, wondering if she was making the right decision in what she was going to say. Either way, she had already opened her mouth. And either she was going to dig her hole deeper or make a point.

"The boy…"

Pitch tensed, his scales rising and veins bulging in his neck. His eyes dilated into sharp slits, and he looked on the verge of snarling. But Tooth held her ground, mentally preparing herself for any form of attack; whether it was verbal or physical.

Finally, Pitch spoke, but his words were acidic and venomous enough to match the serpentine body he now possessed.

"That boy…" he spat the word like he was tasting something foul, "Was nothing. He was merely a lost runt who had nothing better to do than to follow the Boogeyman until his end. He was a fool. Following fear incarnate, it's no wonder he died."

He seemed suddenly done with his own game and made as if to leave. But Tooth wanted answers, and so caught him by his wrist and yanked him back.

"How can you say that?!" Tooth snapped.

"Because it's TRUE!" Pitch screamed, yanking his arm away and rising up onto his coils until he loomed over Tooth, slowly backing her into a pillar, "He was a fool! A pest! Nothing but a whelp of a mongrel pup that just could not stand the thought of being alone! So he resorted to following me around, clinging to me like a parasitic leech!"

Tooth's back hit a pillar as she stared wide eyed up at the infuriated Boogeyman. Somewhere in her mind she wished she had her rapiers with her, while another part was actually becoming frightened of him. He loomed over her, chest heaving with erratic breath and wild, almost manic, eyes upon her.

"He died because he was a fool," he rasped, fangs flashing, their noses nearly touching, "The only reason he was able to see me back then was because he feared me, and because of that, he died, and because he died – one, insignificant, worthless child – you all came after me, when he was NOT my responsibility!"

Her heart was pounding in her ears, and her fear of this manic man – this beast – spiked. Pitch suddenly growled lowly in his throat, eyes rolling back. He snarled and lunged for her, Tooth snapping her eyes shut in fearful anticipation of a snake's strike. But it never came.

A puff of hot air brushed against her neck then, just against her pulse point. Opening her eyes just the slightest bit, she gasped as all she caught in her sight was the crest of dark hair just along the left side of her peripheral vision.

His breath stuttering and shoulders heaving, Pitch nearly moaned at the potent fear he was gaining from the fairy trapped in front of him, the smell of it permeating heatedly through her neck. It was the sweetest, most intoxicating thing he'd ever smelled, filling his senses with a tingling sensation that had him nearly sinking his teeth into that delicate neck. Oh how he wanted it, this fear he's been deprived of for so long. He felt like a rabid animal, completely mindless and body full of nothing but sheer selfish instinct and desire. He opened his mouth, scenting the air, thick with Tooth's fears and her own natural scent; like exotic flowers and warm tropical air.

She gasped as one of his fangs touched her neck, her pulse jumping and fingers digging into the side of the pillar she was backed into. She shuddered as Pitch growled and buried his face into her neck, inhaling deeply. She felt faint, ready to pass out from…what? Fear? Anticipation? She didn't know. All she knew was that she was in possible danger, but she did not care.

Nuzzling her neck, Pitch sighed as his sanity seemed to slowly leak back into him. His vision wasn't as fuzzy anymore, and his nerves were not as raw and exposed as they felt earlier. His body was still wound tight like a spring, but he didn't feel like he was about to come undone at any minute and lose all control of himself. He felt reenergized, invigorated, yet so tired…

Slowly, he pushed back from Tooth and left the confines of her neck, hands shaking and mouth dry. He felt shaky and weak suddenly, his bones turned to rubber and his muscles useless. He barely managed to keep himself upright on his tail, regarding the shaking fairy with glassy eyes. He opened his mouth, but said nothing. And after a moment, his mouth closed. He shook his head.

Without a word, he turned and slinked off for some place to think. He had a faint amount of energy – perhaps he could teleport back down to the ravine. Heaven knows he didn't have the energy to go any further than that. So agreeing, he touched a shadow and got ready to leave.

"Pitch…" a crackled voice called softly, almost like a whisper.

He paused, but said nothing, nor did he turn around to meet Tooth's gaze. Shakily, her voice somehow partly lost to her, Tooth spoke.

"Did he really mean so little to you…?" she asked.

Silence. A long, tense moment of silence. Pitch's hand was halfway through the crystalline pool of shadows, slowly growing weaker as he wasted energy on standing there. Without looking to her, he merely replied in a flat, yet weary, tone.

"He was just another human boy," he said, "He was nothing more, and nothing less. He was insignificant…"

And with that, he slinked into the shadow and appeared back in his – when did it become his? – ravine.

While back up in the spires, Tooth sunk to her knees in an exhausted pile, her body shaking. That…was a lot more intense than she wanted it to be. But why? How could Pitch be so cold hearted? Were people really of so little matter to him? It was true, humans died every day, and many were children that the Guardians simply could not save. The world wasn't a fairytale where everyone got a happy ending. If it was, there would be no need for the Guardians. But still, it did not mean she liked it, nor did she wish it were not true.

But for him to so blatantly disregard that poor lost boy, after all they had been through, how much time they spent together…

Tooth sagged, curling her knees up to her chest like Jack had done only moments ago.

Pitch was redeemable – was. But now…

'Is there really anything left to save in him?' she wondered.

That evening, when she went to polish the scale, somehow it had become duller and harder.

~s~S~s~

There was no avoiding it. She was already hours late, and she could not put it off for any longer – no matter how much she wanted to.

Armed with a platter of food, a few books from her own collection, and a rather shallow wit, Tooth descend into the ravine to deliver Pitch's dinner. She had already eaten by herself hours ago, but had not the heart to face Pitch after their last encounter. What would she even say to him? What would he say to her? Likely she was going to have to suffer through some verbal abuse, perhaps some intimidation and acidic words. But no, she would brave the storm and leave with at least a half clear conscious.

'Just an in and out thing…' she thought, descending further into the darkened crevice, 'He might not even be hungry, maybe he's brooding somewhere…'

Reaching the bottom, she touched down and looked around the ravine. No sign of Pitch was anywhere to be seen; it was dark and cooler down there, the only source of light being the light blue glow of the oasis by the tree. She frowned, setting the tray down on a rock.

'Where is he?' she wondered.

"Pitch?" She called cautiously. No response, not even a lick of wind or a whisper. She grew worried; had he somehow gotten out of Tooth Palace? Was he still up in the spires? Had he left…?

She startled slightly at a sound; it was pained, like the groan of a wounded animal. Turning this way and that, hands itching for her rapiers, she paused. A dark mass was at the base of the tree, just behind where Pitch usually slept and away from the pool's glow. Carefully fluttering closer, she peered over one of the thick roots and down into the large pit behind it.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Pitch was there, and asleep. Curled up in the pit in his coils, he was completely oblivious to his visitor. But her relief was short lived however, when that same noise reverberated from Pitch. His body shuddered and tensed, his brow creased as he struggled in the throes of a dream. But there was no Dreamsand hovering over his head, nor any Nightmare sand. But there was a foreboding aura around him, a cold, lonely feeling of isolation and hopelessness.

"Pitch?" Tooth tried, hesitant to touch him.

But she paused in shock however, when through the tightly screwed eyes, a tear escaped and slid down a gaunt cheek. His mouth opened ever so slightly in a pained grimace, his whole body wracked with shudders.

"I-…'m sorry…!" he muttered.

What, Tooth thought, stunned as she watched more tears fall down his cheeks and drip off his chin. A wretched sob escaped the Boogeyman then, and he gasped out,

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…!"

Tooth fled the ravine. She flew straight for her own room, landing heavily on her bed. She held her hands to her mouth as she gasped in repressed emotions and startled confusion.

Pitch…had been crying. Crying! Why? When? How? Her brain screamed at her, demanding an answer to the shadow man's tears. And what he was saying…

'Who is he apologizing to?' she wondered franticly.

It suddenly dawned on Tooth then. What did she even know about Pitch? She knew next to nothing about him; what made him happy, what made him sad, what made him hurt…

She didn't even think the Boogeyman was capable of tears – of real tears. It seemed to occur to her that his tears were not black. They had been clean, pure, completely devoid of any of that soul-sucking blackness she was so used to seeing in his eyes. That had been true pain; it had been Pitch in his most vulnerable and raw state.

And it was painful.

Sobbing, Tooth curled up in her bed, reaching under her pillow. She pulled out a small item wrapped in a gold silk cloth, and clutched it to her breast. She took comfort in the little thing, but just barely. It wasn't the same as before, when she used to hold it when she was distressed. It felt like the heaviest weight in her hands, faltering her even in her bed.

An hour or so passed before she was able to fall into an unsteady sleep, the cloth and its occupant still held tightly in her hands.

Glowing eyes watched her from her window, the stout, hunched over figure grinning a gnarled tooth smile. He had found it.

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