Chapter 4

Pitch starred down at the two Jack Frost's, one with brown hair and tan skin, the other with white and grey. He rubbed his chin, tilting his head to the side. "I wondered," he mused. He looked up at the ceiling, as if he were gazing at the Moon. "Is this the reason?" he turned back. "Well I don't just want to smash the two together and see what happens." He skipped over the bodies and opened the wardrobe doors. He stepped again into the silence, moving around cautiously. His eyes were getting better, he could almost see perfectly in this place now. The more he looked the more forms he saw. Huddled, crouching forms of men and woman, all remaining deathly still. He reached over and grabbed at one, feeling its face. Yes, this one was defiantly alive, he felt it flinch a little, but remain still. After further investigation, he discovered that Jack seemed to be the only one in this desolate place that wasn't alive. "I'll never know more unless I remove this terrible silence," he thought. Gathering his sand around him, he made a dome of black sand over him and the person he had found. The difference was felt instantly. His ears no longer felt like they were constantly ready to pop, and making a sound without shattering ones eardrums actually felt like a possibility. The cowering girl in front of him blinked, slowly, yet cautiously, relaxing. Pitch grabbed her hair, tilting her head back to look at him. "What is this place?" he hissed.

"Hands off asshat!" the woman growled, shoving his hand off.

Pitch was taken aback, but then he recovered his wits and hauled the woman up by the shirt collar. "Answer me…"

"God I've been waiting to talk for so long and that was the best way to start." She sighed, tossing her hair. "It's Limbo genius," she droned. "That's were all of us go."

Pitch dropped her, angered by her defiance. "What do you mean all of us?"

"Demons," she answered. "Ghosts, angels, everything that isn't a monster like Leviathans and Vamps."

Pitch blinked thoughtfully. "A soul harboring station. A waiting line till the other side!"

"Bindo, give the dork a prize,"

Pitch turned to her, storming over. "I am the Boogyman! This place has been given to me for my control and you will respect me!"

The girl continued to stare at him in a very unimpressed way. "You want me to get you a tissue in that case?"

Pitch's face got a very dull look. "What's your name?" he asked.

She leaned forward, her arms folded. "Meg,"

"Meg," he sighed with a smile, and then grabbed her and threw her out of the protective dome.

He stormed out of the wardrobe, paced a little until his anger cooled, and then sat down next to the Jacks. He rubbed his face, and then let out his breath in a puff, looking down at them. "Alright then," he sighed. "Back to mashing them," he rolled the white hair Jack, the one he had found in Limbo, and pressed him into the brown one. They vanished into each other and Pitch jumped back, slightly surprised. The brown slowly started to fade from Jack's hair, replacing it with white. His pigment slowly faded, and then suddenly he jolted up, gasping harshly and grasping his heart. Pitch blinked, and then twisted his mouth to one side, shrugging. "Hm…howbout that?"

Jack swallowed, turning his head. "Pitch?"

"No the Book Worm, of course it's Pitch!" the Boogyman snapped.

Jack swallowed again, trying to stand, but he faltered and fell back to his knees. "Why…how? I…I was dead!"

"Ya!" Pitch said, crossing his arms. "Your body was left back on earth while your soul came here, I just glued you back together."

"You did?" Jack asked, panting still. "Thank you."

Pitch's mouth moved a few times, trying to find words, before waving his hands in frustration. "Look, look, I only did it on a matter of principle."

"Right," Jack said with a small laugh, before he tried to get up again.

"Oh knock it off," Pitch moaned, watching him fall flat on his face. "You just came back from the dead. It just looks like you're going to need to heal up here."

"B-but my friends!" Jack stammered.

"You're too weak to even move, much less fly to them. And don't look at me to help, they think I snitched your body… well technically I did, so I would rather have you be there with me when I say you are alive. That'll prevent any unnecessary teeth removal."

Jack heaved a sigh and flopped backwards. "So now what?"

"Well…" Pitch said, "I guess you'll just have to sit on your frozen rear until you can fly out of here on your own.

Jack gave him a dirty look. "You know, you were that close to actually being nice."

"Well then, thank goodness I stopped myself in time," Pitch sneered back, tossing his staff at the boy's feet. Jack didn't reply, but only turned away from him, pulling up his hood.

Pitch hadn't been too far off. The kidnapping of Jack had Sam worried sick, and the Guardians pounding at Pitch's door. There was nothing else to tell, aside from the fact that Pitch wouldn't let the Guardians in his layer for the following three reasons. One, he didn't want the Guardians to tear him to pieces right off the bat/invading his home. Two, he wanted to see the experiment he started with Jack through, and three…he was a total prick.

***In the meantime, Dean and Sam got another tip for a job, and found themselves on the road. Sam spent the whole ride starring out the window. Dean breathed a sigh, thumping the wheel. "Look they'll get to him."

"Tooth slammed herself into every door that led to his layer until she nearly killed herself. Only her call to work stopped her. Bunny is still digging his paws raw trying to get inside." Sam said quietly.

"What could he possibly do huh?" Dean retorted. "He was sorry for the whole thing so he…"

"Is up to something good by stealing Jack?" Sam interjected. "This is Pitch we're talking about."

Dean didn't really have a response for that and he pulled over into a motel. It was shabby, but it over looked the ocean at least. "Here's the deal," Dean huffed. "Some partying kids claimed a corpse came up out of the water and attacked them."

"Dutchman pirate?" Sam asked.

"That's why I took this job so fast," Dean confirmed. "Thanks to Crowley taking the Pole, we never finished that case. We're gonna go get the standard interviews, wait till evening, and then hope the ghost ship pops up."

"I did some research," Sam said, opening his computer. "According to myth, Jones can only come onto the shore once every ten years and, as we already know, his missing heart is his weakness. If we get that, we can off him."

"Any other weaknesses?"

"His crew should go down by regular methods. It might take a little more than normal, but it is doable." Sam answered.

Dean stood and slapped his shoulder. "Let's get to work then," he squeezed his arm briefly. "And don't worry, we will get Jack back, I promise you."

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, and then put on his work face, and followed his brother.

Later that day, the brothers decided to take a nap so they had energy for the hunt. They slept soundly, but outside the Flying Dutchman was slowly looming out of the water. Darkness had just settled, and the ship slowly turned itself until it was facing the hotel. On the ship, the shark toothed pirate squinted at the building in the distance. He nodded once with a grunt. "Fire!"

Dean and Sam awoke to the sound of cannon fire and splintering wood. They rolled off the beds as holes where blown into the walls, decimating the room. They scrambled up, crouching low and covering their heads. "Stay down!" Dean yelled, right as the bed behind Sam flipped forward, blasted to pieces. Sam was knocked out cold in front of him and he reached down to shake his shoulders.

But a wet, strong hand grabbed him, turning him around, the cannon fire suddenly ceasing. Jones starred him in the eye, leaning forward menacingly. "If ye want to rescue your brother, why don't you tell your Guardian friends to come lend you a hand? Ye'll need all the help you can get." Then the hilt of his sword cracked into Dean's skull, and darkness engulfed him.

***Sam once again woke up to the creak of the Flying Dutchman, he sat up, rubbing the back of his head where a bit of blood was crusted. He swallowed and looked to his right quickly as Jones tromped inside. "Welcome back Mr. Winchester,"

Sam exhaled, wincing and getting to his feet. "Not you again. What brilliant idea do you have this time?"

"Working under Pitch was a fool's choice that I regret," Jones said, drumming his fingers on his sword. "Commanding my own affairs have always gone better." He turned away, walking back up the stairs. "Come with me." Sam followed looking around cautiously. Davy Jones motioned ahead of him, presenting a cannon mounted to a rig in the center of the ship. "360 degree turning abilities, it will punch a hole in North's sleigh, we even may be able to rip a pretty red hole in that feathery freak."

Sam sniffed. "Well nothing says well sounded plan like a souped up cannon and discriminatory comments."

Jones glanced down at him, and then put an arm around him. "I think I'll learn to like you Winchester. But you'll have to learn that when a man of the seas says a woman is a useless bitch," he turned, placing both hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eyes. "She's a useless bitch."

"If you think one cannon is going to stop all the Guardians you're wrong," Sam said, stepping away from him.

"My kraken will be waiting under the boat as is the norm. You all had the privilege of calling it off before. Now, it will be waiting to snatch them out of the sky. Besides, the cannon handles North, the kraken handles Sandman, Bunnymund can't reach us without drowning, and the Tooth Fairy is no threat. I believe that's it," he touched his finger to his mouth momentarily. "Wasn't there one more…?" Sam worked his jaw. "Ah yes, the little frosty one…" his fists clenched. "One that recently met a nice…wet…death," Sam threw a punch but it was caught in an iron grip. Jones twisted his wrist downward, leering over him. "Watch it Sam Winchester, ye'll be working on my ship until they come for your rescue. And if ye don't work compliantly, you end up dead…" he turned his head toward his crew, where the old fisherman stood, now part of the crew, a starfish clasped to his neck and barnacles growing around his face. "You end up like them."

"What's the point of all this?" Sam asked. "Picking a bone with the Guardians? That's what is generally categorized as stupid."

"If I help Crowley defeat the Guardians," Jones explained. "I get to walk not only one day out of ten years,"

"Yesterday," Sam growled, gritting his teeth.

"But every day of the year," Jones finished. "And that…" he closed his eyes with thoughtful bliss. "Will be so…wonderful."