A/N: Hello again! Sorry for all the pseudo-chapters and for the long (long, long, long) wait. Life happens. To address some of your comments/concerns in the reviews:

Jack was super annoying in that chapter! I didn't like him. It was like I wanted to slap him every time he opened his mouth etc…. Good! I'm glad you felt this way! You were reading from Trick's perspective (in a roundabout way) and Trick does, in fact, find Jack irritating.

HOW DARE YOU ALMOST KILL RINA?! ….To be honest, I originally made Rina just to kill her…sorry. Kind of on the fence about it now, though. I also revoke my previous comment of there being only maybe two chapters left. I have much more planned now….

**To JammieSkies – malen'kiye ognennyye odnogo = little fiery one

Anyway, I should probably get to the update part now…yeah. Here you go. You deserve it.

"Pitch?" I frowned, confused, my voice raspy from the gritty substance rubbing my throat raw. "What's wrong? What do you mean I'm 'back'?" I reached down, trying to unclasp his arms from around me so I could turn around, shivering at the feeling of his fear as it tried to wheedle its way through my veins, but his arms just clasped me tighter to him, as if he was trying to embed me in his chest.

Pitch stiffened around me. "You don't remember?" he asked, curious, his breath stirring my hair and tickling my cheek.

All was silent save for the leaves stirring in the almost imperceptible breeze as I struggled through my migraine to think. Memories slowly resurfaced: Emmy in her pretty burgundy dress, meeting Pitch at the top of the house, seeing the blue-green and violet fire devouring my town, Trick's eye turning the color of his trick-fire, Pitch and his armada of Nightmares. "I remember you charging through the square with your horde of demon horses, nearly trampling me and Trick."

"I already told you, I wasn't trying to hurt you." He chuckled, putting the slightest emphasis on the last word. "My business association with Trick was finished, that's all."

I struggled with his arms until he released me to stumble-float a few feet away, hugging myself against the sudden cold. I tossed my head so my glimmering hair floated out of my face and glowered at his yellow-gray eyes, all I could make out of him in the gloom. "Yeah, I got that. It doesn't mean you need to try to kill him, though."

Pitch laughed, the cold sound echoing mildly in the silence around us. "Of course it does. Why do you care about the trickster's wellbeing for, anyhow?" He asked, suspicion leaking into his voice as he advanced towards me, hands clasped behind his back.

I floated back from him, arms crossing my chest as I narrowed my gaze in his general direction. "What's it matter to you?"

"You can't answer my question with one of your own." The King of Nightmares scoffed.

I continued my retreat, staring fixedly at the point between Pitch's eyes. "Of course I can. It's common practice among mortals, like a verbal tango. I thought you were aware of this; you seem to enjoy dancing around the truth."

"Wisp."

My teeth clicked together as I realized I was grasping at straws in a desperate attempt not to answer the question. I knew the answer to both of our questions—I just didn't want to admit it. Admitting it would mean not only that I had failed as a good example for my sisters by falling for the not-so-good guy. It would also mean that I'd have to tell Pitch that, who I was pretty sure liked me, too. I didn't know how well he would take that, or what the repercussions would be considering his newly acquired power. Hell, I didn't even know how I felt about him.

I decided to opt for a change of subject. Turning my back on him, I addressed the lake, a vast inky void without the stars to reflect. "Why'd you bring me back here, anyway?"

"Because I wanted to have a private chat with you." He said simply. The hissing of his coat trailing across the grass seemed to ring out around us as he strolled towards me, the sound raising gooseflesh along my arms.

I made a noncommittal sound in the back of my throat, staring out across the lake, as Pitch stepped up to stand at my side, the whisper-soft cloth of his sleeve brushing against my bare arm, his fingers grazing the back of my hand with each breath he took. My migraine had reduced to a dull throbbing, my throat and chest filled with a burning ache. "What about?"

"Do you like this place, Wisp?" I ignored the strange fluttering motion my stomach made each time his skin came in contact with mine.

So much for not answering questions with questions, I thought snidely with a smirk. "It's nice, especially when the stars are out." I acquiesced, not quite sure what he was getting at. "It's so quiet, and the breeze feels amazing."

"The whole world could be like this, you know. Just like it was back in the Dark Ages." He suggested.

My smirk grew. "Something tells me that your glory days weren't nearly this peaceful."

"Gracious, no, I daresay they weren't." He laughed darkly. "But then, that's what made them fun. With my old power back, we can have anything, everything." He murmured, voice full of a reverential conviction that sent a chill racing up my spine. "I want that time, that world, back…and I want to share it with you."

"As, what?" I asked jokingly. "Your buddy? Your new 'business partner'?"

His fingers laced through mine and he brought my hand to his lips, grazing his mouth against my skin in a shockingly gentle kiss across my knuckles. The sensation made my stomach twist and flutter in ways that weren't entirely unpleasant. "I was thinking more along the lines of my better half."

Shit, here it comes.

"You don't really mean that." I said, slowly disentangling our hands, feeling my hair settle around my shoulders and back like a heavy blanket. I closed my eyes, taking a slow shuddering breath. When I opened them again, Pitch stood in front of me, peering down into my face with something like concern.

His fingers tried to intertwine with mine again. "I do mean it, every single word. Wisp, I—,"

I snatched my hand away from his reach, my skin flickering and flaring with my emotional upheaval as I leapt back from him. "Don't lie to me, Pitch Black." I whispered, voice hoarse.

My flickering caught his confused expression like a strobe light. "I'm not."

I shook my head vehemently. "You are! I know you well enough by now to understand that you don't share well with others, don't you think?"

Pitch tsked at me disdainfully, smirking. "I can practically taste the fear coming off of you. It's wonderful, but what's the cause of it? It can't be that you're still scared of having affection towards me, can it?"

My hands shook in the crooks of my elbows, making me curl my fingers into fists. "I'm not scared! I'm agitated!"

"Why?"

I gripped my head between my hands, digging my nails into my scalp. "Because I'm confused!"

"What is there to be confused about, pet? It's a simple question; do you want to be with me or no?"

I shook my head harder. "It's not that simple! There are so many things to consider: Trick, North, Emmy and Jenna, my Guardianship—the list doesn't stop! I'm not sure that you even want me."

Pitch's dusk colored eyes narrowed into slits. "Where's all of this coming from, then? Your precious friend Trick?"

"Don't be ridiculous." I frowned. "I'm perfectly capable of creating my own thoughts, thank you."

Pitch advanced on me, long fingers snaring one of my wrists tightly and pulling me closer to him. "Then why are you so against this, against me? I'm offering you the world! I thought this was what you wanted! Has all of my work been for nothing? Why are you fighting this so hard?!" he snarled, our noses almost touching.

"Because I'm not enough for you!" I roared back, feeling the hot, awful tears seep from my eyes to sear my cheeks. My chest felt like it wanted to explode like my words had, and at the same time an overwhelming sense of release came over me. The words had finally come out—this was my fear when it came to him: I was terrified that if I did love him, I would never be enough. And the worst part was that it was probably true.

Pitch's eyes widened in shock, his fingers loosening enough to allow for fresh blood flow to make my numbed fingertips prickle as he watched my tears slide down my face. "What?"

I felt more tears well like magma behind my eyes. "You heard me. I'm not enough, not for you, and you know it perfectly well. You just want to have the whole world, me included. The whole time I've known you, you've been—fixated on getting the world back to the way it was before the Guardians came around." The cloud cover above us broke, allowing a few meek rays of moonlight to filter through and illuminate us.

The ragged sound of Pitch's heavy breathing mixed with the crackling of my sporadic fires to fill the silence that had smashed between us as we stared at each other, needing to say more but not wanting to.

"But I love you," he finally murmured, looking lost. I closed my eyes against the vulnerability I saw lying in the depths of his eyes. My cheeks became hyperaware as I felt his palms cup my face, fingers weaving into my hair, and I imagined hearing him say, I need you.

The imagined statement made me feel pathetic; he would never say that. I shook my head slowly and opened my stinging eyes, giving him a sad smile. "No, you don't. You love power, the idea of having me be another pawn for you to use in your stupid war with the Guardians, just like Trick."

The sound of Trick's name passing from my lips made Pitch's eyes slit dangerously as he rose to his full height, his grip shifting to my shoulders. "You sure seem to sympathize with Trick these days, don't you."

I raised my chin, setting my jaw stubbornly and smacking his hands aside. "What of it?"

"You're smitten with him, aren't you?" Pitch spat, circling me. His coat snapped at my legs as he twisted around me, yellowed eyes flashing.

"Why? Are you jealous?" I quipped between clenched teeth, raising my chin a little higher and glaring at him.

He let out a humorless laugh. "Now you're being ridiculous. Ooh, but you'd love it to be true, wouldn't you? For me to be worried about you being stolen away by that sugarholic trickster. Anyway, what I find particularly interesting is that you didn't even try and deny it."

"I…."

"Or maybe," Pitch continued, not giving me a chance to speak, "maybe you're just terrified to admit that you are a little darker than suitable for the Guardians, for your sisters. You're scared to think that maybe we make too good a match."

The wind around us kicked up as I shook my head agitatedly back and forth, my wild hair flying. "You're wrong."

"On which account?"

I ran my hands over my face, smoothing my hair back in the same motion with a sigh. "I don't know. But you're wrong."

He chuckled lightly at this, his temper cooling. His expression softened as he reached out, caressing my cheek, and I was shaken by the tenderness I saw in the depths of his eyes. "Would it really be so bad, being with me?"

I opened and closed my mouth uselessly, unable to put together a cohesive sentence that would accurately describe what I felt for him, what I thought of the idea of being by his side, quite possibly forever. The scariest part was that I could see it, my future with him playing out in my mind; dancing to Frank Sinatra until the end of time, having to deal with his stupid demon horses, making sure he didn't go too far with giving the children nightmares, helping kids own up to and face their fears, the two of us together in the dark. I'd probably lose my temper with him more than once, and take off, and he'd appear beside me after I'd stopped emitting flames and be stupidly debonair and this train of thought needed to stop now.

I stepped back from him, hiding my face in my hands and peeking at him between my fingers after my breathing had ceased being so erratic. "I—I need…time… to think."

Laughter rumbled deep within him as he eyed me. "How curious. What's with this sudden shift in attitude?"

I placed one of my fingers against his lips to shut him up, glaring at him. "Don't ask me questions right now, okay? I just came out of a coma, I'm already confused and tired and I feel like crap. I had a huge migraine even before you dumped all of this extra stuff to think about on me and now I just really need some me-time to sort everything out, alright?"

He blinked slowly at me, as if startled by the fact that I would actually consider his offer, and nodded as I took away my finger from his lips. "Of course."

"Good. Now, if you could please show me how to get out of here, I'd be grateful." I sighed, feeling exhausted, and massaged my temples as I started to sway a bit on my feet, unused to standing for so long. I let the air coddle me, falling back into it as it took my weight, sitting in midair. I let my eyelids drift shut, and when I opened them again I was floating in my room at North's place. I whispered my thanks to the shadows and moved to climb into bed when a shimmer on the bedside table caught my eye. I reached out for it, the illumination from my hand revealing it to be the candy Trick had given me a few days ago, the red and gold swirl of it reminding me of his treat-fire.

Treat-fire. With a gasp more memories came back to me, though hazy; Trick bringing me back with his own fire, even though he didn't have his lantern, falling back from me as whatever had hit me took over him. Was he okay? Did he ever get his lantern back from Pitch, or did the Boogieman still have it? My heart panged with a horrible agony at the thought of never seeing Trick's devilish grin again, or hearing him call me leannán or any of his other ridiculous, wonderful nicknames. If he'd died…. My fingers trembled as I unwrapped the candy, vision narrowing into tunnel vision as I breathed shallowly. I tossed the candy in my mouth, wincing as the burning sensation started. Tears swam in my eyes as the burning worsened, making it feel as if every cell in my body was preparing to spontaneously combust, and some instinct pushed me to get outside, fast.

The cellophane wrapper sticking to my clammy palm, I cast a furtive glance at the darkness around me before tearing off into the hall, accidentally kicking aside an elf in my haste.

Too tired to fly, I wondered if this was how Rina felt as I took long leaps through the hall, like walking on the moon. I dodged elves and yetis alike, all of them seeming surprised to see me. How long had I been unconscious for them to look so shocked? I didn't have time to worry about that.

Kicking off of one of the worktables, I used my remaining strength to send myself soaring out through Manny's window, the toes of my boots barely scraping the worn wood of the frame, and let out a shriek as I plunged face-first into a snow drift several hundred feet from the workshop. Before the cold could register, there was an explosion of heat, like I'd dove into the heart of a volcano instead of a pile of snow. I opened my eyes slowly, hesitantly after most of the heat died away.

I was kneeling on all fours on the ground, but I didn't have to look up to tell where I was; the pure green of the ferns and moss that littered the ground and the smell of burned sugar on the breeze were all that I needed. All of my muscles taut and aching, I pulled myself up slowly to my feet in the middle of Trick's hallow, stumbling towards his cavern. My eyelids drooped heavily as a sudden wave of tiredness washed over me, the wind helping to support me as I trudged closer to the trickster's dwelling. My palms made contact with the rough cave walls and the wind died away, leaving me to collapse, knees trembling, against the wall.

"Trick!" I called out, voice bouncing off the walls of the cave weakly. I waited a moment, listening for him, before scooting along the wall further inside. My vision was fuzzy, but I could still make out the sight of his bed, the numerous cushions, coverlets and furs seemingly empty. I tottered over to the foot of the bed, swaying on my feet a bit, and perched on the edge facing the mouth of the cave, waiting.

I was unaware that I had fallen asleep until I was startled awake by a ripping, crackling sound like an inferno. I pried myself free from the bed's clutches and into a somewhat-upright position, rubbing at my eyes with the heel of my palms. The thundering of boots against stone echoed around me, and my hands fell away from my face in time for me to see Trick come roaring into the room; his expression was terrifyingly fierce, tattoos blazing and eyes spitting fire, his fists almost indistinguishable from the brilliant flames wrapped around them like the bandages on a boxer's knuckles. A white-hot ball of flame bobbed along in his wake, struggling with the extra weight of his lantern.

When he recognized me sitting on his bed, his tattoos immediately extinguished, all fire disappearing save the flames the burned merrily in his eyes, wide with surprise. "Leannán?"

The shining star following him dimmed and shifted to form Rina, the lantern falling to the floor, forgotten, as she rocketed past Trick to bury herself in my neck, arms squeezing my throat tight. Little hissing sounds alerted me to the fact that I was crying, and tinier, similar sounds came from the little elemental between hiccups.

I reached up to stroke her burning hair and smiled, relieved, at Trick. He shook his head a bit, as if disbelieving the sight before him. A crooked smile lit up his face before he shot forward, falling to his knees in front of me and wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. He remained frighteningly still, save for the ever-constricting force of his arms. I waited patiently, content and not really able to breathe, and stroked his mussed orange hair. After a while he took a slow, shuddering breath and pulled back a bit, tilting his head back to stare into my eyes.

I let out a small laugh, toying with the hair at the base of his neck. "I don't think you've ever been this quiet around me in the entire time I've known you." My smile faltered a bit when he continued to stare at me, expression unreadable. "Trick? Is everything alri—?"

I let out a surprised shriek as he suddenly surged upwards, Rina darting away, his hands holding my face gently but securely as his mouth found mine. I let out a soft sigh and let my eyelids flutter closed, feeling my hair whirl and snap in the breeze I had unwittingly generated as my hands came up to cover his, feeling my lips curl up in a silly grin. He pulled back before I could really react, still clutching my face between his hands. His serious expression sent a thrill up my spine, making me shiver. "Wisp, before anything else happens to either of us, I need to tell you that I love you implicitly, body and soul and that beautiful mind of yours. I love the way you laugh, your quick wit, the way you wrinkle your nose when you're teasing. I love how you put your sisters above anything else, your unwavering loyalty—,"

The idiot is going to make me die of embarrassment. I let out a laugh, feeling the uneasy heat creeping up my neck, and covered his mouth with both of my hands. "Oh my gosh, will you please stop? You're being ridiculous."

He nodded, and I took my hands away. "Funny, mo ghrá, considering how you were just complaining that I was being too quiet." He quipped with a sharp white grin.

"Ha ha." I rolled my eyes and shoved him away lightly, unable to fight the bubbling, relieved happiness I felt. He was alive, and apparently back to his usual, incorrigible self. This knowledge (along with my unintentional nap) rejuvenated me enough to stand up from the bed. I felt almost giddy.

Trick sat back on his haunches, staring up at me with a bewildered smile, the flames in his eyes burning merrily. Something in his expression was waiting, expectant.

"What is it?" I asked warily after several intense, silent moments. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, brilliant hair flying in every direction, and stood up to kiss my cheek. "Don't fret about it, leannán. I can wait to hear you say it."

I blushed furiously as I realized what he was talking about and looked away quickly, suddenly uncomfortable. My unease made my bioluminescence intensify and flicker, making Trick laugh, and I punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Shut up." I opted for a change in subject. "Where're Emmy and Jenna? Are they okay? How long have I been out for, anyway?"

"Easy, mo chroí." Trick laughed heartily, slinging a large arm across my shoulders. "The little ones are fine—last I heard they were at North's place, but he has probably taken them home by now."

I scowled up at him as he began to lead me from his dwelling, his old swagger in his step. "North? I thought you were watching them!"

"I was…for a while. Don't give me that look!" He said in response to my glare and huff. "I couldn't keep them here for four days; their mum would've worried."

Four days, I mouthed, stunned. "I was unconscious for four days?"

"Four days, seven hours, twenty-three minutes and approximately forty-nine seconds but hey, who's counting, yeah?" he chuckled drily, rolling his eyes.

I set my jaw, determined, and sped up so that I was practically dragging Trick along behind me. "I need to see them, now."

"And so you shall. Rina darlin', we're going out for a bit. Mind the house, and please try not to incinerate everything while we're gone." The trickster called over his shoulder, scooping up his lantern from the cavern floor mid-step as he passed it. Once we were past the opening of the cave he unlatched both doors of the lantern and, with an experienced flick of his wrist, sent the lantern spiraling away. Both fires spilled out of their doors to twist and intertwine around one another until they formed a large, roaring inferno large enough for Trick, in all of his towering height, to comfortably stand in. He stepped back from me and motioned to the portal with a flourish. "Ladies first, leannán."

I charged through the crackling portal without a second thought, my ears popping lightly as the pressure changed. When I stepped through the other end, appearing in Emmy's room, I was immediately assaulted by a little gray-eyed girl wielding a familiar pink toy rabbit. I let out a wheeze as the air was squeezed out of me by Emmy's vice-tight embrace.

"Myra, you're back!" Emmy sobbed into my midsection, her hot tears seeping through the rich material of my dress and melting my heart. I rubbed little circles against her back with a smile.

There was a sound of feet padding quickly along the maple floorboards, and Emmy's door was thrown open as Jenna surged through, nearly tackling me and Emmy to the ground, and I could only gain air by breathing thinly through my mouth.

"Guys, I can feel my ribs starting to give under the pressure." I wheezed, trying to pry them off like the boa constrictors I suspected they secretly were.

Jenna socked me in the shoulder, making me wince, angry tears welling up in her dark eyes. "STOP TRYING TO DIE ON US, THEN." She snarled.

"Honestly, I don't try to!" It just kind of happened…a lot.

Emmy sniffled, rubbing her face against me (and probably wiping her nose on me, the little snot) before meeting my gaze as I avoided making eye-contact with Jenna. "Did it hurt when you got hit? Do you need a Band-aid?"

I shook my head with a light laugh even as I felt the need to cringe from the question, my hair brush against Trick's thick chest. "It didn't really hurt, but it made me really, really scared." That was a severe understatement. Being hit with that arrow was the worst thing I'd ever felt—like drowning in pure terror. I shivered from the memory, and Emmy squeezed me tighter, Jenna's scowl telling me that she didn't believe me one bit.

"I don't think you should hang out with Pitch anymore." Jenna said bluntly, her tone frigid. "He doesn't seem to know how to treat his friends."

I flicked a slightly-narrowed glance at her. "It's not like he did it on purpose. He didn't aim for me; the arrow was a fluke."

Jenna opened her mouth to retort, but stayed quiet, her eyes widening in admiration when she saw who I'd brought along. There was a th-thud as Trick's boots made contact with the floor, and I was deeply appreciative of how my mother slept like the dead, though I wasn't really sure if she'd even hear it or not. Another pair of arms cinched around me as he joined in on the group squeeze, and I stiffened embarrassedly when I felt his lips brush against my neck lighter than a moth's wing. Seriously? I mentally complained. Emmy and Jenna are right freaking there!

Seeming to sense my distress, I felt the sadist smile against my throat as he nuzzled my jaw with his nose, and I tried to elbow him in the stomach to get him to quit it, making him laugh. After much soothing of my sisters and complaining on my part, I was finally released. The sun filtered richly through Emmy's thin curtains as the afternoon settled into evening, giving everything a rich glow, even Jenna's red-rimmed eyes. They bombarded me with questions concerning my health and my time 'asleep' (Did I have any good dreams? Was I still tired? Did I go on a spirit journey? Had I drooled a lot?) until I lovingly threatened to duct-tape their mouths shut.

As much as I wanted to stay and reassure my sisters that I was fine, I wasn't really so sure that I was. The more I thought about it, something deep inside me felt…off. More distanced from everything. It unnerved me, to say the least. When the sky outside deepened into a shade of sapphire so dark it was nearly black, I put Emmy to bed, though it took a little longer than usual since she clutched my fingers tightly in one of her fists, making the bones and tendons crush together painfully until she fell asleep.

Once she was finally out cold, Trick and I clambered out of her window, closing it quietly behind us. His hand enveloped mine as soon as we were off the roof, and he used it to pull me close from the yard-plus distance I had kept between us since I'd been released from the group hug. The warmth of his palm radiated and spread up my arm, soothing my troubled spirit a bit. I turned my face up to the sky, eyeing the stars hungrily as we walked, and longed to fly. My feet left the ground, hovering a few inches over the unruly yards we crossed through on our walk. My free hand drifted up to toy with a tendril of my hair as I pondered the new shadowiness inside me, like a residue left by Pitch's black sand.

"What's the matter, leannán?" he asked quietly when I remained silent, lost in my own thoughts.

"It's nothing." I shook my head, half-smiling. "Don't worry about it."

"Of course I'm going to worry about it!" He snapped, taking me off-guard, and yanked me to a stop beside him. I winced when his hand tightened into a fist around mine, but he didn't seem to notice. The flames in his eyes flickered.

I tugged at my hand, trying to take it back. "Trick, let me go!"

"Why?" He asked, eyes wide with mock innocence, and I was alarmed by the dark purple color of his eyes' fires. Those weren't the eyes I knew and lo— ahem, deeply admired. They were colder, like staring into a black hole, and malicious.

"Because you're hurting me!"

"Am I?" he bellowed. "I'm hurting you? Think again, leannán." I flinched back from him at the tone of his voice, the endearment slipping through his lips like poison. "Think about all of the times where you hurt me by running off with that bed-lurking bastard!"

I shook my head furiously as he drew me closer by my aching arm, tears pricking the corners of my eyes from the pain. "This isn't you, Trick." I said slowly, remembering the darkness that went into him after he brought me back. "It's that nightmare crap inside you. Snap out of it before I make you snap out of it." Silvery flames flicked out at him along my arms in warning, echoing my aggression, and Trick laughed.

"Considering your current state, I think we both know how that would play out." I cried out as blackish flames struck back at my own like lightning. For a moment his eyes flickered back to being his own, though tinged with pain and fear, before darkening again.

"Well isn't this an interesting little development?" A dulcet, familiar voice queried from behind me. I whipped my head around to see Pitch leaning against an elm tree several feet away, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Trick and me. Trick's hand slacked enough for me to slip through and fall into the waiting air with a yelp, and I immediately let the air carry me several feet away from either of them.

I rubbed my wrist agitatedly as Trick turned his fury on Pitch. "Oh, look, the Boogieman has decided to deign us with his presence!"

Pitch rolled his yellowed eyes and melted into the tree's shadow. "I'd almost forgotten how annoying your darker side really was."

"This happened before?" I asked, mildly curious as I continued to warily eye Trick.

"Not in the same circumstance, but essentially…." Pitch raised one shoulder in a shrug, pacing slowly towards me.

"How long does it take for him to go back to normal?" I asked, some of my concern leaking into my voice.

Pitch paused, thinking. "I don't remember."

I fought hard not to roll my eyes in frustration. "Okay…why does the sand make him act this way?"

"I have a couple theories, actually, but something tells me we don't have the time for you to hear all of them." He said quickly, gaze focused on something beyond me. His grayish hand reached out and snatched mine.

I scowled, opening my mouth to ask him why, when a blackish-green ball of fire whizzed past within inches of my face, Pitch having to partially melt into my shadow to avoid being hit. "What the hell?!" I gasped, turning as if to look back.

"Face forward and run!" Pitch, tightening his hold on my hand, jerked me forward, the two of us sprint-stumbling towards the abyssal shadow of the tree he'd leaned against earlier. More awful-hued fireballs rained on us from above and behind, but the pace Pitch kept me at prevented me from looking to see where they were coming from.

The shadows seemed to stretch out little dark hands to Pitch, as though to aid him. He looped an arm around my waist and dove towards the deepest part of the shadow, dragging me down with him.

A/N: This seems like a good stopping point. I apologize again for the ridiculous wait you've all suffered through. Please review!