No! Please no! This can't be happening! Not to them, please! This wasn't supposed to happen! Jack screamed into the icy waters of the lake, but to no avail. He had been weak. He had been useless. He had been unable to save even one child from the depths and now it was too late. They were gone, and nothing, nothing, could bring them back.

And suddenly the world was torn apart and everything dissolved into a riot of half-focused images and unintelligible sounds. Slowly a rage-filled voice became audible over the cacophony, and Jack could make out someone snarling his name. "-Jack Frost, do you understand me? He is MINE!"

Jack jerked into wakefulness, completely disoriented. He opened his eyes to see Pitch standing next to him, glaring poisonously at a fistful of black sand that was trickling through his fingers. "Pitch?"

The boogeyman flinched and turned wide yellow eyes on him for a split second, before suddenly vanishing.

"Wha-" Jack began, before the memories of the nightmare came flooding back and the image of Jamie's blankly staring eyes struck Jack like a blow to the stomach. He gasped and clung to his branch like a drowning man would cling to a piece of driftwood. No, not the kids, Jack thought, gulping against the nausea rising in his throat and blinking back the tears burning in his eyes. I failed them. I'm supposed to look after them!

The last of the sleep that had fogged his mind finally cleared away and it occurred to Jack that he wasn't in the lake, and there weren't any kids around. It had just been a nightmare. Just a bad dream, right? Jamie and Sophie and everyone, they were all still alive. No one had drowned. It was okay. He clutched the tree for a few moments longer, until his arms finally stopped shaking and his breathing slowed from frantic panting to something more manageable. It was okay, he told himself.

He had to go see the kids. Right now. It was the middle of the night, they would be asleep, but he had to at least make sure they were safe in their beds. He had to wash away the image of those small, still bodies out of his brain.

Only after Jack had checked up on all the kids in Burgess and made each one of their windows a work of art with his frost did he finally start to calm down. It was okay. They were all fine. He was tempted to go wake Jamie up and talk with the kid, but he wasn't sure about his control yet and was pretty sure that abruptly waking Jamie to cling to and cry at would freak the kid out a little. He'd see Jamie in the morning, once he was sure he could meet him with a smile.

In the meantime, though, he had to do something. He was still tingling with nervous energy. He wound up wandering aimlessly, until he finally found himself standing at the edge of the ice of his lake. The one he had been born again from. The one he had drowned in.

Strangely, the sight of it in the predawn light was calming, reassuring. This wasn't the place where he had failed. This was where he had triumphed. This was where he had saved his sister. This was where he had become a Guardian. This was where Pitch had been defeated.

Pitch. The boogeyman had finally resurfaced in his thoughts. What had he been doing there? Well, obviously, he was the Nightmare King, it made sense that he had been around for Jack's worst nightmare. But why? Jack had been under the impression that they were friends of a sort. Had he suffered a relapse? Was this revenge? But surely Pitch would have stuck around to gloat if that were the case. The look he had given Jack had been odd: surprised, almost stricken. And he had been yelling something. Something about Jack being his? What did that even mean?

A faint chill ran down Jack's spine and he knelt suddenly by the lake, swiping a hand over the ice. It smoothed to a mirror-fine sheen, showing his reflection staring back at him. White hair, blue eyes, pale skin, check. No sign of black or yellow, no nightmare sand coiled around his neck. Okay, so he wasn't corrupted or anything, probably. Maybe Pitch hadn't been there? Had he imagined it?

Well, he'd deal with that later, or something. It didn't matter too much right now. The sky was getting lighter now, the sun rising to chase away the night. He still wasn't feeling quite his usual peppy self, and the kids would be getting up soon. He didn't want to miss spending a fun Saturday with them due to being gloomy, so he'd have to calm down and let this go.

Jack stepped onto the ice and pushed off with his foot, gliding effortlessly across the lake. As he swooped and zipped over the frozen surface, he felt the tension that had built up inside him start to slowly bleed away. He loved skating. It was like flying, but different at the same time. There was just him and the ice and the fast, fluid movements. He felt his heart lift as he leapt into a pirouette and landed gracefully once more on the ice. Everything was right with the world again. The sun was shining, the kids were fine, and Jack was having fun.

"Jack."

Aaaaand then Pitch decided to show up. Jack whirled to face the boogeyman, not sure what to expect. The tall man jerkily raised his open hands, standing in a stiff posture that was unlike his usual languid ease. He didn't meet Jack's eyes. He almost looked ashamed. The apology was still a bit of a shock, though. So a Nightmare had gotten away from him? Well, Jack had seen the creatures act of their own accord, even against Pitch before, so it wasn't impossible… Was that the black sand he had seen before?

Now Pitch was trying to run away, without even letting him respond. Typical. Jack wasn't about to let all of his questions go unanswered, though. "Hey. First, mind telling me what was the deal with the 'mine!' bit?"

"Obviously I'm the only one allowed to frighten you, Jack. I cannot abide the thought of someone else feasting on your fear. That's my job."

Oh. That dropped things into place. Pitch seemed to see Jack as his the same way he saw Sara as his. The boogeyman had come across something that he found interesting and laid claim to it, and heaven help anyone who harmed something that was his. That was almost sweet, in a creepy sort of way. Hopefully Pitch wasn't planning on stuffing him in a cage for safekeeping anytime soon, though. "That's pretty creepy, you know."

"I'm supposed to be creepy. It's part of the job description."

Well, no sense in letting the guy think Jack was going to hate him forever. Jack launched back into the teasing that had become customary between them, and he could actually see Pitch relax. Yeah, everything was back to normal now. Jack was even in a good enough mood to offer to teach Pitch how to skate, and he could have sworn there was a split second where Pitch actually wanted to take him up on it. But then the boogeyman lapsed back into his usual prickly refusal. Jack didn't understand why Pitch valued his reputation over fun all the time, but he didn't understand a lot about the boogeyman, really. Although he liked to think that he knew a bit more now.

Author's Note- Jeez, Jack, you're a complicated dude. Pitch is easy to write- he's a self-centered jerk. But you... Ergh, I hope I kept you in character. Drama is hard. :C We should see a return to the snark now, though, so it's all good.