A/N: Ugh, what a late update. -_- Sorry peeps. Ah well, reviews!
fantasyinfinity: hOLD UP - a sequel? When I read that you're gonna do a sequel for this I kinda just - :) :3 :o :O :D :DDDDD Lol I can tell that Amara's relationship with Jack is gonna be being something similar to or worse than the way Jack is with Bunny xD I can see how she and Pitch can relate to each other more than Amara does with the others.
Glow in the dark candy rocks? I didn't even know those things exist.. glowing food OvO
Yeahyeah my friend, there WILL be a sequel, I gurantee it. Glad to see your enthusiasm! As for the candy rocks, those things actually exist. You won't believe the crazee shit you can find around here in America. XD
PandaPuppet: aaaaaaaaah i want something really cute like amara holding onto his cape and saying crap abouut being scared and aaaaaaaaaaa
Don't worry, there'll be some form of fluff in this chapter between Amara and Pitch. ;) And thanks for the review, follow, and favorite! Hope you can stick with me! :D
BookwormBri: Ooooooo I can't wait to see how Pitch and Amara's conversation goes!
Hehe, well, you'll see what you shall see in this chapter!
prettykitty luvs u: That was soooooo AWESOME! She slapped him. Good Amara :) Aw... I feel so bad for Pitch. Poor guy :( Me and my parents watched Rotg and we loved the whole fim. And my lil bro liked Pitch the best and when I asked him why did he like the bad guy he simply stated that I wont understand :-) Hehehehe... anyway! Update soon dear
Yep, typical Amara last chapter. XD Yeah, you just gotta feel for the guy. When there's the villain, there has to be the past. And that past might possibly make you cry out your eyes for the guy. DX
InspectorZebra: Aww... Bunny care for Pitch and Amara! Do Pitch would share his past with Amara volontary?
Well, what'll happen in their conversation, you just gotta read and find out. ;p
~Chapter Twenty-Two~
Amara spits out the seventeenth glow in the dark candy rock behind her shoulder, seeing the blue luminescent trail of the candy that she created. She feels the weight of the candy in her bag. Uh-oh, only about fifteen more she could guess that's less. Maybe wandering off into the darkness, wasn't her brightest idea yet. Oh well. The overall idea of running away from home in the first place wasn't such a bright idea, and look where that left her.
Thinking of the thought of home made Amara feel homesick and sad to her stomach at the same time. She must've made her parents worried sick, devestated. The loss of May already put the toll on them—now that Amara is stuck down in some hole, they have no absolute idea where she is, or if she's safe or not.
Amara grits the candy rock in her mouth, spitting it out behind her back. Her parents didn't deserved that. She shouldn't had placed that burden and emotional baggage upon them by running away. That isn't the way of dealing with her emotions and loss. The red head girl sighs, digging her hand into the bag for another candy rock. If she does manage to get out of here, she'll make it up. Somehow…
As the red head continues to wander around more, the candy rocks in the plastic bag grows smaller, and smaller, until she was only down to one. Amara glances back, seeing the faint glowing trail of the candy rocks. She looks ahead of the pitch black darkness, awaiting her. A shiver passes through the girl, recalling the memory of those 'Nightmares' as Pitch called them, that trapped her in the dark. They were creepy as hell...yet they knew so much. Too much.
I'll just walk off a little more, not too far, Amara tells herself in reassurance, walking off from the sight of the trail. Then if I can't find him, I'll just retrace my steps. No big. But Amara can feel the uncertainty in her mind, and tries to shake it off. Finally she yells, "Pitch!" This echos off in the darkness, which bounced off pretty far. Amara takes another gulp. "Pitch! Boogerman! Come on out!" She shouts, walking around.
After a few minutes of prowling around, Amara receives no sign of the pale, slick haired brunette, let alone that he even bothers to show up. Sighing in frustration, she stomps her foot. "Fine!" She huffs, crossing her arms, her eyes narrowed. The pure darkness that she is in still unsettled her, making Amara feel as if she were blind. "Might as well stay down here, scaredy cat!"
Spinning on her heel, she expected to see the glowing trail. No! I don't see it anymore! Amara thought in alarm, her heart beating faster. She clasps her hands, wide-eyed with fear. Her knees buckle, her breath turning to pants. The darkness that Amara is in right now, reminded her way too much of when she was knocked out in the freak car crash that she and her family were in.
She was in darkness, unconscious but aware at the same time. She could feel the paramedics strapping her to the trolley and boarding her into the car. She could hear the wails of the sirens, the murmuring of the doctors. It was absolutely freaky, the fact that she was knocked out but couldn't say anything like, 'What happened?' or 'Where's my family?' Amara was trapped in some kind of darkness from her car crash injuries. Now she feels as if she was reliving it.
"Pitch?" she calls out, her voice shaky. "Anyone? Please help me," she breathes out, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She never felt this scared and panicked before. It's unnerving.
No answer. But of course.
Grasping her arms, Amara continues to walk blindly in the darkness. I hope I don't fall down anywhere...As she is walking, she sees some kind of warm, bright glow in the far distance of the darkness. Without any thought, Amara runs straight to it. As she runs closer towards it, her eyes make out the glow of a fire. What would a fire be doing down here? Amara briefly wonders. She stops, a couple of feet away she sees a silhouette sitting near the small hearth. Her blue eyes squinted, she quietly approaches the figure. Now directly behind the person, Amara could make out spiky hair. Hey, it's Pitch! She thought, lightening up.
Peering over his shoulder, she sees in his pale grey hands a golden locket, a frayed, faint, and barely visible picture of a person. Amara frowns to herself, wondering what would Pitch be doing in this part of the cave with this locket. She announces, "Sup."
At first, there is no reaction from Pitch. Without turning around he says plainly, "You shouldn't had came to these deep parts of the cave."
"Whatever. I do what I want, fool," Amara replies, rolling her eyes, getting her snarkiness back now that she found Pitch. Not waiting for his consent, she plops down next to him. An uneasy feeling goes through Amara. One thing she could tell for sure, he is out of sorts, hardly looking of himself. Eyes red-rimmed and shiny, cheeks stained with tears...he was crying. Woah.
Amara, as any other kid, found it unnerving for any adult to be, well, crying. Grown-ups are the big people, the ones in charge. They make everything okay and in order. They reassure. But when they break, there's something definitely wrong. Amara then remembered the times when her parents were mourning after May's death. They had many restless nights, often having arguments at night time with each other.
Amara's parents, two stable and orderly people in her life, were broken during May's stay at the hospital and the aftermath of her death. It was overwhelming to all of them. Unsure, Amara taps Pitch lightly. "C'mon," she says softly. "Let's go...I didn't come all the way here for nothing."
No reaction. Pitch just continues to stare blankly at the locket, the flickering shadows of the fire making his expression seem dark and stormy.
Something strikes Amara. She recognizes that kind of stare anywhere. It was the stare of a mourning family member. The stare of a father's longing love for his child. The stare of deep sadness.
She saw this stare from her father herself. Countless nights after...her death, he would sit at the kitchen table, staring blankly off at pictures of May in a picture book, silently crying. Amara remembered her mourning. She didn't know how to handle it. Many nights she stared aimlessly at her sister's forever empty room, crying herself to sleep sometimes. Maybe all the time. It was the lowest point of time for her family…
"That's your daughter," Amara declares without any other thought. It was a plausible explanation. It isn't something that Amara knew—it's just something that she knew as a daughter herself.
Pitch turns sharply to Amara, his first ever reaction to her presence. "How would you know?" he asks hollowly, dark bags under his eyes.
Amara shrugs, looking into the small fire in front of them. "I'm a daughter myself, y'know. I know that look on your face anywhere. That girl is obviously your daughter." She says, pointing at the locket in Pitch's hand. "What...what happened to her?"
Pitch snaps it shut. "She's not dead."
"Oh."
A moment of silence takes up their short conversation. Amara scrapes the dirt under her foot, no knowing what to say now. She'll be pushing it. This seemed something pretty sensitive to her snarky aqauintance. She continues, curious pressing her thoughts, "So, if she's still alive, where is she now? Did...did something happen between you guys?"
"Aren't you quite the good guesser," Pitch says dryly, taking more interest by looking in the fire.
Amara harrumphs, crossing her arms. "Spill it out. It's not good holding this kind of shit in. Well, not that kind of shit." Amara gives out a small laugh. "Just...it's just that you should tell someone your problems."
Pitch looks her straight in the eye, his golden eyes seeming dull and lifeless now. "And how would a child like you think that you can understand me?"
"Cuz I can. I loss a family member too."
The boogeyman then remembers the news that Tooth told him and the Guardians of the death of her sister. So I guess the child does know a thing or two. He thought stalely.
"She was a great sister," Amara continues. "She gave me a family. A home. A future. Parents. She made me feel...not alone anymore." The redhead explains, twisting her fingers. "But when she had to go to the hospital because of this bleeding in her head...I became desperate. I put all of my faith and hope in, well, Santa, in hopes that maybe he'll grant my wish."
Pitch raises an eyebrow. "And what made you think that he'll be able to grant your wish?"
Amara shrugs, twisting a lock of her red hair. "Well, I used to be under foster care, since my mom couldn't take care of me anymore. It doesn't matter anyway, I hardly even remember her. I never stayed with one family. I kept on moving all around the place. I longed for a family that, actually wants me to stay with them. I even wrote a letter to Santa about it for Christmas when I was nine."
Pitch scoffs at this, Amara glaring at him. "And it worked for some crazy reason. After that, when I went under May's family." A smile comes across Amara's face, catching the Nightmare King off guard.
"She was the sister I never had. Thanks to May, her parents adopted me…I was so happy. I got my family, like I wrote to Santa."
"What made you think that he did it?" Pitch asks incredulously.
"I dunno...I just, knew. But that was pretty stupid," Amara says, shaking her head, the same usually angry expression replacing her faint smile. "I thought that he'll help me again when May was in the hospital. I wrote to him about it. I visited countless malls asking him about it. But it didn't matter." Amara bites her lips, feeling that her eyes is watering.
"I knew...that...it was the end for May. She wasn't going to stay past Christmas. Her injury affected her so much that it was too late. No doctors could help her at that point. It was no fair, is what I thought. I thought that I could have my family and happiness forever." A tear escapes her eye, with her immediately wiping it away. A twinge of sympathy comes across Pitch.
"So, I went to another mall, straight to those cheap ass dress up Santas one last time. I asked him if he could come to the hospital to visit May, to bring her presents before she...you know. He said yes. Yes to my face." Amara's fists ball up in anger, her face flushing red. "I went to the hospital, promising May that he was coming. He never came. He never did…" More tears roll down her face, shedded from anger and bitterness.
"She died, with that stupid Santa never coming. He lied to me. He failed me. After her death...I just felt as if I had to blame someone. I blamed some fake magical figure." Amara laughs bitterly, a half-wrung smile on her face. Pitch listens quietly, pity and sympathy building up. "I just...grew up. It was my defense mechanism. I just realized how fake, cheap, and hypocrital that these figures were."
Amara looks up to Pitch, respect and gladness in her eyes. "I heard some of the things you said while I was knocked out," she says, Pitch taken aback. "They...they really spoke to me. Those were the words that were exactly on my mind when I gave up my belief. I can relate to you Pitch...because...I believe in you."
Pitch clutches his heart. "That was...the bloody first time I hear that come out of a child's mouth without them screaming or running away from me in terror," he admits, bug-eyed. As weak as it was, he was touched by this.
The girl gives a half-hearted smile. "Har-de-har-har, I'm so lucky,"
"But you are." Pitch agrees, nodding his head, a half smile on his face as well.
"Yet...it's true. I believe in you," Amara declares, her sentence stronger and more confident this time. "And, if you're really this 'boogeyman' like you call yourself, well, I understand your job, your purpose." Amara says thoughtfully. "When there's that childhood happiness, there must also be that fear. To teach children, to, protect them in a way.
"You teach kids how to be afraid...so that they can have courage and bravery. Without fear...well, what kind of world will we live in?"
A small gasp escapes Pitch, wetness on his cheek again. Oh great, is he actually crying? Pitch groans, wiping away as hard as he could. Pathetic, Pitch. He quietly reprimanded himself.
Amara gives out a real laugh, sticking out her tongue. "I won't let you forget that."
"Touching."
"I know right?" Amara gives a playful smirk at Pitch. "Yeah...and I like your job best since...well, its the most realistic yet. You're kinda mixing in some grown-up stuff in childhood. And that's important."
"When you put it that way, you make me sound important."
"But it is."
"Hm...I think I would like to see it that way."
"Well I am pretty damn smart to see it that way." Amara says smiling smugly. "So...thanks Pitch. For taking that job."
"Oh, you don't need to thank me anymore."
Amara rolls her eyes, extending her hand. "So...can we go back? To them?"
Pitch studies her open, welcoming hand for a moment. He takes it, standing up, a small smile on his face. "But of course. I'm not a coward, afterall." They start walking off, and a memory comes to his mind. And that was the memory of his dear Emily Jane and him walking through their homeland's meadows, hand in hand.
A/N: Yeah man...FEEL TRIP! T^T