It is going to rain.

Pitch watched as the clouds darken and feel as the air becomes damp. The droplets start out small and numerous but slowly morph until they're larger, more defined, splashing through the newly forming puddles in the streets of Burgess.

He always loved rain, or, to be more precise, the thunder and lightning that commonly accompanied it. The rush of fear from the sheer loudness of the sudden thunderclaps had always been welcome, along with the temporarily blinding crash of brightness that could light the dark for just barely long enough to give a child a glimpse of something horrible lurking within the confines of their bedroom before plunging them once more into darkness.

So it came as quite the surprise to Pitch and even more a surprise to the child in the room with him when he jumped in terror at the thunderclap and curled in on himself as another shot of lightning made itself known, warning that another loud bang was soon to come.

Monty, who had at first laughed in relief that the Bogeyman was no longer threatening him, was no longer amused. He'd once been afraid of thunder and lightning himself, although he'd grown out of it by this point. Watching as Pitch Black himself cowered in a corner, trying to keep his composure and failing poorly, he could sympathize. He almost wanted to offer him comfort, but was far too confused by the idea of the Bogeyman being afraid of a thunderstorm to act.

Pitch could not find it in himself to fully understand it, either. He knew that he'd been getting sudden and unexplained attacks of fear, but to have it happen with this intensity was far too overwhelming for him to deal with. He wasn't prepared. Without the fearlings, without Kozmotis, his mind was vulnerable and unprotected from the raw intake of the fears and memories of fear that he got from the children. Instead of being able to healthily absorb the fear at a rate that pleased him, it was being violently thrown at him without giving him any time to digest.

It was just too much for him alone.

"Uh..." Monty gathered the things that had fallen off his desk just a few minutes before and placed them messily on his bed without looking away from Pitch for more than a glance at what he was grabbing. He wanted to say something, but wasn't completely sure what until he said it. "I was afraid of thunderstorms. too."

The shadowy figure glared at the boy in resentment from his scrunched position on the floor. "You dare talk down on me? I am the Bo-" A loud boom of thunder interrupted his words, and he opted for not finishing the sentence, instead freezing in fear.

The kid pushed up his red glasses and hopped onto the edge of the bed, watching Pitch in silence for a bit longer before continuing his previous train of thought. "I'm not talking down. I-I think it's okay to be scared. So...are you looking for Jack to get revenge on him? Are you going to get the information out of me and then kill me?"

Startlingly, Pitch laughed at Monty's conclusion, genuinely relieved at his dark assumption of Pitch's personality. At least he still thought of him as being terrible enough to kill him, despite the boy having seen him scared out of his wits. "Oh, wouldn't that be fun. Unfortunately, I'm no longer in the business of killing. I am here for information, but my revenge on Jack will have to wait until this-" A flash of lightning and the lamp in the room goes out. "...problem is resolved."

"Wait, you think Jack can help? I get scared all the time and...I dunno. Having fun gives me courage."

"Yes, exactly. Tell me where he is." Pitch stood, still shaking from having been so startled, but watching Monty intently, anticipating the information.

"I dunno, I haven't seen him since it snowed last. Why would I know?" He shrugged defensively.

Another crash of thunder incited Pitch to move quickly, just wanting to leave. He rushed forward to grab Monty's shoulder before sinking into the darkness with him, bringing them directly to his lair and panting in relief from the the wave of fear that had just passed through. Monty had shouted in surprise and anxiety when they landed, jumping away from the Bogeyman.

"Whoa! Not cool!"

Pitch brushed himself off and straightened, acting extra dignified to make up for his previous episode. "This is my lair. You're going to be staying here until I can figure out how you're going to help me find Jack."

Monty made a whiny noise. "But I have school tomorrow, mom's not gonna be happy..."

Pitch snarled, angry that the kid didn't seem to understand the gravity the situation held. "If Jack is without the moon and without the snow for too long-." He grabbed Monty by his shirt to emphasize his point. "He is going to die for good. This is a matter of life and death." He let go, standing back up straight but never giving up his stern expression. "Understand?"

Not much else to do, Monty gulped and nodded, but tugged Pitch's sleeve as the shadow man had begun to turn away. "Why me?"

"It isn't just you. We're going to need Jamie." Pulling his arm away from the boy, Pitch stared up at the ceiling of the cave as he considered the fact that it was going to be stormy when he talked to Jamie as well, and he dreaded it. He dreaded more embarrassment and he dreaded being overwhelmed by fear. Of all people, he was supposed to have a handle on it, always.

"I'll go." The scrawny boy offered in sympathy for the dark spirit's plight. "If you drop me off and then come back when we're ready to go...does it even work like that? Can you do that?"

Pitch considered this for a moment, surprised at the the kid's kindness being directed at him. Without another word, Monty fell into the dark once more, landing himself in Jamie's room.

There was an uncomfortable need buried somewhere in Jack's mind. The fearlings may be locked deep, but that didn't prevent them from grasping onto whatever they could reach. Mostly, they yearned for fear. Jack, no matter how afraid of losing himself he got, had only one fear, and it was not enough to feed an army of fearlings. They needed more, so they took more. Their hunger drove them out of their slumber to reach into Jack's mind twisting his every thought to anxiety, causing every memory to corrupt with terror as the dark creatures ravaged his mind for more.

He felt like he was melting. Keeping his body pressed to the ice helped, but only a bit. He missed the wind and the moon and playing. He just...missed everything. He longed for it. He felt like his existence was fading away, like he was becoming invisible, even to himself.

He wasn't going to last forever like this. As he lay, face down into the bed of dark ice he'd created for himself, he wondered how much longer he had before he lost the fight against fear.

Not long now.