Ch. 23- March to Early August

A/N- This chapter isn't as super exciting as I hoped it would be, but it does help to further the plot a long nicely. I'm hoping that our next installment will have some more ground breaking developments that I couldn't fit into this one. Sorry for the wait, though! I'm going to do my best to keep updates regular and frequent, but since I'm going to school, working, and planning my wedding, I'm not sure how much expendable time I'll have. This story remains my one true love and ideal way to spend my time/energy, so I'm pretty sure I'll carve out the time needed. =)

Disclaimer- I'll just let you guys know when I've got the rights to TNBC, okay? Spoiler Alert- That will never happen. =)

March-May

The screaming would sometimes go on for hours, depending on the severity. Sally was by no means unfamiliar or uncomfortable with the sound of shrieking and never had been, but there was something so unsettling about Lotte's.

For as long as Sally had been with the Prices, Lotte had always been a sound sleeper, especially in comparison to her brother. Often, she'd be fast asleep before her head even hit the pillow, whereas Alistair usually needed a story or song to drift off to. But neither child ever had the problem of night terrors- until recently.

Of course, the source of these wasn't exactly a mystery to anyone concerned. The end of February and the beginning of March had seen an influx in the spider population, as well as an increase in their daring behavior. They now roamed the town and grounds rather freely, barely perturbed by any sort of repellent put in place. Their hunger had reached a critical point and more and more Easter Town citizens began to go missing. Some, even, were being attacked and carted off in the broad light of day.

Unsurprisingly to Sally and her employers, the militia was doing seldom little to stop any of it, save for keeping the downtown area enclosed by the fortress safe, and this was probably because Septimus' current living quarters were located within. It also wasn't hard to deduce why this was happening- Septimus was continuing to use the spiders to his advantage, to make the citizens so afraid and desperate and dire that they would acquiesce to any of his demands to allegedly help clear the town. No matter how ineffective the militia was proving to be, Easter Town was too helpless to refuse their services. To many, this was their last hope.

But for Sally and the Prices, there was little to no hope at all. Acting out too boldly to any of Septimus' plans would mean risking the lives of the children. The Vampire Lord, it seemed, had been especially adept at pin-pointing their weak-spot and, thus, had them in a rather tight chokehold. He was much cleverer than Sally had previously thought and that knowledge alone frightened her.

Nevertheless, she was determined to stay strong for the sake of the children. Someone had to soothe Lotte's screams, after all, and she was getting rather adept at doing it in a timely fashion. Cuddling her and petting her head seemed to do the trick, and when she finally managed to get her back to sleep from the most recent nightmare, Sally crept out of the room and back downstairs. There would be a pseudo sense of peace, at least for the rest of this night in particular.

She then joined the Prices in the living room, where Augusta kept herself busy knitting (and, presumably, her mind off the fact that her daughter was in such pain) and Lionel appeared to be studying the most recent town newspaper they had received. It was at least a week old, thanks to their location so far from town and from the various delivery agents being too afraid to venture out that way if it looked too treacherous. Still, the side that Sally could see stood as testament to the most recent political events- propaganda in favor of Lord Septimus' policies as a leader and acting head of Easter Town, propaganda against Jack Skellington -most of which called him the 'The King of Rotten Pumpkins' and depicted him sitting in a patch of mildewed, decaying pumpkins with a dunce crown and a bent, wooden scepter-, and a front headline about the holiday festivities being postponed in St. Patrick's Day town due to unexpected swarms of blood-sucking bats.

It wasn't hard to see that Septimus was entertaining plans of holiday-wide dominance and that no town would be spared from similar treatment.

"Did she go down alright?" Augusta asked, clearly fighting to maintain her chipper attitude despite it all.

Sally nodded. "It took some doing, as usual, but we managed."

Augusta and Lionel were then silent a moment, and Sally somehow knew it was a mutual, simultaneous effort in favor of having to tell her something drastic. She looked between both of them expectantly, wondering when it was going to be broken.

"Sally," Augusta began, tentatively. "Lionel and I have been talking."

Her blue eyes then fluttered towards him, as if to cue his line. Clearly, this had been rehearsed and planned by them both. Lionel pretended, only for a moment, to be encumbered by his newspaper but he eventually gave it up when neither woman's gaze would leave him.

"Yes, that's correct Miss Stitches. We have been talking…about the children, specifically."

Sally's eyes widened a little, but she was too eager for an explanation to interrupt.

"We've decided it's become too dangerous for them here." he continued. "The both of us feel the wisest plan of action is to relocate them to the inner town."

The governess was unable to speak for a moment, too confused and taken back to create any coherent thoughts, much less say them aloud.

"We would, of course, like for you to go with them," Augusta added. "We've already arranged to purchase a flat for you all. We promise there will be plenty of room for the three of you, and I can have it decorated and furnished for when you all arrive."

Despite Augusta's best efforts to derail Sally towards the more pleasant aspect of this idea, she could not part herself from the sheer absurdity of it all.

"Wait…they can't- they shouldn't be away from you both! You can't just uproot them like this at a moment's notice! Can't you see they're both traumatized enough as it is? How much worse do you think it'll be for them if they're taken away from their parents?"

"It's not safe here, Miss Stitches," Lionel reiterated firmly. "Or have you not had a glance outside, lately? The children can't so much step foot out there without risking their lives. At the very least, they'll be able to get some fresh air without the threat of being eaten. You and I both know the militia won't let any of those creatures get close to their beloved Lord Belvoir. As ironic as it seems, the closer the children are to him, the safer they are."

"And speaking of which, what will he make of all of this? Have you thought about that?"

"I don't think he'll mind," came Augusta's meek voice. "We're not directly opposing him in any way, after all."

Lionel nodded. "He has far more important things to concern himself with, like taking complete control of the holidays."

Sally began to protest again, but Lionel was having none of it.

"I'm afraid this isn't up for discussion. The children are going downtown and you will either accompany them or we will find a place to house them- that, alone, is up to you."

He swiftly returned to his paper, indicating rather blatantly that anything Sally said from then on would be ignored. She desperately turned to Augusta, hoping there would some opening for an appeal to reason, but there was none at all. Augusta had refocused on her sewing and seemed to be fighting not to look back at her.

The peaceful silence of her solemn afternoon was broken by an unexpected knock at the door.

She was startled when she first heard it, then a bit indignant, then slightly frightened. Who would be requesting a visit and why? Why did they have to choose the one time of day she got alone, when her husband was away doing who-knew-what?

She almost didn't answer it at all, but a dangerously powerful wave of curiosity got the better of her.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Clearwater."

The opened door revealed none other than the skeleton king, looking extremely down-trodden and apologetic with an array of dying flowers clutched to his chest. Exceedingly skeptical, she could think of nothing to say aside from,

"Is there something I can do for you, your majesty?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," he replied with a nod. "I was hoping you could grant me just a moment of your time."

She didn't have the heart to turn him away, and so she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in to what small space the tumble-down shack had to offer. The two then seated themselves on opposite sides of the cramped living room, Jack in a rotting wooden chair and Dolores on the equally as dog-eared couch, and she purposefully neglected to offer him a beverage as she had none anyway and wanted to get his visit over with as soon as possible.

"First and foremost," he began, extending the unattractive arrangement to her. "I want to offer my most sincere apologies."

Dolores was neither ignorant nor obtuse. She knew better than to think that the skeleton was being insincere. At the same time, however, she was tired and hurt and furious and he was an easy target.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Jack blinked. "I…I don't under-"

"Do you think an apology and hideous bouquetis supposed to make up for everything? For the fact that my sisters abandoned me? That I'm stuck here in this awful place with an abusive, domineering husband that I didn't want in the first place, all because you couldn't be bothered to take more preventive measures? What about the fact that I turn into a dog every time there's a full moon? Is an apology supposed to right all of that?"

"Absolutely not!" he quickly corrected her, his voiced pained. "I entertain no delusions of that, I promise you."

"Well, I'm not about to just forgive you," she spat. "If hadn't been for your laziness, I wouldn't be in this situation right now."

He nodded fervently. "I couldn't agree more, Mrs. Clearwater. I acknowledge this as yet another one of my huge mistakes."

She crossed her arms over her chest in frustrated indignation. It was cathartic to yell at him, despite the fact that he was a King, despite the fact that he was clearly apologetic and remorseful for what had happened, despite the fact that he seemed like a well-meaning skeleton at the heart of things. It probably wasn't fair that his evident remorse was partially what spurred her on, but then again, it probably wasn't fair that she had been turned into a monster.

"I honestly don't know why you're here," she said after a time. "I don't know what in the world you hoped you would accomplish."

"Actually…I had hoped I could help you somehow."

She rounded on him, her eyes widened in disbelief. "And how do you expect to do that?"

Jack then pulled out a folded up piece of paper from his inner pocket. As he opened it he said, "If you'll bear with me, Mrs. Clearwater, I have a few ideas."

Somewhat unconsciously, Dolores scooted closer to the edge of the sofa to get a better look at his list. She couldn't even begin to imagine what would be within his power to accomplish that might actually benefit her.

"Escape?"

"Not possible," she replied, unimpressed. "Besides, I've already given the matter plenty of thought. If I go to another part of town, he'll just track me and take me back. I can't go to another town completely, I'm a werewolf. I'd just be considered a public menace and thrown back in here within a short matter of time. Anyway, there's also the rather complicated matter of my pregnancy."

Jack seemed to forget about the list entirely.

"You're pregnant?"

"Four weeks along, or so I'm told."

He was clearly conflicted, perhaps wondering whether he should offer his congratulations or condolences. Dolores loudly cleared her throat, eager for him to continue.

Brought out of his reverie, he continued onward. "What if I was to contain Horace? A cage? An enchanted lock of some kind?"

She contemplated the thought for a moment, gradually realizing that he might have actually come upon a workable idea.

"If there was some way I could control him…" she said slowly. "Some way I could bind him and force him to obey whatever I told him to do…he likes to push me around, but I think with the right device I might be able to turn the tables on him."

Jack smiled, pleased that he had arrived at a plausible scenario.

"I'll have a talk with the doctor," he said. "The witch sisters too. One of them is bound to come up with something that could allow you that power over him. Heaven knows he deserves it any case."

"It will hardly make up for what has happened," she was sure to remind him. "But, at the very least, I may regain some semblance of independence and dignity."

Jack nodded, and then exhaled rather generously as though to indicate relief as he stood from the chair.

"I'm glad we could reach a workable compromise, Mrs. Clearwater. I'll be sure to keep you in touch with any developments."

She nodded, gave him a wan smile, and then ushered him out as politely as possible.

At the very least, her alone time became that much more enjoyable with the knowledge that she would soon gain the upper-hand.

Lounging in the apartment with a card game while the warm spring air filtered in through the windows would have constituted for a pleasant evening, if it hadn't been for the wailing. True, it was somewhat muffled by the walls in between, but that didn't lessen the annoyance by much.

"I'm really sorry, you guys," Seraphina sheepishly apologized to her two playmates for what had to have been the 10th time that evening. "If there was something I could do to stop it, I would, but usually with this sort of thing you just have to let her ride it out. Or pass out in exhaustion. That does happen sometimes."

Victor, being able to tell how truly concerned Seraphina was despite her efforts to repress it, gave her a sympathetic smile.

"We've already told you it's perfectly alright. And I know your mother will be just fine, she just needs the proper amount of time to grieve."

Ziggy, on the other hand, dramatically rolled her eyes and flicked a bit of the ash off the end of her cigarette in disgust.

"I don't get why she's so choked up about this," she scoffed. "They've been livin' apart for five months now and it's not like he ever gave a damn about it, anyway. Personally, I'd be surprised the divorce papers came this late."

Victor sent the mummy a glare of disapproval for being so insensitive, but she pretended she didn't see it. Seraphina, meanwhile, nodded her head in agreement.

"Yes, I know," she said with a sigh. "But mama's never been exactly reasonable about things. I guess I come by that trait honestly."

Because Seraphina was staring primarily down at the table, she didn't see Ziggy nod her head in annoyed agreement or Victor unconsciously smile at her, slightly endeared. That was perhaps for the best of everyone involved.

"Well, this has just been a charmin' evening so far and I'd just love to stay and shoot the breeze with the accompaniment of your mother's angst, but I gotta go get some fresh air. See you kids around."

Ziggy said this as she rose from the table, grabbed her purse and keys, and made her hasty way to and out the door. Victor felt like that development had been rather imminent, given her growing irritation with the situation as a whole.

But noticing that his friend across the table was pretty apathetic to the whole thing and seemed to be on another planet, mentally, his attention soon refocused itself.

"Is everything alright, Sera?" he asked softly. "You haven't quite been yourself lately. You seem distracted…er- more than you usually are, that is."

She shook her head and looked at him in awe, as though having just snapped out of trance.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm perfectly fine! Don't you worry about little ol' me."

Her suddenly chipper tone was nothing if not obviously forced and fabricated. This was furthered by the fact that she then got up and began tending to the dishes, as her nervous tic happened to be making herself sporadically busy.

"To be perfectly frank, I think we've been friends too long for us to pretend that I believe you now."

That slowed Seraphina's movements, if only marginally.

"Come now," he continued. "Tell me what's really bothering you."

She sighed, long and deep, preparing to access the more negative part of herself that she abhorred so much.

"Things have just been…very stressful lately…"

It was indisputably the understatement of the year, and they both knew it.

"Work has been insane, as you know. Jack's unpopularity is through the roof. We get more angry calls and letters every day than I know what to do with, not to mention that it's putting him in an impossibly sour mood. After all of that, I have to come home and deal with…that."

She flailed her arm in the general direction of her mother's bedroom while Victor rose to try a casual lean on the counter in front of her.

"I just…feel like tearing my hair out sometimes, you know?" she said rather maniacally, tugging on fistfuls of her thick black hair to reinforce the point.

He placed a tentative hand on her arm in an effort to bring in some calm.

"There's no need for that, I assure you. I'm sure things will straighten out soon enough."

She shook her head, forcing a smile. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

He sighed and allowed her to continue on with her dish-cleaning unhindered while he took a moment to ponder. All of the negative hype surrounding Jack had been worrying him and for more than just the obvious reasons; the question of what was possibly behind it all disturbed him the most. It was, of course, impossible to disregard the fact that Jack had been repeatedly finding himself in hot water, but Victor simply didn't believe that was the root cause of the issue. Something had to have been perpetuating the negativity.

"What do you think could be behind it all?" he asked after a time.

She stopped her dish-cleaning to look at him with wide eyes, larger than they usually were- which was saying something.

"You don't think it's strange that all of this really kicked off after my father volunteered himself to head up the militia?"

"You suspect him?" he guessed.

"Of course I do. He's ambitious and cunning and the idea of him taking over a militia just to help someone out is laughable. He knew I'd think that, I'm sure, which is what scares me. Obviously I'm of no threat to him, even with what I know."

Victor ruminated on this for a moment before saying, "So…you don't think it will be a simple matter of telling Jack what's going on and having him pull your father out?"

She shook her head, laughing tiredly. "No way. Besides, he's already convinced the town that communication, travel and transport between Easter Town and the others needs to be cut off completely. There would be no way for Jack to do anything, even if we told him our suspicions."

"Clever." Victor said woefully.

"He's not one to take lightly, that much I can promise."

"Well, we have to do something. We can't just stand-by and watch this all unfold."

Seraphina nodded. "Oh I agree completely! But I'm running dry on ideas. If we're going to attempt anything, we can't lose sight of my father's craftiness. He's always been one step ahead."

"But if he's cut off all communication with the towns, he won't know what's going on in ours, will he?" Victor offered, brightening. "Perhaps he's done himself in!"

Seraphina looked at him skeptically.

"I'm sure he's got that covered too, Victor."

"We have to try," he pushed. "We have to convince Jack to stand up for himself- for his sake and the town's."

She exhaled loudly, but finally relented with a conceding nod.

"You're right. No matter how hopeless it might seem, we can't just stand idly by."

"No, we can't."

They were then left to wallow in the seeming impossibility of discovering a solution.

August

The move itself hadn't been easy, not in any sense of the word.

When Alistair and Lotte were first told by their parents, Lotte burst into tears and threw a fit while Alistair became furious and silent for days, kicking and throwing things when he could. Sally had known this would be of more harm than good and she hoped that, maybe, the Prices would see this too and revise their plan.

But her wish had been in vain. Augusta and Lionel were firmly set on their decision and had no plans of reneging on it, no matter how convinced their children had become that their parents hated them and simply wanted them out of their lives. It wasn't anywhere near the truth, of course, but what else was a child –already marred by the horror lurking outside- supposed to think?

And so the three of them were packed up and sent off with militia escorts in early June to the sanctuary of downtown. The flat that Augusta and Lionel had purchased for them was, of course, nowhere near the size of their plantation home, but it was still rather sizable. Augusta had arranged for it to be decorated and furnished entirely, as well as filled with all of the toys and familiar comforts of home for the sake of the children.

Despite all of this, the first three weeks of life in the inner-town was a constant daily struggle. Alistair was still furious and resistant to anything and Lotte seemed intent on mirroring the behavior of her brother. Lessons were boycotted and school work was ripped up immediately after giving it to them. Fits were thrown at any given time and something would usually get destroyed in the process.

Sally knew something had to be done, and quick, so she began making a point of sitting the children down and lecturing them with the reminder that they were loved, that they were here because their parents were worried about them, and that this spider issue would not last forever. Truthfully, she had trouble believing the last one herself, but she refused to fall into a pattern of fatalistic negativity, especially now when she needed to be strong for all three of them. In addition to all of this, she tightened the system of punishments and rewards, increasing them both. Eventually, her efforts seemed to pay off, as both children gradually began calming down.

It got back to the point where she could once again get through their day without fear of someone breaking down in tears or anger and ever so gradually the children began to return to their former optimistic selves. She was sure giving them plenty of outside time to run around in the town square and courtyards helped with that significantly. It was for this reason, then, that July saw a rather unexpected return to normalcy. They lived within their peaceful, weekly routine for the rest of the month and it was during this time that it seemed as if nothing could go wrong.

Sally knew she shouldn't have let herself be so blinded. She had fallen into the comforting pattern of safety and regularity and had let her guard down completely. It really was the only sensible explanation for having suddenly allowed herself to do something so completely thoughtless.

It happened one afternoon in very early August when she and the children were out shopping at the market. They had finished gathering what produce they needed and Lotte seemed intent on making a stop by the candy store on their way home. Sally was prepared to allow her this privilege as she had whisked through her lessons that morning without fuss. It was when they were on said route and having to cross through the central square that something caught Sally's eye. Truthfully, it would have been impossible to ignore it.

A young man stood on a stage –the same, in fact, that she had stood on months ago to give her lectures on giant spiders- shouting enthusiastically to a growing crowd of people at his feet.

"Lazy, irresponsible, and daft," he exclaimed. "The only three words suitable for his reign."

Intrigued, Sally made her gradual way over to hear and see a bit better. The children followed her obediently, but seemed frustrated that she had compromised their trip to the candy store. She, however, barely took any notice.

"How does his behavior affect us, you ask? Greatly! It is due to his irresponsibility that giant spiders -native to Halloween Town, might I add- now wander our town freely, killing and eating whoever cannot outrun them. He's a danger and a menace, taking over Holidays whenever he feels inclined!"

She was completely spell-bound now, unable to even hear the whined complaints of her charges. She was already fairly certain of who this man was referring to, but she needed to hear him say the name.

"King Jack is easily the worst holiday ruler of them all. The only sensible solution to this issue is to have him taken out. If you care at all about your own well-being, about that of your children or your town, you will agree with me that something has to be done to stop him!"

The raucous applause in response to this disturbed her greatly. Yes, she had known there had been a growing dislike of Jack. She wasn't blind to propaganda, after all. But this was obviously the result of it and it spoke of much more widespread hate than she had previously thought.

But these people didn't know Jack! They hadn't lived under him for the entirety of their existence. How could they understand that he was actually a worthy, competent ruler despite it all? Surely someone had to say something, to stand up for the truth.

And when no one did, when everyone kept applauding the slander as though it were the most accurate thing they had ever heard, Sally realized that it was going to have to be her.

"Wait!" she called out, almost unconsciously. The crowd's fervor quickly died down and heads gradually began turning around to see who had made the outcry. She quickly pushed through the crowd, not really realizing or contemplating the fact that she was leaving the children on their lonesome.

"Wait, that's not true!"

"Oh?" the young man challenged. "You disagree that Jack is an inept, selfish ruler? Well, ma'am, have you an argument that proves otherwise?"

"King Jack may have shown some irresponsibility with the Christmas debacle, granted, but he cares for his people and only has their best interest at heart. That's far more than I can say about Lord Belvoir and his militia!"

The crowd gasped, as did the young man.

"Lord Belvoir and this militia are our only hope against the spiders that King Jack introduced into our town! Who are you to speak ill of them?"

"Don't listen to her!" someone in the crowd shouted. "She's obviously from Halloween Town."

"But you should listen to me!" Sally protested, completely abandoning what remained of her practicality to come up on the stage beside the man. "I'm a former resident of the town, aren't I? Wouldn't I know Ja- King Jack best? For that matter, wouldn't I be significantly more familiar with Lord Belvoir than any of you?"

Neither the man nor the audience had any rebuttal to offer, so Sally continued on unabashed.

"King Jack is a loyal and trustworthy leader and has been for hundreds of years. He cares about every single being in our town. Let us not forget who sent the militia here in the first place. Yes, it was Jack! It was he who cared enough about all of you to send help. Lord Belvoir volunteered to head up the effort so that he could take complete control of the town. You all know from my lectures that it's not particularly difficult to take down a giant spider, especially with the amount of beings we have on our side now. No, that's not why the population has grown and things have only gotten worse. It's because your Lord is using it as a means to control all of you! Are you just going to stand idly by allow it to continue?"

The lot of them seemed awe-struck, murmuring intelligibly to each other in their collective uncertainty.

"What you are spouting, ma'am, is treachery," the young man interjected. "And as we all know, this is an arrestable offense."

The regaining of her more practical senses seemed to have come at a rather inopportune time, as there was a crowd of militia officers currently closing in on her. In her brief moment of panic before she was seized, she met the crystal blue eyes of Lotte and Alistair, both pairs filled with unmistakable fear.

She rushed to them as quick as she could, but was grabbed by both upper arms before she could reach them completely.

"Contact your parents!" she called out to them as the zombie and skeleton that had a hold on her tugged her in the opposite direction. "Tell them what's happened! And please take care of your sister, Alistair!"

Lotte began to cry and wail out her governess' name, futilely reaching for her as though it might do some good. Alistair simply stared, his mouth slightly agape. Sally couldn't tell if he was sad, or on the verge of being angry or just too stunned to feel anything.

What was apparent, however, was the amount of betrayal evident in both children. Somehow this was infinitely worse than what Augusta and Lionel had done, likely having to do with the fact that Sally's thoughtless act had been for no one's benefit but her own and the unspoken promise between the three of them that, no matter what, she would never desert them.

Despite it all, there they stood, alone and being gradually swallowed up by the sea of Easter beings as their governess was dragged to her cell.

Once again, her regret had come far too late.