A flash of colour caught Jack's eye when he came to visit the boogeyman's lair one day. Reds and blues and yellows, all so out of place in this dim, monochromatic realm. There, in one of the largest cages, a pile of what looked like frayed and dust-covered rags. What was that doing there? Had Pitch picked up another pet? What sort of thing had piqued his interest this time, and why, Jack wondered with a shudder, would it need such a large living space?
He went closer to the cage cautiously. When he spotted a small hand peeking out from under the quilts he felt the pit of his stomach drop and a chill creep down his spine. Kids. There were kids in the cage. At least a dozen of them, scratched and bruised and sprawled out senseless on the floor of the structure. Jack was at the bars in an instant.
"Don't worry, don't worry, it's okay. I'm going to get you out," he said reassuringly, scrambling for the lock. The kids didn't so much as twitch and a whole new horror froze Jack for a moment as he stared desperately at the limp children. "Hey, hey, wake up," he pleaded. Still no response, but one child sighed and drew the blankets tighter around herself. Just asleep, just asleep, thank the Moon. Jack thought with relief.
"They can't hear you, Jack."
"Pitch!" Jack whirled, leveling his staff at the boogeyman, standing protectively between the cage and where Pitch had emerged from. "Why are these kids in a cage?!"
"Because when they were free to wander about one of them almost fell off of a cliff," Pitch answered, seemingly unperturbed by Jack's aggression.
"I'm not joking around about this, Pitch. You send these kids back home right now," Jack growled dangerously.
"I can't."
"What do you mean, you can't?!"
"They don't have a home to go back to," Pitch replied acidly, narrowing his eyes.
"What have you done, Pitch?" Jack asked, voice low.
The boogeyman looked at him disdainfully. "You seem to have already made up your mind on that count, Jack. Shall I tell you what you want to hear, then? That I've gone back to my old ways? That I've dragged children into my domain, abused them, and done something to destroy their homes? If that's what you believe, I'd be more than happy to give you that fight you seem to be itching for, Frost," he hissed, and Jack could see the glowing eyes of Nightmares and Hellhounds blink into existence from the shadows behind Pitch.
Jack gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the staff, instincts screaming at him to blast the boogeyman away, drive him back to the shadows, and take the kids back home. The look on Pitch's face made him hesitate. He'd gotten pretty good at reading Pitch over the years, and right now the Nightmare King was angry, yes, but more than that he was insulted. Why? Jack reined in his anger. "If that's not what happened, then tell me what did. Explain for once instead of dancing around the subject like always. And it had better be good," he growled, shifting into a slightly less aggressive stance.
Pitch rolled his eyes. "It's very far from good, Jack. There was an earthquake. A little country, near the equator, not exactly your jurisdiction. Most of the buildings collapsed. Those-" he gestured at the cage behind Jack "-were trapped under the rubble, and they were so, so frightened. It seemed like such a shame to just leave such powerful sources of fear to be smothered under brick and mortar. So I yanked them out."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
Pitch scowled in response. "Yes, I'm well aware that I don't normally do such a thing. I assure you, this reminded me why I don't. Children are terrible, wretched things, nothing but incessant babbling and crying and demands. If it were only terrified screaming, that would be different, but no. Not to mention that these ones kept trying to run off and escape and nearly broke their scrawny little necks. So I put them in the cage for safekeeping and put them to sleep to make them be quiet." He rubbed his temples. "I still have a splitting headache from the whole thing."
"…That's a completely unbelievable story," Jack said, crossing his arms.
"Then wouldn't I have come up with a better lie?" Pitch asked, examining his nails nonchalantly. "And I really couldn't care less whether you believe me or not. Though you might notice that I haven't set my Nightmares on the little ones sleeping so vulnerably in my realm."
Jack frowned and glanced over his shoulder at the kids again. No dreamsand danced over their heads, but no nightmare sand either. "Why not?"
Pitch folded his arms. "I don't want them to wake up and cause a ruckus again. And even I'm not so heartless as to take children that have gone through something very traumatic and consign them to inescapable nightmares." He glared at Jack as if daring him to make a comment on this. "Besides, they'll have more than enough of them later on in life."
"So what are you going to do with them, then?"
Pitch shrugged. "I have no intention of keeping these terrible, noisy brats here any longer than necessary. With luck, the relief efforts will reach the area soon enough. I'll dump the children on them then."
"How caring of you. I'll just stick around and watch over them for now, if it's all the same to you." Jack said, backflipping to perch on the top of the cage.
"Still don't trust me, Frost? You wound me," Pitch drawled. "I suppose I can expect nothing less from a Guardian, though. Even if these children have never heard of you. Do what you will." He faded back into the shadows with a curt nod.