A/N :

Doublesims : Damnit, not again. Okay people, if I'll ever describe North as the "Guardian of Hope" or Bunny as the "Guardian of Wonder" again, it's not because I don't know their titles, it's because of concentration issues or I dunno what else. I hope this won't happened again, but if it does, bear with me!

Q-A the Authoress : Yep.

Natalie : We still have several chapters to go. ;)

AyameKitsune : *updates* :3

SaiyanPrincess : Behind his wall of grumpiness Bunny really has a soft spot for Jack. ^^

lemonChocolate : Thank you, he's so much fun to write, especially in combination with Jack!

Xion5 : Yeah, he always has reasons for being stubborn, even though that doesn't help much.

boundbybooks : Thank you! I'm happy you like reading them as much as I like writing them. :D


"Damnit...damn damn damnit!" Jack cursed loudly while crossing the Australian continent.

Not only had he lashed out on one of his best friends without a proper reason, noooo, he had also left North's magical snowglobe behind in his uproar and was now flying over one of the warmest places on Earth, which didn't contribute to his general lack of energy ever since he had fought against the Boogeyman. How should he ever manage to get back to Santoff Clausen in this state? Not even 5 minutes after he had stormed out of the Warren and he already felt drained. He didn't recall ever having been so tired. But he couldn't allow himself to sleep, who knew what the shadows were planning to do the next time he encountered them. And yet, he couldn't stay awake forever, no matter how hard he tried to achieve it. There was only one person who could stop this. The Nightmare King himself.

Jack's excitement about meeting him barely one day after their last encounter was kept within reasonable limits. He also doubted that Pitch would agree to remove the shadows from him but it wasn't like he had any other choice. With determination flaring up inside him the immortal teen headed in direction of Burgess, mentally preparing himself to face the Boogeyman.

The journey turned out to be as burdensome as he had apprehended. Australia was only a blurry spot in the distance when he felt any kind of strength leaving him. If the wind hadn't ruffled his hair in an effort to get his attention he would have fallen asleep and plummeted into the ocean. If he wanted to or not, he had to land and rest for a bit. Several islands appeared among the saphhire blue water below him. Indonesia wasn't really a place he visited often, mainly because of the hot and humid weather, but he wasn't in a position to make demands right now. At least the sun was beginning to set, it would lower the temperatures if only for a few degrees.

As soon as Jack's feet touched the sand on the beach he stumbled forwards, his legs refusing to cooperate. Of course, being plagued by night terrors, sleep withdrawal and constant exhaustion wasn't enough, now his body had to mock him as well. With lacking grace he blundered into the jungle which was starting to grow right at the end of the beach and collapsed against one of the tall plamtrees. Through the bushes he could see the fiery red sky and the last hints of the sun dissappearing behind the horizon. His eyes dropped shut but he immediately forced himself to rip them open again, shook his head in a feeble attempt to also shake off the weariness. The more he fought against it the worse it got, he thought he had heard a soft voice convincing him that a short nap wouldn't hurt and wondered if he was hallucinating. Even the staff in his hand got increasingly heavy, and that while he was sitting and most of its barely existent weight resting on the mossy ground. Moments later he lost the battle and fell into a deep slumber.

Jack was sick and tired of this. In the literal sense of those words. How many days had gone by, he had no idea. Never would he have imagined that a travel across the globe could take so freaking long. Usually he was fast as lightning but his condition had worsened so much he only managed to fly over a few countries until he had to touch down and take a break again. And every time the same thing happened. He struggled against the unsonsciousness, he lost, he fell asleep, only to be tormented for what seemed like never-ending minutes, jerked awake and felt even crappier and more tired than he had before.

By now he was a shadow of his former self. He had tried to fight back when the malicious black entity attacked him but it had no use. No matter how much he focused on moving his limbs, grabbing his staff which was always lying mere inches away from him, suppressing the fear and kicking the being's butt all he succeeded to do was lie there and wait for the ordeal to be over. Anxiety, frustration and anger were a terrible combination. It had to end, it just had to.

Flying over the Atlantic ocean nearly resulted in him crash-landing in the deep blue sea below. Only at the last second did he come back to his senses and avoided the unplanned plunge. Barely conscious he reached the Eastern coast of the USA and collpased on the shore, panting heavily and falling asleep right away. Another disturbing encounter with the horrifying creature followed, once more leaving him in a state of pure terror.

Pitch would pay for this, so much was sure. But for that Jack had to gain strength, strength he didn't possess anymore. He felt weak, drained, tired, neither his mind nor his body ready for a battle. And yet, he had to confront the Boogeyman. It was his only chance get rid of those night terrors. If the continued at this rate they would destroy him or at least turn him insane. At least he had the advantage of Pitch himself being in no condition to fight. While not knowing how much time exactly had passed Jack guessed it wasn't more than a week since he had kicked his butt. Only a miracle could have enabled the Nightmare King to recover at such speed. He desperately hoped that wasn't the case.

Later that day when the town of Burgess came into view his anxiety had risen to a whole new level. No way was he afraid of Pitch, he had defeated him, he would do it again, but something in his mind decided to turn him into a mental wreck nonetheless. The flight, even though it was short, had further weakened him. It would have been too risky to go to his enemy right away so Jack rather seeked the comfort of his lake to gather the pathetic remains of his strength. He felt so heavy, so dead-tired. But he had to be strong, he had to solve this problem himself. There was no way around it. Eventually the increasing nervousness convinced him of not waiting any longer and just getting over with it.

When he arrived at the hole in the ground which depicted the entrance to Pitch's lair he stood there for a moment staring blankly at the ice blocking the way. Why was the hole filled with ice? Apparently the lack of sleep had also seriously messed his memory up. Chaotic thoughts ran through his head as he feverishly tried to recall the events of last week. Then he suddenly remembered that he had frozen the opening to prevent the Boogeyman from coming out and tormenting children again. Well, that had been a decent idea but now it was rather contra-productive. Fortunately it was no problem for him to unlock the entrance and with a thump of his staff the ice broke and crumbled down in hundreds of tiny pieces.

After taking a deep breath the winter spirit jumped into the hole, ungracefully landing on his behind. He dearly hoped no one had seen it. On shaky legs he sneaked through the gloomy tunnel until he reached the center of the lair. Dozends of black cages were hanging from the ceiling, just like the last time he had been here, but now they were empty and didn't imprison hundreds of tooth fairies anymore. The place was as creepy as ever. And it was quiet. Too quiet.

"Can I help you?" spoke an eerily calm and cynical voice out of nowhere.

Jack nearly jumped out of his skin. Both of his trembling hands grabbed his staff, ready to fight as he scanned his surroundings hastily.

"My, my, aren't you so full of fear. May I ask what you are doing here?"

Following the direction of where the voice was coming from the young immortal soon noticed something moving in the darkness. There, half-hidden in the shadows sat the Nightmare King on a throne made of black steel which was twice as tall as him. He didn't have anything royal about him though, as he rather huddled than throned there. It was obvious that he was still in bad shape after their previous fight, but Jack wasn't in a much better condition either. He wasn't in the mood for any of Pitch's shenanigans and decided to come straight to the point.

"I'm not afraid, I'm pissed off! Whatever you did to me, make it undone. NOW!" he blurted out in a furious tone.

The dark man shook his head and heaved a sigh like a parent who had just caught their child misbehaving.

"What an attitude, stomping into my home and making demands. Didn't you have anyone to teach you manners? Oh, my bad, I forgot, you really had no one." Pitch smirked, his yellow eyes piercing through the shadows he was residing in.

"I'm not here for smalltalk, I want you to get rid of...whatever it is." Jack snarled.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know DAMN well what I'm talking about!"

Feigning ignorance the Boogeyman leaned back in his throne and pretended to think deeply. Suddenly his eyes widened in fake enlightenment and he turned his attention back to the young man.

"Oh, you mean the nightmare sand in your body causing night terrors? Well, that's what you get for standing in the way all the time."

Jack's breathing increased, just like his anger.

" .OUT!"

"Why should I?"

"Because you know what I'm capable of and I really have enough of your mind games."

Threatening the Nightmare King probably probably wasn't a well-conceived strategy but Jack couldn't care less. All he felt was hatred, anxiety and fear. And he wanted it gone. Pitch sensed how much control those negative emotions had taken over him and it was clearly visible how exhausted he was. However, he also couldn't ignore the fact that he was pretty damaged himself and most likely wouldn't hold his ground in a battle. That wouldn't keep him from showing the boy who he was dealing with, since he was slowly running out of patience.

"What a shame, I thought you liked games, who would have expected the Guardian of Fun to be such a killjoy. I bet Jamie would be dissappointed."

"Shut up! You better leave him out of this or I swear you'll regret-"

"WHO do you think you're talking to, Frost!? I'm the Boogeyman so STOP blaring out threats at me!"

Concentrating on the nightmare sand flowing in Jack's blood Pitch gathered his remaining power to further corrupt it. He couldn't do much more in his current state but it was enough to teach the brat a lesson. Jack literally froze in place when he felt a strong wave of fear engulfing him from the inside out. It quickly wandered through every inch of his body, making him experience exactly the same fright the night terrors always caused him. Shivers ran through him again and again and soon the only sound he heard was the frantic beating of his heart echoing in his ears. No, this wasn't supposed to happen! He clenched his staff tighter. Wait, he was able to move his hand? That realization snapped him out of his trance. He was conscious, unlike when he was sleeping, so he could fight back this time. Pitch seemed to take notice of this and tried to intensify the effects of the nightmare sand. Jack thought the fear would devour him alive, he couldn't handle it much longer. Sudden panic took possession over him. A moment later blue electric light shot from his body and he aimed his staff at his enemy, directing all of his power towards him. Not expecting such a strong counterattack from the weakened winter spirit Pitch was taken aback and thrown against a wall on the other side of the spacious hall, where he dropped to the ground completely knocked out.

Still, it wasn't a real victory for Jack. Panic and fear refused to leave him, he was on the brink of hyperventilating, his body begged for mercy after it had to waste all that strength for the attack but the adrenaline in his veins kept him on his feet. He had to get out of here, the darkness surrounding him would suffocate him if he stayed any longer.

With a racing heart he stormed out of the gloomy lair, through the tunnel and back to the surface. Only mild relief invaded his broken mind as he inhaled the familiar scent of conifers and the ice of his lake. He couldn't think straight, the fear, it was still keeping a death grip on his soul. Like a jolted animal he pushed himself off the frozen soil and flew away at top speed. Whereto, he didn't care. Just away. Burgess lay merely a few dozen miles behind when the adrenaline wore off. Suddenly Jack could feel the aftermath of the attack as he was hit full force by a wave of exhaustion. Everything became blurry, all he registered was himself dropping out of the wind's grasp and plummeting towards another forest. The branches of a tree cushioned his fall a bit but he didn't even notice. He had passed out seconds before his body hit the ground.


A/N : Pitch is a bastard. :|
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