Jack helped to load up the last of the food that the Chieftain had granted them. The feast the night before had been a huge party, and Pitch, Jack, and Nightlight were the guests of honor. It was only the fact that the Icentuvans needed sleep that the feast ended, and the three foreigners took the rest of the sleep cycle to begin to get the ship ready for flight the next day. When the Icentuvans woke up, the Chief ordered food to be given to them, ignoring Pitch's statement that food wasn't needed.
"Food means life," she said. "Even if you do not need the food to live, it will help you to heal, yes?"
Pitch agreed, and the hold was stuffed with insulated food that would keep for months. As Jack tied down the last crate, he noticed how much easier he tied the knot. It was the same knot he'd struggled with at the beginning of his journey, and while he still didn't tie it as fast as Pitch, he was proud of how far he'd come. Smiling, Jack stood up, slipping his hands in his pockets as he began to head back toward the stairs.
On the third stair, as he took another step, pain shot through his stomach, and Jack's hands clenched inside his hoodie pockets, clutching his stomach as he doubled over. As his knees hit the stairs, his vision flashed white, and he saw Autumn's orange eyes, full of malice and glee as his fist raised to strike him again. The back of Jack's head swelled with pain as Autumn struck him, sending him sprawling onto the ground…
"Jack?"
Autumn's face receded, replaced with Nightlight's shining face. He was crouching beside the fallen boy's head, his fingers trailing over Jack's cheek. Jack shot up, looking around in bewilderment. His blue eyes were wide, terrified, and his chest was heaving. He was so afraid that he marveled that Pitch wasn't running for him, demanding what was wrong. But it was only Nightlight that knelt before him.
"What happened?" Jack asked.
"I think that you fell. You hit your head on the side of that crate. You are bleeding." Nightlight leaned closer, his bright eyes full of interest. "Your blood is blue. That is interesting. I've never seen blue blood before."
Jack heaved himself to sit up, leaning against the crate he'd hit in his fall. Reaching up, he ran his fingers over the back of his head. It was wet, and when he looked at his fingers, his dark blue blood shone in the lantern light. Jack looked away, confused. It wasn't the crate that had split his head open, he thought, it was Autumn. But how was that possible? He didn't know.
"Are you well?" Nightlight asked.
"I'm a bit dizzy," Jack admitted, leaning his head back. "Anything to patch me up?"
"I don't know where they are kept, but I'm sure that Prism has something."
"Where is he, anyway?" Jack asked.
"Saying goodbye to the chief. We're setting sail as soon as he gets back, then we will talk before we set our course. He doesn't want them to be put in any more danger than they're already in. Do you wish to come up?"
"Yeah. Help me get up to the deck."
Nightlight leaned his spear onto the wall then picked Jack up and set him on his feet. Jack leaned against the ethereal boy all the way to the desk. He leaned back, breathing deeply as the world spun, and Nightlight perched on the desk, saying nothing. Pitch found them like that, and he pulled the gangplank up before walking over. He sniffed the air.
"Are you melting ice?" he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"My head's cut open," Jack said. "I fell."
Pitch hummed and turned Jack's head to observe the wound. "Not deep, but it's bleeding a lot. Wait here." He glanced at Nightlight. "Take us into the skies."
Nightlight inclined his head and climbed over the railing to the wheel. With a clang of the bell, the ship began to float up. The Icetuvans were calling farewells to them, but Jack didn't care. He was too dizzy. Pitch descended into the hold and came back with a few items. He began to tend to the back of Jack's head.
"How did you fall?" Pitch asked.
Jack paused for a few moments then lied. "I must have slipped."
"Must have, eh?"
"Yeah. Icy."
"But you never slip on ice," Pitch countered in a low, steady voice.
Jack knew he was caught, but Pitch didn't say another word. He worked silently, pressing a clear, stinging substance to the wound to stop the bleeding. Jack shuddered, and Pitch stood up.
"It's already healing, Frost. You'll be fine."
He descended into the hold again, and when he returned, his silvery gold eyes glanced over Jack, as if reading him. Jack couldn't help but remember the promise that if he told Pitch the truth, then Pitch would be honest with him. He gritted his teeth then leaned forward, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I didn't slip."
By this time, Pitch had taken the wheel, sending Nightlight up into the rigging. But they both stilled when he spoke. Jack had never known people with sharper ears than those two.
"I figured," Pitch said softly, guiding their ship away from the white ball that was Icentuva.
"What happened then?" Nightlight asked, dangling upside down with ease. "I heard you cry out, but I thought that was you falling. Was it not?"
Jack shivered. "I don't know what happened."
"Describe it," Pitch replied. "We've been around the block a time or two, as the humans say."
"I…I saw…Autumn," he ground out. "And he was attacking me. I-I was just…"
Jack's heart began to beat fast at the memory, and his stomach spasmed in pain. He swore, doubling over again as tears poured from his eyes. Clutching at his stomach, terror exploded inside of him. He saw Autumn's bare, tan feet standing in front of him, and he threw himself back, trying to crawl away, but he was caught in strong arms.
"Let me go! Let me go!" Jack squeaked.
"Frost! Frost, come back! NOW, JACK!"
And he was on the ship again, trying to cower away from Pitch's grip. He looked around for Autumn, his heart in his throat, but there was nobody. Sweat poured from every pore in his body, and he couldn't speak as he stared at Pitch's face. There was a shadow of pain in his eyes, and his dark skin seemed to darken for a moment. Then Pitch cradled him close, tucking him against his shoulder.
"It's alright, Jack," he crooned. "It's just a bad dream."
"B-but I'm not sleeping," Jack croaked, his fingers clenched on the dark coat. "How can I dream if I don't sleep?"
"Shadow Man knows we're coming for him, doesn't he?" Nightlight asked, landing softly beside them without a wisp of sound.
"He's picking at Frost's scar," Pitch said, bringing his hand to Jack's stomach and pulling up his shirt and hoodie.
Nightlight pressed his lips together, staring at the white line. "Mine are tingling, but he cannot breach my light."
"He will try harder as we get closer," Pitch said. He gathered Jack in his arms and placed him back in the chair. "Don't think about it, Frost. Keep your mind on the light, and he can't get through it." He paused then leaned against the table. "Are you ready, Nightlight? We need to know now."
The boy of light nodded, plunging his spear into the deck then perching on top of it. "It is not pleasant. After I left you with the little Lunanoff, I went deep into the reaches of space. I determined to myself that I would find him and follow him and stop him from hurting either of you again. I thought that he couldn't hurt me, and in a way I was right."
"He attempted to rape me, as he did you, when he finally caught me and drained me of my light, but I was bleeding so heavily, and my blood burned him. So instead, he sliced me up and sent his slithers into me, but they died soon after he left me for dead."
Nightlight paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he continued, his voice was tight. "I lay there for what felt like eons, or so it seemed. Time meant nothing to me anymore except for pain. And then you communicated with me, and you saved me and healed me."
"And what did you find on your journey before that," Pitch pressed.
The boy's light was brightening, and his voice, typically low and soothing, began to climb in pitch and volume. "I learned of several lairs of his. Monsters guard them, but we must pass by them all. I have no doubt that he is in his stronghold. We will have to go through many trials before we get there. There are many fights ahead of us."
Nightlight was talking fast, and his hands began to wring together as he spoke. Pitch pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the boy. Jack had never seen Nightlight so bright, and his eyes were flashing like angry stars. Pitch grabbed the boy's hands and leaned close.
"You're safe, Nightlight," Pitch said. "Think of no shadows. You are with me, and you are safe."
Jack marveled at the way the terror drained out of Nightlight's face. His breathing evened out, and he leaned against Pitch's shoulder, gazing into the gentle silvery gold eyes that shimmered and gleamed with emotions that did not touch the rest of the man's face. Nightlight began to cry, but he radiated his relief, and Jack wondered if that was how he looked a few minutes before. Because that look of devotion and security, the overwhelming sense of protection, was exactly how he felt when Pitch held him.
And Jack's mind once again wondered about the Guardians. What did they see when they looked at this dark man? Admittedly, when Jack met him for the first time, he had sensed something evil inside him. But that feeling had dissipated when Pitch began to scream and run from the Night Mares. Something akin to realization had dawned on his face, and there was a change in his eyes as he'd swept his gaze over the herd of huffing, angry steeds. Jack had seen real fear on Pitch's face, and all the evil seemed to evaporate as he turned and ran.
That evil feeling had never returned, not in all the weeks that Jack had spent in Pitch's company. And looking at the tender, loving gaze of Pitch as he soothed his old friend made Jack's heart ache for Pitch, the man who had gone through darker nights than any of the Guardians and who was still strong and alive despite the horror he'd lived through. Jack sniffled, and Pitch turned to him, his eyes questioning. The boy shrugged, rubbing at his eyes; he felt no embarrassment, even though he would usually scoff at such a display of emotion.
Pitch's lips quirked just high enough that it might've been called a smile and he held out an arm. "Come here, Jack."
Jack walked into Pitch's embrace, unafraid of the man who controlled nightmares and Night Mares. Because in that moment there was nothing to be afraid of. It was like a father holding his two children, something that Jack could not remember ever experiencing. And Pitch pulled Jack close, running his fingers over the back of Jack's head in a comforting motion.
"I promise you both that you'll be alright," Pitch murmured. "You two are stronger than anybody else I know. You will get out of this alive. And you'll go back to Earth and try to make trains skate on ice and dance and play with Moonbeams and the children of the world."
After a few more moments, Pitch pressed a kiss onto both of their foreheads, then pulled back, got up, and went to the maps. Nightlight and Jack stared at each other, smiling. Jack thought that he saw a glitter where Pitch had kissed Nightlight, but it was hard to tell with the light the boy naturally gave off. Nightlight jumped off his spear, pulled it up, then walked over to stand by Pitch to plan their route. Jack joined them, beaming with emotions that he didn't understand.
