Jack reformed in his bedroom, catching his breath. He hadn't traveled by shadow in years. It was a jarring sensation. Oogie steadied him then stood back. Jack noticed that Oogie's burlap was coated with his blood. His clothes were saturated in the red substance, and it must have been squeezed out by Oogie's firm grasp.

"Alright, Jack. I'll run you a bath."

Jack smiled. That meant far more than it seemed on the surface. Oogie was terrified of water, and he wouldn't get near it for just anybody. Oogie walked into his small bathroom and turned on the old-fashioned faucet. Steam poured from the doorway, and Jack looked around his room. There was far too much dust for his taste. But he couldn't clean right then. His arm, even perfectly still, was a never-ending throb of pain. He hated breaking bones.

Oogie came back out, his form steaming as he layered fire across his skin to dry it out. He noticed Jack's tired, dazed expression as he gazed wistfully around.

"I'll clean it up for you, Jack," Oogie said. "While you're stayin' with the doc. I have time."

Jack turned slowly to look at Oogie. "That sounds nice," he slurred. He blinked slowly, then he frowned. "I'm so tired."

"Always tires you out to change back," Oogie replied, striding over and shutting the shutters tightly. He waved his point at the fireplace, and it burst to life, sending flickering shadows up the walls. "Now let's get those clothes off ya."

Oogie had quite a time trying to peel the drenched shirt off of Jack without making his arm hurt any worse. At last, Jack told him to get the scissors because he had to make a new set of clothes anyway. A few snips later, and the destroyed garment was tossed in the fireplace to be burned. It was followed a minute later by Jack's pants. Jack followed Oogie into the bathroom and turned the water off. He looked down at his right forearm and grimaced. It was split down the ulna and the radius from his wrist to his elbow. Oogie followed his gaze and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he murmured. "I didn't mean to. The-the water…"

Jack nodded. "I know," he cut in. "But that's not going to make the water hurt any less."

Oogie gripped his good arm and helped him into the tub. Jack eased down, a low, guttural snarl coming involuntarily from his throat as he lowered the broken bones into the water. Oogie's points hovered over Jack, unsure and a little frightened.

"Just get my spine," Jack murmured. "I can get everything else."

Oogie nodded then made a soft churning noise. The bugs in his points immediately migrated up his arm. Oogie wetted his burlap and tenderly washed Jack's spine with soap and water until it was white again. Jack thanked him, grabbed a washcloth, and began to scrub. Oogie dried himself off with a blast of fire, then sat down and watched Jack to make sure he wouldn't fall asleep. He certainly moved slowly enough and paused often enough that it was a real possibility. Jack certainly couldn't drown, but he wouldn't like to fill his skull with water again. He found that incredibly uncomfortable.

Jack took tender care with his broken bones, cleaning gingerly along the splintered edges until they were white, before moving on to the rest of himself. It was a slow, methodical process, and Oogie knew they would be there awhile. He wondered if Jack wanted to talk or if he was just too tired. Jack removed any doubt.

"Been a long time, Crawly," he sighed, dipping the rag into the bathwater again and spreading on more soap.

"It has, Creepy," Oogie replied softly. There was a pause, but the Bogeyman knew that he could talk now. "Can I ask why you left?"

"You know. I heard you talking to them."

"That's not why I asked," Oogie said simply.

Jack sighed, working the soap into the joints of his fingers one at a time. "I worked so hard for them," Jack murmured. "I gave everything I had for them. I wanted to help them make their Holidays the very best they could be. That's not wrong, is it?"

"Nope," Oogie replied, leaning against the wall.

"I learned everything I could, talked to their wives, enjoyed their traditions. They have amazing Holidays, amazing stories, and I loved to hear about them. I loved meeting them and exploring their realms. Their wives are amazing women. They're strong and fierce, just like their husbands. They're so kind, and they would ask questions about Halloween and I would tell them about everything in our town, about our Holiday."

"They sound like great gals," Oogie said.

Jack smiled. "They are. Carol makes the best peppermint fudge. She's always so happy to have guests. Pocahontas is a great huntress. She can skin a deer faster than me. Stormy is a rabbit, it's true, but she's a great gardener. She grows beautiful flowers and she is an artist when it comes to painting eggs. Aileen, that's Patrick's wife, brews the best beer. She was actually surprised that I'd never had beer before. I must admit it's not bad, especially the darker brews. Betsy is Sam's wife, and she has the most beautiful voice. She sings while we're working, and she loves to tell stories. And Psyche is just incredible. She's the most kind, loving woman I've ever met. She loves everybody and everything."

"They really do sound great," Oogie said. "But what about their husbands?"

Jack's face twisted. "They avoided me. And Halloween. No matter what I did, how often I tried to bring it up, they avoided the topic. I didn't understand what I was doing wrong. Why didn't they like me? Was I not scary enough?"

"Did you ever find out why?"

Jack didn't answer, concentrating on washing his skull. He took an unusually long time with it, and Oogie knew he was avoiding the question. The Bogeyman was patient, waiting quietly as Jack lowered the rag and dipped it into the warm water again. Then he prodded.

"Jack?"

"Because you scared them," Jack muttered, wringing out the rag.

"So?"

"The bad kind of fear," Jack clarified.

Oogie considered this. "I guess their Holidays aren't all about fear."

"No," Jack said softly. "They're not."

"You know why I did it," Oogie said. "Maybe you should explain to them."

"Yeah, that way they blame my stupidity for their trauma," Jack muttered.

"I was angry when they stitched me back together. Usually it's you who does that."

"I was sure you didn't want to see me," Jack said. "I'd literally pulled you apart the year before and destroyed your bugs, and I figured you'd try and get back at me."

"I suppose I did, after all was said and done," Oogie replied, tapping his chin. "But I didn't mean to traumatize them."

"Well, you did," Jack grumbled. He scrubbed at the little bones in his foot. "Out of curiosity," he began.

"Which killed the cat," Oogie replied with a grin.

"Of course," Jack said, smiling. "Why didn't you immediately come after me again? You yanked me back with a threat last time less than two months after I left."

"I didn't know," Oogie said, shrugging. "When I got the feeling on November first that you'd left, I assumed it was because you were doing Holiday work again. It wasn't til after July fourth that I realized that the feeling was getting worse and had never eased. Up to that point, I figured you were working your tailbone off with the other Holiday leaders. The doc never told me you were gone, and the ragdoll didn't know to come to me."

"Of course Riker didn't tell you," he mumbled, leaning his head back against the cool tub rim. "He would want to keep you out of everything."

"As usual," Oogie said. He hesitated. "I bet he'll be in his chair again when ya get there," he said. "But I know he was walkin' around when you were gone."

Jack closed his eyeholes, groaning low in his throat. He knew Oogie's theory on Dr. Finkelstein having forsaken his legs a thousand years before. It was due to the extra attention, and Jack knew it was true after a millennium of being with him. It has become especially clear when Sally had been made. The doctor had kept a tight grip on her, needing her attention to be on him alone. It was only when Jack had shown real interest in her that he'd relaxed his grip.

Jack knew the doctor's story, knew how he'd been denied attention by his pagan parents when he was young because he refused to bow to their gods. He had become needy in his teenage years, and by the time he had died, he'd become desperate for attention, for praise and admiration. Unfortunately, he'd carried that over to his undead life. And that was why he'd pried so hard between Jack and Oogie. He wanted Jack's attention for himself. He wanted the friendship that the two had so naturally shared. It still rankled him that no matter how far he drove Oogie away, Jack had never confided in him the same way he had with the Bogeyman.

"Jack?" Oogie asked. "You asleep?"

"I know why you separated yourself from me," Jack said. "But it hasn't made the problem go away."

Oogie sighed. "I couldn't stand seeing him hurt you like that."

"But you leaving hurt worse," Jack grumbled. He paused. "But at least you took in Lock, Shock, and Barrel. They need your firm hand."

"Hard lives," Oogie said.

"I guessed that." Jack scanned his form to see if there were any bloodstains left. Seeing none, he gripped the tub with his good hand and heaved himself up. "Maybe you could send them to me when they have night terrors."

"That might help," Oogie conceded, standing and grasping Jack's arm. He cringed at the water. "They might listen to you more."

"That would be welcome."

Jack stepped out and pulled the plug to drain the water then dried off as best he could with a towel while Oogie fetched his trousers and a cloak. It wouldn't be smart to try and put a shirt on him, not when the doctor would just have to take it off again. Jack stepped into his pants and Oogie fastened the cloak around him.

"Pajamas?" he asked.

"I'll be fine in these. Perhaps I'll bring a shirt for tomorrow. I should be splinted by then."

Oogie nodded then held out his point after retrieving the shirt. Jack took it and they melted into the shadows. The world was always strange when they traveled that was. It was smoky, surreal, and Jack enjoyed the feeling of moving this time. They solidified right inside the doctor's gate. Oogie looked around at the acid river that ran around the lab like a moat.

"Walk me to the door?" Jack asked.

"No farther," Oogie said.

They strolled down the metal walkway, not saying anything. They didn't need to. That wasn't the way things were with the doctor, Jack mused. He was always talking to him, always bringing his attention to this or that, afraid of losing even a second to silence. Unless he was working, there had to be constant noise. It hurt Jack to know how miserable the doctor was, even after twenty-two hundred years. He just didn't know how to help.

Oogie paused before the steps up to the door, where Sandy was waiting. He waved with a smile, but Jack didn't wave back. Sandy wilted a little, but Jack didn't care. He turned to Oogie.

"Since you not being around hasn't helped, I see no reason to stay distant," Jack said. "So perhaps you wouldn't mind if Sally and I came to dinner next week."

"Not at all. Snake and spider stew?"

"What else?" Jack asked, grinning.

Oogie turned to see Sandy peering at them curiously. He waved then turned away to leave. After a few steps, he paused.

"Next time, come talk to me first, Creepy. This Holiday just ain't the same without you."

"Will do. If I'm welcome."

Oogie turned and smiled. "You always are."

With that, he melted back into the shadows and dashed away. Jack stood there for a moment, smiling to himself. He was glad they were still friends. Then he took a deep breath and steeled himself to face the doctor and Sandy and the others. He turned on his heel and walked up the stairs and through the door.