A/N What's it been, five years? I've been toying with a third chapter for this universe for a while, mostly for FacesForHats, who left me incredibly enthusiastic and kind reviews quite a while back now but which I haven't forgotten. 😊

I have an idea for a 4th chapter but can't promise when or if it will come to fruition. But Jack does, tentatively, make a new friend and it's too cute for me to write off completely. So, we'll see! In the meantime, enjoy Jack's headspace and small look into his life. It's a bitch. Really.

The Broken Son of the Moon

Pitch had been right when he said that things were going to change.

The perpetually dark spirit had an annoying tendency to be right about a lot of things.

Jack had been left to his own devices for a long time now. After he'd freed himself, he'd drawn a clear line in the snow, one that separated him from everyone else and he'd poured every fiber of his being into enforcing his boundaries and expectations with ruthless fury.

They could all be summed up into one simple little rule.

Leave me the hell alone.

Jack himself made a point of keeping his distance – he had no interest in starting trouble with anyone – and he expected everyone to show him the same curtesy unless they wanted to be a dead example of why it was a bad idea to cross his path.

Jack Frost did not offer second chances. Anyone bold (or stupid) enough to deliberately seek him out was going to enter a fight for their life. Their only options were to kill him or to run.

It had taken a few years and many failed attempts before the others seemed to accept that he was a lost cause. They weren't going to make any progress in fixing him. They called him "feral". A rogue seasonal. Wild, savage, too dangerous, and not worth enough to risk their lives for.

He'd heard whispers that they called him the broken son of the Moon.

The creatures of light warned others like them to stay away, to keep their distance and leave him alone. The creatures of darkness, the very beings Jack had spent much of his existence in the company of, the ones that had laughed at his agony and helped to shatter him into pieces, had mostly learned over the years to respect his power. But he was still, even a century and a half later, a source of petty amusement to some. Dark creatures occasionally sought him out; they liked to toy with and torment him whenever they could. It was almost a game. His savagery in a fight had turned him into a challenge. They came to conquer him and if not conquer, then to hurt him enough just for the honor of bragging.

Jack would occasionally wear the scars which painted his skin like a Jackson Pollock with unabashed boldness. When necessary, they made him look more intimidating and weaker fools would scramble to get out of his way, fearful of the punishment that Jack would deliver now that they had a sense of what he could take.

And oh, Jack knew how to take a beating.

If nothing else, the unwanted attention kept him on his toes. He was tense, always tense, always waiting for the inevitable to happen, for the next blow to fall, for the next fight to begin. It didn't matter how long it had been since he'd escaped that hellhole, it would never be long enough.

Whatever changes were taking place in the world, whatever bitch fight for dominance was about to go down, Jack wanted nothing to do with it. He didn't care who was in power as long as he was left alone.

But if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride – or so the saying went.

And Jack so very rarely had his way in life.

Whatever events were starting to unfold, they were making him a popular target just as Pitch had predicted only a few short years ago.

Others will either want to try and recruit you to their side or ensure that you stay out of the game….

Damn him for being right.

Though "recruit" was lightly said. There was nothing friendly about the visitors who came his way. They did not come seeking him for pleasantries – Jack was not offered a position by anyone's side, was promised no glory or wealth, and he certainly was not let in on what the big plan actually was in order for him to decide whether or not it was worth his time or interest.

No one came to bargain with him.

But everyone came to bring him to heel.

The long game of cat and mouse was over and the hunt had truly begun. Jack was a toy – a weapon, a thing – to be owned and used on a whim. The dark beings that came searching for him were ones that Jack knew personally from so long ago. They'd been there, had witnessed him being broken, had taken part of the fun, and remembered when he listened and obeyed on command. They remembered both his weakness and his power and finally had the motivation to try and take it for themselves.

The reputation he'd worked so hard to build for himself was starting to work against him in the sense that his enemies were often willing to team up with each other in order to have a better shot at getting him under control. His usual one to one fights were multiplying to three against one.

It was an admittedly smart strategy. It hadn't worked… yet. But he'd taken more damage in recent months than he had in a very long time, had barely escaped capture by the skin of his teeth one too many times and with no end in sight. There was no shortage of alliances these days, it seemed.

The way that he saw it, his options were to go deep into hiding and hope they'd lose interest or forge an alliance of his own.

The first option was faulty. Jack didn't flaunt himself in public as it was. He was already on the downlow and made a point of keeping to himself. Finding him was no easy task on a good day and despite his efforts, his "visitors" were hunting him down with increasing frequency. Hiding and waiting things out probably wasn't an option or at least, not one that would last forever.

Forging an alliance was probably the better option, if the least desirable.

Jack had no interest in relationships. For almost two centuries, he'd done everything and anything to discourage them entirely. Hell, he didn't even really know how to hold a normal conversation. The thought of speaking to someone might have been intimidating if he was capable of getting over the fear and rage that came with being in someone else's company in the first place. He felt like a bug being dissected under a microscope, a cow with a shotgun to its head for slaughter. It was the worst kind of vulnerability.

Most everyone on this planet were centuries older than him, powerful and strong – warriors, no matter which side they played for. Beings capable of hurting others, with rules and ideals that they followed to a T and who were willing to punish those who stepped out of line. And if life had taught Jack anything, it was that no one was trustworthy. Everyone had a motive. Everyone lied. And no one cared if he got hurt.

An alliance seemed far-fetched. The very idea made him sick to his stomach and shake with anger.

The only being in all of existence that he considered his friend and would deign to speak to and spend time with was Pitch Black. It was a rapport painstakingly established, only brought into existence because Pitch himself was very, very patient and annoyingly persistent. The older spirit had watched his back on numerous occasions over the centuries and while Jack had never acted on it and currently had no plans to ever do so… he had a strong feeling that if he'd ever really needed help… that Pitch would show up if Jack only asked.

There was no one – no one else – on this planet that he could possibly allow to witness one of his detested moments of weakness. No one else he'd even consider reaching out too.

If trust was needed for an alliance to be successful, then his friend was the only logical choice.

He knew Pitch had an interest in whatever was happening and would likely welcome Jack's alliance with quiet glee.

But… Jack wasn't ready to commit to that yet. He got along with Pitch because there weren't any expectations between them. Pitch liked him and had no preference for how he behaved. He seemed to understand the disjointed, untamable monster that had been created inside of him as well as the tidal wave of emotion and pain that occupied his headspace, jumbled and loud and confusing and infuriating all in the same moment.

It was soothing to be seen and not merely stared at.

Pitch was old and his presence over the centuries had become… not quite soothing, but as close to it as Jack suspected he could get.

Jack was hesitant to do anything that would disrupt what they already had. How would things change if Pitch suddenly expected something from him? If there were expectations to meet? How would he react if Jack failed somehow?

For all that he thought the light and dark system was useless… Pitch was Dark. He was dangerous and manipulative and powerful and certainly capable of immense cruelty. He felt entitled and was deeply sensitive to betrayal and had no qualms with hurting others in order to get his way.

Jack wasn't judging; he was many of those things too. They got along because they understood each other, because they didn't care about falling in line, and because the worst things about them were already out in the open for them both to see and had been from the start.

But everything that made Pitch a good ally also made him a very dangerous enemy. No one else on the planet knew Jack the way that Pitch did and if they were to be at odds with each other for one reason or another, then Pitch would be able to hurt him in a way no one else could.

And that was without considering the fact that allying himself with Pitch would further paint a bright red target on his back that wouldn't ever leave. Jack would cease to be an impartial and he had a nagging feeling that once that happened, he wouldn't be safe from anyone.

So, no.

Jack wasn't willing to join in a formal alliance with Pitch.

Not yet, at least.

But he suspected, as he watched the golden sand creations of the Star being to trickle down from the night sky and illuminate the dark mountaintop he was on and felt the sting of fresh and bleeding claw marks across his ribcage, that it wouldn't be very long in the future until he wasn't left with much of a choice.

But one could hope.

A/N Is this fandom even alive anymore? XD