A/N: Inspiration music:
watch?v=gnjLiguterM
Outside Sally's shop, the cold air felt electric against Jack's bones. The churning clouds had gotten much closer while he and Sally had been talking, like great black beasts creeping towards Halloween Town. Jack estimated that the storm would arrive in an hour, two hours at most. The skeleton felt a tingle in his rib cage as he spotted yellow-white lightning bolts among the towering mountains of air and rain. Stormy weather certainly wasn't a rare event in Halloween Town – some of the town's most successful Halloweens had been with a backdrop of thunderous rain clouds – but a storm of this size and ferocity was still a terrifying sight to behold. Down the street from where the Pumpkin King and Queen stood, Jack could see several citizens going about, excitement about the storm clear in their stances. There even was a group of children loudly betting each other that they'll be able to stay outside the longest once the storm breaks.
Jack glanced at each face in this group, hoping that his younger son would be among them. Jack didn't have any such luck, as there wasn't any skeleton children among the kids. Then again, Jack thought to himself, Clive probably wouldn't even consider a friendship with the trouble-making trio if he was playing with the other children of Halloween Town. That had been a problem lately, but between Halloween preparations and the trio's prank, Jack hadn't had the chance to properly address it. The skeleton felt like kicking himself. He should have made time for his son, regardless of how much he needed to do for Halloween.
Well, Jack would make time for Clive now. But first, the Pumpkin King would have to find his wayward child. Usually, when Jack and Sally were both busy with their jobs, the younger Skellington children would be watched over by the elder children. That didn't mean that Clive would be with Ophelia or Adrian, however, nor did it mean he would be with his sisters Shirley or Mary either. Even discounting the possibility of Clive simply sneaking away when his siblings weren't looking, all the Skellington children were allowed – within reason – a degree of autonomy within the borders of Halloween Town, as all Halloween children were. Neither Jack or Sally had ever worried about this, as every citizen would help the children if they were in trouble, and descend upon anyone who tried to harm them with a frightening viciousness. They simply never had reason to worry.
Perhaps that should change, Jack considered. He didn't care for the idea, as he thought encouraging his children's independence was essential to their growth as their own persons. But if Clive was getting into trouble, it might be necessary to supervise him until further notice. Jack turned to Sally to ask her opinion – she had brought up the idea of supervision in the first place, and knew where to set boundaries for the kids a bit better than he – but the question died before being spoken as Jack saw the look on his wife's face.
Sally's face was also turned up towards the approaching storm, but her expression was drawn with dreadful fear. Not the kind of fear Jack loved to inspire every Halloween, not the fun kind of dread that had someone call out who's there? It was the sickening kind of fear that, while not as sadistic as the kind of terror Oogie Boogie had loved to inflict on others, had the same capacity for harm. It was the type of dread that made others fear for their lives or well-being, rather than a well-constructed atmosphere. And it was the kind of emotion Jack never wanted to see on any citizen under his protection.
Especially his dearest friend and afterlife-long partner.
"Sally?" Jack asked softly, reaching for her hand. "Sally, dearest?"
It took the ragdoll a moment to emerge from her troubled thoughts. She looked around at her husband, biting her lip. Sally grabbed his skeletal hand with a surprisingly strong grip, rubbing the top of his wedding ring with a small thumb. She glanced down at their intertwined hands before lifting her gaze to his face, fear stark on her stitched features.
"I'm sorry, Jack. It's just...something awful is coming, and I can't tell you anything about it! What if it is Clive that's in danger? Or any of our children? Or even Lock, Shock, and Barrel? If anyone gets hurt because I couldn't warn them in time, I – I don't know if I could bear it!"
Jack frowned, feeling an ache in his phantom heart for his wife. Sally being afraid – truly, terribly afraid – was painful enough for Jack. But adding potential guilt on top of it? Jack was no stranger to that particular emotion, but he had actually done something wrong to earn it, Sally had not! He was not about to let Sally subject herself to it without cause.
Jack raised his free hand to Sally's face, brushing a yarn-like strand of hair out of her face. "Sally, if something happens, it won't be your fault at all! You're doing everything you can with what information you have right now. And I promise you, I'll do everything I can to stop whatever is coming."
Jack leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Sally's. "We are not allowing anything to harm the kids. Or anyone else, for that matter."
Sally stared into Jack's eye-sockets. Slowly, hesitatingly, she gave her husband an uncertain smile. "In my mind, I know that I'm trying my best. That we'll do everything we can. But...it's difficult to convince my heart of that fact."
Jack nodded. "I understand that too well. I'll admit, if I linger too long on the possibilities, my own guilt and worry threatens to overwhelm me."
"Me too, Jack." Sally paused, frowning in thought. "Maybe...after we find Clive, if we don't find out why I didn't have a premonition...maybe we can try to find out why. It could be just a natural part of growing older, like how humans can lose their ability to see or hear, but...that doesn't feel right."
"I don't think that explanation feels right either." Jack agreed, shaking his skull. "Perhaps the witches might have an answer for it. Or Dr. Finkle –"
Jack cut off the Doctor's name, clamping his jaw shut as he studied his wife's expression with a sudden uncertainty. While the relationship between Sally and Dr. Finklestein had gotten steadily better over the years, it was still somewhat strained, and Jack wasn't sure how Sally would take suggesting her creator as someone who could help. The skeleton felt rather foolish for bringing him up.
"Dr. Finklestein." Sally finished for him. "I don't think he'll be able to help much. He could never sufficiently explain my premonitions no matter how hard he tried. If Helgamine and Zeldaborn can't figure out what's going on, I can ask, but..." She shook her head. "I doubt he'll have the answers."
The ragdoll smiled softly at Jack. The skeleton relaxed, his shoulders loosing from the tense position he had been unconsciously holding. "Then we'll go to Helgamine and Zeldaborn. Might as well, I sent the Mayor to them to discuss the plans for next Halloween. And I did promise him I'd come back before two."
Sally dropped her smile. "Do you really think it's a good idea to tell the Mayor about this?"
"Not at all, he's already fretting about the trio and the delay in planning." Jack admitted, tapping his chin as he thought. He could just imagine the politician's reaction to Sally's current issue. The poor man would panic at best, and possibly give himself a heart attack at worst. Jack had no intention of putting the Mayor through such stress, especially since neither he or Sally could tell him what's going to go so wrong. "I'll take him elsewhere while you talk to Helgamine and Zeldaborn."
"That would probably be for the best." Sally agreed. "Besides, you two have been delayed enough as it is. You can continue with the planning for next Halloween." The ragdoll added, tapping Jack in the middle of his sternum.
Jack opened his mouth to point out how likely he'll be too preoccupied to plan properly, but the faint sound of rough-hewn singing caught both of their attention. The King and Queen turned towards the source, away from the other citizens, at the other end of the street that led to the outskirts. They almost missed the sight of a walking bathtub tromping out of town, carrying three very familiar trick-or-treaters.
"You would think," Jack said, frowning at the suspiciously convenient timing, "that those three would be staying far away from town after what they've done."
"Yes, I would." Sally narrowed her eyes after the retreating trio, as suspicious as her husband.
Jack turned to Sally. "If I know those three at all, they're definitely up to something."
Sally nodded her agreement. "I think you better talk to them first."
"Yes, but –"
"I'll go look for Clive while you talk to them." Sally interrupted before Jack could ask the obvious question. "It'll be faster if we split up."
Jack couldn't argue with that. "Alright. I'll talk to Lock, Shock, and Barrel, and perhaps find out what precisely they were doing talking to Clive. Maybe it was a one time thing after all." Jack added hopefully.
Sally bit her lip. "You don't believe that, do you?"
"...No, I don't at all." Jack sighed. "I'm still – surprised, that's all. I mean, out of all our kids, Clive seemed to be the least likely to befriend the trio, don't you think Sally?"
"Yes...but maybe that's why he did." Sally said quietly. "I wonder sometimes if he feels the need to prove himself. Didn't the Mayor say that he was asking Lock, Shock, and Barrel how to be better at scaring?"
"If Clive wants to be better at scaring, why didn't he ask me for help?" Jack muttered. He couldn't help but feel a little hurt at the idea of his son preferring to ask the town's notorious troublemakers for help over him. Jack was not only the scariest monster in town, he was Clive's father. Did he do something to make Clive not want to ask him? Jack couldn't think of any reason, but the skeleton still felt another stab of guilt.
"You can ask him when we find him." Sally suggested. "But first –" Sally glanced in the direction of the trick-or-treaters. "Let's make sure those three aren't going to put a prank like those magicked pumpkins again."
"Right!" Jack turned and started towards the gates out of town. He stopped, sudden inspiration striking, spinning back around and jogging back to his wife. "After we get this whole mess cleared up, how about you, me, and the kids go out for lunch tomorrow, after the storm clears? There was a new place over on the corner of Gorey Street and Gammell Drive that I've been meaning to try out. Ned and Bertha told me they make the most horrible bat-and-belladonna soup in all of Halloween Town."
Sally beamed. "That's a wonderful idea! Er, but the trick-or-treaters?" She added, grimacing slightly as she looked around Jack. They could barely hear the trio's singing anymore, and the bathtub had disappeared from sight.
"Oh, right, right! I'll be back in a bit!" Jack leaned down and kissed Sally lightly on her lovely, misaligned lips. He grinned at her, before once again turning to follow Lock, Shock, and Barrel out of town.
"Love you Jack!" Sally called.
"Love you too!" The skeleton waved at her before slipping out of sight, following the retreating trio of children.
Jack caught up to the trio as they left Halloween Town, shadowing their steps unseen and unheard. Even when one of the trick-or-treaters looked back to check for potential pursuers (usually Barrel), the skeleton would slipped into a hiding place – a shadowy space between buildings, the branches of scraggy trees – and they would soon turn back around. He had more than enough practice as the Pumpkin King to avoid their notice easily. Lock, Shock, and Barrel would not see him until Jack wanted to be seen.
He had expected the trick-or-treaters to return to their tree house to wait out the storm. But instead Barrel steered the bathtub into the graveyard, increasing the speed now that they were out of town. That's peculiar, Jack thought. What are they up to? The skeleton crept closer to the walking bathtub, darting from tombstone to tombstone, eavesdropping on the children's conversation. Even with the increasingly loud thunderclaps, it was easy for Jack to do. The troublemakers, confident in their assumption of solitude, were putting no effort in keeping their voices down.
"How many do we need?" Barrel asked, pushing his mask off to lick the lollipop he almost always carried.
Shock punched her youngest cohort in the shoulder. "I don't know, as many as we can pull out of the ground! We can save the extra for later. Did you grab the earmuffs, Lock?"
Lock rolled his eyes. "Of course I did, I don't want to zonk out for a week! I'm not stupid!"
"You could've fooled me!" Shock retorted nastily.
Lock responded to the insult as well as Jack expected him to. The devil launched himself at the witch, and within seconds the two were going at it ferociously, pummeling at every inch of the other they could reach. Their masks slipped off as they fought. Barrel stepped carefully around his fighting friends to avoid an accidental blow. He broke off a branch from a passing tree and started poking the ball of swinging fists with it, grinning ear to ear as he did so. Jack shook his head at the shameful display before him.
If these three were my children, I wouldn't allow this behavior. Jack thought to himself. How could Oogie have allowed – what an idiotic question, of course that no-good waste of space would allow this kind of behavior. He probably encouraged it! Why did I ever let him take care of Lock, Shock, and Barrel in the first place?!
There wasn't any more time for self-recrimination, however. The bathtub seemed to be approaching their destination, slowing down to a relaxed stroll. Lock and Shock had ceased their fighting, sporting a considerable amount of new bruises as the bathtub jerked to a stop beside a small plot overflowing with leafy plants sporting small flowers. A wooden grave marker stood on the head of the plot, crooked and cracked, with the words SHRIEKING MANDRAKE scribbled on it in scratchy letters. Jack grimaced when he read the words.
Shrieking mandrake. A plant with humanoid-shaped roots that, when pulled from the ground, would scream like a banshee, with a similar (though more direct) deadly result of killing whatever human was unfortunate enough to hear it. They wouldn't kill anyone in Halloween Town, but the mandrake's shriek still affected them, making them fall into a deep sleep anywhere from a week to a couple of months. More inconvenient than deadly, but Jack could imagine what the trick-or-treaters would do if they got their hands on some of the plants.
Jack crept around until he was only a few feet in front of the trio, crouching behind a statue of a snarling jackal. From his position, Jack could peek in between the canine's paws and see everything the mischievous children was doing without them seeing him. He'll have to step in before they pull up any of the mandrake roots, of course. Jack had been a victim of an ill-timed mandrake harvest only once, its effects lasting only for a couple of weeks, but he had no intention of succumbing again. The embarrassment would be unbearable, the Mayor would probably die again from the Pumpkin King being out cold for so long, and no doubt Lock, Shock, and Barrel would take advantage if they found the skeleton unconscious, if admittedly only low-grade mischief like drawing rude pictures on his skull. They wouldn't dare do worse.
Lock and Barrel hopped down from the bathtub, scurrying over to the patch of mandrakes. Lock looked at the plants with a slightly bored expression, while Barrel seemed to be examining the mandrakes more closely. He even reached out and brushed some of the leaves between his chubby fingers. Jack almost sprang out of his hiding place right then and there, but Lock apparently had the same panicked thought as the skeleton, as he quickly pulled his friend away from the plants. Barrel smacked Lock, and the two would have started another fight if Shock hadn't shrieked at that very moment.
"Lock!" The witch rose up from the bathtub, waving brightly colored objects in the air while wearing a grimacing expression between horror and disgust. "Wha – what the heck are these?!"
Jack had to cover his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing. In Shock's hands were four very fluffy, very cute, and very pink earmuffs, with tiny white and red hearts dotted all over the band and cups. He recognized them as imports from Valentine-ville, as nothing so bright and cheerful would be made in the gothic town of Halloween. He had considered getting some for Sally, but the gaudy things had clashed terribly with Sally's red hair. Of course the three resident troublemakers would hate them.
"They were the only ones the shop had left!" Lock shouted defensively, crossing his arms.
"I am not wearing these!" Shock threw the earmuffs at Lock, blazing neon pink streaks against the dark tones of the graveyard. Lock barely got his arms raised in time to shield himself from the fuzzy projectiles.
"Fine, don't wear them! See if I care if you conk out for a month! Maybe then me and Barrel could actually have fun without you!"
"As if you would be able to pull off this prank without me! You two are too stupid to use these mandrakes right!"
The three began to fight among themselves. Jack didn't care, as his suspicions had been proven undeniably correct. The trio were planning another prank, and the skeleton could guess at the general idea by the use of mandrakes. He sighed irritably to himself. Did those three simply not wish to be better? How many times had Jack been over this with them?
Jack stood up, now within plain sight of the children. The trick-or-treaters didn't see him, intent on their childish squabbling. Jack inched forward, slowly, giving them plenty of time to notice his presence. They never did. The pranksters had escalated their fighting from verbal to physical, punching and hitting and kicking each other. Even when the Pumpkin King towered over them, the friends continued to wallop each other and ignore the scowling adult above them.
These three, I swear. Jack sighed again. He stepped forward, stretching his skull into a demonic expression, shrieking like the mandrakes the children were planning to harvest. The trick-or-treaters yelped at the sight of the terrifying skeleton, scrabbling away from him and leaping into the bathtub. Jack switched his expression back from scary to disapproval as the trio peeked over the lip of the tub.
"Apparently, having to pick blood aphids by hand in the pumpkin patch for three months isn't a good enough punishment for you three. Another prank, really?"
The trick-or-treaters looked at each other. "I don't know why pranking people is such a crime anyway." Lock muttered, folding his arms and glaring up at Jack.
"It isn't when the prank doesn't involve large-scale property damage and the delay of Halloween preparations." Jack informed Lock, matching the devil glare for glare. "If your pranks were in good fun –"
"They are fun!" Barrel protested.
"They're fun for you three, but not for anyone else! If they were, or if you would put your talents to good use – and yes, you three do have talent – I wouldn't be lecturing you right now! Do I need to remind you what damage those pumpkin creatures did?"
"Ugh, we've heard this lecture already." Shock complained.
"And you'll hear it again and again until it gets through your heads! Halloween preparation was delayed for a month, a month! The Vampire Brothers are still patching up the holes your pumpkins made in their home – while avoiding being burned by the sunlight, by the way – my Mary lost the majority of her drawings to one of those creatures, and I could go on and on –"
"As if you weren't already." Lock grumbled.
"Couldn't Mary just make more drawings, anyway?" Barrel asked.
Jack slapped his forehead with the metacarpals of his hand. "That is not the point! Can't you three take any responsibility for your actions?!"
The trio shook their heads. Jack might have been impressed with the audacity of the pranksters if he wasn't so irritated with them. Jack, you're supposed to talk to them about Clive, not lecturing them! Hard as it was, the skeleton restrained himself from continuing on with his useless lecture. Jack sighed again as he squared his shoulders.
"Look, speaking of my kids, I've heard that Clive had talked to you a couple of days before Halloween. May I ask what you were talking about?"
If Jack had a proper stomach, it would have dropped at the glances the trick-or-treaters gave each other. His already improbable hope that Clive had talked to the trio only once shriveled up into nothingness. "Come on, what were you talking about?"
"Nothing!" The trio said in overly friendly tones.
Jack frowned skeptically at them. "Don't lie. I know it wasn't just nothing."
"It was!" Shock insisted.
"He was just asking us questions about stuff!" Barrel piped in.
"He was really annoying!" Lock added.
Shock smacked Lock. "Shut up!"
Jack ignored the flash of anger at the insult towards his son for now. "What kind of questions?"
"Oh, you know," Shock put on a tone that was supposed to be casual, but Jack could hear the worry straining her voice underneath it. "Just stuff. Scaring tips, mostly. He asked why we live in the tree house outside of town. And why we don't have parents. And why everyone hates us."
"I don't hate you –"
"My point is, just normal stuff!" Shock looked at her friends. "Right, guys?"
"Right! Just normal stuff!" Barrel nodded far too enthusiastically. "Normal stuff that definitely won't make you mad!"
"Barrel!" Shock and Lock yelled at their youngest friend.
"You know, if you're going to lie, you could at least be convincing about it." Jack sighed. "Let me just – get to the point. Did Clive help you with the pumpkin creatures?"
Barrel looked as if he wanted to answer him, but a quick elbow to the side made the younger boy shut his mouth. "No, he didn't." Lock said, looking at the skeleton with an almost defiant stare. "He just wanted to hang out with us, unlike everyone else in this stupid town."
Jack knew the devil boy was lying about Clive's involvement in their prank. Yet, that last sentence made the skeleton reconsider his assumptions about the whole situation. Lock's tone, and the faces of his cohorts, were too bitter for that to be a lie. Jack had presumed that the pranksters had been manipulating his son into helping them, but now he wasn't so sure. Why would Lock, Shock, and Barrel be so adamant on not tattling on Clive? Especially when it was clear Jack knew? Jack wasn't completely convinced of their sincerity – maybe they still needed him for other pranks, maybe they thought they would get into more trouble if Jack knew they got his son involved – but he now considered that maybe the trio did simply crave some positive attention.
As usual, Sally, you seem to have the right idea. Jack crouched next to the bathtub, eye-sockets level with the trick-or-treaters. The trio took a step back, fear flickering across their pale faces. "If you want to be friends with Clive – truly and sincerely – I'm not going to stop you. Even if you had him help you with your prank." They looked at each other, bewildered. "Not without supervision, mind you – at least, not until I can trust you. And if you end up hurting Clive or anyone else, I will revoke my permission with due haste, and the consequences will be severe."
"Banishment?" Barrel asked, a quiver in his voice revealing his fear. Apparently the pranksters had heard some of the less forgiving opinions concerning them. Lock and Shock glanced at Barrel, clearly not wanting to be the ones to ask Jack, yet glad Barrel was the one to do it. Jack wondered what to say to them.
He had been adamantly against banishing the trio to the harsh Hinterlands. The Pumpkin King didn't like to do it, and only did so when a monster's crimes were unforgivable and done with no remorse. However, deliberately and continuously harming others qualified a monster for banishment immediately. If Oogie Boogie had survived the showdown against Jack after the latter's disastrous Christmas, he would have been banished from their town for good. If the trick-or-treaters did hurt someone, acting the same way their former "caretaker" had to the pain of others, Jack would have no choice. And if they dared to harm his own bone-and-marrow, the skeleton certainly would do so without remorse.
Yet, they were still children. Eternal children, yes, part of the group of Halloween children that would never grow old, but time had not affected their childlike mindsets. And Jack did not want to imagine children wandering the dangerous wilderness outside their borders, no matter how mean or cruel they may be.
"If the circumstances calls for it. But I hope it won't come to that." Jack added, honest yet gentle.
Jack never found out how the trio would have reacted to his words. At that moment, a quiet voice called out, "Hey guys, I got the – oh – oh no."
Standing a few feet away from the back of the walking bathtub, clutching a small black-and-orange bag in his hands, was Jack's youngest child. All of Jack and Sally's children inherited Jack's skeletal looks, yet the eight-year-old Clive took after his mother as much as he could while still remaining a skeleton. His eye-sockets, staring wide at his father, were shaped like Sally's, large and expressive. His mouth was like Sally's too, small and delicate instead of wide and grinning. Clive even had a lumpy birthmark running across his forehead that looked like a stitch, dark cerulean against a blue-white skull. A remnant from his mother, Dr. Finklestein had suggested when he examined Clive as a newborn. Not that it was easily seen under the messy locks of auburn hair curling out from Clive's head. Clive peered out from beneath his bangs, teeth clenched in a guilty grimace as he waited for the inevitable.
Jack was beginning to feel like a bellows with all the sighing he was doing. "Well," the skeleton said as he stood up, placing his hands on his hips. "I would say I'm surprised at you three lying to me, but that would make me just as much a liar as you."
Clive blinked, swiveling his head towards the trio. "You still didn't tell on me?" He asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
"Of course we didn't!" Lock gave the little skeleton an offended glare. "We're not snitches, you big dummy!"
"Lock, if you continue to insult my son, I will personally glue those earmuffs to your ears." Jack warned the devil child, frowning at him. The threat of having such adorable abominations glued to his head was enough for Lock to reluctantly close his mouth. The elder skeleton's skepticism crept back into his mind. Perhaps the three troublemakers merely kept quiet out of some sort of prankster principle against being tattletales. As soon as the thought came to him, Jack tried to shake off the doubt clinging to it. No matter what the Mayor or anyone else in Halloween Town thought, assuming the worst won't get him anywhere with these three. There had to be some good in the trick-or-treaters. There just had to be.
But that buried decency had yet to reveal itself, and until then, Jack would just have to handle the problem before him as both father and King. He walked over to his son and knelt in front of Clive. The younger skeleton flinched, taking a step backwards and yanking the sack up to his chin. Jack felt an ache seeing the way his child looked at him, fear and guilt and shame mixed together into a rather unpleasant expression. Jack had seen that kind of look on his kids before, whenever they had gotten in trouble, but he had never liked seeing it even under less serious circumstances.
"Clive," Jack asked, trying to look as understanding as possible. "Can you explain yourself?"
"Oh sure, Clive doesn't get the lecture!"
"Lock, I'm warning you –" Jack growled, spinning his skull towards the devil.
This time Lock refused to be cowed. "You didn't ask us to explain ourselves. You just went straight to the lecture and punishment!" He pointed at Jack accusingly. "You're playing favorites with your kids, Skellington! That's not fair!"
"Yeah, where's his punishment?!" Shock agreed with Lock, which to Jack signaled just how much the witch was irritated by the presumed unfairness. "Stop being nice to your son!"
"Make him pick blood aphids, Jack!" Barrel added. "Lots of blood aphids!"
Clive glared over his father's shoulder at the three trick-or-treaters. "If you guys are going to be like this, I'll take these back." He threatened, hefting up the bag in his hand. Jack heard the clink of glass objects bumping together even over the rumbling of the storm. Jack's displeasure at Clive's clear disobedience was tempered by his relief at his assertiveness. His son wasn't as intimidated by the trio as the skeleton had feared.
"Ugh, your dad knows anyway, you might as well!" Shock said, throwing her hands up in the air. "The prank's ruined!"
Jack rubbed the tips of his phalanges on his temple. "I for one shall shed no tears over its ruination. Speaking of which," Jack held his hand out to Clive. "May I see what you were bringing to your friends?"
Clive jerked the sack closer to his chest. For a moment, Jack thought the younger Skellington would refuse to hand it over. The elder skeleton frowned at him, parental disapproval written all over his face. Clive avoided his gaze as he relinquished the bag, preferring to stare at his pointed shoes than face his father's disappointment. Jack wanted to reassure him, but Lock's accusation of him playing favorites stung, and Jack refused to prove the little brat right. Despite that, Jack did nod at his son, smiling slightly. He heard one of the trick-or-treaters blow a raspberry at his back, but he ignored their juvenile indignation as he peeked into the sack.
Most of the items were things Jack had expected from the pranksters' attempt at harvesting shrieking mandrakes. Garden gloves, trowels, several glass vials in different sizes. A package of cockroach cookies, no doubt to be either laced with shrieking mandrake or eaten by the trick-or-treaters (depending on if they can restrain themselves, which Jack thought very unlikely). But one item made Jack blinked, then look up at Clive and the trio with an incredulous glance. "So who's the bottle of Coffin Dust cologne for?"
Clive bit his lip, looking more guilty by the minute. "W-we were going to give it to the Mayor as a present after putting mandrake juice in it." The little skeleton admitted.
For one brief moment of insanity, Jack wondered if the anxiety-ridden politician would actually benefit from such a prank. Sanity quickly returned when Jack realized how the Mayor would react after weeks of mandrake-induced sleep. "I doubt he would much appreciate it."
The skeleton glanced at the silvery-gray bottle before closing the bag. Another boom of thunder shook the air around them. Jack looked up at the storm clouds, frowning to himself. "Now, normally, I would take all of you back to town, but since you haven't actually pulled this prank yet, and with the storm in mind, I think I'll have to wait until tomorrow to dish out your punishments. And yes, that includes you Clive."
And I need to talk to Sally again. Finding that Clive had helped with the trio's prank, and was going to do so again, made Jack reconsider the idea of allowing the young skeleton to remain friends with Lock, Shock, and Barrel. How effective would a friendship with those three really be in changing them? And more importantly, was it worth risking his son being influenced into bad behavior by the trio? Jack wasn't sure what was best in this situation, and that made worry weigh heavily in his rib cage.
"So, I think it's best if for now, we just go home before the storm hits us. And I will make sure you three actually go home instead of swinging back here when I'm gone." Jack added, glaring at Barrel, who had glanced over at the shrieking mandrake patch. The youngest trick-or-treater grinned sheepishly at the skeleton.
It's not even noon, and already it's been a long day, Jack thought as he herded the children out of the graveyard. And I still haven't met back up with Sally or the Mayor. This had better be the last of today's surprises!
"Do you think they're lonely in that tree house Dad?"
Now that they were alone, Jack took the chance to study his son. The younger Skellington watched the trick-or-treaters return to the rickety building clinging to the tree, his red hair tossed about by the stormy gale. He was fidgeting with his hands. It reminded Jack of how Sally would do the same when she was nervous, how she twisted her wedding ring when she told him about her missing premonition. The memory sent a shiver down his spine, one that was caused by neither chill nor scare, but by disturbing uncertainty. The elder skeleton unconsciously touched his own ring with the tips of his bony fingers, the black-and-orange bag swaying on his hand.
"I don't know, Clive. Lock, Shock, and Barrel have each other, but...I imagine it would be very lonely out here."
Clive didn't speak again for awhile after the two skeletons turned their backs on the trio's tree house and started walking back towards town. Jack sensed that his son was deliberating over his next words, his eyebrow ridges furrowed together in deep thought, his hands still fidgeting. Jack still wanted an explanation from Clive, yet the way the young skeleton kept looking back in the direction of the tree house made Jack wait for Clive to begin the conversation. When the tree house disappeared from view, Clive looked up at his father, face twisted up in concern.
"Dad, I – I'm sorry. I did help with the pumpkin creatures. I –" Clive paused, looking like his confession was almost literally painful for him. "I gave them the idea, and I got the spell book and some of the ingredients to do it. I didn't steal anything," Clive added quickly, "I refuse to do that, that's mean –"
"And causing destruction across town isn't?" Jack asked sharply. Too sharply, Jack realized, as Clive flinched and took a step back. The bone man immediately softened his tone, crouching down and placing the sack beside him. The skeleton put his hand on Clive's shoulder. "I'm sorry for snapping at you Clive, but you do realize how serious this is?"
"Y-yes, I do." Clive nodded, looking down and tugging on the sleeve of his midnight-blue sweater. "I just – I just thought that since I didn't really have any friends –" Jack flinched, another stab of guilt hitting a bullseye on his conscience "– and Lock, Shock, and Barrel didn't have friends either, maybe I could be their friend."
"I admire your willingness to befriend them when no one else will, but –"
"They're not as bad as everyone makes them out to be, Dad!"
Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow ridge. "I've known them for decades, Clive. Decades of mean-spirited pranks that are annoying nuisances at best, if not destructive pandemonium at worst! And considering I just caught them – and you – trying to gather mandrakes for a prank a month after the last one, I'm not convinced."
Clive glowered at his father, a surprisingly angry expression that startled Jack with its intensity. "I bet you haven't really talked to them like I have."
He's a child like them, after all, they just might listen to him! "Well...I guess I do go straight into a lecture whenever they get caught. But don't you dare tell Lock I said he was right, he'll hold it over me for the rest of my afterlife."
Clive blinked. "You're going to let me see them again?"
Jack hesitated. With every bit of new information he gained, his uncertainty about the idea of Clive being friends with the town's notorious trick-or-treaters had grown. He didn't know what would be right for Clive or even for Lock, Shock, and Barrel. Yet Sally had been right about the years of futile attempts at getting the three to change. They had to try something different.
"Yes, but under strict supervision. I trust you at least had good intentions, but I want to make sure Lock, Shock, and Barrel aren't just manipulating you for their own uses."
Clive opened his mouth as if to argue with Jack, but then seemingly decided against it. "If – if it'll prove to you that they're not as bad as they seem, then that's okay."
Jack smiled at his son. "I hope that they do."
"Really?"
"Really! I would love to be proven wrong!" Jack stood up, picking up the sack with one hand and wiping off his trousers with the other. "And I'll admit that my lectures haven't done any good at all in this situation."
"No offense Dad, but that's kind of obvious."
Jack blinked at the young skeleton, then he burst out laughing, startling Clive. "I'm so sorry, but your mother would tell you that I have a tendency to be utterly oblivious to the obvious."
"Is that why Mom tells us to be direct when telling you stuff?" Clive asked.
"That's right! Otherwise everything will go right over your dad's skull!" Jack ruffled Clive's hair playfully.
"Dad! Stop it!" Clive swatted Jack's hand away, but the small smile gave away his enjoyment of his father's teasing.
Jack grinned at his son. "You protest, but you'd miss it if I didn't tease you once in awhile."
The old skeleton turned towards Halloween Town, the grin slipping off his face. "Speaking of your mom, she went looking for you while I talked to Lock, Shock, and Barrel."
Clive dropped his own smile. "Is she mad at me?"
Jack shook his head. "Of course not, she's just concerned. In fact, she was the one who suggested that you being friends with Lock, Shock, and Barrel could be a good thing."
"Is that why you're giving them a chance?"
"Yes, her advice was a big part of it. The majority of it, I would say," Jack crouched in front of Clive once again. "But you should understand Clive, despite my skepticism, I don't think they're truly irredeemable. As much as they can frustrate me, Lock, Shock, and Barrel...they're just kids, like you. I think they just need the right push in the proper direction."
Clive nodded. "And – and that's where I can help, right?"
"Absolutely! From what you told me, they talk to you far more openly than they ever have with me."
"Yeah...they think you're a stuffy old party pooper that likes to ruin their fun." Clive admitted, immediately averting his eye-sockets from Jack's, clearly expecting his father to be angry.
Instead, Jack chuckled at the insult. "Well, when you join them picking blood aphids, you can tell them that if their pranks weren't so destructive and more in good fun, I wouldn't have to ruin anything. Remind them that other children of Halloween – including your siblings – have pulled pranks before without me having to punish them for it."
Clive made a face. "Do I have to pick blood aphids Dad? They're so...bitey."
Jack put on a tone of mock parental disapproval. "Clive, you know that if I give Lock, Shock, and Barrel a certain punishment for their prank, then it's only fair that you have the same punishment for the same prank. Besides, that's what gargoyle gloves are for." Jack ruffled Clive's curls again.
"Dad, you're gonna tangle my hair!" Clive tried to smooth out said tangles, without much success. "And...I guess that's fair."
"That's my little skeleton! Now," Jack said as he stood up, "we should go find your mother before she ends up walking the entirety of Halloween Town looking for you."
"Or get caught in the rain." Clive looked up at the looming thunderclouds. "We should go home and get Zero to find Mom. It'll be faster."
"I was wondering where he went off to." Jack looked towards the graveyard. Before Jack could say anything else, a high-pitched barking echoed against the hills, turning the attention of father and son back towards town. Jack grinned at the sight of the spectral canine flying towards the skeletons.
"Zero! Here boy, we need you to find Sally! Zero?"
Jack frowned as the ghost dog ignored his command. Instead Zero barked at them constantly, drifting back and forth between Jack and Clive, wanting the two skeletons to follow him. The way Zero whined and whimpered, his glowing nose flickering uncertainly, set Jack's nerves on edge with sudden apprehension. Clive gasped, spiking the apprehension Jack was feeling.
"Sandy Claws is in town?" The young skeleton exclaimed, whipping his head up at Jack.
"What – Clive, it's less than twenty days before Christmas, Sandy would be too busy to – Clive!"
The youngster took off running, chasing after Zero as they followed the dirt path back to Halloween Town. Jack had no choice but to run after them, dropping the bag unconsciously. Despite his long legs, Jack barely kept up with the duo, Clive racing ahead of his father with the vitality of youth. Jack didn't give any thought to his son's speed, as Clive's words kept him occupied.
Sandy Claws can't be here, it's far too close to Christmas! He wouldn't have time for a casual visit, why would he be here?!
Unless Santa wasn't in Halloween Town for a casual visit. If he was here so close to Christmastime, it couldn't be for a good reason. Jack recalled Sally's missing premonition, and the trepidation his wife had felt, and the skeleton felt that same trepidation as the gates to town rose before them. It grew as he saw the crowd gathering in the town square, confusion on the voices of every monster. Jack reached forward and grabbed Clive before he could charge into the crowd.
"We need to find your mother." Jack muttered, craning his neck and hoping that none of the citizens see him before he could locate Sally. He spotted the ragdoll immediately, standing next to the dragon fountain, speaking to a certain holiday leader dressed in red. Jack felt his trepidation spike into pure un-Halloween-like dread at the sight of Santa Claus, which was quite unusual for the skeleton.
"Jack!"
As soon as the voice cried out his name, the citizens of Halloween swarmed around the Pumpkin King. Jack drew Clive close to his side, hand covering the boy's shoulder as the monsters started peppering Jack with questions. Even discounting the years of correcting their initial misconceptions since the Christmas fiasco, all the citizens knew, from the madness their own holiday preparations became when October arrived, that for the head of a holiday to leave their holiday world at such a close date to said holiday was a very serious situation. And they wanted answers Jack couldn't yet give them.
Jack waved his hand in an attempt to stem the tide of inquiries. "Everyone, please! Let us through!"
The crowd slowly parted, allowing Jack and Clive to reach Sally and Santa. Zero flew over to Sally's side, nuzzling her hand with his nose. The ragdoll straightened up, biting her lip in worry as her eyes flickered from Jack to Santa and back. Now that Jack wasn't surrounded, he could see the Mayor standing on Santa's other side, his face anxious and grimacing. An expression that, to Jack's dismay, was reflected on the jolly old elf himself. No, Jack realized, Santa's expression was worse than anxiety. The Leader of Christmas was distressed, and disturbed by something.
Jack rushed over to the fountain, Clive close on his heels. "Sandy Claws, I didn't expect you to visit so close to Christmas!"
"Normally I wouldn't, Jack, but I'm afraid this is a matter of grave importance." A boom of thunder accompanied Santa's ominous words. He sounded tired as he said them, stressed, and Jack could hear a twinge of fear underlying them. The Pumpkin King felt sympathy for his fellow holiday leader.
"I'm truly sorry to hear that. Let's head up to my home, and you can explain everything." Jack turned to the crowd of Halloween Town citizens, who were all listening with a worried ear. "I understand you're all concerned, but until I know what's going on, please continue as normally as you can! I will let you know something as soon as I'm able!"
The crowd disperse reluctantly. How quickly had the mood of the town change from excitement to worry! Jack waited until there was no one close enough to overhear him before turning back to Santa, though he noticed groups of citizens still watching him nervously and – was that disapproval? Jack looked again, but the small group he had noticed – consisting of two of the Vampire Brothers, a hag, a gorgon, and a zombie – wasn't looking at him anymore, but engaged in their own conversation. But the skeleton could have sworn the expressions on their faces hadn't been the frowns of concern nor worry. Jack squinted at the grouping. That was peculiar…
Too many peculiar things in one day, and so far all had been neither good nor wanted. Jack decided that he would deal with whatever that was later (if it wasn't just in his imagination). He shook his skull before returning his attention back to his visitor.
"Anyway...if you please, Mr. Claws, I think we're all wondering what's going on."
A/N: I just realized I haven't been putting in the notes/inspiration music like I do on Ao3, so let me remedy that with this chapter.
First, outside of a few elements from the games, I'm just using the main movie and the Closing track for this story, just to make things simpler for myself.
And thus we finally get to meet one of the Skellington children, and get back to the plot. Not gonna lie, I had debated rather or not to include Skellington kids into this story. But after writing this chapter, I'm very glad I decided to do so, as I quite liked writing Dad!Jack. And we'll be meeting the rest of Jack and Sally's kids in the next chapter.
-Both "Valentine-ville" and the inspiration for the pumpkin creatures come from an early version of the TNBC script.
-Gorey Street and Gammell Drive are named after Edward Gorey and Stephen Gammell.
Now, next update will be posted at the latest on August 10th.