A/N: Happy Friday! Check me out, I didn't take an obscene amount of time to update this time, wooo! Chapter five, longest chapter thus far. I also break my streak of "Haven't said the F-word yet" in this chapter. But if you consider that Something Quite Peculiar was 64 chapters, that means I went 68 chapters without using it, which is really impressive. No, really, it is, that is my favorite swear word. Anyway, the character that uses it in this chapter is one of my favorites, I'm glad I was able to bring him back for this, and I feel like it's appropriate that he's the one to break my streak. I hope you enjoy it.

ForeverACharmedOne, hopefully I'll get to show more fluff, even if it's not Rowack fluff! I do like Erato and North, especially since that was not my initial plan, like, at all. And yes, Clio and Bunny's friendship makes me happy. AkariWolfPrincess, Jack's running off with healing intentions, we'll see how that works out for him! dinohuntsmen, Jack has a plan! A poorly thought out one, but a plan.

I always love reading your thoughts, so please remember to review!

"People are always associating death with evil, but it's not evil. Death is natural. Death, Boy, is beautiful."

Chapter Five: Friends On The Other Side

"Knock-knock!" Thalia announced, appearing out of thin air with Euterpe clinging to her arm.

"You know, saying that does not excuse the fact that you did not actually knock," Arachne said, her numerous eyes never leaving the dress form in front of her as she carefully pinned the fabric.

"Oh, what are you so concerned about? Afraid I might show up unannounced and barge in on you with your other girlfriend?" Thalia said scandalously. She approached the redhead and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Arachne's mouth twitched into a smile involuntarily, eyes still fixed on the dress form as she attempted to play it off as though Thalia had no affect on her.

"I just like having some kind of warning is all," Arachne said.

"I'm sorry, Ara, I thought Thalia would have given you a heads-up," Euterpe said, rocking on her heels awkwardly.

"Well I knew you were coming today," Arachne said. With one of her free arms, she gestured toward the coral-colored gown on another dress-form. "I've just got a few finishing touches and it'll be done."

Euterpe approached the gown, running her fingers along the skirt with a slight frown. "It looks really pretty, thank you."

"You don't seem thrilled," Arachne said, finally tearing her eyes away from her current project.

"Well, you know it's not really my style recently," Euterpe said. Arachne had gotten used to incorporating a lot of leather and studs in Euterpe's clothing in the past few decades. The youngest Muse still sported facial piercings and a fauxhawk.

The dress on the dress form was considerably more conservative, and not the least bit rock n' roll.

"Calliope said we all need something nice to wear just in case we have to negotiate with someone particularly judge-y," Thalia said with a roll of the eye.

"When this is all done, by all means, take a pair of scissors to it, make it more… you," Arachne said.

"You'd be all right with that?" Euterpe said, cocking a brow.

"Just bring me back the scraps so I can put them to use," Arachne said with a shrug. "How are the negotiations going, anyway?"

"Dead ends, mostly," Euterpe said.

"Half of the people we talk to suddenly won't associate with us as long as we're associated with Apollo," Thalia elaborated. "And a good deal of the other half say they're only in as long as we're still associated with him."

"Apollo has always been polarizing," Arachne said. "What side is Athena on?"

"Anti-Apollo, last I heard," Euterpe said.

"Well between that and the fact that you all continue to associate with me, you might want to give up on her," Arachne said with a shrug.

"We know you don't like her, Ara, but it's better to have her on our side than not," Thalia said.

"She has the problem with me," Arachne mumbled as though talking about Athena left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Anyway, are you and Anansi on good terms?" Thalia asked.

"Well, I mean, we're not on bad terms," Arachne said, clearly puzzled. "Why?"

"Because Calliope said that if Jack doesn't get his shit together, I'm going to have to talk to all the trickster gods and that is a lot of pressure! They're tricksters! I already told Calliope she's going to have to go with me to make sure they don't try to pull a fast one on us and I thought maybe you could be some help with Anansi if I have to talk with him," Thalia said.

"I mean, I can try. I think he's mostly over trying to trick me. He said it wasn't any fun anymore," Arachne said. "Are you not considered a trickster?"

"No, I like a practical joke as much as the next person but I'm just the personification of comedy. Which means it would probably be hilarious if they tricked me, but not beneficial to us at all," Thalia said with a slight pout.

"Unfortunately the trickster spirit on our team is… well, not living up to that title right now," Euterpe said. "It's really sad, actually. I don't think he's even made a sarcastic comment at the recent meetings."

"He hasn't even gone to a few of them," Thalia said.

"Jack's in no state to try and out-trick another trickster," Euterpe said. "No one even knows where he is."

"Calliope, Sandy, and North knocked him out finally and he was out for basically two days before he up and left," Thalia explained. Arachne shook her head.

"What a mess," the designer said. "Maybe if you're lucky, Pitch doesn't want to deal with the tricksters either, then it won't matter."

"Well, there's still Jack's mental state," Euterpe sighed, gently swaying the fluffy skirt of the dress side to side with her hand. "I think he really needs a friend right now."

"Well, he and Cupid went out and harassed people with rejection arrows on Valentine's Day, so there's that," Thalia shrugged. "He's been acting weird lately too."

"Right? He hasn't even talked to Tooth since January, which doesn't make any sense," Euterpe said.

"Well, he had a crush on her from afar for centuries and then they finally start talking again in the middle of a very tense situation… perhaps she didn't live up to the idea he had of her," Arache suggested.

"Maybe, and I mean she did get pretty suspicious of him when Pitch suggested that he might be a traitor but I didn't figure he'd hold a grudge over that, especially since she apologized and we all know how protective she is of her fairies," Thalia said. "But before all that, at the ball and everything, I really thought they were getting close."

"He's barely talking to any of us either, though, like he'll check in with Erato just because he knows she'll worry first but I swear he won't look me in the eye the last few times I saw him," said Euterpe.

"Hmph, sounds like a guilty conscious to me," Arachne commented, returning her attention to her dress form. "But, that's just an observation."

Clear, blue waves sparkled in the summer sun, warm and inviting and entirely unprepared for what was coming next. Flying low, Jack dragged his staff and feet along the surface, smiling as the water froze in abstract shapes.

The ice quickly began to melt as he continued forward, riding the icy slopes he created and tasting the salt in the air. It had been months since he had last visited a beach.

He actually really enjoyed beaches and oceans. He loved the shapes the waves would make when frozen, and Mother Nature never got mad at him as long as that ice melted without anyone noticing.

Not to mention, those that visited the beach in the summer were almost always having a good time. They were on vacation. They were having fun.

He couldn't make it snow but the energy was nice to be around, to observe from a spot in the shade where the heat wouldn't be as intense.

The Guardians surely wouldn't think to look for him here, at least not right away. North had eyes everywhere, after all, and would find out his whereabouts soon enough.

Hopefully Jack would be long gone, or at least more prepared to deal with the others, by then.

As Jack reached the beach, he stepped lightly on the hot sand and raised a hand to block the sun from his eyes. A breeze rippled through the trees and people could be heard not far off going about their business.

Jack hadn't thought this through. There was nothing guaranteeing who he was looking for would even be here, or where specifically on this island he should even look.

For all Jack knew, this spirit wouldn't even talk to him.

Where would he even start?

He found a dirt path and walked along it, keeping his eyes open for anything that might help him find what he was looking for. He should have stopped by a library, done some research before just rushing straight here.

He sighed, leaning against a nearby wooden fence.

Maybe he was still sleep deprived. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

What did he really expect to get out of this?

He wasn't sure how long he had been leaning there, considering his options, before he was startled by a black mass jumping from the plants nearby and landing on the fence beside him. His mind flashed back immediately to the black masses that were the Shadow People, reaching out for their victims and quickly consuming them. He spun around quickly, his staff at the ready and heart racing.

He felt both stupid and annoyed to find that it was just a rooster. He quickly remembered that it was the middle of the day and the few remaining Shadow People would be hiding. He lowered his staff, breathing heavily as he watched the bird that had frightened him.

Covered in glossy black feathers, the bird cawed at him before fluttering down from the fence and making its way down the path. It turned back, as though to see if Jack was still there.

Jack watched the bird, baffled and still annoyed, as it cawed at him again, seeming impatient.

"You… want me to follow you," Jack said, feeling silly. The bird simply turned and continued down the path.

Was he really going to follow a rooster?

Jack briefly wondered just how terribly this could end up, and quickly realized he had no other plan. The boy sighed and followed the bird.

At least it wasn't a Shadow Person.

The rooster bobbed its head as it went, clucking softly, happily if that was at all possible. Jack ducked below low branches and looked around for any other form of life as he went.

What he found when he followed the bird around the next corner was quite the opposite. It was an old cemetery, quite full. There were several other black roosters settled around the area, seeming content to perch themselves on tombstones, almost all of which were marked with crosses.

The bird he had been following walked through the gates and Jack swallowed before stepping inside too, his grip tightening on his staff as he went.

For a moment, Jack was inclined to believe there was nothing out of the ordinary about this cemetery. It had tombstones with names engraved on the surface; it was older so the plants had been free to grow without being cut back.

But then the rooster brought him to a bench where a woman was lounging near a pepper plant. Her hair was long and red, and she was dressed in shades of purple. When shadows fell across her fair skin, Jack swore they took on the appearance of bones.

Or perhaps it was his eyes playing tricks on him. The more he looked, the more confused he became.

"Hello there, Jack Frost," she said, a seductive smile pulling at her lips as soon as she saw him. She had a slight Irish accent. "You're a bit far from home, aren't you?"

"A bit," Jack said. She plucked a pepper from the plant, setting it to her lips and biting into it without so much as wincing. She chewed slowly, eyes scanning him up and down.

"Poor Dearie, are you lost? Do stay a while. I hear you like fun," she purred, pulling herself to her feet. "I like fun myself, and the crowd I run with is rather… livelier than one might expect."

"I'm, um, I'm actually here looking for someone," Jack said nervously. It seemed that his discomfort only encouraged her as she stepped behind him and set a hand to either one of his shoulders. The woman set her cheek to his as her thumbs kneaded into his jacket.

She smelt of tobacco, rum, and hot peppers. Her cheek was unusually warm.

"You found me, didn't you?" she said. Jack shrugged out of her grasp, turning to face her. She seemed unamused by this action.

"Do you know where I can find Baron Samedi?" Jack asked.

"He said you weren't interested at the ball, change your mind?" she asked. "Letting yourself be a bit curious now that you're single?"

"What? No, I just want to talk to him," Jack said, shaking his head.

"A bit defensive, are we? Nothing to be ashamed of. I had my suspicions at the ball when you and Eros went off to the balcony to 'talk privately.' It's no secret that he isn't picky. He and his mother. But those Greek deities, they have a reputation, you know," the woman said casually. Jack couldn't remember seeing her at the ball, but judging by her behavior and what he remembered Terpsichore and Euterpe saying, this had to be Baron Samedi's wife.

"I really just need to talk to the Baron," Jack said, beginning to get frustrated.

"Really?" she said skeptically.

"Really," Jack said.

"What is it that Baron Samedi can give you that Maman Brigitte," she gestured to herself, "cannot? Aside from—"

"This has nothing to do with sex!" Jack said quickly. "I have some questions about… well, the afterlife."

"Do you think he's the only Death Loa there is?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"I honestly don't know much about it," Jack said sheepishly.

"Well, he's not. Do you know how many graves have been dedicated to me? Well—" Brigitte began before a deep, raspy chuckle cut her off.

"Jealous, are we?" From the shadows emerged a tall, thin figure, donned in a top hat. His face was painted to resemble a skull. He pulled a cigar from his lips in order to take a sip of the glass in his other hand. Before replacing the cigar, he leaned over to kiss the side of Brigitte's neck. "You can't fault the boy for finding me more appealing."

Brigitte scoffed, taking the drink from his hand. Before he had a chance to protest, she threw her head back and drained the glass.

"He doesn't know better," she said, setting the glass back in Baron Samedi's hand.

"He must have good instincts," Baron Samedi said, eying the empty glass with a frown. "Bitch."

"Bastard," she retorted.

"Harlot," he replied.

"Wanker!"

"Hussy!"

"Arse! Bastard-Wanker-Arse!"

"I love you, too," Baron Samedi said, sounding almost bored, pouring himself a new glass of rum from a bottle that had appeared from seemingly nowhere. Jack's brow furrowed, unsure how to feel about the exchange he had just witnessed.

Maman Brigitte rolled her eyes and reached forward to grab the collar of Jack's hoodie. Before he could protest, she pulled him in closer and set her mouth to his ear. "You let me know if you grow tired of him."

"Well you haven't," Baron Samedi said to his wife, blowing a ring of smoke in her direction.

"Not yet," she said with a chuckle before walking off into the shadows. She seemed to vanish, her laugh echoing eerily as she went.

"Marriage," Baron Samedi said with a shrug.

"Right…" Jack said, both incredibly curious about how the hell Baron Samedi and Maman Brigitte's marriage worked at all, and feeling as though he might not want to actually know any of the details.

"Anyway, I know why you're here and you are wasting your time, Frost," Baron Samedi said, leaning against a large tombstone nearby before flicking ash off the end of his cigar. It landed on the head of one of the roosters nearby, startling it.

"For the love of—I don't want to have sex with you or your wife!" Jack said, exasperated.

The skeletal man laughed, "Not what I meant. The boy doth protest too much."

"Well, then what?" Jack asked. Maybe the Baron somehow knew that Jack had come by to ask about the afterlife. Perhaps death deities were not in the business of discussing the affairs of the dead with the living and he was giving Jack a heads-up that he wouldn't be any help.

Although, honestly, Jack was beginning to wonder why he thought the Baron would be any help in the first place.

"We've seen you all running around, chatting everyone up for your little PR campaign. Heard whispers that the Boogeyman's got some doomsday device," Baron Samedi said. "Y'all must have fucked up big time to be scrambling like this."

Jack couldn't argue there.

"Not gonna lie, I'm looking forward to seeing what exactly you did to mess up so bad you came running to us less savory beings," the Baron continued, chuckling as he took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, holding it out to Jack in offering.

Jack shook his head to decline. The Baron took a cigarette from the package and plopped it between Jack's lips anyway, swiftly lighting it.

The winter spirit took in a sharp breath in surprise, resulting in nothing but smoke in his lungs. He pulled the cigarette away and coughed immediately, sure he looked completely ridiculous. It had to be painfully obvious that he didn't smoke.

Rowan had been able to at least fake it, as he recalled. A result of having gone to art school, he assumed. There were always groups of people smoking there.

"Hopefully it doesn't come to that," Jack said, still choking as he spoke.

"Don't get me wrong, St. Nick knows how to throw a shindig and I do enjoy those Muses, particularly the sexy mortal ones, but my family won't be taking sides in whatever you've got going on," Baron Samedi said. "Nothing personal."

Jack cleared his throat now that his coughing had calmed. "Not even Pitch's side, hm?"

"Why, because he's promising death and destruction and fear?" Baron Samedi asked, taking a long drag of his cigar. "What good does that do me?"

"Death is… kind of your thing, right?" Jack said.

"Sure it is! But why would I want to kill anyone? Kid, there are seven billion people on this planet and every single one of them is going to die. I don't need to go out of my way to help them along, thousands will die today, before even this conversation is through," said the Baron. He leaned his head back and lazily blew more rings of smoke into the air. Jack still held his cigarette to the side, not smoking it, but afraid if he put it out that he would just be given another.

"I suppose that's true," Jack said.

"People are always associating death with evil, but it's not evil. Death is natural. Death, Boy, is beautiful," Baron Samedi said, his tone proud. "Those who wish to do evil seek to use death for their own gain, of course. They hope to harness the power death has over the living. Death is terrifying because it is uncontrollable and, in most cases, final. But that is also why it is beautiful

"When you give in to the things you cannot control, when you accept that something has reached its conclusion, when you no longer fear what you do not know, that is beautiful. Death is a thing that can be beautiful and tragic and freeing and heartbreaking and ugly and horrible and a release all at once. It is not evil. It is a thing that makes equals out of all of us. So, no. My family will not be taking sides. We have no interest in either helping or preventing the inevitable. We are decidedly neutral, just as death is. You'd be hard-pressed to find any other death spirit that didn't take that stance."

Jack nodded along as the Baron spoke. While the man was clearly no stranger to parties and throwing caution (and manners) to the wind, it was obvious that he knew what he was talking about, and was quite serious and very passionate about his purpose in this world.

"I understand, I'll keep that in mind. But, um, I actually wasn't here to talk to you about taking sides at all, you see," Jack said sheepishly. How awkward to say after such an impassioned speech.

Baron Samedi sighed, glaring at Jack. "Well, what then?"

"I was hoping to talk to you about Rowan Sawyer," Jack said.

"The Mortal Muse!" Any annoyance in the Baron's face was immediately wiped away as his eyes lit up at the mention of her name. "She was fun, she knew how to drink. I heard that she died, good for her."

Jack winced. Good for her? He shook his head, urging himself to remember who he was talking to.

"Yeah, um, yeah she did," he said, his voice growing smaller against his will. He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. "I, um, well no one I've spoken with that's died can remember an afterlife, and I just… I was wondering if you could tell me if there is one and if she's there, if you've seen her, how she is?"

"Of course there's an afterlife," Baron Samedi scoffed, as though it was by far the stupidest question he had ever been asked. "Why would there be so many death spirits wandering about if everything just stopped?"

"I don't know, why is there a personification of Groundhog Day?" Jack sighed.

"Good point. Anyway, it's natural not to remember the other side if you've been there and back and aren't a death spirit of some kind," the Baron said with a shrug. "Some mortals remember bits and pieces, immortals usually don't. Probably because they'd want to go back if they did."

"That's what Polyhymnia says," said Jack.

"She's a smart lady. Giant prude, hate talking to her, terrible company, but she's a smart lady," Baron Samedi nodded. "Anyway, your lovely mortal girlfriend has, indeed, crossed over. I told her at the ball that she would like being dead, but she didn't believe me, the living hardly ever do."

"So… she's okay?" Jack said.

"Most everyone there is, Kid. When you're dead there's nothing to worry about anymore. Oh but that doesn't stop her from worrying about the people still here. They watch, you know, they like watching. Lots of them worry about the people they left behind like it's worth it to be stressed out when you're dead and can't do anything about it," the Baron shook his head slightly at the notion. Jack's heart ached as he remembered telling Rowan numerous times not to worry so much when she was alive. "But she's happy. You don't hurt over there."

"So, she's happy, but she worries," Jack said, torn between being pleased that he had some kind of answer and being, well, somewhat unsatisfied with it.

"Yes. Now, I'm not a messenger, so don't go thinking because I told you this you're gonna start getting detailed reports. I don't got time for that, you know how many souls there are over there?" Baron Samedi said, taking another drag of his cigar. "Happy, but worries. It's pretty standard-issue."

"Right, right," Jack said. "Is, um, is that all, though?"

"If you wanna know if she's coming back, that's not something I can tell, you gotta take it up with Apollo," he said, gesturing to the sun shining down above them. "Otherwise, that's it. Like I said, I'm not a messenger and I don't intend to be."

"Well, um, thanks, really. This helps, I think," Jack said. Shouldn't he be happier to learn that she was happy?

"Don't worry about the dead, it's the living that have all the problems," Baron Samedi said, setting his glass to his lips. "Now, are you sure you wouldn't like to spend the evening with my wife and I?"

"Really, really sure. Thanks," Jack said, shaking his head. "I've, uh, I've got to go."