Chapter 4

Jack struggled awake, letting out a sigh of relief to finally be free of his dreams. The dreams of searching had been plaguing him once more… but this time it was even more irritating because he had a pretty good idea what it was he'd been searching for. Not that he wanted to admit it, even to himself.

He looked around, seeing his unsettled sleep had shifted the snow around and scattered a bit of it. He didn't usually shift around in his sleep, so he found it quite irritating. He'd have to shift the snow back into place and even it out if he wanted to get comfortable again. He just stared at the snow in irritation. He was still very tired, but it didn't seem worth the bother just to get back to those unsettling dreams.

He stared straight ahead, fuming a bit… but then finally gave in, allowing his eyes to be drawn over to the little bed across the room. He tried to convince himself that he just couldn't sleep knowing there was a portal to Pitch's realm in the same room with him. Well, yes, he could convince himself of that rather easily really… but then the little irritating voice in the back his head asked why exactly it bothered him to have it there. He couldn't make himself answer that one. Well, answers were coming to mind, lots of them in fact, but none that weren't either outright lies or thoughts he didn't want to admit to.

After another fifteen minutes or so of rather heated internal debate he got up, resolving to deal with the situation head on. He had to confront Pitch and figure out what he was playing at. So he just had to go down there and face him. That was the only reason he was going anywhere near that portal!

He kept that firmly in mind as he grabbed up his staff and headed resolutely over. He didn't let himself hesitate as he crouched down and lifted the ancient bed, quickly slipping under it into the tunnel and carefully lowering it back into place before letting go of the edge and dropping. The passage curved after a bit and he found himself sliding out into the large central chamber. At least he was pretty sure it was the same room. He got up, dusting himself off as he looked around. The teeth containers and fairies were all gone of course, but so were the cages. The hollow globe was still there in the middle, though now it was covered in little glowing dots again of course. The chamber was still surrounded by the bizarre twisting staircases and random smatterings of mismatched architecture, but the middle of the chamber was clear for the most part. It seemed unsettlingly huge without the clutter around.

"Well this is a surprise." Pitch's voice said, echoing off the walls a bit before he emerged from a shadow not far from Jack. "I thought you'd wait at least a day or two before showing up."

Jack clutched his staff a bit tighter, feeling a nervous flutter in his stomach to have Pitch so close to him already. "I came to see what your game is. What do you want from me?" Jack asked, trying to sound confident.

Pitch let out a belabored sigh, "I'd rather hoped you would have dealt with your denial issues before showing up. I've been completely upfront about my intentions. What about my stated desires are still unclear to you?" He waited a few moments, but Jack wasn't able to come up with a ready reply for that. "This chamber isn't really conducive for discussions of a personal nature. Let's go somewhere a bit more comfortable, shall we? Pick a door." He said gesturing to a nearby wall that suddenly appeared and had a number of doors.

Jack wasn't sure about this, but the large chamber they were in was really quite creepy even without the cages and such, and he didn't want Pitch to think he was intimidating him, so he went over, opening a door. It was dark beyond the door at first, but as he stepped cautiously through the door the lighting came up and he found himself in a bedroom with a large bed in the middle. Well, it was against the wall, but was obviously the main focal point of the room anyway.

"I must say, I quite like where your mind is at." Pitch said in an amused tone, "Love the black linens. Very nice touch."

Jack spun on him, gripping his staff in front of him protectively. "Why exactly are we in a bedroom?" he snapped.

"Because this is where you brought us." Pitch said, strolling past him and looking the place over as if he'd never seen it before.

"Right. Those doors probably all lead here!" Jack replied quickly, trying to keep his unease out of his voice.

"Actually yes, in a way you are absolutely correct." Pitch admitted, "It didn't really matter which door you chose. Whichever one you picked would have taken you where you wanted to be. I simply allowed you to manifest a dream figment of your own creation inside my realm." He shifted his gaze around the room, noting the exposed natural wood walls and flooring, the candles in sconces on the walls for lighting and the low burning fire in the fieldstone fireplace with a handwoven hearth rug before it. Even the bed was of a somewhat rougher construction, the sturdy frame obviously made by hand. "Kind of a log cabin feel. It's quite nice really."

He glanced back at Jack, noting the way his eyes were darting around, obviously trying to deny he would have conjured such a room. "This is very interesting." Pitch mused, gazing at him intently. "You currently have two different greatest fears. One is that I will force myself on you… and the other is that I won't." He said with a wide grin.

Jack was unable to come up with a response to that. His mind was racing. Coming here had obviously been a bad decision. He looked up, watching Pitch warily as the man slowly approached him.

"I hate to tell you this, but I have absolutely no intention of forcing anything on you. I will put this as concisely as I can so there can be no misunderstanding." Pitch said as he came to a stop before Jack, hands clasped once more behind his back. "I have no illusions that you would want to have any kind of formal relationship with me, given the company you keep, and I would never ask that of you. That said… I am more than willing to do anything to you that you want me to… but only what you want me to. It has to be a conscious decision on your part. You see, the spark I feel between us is a rather rare and precious thing amongst our kind. It's been a very long time since I've had any kind of companionship. Even longer than it's been for you, in fact. The last thing I want is for this to be a onetime thing, which I'm sure is what it would be if you felt in any way coerced. I don't want you to have regrets later, but if you do I especially don't want you to be able to convince yourself that I forced anything on you. In fact if you don't feel you are ready for more adult kind of interactions, that would be fine with me. We can keep things platonic for now, let things evolve naturally if they are meant to. If you hadn't noticed, I'm an exceedingly patient man."

Jack held his ground as Pitch moved a bit closer, watching his face intently for any kind of indication Jack wanted him to stop. "I just want to be seen, Jack." Pitch said softly, "To feel…" He lifted his hand towards Jack, pausing with it a few inches from him and watching for a moment to be sure Jack didn't oppose the move before slowly moving his hand closer, gently caressing his cheek before letting his fingers slide down the side of his neck and come to rest on his shoulder. "To be felt." He whispered.

Jack's emotions were conflicting so wildly his body felt locked up, unable to do anything as Pitch slowly closed the remaining distance between them. He didn't know what it was he was expecting Pitch to do… but it definitely wasn't what he felt next. Pitch just slipped his arms around him, pulling him gently closer into a hug. Pitch took a deep breath, then let out a contented sigh that whispered warmly across the back of Jack's neck. The feeling sent a little shiver through Jack. His heart was racing, his breathing fast and a bit ragged. He couldn't figure out why his eyes were watering up… or why his own arms were slipping around Pitch. He suddenly found himself clutching Pitch to him tightly as he pressed his face into his robe.

He didn't know what he'd expected Pitch to smell like… but he certainly wasn't expecting the pleasantly musky scent that inexplicably reminded him of a warm autumn evening. The feel of him pressed against him, holding him, the warmth of his body gently radiating from him… it made Jack feel something he couldn't remember feeling since becoming Jack Frost. All those years he'd felt like nothing more than a spirit, intangible and somehow out of phase with the world around him… but in that embrace he felt solid… he felt real.

The feeling was so overwhelming it frightened him. He suddenly let go, and Pitch immediately released him and moved back several paces, obviously having felt the little flash of fear in him. Jack quickly turned away, not wanting to look at Pitch while he tried to sort out these strange feelings.

"You are always free to leave whenever you want." Pitch said softly, a hint of resignation in his voice. "You needn't crawl back up that little passage or anything. Just open any door or walk down any dark tunnel with the desire to leave and it will take you back to where you entered. I'm sure you have a lot to think about. Take as much time as you need."

Pitch turned and started moving away, looking over the room once more. "Hope you don't mind if I keep the room. It's quite cozy." He moved over to the bed, feeling the mattress. "Is this down filled? It's rather softer than I'm used to. Of course, in my day the best you could hope for was hay." He said with a little amused breath.

Jack heard the bed shift and looked over. Pitch had settled comfortably on his back on the bed. He was still in his robe, only his shoes having vanished. He was just lying there, ankles crossed, hands casually draped across his stomach as he gazed up at the ceiling.

"Perhaps a skylight…" Pitch mused half to himself.

Jack found himself just staring at the man. There was a full on emotional and psychological war raging inside him. His rational mind was spouting all the reasons why he should leave and never come back. It told him this was just a particularly loathsome mind game Pitch was using to get through his guard so he could emotionally destroy him... but his body could still practically feel those strong arms holding him so tightly, that amazing heat that radiated from him, the gentle caress of his breath against his skin. As he gazed at him, he suddenly realized Pitch's appearance had been slowly shifting ever since he'd arrived. It was losing some of its unnaturalness, slowly shifting a bit more towards the appearance he'd glimpsed in his dream… more towards how Pitch said he had looked in life. The change wasn't too drastic, but it was enough to be noticeable once he bothered to actually look at him.

Pitch looked over a few minutes later, noticing Jack slowly approaching him. His expression was unreadable, but he noticed he was clutching his staff rather tightly. He shifted up and turned towards him, settling his feet on the floor as he sat there looking Jack over curiously.

Jack came to a stop and just stared at him for a very long moment.

Pitch just stared back, trying to keep the worry off his face as he started thinking Jack was going to turn him down flat. He watched, a bit puzzled as Jack reached over, resting his staff against the wall and releasing it.

Jack took several deep breaths, bracing himself. This decision was far too hard won to let himself hesitate, let him lose his nerve. He forced his body into motion, lurching forward.

Pitch was shocked to find lips pressing suddenly against his own, but quickly threw off the surprise and kissed him eagerly back. He shifted his knees apart a bit so Jack could move closer to him and wouldn't have to lean over so much. Jack shifted closer without any need for prompting. When he felt Jack's lips part he took it as invitation enough, darting his tongue into Jack's mouth. Jack let out a little inarticulate sound and immediately clambered up onto Pitch's lap.

Jack didn't even understand this desperate need that was overwhelming his mind, but the feel of Pitch's hot hands slipping up his back under his hoodie and pressing him closer obliterated any remaining rational thought. He reached up and grasped the back of Pitch's head, though he was pretty sure their mouths couldn't possibly press any closer together as it was. He wasn't sure they were even still bothering to breathe.

He suddenly became aware of what felt like a warm hand slipping up the front of his hoodie to caress his chest, another slipping onto his thigh… but Pitch's hands were still on his back, one between his shoulder blades, the other on the small of his back. Jack broke the kiss, looking down at his thigh. There was what looked like the shadow of a hand resting there.

Pitch saw the direction of his gaze and the shadow quickly slipped away, his cheeks actually darkening slightly. "My shadows are a part of me." He said softly, almost sounding apologetic, "Just as your frost is a part of you."

Jack followed his glance. Jack had brushed his robe back some, his hand clutching Pitch's bare shoulder. He saw the delicate frost that was spreading from his hand already covering half his shoulder, standing out a bit against Pitch's grey skin. He quickly pulled his hand away, watching the frost slowly start to fade. "I… I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

"Don't be." Pitch said warmly. "It kind of tingles. I rather like it." He watched as Jack's eyes searched his, then smiled, "You never have to worry about that with me. I told you before, Jack... nothing goes together better than cold and dark."

Jack's eyes watered up again. A couple of tears slipped down his cheeks as he gazed into those brightly burning eyes. He'd never desired something so desperately or been so utterly terrified of anything before. "If you hurt me… I swear I'll kill you." He said, his throat tight.

Pitch just gazed evenly back. "If I hurt you, I swear I'll let you kill me."

Jack's heart was pounding in his chest and he reached down, quickly fumbling with the fastenings on his trousers.

"Are you sure?" Pitch asked.

Jack looked back up into those brightly burning eyes, then nodded.

Pitch reached down, hooking his finger into the waistband of the trousers. They turned to shadow and he pulled them away like they were nothing, then he released them and they reformed as they fell to the floor.

Jack barely had time to feel himself being released from the tight confines of his trousers before he felt one of those amazingly hot hands wrap around him. He let out a little ragged gasp as that burning heat started stroking him. He grabbed ahold of Pitch's shoulders, clutching him a bit desperately. He'd never felt anything like this. After less than a minute of that he felt himself teetering on the edge and quickly reached down, grabbing ahold of Pitch's wrist to stop him.

"Not yet." He gasped, though it was difficult to get the words out. Jack used his grip to pull his hand away, then closed his eyes, breathing shakily for a minute while he calmed down a bit. If he finished before he got through this he knew he'd lose his nerve. When he opened his eyes again he saw Pitch's concerned expression. "Yours, too." Jack said quickly. When Pitch just looked at him, obviously confused, Jack reached down, brushing his fingers over where the gray skin of Pitch's stomach shifted seamlessly into his 'trousers'.

Pitch looked surprised, but the trousers vanished as requested. He just watched, curious as Jack reached down, then gave a little shudder when Jack took ahold of him. Jack watched a little apprehensively as frost spread from his hand, but Pitch just let out a low groan of pleasure. Reassured that his touch really didn't hurt the man, he quickly put his hand on Pitch's chest and pushed him back some before trying to shift closer a bit awkwardly, but then he hesitated. 'Do we… um… do we need something, or…?" Jack asked uncertainly, his cheeks coloring.

Pitch's eyes widened a bit in surprise, but then a brilliant smile spread across his lips. "That's one of the beautiful things about being a couple of magical beings… It won't hurt you. I promise."

Jack looked at him, obviously surprised, but just nodded, taking him at his word. He was too nervous to say anything else as he started shifting around again. He managed to find a good angle and shifted cautiously down. He let out a little strangled gasp. It didn't hurt… but it felt like a hot poker was pressing up into him. A really long, really thick hot poker!

Pitch groaned deeply. He shifted his hips around, then grasped Jack's hips and quickly thrust the rest of the way in. Jack let out a sudden cry and Pitch looked around in surprise as there was a sudden flash of light. He saw Jack's embarrassed blush as the fine dusting of snow drifted down on them and figured out what it was. He grinned, then purred, "Show me that again."

Jack shuddered as he felt those shadow hands sliding back onto his body. They weren't as warm as Pitch's actual hands, but they made his skin tingle in a way he'd never felt before as they whispered lightly across his skin. He quickly started moving, having little trouble finding a good angle. It felt so utterly strange, and at the same time so completely amazing, every movement sending unimaginable pleasure coursing through him. The little sounds Pitch was making… just hearing them sent little exquisite twinges through him.

It was no more than a few minutes before Jack closed his eyes, feeling his body tensing up again. Pitch didn't miss a beat, starting to thrust up into him when he stilled. Jack called out, Pitch's movement drawing it out. It took him a rather long minute before he was able to start moving again himself. He tried to move faster. It wasn't that he wanted this to end, but he could feel himself quickly tiring.

"One more, Jack." Pitch breathed in his ear, "One more time."

Jack honestly didn't think that was even possible, but then Pitch's right hand slid up his side a bit, pushing his hoodie up to make sure it was out of the way as his left slipped away from his hip and he suddenly felt that burning hand wrap around him again. Jack couldn't help the sounds that were escaping him, the feel of that strong grip stroking him while that throbbing heat invaded his body so thoroughly was too much for his mind to handle. He held Pitch's shoulders with a death grip, barely able to retain consciousness. Pitch's hand started speeding up, then he thrust deep and tensed, letting out a deep groan. The completely unexpected feel of heat suddenly flooding into him sent Jack instantly over the edge, the flash of light around him nearly blinding in its intensity.

When the tension had eased from his body some Jack rested his forehead against Pitch's shoulder as his head spun wildly. They both just sat there for a bit, gasping raggedly for breath as their bodies slowly calmed. After a while Pitch's arms slid around him and he shifted up a bit, just holding Jack tightly to him. Jack felt his lips gently kissing the side of his neck.

"It's been so very long," Pitch whispered, an ache to his voice, "I'd actually forgotten what that felt like. Thank you, Jack."

Jack wasn't sure how he felt about the heartfelt gratitude in Pitch's voice. In fact he wasn't completely sure how he felt about anything right now. He knew intellectually that he should probably regret what they had just done… but he could find no regret within him. In the entirety of his existence, he'd never felt anything like that… but now that it was over he felt utter exhaustion quickly setting in and he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do now.

Pitch felt him start to shift around a bit and released him. Jack got up, a little shiver going through him when he felt Pitch leave his body. He put his hand on his stomach curiously as he stood there a bit unsteadily. He could feel a little lingering warmth within him. "What… um, what was that? When you…" He blushed.

"Just a bit of my essence. Don't worry, it dissipates on its own. It'll be gone in a few minutes." He said reassuringly.

Jack just bobbed his head a bit, too tired and embarrassed by the subject to do more than take his word for it. He looked over, spotting his pants.

Pitch reached out, taking his wrist to stop him when he started towards where they lay. "Don't go, Jack. Stay the night." He asked, his voice soft and imploring.

"I… I can't…" Jack said, surprised by the hint of regret in his voice as he said it. "I mean I can't sleep where it's warm."

"Then it won't be warm." Pitch replied immediately and the room temperature suddenly plummeted to freezing.

The sudden change surprised Jack, but then he remembered this was the dream realm, and Pitch could control anything in the environment. The fireplace even still had a pleasant, low burning fire, but it gave off no heat. "But… wouldn't you be cold?" He asked, then he immediately blushed, realizing he was assuming Pitch meant he wanted to share a bed with him.

A little grin found its way onto Pitch's lips. "There's a reason your frost doesn't hurt me. It's not just because I'm a magical being. My body is normally nearly as cold as yours. Perhaps a touch above freezing, but not much. Fear isn't usually associated with warmth."

"But… I mean…" Jack started, confused.

"Ever since I became immortal, there has only ever been one thing that can warm my blood. Desire. Don't take this wrong… but it feels really strange being around you. Pleasantly so, of course. That's just one more thing about my own body that I had somehow managed to forget over the years… right up until you destroyed my nightmares that first night."

Jack just stood there, his tired mind trying to process that. He looked up as Pitch rose, letting his robe slide off onto the floor and moving closer. He didn't stop him as Pitch slipped his hoodie off of him, though once it was gone he felt acutely vulnerable. It had been ages since he'd been completely naked, and he'd never been naked in front of anyone else! Well, not since he'd been old enough to realize it wasn't proper to take off all his clothes just because he wanted to play in the pond of course.

He somewhat hesitantly let himself be led over, too tired to even think up any more objections. He crawled wearily up onto the bed, settling down on his side. The mattress was very soft and let him sink into it a bit like a nice fresh snow drift. He felt the bed move slightly, then felt Pitch shifting up against his back. He was afraid it would be uncomfortable sleeping with someone else, but when Pitch had settled, his arm draped over his side, their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly. A black sheet appeared above them, then settled gently down on them. He wasn't used to sheets, but this one felt very soft and pleasantly icy against his skin.

He felt Pitch's contented sigh brush his shoulder, but the chill of the room was quickly dropping the man's body temperature so it was only slightly warm, just like his skin where it pressed up against him. Much to Jack's surprise it didn't feel unpleasant at all. Quite the contrary, in fact.

"I have a present for you." Pitch whispered softly in his ear.

Jack's eyes fluttered back open. "A present?" He muttered tiredly, furrowing his brow.

"Yes, but you have to go to sleep first." Pitch replied with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"K…" Jack muttered, letting his eyes drift back shut.

It felt like he had no more than closed his eyes before he was opening them again. He looked around, finding himself sitting on a branch high up in a tree, reclining casually against the trunk. He looked out, spotting his little pond, currently frozen over. There were two kids trying to skate on the pond, though it was obvious neither one had skated before. He just watched them, his smile warming a bit when the little boy fell right on his butt and they both started laughing. The girl tried to help him up and they were both struggling around like newborn deer, laughing the whole time.

"Naughty little scamps." Pitch said with amusement.

Jack looked over, finding the man standing on a lower branch, leaning casually against the trunk beside him, their heads pretty much level. Jack blinked in surprise. "This is a memory, how can you be here?"

"Correction, you are dreaming about a memory. Thus why I can be here." Pitch said with a smile.

Jack furrowed his brow. "I guess that makes sense… but… I mean this is strange. I've known I was dreaming since I found myself here a few minutes ago. How am I not waking up?"

"Dreams are my domain. I'm in physical contact with your body. Your dreams will be lucid unless I break contact with you in the waking world."

"Oh…" Jack said, surprised. He'd rarely had lucid dreams before. His mind seemed a little sluggish on the uptake perhaps, but he felt completely conscious. It was really cool actually. Everything was so vivid! He could even feel the bark of the tree and the wind blowing gently past, carrying a very slight scent of burning wood, no doubt from some far off dwelling.

"They caught Hell for that when their mother caught them sneaking back into the house later." Pitch remarked, gazing once more at the merrily giggling children. "They weren't allowed anywhere near the pond in winter."

"I always made sure it was at least a good solid six inches thick any time it froze over. It held those big stone eggs of Bunny's, didn't it? It'd take a pickaxe and a lot of time to get through that. They were never in any danger." Jack said, then he cringed as the girl lost her footing, going sprawling, "Well, in no danger of going through the ice anyway."

"Well, you can't really blame their mother. The skates on that girl's feet are all they ever found of you."

Jack's eyes went wide and darted over at Pitch, then back to the children as he sat up on his perch for a better view. "You mean those were…" Jack said a bit breathlessly.

"Elizabeth and Jack. Pippa's first and second born, yes."

"You mean I actually saw them? When they were alive?" Jack asked, stunned.

"Apparently. I wonder why your mind brought up this particular memory. Was it that you recognized them from the painting? I'm curious, do you remember everything you see?" Pitch asked, glancing back over at Jack again.

"Um… no." Jack said, finding that a very odd question, "Do you?"

"Yes." Pitch said offhandedly, then went on as if it were nothing, "Then that makes me wonder if something in the back of your mind subconsciously recognized them while you were watching them, preserving this brief encounter for the day when you would realize who they were."

The idea was intriguing, but he couldn't get past the offhanded comment, "You really remember everything?"

Pitch looked over at him, "Everything visual in nature. I can forget other things, but for some reason my mind keeps a complete visual record whether I want it to or not. Aspects from my other senses, like what I hear and such are often preserved at least some along with the visual memories, but they can't be called up as easily in my mind. I experience them again if I review the visual memory, but that information may not be in my mind on its own." He sighed, seeing Jack's furrowed brow, obviously trying to figure out how to explain it better, "Like if I looked through a book, the information it contained may not be retained by my mind on its own, but I can bring up the memory of looking at the pages and I can basically read it again. Luckily that didn't start until after my death. There's very little about my mortal life that I care to remember."

"Oh…" Jack said, his mind boggling a bit. That seemed like it would be an amazing gift… but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it could also be a terrible curse. Most of his life as Jack Frost had been spent just messing around and having fun, bringing joy to children… but he'd been around for three hundred years, and obviously he'd seen some things in that time that no one should have to see, let alone remember. Tragic accidents, devastating natural disasters, even some suicides and a couple of murders. He'd even seen some of war, though he'd quickly fled when he came across those battles. Well, he had thrown snow and ice, even the occasional blizzard at them sometimes, hoping to encourage them to stop fighting and retreat to their shelters, but he'd carefully tried to stay out of visual range at least, even then. What would it be like not to be able to block those memories out?

"Enough boring chatter, I believe I promised you a present." Pitch prompted.

Jack looked over, seeing Pitch holding his hand out to him. He took it without thinking and suddenly they were standing in a kind of dark, empty void. "Where are we?" he asked, looking around, but there was literally nothing but them.

"The space between." Pitch said simply, then he turned a bit more towards him, looking at him with a serious expression. "Where we go next, there are rules that are not open for debate. You must stay with me at all times, move when I move, and when I stay still, so do you. You must also maintain physical contact with me at all times. That is not just me trying to get you to touch me, it is a very important requirement. Touching my clothing will suffice if you prefer, but do not at any time let go. Trust me when I say this is the last place you want to get lost."

Just where was Pitch taking him? Jack was starting to feel some serious trepidation about this, but followed when Pitch led forward into what appeared to be a wall of shadow, clutching his hand rather tightly.

Jack had no idea what to expect as the shadows parted and the world brightened around him… He looked around in wonder. He was in a huge cabin and it was full of people! There had to be a couple dozen people total, and despite the size of the cabin, that made things pretty close quarters. From their clothing and the general feel of the place he could tell it was long ago. The cabin was obviously new though. This close to the wall he could still smell the wood it was made of. Whoever made it was obviously very skilled. He could hear the wind howling outside, but inside it was quite warm and cozy. Pitch moved forward, towards the large fireplace, but hugged the wall, then came to a stop between the two windows. The adults present were mostly sitting or standing around and socializing, but many of the children were running around, squealing happily and playing.

Jack just watched, a smile finding its way onto his face as he gazed around at them. Everyone just seemed so happy.

One of the little girls who was perhaps nine, the only one with pure black hair and slightly darker skin in the group, jumped up suddenly and raced into the other room. From the wonderful smells coming from that direction it was probably a kitchen. Jack was just about to return to observing the others when he heard an odd, scooting sound. The little girl was returning, dragging a chair that was obviously a bit heavy for her.

One of the men saw her and hurried over, "Rose, what are you up to?" he asked when he reached her.

"You forgot the chair, father!" she said, an adorable hint of reprimand in her voice.

He crouched down next to her and sighed dramatically, "You're right. I forgot. I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again."

"Very well." she said, accepting his apology graciously. She let him take the chair and he carried it over, setting it next to the fireplace. When he let go of it she looked it over critically for a moment, then shifted it a little so it was facing the room more directly, then nodded before just running off and settling down on the floor next to one of the other little girls of about the same age and picking up a handmade stuffed bear.

Jack eyed the empty chair. It was a bit in shadow since it was right beside the fireplace, and it was well out of the usual walk path of the room. "What was that about?" He asked.

Pitch glanced over at him, almost looking like he'd forgotten Jack was even there. When he just looked at Jack curiously, obviously having no idea what he was talking about Jack nodded his head towards the chair. "The chair? Oh, I don't know, really. It's some kind of family tradition that they continued through the generations. It's meant to be for some kind of holiday spirit. In later generations they started calling it the 'Burgess spirit'. I guess from the name I should have realized the tradition didn't come from your side of the family."

Jack's eyes went wide and darted back to the gathered people. Where he was suddenly came crashing down on him. This was his family!

Pitch tightened his grip and pulled Jack back when he tried to move forward, to see these people up close. When Jack resisted, Pitch pulled him a bit roughly back and slipped his arm around his waist, pulling Jack up firmly against him and holding him tight. "Remember the rules, Jack." He hissed urgently.

Jack settled down a bit, looking back at him.

"This isn't a dream. It's my memory. As such I must be where I was at this point in time. I cannot move unless I moved back then. Your contact with me is the only thing keeping you anchored in this memory." When Jack settled completely, Pitch eased his grip some. "I'll be moving in just a moment."

Jack just looked around breathlessly, searching for familiar faces, trying to figure out when this memory took place. Many of the people had familiar features, but he just wasn't sure. He spotted a woman of perhaps thirty or so that looked like the woman from the painting beside the one of Pippa and her family… yes the man beside her was definitely the man in that painting. How much time had passed between those two paintings? Why hadn't he even bothered to look at the placard next to that one? That could be one of her daughters, or she might be generations down the line.

A woman came out of the kitchen and wandered over, coming to a stop as she joined the nearest group of adults, so close Jack could have just reached out and touched her. He was almost tempted, but then Pitch started moving.

Pitch let go of his waist, but kept a very firm grip on his arm as he started moving a bit more into the main part of the room. He wound his way around a bit, pausing now and then to avoid the gathered people, but eventually made his way over to the chair they had left by the fire. When he reached it he settled down in the chair.

"Thiers may have been an odd little tradition, but it certainly made visiting more convenient for me." Pitch said with a little smile, his gaze still fixed on the people as he spoke. "No one ever sat in the 'spirit' chair, and it was always placed somewhere out of the way but facing the room, so it provided a nice vantage point and I didn't have to worry about having people walk through me. They had only started it up about five years before this memory. This was the first Christmas in the larger cabin though, so this was the first time they had room for a full family gathering. I never stayed very long before this one, so I thought this would be the best one to show you."

"When is this?" Jack asked, sitting down on one of Pitch's knees without even thinking about it.

"Seventeen fifty six." Pitch replied, "Thought of by many as the first real Christmas."

"Um, Christmas was going on way longer…" Jack began, but Pitch's snort cut him off.

"The first Burgess Christmas." Pitch corrected. "This cabin belongs to that man," Pitch said, pointing towards Rose's father. "Pippa's second son. Thaddeus."

Jack's eyes widened a bit as he looked at the man. Benjamin's last name had been Burgess, so he had assumed it had been one of his relatives that founded the town, but…

Pitch's smile widened as he watched Jack's face, "Just realizing your nephew founded the town, are you? To be honest I thought you would have clued in when you read the placard beside the painting, but I'm guessing from your expression you missed that bit. In life you lived in that sad smattering of cabins up in the hills a few miles away that didn't even really qualify as a village, but you're in the first cabin to be built down here by the river. It was completed no more than three months before this memory in fact. Over the next couple of years this became part of the trade routes. The postal service started routing through here and once the railroad was built this little town became quite the hub for that day in age."

"Seventeen fifty six…" Jack said, trying to work out the math in his head, "Then Pippa should still be alive!" He said, his eyes darting around the room, though he was sure he would have spotted her already if she had been there.

Pitch slipped his arm back around Jack's waist before replying, "Yes, she's in the kitchen. She'll be out in a few minutes."

Jack tensed, but feeling the arm around him he forcefully reminded him not to try to go see her. He just had to wait a few minutes. He could do that. He tried to look around more, trying to take his mind off that so he wouldn't spend the whole time staring at the door.

"Which one's Jack?" He asked, studying the faces of the men in the room. None of them looked like the boy he'd seen. His heart sank a little as he heard a sad sigh from Pitch. He looked back at him reluctantly.

"He only made it to about twenty, I'm afraid." Pitch said sadly. "Influenza. It took him and his wife in the same night. Many in the family got it when it swept through the area, but they were the only family members who died from it. His wife was almost to term with their first child, so the stress of the illness forced her into early labor. She died shortly after giving birth, and Jack died not long after. At least Thaddeus arrived in time to save their daughter. Little Rose, there. Thaddeus was only eighteen at the time, and he and his wife had just had their own first child about two months earlier, but they didn't hesitate to take her in and raise her as their own."

Jack had only just found out about the boy who had been named after him, only seen him in a painting and perhaps a brief glimpse of him as a child… and yet he felt filled with sorrow learning of his passing at such a young age.

"I learned early on that you have to take the bitter along with the sweet when it comes to mortals." Pitch said softly. "I found it was unwise to let myself wonder about those that stopped showing up, especially in those harsh, early times."

Jack just gave a little silent nod. He knew all too well how harsh life had been, and had in fact lost a number of close friends and family members before his own death.

"You know, Jack was actually a rather progressive man for his time." Pitch said, obviously trying to steer the conversation away from the sad news. "His wife was half Native American. You can see it a bit in Rose. I've often thought the chair tradition may actually have started as the family's way of honoring her mother's belief in the spirits, for Rose's sake. In fact, they named her Rose because of her mother. To her people roses symbolize life. When they were first married she planted roses at Pippa's cabin, to honor you actually, to pay tribute to the life you gave to save Pippa. They may not have shared the beliefs of the native peoples, but very much to their credit they never discouraged Rose from learning about, and embracing her heritage."

Jack couldn't help but feel a bit touched by the gesture made by a woman he'd never even met. He hadn't met many of the local native people while he was alive, but his parents had always taught them that they were to be treated as equals and their beliefs should be respected. He had been well aware that it was not a commonly held view amongst the colonists. It meant a lot knowing that openness to other cultures had been passed down.

Jack looked over as he heard someone approaching, then his eyes went wide and grew watery. It was Pippa. Given the year he knew she was about fifty. There was a lot of gray mixed in with her hair now, but she seemed spry enough, though he noticed one of the daughters stayed close at hand until she settled down a mere six feet away on what looked to be the same padded bench that she had sat on in the painting. His remaining sorrow faded and a little smile found its way back onto his lips as some of the grandchildren scampered over, giving her hugs and showing her the new toys they had gotten.

Benjamin followed shortly after, carrying two steaming mugs. His hair was now completely white, but he still seemed healthy. He handed one of the mugs to Pippa before taking his place beside her, his arm going around her out of habit as he settled. Once the grandchildren ran off she settled against him contentedly as they watched the children play.

Jack slowly settled back, leaning against Pitch and folding his arms over the arm Pitch still had around him. The tension left him as he watched Pippa and her family, some of the pain and regret that had plagued him since he'd gotten his memories back easing away.

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A/N – If I don't get reviews for this chapter I will definitely be depressed! I generally work a ways ahead because I reread the chapters literally like twenty times before posting them, but I admit I'm getting a bit hung up not too far ahead, so I could really use some support to keep this one going.

Also wanted to note that the scene in the bedroom was greatly inspired by my absolute favorite fan art picture of Pitch and Jack that I have ever found, but unfortunately, a can no longer find it on the internet. It was by pragmaticinsanity but her Deviant Art portfolio doesn't contain it and google searches have just led to endless other drawings by other people. Her Tumblr and Deviant art accounts have some amazing art on them. She has some sketches of Pitch, but I didn't see the one I was looking for. It's still worth a look though. If any of you find it (you should recognize it after reading that!) please leave me a message telling me where it can be found. I do have a copy that I saved eons ago (2/20/2013 to be exact), but I would like to be able to tell anyone reading this where they could see it as well. One thing I do remember was that the note associated with the drawing was something along the lines of "had to be done" and I SO agreed (obviously!) ;)