Chapter 6

Jack lay there on his stomach, the soft cloth of the pillow pleasantly cool against his cheek, the warm weight of Pitch's body against his back leaving him feeling blissfully content. He smiled as he felt Pitch kissing and lightly nipping his way across his shoulder and on up the side of his neck, his arms holding him possessively as the by now familiar feel of those shadowy hands still whispered tantalizingly across his skin.

He was brought out of the pleasant daze rather abruptly as he heard someone clearing their throat loudly. He looked over and flushed with embarrassment, seeing Azrael standing there near the end of the bed with her hand firmly clamped over her eyes. He quickly located the sheet, pulling it up. He looked over, seeing Pitch had already rolled off the other side of the bed and donned his clothes. "A little help?" He prompted.

Pitch looked over at him and just gave him a little smile. "I told you before, this room is your dream figment. You can do it yourself."

Jack's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" He asked, looking down at himself. He just thought about being dressed and suddenly he was fully clothed once more. His clothes didn't even have the burns and singe marks anymore. "Cool!" he said, tossing aside the sheet.

"Sorry!" Azrael's voice said rather mirthfully in their minds as she dropped her hand, "It's been like two weeks. I never expected you to still be here!"

"Wait, it's been how long?" Jack asked, stunned.

"Do you need me?" Pitch asked, his tone brisk and businesslike.

"No… actually, I came for Jack." She replied, smiling.

"Me?" Jack asked in surprise, a smile springing to his lips.

"What exactly do you need him for?" Pitch asked warily.

"Relax! It's nothing dangerous." She replied in a reassuring tone, "It'll probably be a little uncomfortable, but I just need him to keep a bunch of sick villagers cool for a couple of hours until the medicine and supplies arrive. The generator ran out of gas and the sickness causes high fevers. Many of them won't survive until help arrives without some assistance."

Jack hopped lightly up and hurried over, taking ahold of her arm without even having to be asked, eager to help. He looked over, seeing the somewhat pensive look Pitch was giving him. "I'll be fine."

Pitch looked at Azrael, "He'd better be." He said a bit stiffly.

"By the Gods you are so adorable when you're being protective!" She said happily, "And oh how I missed this face. It's so good to see it again!" she said, reaching out and stroking her hand down his cheek affectionately.

Jack looked over and suddenly realized for the first time that Pitch looked completely human! Well, other than those brightly glowing eyes and ashen skin of course, though even his skin tone had warmed a bit. It had happened so gradually he honestly hadn't even noticed the change. From the puzzled look on Pitch's face it was obvious he hadn't noticed either.

Blackness pressed around Jack, then it lifted again.

Jack looked around as he released her arm. The dwellings around them were a bit crude, and from the jungle foliage he could see around the village he'd guess they were somewhere in Africa. Not somewhere he usually frequented for obvious reasons. It was barely spring and the temperature was at least in the low eighties… and it appeared to still be morning! Ya, this was definitely going to be uncomfortable!

He just followed her silently as she led him towards the closest thing they appeared to have to a 'regular' building, though it was still closer in construction to a really oversized shack. There was writing on the building. He didn't recognize the language, but there was a large red cross painted above the door, so he guessed it was some kind of medical clinic. Considering she'd said he was there to help sick people that made sense.

He looked over at a group of mostly adults that were sitting together to the side of the path near the building, rocking slightly and muttering softly, some of them crying. They didn't appear to be sick.

"They're praying." Azrael said softly.

Oh. Jack quickly turned his attention back towards the building. He'd never been comfortable being around situations so dire the mortals felt the need to pray to their Gods to spare the lives of their loved ones. It made him feel like he shouldn't be there. He wasn't the one they were praying to after all.

"Maybe not." Azrael said, obviously picking up the thought, "But you're the one that came."

As they entered the building he could see that it had a solid frame made from what appeared to be whole thin tree trunks, and the rest was filled in with whatever was at hand from the looks of it. Branches with tightly woven reeds holding them together, large sheets of what appeared to be bark, a number of large plastic and metal barrels that had been flattened somehow, along with countless other random materials, the cracks between them filled in with clay and wads of cloth soaked in some kind of tree sap or tar. It actually looked surprisingly well put together and sturdy, all things considered. There were also several small open areas around the building that seemed to serve as windows, covered by nothing more than bits of canvas with a layer of that sap/tar stuff on it. He looked around at the people, there were so many of them packed in there! There were about a dozen thin, shabby beds, but most of the sick people were lying on mats on the floor made of some kind of grasses or reeds. It was obvious the generator had been down for a little while as the air in the building was already noticeably warmer than the air outside. He could see a couple of the still able bodied people trying to open up some of the sections of canvas, obviously hoping to at least get a breeze.

He quickly summoned his staff, then started winding his way between the people, holding out his staff and carefully trying to just gently cool the air without freezing anything. It made him feel good to see the little bit of relief on the faces of the people as he passed them, bringing a cool breeze to them.

Time seemed to drag by. He had found a good route that wound around between the gathered people that let him cover the whole area. There were some with particularly high fevers that he'd slow down as he passed. He'd noticed Azrael had left at some point shortly after they'd arrived, but he supposed she had other things to attend to. He could always make his own way home if necessary, so it didn't bother him.

The people had definitely noticing his presence. Not too long after he'd started his rounds he'd noticed some of the people closing the holes in the walls back up with the canvas and the doors had been closed, trying to keep the cool air in. Some of the ones tending to the sick people had basins of water to dip the cloths in that they were putting on their foreheads to try to bring down their fevers. Every once in a while he'd dip his finger in the bowls as he passed, turning the water to just this side of slush. A little smile always flickered over his lips when he heard the people dip the cloths again and found the water to be frigid. Sometimes they would cry or mutter what sounded like soft prayers.

He'd never really felt something like this before… easing the suffering of so many people. He just hoped he could keep it up long enough. It had helped some once the building was sealed back up, the coolness he was exuding lowering the ambient temperature enough to make it at least a bit more comfortable for him, but he was getting tired, and exuding the carefully controlled coolness was taking more and more effort.

"You're doing very well." Azrael's voice said softly in his head.

He glanced around, but didn't spot her.

"I'm not in there with you."

"Are the supplies about here?" He asked hopefully.

"Just one more hour."

Jack sighed deeply. "I don't think I can keep going that much longer."

"You have to let them help you. They want to."

"What? Who?" Jack said, looking around again.

"Them. The people in this village. Those that are close to death and those with high fevers can often glimpse spirits, even if they do not already believe in them. That is why the boy in the orphanage could see you even if you had probably never visited him before. That's why I'm not in there with you. They know me and I don't want to frighten them. A number of them have caught glimpses of you here today. Listen to them."

Jack listened. He could hear the voices outside, their prayers louder now.

"They are praying to the Pale Spirit. They may not know your name, but they are praying to you, Jack. They are offering you their strength so you can protect their loved ones. Open yourself up to them and let them lend you their strength."

He didn't know how he felt about being prayed to, or accepting such a thing… but he was pretty sure he would never be able to last another hour on his own, and he couldn't bear the thought of letting them down. He'd noticed that the temperature had already been ever so slowly inching back up over the last twenty minutes or so. "But I'm… I'm not a God or anything…" He said uneasily.

"These people don't believe in Gods. They believe in spirits. And right now you are the spirit that they believe in."

Jack closed his eyes and he could feel it. It was tentative at first, but as soon as he opened himself to it he felt strength flooding through him. Almost instantly the temperature around him dropped at least ten degrees. He opened his eyes and found that he was floating a few inches off the ground. He lightly touched back down and started making his rounds once more, the cool air flowing from him easily now. As he walked, whenever he passed someone who was praying, he felt it.

The last hour passed more quickly than he thought possible. Before he knew it, he heard the generator kick on outside and the air conditioning equipment shuddered to life and started blowing air. It was warm at first, but quickly cooled. Jack sighed, actually finding himself a bit disappointed that his task was now complete.

"Get the place closed up so the cooling unit can…" A tall blond man said as he entered the building, coming to a stop and looking around in surprise as the temperature of the room registered. "How is it cold in here? I thought they said the generator ran out of fuel hours ago?"

"It did…" The shorter brown haired man said as he set the small, insulated crate of medicine on the table. He went over, speaking to one of the adults in their native language, then came back over, his brow furrowed. "He says a 'pale spirit' came and watched over them until we could arrive."

"A pale spirit?" The blond asked.

The other man shrugged, "I don't know. I'm not familiar with any pale spirits in their mythos."

"Someone must have just found another container of gas somewhere." The blond said dismissively. "Let's wash up quick so we can get this medicine distributed."

Jack gave a little snort, then wandered towards the door. There were four large steel barrels of water for cleaning and drinking along the wall by the door. He lightly tapped each with the bottom of his staff as he passed, turning the contents into slush. "Let them explain that one." He said with a mischievous grin as he phased through the closed door. He walked slow at first, then chuckled merrily as he heard the man in the building saying "What the Hell?"

As he glanced back, he was surprised to see that the high humidity in the air had created a frost impression of him on the outside of the door where he had phased through it, chilling the wood. It was just his vague outline, but the shape of the staff in his hand was very clear. The image quickly started to fade as the door warmed, but it was obvious a number of the people had spotted it.

Oh well, one more thing for them to have fun trying to explain away. He let his staff dissipate and smiled happily as he strode past the group of villagers who were gathered outside. They were still speaking softly, but it sounded different now. He still couldn't understand the language of course, but somehow he knew they were thanking him.

"There's nothing like crowd sourcing positive energy, is there?" Azrael's voice asked in his head.

He looked over, finding her walking beside him. He couldn't keep the smile off his face. "That was amazing! I almost don't want to leave!"

"I know, right? I know I'm probably not supposed to have favorites, but I can't help it. I love these people! They are so open. They didn't have a cold spirit, so they sent out an open prayer for help. Now they have one. Congratulations."

He looked over at her, furrowing his brow, "On what?"

"On crossing belief systems." She said, lifting one of her braids and showing him the little silver version of his staff now dangling from it.

He stopped, looking at it. None of the other charms on that one meant anything to him. "Wait, what?"

"Well, your symbol isn't going to be a snowflake for them. It's never snowed here. Your staff seems pretty appropriate though." She said, lightly tapping the little charm with her fingernail and watching it sparkle in the sunlight.

"How can I be on that braid now?"

"You answered their prayers. They felt your presence when you let them in. You accepted them, and they accepted you. They adopted you. Don't worry. You're still Jack Frost in your original belief system." She reassured him. "You're just also now 'the Pale Spirit' in theirs. You're not the first spirit from a different belief system they have adopted when the spirits answered their prayers for help, and I doubt you'll be the last. Like I said, they are a wonderfully open people."

"So what does that mean then?"

"I doubt they will ever really see you, because they believe more in feeling the presence of spirits, only perhaps very rarely glimpsing vague images of them. Still, they don't need to see you to believe in you. If they are ever in great need of your particular kind of help again and they pray to you, you will feel it, no matter where you are. If you ignore their prayers, you may eventually fade out of the belief system, but until that time they believe in you, and not just the children. Don't worry, they aren't a needy people and they don't ask for help unless they really need it."

"How often does this kind of thing happen?" Jack said, stunned.

"With this particular belief system it was pretty much a given the moment you opened yourself up to them. That said, I just want you to realize that these people are most definitely exceptions to the rule. There are, sadly, few other belief systems quite so attuned to spirits and so open to change. They eagerly embrace spirits, while most of the world will come up with, and accept, even the most farfetched excuses to try to explain away phenomena they don't understand. And with the orphans, only the boy you saved saw you before that last… whatever that was you did. After seeing that, the minds of the other children were forced to acknowledge your existence, because nothing else could possibly have explained what happened. And I gotta admit, I'm simply dying to know what excuse the investigators are going to come up with to explain that debris pattern!" She said, letting out a little snicker. "I just wanted you to understand that the work done by my associates doesn't usually result in new believers. I knew these people would accept you, but the last time was a fluke. I'm not saying you won't get recognized in the future, you have a much higher chance of that than most of my associates, I'm just saying you shouldn't expect it."

"Why would I be any more likely to get recognized than anyone else?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Well, your particular gift is more physical, more substantial. A sudden drop in temperature is a measurable thing. It's harder to explain away, especially in regions or times of year where cold and frost are not normal occurrences. As such, you are more likely to get recognized as an actual presence than, say, a sudden jolt of irrational fear. Beings that leave physical or scientifically measureable evidence behind are just more likely to get recognized. Ask North how many names he has some time. Honestly, I can't even remember how many belief systems that man has found his way into!"

The building tension eased away from Jack at that. If this kind of thing had happened to North before then it was something he could ask the man about. It made it feel more 'normal', which eased his concern.

"You definitely earned your place here. Without you, eight of those children would have died by now, several of the adults as well."

"Wait! I can save adults?" Jack asked, surprised, "I thought you said I could only save kids?"

"No, I said it will usually only be children. It's just the situations I would take you to would be because of children. The length of a person's life is only set by fate in maybe three percent of people. Those are the ones fated to die young, as you were, because for some reason their death was necessary as a catalyst for a certain event that would have a large enough impact on other people's lives… some others are fated to live long lives, like the boy you saved now is. Those are because their continued presence is needed for some reason, though I don't even know why. That's not my department. Most everyone else… well there are certain things they are fated to do, the biggest of those things is obviously having a certain number of children. Some are also fated to influence certain people or events, or even play a pivotal role in history. Once they have fulfilled everything they were fated to do… well they don't need to die at any specific time, but they just can die after that without upsetting the balance. After that point how long they live is simply up to their life choices, genetics and chance really. Still, the death of an adult that has already fulfilled their fate isn't against the natural order, so I wouldn't be made aware of it even if a large number of such people were about to die avoidable deaths. I can only sense the impending disturbances to the natural order. So basically any adults you save would just be bonuses, not what called my attention to the situation."

"Oh… ok… um… so why did I need to die young?" Jack asked, curious despite not being sure he wanted to know.

"I can't say for sure, of course. Not my department, as I've said. I have thought about that over the years though, and my best guess is that the town of Burgess never would have existed otherwise. That would have had a very significant effect on many thousands of lives over the years, probably even tens of thousands or more. Pippa and Benjamin grew much closer after your death. I don't know if you realized it, but he really cared about you. You were like the big brother he always wanted. He was a very big part of getting your family through their grief after your death. Both emotionally, and he also helped take care of many of the chores you once did so they wouldn't go hungry or run out of fire wood in the winter. His parents weren't as fond of the 'new world', though, and decided to return to England when he was about fourteen, but he didn't want to leave your family, not to mention the only home he'd ever known. Your mother actually took him in so he could stay. If all of that hadn't have happened, Benjamin likely would have returned to England with his parents, and Thaddeus would never have been born, so obviously he would never have founded Burgess."

Jack thought about it, then nodded, a little smile working its way onto his lips. "Pippa married a good man. She had a good life and a wonderful family. If my death is what made that possible, it was worth it just for that." He said softly.

"Oh, you are such a treasure!" She cooed adoringly, kissing his forehead and then ruffling his hair.

Jack felt his cheeks warm slightly. He looked over as a hole suddenly opened up a couple dozen yards away, then blinked in surprise as Bunny popped up out of it.

"What are you doing here?" Jack asked.

Bunny started slightly, his head whipping over and spotting Jack. "Frost?" He said, looking surprised.

"Did you need something?" Jack asked, wondering if Bunny was going to keep popping up all over the place. He appreciated that he was worried about him, but come on!

"No." Bunny immediately replied.

"Then why are you here?" Jack asked with a hint of exasperation.

"'Over a hundred bloody lights just popped up on the globe outta nowhere. North sent me to check it out." Bunny replied, eyeing Azrael curiously as he walked over to them.

"Oh…" Jack said, then quickly looked to Azrael, "Was that me?"

"Yes, that was you!" She replied mirthfully, putting her arm around his shoulders and giving him a little affectionate squeeze. Her voice was still only in his head, but from the way Bunny's ears started flicking around she was obviously letting him hear it as well. "It may be the Pale Spirit that they believe in, but that is you, so it will show up on any measuring devices of your native belief system as well." She turned her attention to Bunny, "That's just this village. It's the most central of the villages. Jack here was just adopted into another belief system, and that belief system is currently held by fourteen other villages as well. They don't exactly have cell phones, but the other villages sent their sick here to be treated by the volunteer doctors, so you can expect to see a few more lights popping up over the next week or two as they return to their home villages and word gets around."

"Wait, what ya mean he's in a different system, what's a pale spirit, and who even is this?" Bunny asked, directing the last to Jack.

She didn't wait to be introduced, "How rude of me," She said, holding out her hand. "You can call me Azrael."

Bunny shook her hand.

"I'm the angel of Death." She added with a pleasant smile.

Bunny's ears flicked back, his eyes going wider as he quickly snatched his hand back. "Is she serious?" He asked Jack, though he never took his eyes off of her.

"Yep." Jack said, grinning and rather enjoying how nervous Bunny looked. "She's Death."

"Aw, he doesn't remember me." She said mirthfully to Jack, then she looked over at Bunny, stepping a little closer, "But I sure remember you! You are one of the most adorable immortals I ever made!" She said, reaching over and scratching Bunny behind the ear. Bunny shivered, one of his feet patting the ground several times before he jerked away, taking a quick little hop back.

She laughed an actual laugh. It was surprisingly light and almost musical sounding. Then she looked over at Jack. "I have to run. I will see you later!"

Jack gave her a quick wave before she vanished.

"What is this? What's going on here? Why you hangin out in the back of Bourke with bloody DEATH no less?"

"What?" Jack asked, "She's awesome! Why wouldn't I want to hang out with her?"

Bunny just sputtered indignantly, obviously not able to even find words to express everything he found wrong with that statement. Then he took a deep breath, calming himself, "I'll let North deal with this." He said, tapping his foot on the ground and making a new tunnel appear. "You. Pole. Now!" He growled, pointing imperiously down the tunnel.

Jack just shrugged, walking over to the tunnel and jumping in just as Bunny was opening his mouth.

"Wait, where's your…"

Jack just chuckled as he slid swiftly through the winding tunnel. He actually quite enjoyed this form of travel. After a few moments it spit him out directly in front of the control panel for the globe. He landed lightly, smiling and giving North a quick wave.

"Jack?" North said, obviously surprised, "Why are you being here?"

Bunny shot up out of the hole and it closed up. "Ya lost yer bloody stick again, didn't ya?" Bunny asked irritably.

"Nope." Jack said, walking over and hopping up onto the rail, then making his staff appear in his hand and leaning on it.

"How…" Bunny asked, stunned.

"Well… apparently Azrael was a little concerned about that fall I took, 'cause I guess there was the teeniest tiniest little chance it could have actually killed me, so she showed me how to put my staff away so I'd never lose it again. I guess she likes me." He said, grinning.

"You are knowing Azrael?" North asked in surprise.

Bunny's eyes darted over to him incredulously, "How am I the only one who doesn't know this Sheila?"

"I am meeting her only once. She is one who is telling me how to save my Emma. How to share my immortality." North said, his voice rather softer than normal.

"Oh." Bunny said, his ears wilting back a bit. "Well… uh… those lights are 'cause of something they were up 'ta."

North looked over at Jack.

Jack's cheeks actually tinged ever so slightly pink, "Um… all I did was play air conditioner for some sick people for a while, and… I guess they 'adopted' me. She said I became a part of their belief system. They call me the 'Pale Spirit'."

"You cross belief system? Congratulations!" North said, his voice booming happily.

"Hold up," Bunny said suddenly, "You responsible for that couple dozen ankle biters that popped up on the globe after that fire a couple weeks back?"

"Um…" Jack rubbed the back of his neck, thinking hard how to word this to avoid involving Pitch, "I, um, only saved one of those kids myself. One of Azrael's other 'associates' saved the other twenty five. They did all end up seeing me though, because the place blew up and I kinda had to blow the debris back away from them so they wouldn't get hurt. That was actually the night I first met Azrael. We just happened to cross paths."

"Wait… you saved a kid's life?" Bunny asked, obviously incredulous.

Jack nodded. "He could see me, so I was able to carry him out before the place went completely up."

"How many you save in village?" North asked with a knowing expression.

Jack's blush had to be noticeable by now, despite his snow white skin. He fixed his eyes to the floor, rather embarrassed though he wasn't sure quite why. "Um… she said eight kids and a couple of adults."

"She mark you!" North said, a hint of wonder, but no question in his voice.

Jack hesitantly pulled the front of his hoodie down a little, brushing his thumb over the skin to make the ankh appear, grinning a bit bashfully.

"Wait, what?" Bunny asked, looking between them, "You work for Death now?"

"Just if there's kids in danger and she thinks I could help them. She said it wouldn't interfere with my work with you guys." Jack added quickly.

"So first you don't even want one job, and now one's not good enough for ya?" Bunny asked incredulously.

"To work for her is very big deal!" North said to Bunny a bit defensively. "I offer, but she turn me down. You must be very special to work for her." He looked over at Jack, "Jack, I am so proud! Very proud!"

Jack smiled happily. He hadn't been sure how his little 'side job' was going to be received by the Guardians. To have North so vocal about his approval was more than he could have ever hoped for.

One of the Yetis hurried over and North got dragged away to deal with some toy related crises. Jack found it amazing that the place was so busy when there was still so much time before Christmas. Now that they were alone, he looked over at Bunny. "You know," he said contemplatively, "Your tunnels would have come in really handy in that fire. If you're interested, next time I see her I could..."

"Not on your Nelly, mate!" Bunny replied immediately, "We're talkin about Death here!"

Jack furrowed his brow, finding Bunny's pigheadedness on the subject irritating. Yes, Bunny had been against Jack joining the Guardians to begin with, but he'd just thought that was a personal grudge because of that little Easter blizzard. Apparently Jack wasn't the only one Bunny made snap judgements about. "You know we all have jobs, and we didn't get to choose what job we got. Azrael is a really nice person, and I don't think it's fair to judge her by which job she got stuck with. And she doesn't just go around killing people. She maintains the balance. That often means actually saving people."

"Was she the one fillin yer head with that rubbish about the Man in the Moon?" Bunny shot back.

"No! I hadn't even met her yet when we talked about that. I did ask her about it though… and he DID kill me." Jack said darkly.

Bunny shifted back a bit at that, his ears flicking back, not sure how to respond to that.

After a minute Jack dropped his eyes and sighed, his voice softer as he continued, "But she also said I would have only lived for another year or two at most, and I never would have had a child… and who knows, maybe he would have picked someone else if he'd had to wait… so I really don't know how to feel about that." He said, tapping the end of his staff on the floor and sending out little delicate wisps of frost across the aged wood.

After an uneasy moment Bunny let out a little sad breath, "Listen, I…"

Jack just quickly shook his head. He didn't really want an apology. It was obvious Bunny had genuinely thought the Man in the Moon would never do anything like that. It wasn't his fault that he'd overestimated his moral standards.

After a few minutes of uneasy silence, Jack hopped lightly off the rail. "Think I'll go do my rounds to a couple of the places that are still cold enough, then get a bit more rest. Spending a couple of hours that close to the equator was pretty brutal and I want to be well rested in case she needs me again."

Bunny just gave him a little silent nod.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Jack smiled blissfully as he flew through the air. He still had to take out his staff when he needed a channel to direct his powers, but he'd found he didn't actually need to have it out to use his powers in more general ways, like when he was flying. While it was 'put away', its magic was a part of him. It made him feel so free to soar through the air completely unfettered, not having the little constant worry in the back of his mind that he might lose hold of it.

It had felt good to cause a little mischief too. Obviously he'd loved being able to help children, but it seemed so serious and grown up that he'd felt the urge to cause a little extra measure of chaos. It was kind of like blowing off steam… he'd just never had any steam to blow off before! Ever since those Yetis shoved him in that sack his whole world had been turned inside out. All those years of nothing and then all of a sudden the Guardians want him to join them and some kids finally started seeing him… and then there was Pitch…

He wasn't sure he'd really gotten his head around what had happened between him and Pitch yet. He still found it mind boggling that he'd really been with Pitch for two whole weeks and not even realized it! Well, ya, he knew a bit of time had passed… but after a very long lifetime without any real intimacy, feeling someone touching him… kissing him… and especially when it went further than that… he'd just longed to feel those things for so very long. When he was with Pitch the rest of the world, and even time itself, had seemed to just disappear.

It wasn't like they had any real bodily needs or concerns that would call their attention to the passage of time. Sure, Jack had slept now and then, but with Pitch's ability to enter his dreams nothing really changed but the scenery and the nature of their interaction. It'd been exhilarating getting to take Pitch anywhere he liked, showing him his favorite places and revisiting his favorite memories… though of course his memories had technically been dreams of memories and sometimes had a tendency to shift or even blend together with other memories. They were much more fluid, and not as solid and firmly based in reality. He supposed Pitch's ability to take him into his actual memory was due to the whole photographic memory thing.

He'd never met anyone like Pitch. For someone who gives the initial impression of being so dark and… well… kinda evil… he could be surprisingly warm and affectionate when he wanted to be. He'd learned a lot about the enigmatic man during their time together, but there was so very much about him that remained a mystery. Not that Pitch kept things from him. He'd freely answered all of Jack's questions… but Jack didn't even know what questions to ask. After all, the man's career had peaked during the dark ages! It would probably take years of doing nothing but talking to even scratch the surface of what he had experienced! Of course, though he did answer Jack's questions when asked, Pitch always seemed far more interested in hearing Jack talk… or telling him about Pippa and her descendants. For someone who claimed to only have dropped by every couple of years or so, he seemed to be an endless fount of stories about Jack's family.

Since he'd become immortal he hadn't had anyone he could even hold any kind of real conversation with, let alone open up to and share his experiences and himself with so completely. And of course while sharing his dreams with Pitch he could do so much more than just tell stories, he could actually show him! They never ventured into Pitch's dreams though. Pitch insisted that he didn't dream anymore. Jack got the distinct feeling that wasn't entirely true… but something about the way he said it, and the tiniest flickers of expression that crossed his face whenever asked about it, gave Jack the impression that if Pitch did have dreams they were not anything he would care to see.

When he slept they shared their lives and their experiences… when they woke the sharing was of course more physical, but it all felt so incredibly intimate. In fact, after a while the change over from being awake and asleep became so seamless it barely even registered. He couldn't help but wonder if he ever would have left if he hadn't been jarred out of the haze of desire he'd been in. Even now he felt himself longing to return to him… but it was a little frightening, realizing how close he'd been to becoming completely lost in Pitch.

He flew over Burgess, gazing down at the familiar buildings as he drifted lower. He alighted in the yard before his family's home and gazed up at it for a long moment before walking up the front steps and phasing through the door. This time he decided to look around the downstairs area that was open to the public. It wasn't clear the original purpose for some of the rooms, they were all just crammed full of antiques, Knick knacks, pictures, a small upright piano and the odd smattering of vintage furniture here and there with no unifying theme for any particular room. It was displayed more like a museum that just happend to be located in a house than a home.

He gazed at an old painting of a large cabin in the middle of a wide open field, no other buildings, just trees here and there, the river just visible in the distance. It looked oddly familiar and yet not familiar at the same time. He moved closer and looked at the placard. Ah, it was the cabin those memories Pitch had shown him were in. The interior dimension of the cabin and the view through the windows must be what made it seem familiar. Or, quite possibly, it was just because he'd actually seen it before, back when it still stood. It was just a stone's throw from his pond after all. He didn't generally mess as much with lone cabins or small groups of buildings, favoring the villages and towns that held more children, but back then there hadn't been nearly as many of those available in the area.

He moved on, looking over the abundance of historical items that lined the walls quite densely, while carefully leaving enough space down the middle of the room to herd the people through using the red velvet ropes so they weren't actually touching the displays. Most of the items were unfamiliar, having undoubtable come from later generations.

He paused for a moment, gazing at the pair of ice skates sitting on one of the shelves. They weren't marked, and they looked ancient and corroded, the leather tops half disintegrated, but he knew without a doubt that those had been his. He pulled his eyes away before he could dwell on the last time he'd worn them, quickly moving on.

The next room had definitely been the living room. There was a large fireplace that dominated one wall, clearly declaring this the center of the home. The mantle was covered in old tin-type and other black and white photos of some of his somewhat more recent family members. Jack's gaze dropped to the chair beside the fireplace. Though it was obviously very old, it wasn't one of the regular chairs like they had been using in the memories Jack had seen. Still, from its position he was fairly certain it was a 'spirit chair'. It wasn't surprising that there would have been more than one spirit chair over the years, given how long the tradition had been going.

It wasn't ostentatious by any means, positioned behind everything else, half hidden, the gentle curves of it almost looking like they were actively trying to blend into the shadows, and yet the vast difference in its style made it stick out amongst the myriad of traditional colonial type antiquities surrounding it. It was meticulously hand carved, and in fact looked to be made from a single piece of wood from what must have been a rather massive tree. The design was more natural and organic, very obviously not Colonial. Though rather worn and a bit faded by time, the designs and patterns etched into the surface of it appeared to be Native American. The style may not be what he was used to, but it certainly looked a lot more comfortable than the usual type they had back then. Though Jack almost never sat in chairs, he was almost tempted to flit over there and try it out. His eyes drifted up to the design carved into the top of the back of the chair and he realized it was covered in painstakingly realistic vining roses.

"Say what you will about his hunting skills, but River was a true artist."

Jack started slightly, looking over and seeing Azrael standing beside him, gazing at the chair as well. "Um, did you need me?"

"No. Just in the area." She noted the concern that crossed his face and smiled, "Not for anything nefarious. I just wander around when there is nothing that requires my immediate attention. Some of the smaller disruptions aren't loud enough for me to feel them from very far away, so I keep moving around, hoping to catch things that might otherwise slip through the cracks. I felt you here and thought I'd stop in. I love old houses like this, ones that have seen so many happy years. They seem to soak up some of the love and joy of those who have lived there. It may be old and fading now, but you can still feel it. This was a good home."

Jack had to smile. "So… 'River'..? Was he related to Rose?" He asked, nodding towards the carved roses.

Azrael looked over at him with obvious surprise, "You know about Rose?"

"Um… some. Pitch showed me some of his memories of the Christmas celebrations in the first cabin built in Burgess. She was there." Jack said shifting a bit uneasily. He wasn't sure if Pitch would want him talking about things he'd shared with him. But surely it'd be ok discussing it some with her? They appeared to be very old friends after all, and she already seemed familiar with Rose.

She eyed him for a moment. "Did he tell you anything else about her?" She asked, looking rather more curious than seemed warranted.

"Um… just that she was a quarter Native American and Jack, Pippa's oldest son, was her father. And both her parents died of influenza the day she was born, but Thaddeus was able to get there in time to save her and adopted her."

"He just 'happened' to get there in time to save her, that's what Pitch said?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes. What wasn't he telling me?" Jack asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Thaddeus was exposed at the same time Jack was, and was nearly as sick as him at the time. When he recovered enough he made his rounds, checking on the relatives that lived in the area. When he arrived and found little Rose it was a full three days later."

"Three days?" Jack said incredulously, "How could a newborn possibly have survived that long?"

"A newborn couldn't have. Not without help." She said as a little smile crossed her lips.

"Pitch?" Jack asked softly.

"Having been looking in on your family for a couple of decades already, Pitch was more attuned to them. As Jack lay dying he felt more terror than he'd ever felt before. He knew he was dying… but what terrified him was the realization that without him, his wife and child would die as well. Pitch felt his fear and came. He arrived about the same time I did."

Azrael offered her hand. Jack reached out and took it without question. There was darkness for a moment, then Jack found himself in an unfamiliar bedroom of a small cabin. There was a young couple lying in the bed, both obviously very ill. The man, clearly an older version of the boy he had seen, appeared to be unconscious, his skin flush with fever. The woman he held to him looked very much like an older version of Rose. She was holding a little bundle to her and muttering feverishly, though Jack didn't know the language.

Jack looked over, seeing Pitch step out of the shadows. He was looking at the young couple with an unreadable expression. The little baby wriggled a bit, crying softly, but obviously was very weak as well. Pitch moved closer until he was gazing down at them.

The woman's eyes drifted over, then widening slightly. She spoke louder, her tone obviously pleading. Pitch shifted his gaze to her, realizing for the first time that she actually appeared to see him, though she didn't seem to fear him. The woman reached out her shaking hand, taking hold of his wrist, and pulled it over, laying his hand on the baby. She kept muttering softly, her eyes sliding closed as tears trailed from them. Her hand went limp, sliding away as her last muttered words sighed from her.

Pitch just stared down at the little bundle for a long moment as it lay there on the woman's still chest. It wriggled again and he let out a little breath, then slowly gathered the baby up, cradling her in one arm as he shifted the blanket aside some and gazed down at her little pink face. He reached up, brushing his fingers over the wispy black hair on her tiny head, then brushing them against her cheek. The baby grabbed one of his fingers, and in an instant his usual cold, unnatural façade vanished and he was the man Jack had only so recently seen for the first time. Pitch gazed down at her, his eyes blazing brightly in the fading light of the guttering candles. After a moment he looked over at the young man. He reached out, brushing his hand over his head and Jack could see the shadows of fear leaving him. The anguished expression on the young man's face eased away.

With that, Pitch walked over to the fireplace in the common room and settled down on the hearth rug. He just sat there, staring intently at the tiny child as phantom flames sprung from the cold ash in the fireplace.

"He sat in that spot for three days, watching over her until Thaddeus finally arrived." Azrael said softly. "I'm not sure why he did it. I think it probably had something to do with his own daughter."

Jack's eyes flicked over to her with surprise. "Pitch had a daughter?"

"Only for about an hour." Azrael said sadly, "Her mother was injured and went into premature labor. She died giving birth, and the baby was too small to survive. He held the poor little thing until she passed. Maybe that's what gave him the will to keep little Rose alive all that time. I had never told him how, but somehow he figured out on his own how to share his immortality with her for a time."

Jack glanced back at the young man lying on the bed. He was barely drawing breath, and he knew it would be moments at best until he was gone. He looked back away, not wanting to watch him die. He knew there was probably no way anyone could have saved him, but at least Pitch had given him peace in the end.

"He never even knew I was here that day until years later." Azrael said, her voice still soft in his head, "No one sees me unless I want them to, and I couldn't bear to intrude. I had come to take the baby, so it wouldn't have to suffer. I try to keep an eye on the families of those that I make immortal for at least a couple of generations." She gazed over at Pitch once more, a soft smile on her face. "I sometimes wonder if he even realizes what he did that day."

"What he did?" Jack asked, looking over at her curiously.

"When he picked up that baby… when he answered that woman's dying wish and protected little Rose, he bound himself to her bloodline."

Jack's eyes widened and darted back over to Pitch, "Is that why…" he started a bit uneasily, though he couldn't quite make himself finish his question.

She looked over at him for a moment, "You're not her descendant. A blood bond flows downstream, so to speak. There's no way it could have affected his feelings for you if that's what you're wondering."

Jack tried to hide his relief, just giving her a little nod.

The room dimmed a bit and then they were back in the old Burgess family home. "Besides, Pitch never felt like that about Rose or any of her descendants. He was more like a silent spirit watching over them. River," She said, nodding towards the carved chair, "Was Rose's husband. He was a pure blood, but probably not considered much of a 'catch' in his village. Not exactly the mighty hunter type. Oh, he was certainly brave enough, but it wasn't exactly easy for someone who couldn't see anything that was much more than about twenty feet away. They didn't hand out glasses like lollipops back then like they do nowadays. I'm just glad she finally found someone Pitch approved of. She was a lovely young woman who drew plenty of male attention, but let's just say you definitely didn't want to be what Pitch considered an 'unworthy' suitor." She said with a little mischievous chuckle.

Jack couldn't help the little snort of amusement that escaped him as he imagined what Pitch might do to those poor young men.

"River was just her friend for many years. Oh, it was obvious he was utterly in love with her, but he was also a smart one, so I think he realized it wasn't a good idea to try to become more than friends without 'permission'. He mostly showed her the ways of their people, their songs and art, and how to make traps and set them. Trapping was the only way he could hunt, so he was really good at it. They were out in the woods one day setting traps and a hungry wildcat decided they looked like a good meal. That boy had nothing but a stick, but he didn't care. He kept himself between Rose and that cat and he fought it off as best he could. Got a nasty set of claw marks on his arm and another across his chest before Pitch arrived and chased it off."

"Pitch can scare animals?" Jack blurted in surprise.

"He doesn't do it very often, but believe me, he can scare them plenty when he wants to!"

"Oh," Jack said, giving a tiny nod, "Sorry, you were saying?" He added quickly, embarrassed to have interrupted her.

"Well, Rose bound up his wounds, then she kissed him. And I'm not talking about some little peck on the cheek! When no nightmares followed… well they got married about two month later. He made this chair as a gift to the family the next Christmas… but if you ask me he was just trying to make sure he stayed on Pitch's good side." She said mirthfully.

"Why would giving a new chair to the family keep him on Pitch's good side?"

"You said he showed you some of his memories of holiday gatherings, didn't you? Even if it was before this one was made, you surely noticed the chair they kept by the fireplace. The one no one ever sat in." She said, looking over at him with a slightly puzzled expression.

"Ya. I asked him about it. He said it was some family tradition. It was for some kind of holiday spirit or something. He said he thought it was one of the ways the family tried to honor Rose's mother and her tribe and their beliefs."

Azrael just stared at him for a very long moment before responding, "By the Gods, are you honestly trying to tell me that after all of these years he STILL hasn't figured out that the chair has always been there for him?"

Jack's eyes widened as the room filled with the light, musical sound of her laughter. After a moment Jack couldn't help but grin. Well, it kind of made sense, but… his grin vanished and his brow furrowed, "But how did they even know about him?"

She finally let her laughter die out with a little amused sigh, "Rose, of course."

"She could see him?" Jack asked in surprise.

"Always. He was all that she knew for her first three days of life. That kind of thing leaves an impression. As a small child she very quickly learned to pretend not to see him, but her parents let her have a chair for her 'imaginary friend', they just told everyone it was a tribal tradition. Of course Thaddeus strongly suspected it was more than just a child's imaginings, but luckily he was smart enough to keep that to himself and to tell everyone that her parents died shortly after he got there. He took that secret to the grave, not even his wife ever knew. It was the dead of winter. There was no explaining why that baby was still alive when her parents were frozen solid by that point, let alone why she was warm and sleeping peacefully, swaddled snuggly in her blankets on the hearth rug."

"Ya, the clergy back then were pretty quick to yell 'Witch!' whenever there was anything they couldn't explain." Jack said, shaking his head as he imagined what they would have done had they found out about the seeming miracle.

"You know, while she was alive, Pitch probably visited Burgess more often than you did!" She said, a smile on her lips, then it faded a bit. "She managed to reach the ripe old age of eighty seven… but I could tell it still took quite a toll on him when she passed on. She'd had seven children, and Pitch looked in on them, and their children, and all of those that followed, but his visits came less and less often… and though he travels all over the world pretty much every day, he never seemed to keep up with any of them after they moved away from the area. Maybe it was because he bonded to her line here. I couldn't say. In fact I'm not even sure if he fully realizes he mostly looked in on her descendants.

"To appease some stodgy old pencil pushers who weren't accustomed to Native American naming conventions, River had used Rose's last name for any legal documents, as did their children. In fact, if it weren't for Thaddeus I doubt they would have even allowed River to own property in that day in age, so it was a pretty smart move to keep the last name of the town's founder. It greased the proper wheels. Many of her descendants still have that last name, even today. Plenty of Pippa's other descendant came to the gatherings here of course, but Rose's descendants were the ones who built this house, and it stayed in their family through the years. Eventually the last of her local descendants shuttered the house, donating it to the town for use as a historical site, then they moved to the west coast." She just fell silent, giving her head a slight shake.

Jack couldn't help but be filled with sympathetic remorse as he imagined Pitch losing them one by one until he found himself once more all alone. No wonder his desire for a family was so strong!

"Of course if the last ones had never left, who knows if you two would have ever even met?"

Jack looked over at her in surprise.

She saw his expression and cracked a smile, "You don't really think it took him three hundred years to master that nightmare sand, do you? Sure he had the idea before, and had started to work on it, but after Rose came into his life he barely even bothered to dabble with it. He didn't start putting any real effort into it again until after the last of them left. As I've said, it was kind of a revenge fantasy after all. He just apparently wasn't feeling particularly vengeful while he had them. In fact, if he'd never gotten 'sidetracked' by Rose and her family he would have launched his little coup a couple hundred years ago, and probably would have won fairly easily. There's no way you would have been strong enough to face him back then. I doubt you would have even been called up to try, and I can't think of anyone else who would have even stood a chance of defeating him. Yes, I believe this would be a very different world if it weren't for Rose."

Jack stared at the innocent carved roses, his mind awhirl.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

When Jack got back to his little cabin he went straight over to the bed, slipping under it and down the tunnel. This time it dropped him directly into the bedroom he had created. He looked around, but he was alone. He sighed, but then silently chided himself for thinking Pitch would just be sitting around the whole time, waiting for Jack's return. He had a job, too, after all.

Trying not to think about what Pitch might be off doing (since it most likely had to do with terrorizing children), he crawled into the bed, not even bothering to remove his clothes. Those long hours in that heat really had taken a lot out of him, and that bed rivalled even the very finest of snow drifts for comfort. He settled in, quickly drifting off.

His dreams wandered, as they often did. They were pleasant enough… but after having experienced sleep with Pitch, even his sleeping mind felt the vague sense that the dreams were a bit lacking.

He was in yet another rather uneventful dream when everything suddenly came into sharp focus. He was sitting on the ledge of a tall building, watching his snow blanket the shining city that sprawled out before him. Suddenly aware that he was dreaming, he realized what that meant and started looking around.

Pitch took a seat beside him on the ledge, looking out over the city. He was in his mostly human form, but his expression was unreadable. Jack just went back to watching the snow gently falling. He wasn't sure exactly what to make of this silence, and it didn't feel right for him to be the one to break it.

So they just sat there for a while, watching the snow. It was quite some time before Pitch finally spoke. "You came back." He said softly, still gazing at the city before them.

Jack looked over at him, furrowing his brow. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

Pitch glanced briefly over at him before quickly shifting his gaze back to the city. "I wasn't sure."

Jack wasn't sure what to say to that.

"You went to the pole." Pitch said softly when the silence started to stretch out again.

"How did you know that?" Jack asked in surprise.

Pitch gave a little snort, "You honestly don't think I keep tabs on the comings and goings of your companions? I do still have a great many nightmares at my disposal after all, so it's not exactly difficult. There are shadows everywhere, even at the North pole."

"Oh." Jack said. He wondered briefly if Pitch was keeping track of him as well, but decided not to ask. "Well apparently the people in the village Azrael took me to adopted me into their belief system, which made that spot on the globe light up like a Christmas tree, so Bunny came to check it out, then took me back to the pole to talk about that and me hanging out with Azrael."

Pitch finally looked over at him. "And how did that go over?"

Jack gave a little shrug, "Actually a whole lot better than I thought it would. North was thrilled. Bunny, not so much. I guess he's a little freaked out by my associating with Death. I think she scares him. It's kinda funny actually."

Pitch let out a little amused breath. "Sadly unsurprising for him, but amusing for those around him I imagine." He said with a little smile flickering over his lips. "So, the people adopted you, just like that?"

"Ya, pretty much." Jack replied. He was vaguely worried Pitch might feel a bit jealous or something, but as he felt the memory of his time with those people rush over him he could help but go on. "I don't know how to explain it. I just connected with the people in the village in a way I've never felt before. They actually helped me when I was getting too tired. She called it 'crowd sourcing positive energy'. It was so… I mean it was just so amazing! You know? And then I guess after that they just all believed in me." He couldn't seem to keep the smile off his face.

"She took you to see her favorites, didn't she?" He asked, though there was no real question in his tone, the smile now firmly on his lips.

"Um… ya. She actually did say they were her favorites. And I guess I can see why. They call me the 'Pale spirit'. Have you ever met them?" Jack asked curiously.

"Who do you think named me the 'Shadow man'? Their naming convention leans towards simplified, vague descriptions." Pitch replied with a little amused breath.

"What would they need you for? I mean…" Jack blushed, unable to think of a way to come back from his rudely blurted question.

Pitch just looked amused. "Some militia group tried to take over one of the villages. I just made sure they quickly realized what a bad idea that was."

Jack's eyes went round. "You can scare adults?"

"Funnily enough, I find it's actually a bit easier to scare adults than it is to scare children. Children are sheltered by their belief in you lot. Adults have outgrown that protection. Scaring them just isn't usually something I do unless Azrael feels they are a danger to those she wishes to protect." He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, then added "Or if I find them irritating. Those men were both. It does require a bit of a subtle approach, but you wouldn't believe how easily my power over them builds. Get the local wildlife to start acting riled, perhaps startle a bird or two into flight. Make little unexplained noises here and there. Toss a couple of pebbles around, maybe break a twig behind them, but of course nothing's there when they turn. Once their minds find the situation unsettling, it opens them up to seeing my shadows. I let them flit by just on the edge of their vision. Nothing they can see directly, always just out of the corner of their eye. The second they fully believe there's something out there in the darkness, they're mine!" He let out a little dark chuckle. "It was rather satisfying watching those militant bastards running off into the dark jungle in piss stained trousers, shrieking like a bunch of little girls."

Jack laughed so hard at the mental image he nearly fell off the ledge.

Pitch had a reminiscing look in his eyes and an uncharacteristically blissful smile crossed his lips, "'Positive' isn't the only kind of energy one can 'crowd source'. I hadn't felt that strong since the dark ages!"

Jack shifted over closer, still snickering a bit as he leaned up against Pitch. Pitch draped his arm around him reflexively.

Jack sighed contentedly at the feeling of being held once more. After a few minutes he looked up. "You want me to wake up…?" He asked a bit leadingly.

Pitch looked tempted, but then let out a piteous sigh. "I would dearly love that… but you shouldn't. You looked exhausted, and now that you're in Azrael's employ you never know when you might be called upon. To be honest, I didn't object more to you 'joining the team' because I couldn't really think of any occasions when she would actually need the services of a winter sprite to save the lives of children… but apparently that was just a lack of imagination on my part."

Jack let out a little amused breath and settled against him a bit more. They sat there in companionable silence for a while before a little smile found its way onto his lips. "I was just thinking…" He said musingly. "You remember when you first came to me in my dreams?"

"Hard to forget." Pitch replied in an amused tone.

"Later, after you showed me the pictures in the house… you said the reason it didn't feel the same in the dream as it did in real life was because I'd never experienced it in the waking world, right?"

"Right…" Pitch replied slowly, looking at him with a little smile slipping onto his lips.

"Well I've had a bit more experience in the waking world since then…" Jack said with a coy smile, flitting lightly over, straddling his lap.

"I think I like where this is going…" Pitch purred, pulling him closer, then his smile turned decidedly mischievous. "Tell me, have you ever been in North's workshop?"

Jack let out a laugh, blushing and grinning. This could get very interesting…

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A/N – this was a long one. Hopefully you will take that into account and give me some reviews as reward for my efforts. It was either that or two short chapters, because the only possible break point was pretty much right in the middle. Don't think that this means my muse has recovered. She's fickle and starving, which makes her highly unpredictable. The first half was mostly written before I even posted the last chapter and that was ages ago, and I honestly haven't written past this point yet. I have a few ideas, but they are still kinda vague. I'm hopeful some of you will see fit to give me some inspiration. And hey, if you are new to this story, or for some other reason happened to have forgotten to review some of the previous chapters, by all means feel free to go back and leave reviews on any chapters you might have missed before. I don't mind if they are out of order. Just please remember to be nice so my muse doesn't storm off permanently.

Oh, and yes, I am well aware that they could change their environment from that bedroom to anywhere they want in Pitch's realm even when Jack is awake, I just don't think they have reached the point in their relationship where they feel they need a change of venue to spice things up yet. I also believe they would have felt an equal need to get to know each other on more than just a physical level, and the division between awake and dreaming seemed like a natural point to switch between physical and mental 'gratification' so to speak. But… I mean as long as they're stuck in the dream realm for the time being, why not have a little fun with it, right?