Chapter Two

School had let out only a few hours ago, but the fading late October twilight was ushering in an early sunset. Two boys were delayed getting home for supper, having used the Friday afternoon to pillage the shops for the final and perfect touches to their Halloween costumes. A sandy blonde with green eyes and freckles seemed especially in the spirit, talking excitedly about the full moon that would be out that night, mimicking the beast he would become with the fake fangs in his mouth. His friend, a brown haired boy with sky blue eyes and a paler complexion laughed as they walked along, toying with a giant rubber spider he had bought. Wolf boy let out a howl that was only slightly hindered by the rubber fangs, then picked up a stick to bang along the bars to the cemetery they were walking parallel to.

"Steve," the other cried out alarmed, "Don't do that, it's disrespectful!"

"Relax Darren, it's not like I'm tramping over graves. Besides, I'm just letting the old lazy bones know that tomorrow is Halloween!" With a wicked grin the sandy haired boy began banging more erratically on the fence. "The veil is thinning! Time to cross over into our world! Wake up! Wake Up! WAKE UUUUP!"

"Steve! Cut it out!"

"You're right; we can come back after trick-or-treating tomorrow night and finish this."

"It's almost completely dark out, my parents will be worried soon."

"You're parents need to take a chill pill; they know you're with me and together we can handle anything. What, do they think there's some creepy child snatcher out on the loose or something? We'll be fine, we're always fine."

"Yeah, but let's not get grounded the night before Halloween, okay?"

"Fair enough," the sandy haired boy conceded, and with that they began their trek homeward once more.

He'd been watching them from the growing shadows since they'd entered the macabre shops earlier that afternoon. Ten-year-olds and the closely surrounding ages were always the most interesting to him, still such children that they clung to safety nets like blankets and nightlights, but old enough to start taking note of the world and realizing where the real dangers lay. Their fears swelled up in torrents of infinite possibilities, mingling real with imagined horrors till they paralyzed themselves in fright, held still by the bounds of their own mind. It wasn't just the dark that terrified them anymore, like the younger generation that sat beneath them, and they weren't as jaded as adults who could fear but did very little to express it. No, ten-year-olds still knew how to scream for their mothers and cry as emotion over took them, not yet grasping how to begin to raise up and fight off such staggering feelings. As twilight deepened the surrounding night he began to close ranks.

The brunette took notice of his presence first.

"Did you hear that?" the boy asked, stepping closer to his friend for comfort. Beside him the blond came to a stop and took a look around, glancing over his shoulder with an icey look. The brunette kept quiet and still, checking the other directions. He dropped his voice and asked, "Do you think we're being followed?"

"Yeah," the sandy boy replied. He turned a grinning face to his friend's wide eye look of worry and added, "maybe even by a werewolf."

The brunette let out a breath. "Steve, I'm serious," he hissed. "I feel like we're being watched."

"Well, we can handle it, like we always do."

"I think we need to get home."

"HEY JACKASS!"

"Steve! What are yo-"

The braver boy whacked the thick stick he'd picked up against the fence a few times. "THAT'S RIGHT CANDYASS, I'M TALKING TO YOU! WE KNOW YOU'RE THERE! YOU GUNNA COME OUT AND SAY SOMETHING, DICKWEED?"

Well, this was an interesting turn. He stepped from the shadows and began walking in plain view of his prey, visibly causing the brunette to grow more anxious but the blond held his ground. When exactly had children learned to be this brave at such an early age, he wondered. "Kids today," he muttered, tutting under his breath at the blond. "Two hundred years ago and you'd have a pile of shit as big as your head sitting in your drawers right now." He eyed the other boy. "Both of you would."

"Steve, c'mon, let's go," the brunette replied. He took a hold of his friend's hand and gently pulled at it. Again, the blond slapped his stick violently against the fence, causing his friend to jolt as his fear spiked. Again the blond screamed out, "I WILL FUCK YOUR LAST GOOD DAY UP IF YOU MESS WITH US, DO YOU HEAR ME SICKO? SO GO AHEAD AND TRY FOR IT IF YOU WANT, BUT I'LL CUT OFF YOUR GOD DAMN DICK AND FEED IT TO YOU!"

"You're certainly sure of yourself," he replied as he began to circle the boys. "That mouth of yours will get you into trouble one day, brat. Now let's see, what are you afraid of? Come now, spit it out for me..."

"I'm leaving Steve, there's no one there and we're gunna be late."

"Tch, probably." The blond put the stick against his shoulder and skipped to catch up with his friend.

"Leaving so soon?" he uttered in contempt. "No, I hardly think so..." He stepped in their path and snarled menacingly, flaring out the shadows and spiking them in a jagged dark halo about his head and shoulders. His own sharp teeth gnashed, his hands grew claws, the sounds of a thousand agonizing screams surrounded him, mixed and muddled with a psychotic kind of high pitched laughter. The boys halted again to look around, yet only the brunette's face showed any concern. With a leer he reached out and-

"You realize that you're just going to pass through them, right?"

He spun around quickly, glaring daggers at the new boy that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. A brand new vibrant blue hoodie contrasted drastically with the tattered and frayed hems of the leather pants he wore, each of the limbs coated in a glittering layer of frost. With stark white hair and icicle blue eyes it wasn't hard to tell this boy wasn't like the two others. "Who the hell are you?" he sneered at the newcomer.

"Jack Frost," the tall lanky lad replied, a small cocky smirk tugging at one corner of his lips. He gave a frivolous wave of his hand and a little bow to complete the introduction, then leaned against the shepard's crook he carried. "Trust me, I know these kids, there's no scaring them. Especially that one," he indicated the sandy blond with a jut of his chin. "Wooo boy, let me tell you, Steve doesn't scare for anything. Good try though. It might have worked if they could see you."

"If they could see me?"

"Yeah man, you're invisible, completely undetectable." To make a point the shepard boy moved closer and snapped repetitively into one boy's ear. "Unseen, unheard, unable to reach out to anyone..." He gave the dark man a rueful smile of pity. "I, uh, know the signs really well. Obviously," he added, giving an eye roll and a little chuckle. His smirk turned into an actual smile as he tilted his head slightly to the side to look up at the man. "I mean, you can make yourself almost known, if you're lucky. I've never been able to break completely through, buuut..." He leaned down and blew directly into the brunette's face, a small gust of freezing cold wind blowing past that child alone. Both the boys gave each other wide eyed looks.

"Steve," the chilled boy whispered, "I think you woke the ghosts up..."

"Awesome," the other replied, a smile spreading over his face.

"Ghosts, eh boys?" Jack replied. He looked up at the dark man with his own smirk. "Got any tricks to encourage that train of thought?" Around them the streetlights began to flicker, and shadows undulated in swirling mass, some of them stretching to reach for the ankles of the boys. Jack gave an impressed nod. "Not bad." Casually he leaned over and knocked his own staff against the wrought iron fence, tapping out a light vibration to add to the effect.

"Is there someone here who wishes to speak with us?" the blond boy called. "Do you wanna tell us how you died?"

"Steve, I'm not comfortable with this."

"Shut up Darren, you're not gunna wuss out on me now, are you?"

"No!" his friend replied. "But you've read all the same books I have and you know you're not suppose to just start talking with things you don't know anything about! We don't even have a circle of protection or anything!"

"Do you really think there's anything out there that I can't banish? What are you so afraid of, the boogie man?"

Jack bit back his chortles as he tapped the cocky boy on the back of his neck, sending chills down the boy's spine. The kid whirled trying to see what was there, but was only met with growing darkness. The frost spirit ran his fingers along the fence, swirls of ice spider webbing out before the boys very eyes. He was about to encourage his unseen friend to make another move when a blood curdling scream erupted from within the cemetery not far into the unseen darkness beyond. It was the very last straw for the boys and after a brief exchange of looks they bolted for the safety of home, passing straight through their dark would-be tormentor. Jack sighed somewhat dejectedly. "That's a little bit of overkill, don't you think?" he asked his companion.

"No," came a voice from the darkness. A tall and slender man stepped forth, or what used to be a man as all that was left was bare bones clothed in a form fitted pinstripe suit. "That was a mercy scaring, boys. You're not suppose to linger over a scare Jack, I thought I taught you better. You scare them quickly and move on to your next target."

"Getting an early start this year?" Jack asked, his demeanor relaxing next to the newcomer.

"Of course. I need to see what my competition is like this year. Any decent scarier knows that." He looked the youth up and down. "Oh, this is a new look for you. I like it, it looks good." Beside him the boy pretended to be embarrassed. Eyeless sockets swiveled to the lingering dark entity. "Whose your friend, Jack?"

"You mean he's not one of yours?" the frosted boy replied, seemingly shocked. Both of the other males shook their heads, one seemingly more curious then the other. "Oh, well this is my friend, Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King," the frost spirit indicated the newcomer, "And Jack, this is...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"I didn't give it," the dark man sneered. "Frost and Skeleton? Easy enough to remember I suppose, considering your...conditions."

Both Jacks let a moment of silence pass, waiting expectantly for a name in return. Jack Skellington leaned on the fence, resting his jawbone along the edge of his knuckles. "And you would be...?" he prompted in a slow drawl as if the other weren't smart enough to catch on to what they were waiting for.

The dark man smiled cruelly. "Pitch Black, at your service," he said, throwing out his cape.

The frost spirit smiled and was about to reply when his undead friend hoped over the fence with a roar of anger. "Get out of here!" Jack Skellington hissed. "I know you, and you are NOT welcome here. Stay out of my way if you know what's good for you."

Pitch began to chortle. "If I know what's good for me?" he mockingly replied. "Do you truly know who the hell I am? Go back to your little garden patch and play with your gourds little boy. Stay out of the Nightmare King's way, lest I turn you into a little fearling minion."

"You shouldn't make such empty threats," Jack shot back as he crossed his arms over his chest. Behind him the younger Jack looked worriedly between the two, frost spiraling along his crook and bleeding out on the pavement below his bare feet. "But you're more then welcome to try. I know a washed up has been when I see one, however. You could barely get it up enough to scare those two boys and I'm at the top of my game."

"Oh how cute, you think I play games," Pitch cooed back. "Do you think it's a game how I twist the fears of man into a maddening reality? Do you think it's a game how I swipe the light of children and terrorize them into trauma? Do you think my nightmares are something to be mocked? While you go around having your little fun, I do true works of terror. Your scares really are child's play, shrugged off with a laugh and change of subject. I can't so easily be shooed away. The scars my horrors leave on a person's psyche will last for years and years, and even in their pitiful little graves the souls of all those I touch will continue to scream on for eternity."

"You hardly scare me. And don't think for a single moment that just because you're free now that you have any footing in the world anymore. The Guardians put out the idea of your existence quite a long time ago and I have no doubt that building any kind of power now will be quite the uphill battle for you. Oh and one more thing, Nick and I go quite a ways back so don't think you can continue lurking in the shadows for very long. He'll hear about this, rest assured."

"Oh, is that cod Nicolas still around? Funny, I figured he'd have been dead by now. No matter, I was hoping I would get another shot at running him through with my sickle. Better yet, the little bitch that put me away; tell me, what's become of her?"

"Over my dead body."

"That seems to have already been arranged for me." Pitch shrugged and turned to walk away. "Well, be off then if you must. Go run along and let those fools know I'm back once more. Tell them I'll be waiting for a rematch. Oh and one more thing," he turned, the cruel smile widening on his lips. "Tell them I'd like to know if they ever found that lost relic, and how exactly do they plan to put me away this time without it?" With that he turned into the shadows and was gone, leaving behind a seething Pumpkin King.

"Ummm..." the frosted boy hummed beside the agitated skeleton. The undead man turned a socket to him. "What was all that about?"

"Oh, Jack! I forgot you were there for a moment." Rubbing at a temple the boney man sighed, turning back to face the boy shifting awkwardly behind him. "I'm sorry you had to see that, but it was necessary. You should stay away from that one, Jack. He's certainly not one of mine and he never will be."

"You know him?" Jack asked.

"Of him, I know of him. I'm afraid to say this was our first encounter, one I was hoping would never come to pass. Listen, I have some things to take care of now, this can't go unnoticed I'm sure you understand. But I trust I'll see you out and about tomorrow night? We can catch up then."

"Or I could come with you," the boy replied, his excitement bubbling over at the prospect of having a free pass into the workshop Santa Clause kept. For years he'd been hoping to get even a sneak peek into the operation and any opportunity to try for it that arose was snatched at with eagerness akin to a child tearing into presents on Christmas morning. The spark of hope was quickly snuffed out by the next exchange.

"I'm afraid that would be a dreadful idea at the current moment, Jack. Nick is...recently grieving the loss of a loved one at this time and I think it's better if I just go alone. This isn't good news Jack, it's very serious business and I wish to give him my condolences as well. I just feel it would be in bad taste if I had to leave you alone while I speak with my friend. You understand, of course?"

"Sure," Jack said, forcing a smile to hide his dejected feelings. "If the circumstances were better it'd be fine, I get that. It's not a big deal anyway."

"Thank you," the skeleton said as he grinned back, a kind of pitying look seeping into his eyes as he looked at the boy. "You're an excellent trickster, Jack. It's a shame you don't come live in Halloween Town with the rest of us." His look softened for the boy. "I really think you'd see how much you belong with us if you'd just give the place a real chance."

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "You know I tried and something there just didn't sit right with me," he replied. "I wish I could, but...it's like something told me not to stay." He hung his head with a little shake. "Besides, I don't think everyone would appreciate all the snow I'd blow in, ya know?"

"Well, if you change your mind the door is always open." The skeleton gave a polite bow to the boy. "I must bid you adieu, fair prince of frost. Duty calls and all that."

Jack mimicked his friend. "Fare well then, Pumpkin King. And know that I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night out in the streets and corn fields."

"Bring your top game, Jack. I look forward to a challenge."

The frost sprite waved until his friend turned to leave then made his own way off to a nearby rooftop. Tapping his staff along the shingles, he glazed the incline with swirling patterns of shimmering frost as he walked along mulling the nights events over in his head. He'd learned long ago to back out of the way when it came to anything having to do with the Guardians, but Pitch was the first someone he'd ever seen who was like him; unseen and unheard, independent from any set among the vast unknown world. He trusted the Pumpkin King's judgment, and he knew he owed him at least as much as heeding the warning to avoid the dark man, but Jack wouldn't be who he was if he wasn't curious about poking a hornet's nest. Besides, what else was he suppose to do if he wasn't allowed to break into the workshop that year?

With a sigh he looked up to the nearly full moon raising in the sky. "You got anything to add about all that?" he asked. He was met by silence, as was usual from the glowing orb. "Thought so."

It took a moment for Jack's mind to catch up with what was happening, the image not computing. The girl was young, too little to be much older then three or four years, and Jack had played with enough kids over the years to know when they were genuinely happy. What stole his breath was that it was Pitch, Pitch Black who was actually playing with a child. He caught her in his arms, picking her up in a sudden spin before rolling back onto the ground, careful to keep her squirming body tucked withing his embrace to avoid hurting her in the tumble. His fingers ran frantically over her torso looking for unguarded tickling points, and then he just as suddenly let her squirm free, the game repeating itself once she had gained some distance and turned to give him a play bow. Long shadowy arms loomed over her as Pitch stalked forward, his own grin holding more mischief then malice as he closed in for another capture.

Regardless of wither it was harmless or not the fact still remained that Pitch had shown Jack quite a bit of his true colors as of late, too much for Jack to just overlook this little situation. Gathering his courage, the Guardian of Fun strode out of the safety of the trees and into the clearing , going unnoticed until he was nearly upon them, when the little girl locked eyes with him. They were a rich brown color, vibrant and full of life. Her face was breathless with laughter, flushed a rosey pink color on her cheeks from the play. A wild main of black hair tumbled down either side of her face, individual braided tresses holding fresh blooming flowers or feathers of vivid colors. The pale green nightgown she wore was adorned with tiny roses and daisies, the flowers holding together enchantingly well considering the rough housing. She looked up for a single moment, as if shocked that someone had intruded on the play, then vanished before his very eyes. Just...vanished.

Jack blinked. Pitch stopped as if frozen, staring at his lap where the girl had been sitting and looked dumbfounded. "Pitch, where'd the girl go?" the boy asked when he found his voice a moment later. The dark man looked up at him, seemingly confused. "Pitch?" Jack ventured, concern starting to grow. Yellow eyes zeroed in on him, narrowing into slits.

"Frost," Pitch sneered. He rose elegantly from the ground, his lower torso seeming to melt into shadows entirely. Miniscule changes in the dark being's expression washed over Jack, a resurfacing glace seeming to be one of confusion, but as the moments dragged on and no more words seemed forthcoming the concern Jack felt grew. "Where's the girl?" he asked, trying not to sound too accusing. Pitch stared at him, some cross between loathing and misunderstanding evident on his features. Jack had seen the look before, along with a few variants. It was a kind of 'lights are on but nobody's home' look, a stare from the distance where it seemed like all attempts at communication were going through a heavy field of static before reaching the dark being. The Guardian of Fun closed the distance between them, reaching his free hand up to cup the boogie man's face, hoping what he sensed was about to happen wouldn't. "The girl, Pitch," he said slowly, holding firm contact with golden eyes. "There was a little girl here a moment ago. Do you remember her?" A blank look started to wash over Pitch's face. "C'mon," Jack pleaded, "don't do this to me now. I know you can remember Pitch, just think. She was a sweet little girl, you both were playing together. Black hair, green nightdress, can you tell me anything about her? Hmm? Where you found her? What was she doing out here? Her name? Pitch, can you tell me the little girl's name?"

"This isn't your fight, Jack," Pitch whispered. "Why should you care..."

"I'm a Guardian, Pitch. I swore to protect all the children of this world and right now one is missing; you had her in your grasp and now she's gone. Do you understand how bad that sounds right now? Please Pitch, just show me that she's okay and we don't have to make this into a big deal, okay?"

"Why should you care about the teeth?"

The frost spirit sighed in soft frustration. It was as he feared.

300 years was a long time to be alone, but Jack was hardly a stranger to any of the many supernatural beings that roamed the earth. The Guardians had painted a very vivid picture of their arch-nemesis but Jack would be lying if he said he believed in it fully. He'd met Pitch before, they had had numerous run-ins in the past. Unable to be seen as well, Jack had sought to befriend the boogie man without knowing who he was. The encounter hardly ended well, but over time Jack came to realize that is was due to some instability in the man's brain, something that caused him to fade in and out of the present moment that he seemed to have no control over. He knew there was a way to anchor Pitch, he'd managed it on a few occasions and last year's Easter fiasco had proved to him that Pitch was capable of holding a focus for longer then any session Jack had led him in. He just needed a footing in that hazy mind.

"You made it my business when you stole those teeth," Jack replied, preying for something to make it through.

He closed his eyes, his head rolling back and around his shoulders while Jack's hand came down to rest on his chest. Pitch inhaled slowly and opened his eyes once more, a much softer expression coming to his features. Before him Jack tried not to hold his breath. "Jaaaack," he whispered softly, an odd kind of smile coming to his lips; it wasn't cruel, but it hardly seemed friendly against the inflictions of the boogie man's face. "How are you? Tired of being a Guardian yet?"

"Maybe," Jack ventured, testing the new state of Pitch's mind. "Would you still want me on your team if I was?"

"Who says I'm looking?" Pitch sneered. "You had your chance Jack, you should have taken it when we talked in Antarctica."

The frost spirit swallowed a chuck of nerves and stepped to bring their bodies closer. "Could you really say no to me if I changed my mind?" he asked, hoping his voice wouldn't betray him. "We've had fun in the past, maybe the kind of fun I'm having now doesn't compare to that."

"You told me you wanted to be alone."

Hands began to snake around Jack, shadow limbs that glided over his body and molested every area they touched. His grip on the crook tightened, shots of ice crackling along the shaft from his growing emotions. "I've been alone for far too long already," Jack uttered. He let himself get pulled up against Pitch's body, the man's fingers tilting his chin up to bring their faces close enough for a kiss. "You know that really sucks."

"You're not here to get fucked," Pitch said, a low chuckle bubbling up under the words. "What is it that you really want, Jack? Be honest now; I can smell your fear, remember."

"Have you replaced me, Pitch?" Jack asked, injecting a stab of anger into his own voice. "Hmm? Is that why you don't want me now? Have you found someone else to entertain you, a child perhaps?" In an instant Jack was released and his face forced away by the sting of a slap. He stumbled back, nearly falling to his rump but able to wheel in his sense of balance before it was too late.

"How Dare You," Pitch seethed at him, his expression more enraged then Jack had ever seen it. "I am a lot of terrible things Jack Frost, but there are levels even someone such as I will not stoop too! Where did you get that idea? Did your fucking Guardians tell you such lies?!"

"They hardly need to when I see you make children disappear," Jack spat back. "Where do you keep them, I wonder? Shall I fetch the other Guardians? I'm sure they would be real interested in the child you had in your clutches this morning!"

"I have no child, Jack."

"Oh of course you do! Little girl, black hair, green dress, flowers in her ha-" But Jack never got a chance to finish his sentence as Pitch lunged for him with a feral snarl and pinned Jack to the ground. In the sudden attack Jack had lost hold of his staff and Pitch wasted no time in securing his hands in twisting shadows. Jack screamed for Pitch to get off him, but it fell to deaf ears as Pitch merely roared with animalistic rage.

A gust of wind swept through them then, growing into a strong gale and even jack shivered under the ferocious cold that nipped at his limbs as a result. "GET OFF HIM!" a woman's voice yelled. With another snarl at who had spoken, Pitch released Jack and quickly slithered away. Jack rolled after him, trying to catch the elusive shadows in his grasp, trying to stop pitch from leaving entirely, but as dawn broke over the high thorny walls of the abandoned village it chased away the very darkness that fled from it.

"NO!" Jack cried as Pitch retreated, snatching up his crook and attempting to chase the fleeing darkness, but it was too quick, traveling faster then the speed of light to escape. "No! No! No! NO!" Jack swore and took a swing at nothing, angry at himself that he let Pitch get away with a missing child.

"Jack!"

At the sound of his name he turned and stared wide eyed at the little girl he'd seen before, standing in a patch of tall grass and nearly ducking as if she meant to hide from him. He scanned the area for the woman he was sure he'd heard yelling, the one who had come to his aid, but only saw her. He shook his head and opened his arms as the focused again on the child, lowering himself to seem less of a threat. "Hey, hey, don't be scared, you're okay now. The bad man is gone, see? Nothing to be scared of. C'mon, let's go find you parents, alright?"

She pulled down her lower eyelid and stuck her tongue out at him, then disappeared just as quickly as she had before. And a sudden realization struck Jack just then: she wasn't human.