[short chapter. not done yet, but almost ]

"So this is our heir to the throne? Fallen down an oubliette in the wee hours of the morning? I weep for the future…", sighed Dr. Finklestein. The small skeleton boy lay splayed out on the old man's exam table, very much unconscious. One of his arms, and one leg were quite broken, along with two crushed vertebrae and a bruised coccyx. It was here that the nature of skeletal creatures such as Jack and his progeny created problems. With no external flesh or muscle covering the ivory exterior, and everything of value sealed within, a break was far more serious for beings of their kind than for most others. The white outer shell cracked and separated. The estranged pieces remained tethered only by a vessels and ropes of a tendon-like material. The breaks wept blood and fluid which pooled onto the steel of the table. Jack felt weak at the knees. He had slipped easily down into the oubliette immediately when he realized what had happened. It was no easy task lifting the broken child and carrying him back to the surface. The king deftly wrapped the boy in his coat and white shirt, securing all errant parts, and rushed him here to the one man whom he felt could help with the necessary immediacy.
Sally stood beside the table, silent as stone. Nicholas huddled behind her, peering with terrified eye-sockets around his mother's shoulder. He wished he were still small enough to hide behind her skirt, almost unseen by the rest of the world, but able to keep watch just the same.
"Obviously neither of you had any idea your small child was out wandering at such an unholy hour?", the old man said with a glance at the royal couple. Sally rubbed her temples.
"He was in bed Doctor. We thought he was fast asleep."
Jack nodded in agreement. He so wished they could be seen by the Christmastown doctor but…time was of utmost importance. That and as insufferable as he could be, the evil scientist did know the workings of Jack and his kind better than anyone. He knew all of the creatures in Halloweentown.
"You never heard him get up?", Dr. Finklestein pressed. Sally shook her head quickly. The old man "tsk-tsked." Jack took his wife's hand in his and squeezed gently. He wished he could say whatever he wanted, but with his son's life hanging in the balance, not to mention his own obligation to be civil and kingly at all times, it was best to say as little as possible. He imagined for a moment the old man's face if he had answered plainly:
"Sorry. We were making love. I might have heard something but I didn't much care at the time."
Or there was always,
"Sure we heard him. We are terrible parents, everyone knows that. Your point good sir?"
Jack almost cracked a grin at the sheer surreality of it all. Almost. The sight of one of his beloved little pumpkin seeds in such distress gripped his brain like a claw. Sally watched her creator work. She watched as he set the bones close, carefully replacing the softness within. He braced the break together, then reached for a curved suture needle and thread. Nicholas yelped. Sally nuzzled his cheek before turning back to the procedure.
"He'll look a bit more like his mother when this is done, at least for awhile.", chuckled the doctor. It was hard to tell if his tone was mocking or an attempt at kindness.
"It would seem he already has her judgment and discretion if not her physical resilience."
Nicholas was unsure about the meaning of the Doctor's words, but he instinctively circled his arms around his mother's waist. Sally patted his skull, her heart heavy.