Chapter 11
Pitch and the Sandman are not exactly enemies, or at least they aren't on such bad terms as Pitch is with, say, the Easter Rabbit, but they aren't the best of friends either. It isn't hard to be friendly with the Sandman, really, for he is a fuzzy and amiable sort in the way the dreams he weaves are.
There is such a thing as too good natured though, and often the smaller Dreamer's friendly attitude ends up irritating Pitch.
He is on the long way back to his lair when he crosses paths with the Sandman, and Pitch is a little grateful that Sanderson had not come across him earlier, when he still had faery blood (or what passed for it) on him. That would have been awkward to explain away, especially as much of his being unbothered by the Guardians rests on the illusion of him not being a threat.
"Sanderson," Pitch greets, unable to completely hide the wide smile that has been on his face since he slowly and painfully tore the faery's arms off before hitting him with them.
The smaller Dreamer shifts, symbols over his head flashing in a quick order that those unfamiliar with might not understand. "Just out and about," Pitch demurs, forcing the shadows to be still around him. The Sandman smiles, an eyebrow raised in polite disbelief, and Pitch sighs. "Really, Sanderson, you have better things to do than converse with me."
A silent laugh, and another flurry of symbols that end with a snowflake.
Pitch freezes. "I had no idea you were such a gossip," he says coolly, back stiff as he looms over the small Dreamer and his hold over nearby shadows loosens enough that they wriggle and squirm. Sanderson is not impressed, pressing again with the symbol of a snowflake and then, oddly enough, the moon.
It's fascinating, the way he forms the sand from seemingly nothing, and that it can be used for such a myriad of purposes. Pitch tears himself from his not exactly benevolent thoughts regarding the sand when the Sandman flashes a question mark over his head followed by an egg.
Pitch rolls his eyes. "The rabbit is overreacting," he says. "I've no designs to use Jack to destroy your precious friends or against children." He adds in a mutter, "For some reason she actually likes the squalling brats."
Both of Sanderson's eyebrows raise and there is a small dress over his head, then a suit, and then the snowflake again.
"How should I know?" Pitch asks haughtily. "It was your esteemed leader who gave her her name after blocking her memories." He leaves out the information that blocking her memories was probably for the best, as otherwise Jack may have attached herself to her still living family, possibly becoming a wraith as she grew increasingly obsessed with them as their lives progressed.
Let the Guardians stew over their precious Moon having done such a terrible thing to a spirit, let them feel guilty over ignoring a spirit they didn't think was important. Sanderson certainly looks worried enough, though that may also be in part from the shadows moving around them, feeling the quiet simmering anger Pitch holds regarding the Moon and Jack.
He's had time to think regarding her past while he hunted down the damn faery, and had also taken out quite a bit of his anger on the idiot who thought tormenting innocent spirits was a jolly pastime.
There is a tinkling sound as Sanderson flashes several symbols in quick succession and Pitch only catches the tail end. "Excuse me?" he asks, not quite sure he's reading this correctly. With a silent huff Sanderson repeats the symbols. Pitch scowls. "Well you can tell North to shove his "polite invitation" up one of those furballs he employs. I may not be as powerful as I once was but I am not at his beck and call and sending you to track me down is beneath you as well."
A sleigh followed by a tooth and egg flashes over Sanderson's head before he shrugs apologetically.
"If so much as one of Toothiana's helpers disturbs me I'll use its feathers to make a pillow," Pitch sneers. "And I do enjoy a good omelet from time to time."
The Sandman waves his arms and several more symbols flash hurriedly over his head.
Pitch's eyes narrow considerably. "What do you mean the rabbit went to my home?"
The intermittent moments Jack is awake are hazy and half remembered, bundled in a swathe of darkness that is not unduly warm. When she finally does awake, it's because of an annoyingly familiar voice.
"Oi, Pitch! Get out here ya bleedin' toothpick!"
Jack wonders idly whether this is a nightmare. Pitch wouldn't do that though, especially not one about someone who annoys him as much as- Bunnymund, she recalls the Easter Rabbit introducing himself as. "What the hell," she mutters and is pleasantly surprised that her throat doesn't hurt nearly as much as it did the last time she tried to talk. However long she's been drifting between sleep and waking has at least given her time to heal.
Well, somewhat, she muses, wincing at the sting across her chest from the wound there. She looks around and fortunately her staff is within arm's reach. It's a little difficult to stand while keeping her balance and the blankets wrapped around her, but a couple of strategically iced places and the blankets form a sort of sack like robe. She has to lean on her staff more than she would like, but hey, she isn't about to look too weak in front of the overgrown rabbit. She has a reputation to maintain after all.
"North just wants ta talk ta ya is all!"
Jack frowns, both at how loud the voice is as well as what is being said. What on earth could the Guardians want to talk to Pitch about? A bit of a rhetorical question, she realizes since they are at each other's throats most of the time. Pretty rude of him to just barge right on in without so much as a knock though. A smirk crosses Jack's face and she conjures a snowball, noting how much effort is needed to do so, which she then proceeds to throw at Bunnymund as soon as he enters the room.
It hits him square in the face and the look of fright and surprise - he was probably expecting Pitch to strangle him or something - is absolutely hilarious and Jack laughs, despite how it hurts her throat.
"Wh-wh-" the Easter Rabbit splutters before glaring at the winter spirit.
"Don't you know you should knock before entering someone's home?" Jack giggles. "So rude, especially for a Guardian!"
Bunnymund growls, ears laid flat. "What are you doing here?" he demands.
"Well, sleeping before you woke me up," Jack retorts.
"Sleeping? Here?" Bunnymund asks incredulously.
"I think I just said that," Jack says. "Shouldn't your ginormous ears give you better hearing?"
Bunnymund scowls. "Where's Pitch?"
"Out and about? I don't know, I'm not his keeper," Jack replies, waving her staff around. "He's not kicking your ass for barging in uninvited though, so he's not here. So scoot, lemme get back to healing."
"Healing?" the rabbit stares at her with scrutiny before his eyes widen. "Did Pitch hurt you?"
"What?" Jack asks, baffled. "Uh, no. Why would he? And don't say because he's evil," she adds before Bunnymund can say anything.
"Where are yer clothes?" Bunnymund demands, loping closer before Jack stops him by sticking her staff out in front of her as far as she can.
"None of your business," she snaps, the air temperature around them plummeting. "And if you're so interested in my well being then scram."
"What did he do to you?"
"Nothing!" Jack insists, frost creeping on the stone floor below her.
"Listen kid, this is for your own good," Bunnymund says and then, faster than Jack can move in her injured state, he ducks under her staff and picks her up.
"Let go of me!" Jack yells, ignoring the way her throat burns and then she yelps as a hole forms underneath them and they're gone from Pitch's lair, into a tunnel that leads who knows where.
A/N: Ehehehehe, everyone's in trouble now ;3 Btw, writing Sandy is hard, much harder than I expected. Oh dear Bunny, you try to be a gentleman, but this isn't the best situation for it x3;;
Hope everyone liked the chapter; I've decided to participate in NaNoWriMo this year with an original story I've been working on but I'm still going to keep my update schedule going as usual, so expect the next chapter in 3 weeks.
Have a happy Halloween!