Warning! this story contains: violence, abusive behaviour, swearing, gay sexual behaviour : consensual and non consensual

This chapter contains a rather OOC Pitch at times, but this is on purpose for the story's sake.

My Jack would not hate Easter... :
Part 6: Succumb:

When Pitch next opened his eyes, he was waking up to the sound of the door to his guest room opening. He stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, listening to the door being gently closed followed by the soft sound of feet, before turning his head to see Bunnymund walking towards him.

"...Hey. You feelin' any better?" Pitch blinked a couple of times before looking the other way.

"I'm fine..." was his quiet response as Bunny came closer, sitting on the chair beside the bed.

"Look, I... didn't say before, but... I'm sorry. Ya know, for last time, when you were in the cell? Sorry, bout' all that shit..." Pitch hummed in response.

"An apology from you; hard to believe... What are you after?"

"I, I mean it, really. I feel bad. We all do..."

"... If you say so..." Bunny sighed. He wasn't surprised Pitch didn't believe he was truly sorry; it would of come as a shock if he'd actually accepted the apology, but it was still something that he'd needed to say so he'd done so anyway.
They stayed like that in awkward silence for a few moments before Bunny spoke up again.

"D'ya... remember what happened last time I came to check on ya?"
That last time, when Bunny had reluctantly left the room after having watched over Pitch for a short while as he slept, he went to speak to North. After the way North saw Pitch react when he first woke up, and how he surprisingly opened up a little to Bunnymund, they decided it was best only one person visit him at a time so as not to overwhelm him, and that Bunny seemed to have a better chance of getting him to talk more.
They felt the need to better understand the situation, so as to hopefully prevent any recurrences in the future, and hopefully be able to help Both Jack and Pitch.
"Pitch?" The man had yet to answer his first question, instead staring out of the window and away from Bunny.

"... Yes. Unfortunately."

"You..-"

"Pathetic, right? That's what your thinking, isn't it. That I would break down in to tears, blather a lode of nonsense and lose consciousness like that." Pitch closed his eyes, waiting for a confirmation, but that's not what he got.

"No. I never thought that." Opening his eyes again, he slowly turned his head to look the anthropomorphic man in the eyes, Pitch's face only showing a small amount of suspicion, blank of any other emotion.
"There was nothin' pathetic about it. In fact, after what happened I was surprised you'd already gotten out of bed. An' the tears? Just shows ya care; I never believed in just how much ya loved Jack, until that moment... There ain't nothin' ta be ashamed of. And I ain't messin' with ya, so ya can stop looking at me like that, ya brumby." At that Pitch's gaze abandoned eye contact and he slowly sat up, scowling at the pain as he did so.
"Listen, there's somethin' I need ta ask. You... said that you were at fault for somethin' movin, again; somethin' that could change Jack. Ya said ya shoud've been guardin 'em. What is that somethin', Pitch?" In response to the question, Pitch clicked his tong before looking at Bunny as if he was suggesting something preposterous.

"Don't be daft, those things I said before were caused by my state..! You shouldn't bother paying what I said then any mind."

"Ya seemed pretty worried about it ta me..." Pitch scrunched his eyes closed and balled his fist in to his blanket.

"Stop it!" The sudden loudness coming from Pitch's still soar throat caught Bunny off guard, making him jump a little. But what took him off guard the most was that just after, the man sounded apologetic, obviously trying to stay calm.
"L-look, I..." Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes.
"Please, I don't want to have to think about the thoughts I was having then, alright?" He looked at Bunnymund from beneath black hair that he surprisingly hadn't tried once to tame back into it's usual style, perhaps just to beaten down to bother. Bunny nodded at him, understanding that this wasn't the best time to be asking certain things.
Pitch, his throat most likely upset from when he'd shouted, lent over to the bedside table to take his glass of water; refusing Bunny's offer to pass it to him as he did so. He gulped it all down before placing the glass back where it had been.
Sighing, he looked back out the window. He said nothing for a minute, gently running his fingers over the healing scrapes on his cheek, before looking down at his hands, flexing his fingers slightly. Raising a hand up in front of himself, he looked confused and that confusion turned to worry as he set his hand back down. He slowly shook his head before looking up at the light in the middle of the ceiling.
Bunnymund wasn't sure what was wrong or what he was doing, but he remained silent as he observed Pitch, who then reached his hand up towards the light. He looked concentrated now, as he squinted his eyes from the brightness. Bringing his hand back down again he looked at his palm, eyes widening slightly and his breathing gaining pace.

"D-damn it..!"

"What's wrong?"

"I... I can't turn it off. It didn't even flicker."

"Huh? The light? If it's too bright I can just go turn it off again. Wouldn't of turned it on when I came in if I knew it would bother ya that mu-"

"No! You don't understand..!"

"Ya right, I don't; mind explaining what ya talkin' about?" Pitch clutched his chest through the jumper he still wore, his other hand still held in front of himself as he looked away from it to Bunny.

"...My powers aren't working." he whispered back.

"Isn't it just 'cause you're weak right now..?"

"No, no not like this; turning the light off should be easy. And I'm not hurt enough to the point were I wouldn't be able to use any power at all." Bunny's ears were now flat on his head as he listened and watched Pitch become more panicked.
"I can't... I can't feel any of my powers, at all..!" Bunny slowly stood, looking a little worried now himself.

"Maybe I should go get the others... Sandy's here right now, might be able to help since your powers are kinda similar an all."

"What? What, no!"

"... Why not?" Pitch tried to answer but didn't know what to say.
"Listen mate, it's not healthy for any of us ta have no control over our powers; not ta mention potentially dangerous ta anyone around." He said the last part light-heartedly, meaning it more as a joke to lighten the mood, as it usually only meant inconvenience. Usually only meaning those around would be followed or accidentally smacked in the face with otherwise inoffensive books, or water being turned in to... not water. Silly things that caused no real harm. But Pitch seemed to take the non serious part seriously.

"You're scared my powers might randomly hurt one of you? L-look I... it's not like that you don't need to worry they can't because they're not here, I promise I won't hurt anyone, s-so you, you don't need to bring everyone in here especially him, so it's fine, just forget it!" Pitch had his hands on the side of the bed, leaning towards Bunny as he literally pleaded with him.

"That's... not what I meant, and... it's not possible ya powers are just gone like that. You'd disappear, right?" Pitch's face was unreadable as he slowly sat back in a kneeling position.
"Wouldn't you?" Pitch looked down.

"I, you're right. I thought so too, but... If that was the case then I should be dead right now. I shouldn't have survived this long after, after Jack... I don't understand." Covering his face with his hands once again he took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Bunny looked down at him sympathetically. The site of Pitch like this was a very sad one that many would likely relish in, but the more Bunny saw him and heard from him the worse he felt about it all. And with what Pitch was saying he was starting to worry what might have actually happened with his powers... That maybe it had something to do with Jack and his turning to a more dark sense of being.

"Then at least let Sandy come n' take a look, I think he'll be able ta read yer powers; and if not maybe it'll give us a better idea of what's goin' on, okay?" Bunny began to walk away but was stopped by Pitch suddenly grabbing his right paw with one hand and forearm with the other.

"Please don't!" Pitch's eyes were wide, nearly panicked, as he stared up in to Bunny's. Bunny, face heating from the sudden unanticipated clinging of the now shaking man, stared down at him with surprise.

"A-are ya... scared of the Sandman?" Pitch's grip on him tightened nearly unnoticeably, and Bunny thanked MIM for the fur he had that hid his blush. Pitch was not looking like Pitch again, in fact, he even looked a little cute, he thought. Golden eyes looked away as their owner mumbled a response.

"...N-no..! Well, I just... you see..."

"Look, it'll be okay. I promise. So don't worry." Pitch looked back up at him, still holding on to his arm.
"If ya want, I'll come in here with him, just me an him, no-one else, an I'll make sure nothin' happens. He won't make ya sleep if that's what yer afraid of, and he won't try ta turn ya into gold sand or whatever, like that time you tried to turn him into a nightmare, if he can even do anything like that, I dunno. But I promise that won't happen. Okay?" Slowly removing his hands from Bunny, Pitch, though he held a sceptical look, nodded slowly.
"Okay then..." he said before clearing his throat.
"I won't be long." Once again Bunnymund began to walk away, this time not being stopped by pleading hands. But when he got to the door, before he could open it, Pitch spoke up.

"What is happening to me..?" Bunny wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or not, but he looked over his shoulder to answer anyway.

"What d'ya mean?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. I'm not like myself... I feel different; my mind feels clearer and I can... remember things... I thought it was all just in my head, but I'm not even sure anymore..."

"Remember? Remember what?"

"I'm... Scared. I'm afraid and I shouldn't be able to admit it, but here I am. And yet, I don't feel as if something's changed me? I-I feel so lost... How can my mind feel clearer than it use to be but also feel so lost? I'm, I'm just, scared, Bunnymund, I really am, but I don't know what of exactly and it only worries me more..." Instead of asking about what he remembered again, Bunny let it slide for now, hopping to reassure him instead.

"We'll figure it out, Pitch. Don't worry, we will. Everything always works out in the end, ya just need ta have hope." Pitch didn't answer, turning his head away and Bunny left through the door to find Sandy and North.

Now alone again, Pitch wasn't sure what to do with himself. Bunny said he would be back shortly, so there was no point in going back to sleep even if he wanted to; which he did not. But he felt he should be doing something, instead of just sitting here and waiting with the unwanted company of his own thoughts. He was already clothed and there was nothing he could think of needing or even being able to do apart from move from this spot to another in the room. Yet somehow it felt as if he may feel better for it.
Slowly inching himself over the edge of the bed, he glanced around the room, taking in the fancy decor and the bright and cheery style of it all that he didn't seem to mind as much as he felt he should. His feet on the floor, he slowly stood, feeling the strain in his legs as he struggled not to shake. He took his time walking around the bed and to the tall window he'd been looking out of previously. He stood in front of it with it's long red and gold trimmed curtains that were pined open with matching gold rope ties, the same as the other two windows along the wall. He ran a hand over the thick velvet and was for some reason tempted to undo the ties that held them open, and it wasn't to do with the little light that was left to come in through the windows, either. Pitch took a step back, looking through the glass to the snowfall outside. He wanted to close the curtains and hide himself away from it, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to look away and let it go.
He stood there a little longer, staring sorrowfully outside, until finally he reached for the end of the gold rope to his right. He was about to pull it undone, when the sound of the door behind him opening stopped him as he turned around to see the Sandman, standing in the doorway with Bunnymund not far behind. Pitch breathed out a shaky breath, letting his hand fall to his side, momentarily forgetting the ties and the curtains and what lay behind the glass panes that he wanted to cover.

"Where do you want me?" The Sandman pointed to one of the plush chairs by the fireplace, and Pitch moved to it without questioning anything else. His mind once again feeling blank; as he found he currently wanted it to. Sandy walked over cautiously, before sitting in the chair opposite the solemn man. Pitch didn't look the smaller man in the eyes, instead choosing to stare at the left armrest of his foe's chair. Bunny had shut the door and was now stood infront of it with his arms crossed, as he silently watched the two carefully.
Everything that Pitch had said or done, Bunnymund had told the others, warning Sandy of Pitch's distrust and fear. As well as the possibility that his powers were possibly no longer his to control.
The Sandman began to sign things out to Pitch, but he didn't seem to be looking at him; even when Sandy waved at him with the hand Pitch seemed to be staring at, the man didn't respond, looking tired and dazed.

"Pitch. Hey, Pitch?"

"Hmm?" Pitch looked over to his left at the large rabbit.

"Sandy's... asking ya ta hold out a hand."

"Oh, r-right." Pitch's cheeks reddened with a faint pink of embarrassment, shocking Sandy a little as Pitch eventually looked up at him, his head slightly bowed in a shy manner. Slowly he held out his light grey hand towards the other, who copied the movement just as cautiously, more worried of scaring Pitch than anything else.
Sandy had to agree that Pitch didn't seem like his normal self. He was originally sceptical of what Bunny had said about him, but was quickly changing his mind.
As his hand hovered over the larger grey one, he was tempted to actually take a hold of it even though it wasn't needed, just to see what reaction that would get. But he held back knowing that wouldn't be fair with what Pitch had been through, thinking an unanticipated touch from someone he seemed to be afraid of may spark an unwanted and painful memory, possibly sending the wounded man into a panic. Pitch already looked worried enough as it was without the contact.
Pitch was now staring just above golden hair, waiting for any instruction he may otherwise miss... again. Which was good, because the smaller man began to spell out with symbols and letters about what he would now do.

"I'm going to try and feel for your powers, it should only take a minute. Don't worry if my sand touches you or circles you, it's just me searching for your power. I promise that's all it is. Okay?" Pitch gulped, nodding uncertainly, then looked over at Bunnymund, presumably for some form of reassurance. Bunny gave a short nod as agreement with what Sandy had said and Pitch eventually looked the said man in the eyes. Sandy took note on how golden Pith's eyes currently looked in that moment. Different to the usual silver with a hint of gold, that would have the viewer question if the golden tint was due to reflection of light or if that was their actual colour, they were now a bright gold colour like Sanderson himself.

"Okay." Pitch said, sounding a little more sure than he felt and probably looked. The Sandman nodded back, giving a small comforting smile before closing his eyes. Pitch watched as the smile slowly turned in to a curious frown. Golden sand began flowing off of Sandy in small wisps that circled around their hands, before gaining size and also circling the shadow man's body. Pitch stayed stock still from fear of any touching his skin, as if it would burn him; but kept his eyes on Sanderson's increasingly confused looking face, his eyes now scrunched shut in concentration.
And then they opened, wide and shocked as the golden man jumped to his feet on the seat he'd been sat on. Slowly he puled his hand to his side as the sand around them disappeared. Pitch had already quickly pulled his away, startled from the sudden movement.
"W-what is it?" Sandy began to sign too quickly for him to understand.
"Slow down! I can't tell what you're saying..!" Bunny walked closer to them, also confused at his friend's reaction and unable to follow the quick pace of the sand above his head. Sandy stopped, still staring over at Pitch as he took a few deep breaths, before signing something a lot shorter and slower than he had just before.

"Who, are, you?" Both Pitch and Bunny stared at him with confusion.

"What are you talking about? You know who I am, I'm Pitch Black." Sandy shook his head slowly, looking over at Bunny then back to Pitch.

"No, you're different. You're not the same. Like a twin, you look like him, you're similar, but inside is different..." Pitch blinked a couple of times, his face blank, then looked back to Bunny and whispered.

"...Is he on something?..." Bunny snorted, holding back laughter as Sandy crossed his arms and taped his foot, unimpressed. They both looked back to him and he continued.

"I'm being serious here!" Hopping down off of his seat he stood in front of Pitch, the man sinking further in to his chair in response as if to keep distance.
"The powers and energies belonging to 'Pitch Black', are not attached to you in any way. They're just not there." He pointed at Pitch, who was once again rather worried, his expression one of shock.
"How can you be Pitch Black, if what makes him the enemy we once fought, does not exist within you?" Pitch looked away, his brow creased.

"If I'm not Pitch Black then who else could I be?" He felt a light tap on his knee and turned his head back again.

"You told Bunny you remember things; things you didn't know before. Things you weren't sure were even real, yes?" Hesitating a little, Pitch nodded slowly.
"Do you remember a name? Think a little; a name that might just be... yours?"

"W-why would some fucked up thoughts born from fever dreams and bad experience mean anything? Non of that's real!" His breathing was picking up pace as he griped the armrests of his chair, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

"If non of that's real then you should not be real because without those powers, if you are Pitch Black, then you should be dead!"

"Stop this..!"

"Those powers are what make Pitch Black who he is; the Boogieman, the Nightmare King, the personification of children's fears; Pitch Black is those powers and those powers are him..."

"Stop it!"Gripping his hair in fists at the side of his head he doubled over, still reluctantly looking at Sandy through shaggy hair and blurred vision.

"Sandy..."

"I am real! I'm right here in front of you, speaking to you; you can see me! I know you hate me more than anyone, but don't try to make me think I don't exist..! I exist... "

"You exist, but you're not who you think you are..."

"Stop!"

"Sandy, I think that's enough."

"You were the Boogieman, you were the Nightmare King; you were Pitch Black. But now, it appears you are who you were before that power. I think the Pitch Black we knew died not too long ago, and I think we both know who killed him." Pitch could only see blurry shapes now, and he realised it was because his eyes were filled with tears that had now started their way down his reddened cheeks. He hid his face in his knees, and faintly heard Bunny talk to Sandy in an angered tone.
He tried to block everything out from that point, letting fresh tears soke into the pants he wore.
He stayed like this until he felt something touch his shoulder. He jumped at it but only curled in on himself even more.

"Pitch... Hey, it's okay. He's gone now; told him he shouldn't speak to ya like that n' he left so ya could calm down. ...He said sorry; think he gets that that wasn't right t'say like that." Pitch didn't respond, and Bunny scratched his head, feeling bad.
"And... I'm sorry too. Told ya it would be alright, and I guess it's not." There was still no response, but he supposed he was listening to him as the grip the man had on his hair loosened, as if what he'd said had calmed him down a little. Bunny reached out a paw and gently petted the mess of black hair, sitting next to the chair and waiting.
After a few minutes, Pitch lifted himself into a hunched over sitting position. If there was one moment he had to choose to say the man looked nothing like 'Pitch Black the Nightmare King', It was certainly now. With the shaggy mess of hair, Golden eyes that shone with tears that still fell down his blushing face with it's otherwise olive/grey colour, a sad pleading expression and his casual attire, it was hard to see him being the same man. But Bunny wasn't going to say that to him, especially now. Instead, he did something he probably shouldn't, and pulled the man into a hug. He felt him tense up, but then relax a little, his forehead coming to rest on Bunny's shoulder.

"...I... I do remember a name." he started quietly, and Bunny listened as he held him gently.
"But it doesn't matter now... Because that man and his world died millennia ago. The Sandman says I'm him but that's not true. My experiences as the Boogieman and as your enemy shaped me to be far different to him. I am Pitch Black, because there's nothing else left for me to be. ...I've lived this life as Pitch Black for longer than you've been Guardians, and remember it and feel the suffering, loneliness and anger. And the love... I'm still him. I'm more him than the man I was before. So I am Pitch Black. If I'm not, then all those memories and all that time and suffering means nothing. I'm still the same man, just... a little more as well. You believe me, don't you?" Pitch lifted his head and Bunny looked him in the eyes; those incredibly beautiful golden eyes.

"Of course." Pitch was right. Sandy might have been right in a way, but the now seemingly lighter and kinder changed heart of this ancient spirit was still, as said spirit had just said, more Pitch Black than whoever he was all those millions of year ago. He shouldn't be forced to be someone other than who he felt he was. As he said, who else did he have left to be? And why should he go back to such an old and possibly tormented, possibly even more so than now, self, that had to have died before the Guardians ever came to be. Bunny wasn't sure how Pitch's powers had worked, how he got them or how it managed to affect him in the way Sandy made it seem. But it was obvious now that it was due to them, possibly them alone, that he'd ever been an enemy or threat; and it seemed a great possibility, that that's why Jack now was.

"I love him you know; Jack. I still do. What he did, it's not the real him..." It was as if Pitch had read his mind, and it took a moment for Bunny to answer.

"... Yeah. I know." Bunny nodded and Pitch actually smiled at him. It was small and his cheeks were still damp from tears, but it was a true smile non the less. He then looked away and Bunny moved from the hug, standing.

"Do you... know of any books I might enjoy here? I don't feel like sleeping and I've not much else to do. If you could bring me one or two I would be thankful for the distraction."

"Sure, I'll see what's in North's library."

"... Thank you." Pitch looked up at him, but only for a second before he looked back down again.
"For everything."

"Ya welcome." Bunny replied, smiling a little, before turning to leave for the library.
Pitch looked up to watch the door close as Bunny left the room. He used the soft sleeve of his jumper to wipe at his damp face, and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and shakily.
He'd let one of his worst enemies hug him; he really wasn't himself, he thought. He may feel a little differently about things and be reacting differently than what was known as his usual, from having regained memories that became clearer and realer by the minute as well as feeling as if something like heavy fog had left his mind, but the reason he let that hug happen was solely because he was desperate and vulnerable. And it pained him to admit it to himself. It had felt wrong, but at the same time it was distracting and oddly comforting. A replacement for the only person for whom he actually craved such contact...
He stayed in his seat for a few minutes, staring at his socks and digging nails in to his hands, before he stood up, making his way back over to the window by the side of his bed.
And then, there was a loud bang.
He turned on his heels, staring at the door in shock. He could hear a rising commotion alongside the sounds of braking glass, and he swore he could feel the floor shaking as if large objects were falling, vibrating the building as they impacted the ground. His heart felt as though it might break through his chest and he could no longer tell the difference between the shaking floor and his own trembling body. And with his quick breathing, came small puffs of mist that quickly became denser, and he realised the room had become much colder. He turned slowly back towards the window, it's curtains still tied open, letting him see outside. Letting him see a floating figure amongst the snow storm that raged far stronger than before.
It was Jack.
He couldn't move, only stare on as he got closer; but the once kind boy he loved so much didn't get close enough to open the window. He stopped a little over an arms reach away, staring in on him with a fake kindness in his eyes and a sickeningly sweet smile on his thin lips. Pitch couldn't tell if he was scared to see Jack or if he was happy to see him. The thought of him getting closer brought out the fear of being hurt again, but also the need to hold and be held by the one he loved so dearly. He blinked back tears, and got closer to the glass pain, never looking away from Jack's bright silver eyes. He was just floating there, staring back at him, a darkened staff in hand. Why wasn't he doing anything?
He could still hear banging and crashing, along with the distressed sound of shouting, coming from other places in the Workshop; but Jack Frost floated there, watching him. Yet he wasn't trying to come in and get to Pitch.
Was it that he couldn't, or did he just not want to..? Ether way, he knew the real Jack who loved him back was still in there, he had to be. Maybe even aware of everything but unable to control himself. If Jack still wanted him, Pitch couldn't just leave him, could he? To force him in to solitude, to be despised and alone, lost in his new dark way of thinking, unable to be any other way, just like it had been for Pitch himself...
Pitch placed his hand on the glass pane as he pondered his options, and Jack responded to it by holding out a hand as if to ask him to take it. Pitch's heart fell at the new look in his eyes as he did that. Jack looked sad, maybe even a little scared, his smile wavering; as if worries of rejection and hate towards him were climbing there way in to his mind; or more accurately, clawing their way out of a cage in his mind.
He couldn't take it; this was his own fault so how could he leave Jack to suffer through this on his own? How could he dare even think it an option to run from him? He loved him more than anything, for best or for worst. So, with his other hand he reached for the handle to open the window. But just as his fingers came in to contact with the gold plated metal, the door to his room slammed open.
Surprised, he looked behind himself; it was Bunnymund, eyes wide and blood down the side of his face.

"Pitch, don't!" In that moment his fingers twitched on the handle, threatening to move away, to not let Jack get to him and close the curtains instead as he had intended earlier. But instead, he looked back to Jack who hadn't taken his eyes off of him, hand still held out, waiting for him. Pitch's fingers curled around the handle and Bunny shouted to him once again.
"Don't open the window! He can't get inside unless ya open an entrance for 'im! We found a protection spell ta put around the Workshop, so ya safe here, Pitch. He can send the wind ta break things as much as he wants but he can't get in unless ya let 'im. Follow me, okay? There's a safe room that I ca-"

"No. It's okay... Besides Jack is were I belong."

"Pitch..."

"I want to go back. I have to do this."

"No, no ya don't..! Stay with us, we can help. We can keep ya safe!"

"Even if you can, who will help him? I can't have him be hated and alone when this is my fault. How cruel would it be of me to let my lover suffer that solitude, when I know exactly what it's like to be alone with only shadows and Fearlings for company... He needs me. And, I need him."

"D'ya need him ta rape n' beat ya whenever he feels like it?!" Pitch flinched at this, and Bunny hoped he might be getting through to him. Then he noticed something in what Pitch had said.
"Wait.. did ya just say ...Fearlings..?"

"So you've heard of them then..." Bunny's fur stood on end, shaken from hearing someone talk of those ancient monsters as if they actually existed.

"But... they're just old stories. Even if they were real they were destroyed millions of years ago..!"

"hmm... What a nice though that is. Is that what's written in whatever book you read about them in? I wish it were true. But according to these old memories I've regained, I'm afraid we all failed that task. Myself in particular..."

"You..?"

"My old name; perhaps not but, I think you may already know it? Then again with how long it has been and how stories get warped I may not even be mentioned..."

"Y-you can't be..."

"Can't be who? E. Aster Bunnymund, the last Pooka?" Bunny's eyes widened; how did Pitch know that?
"I'm remembering so much, and it keeps getting clearer and clearer... It's really all real, isn't it..." Pitch stated to himself more than questioned, and smiled an odd broken smile.
Bunnymund's lips trembled as he remembered a name, but found it hard to say, as it was hard to imagine that legendary man and Pitch, who he'd fought in the past, being one and the same.

"...Koz... Kozmotis, Pitchiner?" And yet it seemed to fit perfectly. The things Pitch had said, the way he looked, the powers that had now betrayed him. Even his current name.

"I have to- I have to go now."

"No, wait!"

"Thank you, but goodbye." Pitch suddenly pulled the window open, and Bunny was nearly thrown back by the cold wind that flew in to the room.
Jack's smile looked warm in contrast to how cold the air that smoothed against Pitch's skin and ruffled his hair felt, and he smiled back; taking the boy's hand without any further hesitation.
Bunny had run over and tried to grab him, but just missed his ankle as Jack pulled him outside.
Snow swirled around the two of them alongside shadow, as Jack lovingly and possessively pulled the willing Pitch in to his arms, until they were completely concealed by the blackened snow.
Then, just as quickly as they had appeared, the shadows fell and the snow dispersed.
The storm calmed, the sounds of breaking glass, shouting and crashing stone all came to a halt.
The lovers, were gone.
But this was far from the end.
The chaos of their story had only just begun...

End of vol.1

-Coming in 2018, vol.2, love in the shadows (placed before vol.1 and may be the shortest volume).

-Coming after vol.2 will be vol.3, the last part of the series, possibly the longest, and placed after both previous volumes.

I hope you like this last chapter to this first volume of the now 3 volume story!
I had some trouble figuring out what i wanted to do exactly, so it took me a long while to get this out, and I'm not one-hundred percent happy with it, but happy enough. I hope It's well enough explained while still keeping a little mystery?
As you may have noticed I've decided to mix a little of the book's law into this story (but sometimes with my own twist on things). As in for the Fearlings, and Bunny being the last Pooka, nether of which are mentioned in the film universe as far as I am aware. Though I've not read any of the books myself, I have a little knowledge of them from research and other fanfics that I've read.

Also if you'd like to know why Bunny is suddenly so easily caring and kind to Pitch compared to before, he's 'suffering' from the 'Florence Nightingale effect'.

I'd love to know what you all think, so please do leave a comment!
And thanks so much for your support and for reading!