A/N: My god it's been a while, eh? Apologies for my unofficial hiatus, I'm hoping the next update will be much quicker! Now, this is a much shorter chapter than the last two (which felt crazy long to me at 9000-10000 words), but it really goes hand in hand with what I have planned for the next one, I just made the decision to split because, a.) length and b.) it's been far too long since the last chapter. Still, it's fairly action packed so... no hard feelings? I'm still not sure about how this one reads so drop a review or IM if you have questions. I'm hoping things are easy enough to follow so far.

As always, my love goes out to those of you who followed/favourited/reviewed. Even the views on the last chapter were phenomenal for what I usually get (or is that just because it was long? Whoops...)!

REVIEWS:

Crossover Junkie: I think you've caught on by now that I love to take some inspiration from your comments, and what you imagined certainly influenced Pitch's reaction (I hope that's ok!). Aw! I'm so glad you think so! That's best thing I could ever hope to hear for Val so thank you times a million. I'm making a really conscious effort to give her genuine flaws, after all she's far from perfect. You may have noticed she tends to let her heart rule her head - which makes sense given who she is. She's just doing her best, like everyone else.

Skyress1: Looking back I highly appreciated the melodrama of your review. Let's hope things aren't quite so grim for our heroes going forward...

Though Pitch had always considered himself to be a man of decisive action, there were some instances where even he, so quick with his wits, was at a loss for what to say or do. And much to his chagrin, this just so happened to be one of those times.

For several minutes he stared up at the footage. Over and over it replayed the scenario again; Him, hurling powerful magic at something that so closely resembled what he had created, yet was nothing like his once-considered masterpieces. And he was doing so to help the very band of spirits he'd once vowed to crush under his heel like squirming insects. There was no mistaking it. They were all accounted for; The snide turd of a dream weaver, the abrasive Pooka, the jovial frost sprite. Even his Valentina was among them, the miniature figure of whom stole proud glances at his own imitation in-between deflecting dangerous sand blasts. Dare he even think to admit it to himself, in standing united with them he looked nothing short of heroic…

And it caused the acrid taste of bile to rise in his throat.

What he saw was a mockery. A ghost of his past self jeeringly dangled just out reach by the Man in the Moon. As his stomach clenched and his mouth became dry, Pitch felt he had two options; Discuss things rationally with a level head — Or obliterate the crystallised source of his vexation entirely.

"Well?"

Pitch spoke calmly with the softness of velvet, though he was none the less intent, and as he did his sharp amber gaze pinned each of the Guardians in turn, searching all of them for anything that wasn't a look of dazed shock. No such luck; They only blinked back at him like a parliament of stunned owls.

"…Well what?" North repeated, uncharacteristically meek.

"I'm waiting."

"Waiting for…"

"For the punchline to what is apparently Manfred Lunanoff's depraved idea of a joke!" he finally snapped.

Calm be damned, he could not accept this. Perhaps he was hallucinating… Yes. He'd obviously hit his head harder than he'd thought, and it was responsible for this abomination of a reality he'd concocted for himself. Either that, or the Man in the Moon had an even darker sense of humour than he did. Which, all things considered, really wasn't too far outside the realms of possibility.

"It's not a joke, Pitch," said the Fairy Queen, astonished that he could suggest such a thing.

"Damn straight. Manny would never mess around with something like this," Bunny agreed, though the growl of his heavily accented voice betrayed exactly how he felt about what he was seeing. It was no secret the bottle of eggnog he held clenched in one paw would mysteriously disappear by time the night was through.

Pitch's breath hitched and the Guardians observed as an expression of shocked outrage slowly warped his features.

He was serious. The Man in the Moon was actually being serious. After everything he'd done, and after all he'd endured from these spirits at the command of the Tzar, he, the infamous Boogeyman, was being offered a Guardianship? His rage boiled over and for a second he could have sworn he literally saw red as blood thundered past his eardrums. But Pitch did not act as rashly as he so easily could have. Nor did he destroy the very Globe Room that North and his colleagues held dear, like they had been bracing themselves to expect.

No… Instead, he walked with his head held defiantly high until he was standing directly beneath the pale beam of light, illuminating his gaunt face eerily.

"With all due respect," he hissed, sneering up at the silver face of the moon, "either you mistake me for some kind of imbecile, or you're completely insane." His response elicited defensive gasps from the Guardians, sans Valentina who was observing the exchange with a critical eye. But Pitch remained undeterred by them, and he addressed his 'old friend' as though his audience were not even present. "You can demand all you want of me, from now till the end of time, but you will not con me into being one of your little toy soldiers, Tzar Lunar."

"Pitch, you don't-"

"Don't what, North? Say 'no' to the spoiled child?" the dark man challenged rhetorically with a sweeping gesture to the sky. "Well, this wouldn't be the first time I've done so, and until he learns how to take a hint, it won't be the last." Turning his attention away from North, Pitch's final declaration was intended for the Man in the Moon, alone. "I am not a Guardian, and I never will be. You're as much a child as the humans you attempt to wrap in cotton wool if you think changing me to fit your ideal little world is going to work. I'm not supposed to be good like the rest of them. I am not supposed to be loved. That's not who I am!"

Taking in the expressions of the Guardians, he was not confronted by the resentment he usually evoked, but rather he garnered doleful, downcast aversions to his gaze. No one sounded a response, and he didn't know if that was because they were too speechless to speak, or if they were silently agreeing with him. Whatever it was, he couldn't bear it any longer. He couldn't bear this place any longer. He'd been cooped up in the stifling confines of the North Pole for far too long and claustrophobia was starting to fester within in him (the irony of which did not escape him in the slightest). In meeting Valentina's eyes for a brief moment, he knew she disagreed, he knew exactly what she disagreed with, and it was why he hoped she knew of his regret before he did what he did next.

I'm sorry, his mournful glance said.

Before any of them could think to plead the Moon's case further, Pitch summoned a swirling vortex of nightmare sand which engulfed him like a black hole, an impressive display of his power even when basked in moonlight. The twister then dwindled and dissipated. The Nightmare King had vanished without a trace, leaving Valentina to face the affronted horde of childhood spirits for the first time since he and Bunny had gone toe to toe. She didn't even think to resent him for it.

"Val, is it true?" Tooth's quiet voice cut through the silence left in Pitch's sudden absence, and Valentina blinked in a confused fashion back at the fairy hovering beyond the raised crystal.

"What are you talking about?"

"Pitch told us everything about you. At least what he thinks he knows," she explained, flying over to where Valentina stood while the others gave various affirming nods. "We're just not…" convinced was the word she struggled to express. "Do you actually think what he said is true?"

Her surprise at the fact that Pitch would have told them anything at all aside, she was well aware of the dubious gazes she received from the uncomfortably shifting collective. Though they tried, they could not conceal their revived distrust of her and who she allegedly was. It was a blow to her morale after feeling like she'd made some progress with them over the past couple of weeks, but given they were clearly seeking one answer from her, there was no gentle way to let them down.

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life," she confirmed to poorly masked bewilderment. Tooth simply offered a stiff nod, acknowledging but not entirely believing what she was hearing. "And just so you know," she added, "I didn't run away from Pitch."

It was here that Bunny's ears perked up. Two pairs of green eyes met instantly resulting in an almost palpable tension that permeated the room. Minutes seemed to pass in what were only a few seconds as Valentina held his stare, trying to read his thoughts. She couldn't be sure if he'd understood exactly what his blatant overreaction had done to her, but when it became clear he was going to offer no apology, not even for his cruel remarks, she averted her gaze to the fairy at her side.

"Tooth, I'm still me, " she reassured her friend. "I know this might difficult to take in. I'm having trouble coming to terms with it myself, but I think it's true. I want to believe it's true. And let myself hope that it might be because of Emily Jane. Tooth, I don't know how to explain it but when I think of her I just know. It's something undeniable I feel deep inside."

"Not to be the skeptic, but you've never even met," she pointed out as sympathetically as she could, "at least not in this lifetime. How could you know? How could either of you have even guessed?"

"Because there has to be a time when I was that poor girl's mother." she stated firmly. It was funny; The more she said it, the more strongly she held her conviction, and it felt good to be sure of something. For once. "Those dreams I told you about? I think they were memories of her."

The fairy's mouth gaped open. "You didn't say that! Why didn't — I could have helped you!"

"Because I didn't realise! Really, I should have spoken to Sandy a long time ago, I was just scared," she admitted sheepishly to appease the dreamweaver who looked sternly to her with his arms folded. "But I suppose none of that matters any more. I found those memories somehow in the end, though I appreciate you wanted to help. The bottom line is that I love her and I know I would do anything to find her. Don't you think I wouldn't feel that as strongly as I do if we weren't somehow connected?"

Tooth offered a small smile. "I suppose…" she allowed, though she lacked conviction.

The subject quickly changed when North urgently broke into their low conversation with concern etched on his face. "Val, where has Pitch gone?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted with a troubled frown.

Coincidentally that was a question she was trying to answer, herself. With her old room off limits until further notice, the chances of Pitch still being within North's realm were slim at best. Especially when he'd been so disgruntled by the Moon's unexpected invitation. She couldn't blame him for wanting to leave; Her own indignation at Manny's audacious mind game was significant to say the least. But if he'd retreated to the confines of the shadow realm, she was not confident she would be able to follow him there. She knew he would be okay (someone like Pitch just needed time to simmer down), but he had still been distressed by the ordeal and she didn't want to let him work through that alone. Moon knew he'd had enough centuries of solitude.

"There is something he needs to-"

"I'm going to find him," she decided on a sigh, not hearing what North was trying to tell her. Her own concerns were drowning out the ones attempting to be voiced by the Russian, and she immediately turned to Tooth for assistance. "Can you teleport me to the shadow realm," she asked, ignoring the dangers that the nightmare sand-riddled labyrinth might pose. "It would take me too long to fly there, even if I was as fast as you."

Tooth tilted her head, unsure. "Uh, possibly… but-"

"Wait, not yet. I want to check that he's not still here first." She shifted on her feet, unsure of which direction to begin. Bunny, despite his powerful sense of smell, wouldn't dream of helping her if it had anything to do with Pitch. Even now he was aiming a look at her to not get her hopes up as he worked the eggnog bottle cap and pried it open. "If only there was something that could…" Her voice trailed off as the seed of an idea planted itself in her mind. Perhaps there was a chance she didn't need the rabbit's nose to help sniff the Boogeyman out after all.

"Cupid."

A simple verbal command had the vaporous little pink puff (a creature none of the Guardians were yet to deduce of what it was made) appear in the cup of her hands.

"Cupid, do you know where Pitch is," she asked as the cloud blinked hazily formed eyes at her.

Valentina held her breath. She couldn't fathom how it had taken her this long to even think of this, but at this stage the point of her deductive short comings was moot. If her theory was correct, not only did it mean that Cupid would have no trouble gravitating towards the fear spirit, it would be the closest to a confirmation of their hopes they would likely ever get.

"Val…" North tried to interject once more, only he was completely ignored by the love spirit in her sudden case of tunnel vision.

Slowly, as though awakening from sleep, Cupid seemed to comprehend what Valentina was asking, and upon hearing Pitch's name the wispy cloud sparked with a magnetic energy. That spark told her at least part of what she wanted to know: Pitch was no longer within the Guardian of Wonder's realm.

"He's not here," she relayed to the others, who exchanged uncertain glances.

"Has he gone back to his lair?" signed Sandy.

"Possibly. I don't know. Cupid can sense him somewhere, but it's not here. I wouldn't be surprised if he went home." With a deft wave of her hand, the fragment disappeared in one smooth motion. "Tooth, I'm ready. I'd like to leave now, if that suits you."

"Valentina!"

The named spirit was startled to attention by the cossack's shout and was speechless for a moment before it even occurred to her that he'd been trying to get her attention this whole time.

"Number one: Take snow globe, is much quicker," he insisted, ignoring Tooth's eye roll. "Number two: Before you find Pitch, there is something you must know." North then strode over to find the Book of Guardian Law, reinstalled in its rightful place upon the shelves lining the fireplace wall. The heavy volume was slid out of position and opened in the crook of one burly arm. "He will not listen to me, but he does to you. So I am asking that you explain to him what Manny intended."

It had been easy enough to sneak out. In fact, leaving undetected was going to be the simplest part of Jack's self-bestowed mission by far. Of course it helped that he was naturally light on his feet, but with all eyes diverted by Pitch's formidable sandstorm, the frost sprite was relieved of any unwanted attention as he slipped through an unlocked window and summoned Wind to whisk him away.

The world passed gradually, far beneath him. Further and further from the North Pole, he traversed the frozen tundras of the arctic, which gave way to a navy ocean, that in turn relented to a patchwork of green fields and sprawling, congested cities as he crossed North America to descend into the Southern continent. Flying with the obliging assistance of Wind, he became vaguely aware of the way his stomach started to nervously churn — a strange flip-flop sensation in his gut.

It wasn't because he just so happened to be looking down.

Coasting thorough a particularly frigid air current, he couldn't help but wonder if he should have told someone, perhaps North, where he was going. If things happened to get hairy during his unexpected visit, the insurance of a bit of extra muscle might have come in handy.

Too late for that now, I guess, he shrugged helplessly to himself.

Aside from the fact that there were sensitive matters between spirits to be settled, he couldn't imagine having gotten an entirely warm reception for his brilliant idea (though the verdict was still out on just how brilliant it was going to be). He was on his own, and it was probably better that way. The plan was to get in and get out with as little interference as possible. He actually sounded a chuckle to himself at his nagging sense of deja vu. In quieting it, he promised himself this would not end in disaster like the last time he'd tried to confront a powerful spirit solo.

Travelling further South, the air became warmer. Uncomfortably so for the winter sprite. He fought the urge to ditch his hoodie since he wouldn't have to deal with the sticky climate for too much longer — The Amazon Rainforest spreading out before him in a vast blanket of shimmering green was a good indication of that.

He was decreasing altitude now and a sheen of sweat began to bead on his forehead. Almost there… In the distance a magnificent tree to dwarf all the rest rose above the lush canopy and he called upon Wind to propel him forth with the speed of a bullet. Less than five minutes later, without hesitation, Jack flung himself into its mesh of twisting leaves and limbs, dodging the obstacles with practiced ease. Upon reaching the tree's centre, he found his entrance comprised of its very trunk, hollowed out like a pipeline. He flew straight into and through it.

Emerging on the other side was always a disorienting experience, but once he was used to the unprecedented brightness of this place, it was truly breathtaking to behold. The underground forest spread radially from beneath the opening of the tree portal, and enormous roots snaked intricately across the packed earth 'ceiling' high above, adorned with ivy and vines that draped into the canopy below. For as far as the roots reached so did the realm, and it stretched on for a distance that was virtually undeterminable — for this was certainly no ordinary tree. Plant life of every variety populated the forest floor; Pines, eucalypts, birds of paradise, ferns, willows, and countless others grew in abundance, complimented by moss that clung to the surfaces of every boulder and trunk. It was this flora from which the dazzling light appeared to radiate, as though a strange magic pulsated within each and every chloroplast. All this converged on a clearing just below the realm's entrance, basked in the sunlight that filtered down from above, with a ground of both crystal clear water and dark earth that spiralled to a central focal point.

It was here that Jack's feet touched ground for the first time since his departure. Looking around the clearing, he tried to spot his hostess. Being reclusive, she never made it easy on him, but fortunately today she was going to cut their ritual fruitless game of 'I-spy' short.

"Master Frost."

To his right a pair of hazel eyes peered at his own cerulean ones from out of the depths of the rich foliage, and from their shade emerged a young woman. She appeared hardly older than Jack himself, yet with her dignified air one would be correct in assuming her age far exceeded his own. Raven black hair tumbled in careless waves down her back, blowing in a breeze that only she could feel. Her dress and cloak were textured as though the material were borrowed from the undergrowth, with ornate patterns of ivy that clung to her bodice and reached all the way down the lengths of her billowing skirt. As she approached, Jack warily sensed the raw power this spirit exuded.

"Mother Nature," he greeted with a more conservative version of his trademark impish grin. "Long time no see."

She arched a perfectly sculpted brow at him while the faintest hint of a smirk touched her mouth. "If only." A sharp breath escaped her lips that was (not quite) a laugh. "I admit I am surprised to see you here so soon after our last encounter. What brings you? Has Wind not been treating you well?"

"Oh no," Jack replied hurriedly, "Wind's been great, mostly. I mean there was a while where I couldn't call on her properly; Belief in the Guardians took a bit of a hit after the Nightmares got loose. But things are getting better… for the most part."

Mother Nature drifted to the edge of the clearing, tending to a wilting flower and coaxing forth the nutrients it needed from the soil. "So you told me during your last visit," she reminded him.

"…Did I? Oh, right." He was becoming flustered and fiddled the cord of his hoodie. He had to remind himself not to tug it out entirely, otherwise he'd have to re-thread it, and that would be a pain…

"Is there something I can help you with, Frost," she asked with an impatient inflection that startled him out of his resolve. "You know I have no qualms over you dropping in unannounced, but I do not like to have my time wasted."

Jack swallowed thickly under her cold gaze and suppressed a shiver. She was so like her father in knowing how to command attention that he wanted to slap himself for not seeing the resemblance earlier. "Yeah, actually. There is." He stalled momentarily, biting his lip. "I'd like to know why you wanted me to get Pitch Black away from the North Pole." He watched carefully for her reaction to the Nightmare King's name, and tellingly, Mother Nature's eyes narrowed while her brow drew together in a frown.

"I made myself perfectly clear I wished to see him, but apart from that it's nothing you need concern yourself with," she retorted on a slight growl. "You did your job, you've served me well, there's no need for us to speak of it again." Then, with the faintest swish of her skirt, she stepped over the threshold of the clearing to enter the dense thicket, which parted to admit her before gradually closing up. Jack wasted no time in following her before she completely vanished from sight.

"I think there is," he insisted after her, bounding deftly over wayward logs and sidestepping shrubs. "I was happy to do you a favour no questions asked, but when I got back I found out he and another spirit were attacked at the North Pole. So I want to know if you actually saw him like you said."

Nature halted her gait and turned to look him square in the face. "If you must know, yes I did see him." She tilted her head with an icy smile. "Do you take me for a liar, Frost?"

He faltered at her blunt and undoubtedly serious question. "No, I… I don't — Wait, you did?" he stuttered most eloquently.

"In Paris' Luxemborg Gardens," she revealed stiffly. "Indeed, I saw him."

"…But he didn't see you."

She snorted. "You always were the brightest of the seasonal spirits," she drawled with bored affect.

Ignoring her backhanded compliment, he continued his interrogation. "I don't understand. You wanted him out; There he was. Why not confront him there? Why did you wait until he was back at the North Pole?"

She averted her eyes and her jaw set tightly. "Plans change, Jack," was all she imparted to him. Suddenly her gaze flickered back to him and she hardened her resolve. "I won't speak of this anymore. Thank you for your service, but you are hereby dismissed." Once again she turned on her heel and strode away from him, her retreating figure rapidly camouflaging into the green. This was shaping up to be a very short visit.

"Hey. Hey wait!" He bolted after her, the vegetation surrounding him receiving a blanket of snow in his wake. "Mother - Mother Nature!" She was deceivingly quick, and no matter how hard he ran, he wasn't gaining any ground. Wind might still answer to him in this place, but the forest was almost impenetrable and thus he couldn't fly. Losing sight of her fast, he gave one last ditch effort. "Emily Jane!"

The nature spirit stopped as though she'd hit an invisible wall. Jack skidded to a halt in turn, panting hard. Ever so slowly, her head roved until her furious gaze met his.

"What… did you just call me?"

She only spoke softly, but it was far more unnerving than if she had been yelling. Jack gulped, spontaneously hyper aware of the fact the he was not only underground, but trapped in a lion's den with a beast that would not hesitate to claw his eyes out, let alone one that could control every square inch of its domain. Still, he'd come too far not to get some answers.

"That's your name, isn't it," he persisted hesitantly. "That's who you were before all this; Emily Jane Pitchiner. Except you didn't want me to know because Pitch is your father."

Her enraged cry broke through the tranquil silence of the forest, and before Jack could defend himself, she commanded vines to bind his torso to the nearest trunk. In his shock, his staff fell to the ground at the base of his imprisoning tree with a dull clatter, rendering him powerless. He struggled against the constricting ties but found his efforts futile; Mother Nature was not known for her mercy.

"Wrong, frost sprite," she spat. "I never told you, or anyone, because I left that name behind a long time ago. Emily Jane was a foolish girl who hoped and waited for the saving grace of her father who never came. What found her instead was a heartless monster who only broke her spirits time and time again."

The realm darkened as clouds formed low and heavy above the tree line. Jack felt every hair on his body stand on end when a flash of lightning was followed by rumbling thunder. With each strike the electricity in the air came closer, and closer. Nature herself was the picture of a perfect storm, her hair and cloak whipping about in the gale while she remained still, completely unfazed by the chaos around her.

"Is that why you set a blizzard on him?" he yelled over the howling wind. "You want revenge because he disappointed you? You've got to hear me when I say this: The guy's torn himself to pieces over you." In this moment Jack was fully aware that he might have somehow fallen into a parallel universe, wherein he was genuinely defending the Boogeyman. But after all he'd seen from Pitch and Valentina in their heartbreak, he resolved to set past grievances aside. "He knows he screwed up and you're not making things any better by doing this to him."

"After everything I've done for you…" She shook her head at him like he was some unruly child. "I helped you control your powers when no one else lent you assistance; I offered you guidance when Tzar Lunar gave none; I allowed you to have Wind at your beck and call, and what is my thanks? You side with him and see fit to chastise me. And here I thought the Guardians and the Nightmare King were sworn enemies. I cannot back down, Frost. He knew the what the consequences of his actions would be if he interfered with the girl Katherine. I would be only too happy to relent now, but he must first discard of that wench."

"Wench…" Jack's eyes widened in both shock and understanding. "You mean Val? No, you don't understand, she's-"

"I couldn't care less if she's the Sun Goddess!" Nature roared over him with an emotive crack in the sound. "He never learns. He should never have tried to replace her! Never! She died because of him…" Her voice broke off into anguished sobs as tears tracked down her face. "…Because of me."

It took a moment of stunned surprise for Jack to comprehend that she was in fact speaking of Lady Pitchiner, and the more upset she became, the more her regal facade crumbled away to expose the distraught child beneath, who had never healed after losing her family. Ironically, when she had insisted on drowning him out, the words 'your mother' died on his lips instantly, and he could not be more thankful for his fortune. For if she'd heard him, not only would she never believe it, but it would convey an entirely different meaning that would see him ended right on the spot.

"I know you're hurt," he attempted to placate, "and I'm sorry for what happened to you. But it doesn't have to be like this. If you keep going, you're no better than Pitch ever was. For better or worse, he's the only family you've got."

"You talk of family but mine was destroyed an age ago, never to be whole again," she gritted with tears burning her eyes. "As for Pitch Black, he is little more than dirt to me."

"Nature, I promise you he's different now. I'm not gonna stand by and watch you attack him or Val again. I won't let you."

The screaming of the wind suddenly quietened. The gale on the verge of becoming a hurricane weakened until all around them was deathly still. Nature appraised Jack with an unreadable expression, but the vines binding him only grew tighter until he emitted a strangled squeak as the air was squeezed out of him.

"You won't let me," she repeated carefully, sounding the words out as if she wanted him to hear just how witless they were. "Oh, Jack… I never attacked him."

"Wha…" He was gasping for air, already feeling light headed.

"In fact, I don't think I ever could."

The churning of his stomach, which had been slowly making him nauseous for the length of this wretched visit, then intensified. His heart dropped dropped into his feet.

"Like I said: You've served me well. But it appears I'm not done with you yet, my winter sprite."

The last things he saw before his world faded to black were the broken grimace of Emily Jane, and the gnarled, fearsome creature looming behind her.