Again, I'm sorry if this or any other future chapters are late – I only get two days to write them in.

Enjoy XD

He couldn't see much, apart from a small line of light that illuminated the strange liquid in front of him. Jack crouched down and brushed it with his fingers: it was thick and warm.

"Anyone here?" The spirit called out into the semidarkness, squinting in the poor light. His voice echoed into a twisted network of caverns, but no answer was returned back.

Jack stepped forward, unintentionally placing one bare foot into the liquid; he brought it away quickly, rubbing it with the sleeve of his blue hoodie. The substance was growing colder now, making the spirit wonder what exactly it was: the scent was familiar, but the answer was blocked in his mind.

What was he doing here?

Last time he was awake, he was in the Warren with Bunny, Tooth and Sandy. What had happened since then?

The questions were quickly pushed from his mind as he studied the floor again. The liquid, from what he could tell from the weak shine of the light, was actually a trail, leading deep into one of the tunnels. Jack followed it slowly, wincing at the substance coat his feet.

Jack soon found himself crawling through a narrow tunnel, the strange liquid now running across his hands and was soaking his trousers. The tunnel ended, and the spirit was in a small cave.

"Anyone?" Jack called, slowly stepping into the cave. This time there was an answer, but not the one he was expecting.

A loud, echoing cackle surrounded him, making him shiver unpleasantly. The laugh was somehow familiar, but he couldn't place where it came from. Hesitating for a few seconds, Jack cautiously edged closer, following the unknown liquid like a lifeline, looking for answers. He wanted to know where he was, or how he got there, but he couldn't think of anything before the cave.

What was going on?

A desperate gasp, followed by strangled breathing, blocked out the laughter and Jack moved closer to the sound, slipping on the liquid.

A hunched figure was in the corner of the room, shaking in exhaustion. Squinting, the spirit stretched out his hand, extending his fingers out. His nails scraped against the fabric and the figure turned weakly, revealing a long, white beard and, once a caring, joyful face creased in pain and fear. Jack's breath hitched in his throat as the face turned to him, briefly lighting up in recognition.

"North?" Jack chocked, dropping to his knees.

North's words were blocked by the blood streaming out of his parted lips, but to the spirit they were all too clear.

"You…came…" the guardian uttered, voice cracking with emotion. Jack vision blurred, and he realised he was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks and freezing at his chin.

"Please…please don't…" The spirit whispered, grabbing North's coat. He couldn't even choke out what he was meant to say. "You have to get up!" Jack realised that his staff wasn't in his hand; he searched the ground frantically, but it wasn't in sight.

North's hand reached out for his and the spirit turned back to the guardian, his eyes threatening to spill more tears.

"I'm proud of you." North spluttered, eyes shining with what Jack thought was pride. "You managed to get here all on your own…" Jack let a sob rip from his chest, clutching the older guardian's hand tightly.

"Please…we can make it out of here! You just have to get up…" Jack looked around desperately, searching for something, anything that could help. But they were alone.

"You can come with me…we could leave this place and get you help…" another fresh wave of tears tire through him and he had to stop speaking, choking on his own grief. To his surprise, he heard North laugh quietly.

"It iz over for me, I think." The Cossack was smiling at the spirit. "But you can still leave…get…out of…here…whilst you…" The guardian was now gasping, and Jack felt the hand in his lax.

"No – please!" Jack begged, but North's eyes were glazed over, a smile forever on his face. "North!" Jack screamed, sobbing. The laughing had now returned and surrounded the spirit, mocking him.

"Oh Jack…" a voice whispered from beside his ear. It was full of amusement, but Jack kept his head bent, feeling like the world was tearing into two.

"Oh Jack…you should've got here sooner…"

The cave seemed to shatter before the spirit's eyes, falling apart like a jigsaw puzzle. Jack's eyes widened as North's body turned into a pile of black sand, before disappearing entirely.

"No!" Jack reached out, trying to grab the remains, but he was too late. He was now in what he could only place as Nowhere – everything was entirely white apart from him himself.

Jack began to hyperventilate, clutching his chest tightly as he bent towards the blank floor, digging his fingers tightly into the blue fabric of his hoodie.

"North…North…" he mumbled repeatedly, hugging himself. The lack of air was finally getting to him: his vision was clouding over, blackening at the edges. His mind was growing weaker.

"You should've got here sooner…" the voice was back, louder. "If you had gotten here sooner, maybe he would have lived…"

—

Jack sat up quickly, clutching his chest. Gasping, he looked around in confusion; the white wasn't surrounding him anymore – instead, there were trees and grass and flowers and streams and –

Jack's gaze fell onto the three sleeping guardians next to him. Beside them, his horse lay, breathing rhythmically. He was also asleep, twitching his foot slightly.

So it was a dream. He was in the Warren with his friends, safe.

But not everyone is here.

But what if that dream wasn't a dream? What if it was a warning? Jack stood up, unable to go back to sleep though his body ached, and paced a few metres away from where the others were sleeping.

"North…" Jack muttered, biting his lip. The spirit felt like he needed the Cossack right now; usually, the guardian would make him a hot chocolate at this point, and sit down with him. Then they would talk – usually it was about random, silly thing: now the spirit needed that more than ever.

But why would Pitch (because who else could it be) send a warning to him in his dreams? It didn't make sense – but then, when did Pitch's plans ever make sense? Jack growled in frustration, running a hand through his hair. He stopped pacing, and instead looked at the moon that seemed to be shining on him, illuminating the armour he was wearing.

"What do I do now?" Jack asked the orb, wringing his hands. "What should I do? I don't know whether that was a dream or not…I don't know if it is a trap, but I don't want North to die…I don't know what I should do!" The last plea ended with a yell, and the spirit quickly looked over at the sleeping group, afraid he had disturbed them. Bunny twitched his ear, however no one else moved. Sighing, Jack looked back at the moon, eyes round and desperate.

"Please. Tell me something!" He whispered, gripping his sword tighter. The moon didn't answer, however, and kept staring at him.

"Thanks for the help." The spirit muttered, jumping off the rock in one swift leap. In that moment, as he briefly soared through the air, he had made his decision.

He was going to find North now.

It didn't matter whether it was a trap – the dream felt too real, and it reminded the spirit the lives at stake. And if his life was going to be lost but North was safe, he would gladly accept his fate.

Jack felt in his pocket. There were still two snow globes left – one to get there and one to get back. The spirit looked over at Raven, feeling a pang of guilt; the stallion looked so peaceful in his sleep, and it would be hard to wake him.

"I won't take him." Jack muttered, pulling out a snow-globe. "I can't risk any other lives."

The snow globe shattered on the ground, creating a portal leading to the unknown. Just as he leapt inside, Jack swore he heard the moon sigh sadly.

But whenever had he made the moon happy?

;)