Enjoy!

The day hadn't been great, in short. Most of the days he'd experienced in three hundred years hadn't been great, but now that he had the guardians, he thought they would all be good days instead of bad days. Of course, in hindsight, Jack realised that it would be extremely lucky if he experienced good days for the rest of his life with the other guardians; the logical thought didn't help, though, as he felt the wind rake his hair in comfort.

There had been a blizzard, not too far from where he was now. He never meant for it to spiral out of control – honestly – but with all of the new believers he was gaining, his power had increased noticeably to the point where it felt like he was a young spirit again, learning how to fly.

The blizzard fed on Jack's panic and quickly grew larger and more destructive until it reached a small town. The town never stood a chance with its cheap houses and old buildings, and soon was torn apart in the fierce winds. Jack tried, really tried to calm the storm but he seemed to only make it worse. He gave up, and watched helplessly as people were buried by thick snow. Children were calling for their parents, parents were calling for their children – Jack shuddered just thinking about it.

He couldn't be a guardian anymore.

Guardians didn't kill children, and that was what he had just done. Not one child, but probably more. All because he didn't know how to control himself.

Jack let a fresh wail rip from his throat, hugging himself tighter. Images of broken bodies flashed through his mind, causing another wall of misery release itself from his body. There were no tears – Jack had none left to give – but pure grief and guilt made itself known through raw sobs and cries from deep inside himself.

Jack screamed into the night air, burying his head in his knees. His nails dug into his legs and he began to shiver, drawing in shaky gasps.

Had the other guardians found out by now?

Of course they did. So many believers disappearing from the globe at once was sure to draw attention. What were they thinking now? Were they disappointed? Or had they known this would happen, and it was just a matter of time?

Were they on there way now, ready to remove his guardianship?! Probably.

As much as he hated to admit it, he had enjoyed being a guardian. Who would he be now?

Footsteps were moving towards him. They were coming now. They were going to shout at him, call him a murderer…

A arm suddenly wrapped itself around his shoulders, gripping him tightly. Jack didn't look up, trying to control his breathing. Were they going to take him back to the Pole? Throw him in a sack again? Jack tucked himself in more, drawing in his knees against his chest.

The arm around his shoulders didn't tug him away, however – it firmly pressed his body against another. Jack looked up blearily and saw that North was holding him, looking down at him with pitiful eyes.

Not pitiful. Forgiving.

Suddenly, a collection of feathers, fur and sand surrounded the spirit, and he could feel their warmth spreading throughout his body. All of them were sitting beside him, supporting him. And Jack had never experienced that before.

And slowly, he realised that he liked the feeling.

Unashamed, Jack began to cry, feeling the familiar tears freeze on his cheeks. The other guardians pressed closer to him: North squeezing his shoulders, Tooth holding his hand, Bunny leaning on his side and Sandy in front of him, smiling supportively. Jack just closed his eyes and uncurled himself from the ball he was used to, letting himself relax in their embrace.

He finally knew what it felt like to have someone always standing beside him, to forgive him, to understand him.

It was called Love.

And Jack found that he liked being loved. He liked it a lot.

—

The memory seemed to flash to the surface of Jack's mind, unexpected. But not forgotten.

Now, as he almost certainly jumping to his death, it seemed to explode from his mind for reasons unknown.

The Nightmare King's eyes narrowed dangerously, his mouth twisted in a snarl, and he raised his blade above his head; Jack copied him, thrusting his sword out in front of him.

The two immortals clashed in a flurry of snowflakes and sand, their auras twisting into another. As the two spirits touched, the ground beneath them split, sending stones flying in random directions. Their two weapons of choice smashed into another, the snowflakes cleared, showing the faces of the fighters.

Pitch Black's face was a mixture of rage and cruelty, his eyes flashing in the half light.

Jack Frost was smiling slightly, determined to win. His eyes were also glowing a crystal blue and the light hid his pupils entirely, unlike the Boogeyman. Both spirits were panting heavily, clutching their weapons tightly with both hands.

With an outraged yell, Pitch was the first to move from the freeze frame, swinging his blade underneath Jack quickly, dancing out of range of his opponents weapon.

Jack stumbled forward and quickly jumped over Pitch's low attack; growling, he tried to slice the Boogeyman's back but missed, landing on the ground lightly.

"Stop trying, Frost!" Pitch taunted, swinging his blade again – Jack narrowly dodged the attack, sliding under the Nightmare King's legs. Cartwheeling to the side, the spirit lunged forward again and this time successfully hit his opponent on the shoulder. Pitch hissed and kicked the winter spirit backwards before lunging himself. He missed Jack by inches, only because the wind had knocked his aim. The blade dig deep into the ground, creating more cracks in the rock.

"You really think you can stop me now?" Jack asked, laughter edging in his voice. He rolled out from under the Boogeyman and sprang to his feet again, only to duck as a sharp edge almost slit his throat. "Sorry, that won't work."

The two immortal's charged forward again but Pitch, expecting this attack, sent a wave nightmare sand at Jack. The force of the blast shook the entire cave and sent the spirit through the stone wall and into a different chamber.

Buzzing filled Jack's brain, and pain erupted from every limb in his body. His sword was still tightly in his hand, but buried under rubble. Dizzily, the spirit looked up and saw Pitch striding towards him, spinning his blade in his hand. Dimly, he reminded himself to never spin his staff in the same way again – it was extremely annoying. Jack tried to stand, but the amount of rubble littered on him combined with the pain invading his body, he could only manage to prop himself up on his arms.

Long, grey fingers wrapped themselves around his throat and lifted him effortlessly off the ground until his face was level with their owner's thin smile and yellow eyes that flashed with amusement. Pitch said something else, but the buzzing still hadn't left Jack's ears and his vision was too blurred to read his lips. As the lack of air was finally pulling him to unconsciousness, the spirit looked over to where the fight had been – now it was just a pile of rubble, and in the centre there still was a smaller opening in the rock.

North!

Jack desperately searched for any sign of the guardian, but the dust didn't give anything away.

He can't be, not after all this…no, no

"No!" Jack created the ice-claws on his nails, longer and sharper this time, and scratched the Nightmare King's face until he was forced to release his grip on the spirit. Jack instantly jumped to his feet; his sword now a staff once more, he blasted Pitch with a flurry of ice and frost. Yelling, the spirit then mercilessly flew towards the Boogeyman and hit his staff into his side, creating a loud cracking sound each time. Each hit stabbed frost into his opponent's side, and a black liquid began to ooze from each wound.

Pitch, recovering from his shock, blocked the attack with a shield of sand before throwing the spirit backwards again. The shield turned into a collection of sharp icicles that were sent towards the younger immortal; Jack ducked to the ground, sending a stream of frost to freeze the Boogeyman in place.

Pitch, panting, turned the trail of ice into sand, and used it as a whip, slashing the spirit on the chest. Just as his attack ended, he was hit with a face full of ice, blinding him for a few valuable seconds.

Jack flew to the air again, wincing at the new wound that streaked down his chest, and hooked the Boogeyman around the neck, dragging him to the floor. His head made a loud crack as it hit the ground, which caused a smile to twitch on the spirit's lips. Pitch lay unmoving in front of him covered in frost.

Breathlessly, Jack held out his sword in front of him, arms shaking out of exhaustion.

I've done it…I actually won.

All he needed to do now was to stab the Nightmare King, ridding him from this word for a few decades at least.

Jack shot forward, raising his newly formed sword above him, aiming for the chest where his heart should've been. He figured that, as great as his staff was, he would need something sharper, something more damaging to kill Pitch Black.

The feather brushed against his cheek and the egg rattled comfortingly in his pocket. This was the end. He thrust the sword in front of him, powering it with everything he had…

Pitch's eyes snapped open.

Jack wanted to stop, but it was too late. He watched in slow-motion as the Nightmare King grinned and effortlessly stood upright. He watched as he held his blade high into the air.

No!

The blade hit its target. Pitch laughed.

Jack screamed.

Blood filled his mouth and leaked through his surprised gasp, dripping steadily onto the stone below him. A pain seemed to burn though his entire body, making the spirit scream over and over again, tears pricking in his eyes. He looked down and saw that the blade had stabbed through his upper torso and his blood was now streaming down the weapon and onto the grey fingers of Pitch.

Pitch Black eyes were gleaming triumphantly, and his smile was wide and gleaming.

No…this can't be happening again! No!

But it was. His vision was growing blurred and his breaths were failing him.

"I guess Santa won't be delivering Christmas presents ever again, will he?" Pitch's voice tainted as his consciousness faded. The pain was consuming him, blocking all of his senses. But somehow his words echoed around his mind, loud and clear.

"No Easter Bunny, no Tooth Fairy, no Sandman…" Jack coughed, blood dripping from his mouth. Pitch's voice faded from his ears. "And no Jack Frost."

"N-no…" Jack whispered, clutching his sword. He felt Pitch's icy gaze pierce into him.

"What do you mean, no?" Pitch laughed. "You have no choice! You are finished!"

Not yet.

"D-do y-ou want a-a t-t-tip?" Jack coughed again, feeling the pain intensify each passing second. Only a little longer…he needed only a few more seconds.

He didn't hear Pitch's answer. It didn't matter.

"A-aim f-for t-the head…" Jack's whisper was more of a gasp, and the Boogeyman wasn't sure he heard right. In the confusion, the spirit raised the sword using the last of his strength.

Pitch let out a screech as the sharp blade made contact with his skull, dropping the spirit. For a few seconds the Boogeyman was frozen before, with another shriek that was more inhuman than the last, burst into a mixture of frost, and soon after all his nightmare sand did too.

It worked… Jack could feel the blood from his wound leaking faster now with no blade to halt it. It was a miracle he was still alive. I…

The spirit's thoughts trailed into nothingness, his mind no longer able to function. He watched his blood form a steady path along the stone ground until his eyes grew hollow and glazed.

…