Summary: Slightly AU, set somewhat if in the middle of the movie, it took a different turn. Mentions of Dark!Jack. And a much more evil Pitch.

20 years since the world was taken by Fear, a girl was murdered. The Man In The Moon took this as an opportunity to create another sprite by reviving her, but along the way she disappeared.

Shadow is a sprite of the night without a cause, and like the Boogeyman and Jack Frost, is not able to be seen by others. For years of being on her own, her somewhat peace is suddenly disturbed when she is called (but actually taken) to the North Pole, told that the MiM wanted her to help The Guardians defeat the 2 who have put their very existence in jeopardy: the two called Cold and Dark. But what if she doesn't exactly cooperate, not wanting to be a part of the Kiddie Patrol, as she puts it, being more defiant to the situation than Jack was? Plus, when she doesn't even know who or whatexactly she is?

But there is more to her than meets the eye—why does she call herself Shadow when MiM describes everything about her as "Light"?

*Jack/OC
Tooth/Jack
Maybe Tooth/Bunny

T for language and mentions of death. May be rated M later for future mature content and maybe graphic writing.

A/N: In this version, Jamie was not the first child to see Jack. Centuries before him was another little boy.

The songs that I suggest to listen to each chapter are ones I thought went nicely with each chapter, or to help describe the chapter and characters.

Listen to: "never let this go" by Paramore

Ch1:Rendezvous

ˈrändəˌvo͞o/ˈrändāˌvo͞o | (noun) 1. a meeting at an agreed time and place, typically between two people.

Burgess was a small town. It was not easily noticed by some; you could easily pass right thru it on the highway if you did not pay enough attention. But to others, it was just what it seemed—a peaceful, calm town—that many of its residents loved.

Even though it had not always been like that, as one in particular can remember—the days when it was nothing but forests and fresh air...

Jack Frost twisted and turned at the wind's will. He was making his usual rounds at the last trickle of frost during the end of winter, early spring.

He was currently sitting atop a light post. The sky was a brilliant multitude of lavender, indigo and gold of a sunset—a sight that would have many staring in awe.

Jack sneered.

He was crouched over his knees, hands resting in his jacket pocket, and signature staff could be seen poking out from between his crossed arms. His hood obscured the view of his face. He had been staring at the streets of people for who-knows-how-long; there were quite many outside despite it snowing.

Was he upset? Angry?

Was he just bored, at the soon coming of the warm seasons?

He didn't even know.

He was a little disappointed, he could say. There were two reasons of his feeling of being bothered. For one: he wanted more snow. He wanted a blizzard, a snow warning that would keep them in their homes, freezing under their blankets.

But he knew he couldn't do too much. Not here, at least—it would "disrupt the balance of nature." And he didn't want a pissy Mother Nature coming after him again, especially after what happened last time. (He had decided he wanted the best of both worlds of the beaches of Florida's Orlando and winter weather in the middle of a blazing springtime. Let's just say that it hasn't snowed there since; and when those cartoons show the characters turning black after being struck with lightening, they are not exaggerating.)

The second reason would be that he would be coming back to Pitch's empty handed. No, he hasn't done anything too terrible, but he just didn't feel like putting up with Pitch's aggravating yammering on the fact.

And yes Pitch. Pitch Black.

Jack Frost is in cahoots with the Nightmare King.

Oh, no, Jack is no "guardian," as old Saint Nick had wanted him to be. No, he knew that the "Man in the Moon" had stripped any such title from his name.

He resisted to look up as earth's annoying orbiting satellite as he peaked his head higher into the sky for the approaching nighttime. Twirling his staff, he summoned another more couple feet of snow. Then decided against it to created hail.

His eyes scanned the passing crowds until falling upon a small group of children. He decided they didn't look too young, maybe around nine, eleven at the most.

He didn't need to make a graceful landing, as he knew they couldn't see him regardless. Their conversation wasn't exactly hushed and his interest grew catching words of "scared," "cursed," and "I don't know."

Their voices paused abruptly as they pulled jackets and hats closer as a gust of frigid wind blew past.

"All I'm saying is that I kinda doubt that," a curly haired girl stuttered thru chatters of teeth. "There's no proof."

A boy who seemed to be the center of attention turned to her, bewildered. Jack has seen his expression before—a person who was honestly spooked.

"What other proof do you need?!" he questioned. "It was there when I looked and when I turned around it was gone!"

"Well, some solid evidence would be nice," the girl commented. Jack noticed a spot-like mole stood out near her left eye on her light coffee-colored skin.

"I told you—there was something like a shadow that, like, ran out the room too!"

Now Jack was definitely interested. "A vanishing shadow, hm?" He spoke to himself.

"And don't say that it was a trick of the light," the boy added. "I know it wasn't."

"Oooooo, you know what they say 'bout stuff like that," another girl chimed in. She appeared to be the youngest of the group. "Your house might be...you know..."

"Haunted?" Jack finished with a smirk to what she was too afraid to say. This is exactly what he needed, what would get Pitch off his back.

The boy glared at her. "No it's not! You don't know anything!"

"Yes I do!" Her voice was a high pitch due to her young age. "Leave me alone," she defended herself.

The two began bickering, the remaining children soon chiming in. Jack chuckled, commenting at how naïve they were before flitting off with the wind, and carried him half way around the world.

One too many times he asked himself why he insists on coming back to this boring town. And each time, his mind could never produce an answer. When he constantly traveled the world or was underground with Pitch, he always found himself finding time to come and visit it, and now, one person in particular. Just as he was doing now.

Jack landed on the roof with a soft 'THUD!' And he knew that right away, a little kid had instantly sat upright somewhere inside. The roof was a nice smoky red color. Or, it would have been if it was visible under all the snow he had caused.

The thought made a smirk cross his face.

Frost marked his footsteps as he trailed along the windowsills of the two-story home until he came to a room filled with spaceships and artificial stars.

With a wave of his staff, the window blew up with a gust of wind and he stepped inside, not bothering to knock.

He grumbled at the sudden heat; the room was dark, he found out, and was immediately blinded. Jack stiffened immediately as a force grabbed him thru the dark, catching him off guard. Rage quickly replaced the shock and his immediate reaction was to grab at his attacker's throat, but he froze instead, hearing a familiar voice.

Erik buried his face into Jack's stomach, shivering at the sprite's freezing body temperature. "What took you so long?" His voice muffled.

Jack patted his head. "What do you think? I had some business to take care of, kid." He didn't even smirk at Erik's joy. It's been a long time since he's been...

Jack turned his attention out the window. Water was beginning to pool along the sill due to the snow that fell from the open window. He once again asked himself what good was it to come here every autumn, winter and spring, year after year? He didn't need this. He could give the young boy hypothermia and not think twice about it.

But then again, Erik has been the first to see him in centuries since his myth began.

He knew that if he had at least one child that was able to see him, then maybe he would not end up completely delusional—he didn't want to become the next Old Man Trouble.

The sound of a sob broke his train of thought. "Hey, what's up kiddo?" Jack looked down at the young Ukrainian boy.

The smaller boy shook his head and Jack realized he was sobbing uncontrollably. "Y-you just d-don't know, Jack." He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Things have been getting a lot worst since last time."

Jack cocked his head. " "Since when" what?"

"Since 'bout last April," he sobbed. Erik backed away and sat on his bed. He squinted his eyes as he looked up at the tall sprite. He still had his hood on and knew it was impossible to see his face in this little light.

"Have you heard of the Shadow Creeper?" He gazed intently at the older boy.

"Uh, no~"

Erik sighed.

"Why don't you tell me a lil' bit 'bout him."

"Jack, it's not a "him," it's an "it," " he corrected. The sprite put his hands up defensively. "It was a tale that was going 'round school once. Now...not so much a tale... They saw that it doesn't matter if it's day or nighttime, whenever there're shadows, the Shadow Creeper is able to come. Especially is there're corners.

"There have been rumors of stuff moving from where you left it or even disappearing," Erik continued. "And then some people say that they see, like, someone leaving at like the corner of their eye but when they look it's nothing there." He then shivered. Jack could feel the once-toasty air quickly seeping out the window. "Jack, it's really scary; lots of people at school are starting to think this place is haunted."

Jack resisted the urge to laugh and mused this over in his head. The kid was totally over-exaggerating, he thought. "Well, has anyone even seen this 'Shadow Creeper'?"

"No! Their scared to! Saying that it will suck out your soul if you try—-o-r you will die or turn to stone or go blind or something like that." He then stared at him. "Do you think you could do anything?"

'Yeah, I can do something about it,' Jack thought a little sarcastically. He could have sworn he growled.

"Erik, I'm not a Guardian."

"Y-yeah...but still..." Erik stared up into the dark shadows of his hood, trying to think of an excuse. His eyes grew wide at suddenly hearing Jack chuckle.

Jack shoved the child aside effortlessly before proceeding back outside, clenching his staff tighter. It looked like the beginning of a storm and he was determined to cause a few blizzards if he could.

"Where are you going?!"

Jack sighed; he knew this would come. "Out." Jack did not turn around; Erik's face was probably scrunched up at the start of tears for all he knew. And frankly, he didn't quite care.

"B-but you can't leave!"

He turned quickly, rearing in the boy's face. "And give me one good reason why I shouldn't, pipsqueak!?"

Erik froze momentarily before squeaking, "I'm scared..."

"Well that's not my problem," he muttered, turning back to the snow. To be honest, he was interested in this Shadow Walker-whoever-it-was. The thought was like getting ready for a hunt a large game.

"JACK! PLEASE!" Erik threw himself around the sprite's torso. "IT MIGHT GET ME!"

"Kid, let go!" The child was already frightened, so there was no more use staying. Attacking him would only make him want to stop believing in Jack and maybe Pitch, even as he pulled on Jack's sweater.

The struggle lasted for mere seconds. Though when Erik tugged at his jacket too forcefully, to Jack, his reaction happened in slow motion. He could see the boy freeze in shock, his eyes growing wide until all the white was shown. His mouth drop open in a silent gasp of fear and surprise. Him taking steps back and Jack's sweater dropping from his hands. The hood sliding off his face.

This person in front of him was not the Jack Frost that Erik remembered on that snow day. The guy who was always smiling, who didn't stop playing even after he and his friends had to go inside for supper. Who drew pictures of frost on his window and played silent games while his parents were still awake.

No, this Jack—if it was the same—was someone more dark and...some other word meaning evil that he had heard his mother say. This Jack was even meaner than the bullies at school; he knew.

The room was silent for minutes, the two just staring at each other.

Erik took several slow steps backwards.

"Hey, kid. Why do ya look so scared for?" is what Jack was going to say, but his tongue couldn't find the words; it's been some time since his head had been fully exposed like this. He frowned instead.

"Y-you...you've changed..." The look for fear was very clear on little Erik's face. He pointed at Jack's face.

His hair had remained messy, as well as the rest of him. Jack's eyes were wide in shock, no longer a bright electric blue, but had dulled to no emotion. His pupils smaller and his eyes slanted, erasing the look of happiness and innocence. Erik could see the points Jack's ears have begun to grow into, and the graying tint of his fingernails that squeezed around his staff. Jack's mouth hug open in what was going to be a scolding, this giving Erik a clear view of his now pointed teeth.

He reminded Erik of a monster, not a fun-loving winter sprite.

Jack glanced across the room at Erik's mirror he just noticed. He too was taken aback. He didn't know how long he had been underground with Pitch, but surely not enough time for him to change like this, right, he thought.

Immediately Erik screamed.

Jack had flown away in the wind long before his mother came rushing into the bedroom to the terrified boy.

*~.*~.~*

The stars were just beginning to shine. Few cars brewed driving and faint chirping of crickets filled the air. Snow began to fall gently on the sleepy city, the winds whipping up anything that wasn't held down. The moon shone bright and full on the world below.

The night was late. Little to no one was outside.

She smiled to herself. This time was perfect; she knew exactly what she was going to do.

Earlier that day, she had the pleasure of helping herself to a batch of piping hot brownies and watching a group of children wet their pants seeing her appear from nowhere sitting on the couch near them.

And now that she thought about it, the idea of another round of pastries didn't sound too bad. She just hoped she could get them out the house before the mother or father saw...again.

The rooftops were bare for only her to use, jumping from one to the next. The air was clear and crisp; a thought flickered across her mind about the odd weather for the middle of early spring.

The murmur of a television could be heard far off. She leaned over the edge of the roof and peered inside, looking for the source, for people—nothing; there was only the faint flickering of light from another room.

Anyone who would be alarmed to see the figure soaring from building to building. But the only part is that no one could see. She had found that out the day the Moon awoke her. But she preferred it that way—to not deal with any bothersomes, no issues.

The night was hers.

But, unfortunately, it did not last long.

Long tendrils of golden light shattered the darkness, spiraling down from the sky. She watched in annoyance as they crept into many, if not all, the houses and homes below. A smile broke out across her face as it dawned on her who had come to pay her a visit.

But maybe, it wasn't exactly a bad thing.

As a stream of sand descended next to her aiming for the apartment beside her, she reached out and touched it, watching in awe as animals formed from the magical sand, twisting and turning about her. She looked up to see a giant golden cloud and many more strings of sands receding and descending from it. Her staring was cut short when one long band of sand wrapped around her waist, creeping up to her like a snake, and pulled her into the sky.

She gasped; he was finally going to allow her to be atop his cloud. Never had she known of The Sandman to let anyone so much as touch his dreamsand-cloud, no one that he didn't trust. But then again, there weren't many that were pure enough to feel its power, as she'd been told. Though she herself wouldn't consider herself exactly "pure."

Despite her ability, she let out a shrill cry when she was suddenly hoisted into the air, then plopped down on the golden cloud. Before, she and the Sandman had never had a confrontation, but not quite as close contact as this. She stood still, her legs still crossed, not wanting to disturb him and then sent falling thru the cloud and to the ground.

The Sandman made no move that he acknowledged her presence. And for a moment more she watched him from behind, silently commanding his orchestra.

She still hasn't gotten over how short he was.

After sometime of quiet, she went to swinging her legs over the edge and turning her attention to the town below; the bright city lights danced with the moonlight. She watched the many golden streams sneak into homes, giving the residents dreams and its surroundings a soothing warm golden glow. The dreamy sounds of the night...

She was soon joined when she felt Sandy sit beside her, the cloud momentarily dipped from the weight. She didn't need to look up to know that he was done for the night. They wouldn't have much time now, she knew he was tired. He was always tired.

But despite the fact, she couldn't say too much to ruin the few moments they did share. She laid her head on his shoulder—and had to bend down much lower because of their height difference. Sandy patted her head affectionately; the gesture alone caused warmth and sleepiness to spread thru her. Tonight, they were not going to talk—well, she talk and he make charades out of sand.

After centuries of solitude, it was comforting to have someone that you could call a friend.

And someone that could see you.