Pitch and Frost had taken to sitting in Pitch's hole for the past couple of days. Pitch always sauntered around while Jack floated, usually with his arms crossed, next to the globe, watching for any light that would flicker back on for any reason whatsoever. Then he would go snuff it out.

Pitch had been questioning lately if something was wrong with his little Winter boy. Of course he was a little bit darker than what he was with the Guardians, but since joining Pitch he seemed to have lost most of his original personality. What made him Jack Frost. He was always work and no play now, and it was making Jack more of a devil than Pitch.

"Jack." Pitch started from somewhere in the shadows. "Why don't we go out and have some fun, hm? We could go poke fun at the Guardians. Throw rocks at the moon?"

The latter was a little silly, but it was the meaning of it that made the task fun. Jack waved a hand at Pitch as if to say 'bug off' and continued to circle the globe.

"Oh come on, Jack. Ever since we've, well, been together you've been all anger and business. Where'd the fun go?" Pitch had been moving in circles, gesturing to Jack as he said the latter.

"Well gee I don't know Pitch." Jack started up sarcastically, tilting his head at the man. "Didn't know fun and happiness was part of this job description. In fact, seems a little absurd if you ask me."

"Well it does make lots of sense when you say it that way." Pitch folded his hands together. "But I miss the old you. You were lively and fun to mess with and now your so..." he held out his palms at the boy, who turned back towards the globe.

"So what do you want to do Pitch? Hm? I'm all ears." Jack swung his staff-scythe around, making little snowflakes fall in front of him.

"Oh..." Pitch started. "Didn't think you were gonna budge. Let's check out the North Pole. I'm curious as to what the workshop looks like..." he swirled some sand around his palms. "...dead."

When they laid their feet on the cold ground of the workshop, Jack was pretty sure thats the only sound this place has heard for a long time. Everything around them looked as if everyone suddenly got up and just left. Literally. Toys were scattered on the ground, North's office was a wreck... But honestly, Jack was unsure where the Guardians would even be if not here.

"A little..boring." Pitch drawled out, kicking a stuffed teddy bear.

"Got that right." Jack waved his staff, covering the floor in ice.

When he did, Pitch slipped and fell. Flat on his face. Jack had forgotten the other was not so balanced.

And out of nowhere, he just laughed. It had been so long since he had laughed out of simple joy. Even Pitch had brought himself up on his elbows and was tapping a finger, waiting for the other to be done.

"I'm glad you had a nice laugh, Jack." he hissed out the Winter's name.

Jack wooshed his staff and a gust of wind picked Pitch back up who caught himself on his sand.

"Hey, you wanted fun didn't you?" Jack smiled, eyes alight with laughter.

"Not at my expense." Pitch mumbled, brushing his shoulders off.

As if he had spoken too soon, he felt something cold creeping up from underneath. Pitch looked down and his robe, and his body, was starting to frost over and become sort of white. Even his sand recoiled from the cold, and he was tossed back onto the slippery ground. He then proceeded to slip down a slope that had apparently been made when Jack frosted over the floor.

"JACK!" Pitch screamed, desperately trying to claw back up the slope, but it was too late. He was sliding.

"Awe come on Pitch! Just enjoy it!" Jack flew past the boogeyman with ease, tapping the ice to steer Pitch whichever way he wanted him to go.

Jack underestimated how close he was to the other, and in a second he was on the ice with Pitch. The other man had pulled him by his feet down to his level, and held him there. Jack couldn't steer them anymore. Pitch glared at the younger boy in defiance, but Jack stared past him and at a ledge that shot off into the mountains.

Pitch started to yell, and Jack was calm as a clam as they went soaring out of the shop, and into a huge patch of snow beneath them.

Truly no harm could really be done to them since they were immortal, but it still kind of hurts to fall forever and then into a patch of snow.

Jack hovered above while Pitch's feet were flailing out of the snow while the rest of his body was pretty buried.

Once he surfaced, "Jack! Fix my robe! And why would you like putting me in peril?"

"Old habits, I guess." Jack slid onto the snow, resting in it. He also tapped Pitch's robe, turning it back into its normal shade of black.

Jack laid there for quite some time, and Pitch preoccupied himself with staring at the moon.

Once he was bored, he turned to look at Jack. So beautifully laid against the snow. But he looked tainted. Tainted by the darkness now in his heart, making him not the pure being Pitch craved. Craved? Did he really long for Jack that way? Perhaps he didn't want him to join the darkness, but wanted to just be apart of Jack's family.

It's lonely at the top when all he had was himself and a boy that sometimes talked to him.

"Jack? Pitch?" came a voice on the wind. Both sat up at this, neither aggressive. Nothing could challenge them, realistically.

There in the wind came a figure, seemingly limping. Big. Really round, actually. It didn't take either of the two long to figure out who this mystery person was.

"North?" Pitch spoke first, surprised to see the old man way out here, away from his shop.

And boy did he look terrible. He wasn't wearing red anymore, but more or less some hand-me-down looking mountain man clothes fit only for the homeless. His face looked thin, and just all around sickly. Not to mention the cane he supported himself with.

"My my, I thought I was seeing ghosts. Wouldn't have surprised me." North held himself up barely, looking at the ground.

"Why are you out here fat man? Shouldn't you be in there?" Pitch pointed to the abandoned shop.

"Heh, if only I could. Can't even walk up that far anymore. With no one to run it, the old thing might as well be brought down. I live in an old cabin a little ways from here. I heard a commotion and figured that I oughta check it out. And here we are." he looked uneasily to Jack. "You two look...well."

"Can't say the same for you." Jack sneered, making Pitch almost flinch at the sudden wicked tone that the boy was using.

"Yeah, this is true." North wobbled on his cane, turning back to where he came.

"Wait!" Pitch shouted. "Don't you want to fight us? Beg us to stop what were doing? Do...anything?"

North turned and clasped a huge palm on Pitch's shoulder. "My friend, I am pretty tired and frankly, I am worthless. If your looking for a fight, I am afraid no one can give it to you. Not anymore." he gazed past Pitch and nodded at Jack, then went back into the fog.

Pitch watched him go, feeling a strong bit of guilt. This was not right.

"No one can challenge us."

Pitch turned to look at Jack, who was staring at his staff.

"Were too powerful, and they are too weak. The world is ours. Hehheh.." he looked back up at North's dissapearing figure, and with the raise of his hands, he pointed his staff at the workshop, and brought it down in an avalanche.

Pitch watched as it was completely overtaken by the snow, and after everything was settled, there was nothing. Just a distant memory.