They were tired and starving and scared. Terrified, actually, and they had every reason to be. The woods were cold and dark at night, and the siblings were lost somewhere in them. They had no supplies and no training on how to survive. Every rattle of the bushes made them flinch, imagining vicious wolves or huge bears about to jump out and eat them.

He was especially scared for his little sister. She was only six. She didn't deserve this. Well, neither of them did, but he was ten so he could handle it, but she was only six, so he had to watch out for her.

"Don't worry. Don't worry. I'll protect you," He whispered, tucking his little sister in closer. It was freezing, every breath fogging in the nights chill. He could feel his eyelids drooping.

Something shook the tree branches, waking him back up and making him watch for whatever monster would attack them. He was so tired, but terror flowed through him, keeping him from falling asleep. His little sister was already asleep, and she looked so peaceful. He wished he could join her.

Something growled in the night.

Tears built in his eyes. He just wanted this all to stop.

So, so tired.

So, so scared.

Jack stood in front of the children slumped against the tree. A boy with the shell of a girl tucked in his arms. The actual little sister was riding piggyback style on Jack, sleeping. It was the boy's time as well, but every time Jack tried to pull him, a shadow interrupted him.

"Pitch, stop it. This is childish,"

"Oh? I was unaware you had qualms about having a little fun," the shadows condensed and a man stepped out. He wore black, head to grey foot, and his golden eyes glinted in the darkness, "Aren't you all about playing with children and immature little tricks?"

"Not when it comes to life and death,"

"Just death, you mean." Pitch sneered, "If I recall, Life isn't exactly your forte, Frost,"

"Doesn't matter. Let him go Pitch. He deserves to rest,"

"Die, you mean. It must be so exhausting, watching kids die day in and day out. You can't possibly be handling it as well as you act like you are,"

Jack narrowed his eyes, "What are you playing at? This is my job, and I intend to do it until..."

"Until when? Until the Christians' lovely Judgement Day? Until eternity? Until the Man in the Moon sayeth otherwise? Frost, I've been doling out fear to these humans for a small eternity; do not think you'll get off any sooner. You'll continue until either you break or the world does." Pitch paused, staring at Jack meaningfully, "Which do you suppose will come first?"

The shadows wrapped around the entity of fear and he disappeared into the night, but Jack could still hear his voice, "Go on and collect your little soul, Jack, and the next and the next until you're crushed under the weight of them all. I'll savor the moment you buckle and collapse,"

Jack's eyes darted back and forth, making sure the other was really gone before he turned his attention back to the kids. Without the adrenaline to keep him awake, the boy was quickly slipping under. Jack reached out and pulled a snowflake out of the air, tossing it toward the child's nose just as he fell asleep.

A moment later he was standing beside Jack, small, transparent hand in his. Quietly, Jack slipped the girl off his back, and handed her to her brother.

"What's going on?" The boy asked, as he instinctively pulled his sister in close.

"You tried your best, and now it's time to rest. Everything will be better once you wake up," Jack said, crouching to their level.

"Will momma and papa be there?" The girl murmured, waking.

"They'll be there soon. Don't worry,"

The boy stared at Jack, tucking his sister in closer even though she squirmed, and Jack could see the fight forming in the boy's eyes. He wasn't old enough to understand the details, but he knew what was going on, and he didn't want to go. He had stuff to do - people to protect. He had dreams to follow, astronauts to become and Christmas presents to open. He'd been terrified beyond rational thought only moments ago, but even that was preferable to this.

"I'm sorry," Jack said, "It's too late. You have to go,"

As he began to disappear, the boy said in a tone that indicated he was copying something an adult told him, "If you were really sorry, you'd do something about it,"

"Bye bye," The girl said oblivious to her brother's anger, her waving hand the last thing to disappear.

"Bye," Jack waved, even though they were already gone. He stayed crouched for a minute. He felt heavier than usual, as if someone had draped a lead blanket over his shoulders. Contrary to what the boy said, if Jack had only done nothing, he might have lived. Pitch might have continued scaring the boy into the waking world until someone came to rescue him. He would have been traumatized for life and it was too late for his sister, but he could have lived. If Jack hadn't done his job.

Waving the thought away, Jack pushed himself up with his staff and took off. Pitch was right about one thing: Jack's department wasn't life; it was death, and someone out there was calling to him. He had work to do.