Survival

Chapter 13: The Mission

Pitch was in ecstasy. The remnants of the Guardian's fear was permeating the air. The scent was so precious. It was something he was only gifted with a hand full of times since the rise of the 14th century. It reeked of hopelessness, despair, doubt, but most of all: disbelief. There was a tingling thread of disbelief that the Man in the Moon would allow this to happen. He was supposed to help them, guide them, and aid the light in conquering the darkness. MiM had failed them. This though is what had shivers running up and down the Nightmare King's spine. It was perfect. Time to take action, but first.

"Jack, come here."

With a burst of a tunnel breeze, the former Guardian zipped to his master, his everything. Kneeling with his head steadily gazing into those glowing eyes of malice, he excitedly inquired, "Yes, Master?"

He was so obedient. So delectable. How could he not reward this determined reverence? Once more, his hand stretched out to card though the formerly pearlecent hair. Poor, touch starved Jack was vibrating with delight, the temperature in the air also changing in time to his palpitating heartbeat to reflect his enjoyment. 'So trusting. So naive.' "I need you to do a little job for me."

"Yes. Anything."

"There's a good lad. But first, need to fix you up a little." The poor lost soul was looking dreadful. His top half was still bare with deep gashes that had re-opened during the scrimmage with North, his leg was half dragging behind him, and his lower lip was still a shredded mess. At least his broken upper arm and pierced lung had mostly healed before those pesky Guardians had arrived. He was much more beautiful this way, but it was not conducive to doing what Pitch had in mind. Jack would at least need both lungs fully functional.

Mind made up, Pitch raised his own wrist to a newly procured crystal-like dagger: the solidified form of a child's tears. Nightmare sand could not hurt him; he wielded it. The shadows that were wound down his arm recoiled at his command revealing skin like dark grey granite up to his elbow. With a careful but deliberate slash Pitch opened up his own veins. With his connection to Jack through blood, sand, and possession, this would be the quickest way to speed up the healing process. With that he gave the command: "Feed."

Without hesitation, but with great reverence, Jack did as told. Rising to the offered wrist, he took it in hand. Placing his mouth around the precious wound he drank deeply. It was a strange sensation. The arm itself was solid and real. He could touch it! The dark life force seeping through the split skin was warm. He could feel the dark purple, almost black blood gushing down his throat the harder he sucked. Simultaneously, he could feel his wounds closing, his breathing come easier, and his bones knitting together. 'Pitch cares. He is helping me willingly. He is giving of himself to me, even though I am not worthy. I am so selfish that I want more. More. This feels so good.'

Eventually, Jack's wounds were manageable. Pitch cleared his throat to break Jack from his concentration. As if coming out of a spell, Jack stiffened in realization he may have taken more than he deserved. With a wet suction sound, he released Pitch's wrist, eyes wide. "I am so sorry. Are you alright? I did not deserve so much."

"Maybe not, but now you have a chance to prove your worth." Retracting his arm back, Pitch allowed his shadows to slither back down his arm to bind the aggravated wound and stop the blood flow. There was no way he would tell Jack how drained he now was. It would take at least 3 days to completely gain his strength back. Healing was not something his did to others often, if ever, and took more out of him than it should. "I need you to go to the North Pole. Hide in the shadows and spy on what those fools are planning. Do not be seen; but if you are, take at least one out before you return. Let's give them something more to remember us by. Be back in no more than 3 days." Pitch was chuckling despite his feeling light headed from all the blood loss. Of course he could have sent a nightmare do his espionage instead, but the Guardians had found his layer somehow. No trusting on the easy options now. 'Speaking of which, I must examine the course of events that lead them here. How did they find me so soon? I should have had at least a week to play with their precious child. Time to go through my deck and see what I am missing.' Turning and continuing down the descending tunnel, Pitch was once again lost in his thoughts, leaving Jack to complete the mission.

The infirmary in Santoff Claussen was in turmoil. With two of the remaining four in need of severe medical attention, the yeti's were called in for reinforcements. North was laid out on a bed with his large overcoat removed. His white shirt was being cut away from his back by the head medic Yeti Warkarwa*. He had dark fur with a long, light grey mustache. This was the worst wound he had seen these past couple of centuries. Red was blooming fast, soaking into the departing fabric. With the wound area clear they could see what they were dealing with. Dark sand was visible in the torn flesh, left by Jack's twisted staff. North was twitching in the throws of a nightmare, but without the strength to truly fight them off.

Warkarwa motioned for Sandy to come forward. Before they could apply pressure to the wound, they needed to draw the sand out. It was like an infection. Bracing himself, Sanderson Mansnoozie placed his hands, hovering above the affected area. Pulling with all his might, he drew out the mutated sand. It was hypnotizing to watch the black grains float out, flicker and then turn golden. Once all the sand was re-assimilated, Sandy used them as an anesthetic to put North out of his misery. With that now taken care of, pressure was applied and emergency procedures began.

On another bed Tooth was also placed on her stomach so as not to aggravate her useless wing. The second in command medic Yeti was inspecting the damage done. She had fainted from the pain during the impromptu transfer from Pitch's layer to headquarters. There was sand in her laceration as well. Once Sandy was done with North, he floated over to Tooth's bedside to do his exorcising process once again. With that taken care of, he and Bunnymund slumped into chairs. They were exhausted and were still being drained of their inner magic. Now they were healing two people at once. The Yeti's had everything in hand. They were competent and sure in their work. Exhausted, the two fell unconscious, not noticing a pair of grey-blue eyes peering at them from the shadow in a high corner of the ceiling.

A/N Sorry for taking so long! I am not giving up, I just keep getting distracted...

*Healer in Hausa