Hey people! Ok, so I don't know how to post authors notes, so this'll have to do! This is chapter 2 to this story! Hope you like it! Oh, and please no flames as this is my first story. Review and let me know what ya think! J
Jack awoke a few hours later in a dark room lit dimly by a few candles on a bedside nightstand. He blinked a few times and tried to stand up. The attempt was quickly averted due to a sharp pain that shot through his leg. That's when he remembered what had happened.
He quickly surveyed his room as best he could in the poor lighting. The bed was a hospital style bed with black sheets and pillows. There seemed to be bookshelves stocked with books on the walls of the tiny room, but Jack couldn't tell. An image of Pitch sitting in an arm chair actually reading flashed across his mind and he laughed. There wasn't much else in the room other than the shelves, the bed and the nightstand. So, he decided to close his eyes and get some rest.
Literally the same moment his eyelids fluttered shut the door opened. He sighed deeply, as he was still very tired. Pitch walked into the room, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl on it and a glass of water.
"Morning sunshine." He teased as he set the tray down at the foot of the bed and took a seat. Jack could barely see him in the darkness, but he could see enough of him to see he was smiling smugly.
"Ok, why are you being so nice to me Pitch? Why are you helping me?" Jack decided to be blunt about it and ask him straight up.
"Well, Jack, if you must know, I came to see you to tell you something. But then you had to go and be all clumsy and fall from the tree. So now I'm stuck here, taking care of you." Pitch said, sarcasm evident in his tone. Jacks face flushed red in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. It wasn't like what Pitch said wasn't true, but that didn't make it any less insulting.
"It's not like you have to take care of me. You can go ahead and continue with your nightmares and hiding under beds." Jack sneered. Pitch closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling as he fought his anger towards Jack.
"You and your other Guardians friends will be happy to know I don't control nightmares anymore Jack." He informed him, eyes still tightly shut.
"What do you mean?" Jack questioned.
"I mean that when you and the others imprisoned me, I became so weak my powers left me. I now have no control over the nightmares. So, I hope that makes you happy." Pitch said as he stood up suddenly. He took long strides towards the exit and reached towards the door handle before a voice stopped him.
"Wait! D-don't leave yet Pitch." Jack stuttered. Pitch glared in Jack's direction, barely able to see him. He made a mental note to get better lighting later.
"Why Jack? You don't care about me. None of you do. Tell me something, Jack. Did you ever once even think of me during the time I was down there?" Pitch yelled, anger rising in his voice with every word. He strode back towards the bedside.
"Did you?" He asked again. Jack stuttered, trying to find the right words.
"Y-yes. I did Pitch. I did almost every day. I felt so horrible for you. I know what it's like to be alone, to not be believed in. We should have never done that to you and I'm sorry ok?" Jack whispered, tears forming in the corners of his blue eyes. Pitch was taken aback. He had assumed Jack had forgotten about him, cast him aside like a child's used doll. This changed everything.
Pitch leaned in and grasped Jack. At first, the boy struggled in his arms, thinking he was trying to strangle him. But he relaxed when he realized that Pitch was…Hugging him. He quickly returned the hug, digging his head into the soft folds of Pitch's black robes. They stayed like that for a few minutes, with Pitch grasping and holding onto Jack while he let Jack cry into him. They eventually broke away after what seemed like an eternity.
"Feel better Jack?" Pitch asked. The boy nodded and wiped a stray tear from his puffy eyes with his hoodie sleeve.
"Thank you Pitch." He whispered in the darkness.
"We don't have to be enemies Jack. We can work together sometimes you know." Pitch casually said. Jack tensed up, still unsure if he could trust him. But he figured if he was going to harm him or kill him, he would have done it by now.
"I guess so Pitch. Your not to bad of a person, once you get you know you." Jack smiled at him. Pitch chuckled. He reached over and grabbed the tray, seemingly forgotten during there whole little scenario.
"Now eat. Before it gets even colder than it already is Jack. Not that that should really affect you." Pitch smiled as he handed him the tray. Jack now saw it was a bowl of chicken soup. He looked up at Pitch.
"You cook?" He asked, astonishment in his voice. Pitch nodded.
"People have to eat Jack." He said as he stood up and began walking towards the door. A voice stopped him again. He turned around and looked at Jack, eyebrows raised.
"Pitch…Thank you." Jack said.
"Your welcome Jack." He replied and left the door, closing it on his way out.
With the door shut and Jack unable to hear him, Pitch leaned against the door. He sighed as he went over what had just happened, and what Jack had said. It can't mean anything, can it? He kept asking himself over and over again. He groaned in frustration. Why did I have to fall in love with him? He thought.
What he didn't know however, was that on the other side of the door, Jack was thinking the exact same thing.