This is where stuff starts getting awkward.
Ah, I love it.
Jack had no way to tell how much time had passed, but he guessed it had been about four days. During that time, he hadn't heard from Pitch even once. He was forced to sit in a completely dark room and watch Pitch's shadows attempt to unease him. The closest they ever got was when one night, they wrapped around his ankle. Jack had been asleep at the time so it caught him off guard.
It's not like Jack was trying not to be scared. It was just after all the stuff that had happened to him, it was really hard to scare him. He was constantly in a fight or flight mode but he was so used to it that it seemed he was relaxed. And since he didn't think the shadows could actually harm him, he mostly just tried to make shapes out of them as a child would with clouds.
Jack's biggest problem being locked away was boredom. He had nothing to do other than roll around the bed or stare at the wall. On the second day, he decided to do simple exercising to help him pass the time. It worked until his lungs were burning and there wasn't enough energy to continue. After that, there was absolutely nothing for him to do.
Jack wasn't much of a complainer. Normally whenever something happened, he figured out how to deal with it and move on. This, however, was difficult to move on from.
"Pitch, c'mon," Jack said to the nearest shadow, hoping the god could hear him. "Obviously, you know by now the shadows won't work. Open the door and try something else."
Of course there was no response.
"Please, Pitch," Jack begged. He wasn't above begging. He'd done a lot of it in his life. No reason that should change now. "Fine, I'll just bite my tongue off."
That did the trick. The shadow blocking the door opened and revealed a glaring Pitch. In his hand was a small cloth bag that Jack knew was his dinner. Normally it simply appeared through the shadows.
"You're no use to me dead," Pitch hissed. He threw the bag at Jack then began to pace through the room. "You don't realize your situation. You are a sacrifice, not a guest. You do not have the luxury to make requests. And honestly, since I can't scare you, I may just kill you soon."
Jack was listening, but he was more interested in the bacon he'd found in his bag. One of the upsides to being a Pitch's captive was that, for some reason, he was brought good food. He ate better in here than he ever had when he was free. It made him wonder if this was Pitch's taste or he didn't know the difference.
"Hey, Pitch, what do you eat?" Jack asked.
"Fear," Pitch said dramatically, hoping to scare Jack. Of course it didn't work. "That's why you're useless."
Jack stared down. "Oh. I see the problem."
"It's just so hard for me to access your fears," he complained. "It's like you're somehow blocking me."
"I'm not meaning to," Jack confessed. "But since I'm so tasteless, why not just let me go?"
Pitch turned on Jack with the coldest eyes he'd ever seen. It startled him, which earned a grin from Pitch. "No, Jack, I will make you fear me."
"But what if I don't?" Jack challenged.
"Then I'll kill you."
Jack stared at Pitch's face. He knew it was true. He knew that's the only reason he was there. He was there to die by Pitch's hands. He was ready to die.
And yet, he wanted to know more about Pitch. He didn't know anything other than his name and the fact that he'd been feeding on his villages fear for centuries. He had so many questions. That'd always been a part of his personality. His curiosity had gotten him in so so much trouble.
"How can I stop?" Jack asked.
"Stop what?" Pitch asked shortly.
"Blocking you," Jack clarifies. "I don't know how I'm doing it, so you'll have to help me stop."
Pitch looked thoughtful as he resumed his pacing. Jack wanted to offer suggestions, but he doubt any of them would be helpful. Besides, Pitch would probably actually kill him if he spoke right now.
"I don't know," Pitch admits after a minute. "I've even tried getting into your dreams. It's like you're always on your guard."
Jack closed his eyes. Of course he was. Not like he was in the most comfortable place, just looking at the sunset. But he knew it ran deeper. He was just so scared of everything. How on Earth could he be so afraid but apparently show no fear at all?
"I guess you'll just have to trust me." Pitch said the word like it was poison.
Jack gave him a look. "Why would I do that? I mean, I can just be like 'hey, I trust you' but actually trust is something unconscious. And I doubt you'd be able to earn it, fear god."
"I don't like the idea either," Pitch said. "It's a disgusting human trait. But your mental walls are too strong for me to get through."
"If I know this is your plan, won't I always be on my guard?" Jack pondered. "How will we get around that?"
Pitch groaned and threw his arms up in frustrations. "I know I'm cursed, but I've never truly felt it until now."
"You're cursed?" Jack asked.
Pitch glared at him. "Not the point."
"Is this going to be too hard for you?" Jack asked with a grin. "Because, you know, Pitch, I only trust my friends."
Pitch gave him a startled look and disappeared through the shadows as if running away. Sadly, he had the since to close the door before he left. Jack should really learn to shut his mouth once in a while. He might've talked him into letting him out.
"It won't be that bad," Jack said because now he knew Pitch could hear him. "I'm a great friend."