"If you say it, then mean it!
If you mean it, then do it!
This one's for the outcast, for those about to fall
This is for the lowlife, this one's for us all
La la la la la la...
This is for the outcast,
We don't need a cure!"
Sera let the loud sound of soulful rock fill her head as she walked down the street. It would've taken much less time to go by metro, but she didn't want to risk running into Sid again. It was finally starting to sink in. Sid was back, and she would eventually have to do something about it; or wait for him to come for her. She preferred the first option. Damn, he wasn't supposed to be out of jail for years, not after what he did to her. Someone from the gang had probably bailed him out. Fortunately, he had been drunk, surprised and only with one friend when they had met. She had managed to take off before getting seriously injured. Sera had covered the black eye in the locker room.
At least she had done okay in the audition, however the healing stab wound from the night before had made it a bit rough for her. Sera had been a "rara avis," a rare find among those who had auditioned, with her wild hair, tattoos and scars. This wasn't new to Sera in the least, but at least she stood out. They had all performed their own one short solo, and then came together for a group choreography session. Sera had nailed her favorite solo, except for one twirl that was a challenge. She had covered it up well, as if her stumbling was part of the choreography, but it still bugged her. Sera was a strict perfectionist when it came to her dancing, and failure was not acceptable. She would practice until she nailed that twirl flawlessly.
The buildings were getting dirtier and far less appealing as she walked on. She was close. Sera fastened her phase, trying to feel her toes again as snow slowly fell down from the sky. Why was it always so cold?
Pitch lifted his head when the door opened and Sera walked in, as did Jack Frost and the Sandman, who were taking their turn to be his "babysitters." Bill had left a few hours ago and Pitch welcomed anything that distracted him from Jack's attempts to have a conversation with the Sandman. The girl had a determinant look on her face as she marched to the bathroom and returned with dancing shoes in hand. As delicate as het little feet were, they were dancer's feet. The skin was tough, callused, and hardened. She slipped the shoes on and tied the dainty laces carefully around her ankles.
After she had coldly cleared herself some space, she started to spin. She was on the tip of her other leg, her arms making circular movement to keep her in motion. Pitch was hypnotized by the sight, captured by her swift movements.
"Damn," Jack muttered as she just went on and on, picking up speed with her free foot every few seconds.
Surprisingly, after minutes of continuous twirling, Sera lost her balance and fell with a painful thump. Sandy and Jack shared a pitiful look. Sera had landed on her left side, her frame rigid with frustration as she caught her breath. "Damn it," she cursed roughly and dragged herself onto the nearby sofa. Sera pulled her shoes off carefully and winced. Her feet were covered in blood.
"New shoes," she sighed, sounding slightly gentle, and walked to the bathroom. She left bloody footprints to the floor. Pitch thought they looked, in a twisted way, sort of… beautiful. He would have to use those in some nightmare in the future.
Soon, Sera returned from the bathroom with her feet wrapped tightly in white gauze. She sighed as she saw the state of her floor and went to get a bucket and a rag from the supply closet from the kitchen. Her face was emotionless as she wiped the traces of blood off away from the surface.
Hours late, Bill returned and Sera quickly pulled a pair of thick wool socks over her bandaged feet. He leaned to kiss her over the shoulder, and Pitch narrowed his eyes.
oooOooo
It was midnight. Sera sat cross legged on the sofa, watching videos of her old dance performances. Pitch found them very interesting. When she danced, she looked innocent, seductive, light as a feather and broken by sorrow, whatever was required. The girl stretched her toes close to her face, swirled, spun around, skipped, and formed intricate images with her body. This odd way of moving was (especially for a woman) somehow immodest, yet still beautiful. The Sandman was sending dream sand all around the world at the front window, but it didn't seem to affect her in any way as she studied video after video…
Bill placed a white pill into her palm. "You should get some sleep. You only got, like, five hours of rest last night."
"I know, Bill." she mumbled, not taking her eyes off the screen. Bill squeezed her shoulders.
"Please, Sera," he murmured.
"Fine", she huffed, throwing her hand to her mouth and swallowing the pill in haste. "See? You go to sleep. I'll be there in a minute." Bill nodded and went to the bedroom after giving her one last worried look.
The moment Sera had took the white pill, golden sand started to float closer. She inhaled it, and in ten minutes her eyes started to flicker shut. The girl collapsed on her side and curled into a ball, quickly drifting to sleep. Sandy smiled gently at her as Jack went to turn the DVD player off. Gold dream sand over Sera's head formed images of her singing and floating around in a dreamlike state, a happy smile on her face.
Pitch would have gasped if he could, when the golden sand later started to turn darker. The small dream sand-figure of Sera stopped and stood very still as the dream sand turned completely black. Pitch watched in fascination: the girl attracted nightmares all herself. Another figure of black sand appeared and seized her into an embrace. Sera let out a silent groan and Jack and Sandy turned to look at her.
"What!" Pitch snapped out of his staring as Jack grabbed him roughly by the sleeve.
"Leave her dreams alone, Pitch!" but the Nightmare King shook his head and rolled his eyes, to tell that he had nothing to do with it. He couldn't, not when his powers were inactive from Sandy and Jack's binding dream-ice collaboration. Besides, it's not like he ran around personally granting every single nightmare. People with fears and problems summoned them all on their own.
"Turn it back," Jack growled, turning to Sandy. The little golden man tossed a ball of his dream sand in Sera's direction, but it merely blended into the nightmare. The two Guardians sighed. When kids grew up, they no longer needed protection from them, so they stopped believing. When they stopped believing, they could no longer be affected by the Guardians protection. The adults, including Sera, were on their own.
The black figure was holding its hand on dream sand-Sera's throat and she started to toss around. Pitch felt her fear and drank it like water, feeling suddenly immensely better and refreshed. Then she suddenly screamed. It was long, drawn out, horrible, and filled with terror and despair. So beautiful, Pitch thought as he imagined what it would be like to make her scream like that himself.
Bill burst into the room and ran to Sera's thrashing side. He shook her until her eyes opened. The girl swiped his hands away and fell from the sofa. She backed up on the floor until her back hit the wall, not far from Pitch. Tears ran down her blotchy reddened face and she was hyperventilating. Bill stood still, clearly wanting to go to her, but knowing better not to.
In a flash, Sera turned to look at Pitch and their eyes locked. In that moment, Pitch recognized her. He recognized the little girl who used to go hide and sleep under the table when her mother was either away or fighting with one of her many boyfriends. The girl had rarely slept, and when she did, her mind welcomed the nightmares. Pitch hadn't recognized her earlier, because time had wiped all the innocence and fear off her face. But now she was the same frightened little girl from ten years ago.
Sera stared at him for a long moment with wide eyes and slowly started to move toward him. Jack and Sandy watched in horror as she extended her hand and lightly brushed the Boogeyman's cheek. Just as the girl touched him, she flinched back and buried her head into her knees.
"Oh, God," Pitch could hear her muffled whimper as he felt the tingling sensation on the spot her cold fingertips had made contact with him.
"It's me," Bill said with a calm voice as he approached her, slowly. "It was just a nightmare." He bent down to hug her, but she ignored it and jumped to her feet. Without looking back at the corner where Pitch sat, she sprinted to the bedroom. She came back wearing sweatpants. Bill watched with sad eyes as she pulled trainers on and left without saying a word. After the door had slammed shut after her, it was completely quiet.
"Should we go tell the others?" Jack broke the silence. Sandy shrugged, looking completely lost.
oooOooo
Poison leaned against the sink, trying to slow her heavy breathing. Her throat was on fire, engulfed with searing pain. Just suddenly, out of the blue, purging after meals had started to become harder and harder. The acid must be affecting it, she concluded. Singing was a second nature for her, but nowadays even that hurt. She'd have to figure something out soon.
Sid was sprawled out on sofa, staring at the ceiling. Poison lay quietly next to him and he wrapped an arm absently around her waist. She liked him. He didn't preach to her about her… habit, and he let her take care of her own business. Every now and then he seemed a bit too messed up to be a gang leader, though. Sid being always high, it was mostly Poison who took care of their shit. The number one rule of being a dealer: never use the stuff you sell. Sid just didn't get it.
She sighed and got up. Sid grabbed her wrist. "Where are you going?" his voice was slurred and gravelly.
"Out. Won't be back soon."
"Don't go." His eyes that were once adorably brown, like puppy eyes, were now sunk deep into their sockets, and he was looking at something Poison couldn't see. He had changed, overall, a lot since they had hooked up. The skin on his face was hanging over his cheekbones, he had huge circles around his eyes, and his dirty hair was hanging over his shoulders. When did he end up like this, so gaunt and broken looking?
Poison yanked her hand loose from his grip. "I won't be long, okay?" She didn't even see what happened next coming, but found herself on her knees, knocked to the floor. Blood was dripping on the carpet they had gotten from a recycling centre. Sid was there next to her, kissing her cheek, his arms around her shoulders.
"I'm so sorry, babe," he mumbled in her ear. "You're my Poison, I couldn't help it. Just… please don't go. Let's just…" Poison let him lift her to the sofa with him. Sid held her tight against his chest as they lay there quietly and warm blood slowly dried on her face.
oooOooo
Sera suddenly stumbled and almost fell on her face as the memory overtook her mind. She pulled it back together and kept running. She wasn't alone, no matter what time of day, you're never alone in London, but this was the closest thing of solitude she got. Bill was just trying to help, and that was exactly what she didn't need, nor want. Damn those nightmares, they always brought unwanted things to the surface. Sera felt the urge of leaving and taking, once again, another name in use rising. As she ran away from her problems, only the beating of her heart and the quick pace of her breathing remained. Well, except for one thing. She couldn't get the image of those dark yellow eyes, surrounded by grey gaunt skin, out of her head.
oooOooo
"God, just please don't do that again, Sera! You could've been hit by a drunk driver, mugged, or worse!" Bill was pacing the living room, a usual for him in times like these, as he "scolded" the newly returned Sera like a concerned parent.
"Shush. Drawing." Sera held her hand up to silence Bill's ranting. She sat on the sofa, her eyes fixed on a sketch she was manically drawing on a big pad of paper. She was sweaty, red-eyed, and her hair was messy and stuck with sweat to her cheeks. Bill rubbed his eyes, exhausted. It was four o'clock in the morning. Sera had spent over an hour on her run and one hour drawing.
"Go live with her, they said. It'll be fun, they said," he muttered, growling to himself.
"No one said it would be fun. Everybody told you not to," she noted, eyes still fixed on her work. "There. Done," She placed the pen and pad next to her in a flourish, satisfied.
Bill leaned over her shoulder to look. "Damn," he breathed. "Name one form of art you're not good at." He let a smile cross his lips.
"You should have heard me playing fipple flute in elementary school," she answered. "Hell, I couldn't even play triangle."
"Who is that?" Bill asked, furrowing his brow.
"I don't… I don't know. I probably made him up as a child." Sera turned quiet, looking down at her hands, covered in ink from her effort.
"You should sell this shit. People would buy this from Ebay or something, y'know." Bill patted her shoulder, proudly.
Sera shook her head, laughing. "Don't be silly, Bill. Nobody wants my crappy artwork. C'mon, let's go to sleep."
When they had left the room, Jack jumped to look at her drawing with curious eyes. Looking closely at the sketch, the winter spirit let out a quiet gasp. "Um… Sandy?"
Curiosity took over Pitch and he managed to get on his knees and stretch his neck to look over at the art spectacle. His eyes widened with shock.
From the sketch pad stared an accurate ink portrait of Pitch Black.
oooOooo
AN: There you go, the chapter I promised, it still turned out quite long. I'm so excited; things are finally starting to happen! I have like tons of material for this in my head, sometimes I don't even know how to fit it all in. Reading your reviews is the best part of my day, keep sending those. Thanks for reading, dearies!
~Janice