Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction.

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Special thanks to Bloody-Rozez, Seryyth and xXxMystical-DreamerxXx – reviews are greatly appreciated!

A brief note: I did not mean to indicate that Jack's hand was severed in Pitch's attack. Pierced through by the point of the blade of his scythe, yes. Thank you, xXxMystical-DreamerxXx, for making me aware that it was unclear. I will try to make the difference more evident.

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He felt like he was losing his mind. The last time he had been so perturbed was the day he awoke from the ice. His destiny had been obscured from him then just as it felt his friends were being shrouded from him now. Though it had seemed to him Jamie's lack of faith was the end of the world – or at the very least the end of his world – after his battle with Pitch, he understood there were worse things. One thing Jack was grateful for was the fact that spirits like him could not bleed as mortals did. The nightmare king had not severed his hand. The scythe had left a sizable hole in his appendage where the blade had pierced him, though.

The wound was something that could be looked through. Standing on one side of his palm, the ice and snow accumulated on the ground on the other could clearly be seen through the crater which had been left. It was curiously symbolic, he felt, of the fissure that rent his soul.

His loneliness when he had first awoken from the frozen grave that had claimed his earthly life had nearly consumed him. He kept his fun-loving nature over the years, though. It had been the one thing that had helped him through the desolation which had threatened to consume him in those first few weeks. The first child who had walked through him had left him shocked. Over time, he had found he was able to interact with them, though to a lesser extent than they could with each other. That particular discovery had been the only thing that had kept his spirits aloft.

When he met Bunnymund, he had immediately experienced a euphoria he could not explain. The knowledge that another spirit existed altered his perceptions drastically. Nothing could abate his anger at the man in the moon for refusing to disclose any details regarding his purpose. Becoming aware of a counterpart was more than he could have hoped. Everything changed when the children had run up to the tall hare, their paths often taking them directly through his form. The events of that day had begun a rivalry between the two spirits. Jack had taken great delight in wreaking havoc with the Easter hunt. Many of the children had found the snow and ice an added bonus.

Unfortunately for Jack, the Easter spirit had found the distraction he had provided offensive. While the kids had giggled, occasionally chasing a snowflake the winter spirit would use to guide them to one of the rabbit's hidden treats, the jewels on the lagomorph's arm guards had glinted in the light reflected by the gleaming white snow as he had perched his hands on his hips. Jack remembered that moment with equal measures of fondness and anxiety. Flexing the fingers of his injured hand, the white-haired guardian sighed mournfully.

"What's wrong, Jack?"

Tooth's voice to his left startled him. Jumping with the updraft passing by, he rose into the air. Hearing her hummingbird wings as she hovered alongside him, he exhaled a slow breath. The ice wielder closed his eyes before addressing her.

"Please don't do that."

She chuckled. "Sorry."

He opened his eyes, cerulean blue orbs gazing blindly in the direction of the fairy's voice. A wry smile twisted his lips. "Oh, yes. I can tell you are."

Though he could not see her, the grin on her face was evident in her voice. "You would be sorely disappointed if I didn't have a little fun." A short hum was the only response she received. "I don't know what to tell you, Jack." Feeling her hand squeezing his shoulder, he laid his hand on top of hers, patting it gently.

"We do have more important things to worry about just now anyway."

"Da." North's baritone sounded from in front of him. "Chto?" The few moments of silence that followed gave the ice wielder the opportunity to mull over the options available to him. If he traveled with them, he could be a liability. Alternatively, staying behind would leave the witch with the ability to effectively eliminate her opponents by freezing them. While the Russian was accustomed to the frigid weather, he did not want to consider what it would do to either Toothiana or Sandy. A smirk curled his lip as he mused over Bunnymund's reaction.

"Whatever you're thinkin' about, mate, it must be good to bring that look to your face." The Australian drawl sounded as if it were coming from directly in front of him. Landing on the ground pushed the snow between his toes, the feeling of the powdery substance as it melted upon contact with his skin sent a chill up his spine. With his head cocked to one side as his mouth returned to a neutral disposition, he reflected on the reactions Annis had demonstrated to the sensation of the snow and ice. His ruminations were interrupted by North's booming laugh.

"Of course, Sandy!" The large hand clapping him on the back sent him stumbling forward a bit. "Oh, sorry, Jack. But, we have a plan. We go after the evil witch."

"Okay... And when you find her?"

"What do you mean?"

The winter guardian crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head back to stare up in the direction of North's voice. "What do you plan to do when you get to her? We can fight her, we may even be able to defeat her. Even if it's permanent, how do we rekindle the children's belief? How do we thaw England?"

Silence greeted him. Straining his ears, he could hear the large rabbit shifting his weight between his feet, the snow crunching underneath the powerful legs. Wings buzzing in the air to his right let him know exactly where Tooth was hovering. Russian mutterings revealed the Christmas spirit's location. No matter how closely he listened, though, he could not seem to find the silent sandman. After minutes of tense quiet, a shifting sound registered in his ears.

"Someone tell me what Sandy said." Jack's quiet voice had the tall hare turning his head sharply to regard the other guardian. The fluttering of the fairy's wings ceased as she landed, the snow crunching heavily even under her dainty weight.

"How do you know he said anything?" Bunny waved his right paw in front of the winter spirit's face as he asked.

Hearing the whirring of the air in front of him being displaced, the ice wielder smirked as he raised his staff to connect with the oscillating limb. A hiss of pain peppered the air as the nearly frozen wood connected with its intended target. "The same way I heard that – his sand moved."

"He only shrugged, mate. An' watch that bean pole, will ya?" The lagomorph rubbed his wrist continuously as he spoke, a grimace the winter spirit could not see twisting his lips.

A brief grin alighted Jack's face, fading almost as quickly as it had arrived. "Well, why don't I tell you what I've learned so far."

When he had felt the guardian's energy flowing into him, he certainly had not envisioned this outcome. Ensconced in the shadows, Pitch sulked about losing the power that filled him with such intensity for so short a time. Watching the organ form in the empty depression of the evil spirit's skull had been a sickening and singularly frightening experience. After his own Nightmares turned on him, he had never expected to be afraid again. Living through the horrors they visited upon him as only a spirit could, Pitch had known only terror for several months after his defeat at the hands of the Guardians.

Despite the horror that even the memory of that time invoked in him, the nightmare king had eventually overcome the panic that even seeing the shadows had begun to incite. He had been elated when he could once more slip into the darkness without his own trepidation overwhelming him. Skulking about through the shadows and seeing the fear that passed over the faces of children throughout the world at the mention of his name even after the events in Burgess empowered him once more.

Molding that fear as much as he could without calling down his nemeses became his goal. Feeding on the terror he could invoke in various individuals over time rather than trying to cause everyone nothing but misery all at once strengthened him. He found the experience exhilarating. Yet even the energy that flowed freely into him from so many sources at once had not compared to the vitalizing sensation of drawing out Jack's essence.

Pitch was unsure if the transfer had happened just because he had pierced his enemy's hand, or as a result of his scythe connecting with Jack's staff. Regardless, the dissolution of that stored energy into the witch Annis was not an event he had desired. Using his affinity with the shadows, he had easily left her cavern – and her gleeful cackles – behind.

Walking through the streets in broad daylight was unusual for him. Even traipsing in the shadows, the youngest inhabitants of the village could make out his silhouette. The youngest ones would cling closer to their parents. Older children would move further from the overhangs under which they tended to walk for the shelter provided from the winter weather. A malicious grin made its home on his face as they shied away from him more frequently. With each one that moved from his path, he stood taller, his strides growing more confident.

Perhaps it was their debilitating fear of Annis which caused them to be able to see him more clearly than they had since those glorious dark ages for which he yearned. Whatever the cause, he reveled in the rapturous feeling. A pale imitation of the euphoria he had felt when Jack's power coursed through him, the sensation was still heady. Unfortunately for the nightmare king, it only lasted until sunset as with the evil spirit's arrival, their fear found another focus which consumed it entirely.

"Ah, it makes such a glorious difference."

"Oh?" Pitch crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded her. His tone dripped with disdain.

Her eyes narrowed as she turned to him. "Don't be such a spoilsport. It's better I took this than your existence – which was what I had been aiming for."

Pitch's eyes widened briefly before he snorted in derision. "As I once told Jack Frost, fear cannot be killed."

Annis' dark chuckle echoed in the empty street. "It's not fear I meant to eviscerate with my talons." She walked away from him then, effectively dismissing him as a lesser being. His eyes narrowed as he watched her departure.

"You should take greater care, witch. You've apparently forgotten that I do know what will end you." His angry words passed unheard into the night air.

The white-haired winter spirit had spoken of the evil phantom seeking to conquer the English well after the sun had set. His inability to see the places his feet traveled did not stop the mischief maker from pacing. The affinity he had long held with the wind allowed him to stay aloft, hovering above any obstacles over which he might have stumbled. Even the twirling of his staff as he passed it between his hands was sure and unhindered.

Bunnymund watched him with a wistful smile. Whether the fun-loving guardian realized that he had eliminated the handicap with which he had been left was irrelevant. The simple fact was that Jack quickly conquered the impairment with which Pitch had saddled him. Knowing that his compatriot was so resilient was different from actually seeing his ability to overcome the difficulty. Even when he had doubted his own conviction after seeing the despondency which permeated his friend's very being when Jamie could no longer see them, he had held out hope that he was wrong when he had uttered the hurtful words Jack had seen fit to hurl back at him upon their arrival in England. Watching the winter spirit as he relayed what he had been able to learn so far, he recognized the truth of his confidence.

Winding down from his revelations, the youngest guardian let the wind set him down on the snow-covered ground. Drawing the cooler elements into himself, Jack sat on the patch of grass he had cleared, crossing his legs as he waited for the others to provide any input. Toothiana's jaw fell open in astonishment at altered application of his abilities.

"Bozhe moi! How long have you been able to do that, Jack?"

"Hm?" The youngest guardian seemed genuinely surprised by the Russian's query. "Do what?"

Hopping gently over to the mischievous spirit, the lagomorph leaned in as he posed his query. "Jack, what do you feel underneath you right now?"

"Grass. Why... Oh." The white-haired spirit blushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I didn't actually know I could do that until Conall was about to slip on the ice. At the time, it was the only thing I could think of to keep him from falling." His unseeing eyes looked up at them. "He looked at me with such wonder when I did that, and then such anger the next day when I froze the axe."

Though his cerulean blue eyes could no longer behold the faces of his friends, the winter spirit was able to sense the kindness in Bunnymund's touch as the hare reached over to pat his knee.

"He explained that, mate. The boy didn't understand what he saw and made an assumption."

"Oh." The single word was accompanied by a small smile before the mischief maker's brow furrowed. "Wait. You met him?"

Out of habit, Tooth nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes! And his brother Piers. You really made an impression on them." Jack cringed slightly. "No, no. It was a good impression!"

"Da. They wouldn't even tell us anything about where you could have gone. They wanted to protect you."

A goofy grin spread across the youngest spirit's face. "Really?"

Though he could no longer see Sandy's shape speech, he could hear the sand as it rapidly shifted, indicating the ancient spirit was attempting to retell the entire event. As the rabbit to his left cleared his throat, the sound halted.

"He doesn't need to know any of that right now." Hearing the discomfiture in the furry guardian's voice, Jack's grin became playful.

"Something you wanna tell me there, Kangaroo?"

The aggravated huff expelled from the tall hare only served to widen his smile.

"Yeah, Frosty."

Jack frowned. He might make snow, and he might even help kids build snowmen, but he had never appreciated the appellation comparing him with the television icon. His tone became slightly surly as he responded. "Well?"

Allowing an impish smile to alight his face, Bunnymund managed to keep his tone somewhat serious as he replied. "As the Americans say, I'm drunk."