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Some days, David really hated his job. When he got to work and saw his assigned rotation was the observation floor, he had become positively perky. There were no bed pans to change, and most of the patients did not require intravenous medications. Reviewing the patient sheets, he had only paused at the one with some concern for being given a rough time. The young girl was apparently seeing a six-foot tall blue rabbit... Blinking rapidly, the orderly rubbed his eyes before reading the patient's complaint again. The doctor's notes showed that otherwise she seemed perfectly healthy. She showed no other breaks with reality – she was aware of the date, the current monarch, and could even name the prime minister. His eyebrows rose at that note. He knew several adults who were unable to identify the nation's political leaders.
There was a note that she had been giving the nurses a hard time. Reading that, David had sighed. So when he had pushed the cart laden down with medication into her room, he had been pleasantly surprised by her demeanor. It had not occurred to him to question her affability. In hindsight, he realized he should have. When he had come back out of the next room, he had caught a glimpse of the elevator doors closing. His eyes narrowed as he stepped into the moonlight streaming in through the hallway window. Running a hand through his short-cropped hair, he shook his head. As it swiveled towards her door, he noticed it was ajar. Cursing under his breath, he headed for the emergency stairwell. He would not make it to the ground floor before her, but he certainly would be close behind.
By the time he had reached the ground floor, David was panting. Making a resolution to spend more time at the gym, he slowly pushed open the stairwell door. He stopped to catch his breath, leaning against the wall. The moonlight pouring in through the glass front doors seemed brighter than he recalled it being a few moments earlier. It seemed to be beckoning him towards the entrance. Knowing he needed to go that way to see if the girl was at least still within sight, he pushed himself upright. As he straightened up, the angle of the light changed, silhouetting a female in apparent distress just on the other side of the glass.
Rushing towards the doors, David called out for a gurney and a doctor. His feet slapped against the tile floor loudly, long strides carrying him to the entrance within seconds. Mentally praising technology as the sensor processed his presence and the automatic doors slid open, he rushed out into the cold. The subject of his search was staring skyward, her eyes open but unseeing. The angle of her body suggested someone was holding her up, but he saw no one else. He scooped her into his arms, rushing her back inside just as the gurney was wheeled to the door. Laying her on it, he took a step backwards. With surprising strength, the young girl reached out, her hand clamping on his forearm before he could pull away. Her lips moved, but he could hear no sound. Leaning closer, he asked her to repeat whatever she had said.
Her voice was shaky as she said the witch's name. He had heard many people talking about some ancient legendary hag that stole the souls of children. Frowning at the young girl, he shook his head and let her be wheeled down to the emergency department for examination. They would send her back up to her room once they had diagnosed her. Taking another look through the glass, David almost thought he could make out a wretchedly ugly face snarling at him, but when he blinked, it had vanished once more. He walked back over to the lift station, depressing the button and waiting for the car to arrive.
A mirthless, almost hysterical, chuckle escaped him as he considered his patient's condition. Her skin had been tinged blue, her pulse had been thready, and she had almost been unable to even open her eyes. The lift arrived, and as he stepped into the empty box, he briefly contemplated the possibility that something other than the unseasonably frigid weather had caused the girl's plight. Shaking his head at the fanciful thought, he dismissed the idea. After all, unlike the elder generation spreading old tales and the children who were so willing to believe that a supernatural force was responsible for their present state, David did not believe in fairy tales.
Pitch had watched from the shadows as they had battled in the clearing. He had almost hoped that Jack would simply knock the witch into the flowing canal and freeze the surface over. When the moonlight had shone on him, nearly revealing him to the combatants, he had glared skyward. "It certainly wouldn't harm the hag to be frozen for a time."
When the ice wielder had flash frozen the half-blind harridan, the nightmare king had smiled. It had quickly turned to a frown once the youngest guardian had caused a deluge of snow to cover the block of ice. The boogeyman had growled in irritation, muttering under his breath, as he saw Annis slide out from the prison. Aggravated by the turn of the battle, he had followed her.
As they came upon the girl standing outside the infirmary, Pitch fervently hoped the child would walk back into the building before the witch could attack her. Unfortunately, his wish was not to be fulfilled. Watching as the harridan began drawing the life from the child, he debated with himself whether to aid her. Arguing internally, the boogeyman was quick to retort that he was not in league with the Guardians any time the growing seed of empathy chose to voice its opinion. His dilemma, internal though it was, apparently caught the attention of his old friend who once more spotlighted him in the moonlight.
"I'm not one of your minions, you know." The light dimmed a bit before brightening once more, a seeming nod from the illuminated path in the snow. "I'm not. I don't do good and decent things." The light's pattern repeated. The nightmare king's eyes narrowed. "Of course, if she's dead, she can't have bad dreams, and that's one less child whose belief will give me strength." Bestowing a single firm nod upon the bouncing streak of light that he was sure was laughing at him, he stepped from the shadows only to see a mortal rushing to the girl.
He was shocked at the man's evident lack of belief in Annis. Pitch had been certain that she had managed to manipulate all of the residents of the area, her terrible acts causing them to spread word of her horrid existence even among the adults who were well past the age associated with allegedly outlandish beliefs. Yet even as the boogeyman watched, his jaw falling slack in surprise, the man simply took the child from the witch. His jaw clacked shut noisily, but the harridan only had eyes for the mortals. Realizing the opportunity that had been so fortuitously presented to him, the nightmare king grinned malevolently as he stepped directly behind the ancient spirit.
Taken by surprise, Annis was barely able to extend her hands to halt her momentum before the force pushing on her was able to push her against the glass. She snarled as the man who had so unceremoniously separated her from her breakfast, her eyes narrowing in hatred as he unmistakeably looked through her. The witch had not been so callously dismissed since the times when the mortals actually knew how to keep her at bay.
Pushing against the reflective surface, she propelled her body backward, allowing her to pivot and face her attacker. A malevolent cackle echoed through the street as she recognized the dark spirit. Even though it meant she would still have no breakfast, she was not going to abandon the opportunity to vent all of her frustration. She launched herself toward him, unmindful of the brightening moonlight.
Pitch took full advantage of the elongated shadows his old friend created for him. Using the tendrils, he pulled her to the ground in front of him, the edges of two shadows combining in order to restrain her hands and prevent her talons from connecting with his form. "Now, now. No need to be so disagreeable."
"I'll show you disagreeable." Her muttered words floated to him on the slight breeze. Before he was able to tilt his head backward upon hearing the rushing wind approach, the boogeyman found himself beset by a flood of wet snow. The avalanche caught him unawares, resulting in his concentration being compromised. The shadows effectively charged with containing Annis dissolved completely. Sneering at him once his head poked through the bank of winter dust with which she had trapped him. "Keep trying, Pitch, dear. For the moment, it suits my purpose to leave you alive. Don't waste this gift."
Turning from him, she strolled a little ways from the temporary 'prison' in which she had encased the nightmare king before vanishing in a swirl of air. Inclining his head so that he would be able to see the nighttime celestial orb, Pitch glared at his old friend.
"You know, this is entirely your fault." The light briefly touched his face, questioning his reasoning. "Oh, yes, it is. You a had the bright idea for me to – quite literally – shadow her." Light extending up onto his face, forcing him to close his eyes against the brightness, asked how the two were related. "How – ? You know, I was unamused when you suggested it. Now... Now I'm irate! I wouldn't even be in this situation if you had bothered, for one single moment, to consider her temperamental tendencies!" Scoffing in disgust, the boogeyman struggled to free himself as the moonlight flickered back and forth. He had no doubt whatsoever that the man in that moon was openly laughing at his predicament.
"I've nothing more to say to you." Finally shaking the white powder off of him, the dark spirit rose to his full height, staring up at the heavens. "Ridiculing me for the outcome of a situation which you tried to engineer. Shameful." The moonlight stretched and ebbed, the gentle sway brushing over his toes. "I'm not a pet to be appeased in such a manner." Dusting himself off, the nightmare king began striding away from the infirmary. The moonlight moved to shine directly on him. "I've no obligation to you, old friend."
Withdrawing the light and leaving the nightmare king in full shadow, the celestial orb seemed to have dimmed significantly. Turning his attention to the sky, Pitch sighed. "There's no need to sulk. You've simply decided on the wrong spirit for the job. I'm no do-gooder." The light brightened slightly as the nightmare king continued to clarify. "Besides, I came here and confronted her when you asked. Even though it turned out that my services were not needed." Flashing brightly, the moon let the dark spirit know exactly how he perceived that sentiment. "Be angry all you want. I'm not here to amuse you."
He turned away once more, fading into the shadows as he made his way out of the clearing. The moonlight filling the streets flourished then ebbed, as though the celestial orb were heaving a great sigh.
Piers and Conall both stood with their hands behind their backs, heads bowed, and feet scuffing the floor slightly as their mother continued scolding them. When the boys' grandmother had told her she had thrown out the spice, the younger woman had swiveled her head and glared at the two boys sitting calmly at the dinner table as they ate their evening meal. Her anger was palpable, and neither boy really wanted to confront her. Eventually, they were unable to delay the inevitable, and after washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, the boys' scolding commenced.
When their mother finally stopped to take a breath, Piers pointed out that only he had gone out without permission. Conall had been home, recuperating as the doctors had instructed. That revelation had a very calming effect on the woman. Though she was still extremely upset with the older brother, she was no longer quite as livid. Part of the reason for her ire had been the thought that Piers had exhibited callous disregard for his sibling's well-being. Knowing that the younger boy had been home safe appeased her slightly, and she sent Conall to his room.
Pulling out a chair, she asked Piers to sit, taking a deep breath as she proceeded to discuss the issue with him. The older boy was quite forthcoming about his adventures, explaining about each of the shops he had visited as well as the trip to a neighboring town. That part had her almost purple as she suppressed the urge to yell at him. Once he had finished, she took several calming breaths before finally asking him why he had felt the need to put himself in such jeopardy. His response had been simple – his grandmother had said she needed something. For him that was enough reason to risk his mother's wrath. He had even spent his own allowance in order to try to purchase the spice.
Silence had fallen over the room as she weighed everything before making a decision as to his punishment. Even with good intentions, he had proven that she could not trust him on his own, and could not trust him alone with only his brother in the house. An offhand comment that they were low on milk could send him to the store to get some, leaving the younger boy without anyone to watch over him. That was unacceptable to her, and she let him know that. She finally decided on grounding him, taking away television privileges. Those had been few to begin with, so the loss would not affect him greatly.
She had sent him to his room after he had apologized. She could tell he had not meant to scare her, but Piers needed to know that he had obligations that he needed to maintain. Her eldest son had given her a somewhat wry smile when she made the statement, but gave her no argument, retreating to his room.
He had noted immediately that one shadow was thicker than the others. Shutting the door quickly, Piers had insisted that the nightmare king show himself. Amused that the mortal thought he had the authority to issue any type of demand to him, Pitch had stepped forward. His left hand was closed tightly, and the spirit squeezing that appendage only drew the boy's attention to it.
"What are you trying to hide?" Piers' eyes were narrowed in suspicion as he watched the shifty spirit move about the room just out of the reach of the shadows.
A malicious smile spread over the nightmare king's face. "I am quite curious as to whether it does what it should, you know." The boy's eyes never left him, his body pivoting as Pitch made a full circle around the room. "Do you want to find out?"
"No. I want you to leave."
Frowning, the boogeyman stood still. "You're no fun." Piers shrugged, completely indifferent as to the dark spirit's opinion of him. "Oh, fine." Opening his hand, palm upward, he revealed a single seed. The dusky yellow kernel had a shape similar to a shelled sunflower seed. Shaking his head slightly, the boy conveyed his lack of understanding. "This is the spice you need." The boy reached into the ancient spirit's hand, gently picking the tiny seed from it. Content that he had concluded the business asked of him by his old friend, Pitch faded back into the shadows. Before he had completely left the room, his sibilant voice floated back to the boy.
"I feel sick. I'm turning into … a good guy. Ugh. Right now, I hate myself."