Chapter Two

If you catch the soul eater reference, good on you! I don't own anything. Please don't sue me.

(**)

Severus easily pushed back the Night Mares that Pitch had sent to attack him, killing them with little more than a sweep of his hand. The King of Fear was already gone, escaped to somewhere far although Severus would have to sit down and figure as to where the man could have gone where he could not, or more likely, would not go. There were very few places like that but he was not ready to make a list or even to look for the man that ran away from him. How… how could Kozmotis leave him like that?

Death slowly made his way out of the sunken lair and stood in the frozen night. Something was wrong with him. His chest felt strained, as if someone were pulling on his heart and trying to snatch it right from his chest. It hurt. It hurt horribly. He placed a thin hand on his chest, gripping at the dark fabric as he hunched over in an effort to ease the pain but ease it would not. The man bowed his head upwards, black hair and hood falling backwards as he looked up at the bright moon hanging in the sky, feeling its soothing beams rest on his face and he knew that the eyes of the Man on the Moon were on him at that moment.

"Tsar, I do not understand," he confessed to the first Guardian, not truly expecting an answer from the silent Guardian. They hadn't spoken in decades due to his nonattendance but his heart ached within his chest and he needed someone to speak with, "It hurts that Pitch no longer welcomes me within his arms although I am not sure why it hurts so much or even why he doesn't want me. Has Pitch found another to warm his bed while I was preoccupied?"

As expected, Manny offered no reply although the Moon seemed to dim just a bit in an answer that Severus could not bear decipher in case it was a positive. The older of the two let out a sigh and slowly reached up to pull the dark hood back over his head until his features disappeared into darkness. Then he waved a thin, long fingered hand, summoning a large scythe from the air and holding on it tightly as though it were his pillar of strength. Silently he stood there, eyes hidden but possibly still staring at the bright moon.

"I do not understand what has happened in my absence but I will not give up on Pitch without a battle… I simply cannot do so," he hummed sadly under his breath then disappeared, off to continue his never ending job until he could find the strength to seek out advice or to find the man he loved. Severus would never know that, across the world, in a different realm, the King of Nightmares was speaking to the same person and had the same amount of attention.

(**)

Harry looked at the other Guardians as they tried to puzzle out just what happened and, more importantly, how they should respond. He, personally, hadn't been a spirit for long. He had just started around eighty years ago although he seemed to be only around sixteen at the most. He didn't know all of the Guardians, mostly just North seeing as the man delivered presents to him and his faux godfather even though they weren't children any longer. He also left gifts for Severus when he hadn't been there and when the somber man had opened them later on, Harry had been absolutely sure that a smile had appeared on his face, almost invisible but still there.

"You are much larger than I thought you were going to be," Harry stated suddenly as he observed the grey furred pooka. It was obvious that Pitch wasn't going to cause trouble so he saw no point in being helpful in this particular situation. Besides, there wasn't much he could do against the Nightmare King.

"Don't you know your myths? I'm a Pooka, mate," Aster told the younger spirit proudly, chest puffing out. Harry truly did hate feeling stupid but he couldn't say that he knew what a pooka was; in fact he never heard or read about such beings even when he was a normal human and Severus protected his library with the possessiveness of a Demon Hound.

"I thought you were a kangaroo," Jack added in, keeping his voice quite innocent despite knowing that no one believed the prankster to be anything but mischievous. Aster opened his mouth, obviously going to return with an unheated insult, but was stopped as North put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Now is not time for silly rivalry. Pitch is…" North stopped for a brief moment to think carefully on his next words. He knew that something was going on with the boogeyman, something that was so horrible that he decided to come to the North Pole. Yes, it must be something horribly serious if he decided to come into this sharp light. He glanced over to the Sandman. He looked equally thoughtful, with his expressive brown eyes staring at the open door that his complete opposite had stormed through. Suddenly a heart appeared over his head and slowly but surely, North watched as the heart crumbled into nothingness. He glanced up at North and repeated the picture until North was nodding.

"Yes, Sandy, I believe that Pitch has been hurt, bad," North agreed with the round man. He turned to his fellow guardians, a determined look on his face. Aster felt his stomach drop to his feet and a groan erupted from his lips.

"No, no, no!" he growled, green eyes sparking. "I know that look North and I'm not helping that evil bastard! Nothing you say or do will never get me to help him. Not today, tomorrow or… or…" Bunny trailed off as the big man suddenly strode over and dropped his head slightly to whisper within his long ears. The six foot tall rabbit grew oddly silently and his eyes dulled for a brief moment before he shook his head. North smiled his old smile although Harry was sure that there was some kind of gleam in his eye.

"You like, yes?" North nodded eagerly.

"Fine, I'll help the bastard," Bunnymund grumbled as he folded his arms. After that, it was short work getting the other Guardians to agree. Even Sandy, with his obvious dislike for the black robed man was quick to jump on the bandwagon on helping their fellow spirit. Now, they just had to find him…

(**)

"Hello Old Friend," Pitch smiled bitterly up at the moon. It wasn't surprising that the other did not speak but he knew that he held the man's attention for the moment, "You are getting enjoyment from seeing me in pain, aren't you? I deserve to be hurt as I am hurting… don't you think so?"

If he spoke, Pitch knew that the other would deny his words vehemently but he also knew that, beyond a kinder spirit was one that happily danced on the grave of his enemy. While Pitch was not dead, he was in pain and that was good enough for most. Most wanted to see him in pain, wanted him weeping and crying in a lit corner so they wouldn't miss a single tear drop. But he wouldn't. Pitch refused to shed a tear because of that despicable bastard! He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing Pitch broken… he would see him angry.

"He believes that he can abandon me and then come back as though nothing happened," Pitch spat, clenching his fist. He wished to wrap them around a certain thin throat and shake him so hard that his brain would be knocked out of his ears. He wished to break bones and bite skin until all was left was a broken body. Until Severus's outside looked like Pitch's insides. However, deep under the anger and pain, deep inside his heart, Pitch also wished to ask him why. He needed to know the answer as to why he had been abandoned for nearly a century without a single word said to him.

"Hey, Pitch!" that idiot boy shouted from somewhere behind him. Pitch whirled around from his position on top of the globe and disappeared into a shadow, waiting within the shadows at the base of the globe to look at the Guardians. He was in no mood to fight and if these imbeciles chose now to pick a bone with him, he would be sure to unleash a terror like one that has never been seen.

"Pitch, we don't want to fight!" Toothiana called out, her eyes flitting around almost as fast as her jerky movements that honestly brought on headaches to anyone trying to track her. The other boy, the one that Pitch had never seen before today watched her with amused eyes. He was probably a new guardian; they were always adding those annoying little bastards so why wouldn't another one appear?

"Yeah, come out mate. We want to help," Bunnymund added in a voice that sounded reluctant but firm. Pitch raised a brow in question although they couldn't see him. Why would these idiots want to help him and how did they think they would help? He sneered at the thought that they'd want him to sit down for a little bonding moment between the seven of them. Not on his life.

"Moon + Light!" Sandy shouted silently in warning, his brown eyes scouring over the darkness. Pitch immediately understood him although he very well hated the round midget as he appeared in front of them, stepping out of the shadow that North cast thus landing in the midst of them. They all jumped away from him in shock, glares and scolding looks burned through his face.

"I do not need your help. I simply needed time to… think," Pitch lied expertly and smoothly.

"Yeah, mate, if that's true then why did you leave your lair? No thinking space in a palace?" Bunnymund sneered, folding his arms. He knew a lie when he was told one and there was one being told smack square in his face. The other spirit could at least have the decency to make a more believable lie like he had come there to antagonize them because he was bored.

"Oh go suck on an egg Aster," Pitch threw back not quite as nastily as he could have liked. Bunnymund muttered something under his breath that sounded like curses in his people's native language before forcing himself to calm down in the next second. He wouldn't be tricked into a fight.

"So, what did Severus do to you?" Harry piped up before anyone else could think of a way to get the boogeyman to confide in him. It was brazen and definitely not the way he should have gone about it if Pitch's lip curl and sudden killing aura was anything to go by. If looks could kill… well, Harry would be meeting Severus in a more unsavory way that was for sure.

"And who… are you?" he looked down his nose at the short spirit much like Severus would do. Harry puffed up, hating his height not for the first time. Excluding Sandy, he was the shortest among them and it really wasn't fair in his opinion.

"Name's Harry and I give people Second Chances at Life," the green eyed boy smiled with his chest puffed out a bit. In his normal life he wasn't much for the center of attention and he still wasn't but the gifts he gave people gave him a purpose and that made him extremely happy. Pitch rolled his eyes at such a silly ability then paused.

"I have never heard of you… when were you created?" Pitch inquired in a tone that was a bit friendlier. Harry paused and looked suspiciously at the man. It was possible that the robed man was going to make fun of how young he was but that was such a weak insult so it was unlikely.

"I came to almost eighty years ago, why?" Harry tilted his head. He was not sure what had happened from one second to the next. All that he was aware of was that the white haired Guardian, Jack Frost, was suddenly in front of him and repelling something dark and suppressing with his staff emitting a bright white light. Beyond the light, Harry could see Pitch and it was as if the man was completely different. He looked worse than angry, he allowed as though he not only wanted to kill Harry but he would enjoy every second of doing the deed.

"Pitch, stop!" he heard North shout and, like that, it was over. Jack was panting slightly and, like Pitch, this was a completely different person from five seconds ago. The Winter spirit looked absolutely deadly as though he were ready to lay his life on the line but would much rather beat Pitch over the head repeatedly before succumbing to death.

"I am… sorry but not in that I attacked the boy but because I allowed my emotions to take precedence," Pitch said stiffly, back straight and face blank. It might have something to do with the fact that he was being held in the strong arms of North while Bunny held a boomerang to his throat, Sandy wrapped his whips around the gray wrists and Tooth flitted high above, determination on her beautiful face. Yes, yes, that might actually be the reason.

"Heh, you know, it's no problem. I wasn't hurt and you weren't uh… I guess… I wasn't hurt," Harry trailed off weakly, trying to brush the whole incident off despite the fact that his heart was attempting to shoot right out of his chest. Seriously, that guy had some anger issues! He watched as Pitch seeped into a shadow, leaving the Guardians with nothing to hold and appeared under Tooth's shadow, his face and body language completely neutral once more as though he hadn't lost his mind for a brief moment and attempted to kill another spirit. Harry felt Jack stiffen in front of him and he didn't shift out of his defensive pose as though he didn't believe the calm expression in any way.

"We should start all over with gingerbread and hot chocolate, yes?" North boomed out, trying to set back the friendly fires that had burned in his friends when starting this expedition to help Pitch be happy (or as happy as a boogeyman can be without terrorizing people). Sandy had to decline, an image of beds appearing over his head excusing him from the little heartwarming get together.

"I'll be in in a second. I have to check on something," Harry called out and wandered around until he found the bathroom. It was an amazing room with shining lights, a huge mirror and granite sinks. Very nice but it was the mirror Harry wanted. He strode over to it and leaned forward, blowing hot breath onto the glass until it fogged up.

"42-42-564 whenever you want to knock on Death's door," he muttered the stupid rhyme under his breath. The mirror darkened for a brief moment as the 'phone' rang. Harry tapped his fingers on the sink as he waited then he found himself staring at a handsome man with rolling black flames sprouting from his scalp like wavy hair, falling onto his bare shoulders. He was rather muscular with sun kissed, olive skin and eyes that shone even brighter than the flames that he usually played with.

"Hello, Hades," Harry smiled, waving at the man.

"Harry, I told you that you could call me Sirius—I'm trying to be with the times, you know!" Sirius barked out a laugh. Harry shook his head at the fun man, not mentioning that Sirius wasn't exactly 'modern' and looked behind the much older spirit. It seemed as though he was in Death's meeting room with a few minions and some guy that Harry didn't recognize. The one that was missing, which was odd because he was the big boss of everything that happened in the 'Underworld', was Severus.

"Have you seen Severus?" Harry inquired curiously. He was actually worried for the old spirit despite how much the man tried his short nerves with his utter lack of emotions and care for other people. The man was a right bastard but still, he was his mentor for the most part and had showed Harry how to best do his job. He had blossomed under Severus's guide and now he could almost easily make his own helpers that made his work that much easier.

"I'm hurt that he's the reason you called," Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. Yeah, Sirius and Severus did not exactly get along. For some reason, despite being possibly the oldest spirit out there (it should have helped that they've been living together for most of Sirius' spiritual existence and it was believed that Severus had created Sirius), there was something about Sirius that brought out a more primal hatred from Severus and the same vice versa. It was as though Severus just couldn't stop himself from knocking some sense into his 'underling' in a more physical way while Sirius couldn't stand being under the 'slimy bastard'.

"Well, we had a fight and I just wanted to make sure he's alright," Harry admitted with a slight blush. They hadn't gotten into a fight since Harry's first day out in the world and that case had ended with Severus nearly blowing a vessel and a man dying without Severus' comfort.

"What did you guys fight about… he didn't hurt you did he!?" Sirius demanded immediately, remembering the frightened look Harry had come back with and the light red mark on his cheek from where Severus had slapped him. Sirius still didn't believe that Harry had attacked Severus first but the man was overprotective of him and thought of him as a godson of sorts so it wasn't just blind prejudice against Death.

"No, he didn't hurt me. I was angry because… well, I didn't make it in time. It was a little girl, Lila Pelekai. I saw her on the list and she was so young… so small. I thought I could make it," Harry whispered lightly. Sirius grew silent, obviously wanting to console him but at the same time knowing that the 'great greasy bat' had been correct in whatever he had said which had probably been along the lines of: Death waits for no one, not even second chances.

"Hey kiddo… I'm sorry," Sirius finally sighed. It wouldn't do any good to tell the younger spirit that he would one day get used to the deaths because it wasn't in Harry's nature or gifts to just get used to the deaths. He was meant to thwart and fight Death at every possible turn even if he lived with said spirit.

"It's okay. I just want to know where Severus is so I can see if he's okay. You know that he wouldn't tell us if he lost an arm," Harry tried to bring a bit of happiness into the conversation. Sirius huffed and folded his arms, face twisting in stubbornness but Harry could see that deep within the stormy eyes was a definite look of concern. Despite how often they fought and the nasty words they would spit to one another, Harry was fairly certain that they cared deeply about one another like brothers.

"I'll send a couple cronies to go looking for him. People die every second so he's bound to be out there getting in on the action. You know he's been out of the game for almost eighty years. I'll let you know if I find him and give him your concerns but I gotta go kiddo, see you later," Sirius assured him with a final wave before the image disappeared and Harry was staring at himself once more. The green eyed spirit bit his lip but there was nothing much he could do.

He should go back and join the others.

(**)

To Be Continued