August waited for the heavy door to shut, the noise echoing down the narrow, black hallway before speaking, "Feel at home, Pitch?"
"It lacks the nightmares." Pitch responded dryly.
August leaned on the bars, resting his head on them as if he we're the one imprisoned, "How have you been holding up lately?"
"Just dandy" Pitch looked at the wry spirit questioningly, "You were down here the whole time, weren't you?"
August smiled, "Couldn't help but over hear your nice conversation with Frost." He cocked his head like he normally does, "So... How personal is it?"
Pitch scoffed, "clearly not enough. If it was, you would be dead right now."
August chuckled, "See, this is why we have bars, to keep people like you in."
"Or people like you out" Pitch snapped.
"I see you got a bit rusty on your archery skills"
Pitch shrugged, "I'm more of a swordsman- then again, you would know."
"Ah, yes. Together we were practically unstoppable. Tell me; how many battles did we fight alongside each other? The monsters we slayed?"
"Too many to count" Pitch couldn't rub off that fleeting sense of nostalgia, of his life, or what he could remember, before he had become a king of shadows.
August sighed and a misty, distant look clouded his eyes, "I wish for the much simpler times, back when we really were friends. Seemed like I missed that train when we crossed into this new life, our friendship I mean"
"More like a train wreck. Remember, it wasn't me who ruined it" Pitch hissed.
"But it takes two to make a wreck."
"And that's just what you are, August, a wreck. Beneath that cool demeanor of yours, I know you're fucked."
August's features temporarily sharpened but he then relaxed. Pitch, however, didn't miss a second. Smiling he said tauntingly, "What? Am I getting under your skin? I never knew you were so sensitive. Wow" Pitch laughed, "How many lonely years have you spent? All wasted I'm sure; you're just taking up space. What a disappointment you are-"
"Shut up" August hissed so vehemently that Pitch was caught off guard, "You're forgetting who you're talking to."
"Last time I checked I was talking to only second in command."
August's features hardened and Pitch's smile broadened, "or is it just a bastard?"
"You're forgetting your place, Pitch."
Pitch's glee evaporated when August quickly opened the prison door, entered, and locked it behind him, "what are you doing?" He asked, panic rising as the ironic safety barrier had been crossed.
"You whip a dog to make it smart; and who ever said an old dog couldn't learn new tricks?"
The Gaurdians made their way to the mine shaft's door; they were going to inform Pitch that he was to be held captive until further notice. When opened, the group could hear the scuffing noise of a fight. There was grunting from being kicked and the smacking noise of fist hitting skin. North sprinted down the hallway with lantern in hand. At Pitch's cell, August held the now bleeding prisoner by the cuff of his jacket, fist in mid air ready for bruising. The spirit turned and froze at the sight of all five Guardians. He dropped Pitch who landed with a groan, "You..." He started with a shaky breath, "you would have done the same thing... If, if you heard what he said."
"Come." North said, holding out his hand and gently gesturing August to join the group, "You can't let him get to you like that."
August nodded with a false sense if weariness. Dragging himself to the corner, Pitch laughed desperately, "What a load of bull shit." He said through heavy breathing, watching the actor make his way across the stage, "you really believe this guy?"
Pitch looked up to see the disapproving, almost disgusted looks from the guardians, "come on, might." Bunny said, "Let's go patch yew up." the Guardians turned, leaving Pitch alone in the cold, dry, dusty blackness.