In Which the Guardians are Concerned, and Pitch Almost Kills EVERYONE.
((AN: So, just reminding you all, if you get confused. This AU is out of chronological order, which means that there are events mentioned in here that haven't been shown within the series yet. Not to worry, the whole "Tooth Palace Incident" will all be explained soon!))
Pitch stands by the skeletal bed that marks his home, staring silently into the pit.
Something is wrong. He can't say why, it's an itching under his skin, a gnawing feeling that's making the nightmares nostrils flare.
He ignores them and melts into the shadow. It's a slow trip down through the winding tunnels and he runs over every surface trying to find the cause of his unease.
It isn't until he reaches the main cavern that he figures it out.
The cages are hanging silently and not a sound echoes through the vast vaulted ceilings. The air is perfectly still. It hasn't been this completely and overwhelmingly quiet and calm since...
There's always at least a breeze here now. Even when Jack isn't here the wind is constantly playing through the labyrinth of bridges and walls because this is home. But the air is stifling and dead and if the wind isn't even here then Jack isn't just out.
He's gone.
One of the Nightmares snorts and Pitch sucks in a slow, steady breath, forcing down the clawing feeling rising up in his chest.
There's no REASON for Jack to leave, he reminds himself. Things have been...good. Very good actually.
It's been two years since the Tooth Palace. Two years since Jack slammed his staff down between them and told him No. Two years since Jack glared up at him with eyes like cracked ice and made Pitch really LOOK at him.
He hadn't been able to stop looking since. It was a year after that that looking stopped being enough and he finally grabbed Jack and kissed him hard enough to bruise. Held him and kept kissing him until the boy figured out that he was supposed to kiss Pitch back.
It was barely a week ago that Tooth had shown back up, having discovered that the little present Pitch had stolen for Jack was missing from her collection. It probably would have been a much shorter battle except Pitch had glanced up just in time to see Jack perched on the back of a Nightmare and whooping into the wind.
He had had to look twice because not only was Jack riding one of his Nightmares, but the Nightmare was actually allowing it.
And could anyone blame Pitch then, for stopping everything and calling Jack over? Jack, who then steered the creature towards him like he was BORN to it, like he was meant for this. No, no one could blame him for snatching HIS Jack down from HIS Nightmare and kissing every bit of breath from him right then and there for all to see.
They ended up getting so distracted that Jack had to lob the little gilded box back at the bird to stop the swarm of shrieking tiny featherballs from pecking them as they flew back to the lair. It had been worth it for the look of pure shock and horror on Tooth's face though. Pitch couldn't stop laughing for the rest of the day and couldn't keep himself from grabbing at Jack every five minutes. He may have technically lost that little skirmish but he had never felt so alive.
So, things had been good. So Jack shouldn't be gone.
With that in mind he sends his Nightmares out with an order to scour every damned inch of his home. There has to be a sign, a hint, SOMETHING to tell him what's happened. He follows his own path through the dark, keeping a hand along the wall to try and feel echoes of what the stone may have seen. Jack wouldn't leave. There's no reason for Jack to leave. Pitch was all he had! They believed in each other and he wouldn't LEAVE.
His hand suddenly hits cold and slick and wet and he comes to a stop so quickly that he nearly stumbles. Ice. There's a wide, halfhazard spatter of ice that's only recently begun to drip. Jack is usually more controlled, painting fine lace in frost or carefully laying just a thin enough layer of ice to make things slippery. This is a thick, uneven blotch that looks like it was thrown suddenly against the wall. It's the sort of sloppy work Jack tosses around only when he's fighting. When he's defending himself.
Pitch hisses and the shadows become heavy and thick. Jack didn't leave. Jack had been attacked. Jack had been STOLEN. Someone had come into his home and taken what belonged to HIM.
There's a flash of color in the corner of his eye, a small bit of brightness in all the dark and gray. Pitch turns, hand slowly pulling away from the ice as he steps towards the spot of…pink?
He can hear the shrieking of the Nightmares as their burning eyes begin to circle him, sensing his agitation. The shadows drag with him and walls fade away, melting into blackness as all of his attention narrows onto a single, leafless flower sprouting up from the stone.
"The Guardians!" He spits the title like a curse, crushing the flower beneath his foot as he breathes deep, controlled breaths. The head Nightmare approaches him, snorting softly and he runs his hand along her neck, voice the dry rasping of leaves on a tombstone.
"So, they really are determined to take everything away from me, aren't they?" He pulls himself onto the Nightmare's back with a whisper of shadow and grips the reigns so hard that his knuckles creak. Without another word the cloud of Nightmares bursts forward, shrieking their master's rage into the night. He doesn't need to steer them, only thinks of the destination and their off in a mass of swirling black.
The Warren.