Jack's never seen him like this.
Pitch is hardly recognizable now, there's nothing but a mass of ink black and thousands of sharp-toothed mouths screaming his name, yellow eyes burning through black and writhing in the shadows that hint at other creatures clawing and squirming. Jack has seen Pitch turn into a mass of shadow before; he's watched him melt into something amorphous and swirling and dark.
But this is different. It has weight and form in a way that Pitch's normal shadow never did. It has a density and a thickness in places that hint at a tall slim form that shifts with every slide of shadow. Jack can't even look at it for too long without his eyes hurting because he can't figure out HOW he's seeing the shift. There is no lighter or darker, there's just blackness, eyes, and more blackness.
"This was such a bad idea." He says weakly. Even Tooth looks horrified and Jack had thought she would be used to displays like this.
"Jack, stay back here. You've done enough, let me take care of this." She looks so earnest and worried, and Jack feels something in his chest tighten and twist at the look in her eyes.
He's almost tempted, for a heartbeat, to nod and agree to whatever she says. To let her take over and then go wherever she wants. She has no reason to look at him like that, they only just met and she was holding a sword to his throat not two hours ago.
He swallows thickly and can't look away from how worried she is about him. He doesn't know what to even BEGIN to think about it.
"You've been really nice to me...I don't get it." She smiles then and reaches for him, putting a small hand on his shoulder.
"You're not a bad guy Jack! You don't-"
A scream tears the air like nails over stone and they both yank away to cover their ears.
Pitch's shadows are shrinking in, sliding over bright stone and slithering up into something condensed and solid until he's standing in his own form again.
Jack has a feeling that this isn't a sign that Pitch has calmed down. Every bit of him is solid black except for the acid yellow of his eyes gleaming right at Jack.
He's also standing stone still, scythe gripped tight in one hand, and that isn't normal. Pitch is movement and nonstop pacing and hand waving and barely contained energy. But now he looks like something carved from flat black rock. It's not natural and Jack knows that it is not good; so, so not good.
The last echoes of the scream die out and what's left is...nothing. There's no sound but the wind in Jack's ears and the whispering of the swarming Nightmares that are all that stand between him and Pitch. It's a clawing, heavy silence that feels like nails raking up Jack's spine and heat blasting against his face.
His breath stops for a second where he SWEARS he can feel red hot blades sliding over his skin and drawing blood from a thousand points.
He tightens the grip on his staff, buries himself in the feel of the cold against his hands until the heat on his flesh goes away and he can breathe again.
"I think I preferred the screaming..." He says with a shaky laugh.
He can't look away though. Honestly he never would have thought that Pitch would react like this. He expected the screaming, expected more of the sort of yelling and abuse he got back when this all started. Jack came here expecting Pitch to either be throwing a fit or to have already written him off as not worth it.
But Pitch isn't even looking at Tooth, he isn't looking at the wall of teeth he came here for, he's still and quiet and nothing but focused rage all aimed at Jack.
And Jack is more confused by that than he was by Tooth's concern.
His eyes glance over to where Tooth is, and she looks far less uncertain than he feels. Her face is pale, but her feathers are all but glowing and her sword gleams in the light as she adjusts her grip.
She's radiant in her rage, strong and confident in her belief. Jack can't understand that, he can't wrap his head around someone so believed in that they could form an entire palace like this from their belief. Someone so believed in and confident that they don't even flinch in front of something like Pitch.
But even though it confuses him, Pitch's rage is something he can understand. It's a desperate cry and scream against loneliness that sounds like the way the winter wind would howl when Jack tried to block out the sounds of the world.
The bright golden flash of Tooth's blade catches his eye again and he stares at it. All she sees is an interloper; maybe assumes that Pitch is just up to some scheme to rule the world again.
She couldn't understand that crushing feeling that comes when someone phases through you. She never had her insides torn out by a child who couldn't see her.
She would dive in with her brilliant sword and blinding belief and not understand anything.
She must feel his gaze because she glances over, catches his eye and gives him an encouraging smile.
"Don't worry Jack, I can take care of this." He just stares wide eyed. He knows that. He knows she'll take care of it. That's kind of the problem.
He grips his staff tight and swallows, not knowing what to do or what to say and Tooth must see something in his face because her smile softens into something gentle and comforting. "I just want to say...thanks. You did the right thing, Jack."
He feels sick and something like guilt twists in his chest. He knows he did the right thing, but he doesn't want to see her smiling at him like that right now.
Wood creaks under his hands as he changes his grip just slightly. "Yeah...I...um...I'm sorry."
She frowns, feathers in her forehead ruffling in confusion and he uses that moment to swing with all his might. The staff doesn't hit her but the wind it makes slams into her like a wall, sending her tumbling through the air with a startled cry.
Jack winces but doesn't give her time to recover and come zipping back with that sword of hers. He grits his teeth and concentrates, pushing the wind into a whirling wall that keeps her out where she is now. He can hear faint traces of her enraged yelling over the howling of the air.
"Sorry!" He says again, even though there's no chance she can hear him, "I just...I need to do something and you're there with that sword! It would be distracting!"
The wind may be whipping in his ears but he still catches the shift in the underlying silence. It dulls, becomes slightly less dangerous and menacing.
Jack turns and jumps when he sees that the Nightmares have stopped their swarming and are now watching him with interest as they drift. Down below, Pitch has lightened to his normal self, eyes still on Jack, though now they're narrowed into a perplexed frown.
Jack drifts down slowly, eyeing the scythe while Pitch eyes him. After all the tension and drama before everything just seems...awkward now. He lands carefully a little distance from where Pitch is, and they consider each other for a long moment.
"Have you changed your mind?" Pitch finally asks. He sounds cautious and he looks...not quite hopeful, but something very close to it. Jack feels another guilty twist at how earnest Pitch looks, he really wants people to stop looking at him with so much expectation.
"No...I just wante-" he never gets to say WHAT he wanted because he has to duck the scythe that comes slicing towards his midsection. Apparently Pitch only heard the 'no' part and disregarded anything else.
"Pitch! Sto-AH!" He goes rolling when the wicked point of the long blade buries itself into the ground where he was crouched. Pitch doesn't even try to pull it from the stone and just lets it fade into shadow again as he gathers thick darkness into his palms.
"You should have just stayed away Jack!" He snarls, throwing something sharp and infinitely black at Jack, who smacks it away with his staff as he jumps back. "You made your choice and should have known better than to show your face here!"
Jack huffs in irritation as he dodges another projectile. "I didn't choose anything! I-" He yelps when one of Pitch's throws nearly takes off his head and that is IT!
Ice crackles along wood and Jack yells when he launches at Pitch, managing to knock him back a few paces with a blast that leaves the air around them filled with powdered ice. Pitch bounces back almost immediately, the shadows swirling around him and flying towards Jack.
"We could have had this!" He yells, pulling the scythe out again when Jack manages to dodge all of his shadows. "We could have had the world and you DARE come back here after telling me no!? You dared to come back with her and think I would just chit chat with you!?"
Jack flies in every direction, throwing ice and wind at Pitch while knocking the wide blade aside with his staff. "I didn't choose anything! I didn't choose them and I didn't choose to leave! But I'm not going to just sit around while you ruin everything!"
"I'm doing what I have to do! I'll do what it takes to survive!" Pitch leaps at him and Jack has to throw up his staff to block the scythe coming down on him. He thinks, almost hysterically, that it's a small miracle that the wood didn't snap under the weight. Pitch snarls and bears down on him, eyes blazing. "You wouldn't understand, you simple minded child! You have no idea what it's like!"
Jack snarls back at him, nearly shaking in frustration as he hollers back. "Yes I do! You old moron!" He finally throws Pitch off and leaps into the air, yelling wordlessly as he blasts ice at him as hard as he can. He actually manages a hit this time and pins Pitch to the tower with a thick coat of ice over one of his hands.
Jack lands down on the walkway again, hands balling into fists as he fights the urge to go over and just grab Pitch by the shoulders and shake him until he stops being an idiot. "I understand! I know why you're doing this but that doesn't mean I agree with it!"
Pitch bares his teeth, trying to tug his hand away, "You can't possibly have an idea-"
"It's like they're ripping my insides out! Every time someone walks through me it's like they've punched through and left me hollow and everything is hot and empty because they took it all with them!" He can feel himself shaking again, breath catching in his throat because he can FEEL it. He can't think of that feeling without it sinking in and digging his chest out. He can feel the rage trickling away in the wake of that memory.
"And they always just...keep walking. They smile or laugh or keep doing whatever they were doing while you try to figure out where your lungs went and try to get your heart to start beating again."
Pitch goes completely still again, eyes wide as he stares at Jack with something akin to horror. "You-"
"That's one of my earliest memories." Jack continues, he doesn't even want to keep talking but can't stop now. "I...I had gone to a village because I wanted to, I don't know, show off. I didn't know who I was really but I somehow knew that people would like my frost and my snow. And I went to ask a little kid where I was and they...they just tore right through me. No one could see me or hear me no matter how much I yelled at them."
He has to stop and take a deep breath, he needs to stop entirely. Pitch is silent still and that is never a good sign. But it's like something got ripped open and Jack can't stop everything from flooding out now. "And you keep trying...you keep trying as hard as you can to make them see you. Even if it never works you can't stop trying and you just...pull all the stops. Make things amazing and loud and wonderful and all but write your name in front of them and nothing ever works. And sometimes all you can do is scream in front of them but that doesn't work either. All it does is make more wind and they'll just go right through laughing about how cold it is. It didn't matter what I did, no one saw me."
Jack can feel his hands shaking and grips his staff tighter to try and make it stop. Pitch looks like he's being gutted. He looks raw and torn open and he shouldn't look like that. It's like Jack is torturing him. But still hangs on to every word.
"You saw me though." Jack says quietly. "I mean, you didn't pay too much attention to me. But you talked to me. You gave me more than anyone else ever had." He looks down at his staff, digs his nails nervously into the grooves so he doesn't have to see Pitch's face.
"I didn't get why you let me follow you around all the time. I get it now though. I got it when I saw someone walk through you and your face looked the same way I always felt. You were right I guess, you never do get used to it."
"And you were right earlier," Jack adds, tensing and frowning down at the grooves of his staff, not at Pitch though. Pitch is still being too quiet and Jack doesn't want to look at him. "I don't know what real belief feels like. But some kids see me now. Some of them tell stories about me and it's because you helped me. It's not the power you had, it's not the world believing in you. But you helped me get just a little bit of that. And you don't have any of that either now."
He does look up then and Pitch is...deflated. He's leaning back against the wall and seems to have forgotten about his hand trapped under the ice. Pitch is looking at Jack like he's something new and terrible that he can't take his eyes away from.
Jack makes himself look Pitch in the eyes, grips his staff tight in one shaking hand while he stares him down. "And it's because of stuff like this that you don't have that anymore. You keep trying for big things like this because you think you have to rule everything or have nothing! But they're just going to knock you down lower than you are now if you do this! Even if you did somehow get the power to beat them the Old Man would probably just make more like he's done before! You said it yourself! Every time you almost get your power back he just calls a new Guardian to go against you!"
Pitch looks away first, slowly letting out a tight sigh as he looks over at his pinned hand. Jack tenses as Pitch's shadows gather in and break the ice but Pitch only pulls away and carefully rubs the numbness away with his other hand while he frowns.
"You would have me do nothing then?" He finally says, still looking down at his hands. "I'm far past that Jack. You have your belief, however small, but imagine that being taken from you. Slow enough that you wouldn't notice at first but it doesn't end. It's a thin thread that's unraveling faster than you can keep track of. I'm close to the end of my thread and I…I fear oblivion if I don't do something to get it back quickly. I don't have the time to just hope things will become better." He looks up then, eyes hard, "Hope is not what I do."
Jack takes a hesitant step towards him, "I'm not saying you have to do nothing! But you said earlier, that you were willing to wait centuries to get enough Nightmares to try and steal all the teeth. Why can't you just…work with that time differently? You think you have to get it all back now but the world doesn't work on huge terrors anymore. They think different, people have less room for magic now. You can work on smaller stuff! Learn how people fear in the little things and work yourself into them! You've started doing that so keep going! There are already new stories about us. It's small and not what you had but it's something! And you can build on that! You don't have to take it all at once Pitch!"
Pitch's shoulders sag and he looks away again, absently rubbing his hands together still. "I don't know if I can do that, Jack."
"Let me help! I mean, I figured out that it was the small things that worked, not the screaming in faces." He gives a small, hesitant smile, "Maybe I could show you a few tricks."
Pitch's head jerks up to fix an odd stare on Jack and his hands clench. Jack can't even begin to read his expression, it's something stark and intense and hungry and torn. They both stay like that for a few tense heartbeats and Jack takes another careful step, stopping when Pitch takes a quick step back.
"Pitch, c'mon, I really think-" Pitch flinches like he's been struck and throws a hand up to silence him, looking away with a frown again. Jack grips his staff tight, feeling jittery and out of place in his own skin.
He's not used to Pitch being this quiet, this unreadable and closed off. It's frustrating and makes Jack want to just throw something at him to make him react somehow.
He glowers and goes to take another step, but he's stopped by the rushing and screaming of Nightmares this time. They almost knock him from his feet as they rush past him to their master. Swirling around him into a dense cloud of shadow and it takes Jack a few seconds to realize what's going on. He nearly does actually throw his staff then.
"Hey! You can't just leave!" Pitch turns, gives Jack a long look over his shoulder, then grabs the mane of one of the Nightmares. The shadow moves in around him, whipping him away into the swarm. Before Jack can say anything they fly up into the air, dwindling away into a wisp of darkness while he stares in disbelief.
Jack stares up into where they vanished for several long moments in shock, mouth opening and closing as he tries to wrap his head around that nonsense.
"I can't believe he just did that!" He finally chucks his staff, wishing he had Pitch's head back here so he could bash it instead. "That stupid dramatic old moron!"
"Jack!" He jumps nearly a foot in the air and whips around, apparently he'd gotten distracted enough to forget to keep the wind going. Tooth is racing towards him, looking harried and clutching her sword. "Jack what did you do? Are you alright?"
"No!" He yells at first, before thinking about it, "I mean, yes! I'm fine! I don't know what I did ok?!" He storms over to his staff and snatches it up again, running is hands over the wood. He really doesn't want to talk to Toothiana, he wants to make a couple blizzards and maybe an ice storm. Preferably in some idiot's dark and dank hole of stupid.
"Jack, what happened here? Why did you-"
"Look!" He interrupts, "I don't want to talk right now ok? I mean, thanks for taking me here and I'm sorry for hitting you but you were all crazy with the sword! It was a lot of fun, except for the part where it really wasn't at all! That was probably the most-" He grabs at his hair, taking a deep breath and calming a little, "-exhausting thing I've been through actually. And I'm still not sure what happened. So yeah, thanks and all that. I gotta go."
"Jack!" She's angry now but the wind blocks her voice as he calls it to him. He wonders if he should say 'bye' but decides against it. Really he's done with talking for the next week at least. That was way too much talking. He never wanted to talk that much ever. Talking was supposed to be Pitch's thing.
The wind drowns out her demanding yelling as he soars up and away from the entire mess he and Pitch left.
There was no way he was going to let that idiot get away so easily.