Fear…

Pain…

Panic…

Horror…

Heartbreak…

Despair…

Disbelief…

Confusion…

Fear…

Standing in the dark hallway, the only light coming from two of the bedrooms, Mrs Bennett was possessed by a range of emotions but fear was at the cusp of it all. Her heart was beating unbearably painfully against her chest, threatening to burst. She placed a shaking hand against her chest in a futile attempt to calm it. Her entire body was trembling like a lone leaf in a brisk wind and she placed her free hand against the doorframe, an attempt at steadying herself.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, more tears threatening to spill, and she stared unseeing into the empty bedroom where a few short hours earlier her daughter, her baby daughter, had been sleeping. Her chest constricted painfully, an unbearable weight on her chest and her staggered breath caught in her throat, a sob escaping her. She didn't understand. She just didn't understand.

Yellow tape crisscrossed the doorway, preventing her from entering.

Her child's – no, her children's rooms were crime scenes.

She hadn't just lost one of them. She had lost both.

She replayed the events in her mind. She had recalled them enough times now, having to go over ever detail with the police. She had come upstairs at half past ten to get ready for bed and had stopped to check on her children as she always did. She had opened Jamie's door and stepped inside. His bed was empty. At first she thought nothing of it, he might have gone to the bathroom, but no, that room was vacant. Maybe he was with Sophie. It was then as she entered her daughter's room that she realised something was wrong, very wrong. Sophie's bed was empty too.

Fresh tears fell from her eyes. She couldn't understand it. What had happened? Where were her children?

She had searched the house, repeatedly calling out their names. She had searched the garden, she had had Abby sniff for their scents but nothing. Her children had disappeared into the night like ghosts. Nothing had been touched. The windows were still closed and locked. The ruffled bed sheets and impressions on their pillows were the only indications that her children had been sleeping in their beds.

The police hadn't been any help. No signs of forced entry. The front and back doors along with the windows all lock. No evidence that the children had been taken from the house. But they also couldn't find them in the house either. It was a complete mystery to them. They had asked her if there was a chance that they'd wonder off on their own (no, there definitely wasn't) or if there was a chance their father had taken them. She had resisted the urge to scoff at that – she would have done had the circumstances been different, because she knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way their father would have taken them seeing as he lived on the other side of the country and hadn't bothered with them since the divorce. The officers made their notes and cordoned off their bedrooms, telling her a forensic team would be there in the morning and that the best thing for her to do was to sleep.

But she couldn't.

How was she supposed to sleep when her children were missing?

How was she supposed to do anything?

It had only been a few short hours (which had felt like an eternity) since she had realised they'd disappeared and the sun was slowly beginning to rise, streaks of faint gold beginning to taint the darkness, but she could already feel as if the light had gone from her life. Her children were gone and she felt empty, no happiness, no light. It had all vanished the second she realised that her children were gone, they were the lights of her life, the thing that kept her going, but those lights had been extinguished and she didn't know why. It was as if a shadow had encompassed the house and her along with it.

She sniffed loudly, wiping the falling, salty tears away with the back of her hand. Looking into Sophie's room, which was illuminated with the dull artificial light from the ceiling lights that the police officer had turned on and she couldn't bring herself to turn off – doing so would mean that her daughter was truly gone - a discarded blue rabbit toy with long floppy ears caught her eyes. She blinked. It was Sophie's favourite cuddly toy, a tatty thing the youngster had found at a yard sale a while ago and it was something she never went anywhere without. Her breath hitched in her throat, her hand clasping her chest tightly. She could barely breathe. That was it. That was how she knew. Sophie wouldn't have gone anywhere without him, which meant she hadn't gone willingly. Her damp eyes widened. Someone had come and snatched her children away. But why?

Her eyes still fixed on the toy, she heard the soft padding of feet and felt a wet nose nuzzle her leg. It was enough to set her off again, the tears falling freely and she sunk to the floor, one hand covering her mouth while the other gripped Abby's smooth fur. She tilted her head and buried it into the dog's fur, sobbing for the loss of her children.

What was she supposed to do without her children?

#

Jack stared around him in awe as he followed Tooth through the many hallways of the palace. Each hallway was decorated almost exactly as the last, with sparkling gold walls and high arched ceilings, each with intricate designs of what, when he had looked closer, appeared to be teeth and fairies, though there were subtle differences in the designs that he noticed. It was almost as if they were telling a story. The floors appeared to be made of a pearly, translucent marble and the way the light bounced off of it, reflecting a multitude of soft colours reminded him of Tooth's wings which he could see reflected on the surface and he made sure not to allow his frost to taint the beauty of the hallways.

The Tooth Fairy was a foot in front of him and was, to his great surprise, very quiet. Almost silent in fact and it troubled him. In all of the time that he had known her, she had never been this quiet. He had never been this far into the palace before and had expected her to be letting off a stream of facts about her home. But she wasn't and this made Jack wonder if her reassurances that she was alright earlier had been a lie. A frown crossed his pale lips. Why would she lie?

He paused, his footsteps ceasing. What had Pitch done to them?

Hearing Jack stop, Tooth turned, her eyes narrowed slightly with confusion. "Jack?" He didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the marble floor. She fluttered closer, worry etching through her. "Jack, are you alright?" She reached out and clasped his cold shoulder.

Jack's eyes snapped up, meeting hers. Ice blue and light amethyst gazed at each other, searching for answers, until Tooth suddenly blinked and Jack cleared his throat, thrown out of the trance. "What's going on?"

Tooth stared. "What?"

Jack's eyes fixed on hers once more. "What did he do?"

Tooth blinked, taken aback for a moment. A small smile crossed her face. "He? What are you talking about?" She let out a short laugh, one that didn't meet the sudden unnerved look in her eyes as she waved her other hand in an attempt to dismiss what he had said. Of course she knew exactly what he was talking about but she still couldn't bring herself to mention it. She didn't understand exactly what it was Pitch had done to her so how was she supposed to explain it to him?

Jack's eyes narrowed. She was lying, he could tell. He could see it in her eyes. Something wasn't right. "You know, Tooth," he replied, stepping forward, forcing her to fly back. He placed a hand on hers, the one that was gripping his shoulder. He felt her tense at his touch. "I can see it in your eyes, that there's something wrong. What did he do?"

In a flash her smile faded and she looked down. Stupid eyes, she thought. But she was surprised that he had noticed and she inwardly kicked herself for not having been her usual out-going self. Of course he's going to notice if you're not twittering away like usual. But how was she supposed to tell him what was going on, what it felt like inside? Whatever Pitch had done, it felt like it was eating away at her, consuming her. But would he understand? He didn't have this increasing feeling of… she didn't know what it was, building up inside of her like a fire. How could he understand? But then again, she needed to voice what she was feeling. She couldn't talk to the fairies, they wouldn't understand it, but she knew they were beginning to feel it; they were a part of her of course, even though she tried to hide it as much as she could, so they wouldn't become concerned and distracted. She couldn't, wouldn't, voice everything that was troubling her since some of it was to do with him, but maybe it would be good to talk to him about whatever it was Pitch had done.

"Tooth?"

His voice cut through her thoughts, his concern telling her that she had been silent for too long. "Not here," she murmured, her eyes not meeting his. She didn't want any of the fairies to overhear and panic.

"Okay," Jack hesitantly replied, not sure if this was a good thing or not. He began to remove his hand from on top of hers, but she quickly grasped it with the hand that had been touching his shoulder. He allowed her to lead him though the corridors; glad that she couldn't see the faint blue blush that had spread across his cheeks. Wait, why was he blushing? He shook his head. He seriously needed to talk to North or Sandy about what was going on with him. But that was for later, he had to focus on finding out what was wrong with Tooth and the others first.

The pair remained silent as they walked through the golden hallways of the palace. Jack wondered where she was taking him. He assumed that it must be somewhere important since they were walking deeper and deeper into the palace and they hadn't come across a mini fairy in a while. He wanted to ask but kept quiet. He would find out eventually.

And he was right.

A few short minutes later they arrived in front of a pair of large golden doors. Like the walls, there was an engraving on them and as Jack got closer, he realised that it was similar to Tooth's mural; her on one door flying above a group of children who were on the other, holding out their hands towards her. The engraving was really quite beautiful and painstakingly made, with each of her feathers carefully crafted into the door.

It really is something, Jack mused, looking up at it. He glanced over at Tooth who was looking at with admiration, a small, genuine smile on her lips as she placed a hand over her heart. "Are you alright?" he asked after she let out a heavy sigh.

She turned to him. "Yes," she replied. "It's just this room; it holds a lot of memories." Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

Jack nodded in response, his gaze resting back on the door. "Where are we?" Tooth's words filled him with even more curiosity.

"I'll show you." She placed her hand in the middle of the doors. The thin line where they met glowed as she removed her hand and flew back a couple of paces.

With abated breath, the two watched as the giant gold doors swung open, revealing a dark room.

Jack swallowed. This hadn't been what he had been expecting. He looked expectantly at Tooth flew over to him and picked up his hand, holding it between hers. "Come."

Swallowing down his nervousness, he allowed himself to be lead, knowing that there wouldn't be anything bad on the other side of the doors. He was in the Tooth Palace after all.

As soon as Tooth stepped over the threshold, the room was engulfed in a soft light and Jack couldn't stop the gasp that escaped his lips. He was in a cavernous room, the walls adorned with small wooden boxes. He looked around in awe. There were countless boxes reaching high up to the ceiling and far into the abyss of the room beyond his sight. "Where are we?"

Tooth stopped and turned to him. "This where all the teeth are kept of those that are no longer alive." She let go of his hand and flew over to one of the walls and placed her hand on one of the boxes tenderly.

The winter spirit watched her. No longer alive… So that's what she meant about the memories. He looked around. There must be billions… He shook his head. It was hard to believe that all of the teeth of so many people were all there. "Are yours here?" he asked. His voice was quiet but it echoed around the cavernous room.

Not facing him, she shook her head. "There wasn't anyone to collect mine."

"Oh." Jack looked away, suddenly embarrassed. Of course hers wouldn't be here, he chastised himself. She was – is – the first Tooth Fairy. "Sorry."

Tooth turned, her soft eyes fixing on him. Of course he wouldn't know. She didn't blame him for his question, it was an honest mistake to make and from his posture, she could tell that he was mentally kicking himself for the slip up. She flew over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Jack."

Jack lifted his head, blue meeting amethyst once more. He blinked, surprised at the gentleness in her eyes, no hint of anger at all but he could still the sadness in them.

"I forget that I had a life before…" She let out a sigh, her eyes quickly scanning her body. "This."

"What were you like before?" He instantly regretted the question as soon as it left his lips.

Tooth blinked and Jack noticed that the sadness in her eyes intensified, but she smiled at him. "Not now," she said lightly. "It's a long and unpleasant story."

Jack nodded, not wanting to press her for details hearing the distance in her voice. Her words cast a feeling of dread through him, one telling him that maybe it was a story that he didn't want to hear. He decided to change the subject somewhat. "So is this where my teeth were kept?"

This made Tooth smile. "You still have them don't you," she said, referring to the box that contained his baby teeth, the box that he kept hidden near the lake in Burgess.

His eyes twinkled as he smiled sheepishly at her. "I keep forgetting to return them."

She shook her head. "They're yours." She paused and let out a sigh. "I should have given them to you long ago, but… but I didn't know that you'd lost your memories. I should have, I am supposed to be the Guardian of Memories after all. I–"

"Tooth, it's alright," Jack told her firmly. They had had this conversation several times since and each time had reaffirmed the fact that he didn't blame her for that, how could he? She had kept them safe and that was what mattered in the end.

"But I–"

He placed his hand on top of hers, which was still clasping his shoulder and he was surprised to still feel warmth radiating from it and when she didn't flinch from his touch, he wondered whether or not she could actually feel his cold. "It's alright." His eyes fixed on hers, showing her that he meant it.

"I'm still sorry though," she said.

This made Jack smile at her determination but he knew that he would never blame her for any of it. "So how come your fairies don't come down here?"

"This room is important. I would rather take care of it myself," she replied, "especially after Pitch broke in here." She let out a shudder and Jack knew it was from the memory of that day rather than the cold. "He should never have… these memories… he had no right…" Her voice kept trailing off, her thoughts fusing together in her words and Jack understood why. The items in this room were sacred. Pitch should never have stolen them.

"Is that why you wanted to talk to me in here? Because the fairies won't disturb us?"

The Tooth Fairy paused, her wing beats faltering for the briefest of moments. She had forgotten why she had brought Jack down here, talking to him that pushed those feelings of uncertainty and doubt away, but the mentioning of Pitch's name suddenly brought those feelings back to the surface. She stumbled. She knew he was going to press for details again. "Yes. They won't disturb us while we're in here. They know better." A wave of nervousness coursed through her and she suddenly became aware of the fact that Jack's hand was on top of hers, which was still clasping his shoulder. She hadn't realised, hadn't sensed the cold and she quickly snapped her hand back, clasping her hands together as her cheeks turned red.

The sudden movement startled the young Guardian as he hadn't expected it. "Sorry," he murmured, assuming that the movement was due to his coldness, but she shook her head.

"It's alright."

Jack swallowed, a wave of tension flowing between the two. It was something he didn't like, whatever was going on, whatever was causing this was because of Pitch and he had to know what he had done. He had to fix it. His blue eyes were fixed on the fairy. "I need to know, Tooth. I need to know what he did."

Tooth's eyes instantly diverted from him. "It's nothing."

Jack frowned. Why was it that every time he brought up what Pitch had done back at the North Pole she brushed it off? Pitch had done something to the four of them and he had to know. Why wasn't she letting him in? "Pitch did something to you guys. I need to know Tooth."

"It's not important." How was she supposed to tell him that it felt like something was eating away at her, at her very core?

"Please Tooth," the winter spirit pleaded. "Let me help you."

Tooth looked at him, her eyes round. She had never heard him speak like that before, it almost unnerved her. He wasn't supposed to beg, it wasn't right. She bit her lower lip. Let me help you. He wanted to help her. He willingly wanted to help her overcome this darkness that was slowly consuming her. But still, she couldn't find herself to form those words. Jack took a step closer to her and she could feel his coldness through her feathers.

He reached out and placed an icy hand over her clasped ones and he was grateful for the fact that she didn't withdraw from him. "Tooth…" he implored.

Her amethyst eyes met his and she focused on their gentleness as she opened her mouth. "Cold," she whispered and for a moment Jack thought that she was referring to him until she continued. "I could feel a coldness in me. I could feel it in my mind, my heart, throughout my entire being. It wasn't like what I felt from you. No, it was different. There was no warmth behind it, it was just cold and empty but I could feel it spreading throughout my entire body like a fire – it still is." She shook her head. "It's weird. At times, like now when I'm talking to you, I don't feel it. I know its there, but I feel like me. But most of the time..." She shook her head once and continued to keep her eyes fixed on his, a way of keeping her steady. "It's like there's something on my soul, a shadow, something so dark that it just consumes everything. I tried to fight it, but it keeps spreading and I can feel it, digging deeper and deeper. It brings every bad and negative thought to the surface, every fear, making me doubt everything I know as it pushes everything else away. I can't think of anything good, because when I do…" She blinked hard. "It hurts Jack. It hurts."

Jack listened and he heard. He felt a heavy pang on his heart as he listened to her whispers. Without another word, he pulled Tooth into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. It was a gesture that surprised the two of them since touch was still something Jack wasn't overly keen on – small gestures such as the touch of a hand or shoulder were fine, but big acts like this… But it was Tooth and she needed it, he knew she needed it and as soon as she was in his arms, he knew he had made the right move – the action, Tooth in his arms, it felt right. Whatever Pitch had done, it sounded like he had made them loose focus and cast doubt over them, amplifying their fear. She needed to know that he was there and that he was there for her. He was going to fix this. He was going to make Pitch pay for what he had done to them, to her.

#

Flying across the starlit night sky in his golden airplane, a pair of aviator goggles resting atop his head, Sandy sighed heavily. He could feel that there was something wrong. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it felt as if there was something deep within him that wasn't right. He frowned and looked over the side of his plane at the many golden threads that were reaching into the homes far below him. He wrinkled his nose.

Why did he get the feeling that his dream sand wasn't doing its job?

It was a feeling that he had been getting all night along with getting the impression that something wasn't quite right deep inside of him. Usually he could feel the happiness that his dreams brought, the distractions of normal life, but tonight, for some reason, while he could still feel that happiness, it didn't feel as powerful as it usually it, almost as if there was something blocking them. He thought back to the moment when Pitch had touched him and the sudden hollowness he had felt deep within him before the Bogeyman had retracted his hand. He frowned once more. He hadn't had this feeling before, not ever, this feeling of doubt that he wasn't doing his job properly, that his dream sand wasn't as powerful as it should be. Was Pitch the cause of this? He shook his head. The Nightmare King couldn't be that powerful, could he? Was he powerful enough to send these sorts of feelings into a Guardian? He looked across at the silver moon. Is there something he isn't telling us, the Sandman wondered, since the Man in the Moon hadn't informed them of anything since before Pitch's return.

Sandy suddenly paused, a thought hitting him. Wait… was he the only one feeling like this? Pitch had touched the others well, well minus Jack, so could it be possible that they were going through something similar? If so, then was it all part of Pitch's plan? He adjusted his goggles over his eyes, turning his plane in the direction of the North Pole as he cast an enormous ball of golden sand, tossing it high into the sky, the dream threads descending from it, reaching the far corners of the land. Without looking back, the little Guardian tore across the skies towards his destination.

The sun was high in the sky as the oldest Guardian arrived at the North Pole, making the crisp, untouched snow and ice sparkle a multitude of colours with its golden glow. Flying into the Globe room, he circumferenced the giant sphere a few times, descending as he did so before leaping from the plane which exploded into millions of golden grains, landing perfectly onto the marbled floor, tossing away the goggles as he did so. He arms held up in a finishing move, he blinked as his eyes rested on North and Bunny and his arms fell quickly to his sides.

This is not what he had expected.

North was slumped in an overstuffed armchair next to a roaring fire, his head slumped to one side. Sandy squinted as he looked at the large Russian whose normally sparkling eyes appeared lifeless as they stared unseeing. The sight began to unnerve the small Guardian. He had expected to find the mighty Guardian ordering the yetis around in his determination to get things ready for Christmas not sitting down and staring into space. There were a couple of elves next to him, trying in vain to get North up.

Sandy turned his head to look at Bunny who was hunched in a corner surrounded by a multitude of half painted eggs. The Sandman tilted his head to one side, unsure as to what he was seeing; it looked as if the Easter Bunny had shrunk slightly but since the rabbit was sat on his haunches, he couldn't tell. He shook his head. If what he was seeing was right, then it defiantly wasn't good – Bunny had a tendency to shrink and revert back to a cute little rabbit when he lost hope and from the looks of it, that's where he was heading.

Forgetting his own insecurities, Sandy felt determination rise inside of him. He had to snap the other two Guardians out of whatever slump they had fallen in to.

Floating over to North, ignoring the two elves, one of whom was jumping up and down on the man's arm while the other tugged on his foot, he peered at his face and frowned. He tilted his head to one side as other Guardian remained unresponsive. Leaning back, he grabbed the elf that was still jumping on North's arm and shook him in front of his face so that the elf's hat jingled. North blinked and Sandy let out a sigh of relief. The elf pulling on North's foot stopped and lifted its head.

"Ah, Sandy…" North's voice came out as a monotone mumble. "It won't be ready. Nothing will be ready. Christmas… not far… not ready… no… thing…" His voice trailed off and Sandy's shoulders slumped while the elf in his hand looked crestfallen.

The other elf tugged on his hand and he looked down. The little elf looked up at him and shook its head sadly, the bell on its hat jingling with the movement, telling him that nobody seemed to be able to get through to the Russian. Sandy sighed and looked over at Bunny, who was still painting the eggs. That meant he wouldn't be able to get through to him either.

It looked as if Pitch had affected them as well – a lot, which meant Tooth was also affected. But Jack wasn't.

Sandy's face lit up, a light bulb appearing above his head. Jack was affected which meant that maybe the newest Guardian would be able to help him out. He paused, but where was Jack? If the youngest Guardian had come to the same conclusion as him, that Pitch had done something to them, then he would probably try to find out what, which meant that if he wasn't here, then he had to be with Tooth at her palace. He couldn't stop the small smile from crossing his face at that thought. Of course Jack would go there; he had begun to see the way the young spirit had started to look at her. He knew Jack had no idea why he kept shooting her glances, but seeing as they were the same looks Tooth would cast at him (and he knew exactly how she felt), it was pretty obvious. He shook his head, there would time for him to get the two of them together later. First he had to get the two of them back here and try and determine what exactly was going on.

He looked up at the Globe and his eyes widened. Some of the lights had disappeared. The Globe was still teeming with the lights of billions of believers, but some of them had gone out, he could sense it. Not due to age, no it was something different. It was like last time. Children were beginning to stop believing again. He cast his eyes up at the moon and the glimmer of a shadow that crossed the silvery surface told him all that he need to know.

He had to get Jack and Tooth back here as quickly as possible.

A/N: Credit for the beginning of this chapter goes to believeitornotimamom, whose story A Little Big Word inspired the scene which deals with the outcome of Mrs Bennett discovering that her children are missing. This is something I always wondered about since we never see or read about the impact it has on the parents when their children go missing or on adventures in these kinds of stories.