Hello.

I do not own ROTG….no matter how hard I wish I did.

Set just after the movie.

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It was about a week after Easter, and Jack finally had to leave his pond for colder climates.

He said good bye to Jamie and the other children, promising to come back to Burgess first next winter. So with one final dusting of frost he left the town. He flew towards northern Canada, yawning as he planned his route to the southern hemisphere.

In years past, he would often go and sleep in Alaska for about a week or two before heading to Antarctica. From there he would just go wherever the wind took him. But right now he needed to sleep; otherwise he might be having a nice, face-to-face chat with the sidewalk.

Jack only really got sleepy during the changing of the seasons. During which he could sleep for days on end. He did sleep occasionally during the full seasons, but those where normally just little naps here and there after he over excreted himself. Like after the Blizzard of '68. He had slept for three weeks after that.

It was not that Jack didn't like sleep. In fact he loved it. Heck, if he wanted to he would sleep for weeks, just to dream. He loved the dreams. In the beginning he couldn't dream of anything, instead he'd have dozens of horrific nightmares. He'd have to remember to thank Pitch for that, probably be sending him a frozen-nightmare thank you card.

But eventually, Sandy had found him and given him wonderful dreams of penguins and polar bears. Jack remembered he had a fondness for dreams of dolphins, though it wasn't about fifty years until he saw a real one. He laughed as he remembered how astonished he'd been when he saw them jumping through the waves.

He shook his head, remembering his silly antics as he'd flown around them. He was near Alaska now, and he was getting very tired. He was losing altitude rather fast as he saw the first snow covered town. He perked up at that and landed on a power line, instantly creating dozens of icicles that hung precariously off.

He smiled lazily and watched as a few children headed home, shivering and laughing as they walked. He giggled at them, and flicked his staff in their general direction. A thin sheet of black ice, much larger than Jack had intended for it to be formed. The children instantly slid across it, their arms pin-wheeling around them. He laughed with them as the smallest one fell.

For a moment, the tiny child looked like he was going to cry. But as the oldest- or that's what Jack assumed- stretched out their hand to help him up, he smiled. Jack smiled, too.

He found himself watching them walk home from his perch on the wire. He reached upwards and rubbed his eyes, trying to dispatch the sleepiness that clung to them. In doing so he lost his balance, and Jack soon found the world spinning around him as he yelped. In a last ditch attempt to cushion his fall, Jack flailed his staff wildly. The ground was covered in four feet of fluffy white snow instantly.

Jack landed in a pile of the stuff and just lay there for a moment, his eyes drooping closed. Perhaps he could just sleep here. He nodded to himself, a brilliant idea he told himself. He could sleep right there on the side of the road. He would have those kids walk past him every day while he slept. But he knew he couldn't.

Last time he'd stayed in a town while he slept had been a huge mistake. Winter moved around him, whether he wanted it to or not. In his slumber, his control over the season had slipped. As a result, the cold had taken on a life of its own and frozen the town sold. Dozens of people had fallen ill, and several more had even died. He did not want those events to reoccur, especially with his new found duties as a guardian.

Not wanting to send the town into a new ice age he stood, shaking his head. He leapt upwards and voted off of the power line, knocking off the all of the dangling icicles.

He propelled himself away from all civilization. Practically draining all energy he had left. Jack scanned the ground, trying to find somewhere to rest. On the horizon, he saw the vast blue ocean. He laughed bitterly at it.

He had tried sleeping on the water once, creating a large and flat plat form for him to sleep on. He'd floated around on it for days as he drifted around the world. When he awoke from his make-shift water bed it had been due to a horrendous screeching sound and hundreds of screams. His once thin floating island had transformed into an enormous ice berg, and he had sunk the Titanic.

He visibly shuddered at the memory but was too tired to really focus on it. He glanced across the desolate ground and saw a relatively fine spot to sleep. The instant he decided on it he fell from the sky in a rather ungraceful matter, colliding face first with the snow.

He grumbled at himself, pulling up to sit on his knees. He ran a hand over his face, whipping the snow from it. Smacked his lips together and stretched his arms upwards he yawned again. Then he scratched his head as he patted down some of the snow, forming a pillow. With one last look around him he gave a silent good night to the world around him before crashing downwards.

He clutched his staff to him like a teddy bear as he slept, curling into a small ball as the snow formed a blanket to cover him.

Jack slept without a hitch for a grand total of fifteen hours before a blackened tendril of luminous sand found its way into his mind. Then suddenly, he was at the Titanic again but something was wrong. His sister was there.

Jack screamed into the air of his dream, just as he had screamed during the event. He raced forward, trying to get to her, to help her. In his dream he flew to her, the people on the boat passing through him as they had when he had really tried to help them. He reached for his sister, who stood frozen amidst the chaos of the boat.

"Emmy," Jack said as he reached out to grab her, but she didn't notice him. She continued to stare out to sea, even as Jacks fingers slid through her thin arms. "Emma!"

She did not notice him; instead she walked over to the side of the deck, her face unmoving as she did so. Jack stared in horror as he watched his precious little sister stand up on the rail of the deck, her arms spread wide like she expected to fly. Then in one agonizingly slow step, she fell.

And Jack came tumbling after.

The tendril of blackened sand formed the horrifying pictures above Jack dormant head, his face contorted in fear. The immense amount of terror the boy was omitting was too good for Pitch to pass up. So suddenly the Nightmare King himself stood above Jack, observing the dream with mild curiosity.

"Well, well, well," Pitch said, leaning forward, "This is a treat. Wonderful job, Jack, creating such a terrifying dream for yourself. But I think I can do a bit better,"

With a sickening grin, Pitch tapped a long and bony finger against the creation, giving it new life as it shifted. Pitch leaned back, creating a shadow throne for him to watch. It wasn't everyday that a spirit had a nightmare, let alone a guardian. "This should be interesting,"

Jack watched in horror as he plunged into the frozen waters after his sister. He tossed in the water trying to find her, but couldn't. His lungs stung and he had to go up for air. He swam upwards and just as he reached up to grab the surface he felt something else. Instead of feeling the cold, bitter bite of the ocean air, he felt something else. A familiar, hauntingly cold and slick thing formed around his fingers. Ice.

No, no, no! Jack thought, Not again!

Jack pounded aimlessly against the ice, trying to break it. He knew it was futile, he knew how this scene played out. But that didn't stop him from trying. Pitch was on the edge of his seat.

Jack pressed his palms against the glass, trying to push it off. He was starting to see spots in front of his eyes. Jack was mentally and physically exhausted at this point and found that he just couldn't push any more. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, sucking in a long, deep breath of fridge water. He waited for the burning in his lungs that he had felt the first time. Nothing happened.

Confused, Jack opened his eyes, his mouth slightly agape. He found that he was still in the same spot, his face pressed against the ice. He tried to back away from it, but found he could not. The water seemed to have turned to jell-o around him. He looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. His fear was quickly fading into idle curiosity as he hung in the water; Pitch was losing interest as well.

Jack flung about, laughing as he bounced back into place against the ice. He paused for a moment. A kind of clomping sound was coming from somewhere. Jack looked about and then pressed his ear against the ice. It was definitely coming from the ice. Jack leaned back, then rubbed his arm against the ice, trying to clear it like you would a steamy window. In the dream world, it worked. The frosted ice transformed into crystal clear glass, allowing for Jack to see what was going on.

There, standing above the ice, was Emma. Jacks eyes widened in horror. She wasn't supposed to be here! He'd saved her; he knew he'd saved her.

"Emma!" Jack screamed again, pounding on the ice like a mad man. The only sound that came from his mouth was strangled gurgle as he tried to tell her to get back to shore, to get off the ice.

Jack's terror level sky rocketed, and Pitch looked upward. Then immediately wished he hadn't. A look of absolute horror passed across both his and Jack's faces as they watched, both unable to take their eyes away from the horrific scene.

It soon became ominously clear to the both of them that Jack's beloved little sister wasn't going to fall through the ice.

Instead, she held a thick noose in one of her tiny hands. Jack pounded against the ice all the harder and Pitch had a hand pressed against his wide eyed face. They both watched, horror-stricken, as Emma stepped up onto an invisible platform and placed the noose around her slim neck. Her small face was expressionless and her eyes where hollow as she looked downward, directly at the frantic Jack.

"Why did you leave me all alone?" Her ghostly voice floated across to Jack and Pitch, ripping into their hearts. She looked up from Jack and the small, onyx, sand version of her looked at Pitch, "Why?"

Then she stepped off.

Pitch and Jack screams molded into one as the watched in horror as Emma's slim body began to descend downwards. Pitch fell to his knees, clutching the sides of his head as he watched the nerve wracking scene play. Jack pounded against the ice, tears streaming out of his eyes in both the dream and his sleep. Emma's body continued to fall, and just as it was about to reach the end of the rope. Just as the boys expected to hear the sickening sound of her tiny neck snap, the scene erupted into a flashing light of brilliant gold.

Jack was no longer under the ice; instead he was standing in his old home. His mother and father were having dinner, and Emma and Jack sat with them. Jack turned his head and somehow the Guardians were there, too. All of them eating and laughing together.

Dream Jack smiled, and so did real Jack as he slept on.

Pitch continued to stare at the once horrifying sight. Still on his knees with his hands clasped over his ears. His lip trembled as he turned, his hands falling into his lap. Tears streamed down the Nightmare Kings wide eyed face. As he saw the man who had saved them both from seeing such a haunting sight he clenched his jaw and then squeezed his eyes tight as more tears fell down his face.

"Sandy," Was all Pitch could say, his expression turned to one of defeat as he stared ahead, out to the water, "Who was that?"

Sandy gave the man a sad smile, lifting a hand to his lips; he blew a hand full of his magical dream sand into Pitch's tear stricken. Instantly the man toppled over, fast asleep in the first dream he'd ever had since becoming immortal.

Sandy transported Pitch back to his lair, but made sure to keep the dream of the smiling little girl with dark hair in his thoughts. He returned to Jack, keeping the happy family together as best he could while the boy slept.

Unbeknown to all of them, was that one more figure had joined in at Jack's dinner table.

To Jack's subconscious, Pitch Black was currently carving the roast beef.

*0*0*0*

Well, I'm glad I got that out of my system.

I had to vent. I needed something sad and moody to help me. Sorry if it's not what you expected.

I've got a lot on my plate right now so I'm trying to update when I can. Which means mostly on weekends or if Jack gives me another snow day (please, please, please, please!), either way, I will update.

And yes, I've decided to call Jack's sister Emma. Also, I don't want to spoil the books for anyone, but the little girl Pitch dreamed of was his daughter. Jack's dream messed with him because he saw Emma as his daughter.