Author's Note: Welcome back to the old readers and hello to the new ones! Sorry the update took so long, I've just been very busy with school work and such. Speaking of me being busy with school work, I'd just like you to know that this probably won't update quickly. I'm hoping to have the next update in February, but I can't make any solid 100% for sure promises.
I know the name for this chapter is cheesy, but I was honestly stuck. If you think of a better one, please let me know.
Also critique would be wonderful since I'm always hoping to improve. Thanks a bunch for reading and please enjoy the fic!
The cover art for this fanfiction was created for me by the wonderfully talented tumblr artist senoritasquidney. You can view a larger version of the picture and more of her lovely art at
Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians or any of its creative properties. _
Chapter Two: Relating With the Devil
Jack leaned against the light post smiling to himself as he watching the children below play in the freshly fallen snow. Jack thought there was absolutely nothing better than a snow day. There was no sound better than the giddy shrieks of a snowball fight, or a feeling more exhilarating than sledding down an icy hill. This is exactly what he needed.
Ever since the nightmare he had had a few nights ago Jack tried to keep himself occupied. He had busied himself by making twice as many snow days, visiting Jamie more often, and even helping out his guardian friends. Jack did anything to keep himself busy. Anything to not think about that nightmare. Jack shook his head not liking where his thought process was going. He then jumped down from his resting spot in favor of running over to where all of the others were playing to join in on the fun. For the rest of the day he frolicked in the snow with his new friends, laughing and throwing snowballs, wishing that moments like these would just last forever.
Though, the time with the children didn't last forever. As the sun began to set, and the sky grew dark, children's parents called them in for supper. This was Jack's least favorite part of the day. It was when the world went quiet, and sitting still for too long could easily lull you to sleep, but Jack couldn't fall asleep. He was afraid that if he fell into slumber he would get another nightmare, and if he got another nightmare he would have to face Pitch again. Jack knew meeting pitch again would only make more uncomfortable thoughts arise in his mind.
The feelings the nightmare had evoked confused him. These feelings took his clean and solid notions of black and white, and then mixed them into a grey sludge of uncertainty. It wasn't simple fear, no Jack could handle that. Fear was an extinct he could overcome, a challenge to be met. He treated it as a battle, good versus evil. He could defeat his fear like any other foe, and move one. This was much deeper. It tugged at his mind, making him question the things he thought were solid and unquestionably true, such as the fact that Pitch was evil. Jack knew Pitch was evil. Pitch had tried to destroy the Guardians and gained power from instilling fear in the children of the world. What was pulling at Jack's mind was the question of was entirely Pitch's fault? Jack knew he spread nightmares, but that's what he was created to do. Would you call a shark evil for killing its meal? He did try to destroy the Guardians, and that held no excuse, but Jack couldn't help but sympathize a little with the darker spirit. He knew what it was like to be lonely and unseen, wanting nothing more than to be believed in, and noticed. This scared him the most. He didn't want to think he or Pitch shared anything in common. Pitch was supposed to be the bad guy, and he the hero, plain and simple, black and white.
In the middle of his thoughts Jack tumbled over himself, hitting the ground in a graceless manner. The days without sleep and packed with play were starting to take a toll on Jack's body. He managed to lift himself back up, but the weight of his body seemed much heavier than before. Growing weary of the struggle to transport himself from point A to point B, Jack sat himself under a large oak tree and stared up at the sky. It wasn't completely dark yet, so he decided it was alright if he rested for a minute. The feeling of the cool earth seemed to let his body melt into its soft hold, coaxing his muscles to relax. Jack let them do just that, causing the frost spirit to feel calmer than he had in days. His eyes began to feel heavy and sting with the feeling of tiredness. Although his subconscious argued otherwise Jack decided it wouldn't hurt if he let his eyes rest for a moment. And for just a moment Jack, closed his eyes, and sighed at the relief it brought.
As soon as Jack's eyes had closed he felt them reopened. Although the area around him was dark he felt no fear. He felt more refreshed than anything. Jack knew just letting himself rest for a bit would help him. Picking himself up off the ground with a self satisfied smile, he stretched himself out, letting his arms reach high towards the sky. It was then that Jack began to feel and eerie sense of déjà vu. It was when his arms reached up he noticed that he lacked the feeling of the wind tickling his sides, or when his eye met the sky he was not met with the moon's ever present gaze. The lack of these elements felt too familiar… it was then Jack really began to feel the darkness. The way it seemed to stare at him, waiting for Jack to turn around for it to pounce. Jack became highly defensive in his stance, leaning down warily to pick up his staff. Once the staff was safely in Jack's hold once more, he kept it safely in front of him, as though the thin piece of wood itself was enough to shield him against all that goes bump in the night. The hairs on the back of Jack's neck rose as he heard a low chuckle project from a figure forming out of the shadows in front of him.
"No need to be so defensive Jacky boy, I'm not going to bite you." Pitch finished with an almost teasing smirk.
This of course did nothing to calm Jack; in fact it only made his muscles tense up more and caused Jack to give Pitch a dark and skeptical look.
"What reason do I have to not be defensive around you?" Jack bit out in a coldly, matched with an equally icy glare.
"I really don't understand why you're acting so aggressive, Jack. I thought I made it clear last time we chatted that I just wanted to talk."
"Chatted? I think you mean when you invaded my dream and harassed me. Gee you're right that was a swell time indeed, no wonder we're now best friends!" Jack replied in a sarcastically enlightened tone. Despite the lively performance Jack had just given, Pitch was thoroughly un-amused.
"Don't be so melodramatic Jack, can you honestly tell me you would have given me even a chance to speak in any other circumstance?" Pitch asked out of Jack's sight. "Despite what you may believe I'm not the source of all dark thoughts and dreams." Jack felt the sensation of hot breath on the back of his neck, which caused him to jump and turn around rapidly "You're plenty capable of conjuring them up yourself." Pitch finished with a coy smile. Jack simply backed away from the other with a dark glare.
"You're a conjurer of many things Pitch, but so am I!" the younger spirit finished raising his staff as he shot a wave of ice at the Nightmare King. Pitch dodged the ice with ease, simply clicking his tongue.
Pitch then melded into the shadows around them, hiding himself from Jack's sight once more. "Temper temper Jack. I know why you strike out me, and it's not because of your anger…it's your fear. I can smell it." Pitch finished
"N-no I'm not!" Jack panicked, walking in a rushed circle and holding his staff in a defensive manner, ready to strike at Pitch again if it became necessary. His eyes darted around the darkness, searching for a figure he could not find.
"There's no use in lying to me Jack, if I know anything, it's the experience of fear." Jack couldn't see Pitch, but he could hear the painfully cocky grin in his voice. "How it smells before it rolls off of one's body like perspiration…" Pitches voice gained humility as he continued though "My knowledge comes not only from being the cause of it, but also from personal experience."
Jack didn't let his guard down, but mild curiosity was added to his current facial expression at this statement.
"Helpless, rejected, unwanted, and alone are all emotions that I share with the world. It's not pleasurable being the spirit of nightmares." Pitch's tone became more solemn as he continued "Children love the warmth and light of the day, but shy away from the dark of the night. They want dreams and hope and to wonder, not nightmares, not fear. I never asked to be this person, to lead this life."
Jack began to soften, sympathizing with Pitch's words. Although now Jack was beginning to gain all that he had desired, the feelings of isolation and desperation had not left his mind. All those years alone, the countless snowball fights he had started all in hope of getting any sort of attention. The amount of effort he put into trying to make someone laugh, only to have that laughter be forgotten faster than it had come. The seemingly endless stream nights, yelling at the moon until his lungs gave out. What hurt Jack more than the soreness of his throat was the fact that the moon never responded.
"Even though I realized this truth and understood it, I was just so angry, so bitter; the man on the moon had shoved this terrible fate on me and in return gave me nothing. In the past I at least had belief. While I was still hated at least they noticed me, but now I have nothing." Pitch's form began to reappear from out of the shadows, but it did not hold the same power as before. His body was limp and pleading in its movements. "Jack I don't want to be me. I don't want to be alone."
Pitch looked so weak, so vulnerable, but Jack couldn't help but hold onto his suspicions. "Why are you telling me all of this?" Jack asked.
"Because who else can I Jack? No one wants to hear the boogey man's story, I doubt even you do. Everyone gets lonely Jack and I am no exception. "
Pitch may be nasty, and even a little cruel, but he wasn't evil. He was just hurt. At this realization all of the pain from Jack's past rushed to him, making him remember his own bitter resentment he had towards his own existence not too long ago. These emotions caused Jack's eyes to soften towards the other, sympathizing with him.
Pitch looked warily at Jack as the frost spirit walked up to him. Jack's walking stopped right in front of Pitch. Pitch was expecting some sort of confrontation, yelling, screaming, hitting, but not this. Not for Jack's arms to fling around the taller spirit, holding him in a tight embrace. Pitch simply stood there for a minute, dumbfounded by the current situation. In any other situation Jack might have laughed at how Pitch's eyes resembled dinner plates and his how body tensed up, but Jack's eyes were squeezed shut as he embraced the older spirit. Pitch quickly got over his surprise and let his body melt as he hugged Jack back with as much gust as he had received.
They held onto each other like lifelines, grasps tight and needy. In each other's arms they felt as though they had both gained something they had been lacking for much too long. Like pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together, their bodies seemed to meld into one. Neither could say how long they stayed like that, but neither truly cared either. Jack greedily consumed Pitch's body heat by pressing their bodies' together. The foreign sensation sent sparks down his nerves, spreading the new found warmth all through his body. Pitch let out a soft sighed and buried his face in Jack's neck, deeply breathing in the distinct scent of Jack. Jack shivered at the feeling of Pitch's breath on his neck, and let his hands tangle into the back of Pitch's cloak. Pitch laid a light kiss on to Jack's pale neck eliciting a soft gasp from the white haired spirit. Pitch then moved his head up just enough as to stare into Jack's eyes.
Pitch and Jack stood captured in the quiet of their presence. They needed no words, for all that needed to be said was conveyed in the silence. Surprisingly it was then that Jack leaned forward and placed his lips on Pitch's. He couldn't explain why he did it, it just felt right. Unlike before Pitch, spent no time being shocked and instead returned the kiss with equal passion. This time the kiss was not as rushed and carnal as it was gentle and chaste. Their lips melded together in soft movements, conveying their need for one another. Pitch's arms slid down to the small of Jack's back. This caused Jack's mouth to open in a gasp and Pitch took advantage of this by letting his tongue slide into Jack's mouth. Jack groaned receiving the action happily. He then moved his tongue into Pitch's mouth experimentally, feeling his tongue stroke against the other one.
This sparked Pitch's desire anew. Pitch's movements became greedy and demanding as he deepened the kiss. Jack fell helplessly to the sensation groaning and clinging tightly to the taller spirit. Their bodies began to grind and soft pants were muffled by open mouthed kisses. Jack felt himself become lost in the feelings of warmth and need for the other. He moved his hand to grab onto Pitch's hair only to receive cool nothing.
Jack immediately opened his eyes and was met with the rising sun. He then sat up and looked around him. He was once again alone. All Jack could do for a minute was just sit there and let the feeling sink in. The spirit then picked up his staff and stood up. He stretched out his limbs with a frown etched onto his face. Even with a full night of sleep his body felt just as tired and groggy as before. Not knowing what else to do Jack sighed to himself and began walking once more.