I'd like to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed. I know I don't always reply, since I'm terribly socially awkward, and that when I do reply I tend to ramble, so sorry about that. I love you guys. And everyone else who faved/followed/read this far. It keeps me writing.

This happens after the storm Jack caused in Santa Claus


Jack let himself fall into the snow by his lake, exhausted. He never caused such a big storm before. It was draining. The anger he had been feeling for most of the month now had faded at last, leaving him feeling empty. He closed his eyes, ready to sleep all day. He knew that no children would come play outside today. They would be hard-pressed to even get out of their homes.

"Ah, there you are," a low, smooth voice said. "I wondered who was responsible for that storm. And on Christmas, too. North must not be pleased."

Jack opened his eyes and sat up, panic coursing through him. He clutched his staff tightly in his hands as he turned to face the speaker. The man behind him was tall and gaunt, with ashen skin and golden eyes. His lips stretched in a sinister smile. He looked like someone who would do a lot worse to him than putting him on the naughty list if Jack had displeased him.

He tightened his grip on his staff, even if he knew he could do little with it right now. He could not even stand without risking falling right back in the snow. A small part of him was still pleased that someone had just addressed him. The man was actually looking at him. Seeing him.

"Who are you?"

He is glad his voice did not shake. Maybe he could act like he remained sitting because he did not feel threatened and could not be bothered. Maybe the other would even believe it. The ashen smile widened at his question as the man took a step toward him. Jack had to fight the urge to scoot away.

"I'm Pitch Black. You may have heard of me as the Boogeyman."

"There's no such thing as the Boogeyman," he said, repeating words he often heard parents tell their children.

Pitch Black's features suddenly turned into a horrible grimace as rage filled his eyes. It lasted only a moment before he recovered his cool, but Jack could not help but flinch. The panic that had faded slightly at the polite conversation without immediate danger returned full force when Pitch kept approaching. Jack licked his lips nervously.

"So they all say. But they're wrong. But this isn't about me, Spirit of Winter, it's about you. Do you have a name?"

"I'm Jack Frost," he answered warily.

"There's no need to be afraid, Frost. I'm not here to fight you."

Jack hardly felt reassured. The sinister smile returned the man's lips.

"I'm quite impressed, really. Few could create such a storm. You have much potential, Jack Frost."

Pitch Black placed a hand on his shoulder as he reached him, smiling down at him. Jack wanted to smack that hand away with his staff, but he did not dare. He was not in any state to fight and could not risk angering the man. He could barely keep his eyes open.

"Ah, you're tired, of course. My apologizes. It was rude of me to come see you before you had a chance to rest. You should sleep, now."

Pitch gently pushed on his shoulder to make him lay back in the snow. Jack had no strength to fight it. His eyes closed against his will. He just had time to hear Pitch's last words before sleep took him.

"Winter is only beginning, after all."


I think Pitch would have seen Jack as a potential ally early on, before realizing he's more interested in snowball fights than causing death and despair and ruining Christmas. Then he lost interest in him until the movie.

Also, I've switched the first two chapters around, but I don't think it updated on the site yet(But it may have by the time this chapter shows up). I thought Who I am made a more fitting beginning than No Help Is Coming.