This is a sequel to To Hate Or Not To Hate. Actually, it's really more a sequel to my "Pitch shops at Ikea" comic. Speaking of which, there will be a comic version of this chapter. Eventually.


Jack found it abandoned on the curb. The poor thing looked so pitiful, just sitting there in front of its former home. He could almost imagine it staring up through the window, looking pleadingly at the people who had left it there, alone. Jack knew he must be going crazy, to feel sorry for a mattress.

It was a shame, really. It still looked new. Not one of those fancy modern mattresses that you could throw bowling balls on without waking the sleeper, but it was in good condition. An idea suddenly hit him. He knew of a bed in need of a mattress. He could give it a new home. He hoisted the large object over his head and, avoiding busier streets where something floating in the air would have been noticed even this late at night, he let the wind carry him to the woods.

The extra weight made the ride awkward at best as the wind could not easily carry a heavy object along with him and it was much harder to bounce off buildings and trees, not to mention having to hold his staff against his shoulder with his chin, but he made it. He crash-landed in front of the crooked black metal bed with a smile. He was rather happy with himself. Not only did he not let a perfectly good mattress go to waste, but the Boogeyman would finally have a proper bed to hide under. Maybe he would be a little less bitter. Jack could always hope.

He let the mattress slip from his head and fall in place on the bed. The twisted metal creaked menacingly, but it held on. But the mattress simply rested over the bed frame, the bed being too far from its intended shape to allow it to fall in place. Jack frowned. He pushed down on the it, trying to force it to fit between the boards. An ear shattering metallic sound made him wince. Then, the whole thing collapsed.

Jack stood there, staring at the mess of boards, bars and assorted bed pieces. Even through the mattress now covering it, he could still hear the echo of those that had fallen into the hole, their clanking sounds resonating inside the Boogeyman's lair. Jack swallowed. Pitch wouldn't be happy. When the mattress flew off of the entrance to hit a nearby tree, Jack instinctively ducked behind another tree. He did not want to be the first thing Pitch saw when he assessed the damages.

From his hiding place, he watched as Pitch's shadow slowly stretched out from the hole before pulling itself off the ground, turning into the Boogeyman himself. Pitch looked around with a blank expression that could either mean he was indifferent or furious. It was safer to bet on furious. Pitch slowly raised his eyes to the snowflakes now falling over the woods. Jack cursed himself. It tended to snow when he got nervous.

"Frost. What did you do to my bed."

"I, er, I brought you a mattress," he said, peeking from behind the tree. "Your bed isn't very solid. Wasn't."

"It would have been fine if you had minded your own business and left it alone."

"Oh, come on! It wouldn't have survived the first storm."

Pitch picked up a metal bar and threw it at him. Jack ducked back behind the tree trunk.

"Go away, Frost. Now."

Jack didn't protest. Standing around here wasn't going to fix this mess. He left the angry King of Nightmares to mourn his broken bed in peace. The winter spirit had some shopping to do.


He hoped this was the right one. It was hard to tell, the model did not really looked like Pitch's. It was all about how you decided to follow the instructions to assemble it, he supposed. Or whether or not you followed them at all. But surely that could not be too hard.

He settled next to Pitch's lair and took the pieces out of their box. Of the previous bed, nothing remained here but the mattress still leaning against the tree. The Boogeyman himself was nowhere to be seen. Jack hoped he could be done with this before he showed up. He tried to be as silent as he could, wincing at every clanking sound the metal pieces made.

One great thing about being a spirit is the ability to simply understand any language even if you had never heard or read it before, but that proved completely useless in trying to decipher the instruction booklet he found in the box. He understood the words well enough, he just did not have a clue on how to carry out what they were telling him to do. He looked up at the Moon, pleading for help.

"How do I do this? Help me!"

The Moon was no more willing to tell him how to assemble a bed than it had been to tell him the reason of his existence. It merely watched him, inscrutable, as he failed to accomplish this simple task.

"You're a lousy parent, you know that?"

"What did you expect, Frost? For the Moon to come down from the sky to teach you how to put together furniture?"

Pitch's voice startled him so much that he dropped Rod C back into the pile of other rods. The Boogeyman stood next to the hole in the ground with his arms crossed, staring at him with something between anger, disgust, amusement and curiosity. The last two were slightly encouraging. Jack gave him a nervous smile.

"Nah. I think the Man in the Moon doesn't know how to do this either. These things just make no sense."

A small smile played at the edges of Pitch's mouth for half a second before it turned into a scowl.

"What are you doing here, Frost?"

"Making you a new bed, since I broke the last one."

Pitch looked at a loss of what to answer, as if he had not expected such a straightforward answer. Jack turned his attention back to the instruction booklet, picking Rod C back up. Or was this Rod D? He looked several times between it and the page in front of him, shaking his head.

"Too hard for you, Frost?"

"I can do this."

Pitch smirked this time, highly amused at seeing him fail. He walked to the mattress and pulled it off of the tree, letting it fall to the ground before sitting on it. He crossed his long legs and settled down to watch. It made Jack's job a lot harder. Every time he tried to put two piece together, he was acutely aware of his audience judging him, snorting whenever it did not fit, making snarky comment when he spent too long without successfully following a step. It took most of the night to put the damned thing together. But, finally, it was done.

He stood back proudly taking a moment to look at his accomplishment. Then, he pushed the bed back in its place over the entrance to Pitch's lair. The Boogeyman stood and wandered over, gazing at it with a critical frown. The bed looked exactly like it was supposed to, like the model in the store had. To prove it was solid, Jack went to pick up the mattress and pulled it in place, then he jumped on the bed a few times before Pitch shooed him off. The other spirit crossed his arms and turned his back to him and the new bed.

"I liked the old one better. It was more worthy to guard the entrance of the Boogeyman's lair."

Jack sighed.

"Sorry. I tried. I'll just... go back to my lake, then."

He left with his eyes trained on the ground, saddened that he hadn't been able to do any good after all.


Pitch stood there staring at the new bed long after the Guardian of Fun had left. He was not in a hurry to return to his lair. There was nothing to do there, after all. He sat on the edge of the bed, then laid down. It wasn't like he had anything else to do. He might as well test this stupid thing. It held his weight, something the old one wouldn't have done. He laid there until the morning came, simply enjoying the quiet of the night and observing the stars like he hadn't taken the time to do in a long time.

From that starry sky above, the Moon shone down on him. And Pitch didn't even care.


I'd like to say to everyone who send suggestion/requests that I do note them down, but it can take me a while to get to them. I just write whatever inspire me most at any given time, so some stuff can stay on my list for a long time before I get to it, especially if I'm not sure how to do it. So don't give up hope if it looks like I won't do your suggestion, I might just be taking forever. And feel free to send more. The more ideas, the easier it is o actually write something.

In other news, I'll try to go back to adult Jamie this week-end. And I may or may not answer the "Does Sophie still believe" question soon. If I can get around to it. I have way to many things to do, so I procrastinate instead. And write silly chapters about Ikea beds.