13. A Touch of Fear

Jack raced after Pitch's retreating form. His flight wasn't nearly as fast as usual, considering he practically had to battle through a storm of small Fearlings. Mostly Jack could just swat them aside, occasionally letting his power go to wipe out the monsters that were too close to him. Steve Rogers was running and jumping from rooftop to rooftop below Jack, and Jack had to be genuinely impressed by the man's physical prowess. Steve could actually keep up with Jack at the moment, which was something no mortal had ever achieved.

Pitch glanced at Jack over his shoulder and melted into the nearest shadow. Jack pressed his arms to his sides and shot through the air as fast as the wind allowed. He definitely didn't want to lose Pitch now. The faster they took care of the man the better. Even if Pitch couldn't be killed, he could be de-powered just like any other spirit. At least he would stop his rampage if he was knocked around enough. Jack flew through the now empty shadow Pitch had disappeared into and landed on a roof. The uneven concrete scraped the soles of his feet, but he was so used to the feeling that he barely even noticed it. Jack held his staff at the ready, looking around and listening to possible sounds of lurking.

Steve leaped over the last gap between the houses and came to a stop in front of Jack. The man didn't even seem to be out of breath after running through half the city centre on rooftops. Steve looked around and then glanced at Jack questioningly.

"Did he hide into the shadows again?" Steve asked.

Jack nodded.

"He tends to do that. He's kind of a coward."

"That's a bit rude, don't you think, Jack?" a sinister voice hissed from the edge of the roof.

Jack and Steve spun around to face the shadow of a man who stood there. Pitch's eyes were gleaming dangerously and he took a step forward, a large nightmare sand -scythe taking shape in his hand. Jack aimed his staff at Pitch's chest and didn't waste time for any witty one-liners. Blue light shot from the staff, freezing a window behind Pitch when the Nightmare Kind dodged in one fluid motion. Jack didn't have time to shoot again, because Pitch swung his scythe and Jack had to jump over it. He flipped in the air, the wind carrying him an extra foot away from his enemy. Jack landed back on his feet and saw Steve throwing his shield at Pitch. The shield missed as well. Pitch was like liquid in his movements. Vile, most likely poisonous liquid. The Boogeyman slashed at Steve and Steve had to jump all the way back to the roof of the neighbouring building to not get hit. Jack moved out of the way of the scythe when the swing reached him and aimed a strike of his own at Pitch's head. His staff didn't make it all the way to the Boogeyman's thick skull before Pitch's hand stopped it. Shadow-clad fingers gripped the staff, and Jack was jerked forward to face Pitch's ominous sneer.

"Say, Jack," Pitch growled through shark-like teeth, "Do you know what I hate the most at the moment? Annoying, centuries old ice pixies, who just. Keep. Getting. In. My. Way!"

"That's very specific," Jack pointed out and jumped, swinging his leg over his trapped staff and kicking Pitch in the face.

The Nightmare King yelled in pain and stumbled backwards, letting go of the staff. Jack jumped back, getting some distance between him and Pitch, who looked extremely murderous even with the shimmering layer of frost coating his cheek at the spot where Jack's foot had connected.

"Although," Jack smirked, "I'm not a pixie."

Pitch responded by thrusting out his free hand and sending forth a wave of nightmare sand. It was a swift attack, but Pitch should know by now that it wouldn't be nearly quick enough to actually hit Jack. The wave of sand crashed violently against the wall of a skyscraper. The same skyscraper where Steve had landed and from where the man now jumped back into the fray. Captain America sprinted towards Pitch and aimed a punch at the man. Jack had to silently applaud the amount of guts Steve Rogers had. The man had just challenged the epitome of fear to a fistfight. It was a bit unbelievable, and undeniably awesome. So awesome that Jack almost forgot about the rest of the fight while watching the two men trade punches and in some cases strikes from a shield or a nightmare scythe. Jack was brought back to reality when a Fearling almost latched onto his head by its teeth. Jack recoiled from the little monster and bashed it into pieces with his staff, at the same time trying to keep an eye on Pitch, who was thankfully still busy in the vicious brawl against Captain America. Jack jumped into the wind and disposed of the other Fearlings that were trying to get to their master's aid and then spun quickly in the air when he heard the approaching hum that was a bit too mechanical to be Tooth. It was Tony Stark, whose suit had an impressive amount of scratches on it but who seemed remarkably okay even after a dozen-story drop and an abrupt date with the pavement.

"You alright?" Jack asked just in case.

Tony gave him a quick nod.

"Sure," he said, "The suit's very durable."

It certainly seemed to be. Jack turned his attention back to Pitch. The Boogeyman had just got punched in the face by Steve, something Jack frankly wouldn't have wanted to miss. Jack landed lightly back on the roof and aimed a shot of ice at Pitch now that the man wasn't so close to Steve any longer. Pitch dodged it, but only barely, his sharp teeth baring in anger. Pitch lashed out with his hand, his glare fixed on Jack. But instead of attacking Jack, the wave of nightmare sand shot at Steve, who jumped to the side at the last second. What Steve didn't have time to avoid was the large Fearling that leaped out of the shadows and at his back. The shout of warning died in Jack's throat when he realized it was too late and he instead broke into a run, charging to the man's aid. Steve was slammed against the roof, where he somehow managed to turn and grip the Fearling's deceptively slim arms and tried to wrestle himself free.

Tony was flying right behind Jack and Jack heard the by now familiar sound of the man firing a ray from his palm. It missed only because the Fearling chose just that moment to dart its head down and apparently tried to bite Steve's face off. Steve stopped it by shoving his elbow into what was probably the monster's face. And while this was going on, Pitch was almost leisurely strolling towards the downed man, readying his scythe.

Jack launched himself at Pitch, the wind aiding him in his leap. The crook of his staff crashed against Pitch's shoulder, knocking the man back and against the wall of the small rooftop entrance in the middle of their battlefield. The wall was brightly lit by the still functioning, lit advertisements nearby. There was little room for Pitch to retreat into shadows. Jack dared a lightning fast glimpse at Steve and saw that the man had managed to throw the Fearling off of him and was now fighting it and its a bit less impressive buddies with renewed vigour.

Pitch lifted his hand again, black sand swirling around his fingers. Jack slammed the butt of his staff against the man's palm and then swung the other end at Pitch's head. Pitch's scythe shattered.

"Tony!" Jack shouted, "Help Steve!"

"You okay there on your own?" was Tony's response.

Jack took a punch to the nose from Pitch but refused to back away. He needed to keep Pitch cornered while the others took care of the Fearlings that had now began to swarm the rooftop. He kneed Pitch in the stomach and then let go of his staff altogether, letting it fall to his feet and wrapping the toes of his left foot around it to keep his powers flowing properly without putting the staff at Pitch's reach. He used both hands to pin Pitch against the wall, his right forearm pressing against the Boogeyman's sickly grey throat.

"I'm fine!" Jack yelled, "Just take care of those Fearlings!"

He didn't see if Tony did as he said, but he just had to trust the man. Jack had to focus fully on struggling with Pitch, who was now clawing at the restraining arm to get himself free. Jack was fairly sure the man would succeed in that sooner or later. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't physically as strong as Pitch was, even if he had the more advantageous position and he actually had all his weight supported firmly against the roof. He punched Pitch in the solar plexus and let ice spread over the man, slowing down the man's struggles.

"Not very... heroic to go around strangling others," Pitch wheezed out, gripping Jack's arm into a death-grip and pushing it away enough to talk, "Especially seeing how... much you are afraid of that yourself."

"You really should just stop talking, Pitch," Jack snarled, "And I'm not afraid of that!"

Pitch twisted Jack's arm to the side and Jack gritted his teeth. He shifted his foot to make sure his staff wouldn't slip from between his toes, all while charging up his power into one attack that should be enough to at least incapacitate Pitch temporarily.

"But you are afraid of drowning," Pitch's voice broke through his concentration, "It's a shame there isn't much water around here."

Pitch used his free hand to grip Jack's collar and jerked him forward without much effort. Pitch's sharp-toothed smirk was suddenly far too close to Jack's face to his liking. But still he wouldn't move. If he did, Steve and Tony would be open for Pitch's attack. And the two men already had their hands full with the Fearlings.

"Do you think you are being a hero by trying to take me on empty-handed?" Pitch asked in a threatening tone, his teeth grinding together sickeningly with each forced syllable, "A brave little sacrifice to keep those people safe. The people who were so afraid of you just a little while ago. The people who only believed in you as a threat."

"I thought I told you to stop talking!" Jack practically spat the words out.

Sand was again gathering into Pitch's hand, forming something sharp. Jack acted fast; he slammed his palm against Pitch's chest and let an icy explosion send Pitch right through the wall the man had been pressed against. Power surged through Jack, feeling refreshingly cold in his veins. Pitch landed in a heap among the rubble that used to be the rooftop entrance.

Jack let the remaining energy he had readied for the attack dwindle back into his being so that he wouldn't exhaust himself too much just yet. The fight was far from over. He tried to take a deep breath, but realized with panic that he couldn't. When the adrenaline and charged-up magic wore off, sharp, burning pain assaulted his chest and he realized his legs had given out when his knees hit the roof painfully. Jack coughed and a coppery taste rushed into his mouth. He was almost afraid to look at the damage, but he knew he had to.

Just before being blasted away, Pitch had formed a simple black spike, which was now shoved deep into Jack's chest. Jack desperately tried to draw another hitched breath, but could only manage a feeble cough.

It's not fatal. You know it's not.

He tried to keep telling himself that even when he slumped onto his side and heard someone yell his name through the haze of panic. A strange feeling of wrongness spread through him.

You're immortal. It's not going to kill you. It's probably not even going to corrupt you. You just need to get it out, fast.

He needed to breathe.

No, you don't. You won't die.

The voice that was his common sense was finally silenced by the fact that he felt like he was drowning. This time, though, instead of icy water it was his own blood that filled his lungs.

He desperately clawed at the concrete, trying to reach for his staff. His vision was blurry, but he knew he wouldn't pass out. And oh, how he wished he could do that. Someone yelled again, but Jack couldn't tell who it was.

All he saw was a shadowy silhouette that got up unsteadily just before a blur of red and gold assaulted it.

Thor Odinson was sure he had never found himself fighting side by side with any of the Guardians before. He had known about them for a long time, sure, sometimes even interacted with them. But most of the time the Guardians had just left the Asgardians alone and vice versa. Now however, Thor had the chance to see these legendary protectors of childhood in action.

He stayed on the rooftops of the tall buildings, accompanied by Nicholas St. North, the man who brought presents to many children in the world every year. The man was truly a mighty warrior, using two sabres with impressive strength and speed. North had been a bandit once, and that cunning adaptiveness was mixed with a sharp, strategic eye and phenomenal accuracy with the strokes of his blade. It was refreshingly easy for Thor to fit his fighting style with that of North's into smooth teamwork. It didn't take long before Fearlings were falling left and right.

Queen Toothiana stayed close to them as well. She commanded an army of her own. Her fairy warriors were very small, but also very fierce. They were everywhere on the battlefield, and they didn't hesitate tearing apart every monster that got into their way. The queen herself was the fiercest of them all. Her beautiful face was frozen into a look of stern concentration that was so unlike the gentleness she had expressed in the presence of her comrades. She flew from shadow to shadow with blinding speed and handled her swords with admirable grace. An iridescent Valkyrie from the East.

Thor lifted Mjölnir against a new group of shadows. They fell easily with just a couple of strokes. But there were many of them. No matter how many they struck down, the shadows' ranks didn't seem to be thinning. Thor threw Mjölnir through a black warhorse's flank and let his weapon then return to him. Behind him, North cleaved through a few more enemies and then raised his hand to greet a flash of grey that joined them on the rooftop.

"Where's that bloody tin can?"

It was Bunnymund, who had climbed and jumped along the walls all the way up. The great warrior, who could even travel through the currents of time itself. Thor wished he could chat with the Pooka a bit more later. Bunnymund would surely have a lot of tales to share.

"You mean Stark?" North asked when Bunnymund again asked for "the tin can".

"Ya bet I do," Bunnymund growled, "He was attacked by Pitch!"

"Where?" Thor asked immediately.

Bunnymund shrugged his furry shoulders.

"Frostbite and Rogers went after Pitch, I think. They'll need help."

North's eyes darkened.

"Indeed," he said, "We must try to locate him now. I feel something bad might happen."

Or had already happened. North waved at Toothiana, who nodded and sent her fairies out to an even wider area to look for their foe. Thor, North, and Bunnymund started battling their way towards where Bunnymund's heightened senses led them in search of Tony, Jokul, and Steve.

Steve had just finished off what was probably his eighth shadow when the sound of exploding metal and concrete made him look back to where Jack was fighting the Boogeyman. The shadow man was temporarily out of Steve's sight, but he could easily guess the man was in the middle of the pile of rubble that now sat on the roof. Then Steve's eyes fell on Jack, who let out a strange, strangled squeak of pain. Steve lifted his shield almost off-handedly to block a small shadow and tried to locate the source of Jack's evident discomfort. He saw it just before the boy slumped to the roof. A black spike protruded out of the boy's back and dark blood seeped into the blue hoodie.

"Jack!" Steve glanced at Tony, who had just shot two more shadows out of existence, "Tony!"

Tony looked down at Steve and Steve quickly motioned towards the injured boy before breaking into a run. He heard Tony shout something that would never pass the censors and saw the man blasting through the sky and lunging at the shadow of a man, who had just got up from the rubble.

Steve's mind was in soldier-mode. One of their own was down. They were surrounded by enemies. Tony was taking care of the biggest threat, so Steve would have time to focus on protecting the wounded. Steve practically threw himself to his knees, skidding to a halt beside Jack. He quickly checked his surroundings once more, chucking his shield at the two shadows who came at him.

When the monsters withered away, the rooftop was clear save for the Boogeyman. At least for now. It would have to do. Jack groaned and coughed, desperately reaching out his hand towards the staff that lay just a few inches from the pale fingers. The boy's eyes were wide and fearful, looking strangely alien to Steve, who had never seen the boy express anything more negative than mild misery.

"I've got you, Jack," Steve said in his best calming voice and made sure the boy looked at him before bringing his hand on the bony shoulder, "I can help you."

He didn't say it was going to be okay. He had no way of knowing that, and it felt idiotic saying such childish things to a seasoned fighter. Now that Steve could get a closer look, the damage looked far worse. The black spike went all the way through and judging by the blood that now coloured Jack's thin lips with messy red and the short, desperate gasps that had replaced normal breathing, it had punctured a lung as well. That wasn't good. But hadn't these Guardians already proven they could take an immense amount of abuse without batting an eye? Maybe the boy really would be okay.

"Jack," Steve spoke firmly when the boy's eyes glazed over in the beginnings of a shock. The boy's lips were turning blue, "Jack! I need you to listen to me. I've got you. If I take the spike out, do you think you can pull yourself together?"

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth opening and closing in his desperate attempts to breathe properly. He coughed up more blood. Steve pressed his mouth into a tight line. He wasn't really up to date with today's medical procedures and even first aid had gone through so many changes while he had been in a block of ice. And he supposed it didn't matter anyway since he was now dealing with a creature science didn't know existed.

"Jack!" Steve called again, shaking the boy lightly and causing him to flinch, "I'll pull it out, okay?"

Tony suddenly landed on his side next to Steve and Jack, launched through the air after being caught under a tidal wave of that black sand. The Boogeyman, Pitch, limped towards them, his grey face twisted into an angry scowl. The man's midsection had been frozen solid, and Tony had apparently managed to shoot out a chunk of the man's side. It was reforming even as Pitch walked, black sand knitting the wound together and erasing all evidence it had ever been there.

"I don't understand you," Pitch said through gritted teeth, "Why do you even bother trying to save him?"

He nodded towards Jack, who was now weakly clawing at his own chest where the spike had entered. Steve didn't like the idea of moving the kid now, but as Pitch walked closer, he figured he needed to at least get the boy farther away from the enemy. Steve gathered the small, freezing body into his arms and took a crouching step back, trying his best not to cause Jack too much unnecessary pain. Jack yelped when his body was moved, and his eyes snapped wide open, still fogged with pain and anxiety. Pitch laughed at the sound and looked very pleased with himself. Tony pushed himself up into a sitting position, and Steve could imagine the man glaring at Pitch under his mask.

"We bother because we get along with him," Tony said in his usual snarky tone, "Unlike with you."

"Really?" Pitch sneered, "Not your best comeback, Mr. Stark. Especially seeing how just a moment ago you were happily trying to beat these Guardians to a pulp. I'm serious, what do you think you gain from siding with them? Such childish things... dreams, fun, wonder... you should all know they are just here to distract from the real world. They are something you can't afford to really have. But fear... fear is what keeps people alive."

"No..." said a very small voice. Steve looked down at the spirit in his arms. Jack's eyes had regained some of their usual shine, but he didn't seem to find the strength to say anything more.

"Fear is what the people need," Pitch went on, "It keeps them on their toes. It kept you all from being completely surprised when things really got bad some time ago. It keeps you wanting to seek out whatever out there might want to kill you."

"Like you?" Steve growled, taking another step back.

If he hadn't had a wounded comrade to protect he would have punched the living daylights out of the Boogeyman. Tony stepped in front of Steve and Jack and raised his hand threateningly towards Pitch.

"Me?" Pitch laughed coldly, "I told you: it's my job to spread fear. To take away all those useless dreams and wonder. No one ever said anything about killing."

Jack took a trembling, strangled breath.
"That's not..." he broke off into a hacking cough, "That's not what... People still need..."

"Hey," Steve said, "I don't think it's very smart of you to try to talk."

He was rather sure that if Jack had been a normal human, he wouldn't have been able to talk much any longer.

"A very good piece of advice, Mr. Rogers," Pitch said, "I find his talking very irritating as well."

Tony said a few words to his suit and, apparently happy with what he heard in response, fired a beam at Pitch. The Boogeyman moved out of the way, disappearing into the shadows and appearing on another rooftop, the wicked, black scythe again in his hand.

"How cute," he said, "You really do defend him... even though you don't really believe in him. You never did."

Jack opened his mouth, and Steve was sure what the boy was going to say was a heated protest. But no sound came out save for another wheezing cough. Steve adjusted the boy in his arms so that the kid's airways were as clear as possible.

"Don't try to fool yourself, Jack," Pitch smiled almost gently, "You know it well enough. They claim to understand you, but to them you are still just a kid with strange powers. They don't believe in what the Guardians stand for. There is no place for those things in their world."

Tony took a threatening step forward. He had clearly had enough of the manipulative speeches.

"Steve," Tony said without looking away from the Boogeyman, "Get the kid treated."

Tony rose up into the air and launched himself forward. Steve took that opportunity to distance himself and Jack from the Boogeyman and ran as smoothly as he could to the other end of the rooftop. He stopped on the way only to pick up Jack's staff. Jack immediately snatched it from Steve's hand, clutching it almost convulsively. Well, at least Steve didn't have to worry about carrying that too in addition to Jack and Steve's own shield. When he reached the end of the rooftop he jumped, shouting a quick "Sorry!" to Jack, who whimpered in pain when they landed. The kid seemed to be slipping into shock again. Steve forced himself to just focus on running. He needed to get the kid to safety. The Guardians were very resistant to damage, but Steve knew even the most persistent beings usually had at least some sort of limits. He really hoped this wouldn't be it for Jack.

Tony had to admit that even though the Boogeyman hadn't seemed so scary at first glance, the man could be pretty damn creepy when he really wanted to. The slasher smile that split the man's sickly grey face during battle was rather unnerving, promising pain and mental torment the man could most likely back up as well. Also, the Boogeyman seemed to have firm control over the atmosphere of the situation, making the night foreboding like a psychological thriller. Horror film industry would no doubt pay good money for those abilities. Too bad the man didn't seem to be all that interested in worldly possessions.

As shadows and energy flew between Tony and the man named Pitch, Tony did his best trying to steer the man away from Steve and Jack. He hoped whatever it was that had hit the ice kid wouldn't be fatal, or worse. The kid was a pain in the ass, but also quite fun to be around. Even if the kid's snarky comments could sometimes get annoying, mostly because Tony had to silently admit that his own comments were usually very similar.

Pitch didn't seem to be tiring even as they raced through Manhattan. Hadn't the Guardians said that getting the people in the city believing in lollipops and sunshine would weaken the Boogeyman? If so, the Guardians hadn't managed to do their job well enough. Maybe something had gone wrong.

Tony took a blast of the black sand to the shoulder. Again the functions in his suit died for a moment, and he had no idea why. He fell, but this time he had kept himself hovering over the rooftops the best he could, and he managed to land on his knees on top of a couple dozen-story house. His right knee took the brunt of the fall and sunk into the roof, making a noticeable dent in it.

"JARVIS?" Tony called, "What's going on with that sand?"

"I have no idea, sir," came JARVIS's reassuringly calm voice after the suit came back to life, "It is possible it has some corruptive properties. Perhaps they are interfering with the suit."

"Son of a bitch..." Tony sighed, "Note to self: figure out how to protect your electronics from the powers of darkness."

The shadow in the wall next to Tony swirled into life, and the Boogeyman emerged from it, grin-first like the Cheshire Cat. His scythe was poised for a strike, and Tony barely managed to duck under the swing. His elbows hit the roof and he rolled out of the way.

Pitch stepped completely out of the shadow and into the dim light. Tony prepared to move out of the way of another strike, but the Boogeyman was even faster than he had expected. The scythe slashed across Tony's chest, and for one horrible moment he feared his arc reactor would stop working as well. The hit burned even through the suit, but at least the suit protected him from the worst. Air left his lungs, and he fell onto his back.

The Boogeyman advanced, and was it just Tony's imagination, or was the man growing taller? No... no, it wasn't. Pitch really was taller than before. Taller and more threatening. Especially now that Tony was again without proper control of the suit.

Tony took a deep breath.

"Well, shit."

Author's Note: I don't think I've written so many swearwords into anything before this fic. Tony! Shame on you! Also, I have the flu so my brain isn't working that well. So what's a writer to do? Well, make the characters suffer, of course!

Response to RandomCitizen: No, I am not actually dead... or am I? :D

Some book references in this chapter: Bunny's time-travelling abilities are mentioned. Yes, he can do that in the books. He seems to like working as a sort of a time police (time lord?) in his free time. Also, Pitch is a size-shifter so he can grow taller at will. The fact that his powers mess up Tony's suit was kind of a random move from me, but it can be sort of justified by the fact that Pitch could cause Katherine's compass to malfunction just by touching it in the books. The compass was part magical but still...

I'm trying to wrap this up in two more chapters. Keyword: trying. Thanks for the support!