I'm back! I'm so sorry for the late update. Algebra is killing me. Anyways I love all the comments. Thanks to those who answered my previous doubt, and yes this is fan fiction so I can make him sweat if I wanted him to so I'll just go along with it and make him sweat. I really appreciate all the feedback and I honestly didn't expect people to love this story. Enough said I present the next chapter!
Wait, Disclaimer: I don't own ROTG
He suddenly woke up, his eyes opening automatically, against his will, bringing him out of the deep slumber he had been in. He blinked a couple of times to clear away the crust that had started to form. Once his thoughts started to clear up he stifled a yawn as he looked around. What had woken him up? He hadn't been having any nightmares, so why had he woken up? A frown formed on his face as he tried to figure out why he had woken up so suddenly.
He groaned softly, feeling as though he was a giant bruise. His powers helped numb the pain, not completely but enough to reduce it to a constant ache. He knew he was still injured but he felt more secure. Like he could move around a bit more freely. Feeling safer he propped himself up, slowly still wary of his injuries. His chest felt sore, probably the cause of all the bruises, and bruised, or broken ribs he had.
His hands stretched out reaching for the crutches. Holding one in every hand he prepared himself to get up. His leg hurt still more than his chest, but it was bearable. The door was still in the same position that it had been when he had fallen asleep. As he got closer he noticed that the lair wasn't quite. After the many years he had stayed here, he had never realized how quite it was. Right now instead of the usual silence there was a racket going somewhere in the lair. Hesitantly he walked towards the doorway.
Once he reached it he stopped, not sure if he should keep going. After a moment of internal debate he decided to figure out what the noise was. As he slowly made his way towards the noise, questions were flying through his head. What was the noise? He swallowed. It wasn't that he was scared. He didn't think there was anything that was scarier than Pitch. What was the worst that could happen to him? Get killed. That would be like showing mercy to him.
As he turned a hallway he realized that he it had slipped past his mind that Pitch had told him that there would be visitors later that day. His heart sped up slightly at the prospect of seeing other people. As he walked faster the noise got louder and clearer. It sounded like birds chirping. A frown sketched itself across his face as he realized that the chirps sounded agitated, scared, and brave at the same time. He stopped where the hallway turned, he wasn't sure if he could turn the corner.
He swallowed, noticing that his throat was dry, and his lips crackled as he stretched his mouth testing to see how much he could stretch it before it would start bleeding. His tongue slipped through his teeth wetting his lips, his eyes closing slightly in a grimace as it burned at the contact. He could still taste the dried blood on it from where his nose had been bleeding. He imagined what he looked like with blood stains covering a good portion of his face. Shaking his head lightly he shook the thoughts out of his head.
Deciding that he had extended the wait too long he turned the corner, his mind not processing what he was doing. He had barely turned before he froze, taking in the sight before him. His eyes widened, and he wasn't sure if his jaw was hanging open or not. The place where he had hung the cages, were now full of little, fairies? He wasn't exactly sure what they were. His eyes kept observing the scene around him.
It was mass chaos. Nightmares were flying in, carrying more of the fairies in their stomachs. They would come in then they'd proceed to dump them in the cages. He shivered as a nightmare passed close to him. He hated those things. Not wanting to make any contact with them he took a step backward. Without meaning to he realized that he had shrunk back into the shadows now almost completely invisible.
It was a habit he had acquired over the years. He know kept in the shadows, making sure he was never noticeable. It was never good when Pitch noticed him. If he didn't have something to say to him or make him do, then he would hurt him. He considered stepping out but decided against it, instead choosing to wait until all the nightmares were gone to go outside. He knew any of the nightmares could attack him or tell Pitch that he had been here. He knew he wouldn't be able to talk to any of them, Pitch had warned him.
So he stood there ignoring the way his muscles were starting to protest. After a couple of minutes if even possible more nightmares appeared carrying more fairies. He watched feeling a bit of sympathy for them, as they got shoved into a cage, only for them to look around fluttering around angrily trying to escape. Then they would settle down in despair as they realized that they couldn't escape. He could sympathize with them. He knew what it felt like having your freedom then having it be suddenly taken from you.
As he watched a certain fairy caught his attention. It didn't seem to matter to her that her chances were being narrowed down to nothing. She kept fighting even as she got thrown into a cage. She glared back at the nightmare not caring when it turned around and huffed in her face. She stared back at it not breaking eye contact with it. Eventually the horse turned around whining in annoyance before it disappeared.
For some reason he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She even looked different from the other fairies, she had a golden feather on her head, but that wasn't the only thing different. There was an atmosphere around her that was different. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't place what it was. After a moment as if feeling his gaze she turned her head directly to where he was half covered. His eyes widened even more as they made eye contact.
No, it couldn't be. She was staring at him. Did that mean he was communicating with somebody else? This was his first contact with somebody after decades. Her eyes shined with mixed emotions. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't place what they all were. He watched the array of emotions flash through her eyes; shock, confusion, horror, and other ones he couldn't place. She cocked her head to the side her face looking appalled. Her eyes seemed to be asking him so many questions.
Who are you? What are you doing here? But the main one he saw the most, even though it wasn't a question, and the one that scared him was, you're injured. The concern that was inside those delicate eyes surprised him. He never remembered a time when someone had looked at him like that. It almost seemed like she cared about him. But that couldn't be, nobody cared about him.
He shook his head before scrambling back quickly turning around going to back to the room. His arms now fully trembled tired of the abuse he placed on them. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get them to stop trembling. He took another step before his arms wavered not being able to his weight anymore. He let out a cry as he came crashing down on the floor. His arms stretched out, as the crutches escaped his grasp, as he tried to break his fall. The crutches clattered as they hit the floor bouncing out of his reach, but that was the last of his worries as he hit the floor.
Even though he had used some of his magic to help the healing process, his ribs suddenly made themselves known as the pain sprouted from his chest. The pain overclouded his senses. He let out small wheezes as he tried to overcome the black dots that were dancing in his vision. His hands curled, his knuckles turning white, and his nails digging into his palm.
He blinked a couple of times to try and clear them but after failing, he instead choose to keep them closed. It helped him with the pain. It seemed to help him with the pain, like when you touched something that was hurting.
When the pain reduced to a constant throb he cracked his eye open. It was slightly blurry but after blinking a couple of times he could see clearly again. He almost wished he couldn't when he saw how far his crutches had fallen away from him. The crutches were on either side of them but out of arm's length. Choking back a sob of despair he turned his head so his forehead was touching the cool ground.
He stretched out his arm hoping that it would miraculously be in his reach. But it wasn't. He raised his head back up to see how far it was from him. After a couple of moments he propped his upper body up so he could drag himself to where it was laying. He raised himself up on his elbows, before he started dragging himself forward. His leg making it difficult to drag himself across the floor. Once he reached it he managed to grab it. With a grunt he got up wobbling the whole time, as he managed it without crashing to the floor.
He steadied himself before he started walking with one crutch in hand to where the other one was. Once he reached it he stretched his arm out. At that moment he knew he would have to bend down to pick it out. Letting out a sigh he carefully bent careful of his injured ribs. His fingers grazed the crutch before he clutched it picking it up.
As he attempted to go back to the room, he realized how weak he was. He had barely taken a step before his arms trembled again threatening to make him fall. His shoulders sagged in defeat as he decided to sit against the wall. He steadily slid down the wall his cast making it hard for him to slide down straight. After a couple of seconds his bottom touched the dirty floor. He carefully placed his crutches by his side before he let his head lean on the wall.
Finally now that he was sitting down he tried to loosen his shoulders so they weren't so tense. It took a bit of effort but he managed to loosen them slightly, not completely. He wasn't sure if he could even relax them completely. It made him feel like he was putting his guard down. To him that meant the difference between a beating and a pat on the shoulder. Even when it didn't save him from a beating it helped him prepare for the pain. It seemed to hurt less when he was aware it was coming. He hated it when he was caught unaware.
He also realized that he smelled disgusting, was covered in sweat, grime, and blood. He hadn't seen himself in who knew how long but he didn't need a mirror to know he looked horrible. He could even say scary. He almost looked like a ghost. That was probably why the little fairy had stared at him with those eyes. He probably did look like a ghost with his pale skin, dried blood on his head, and his sweater all dirty and covered in blood. That or he was really as ugly as Pitch said he was.
A pang of pain went through his chest as he thought of that.
"You're ugly, a disgusting sight to see. No one would ever want to be friends with you." Pitch's words rang through his head. Was he really that ugly? His throat stung in the familiar pain as he tried to keep his eyes from watering. He brought his arms on top of his knee before he buried his head in his arms. Was that fairy scared of him? Did she think he was a monster? His lip quivered at the thought of him being a monster. Did, did that mean he was the same as Pitch?
He had never, and would never hurt anyone at least not on purpose. Pitch said that he was the bringer of winter, that it was his fault for everybody, and everything that died in winter. "Nobody likes winter. Who likes the spirit that only brings death and coldness? You kill everything you touch." This time he couldn't stop the tears that prickled at the corner of his eyes. As he tried to hold it back he closed his eyes. The slight pressure was enough to make the liquid seep through his eyes.
He shrunk even more burying his head even tighter against his arms, his foot touching his thigh. It made him seem even smaller if that was even possible. He was sure if anybody passed by they wouldn't see him, not if they weren't looking for him, he was practically a shadow. The little light was barley hitting him, and instead it made him look a shade of grey.
Time seemed to pass by as he stayed like that. It was as if he was literally frozen, he hadn't moved an inch, the only indication he was alive was the steady rise and fall of his shoulders. After a while he realized that the lair was once more silent. His ears perked up listening for any sign that there were still nightmares bringing in more of the fairies. When all he heard was his own breathing, and his heart beating he slowly raised his head up from his arms. His neck protested sore from being in the awkward position for such a long time.
His eyes were puffy, and red from the crying he had been doing. There were still fresh trails were the tears had wet his cheeks. When he moved his arm off his knee the familiar tingling sensation told him his arm had fallen asleep. The leg that was stretched, courtesy of his cast was the most comfortable. For a moment he wondered if getting up would be the best thing. What harm could it cause him if he stayed here a couple of minutes more?
That thought immediately vanished when he remembered the last time Pitch had caught him slacking off. He shuddered. With an almost forced action he started to pull himself up. He had almost dozed off, even in the uncomfortable position he was in his body had wanted to shut down, to let him rest. His blue eyes hidden by his bangs were slightly cloudy, his eyelids halfway closed as he fought to stay awake, and get up. All the crying he had done had worn him down even more.
It took him a couple of minutes but he managed to get up. Once he was up he suddenly didn't know where to go. One part of him, the more logical side, knew he had to get back to the room. The other part of him wanted him to go back to where the fairies were located.
He found that his thoughts kept drifting back to that fairy. There was just something about her that had caught his attention. Maybe it was the fact that she had been the first person to see him in decades that wasn't Pitch. The only thing that was currently reassuring him that he was in fact real, was that she had seen him. Her eyes hadn't gone past him like when he had been around the children.
The edge of his mouth twitched up, until muscles that hadn't been used in such a long time were suddenly used again. The way his mouth was stretching up felt completely foreign, but he was smiling. Even if it felt completely foreign there was a familiar touch to it. Like if at one point he had smiled often. That's when he felt it again. The same cool sensation over his body, his pain was numbed to the point where he couldn't feel it. He looked and was surprised to see that nothing had happened.
He looked completely normal. No frost had formed or had burst out of his hand. He checked his hand just to reassure himself. What was that tingling sensation? It felt new, but at the same time he recognized it, like if at one point he had actually been familiar with it. Whatever it was it seemed to give him more strength. Making up his mind he limped over to where the cages were hanging. A voice at the back of his mind was asking him what he was doing. He himself didn't know what he was doing. The long hallway seemed to stretch out even more as he urged himself to go faster.
When he got to the corner he hesitated. He licked his lips grimacing when he tasted the dried blood that still lingered on his mouth. Swallowing he turned the corner before he could stop himself. He had barely turned the corner when one of the fairies squeaked out something. He stopped looking up, as all the fairies froze before looking down at him. For a moment they stared at each, the tension in the room rose. Maybe, it hadn't been the best idea to come here.
He blinked his thoughts wild, and jumbled as they entered his mind. What were they thinking? Did, did they think he was a monster? His chest ached at the thought. Finally after a moment one fairy squealed out something in a desperate voice. As he looked closer he realized that it was the same fairy that had seen him before. Another smile threatened to bloom on his face, and he let it. The fairies gasped, alarming him, before they leaned forward. One of them gave a squeal before she promptly fainted.
His upper lip twitched slightly and he opened his mouth a grin starting to form. The action caused most of the fairies to squeal before heart shapes appeared in some of their eyes. Alarmed his eyes widened dramatically at their actions. Why were they acting like that? Were they okay? Did something happen? His face scrunched up as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
It took him a moment but he understood after many ideas crossed his mind that they seemed to like his smile. It took him a bit of effort but he managed a grin that he assumed let his teeth show. The way his mouth was stretching made him uncomfortable but he did it anyways. The result was immediate. All the fairies let out gasps before they went wild. Some of them grabbing the fairies besides them before going up and down. He stared at them astonished.
Confusion shined in his blue eyes as he watched them. Finally after a couple of seconds the fairy with the gold feather seemed to get over his smile as she spoke up. Whatever she said caused the others to stop and turn back to him. He shifted uncomfortably suddenly aware of the sudden attention he was receiving. Immediately their expressions morphed into ones of horror.
Every single one of them seemed to be looking him over. Right, he thought, he was wearing a sweater covered in blood stains, and his pants were ripped also covered in blood. His leg had a cast on it, he was in crutches, his face was swollen with a black eye, and not to mention his nose was broken. A big nasty bump on his head, with his hair a nasty brown color instead of the snowy white it once was. He probably as he had said before looked half-dead. He probably was an ugly sight to see.
The confusion was replaced with worry. Worry that they would think he was disgusting and all the reactions that had had before would be replaced with hate, disgust, and pity. He was surprised when he noticed that he had closed his eyes. He couldn't meet their eyes. He wouldn't be able to stand it. He was scared. He was scared to meet there rejection. He didn't think he could stand it. Not after he had seen the way they had been staring at him a couple of seconds before hand.
A soft tweet snapped him out of his depressing thoughts as the sound forced him to open his eyes. The sound was said in a way that one would say to a scared child. It comforted him. It made him feel safe? His eyes wandered around before they settled on the fairy. Her eyes had softened and were full of concern. She seemed to be asking him what was wrong. All the other fairies seemed to be asking him the same thing.
He opened his mouth, ready to tell them that he was all right. Then he would walk away because he wasn't even supposed to be there. Just as he had opened his mouth to say something when a cold shiver ran through him. He stood up straighter, his hands tightening around the crutches to the point where his knuckles turned white. A second later a hand placed itself on his shoulder. He immediately tensed knowing Pitch wasn't going to be pleased.
The hand curled around his shoulder tighter, the sharp fingernails digging into his skin. "Frosty, what are you doing here?" The soft voice echoed through the now silent lair. He swallowed forcing himself to speak. "I'I heard n-noise s-so I w-went to see w-what i-it was." He managed to choke out. All the fairies were now concentrating on them, silent, and nervously watching the conversation. "Is that so? Well then I guess that makes it okay right?" When he didn't answer Pitch shook him roughly.
"I guess that means that it's okay, right?" He repeated the question this time less impatiently. "I-I don't know." He answered truthfully his head lowering down slightly. "You were looking out for the lair. You were protecting your home." Pitch seethed. He tried not to shiver at the mention of the lair being his home. "All you need is a little leash so you don't get lost."
No. This time he couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. "I would hate it if somebody else saw you without a tag, and decided to take you. Not that anybody would really want you. You'll have to have a collar on you so they know you already belong to somebody." While Pitch spoke the sand started creeping from the hand that was on his shoulder slowly making his way to his neck. He simply closed his eyes deciding not to try and put up any resistance. The sand curled around his whole neck before it hardened, making the unmistakable shape of a collar.
"There we go, that way no one will want to take you from me." His voice mocked him.
"Maybe, that will teach you not to wander where you're not needed. Not that you're needed." He sneered the last sentence at him. He nodded weakly trying his best to ignore the jab. "Now go back to your room. Don't bother me and you're stripped of your dinner tonight. I'll keep you locked in there until I need you for something." His stomach did a flip as he heard he wasn't going to get any food. The only thing he currently got for food was a small cup of water and a bread loaf. To not even get that. His stomach already felt like eating itself.
He already knew he wouldn't be able to rest completely, not when he had such an intense pain in his stomach. But he ignored it and instead accepted the punishment without any arguing, and simply nodded. He didn't need to see him to know Pitch was grinning pleased that he managed to once again make him feel like scum. He only felt Pitch pat him on the head exactly where he had a giant bump. He tensed up his eyebrows furrowing together in pain.
"Good, now I'll trust you already meet the Tooth fairies helpers?" He nodded. "I already told you, but I'll tell you one last time. I don't want you talking to any of them. Do you understand?" He asked him. "Y-yes." He muttered quietly his head hanging low. At least he had managed to have a little bit of interaction with them. "Now go." Pitch said as he dismissed him. He quickly started walking away. As he walked away he raised his head slightly making eye contact with the fairy one last time.
Her eyes were wide, and scared. He managed to send her an encouraging smile before the wall cut his sight off. Trying to shake his thoughts away from the fairy, he concentrated on the route that he had to take. He had to take a different route as he made his way to his own personnel room. The door that separated him from his own room was closed just like how he had last left it. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for the doorknob, with a twist he opened it, and stepped inside.
A bed made of straw was on the left corner of the room with a small cup next to it were he drank water from, and a lantern farther away next to a box of match that was empty expect for one match. It was the only way to provide light in the dark room. He usually only used it in spare occasions since Pitch only gave him a match every couple of weeks. The candle inside was half-used, and would last a couple more uses. He shut the door behind him blocking out the little light leaving him in complete darkness.
Used to the darkness that usually accompanied the room he expertly made his way to the bed, only stumbling slightly before he made it. After a couple of moments were he complemented the best way for him to sit down before he finally managed it. He settled his crutches besides the bed before getting comfortable as possible in the make-shift bed he was on. Once he got in a suitable position he pulled on the collar that he had on. He completely despised it.
It felt uncomfortable as it was slightly tight around his neck, but he mostly didn't like it because Pitch usually like to choke him whenever he had it on. It was a symbol that meant that his freedom was gone. It went against nature, he wasn't supposed to have something on that marked him as somebody else's property. It seemed to, as Pitch had said, mark him as his. His thoughts suddenly went back to that one fairy. He remembered how she had kept fighting even when her freedom was taken away. Did, did that mean he could also fight?
No, that wasn't possible. That wasn't even an option. Even so it irked him how she hadn't given up. What made her different? As he pondered over it he suddenly realized that she needed a name.
Pitch had said that they were the Tooth Fairy's helpers. Was that why they had all freaked out when he had grinned? His teeth were still the same brilliant white. No matter what they seemed to never stain. So if they were obsessed with teeth he could name her something that had to do with teeth. So he stayed on his bed a good time complementing all the possible names he could name her. After running out of ideas he let out a frustrated growl. How hard was it to figure out a name? He closed his eyes trying not to let his concentration waver. After a moment as almost by miracle a name popped into his mind. He grinned. Perfect.
Baby Tooth.
Awesome I was finally able to finish the chapter. I'm sorry once again for the long wait. I promise not to let such a long time pass by without updating. Thanks for all the positive reviews. My inspiration and encouragement gets boosted by seeing all the comments. Till later!