Chapter fifty-five- We're Back!

I know, I'm sorry, but I'm back in swing of things. I did promise I wouldn't give up on this!

James was really, really bad at mediation. After about three hours with no luck he tapped Sandy's shoulder to snap him out of it.

"Alright, plan B. This is never going to work." He sighed. Darn his stupid attention span.

Sandy suggested maybe if he and Jack were both asleep he could consciously reverse what he had done without knowing before.

"Good idea, maybe I should let one of them in on this before we try. Jack doesn't need to know, that wouldn't be a fair kind of hope, but maybe if I tell North?" He suggested. Sandy nodded eagerly and gave a double thumbs-up, wide grin firmly in place. James nodded, happy to have Sandy's full support so much of the time. He wasn't sure if he was Sandy's elder, equal or child half the time. Sandy could really knock the "weird loveable uncle" cliché out of the park. James chuckled to himself on his way out the door. Sandy couldn't be sure, but it was entirely possible, he had the mind of a child, after all.

He landed in the living room of the Pole using his shadow magic, not feeling like prolonging the attempting of this idea. As his feet touched the floor he was slammed with a snowball, right between the eyes.

"Jack?! Come on out here, you nut-HEY!" Another snowball smacks him in the face. He heard snickering, but it wasn't just one voice…nor were either of them Jack…

"What the-?"

"NOW!" A strikingly Russian accent called and James was slammed with dozens of snowballs while elves sprayed him with silly string. When the din of flying snowballs and laughing yeti died down Jamie was still laughing, literally rolling on the floor.

"What in the- who…what? When did you plan this? Who'd you mean this for?" He asked as he scraped the sticky substance off his shirt.

"Eh, we weren't picky, let's put it that way." Jack offered, perching himself on top of the couch, swinging his staff around happily. James made eye contact with North and smiled. He knew what the old man had been up to, and obviously he'd succeeded, as Jack and Jamie were nearly in tears from laughter.

Better than the earlier alternative.

"Gotcha!" Jamie finally managed, choking on air. He plopped down on the couch heavily and sighed, like a weight was lifted.

"Sure did, kiddo." James mocked Jack's nickname without much thought. Jack raised a brow at him but he didn't notice, he was too occupied on his reason for visiting. "North? I actually came to talk to you." He prompted. North's face palled a shade or two, faced falling and his blue eyes sharp, focusing in and trying to decide how worried he should be.

"What is it?" He asked immediately.

"Nothing's wrong, relax." He offered immediately. He didn't relax much as James obviously radiated worry, but took him at his word and at least attempted to look less concerned. He made a large sweeping gesture that indicated that he should follow before making his way back toward his office. James was trying to keep the boys out of the loop, but there was no way Jack hadn't figured something out by this point.

"Alright, we can clean this up later." North chuckled, looking to the boys. Jack nodded with a smirk and watched them head off toward the back of the workshop. James knew that smirk. It was Jack's wall, like his was made of chuckles and shadows, his was snowballs and fun times. His heart ached a little when North disappeared and he had to turn back around to follow him like nothing was wrong. He was making North's worry out to nothing. It felt too much like a lie.

"James?" North asked as soon as the door closed, front falling into a paler-than-usual wide-eyed stare. It was piercing. He couldn't shake a feeling that he'd seen it before and it was unsettling.

"Sandy and I have a plan." He spat out unreasonably quickly. North's concern grew visibly in his aqua eyes. His head tilted in that concerned way he had of trying to get past someone into their mind. He was Santa, after all. An old carol popped into James' mind without warrant and simply wouldn't retreat for anything.

He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been-

"James?" The toymaker was right in front of him now, no longer across the quiet room by his desk. He had his hands on James' shoulders like he'd been trying to get his attention for a while. He tried not to shudder.

"Hmm? Yes?" He asked, shaking himself out and resisting the urge to get as far away from the man as he possibly could.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

"What makes you ask?" He knew what made him ask.

"You look like you're sick." He offered. Pitch nearly scoffed.

Pitch?

Pitch.

"I uh…I just…" He let out a huge breath and shook his head, backing up.

"James?" He asked again as if saying his name would bring him back to the present.

"Sorry, what I was saying. Sandy thinks that…that…now what did we decide? I can't…oh hold on I…" He looked down, wide eyed at the floor, not able to conjure why he was there for the life of him. Something was wrong. The carol interfered again, a minor, unsettling key permeating it, like whatever imagined instruments were playing along weren't playing the same song.

You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout…

"James, breathe." North prompted.

…he knows if you've been bad or good…

"…come on. Look at me, James? What's wrong?" He asked again. He looked downright terrified now.

"Pitch" He finally let out the name as a terrified whisper.

"What?" North looked stunned. "Pitch? But…but that was you, it wasn't but…"

"I…" He couldn't put it into words himself, how would he tell the man? The feeling was so strange, like being in someone else's body, seeing their memories and feeling the full effect of having your body hijacked. What had caused it though? As he puzzled that out a shadow crossed their vision and they both jumped about a foot in the air.

"What was that?!" North asked, looking to the dream spirit.

"Pitch. Boogey made…made, made a new Pitch…a new boogeyman…" He couldn't believe what he was saying but it had to be true.

"But how? Isn't he dead and gone?" He asked, more to convince himself than James.

"No, no we learned that when we went back to Burgess, how do we keep forgetting about that?!" He slammed his fist into the wall.

"I thought we got it all." North insisted. "You, Sandy, you two almost died to get rid of it." He insisted.

"I…I thought we had…" He shook his head. "Some of it must have hung back, or worse…" The images couldn't have been coincidence.

"You're saying…?"

"I think…that magic, I know it." He backed away from North on instinct. "He's trying out his power. He's getting into the only head he's strong enough to reach…" He's reforming!

"James? What? I don't understand." North was quickly getting lost. James just kept talking, hoping an explanation would magically appear out of his words somehow.

"The shadows. They made him. Pitch Black. He's real. He's separate. He's trying to get stronger. His memories, they aren't mine. They never were. He was…he's been…separate. Oh Moon, we've got a problem." The man was rambling now and North didn't waste a second pulling James down into a chair. His sentences were clipped, a child snapping a stapler without the paper inside of it.

"James, if Pitch is back we need to gather ourselves and get rid of him." He reasoned. James nodded.

"Of course. I think I know how." He explained that they thought they could reverse the bond Sandy had made accidentally by knocking the two out, and letting Sandy at it from that realm. He could help him by strengthening their connection to the dream world while he worked. Plus, his own magic could only help Sandy's be stronger.

"Wishing magic…I think I know how this might work, but we need to try it quickly. There are stories." He kept talking as he lead James to the library and Jack was right behind them.

So much for surprising him, I should have known better. James mentally shook his head. There was no way he was keeping Jack out of the loop. Evidently the pair had cleaned the living room while they were in the office too, impressive.

"What's wrong?" Jamie asked as they passed, running to catch up.

"Yeah, you seem worried." Jack pointed out, not having his bluffed grin. He deflated.

"We have an idea, but we don't know if it'll work. Besides, we have bigger problems, we think, well…" He didn't know how to explain it. Thankfully North was there.

"The boogeyman is back. His own separate entity now. Pitch Black has been reborn." North's cryptically serious tone kicked Jack into hyper-worry mode.

"Should I go get the othe-…I mean pull the lever." He reconsidered quickly. Their vague concerns and plan were setting off a surprising amount of worry. He looked between the two for a moment before they realized he was way more concerned than they were. They were terrified, yes, but this wasn't a run-screaming-into-the-fray type of worry. It was a calculated worry.

"No, no. Just…come help us spell-hunt." James offered, recovering partially. "One hurdle at a time."

"Right, wishing magic, then the boogeyman." North agreed, forcing himself to relax. It was an obviously failing gesture, but they knew it had to happen. He had to try because he was nothing short of spastic when he was truly panicking.

If they couldn't break this bond, they didn't stand a chance against this new boogeyman.

Sorry I'm awful! I had to get back into this and make sure my story was straight. I can't thank you guys enough for sticking with me! You're awesome! I'll be back at this soon!