Previously: Jack surrendered himself to Pitch.
A/N: Sorry guys, I didn't mean for this to take such a long time. I was going to post this yesterday but I can't reread this anymore to proofread. In the end I decided to post it today in honor of the RotG exhibit I went to today. ^^
By the way, this will eventually be rated M with smut and non-con and other angsty stuff. Just thought you should know. It's not rated that at the moment because nothing insane happened yet.
Thank you to everyone who faved and alerted, but special thanks to Shrinking Heliotrope, Runic Healer, Cinnamy, Reid Phantom, isthisparadise, Guest, and MelTheAngryVegan for reviewing! You guys rock!
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Chapter Two: Psychological Warfare
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His name is Jack Frost.
It was the only words that the Man in the Moon had ever said to him by the moonbeams for his entire existence. To be Jack Frost was the only thing he knew. That is, until he saw his human memories thanks to Baby Tooth.
But humanity was so fragile, so fleeting, that Jack wondered how long it would take for him to forget it once again. Adding to that, Jack wondered if the Man in the Moon knew how much Jack had repressed throughout his Immortal existence.
His power was in the Frost aspect of his name. Everything he touched turned to ice; he tended to decorate the world with his fern-pattered frost and it snowed wherever he danced. The cold never affected him, only working as a source of comfort to the immortal teen.
But the first thing he noticed was the chilling cold. It was so unexpected, so strange; the feeling was almost so foreign to him that at first he did not recognize it. It was to the cold that he had awakened. He slowly fluttered his eyes open to faint awareness to find himself lying down in the fallen snow, his arms and legs curled into a ball.
The awakening temperature was so cold to Jack that it was unbearable, that he was unable to move out of the position that he had waken up in.
That was another thing. Jack was not in pain, but something deep inside of him hurt, and this aching feeling made it even harder for him to move.
Jack tried his best to even his breathing as he blinked away the snowflakes caught on his eyelashes while licking away the icy snow off of his dry lips. His breaths came out in puffs of smoke, and his now even breathing was the only sound in the desolate icy land of falling snow.
He closed his eyes and shivered, shocked at the motion as he reflexively curled in closer to himself. One stray thought of his was wondering just why he was so cold, but they were more of...nothingness. Almost as if he didn't mind freezing there in the snow for the rest of time, as if doing so would take off a huge weight off of his shoulders and he would so be able to finally embrace something he didn't even remember.
There was a sound of crunching footsteps tainting pure, untouched snow.
"Oh, hey! I've been looking for you everywhere. Awake yet?"
Jack knew this voice. The (seductive?) tenor voice was so familiar and yet it was so distorted, twisted in a sense that sent a chill down his spine. And not in the cold aspect of it. Jack's heart dropped and he clenched his eyes shut, trying to pretend he was still asleep.
He didn't know if he wanted to admit it, but he was scared to discover the owner of the voice.
The figure bent down to him, and Jack was sure he was shivering - but this time from fear rather than cold. The figure was silent for a few moments before his words filled the air. "Hmm? Well, I suppose at least Overland didn't find you first. Come on then; you really don't think you can lie there forever do you?"
Jack didn't answer, clutching his shoulders and tucking himself inward as much as he possibly could. His aching chest felt hollow.
"I would invite you to be your guest, but that would defeat the purpose of so many things."
When Jack continued to remain silent, the man sighed.
"It was only one; you can't tell me you were that pure-hearted. Not even he was." A pause. "I guess he just knows how to pick 'em." He chuckled, pulling back just a tad before moving closer. "Not that it matters anymore."
Jack processed the words the familiar voice said as the aching feeling in his chest began to increase. He? Who was he talking about?
"Oh, Jack, I don't think you've realized exactly what you were doing when you gave yourself away. You held the final ace and you so easily discarded it." He knelt down to Jack, who winced. Brushing away some of his hair, he placed his warm (oh so warm it was burning to touch) lips on his ear and whispered, "I know everything about you. You can't hide anything from me. And soon enough, you'll have to acknowledge me. After all..."
The figure grabbed Jack's shoulders to pull him up, and there was an intense heat that flashed through Jack's body. He let out a gasp as the ice was flushed away from his core, exchanged with fire and his eyes flared open.
Nonononono...
All of the colors were wrong - Jack had freshly fallen snow hair while his reflection had twilight black. Jack had a midnight blue hoodie while the Other had black to match his hair. While frost decorated his collar, sleeves, tips of his hood, and the edges of his pockets, a mix of golden and black sand decorated his. Blue sapphire eyes were looking into purple amethyst sprinkled with gold dust, as Jack stared at the person who was exactly like him, and yet wasn't him at the same time.
It was his own warped voice he was listening to.
The Other Jack laughed, a macabre sound that sounded like it was Jack's own amused laughter, just so grotesque it sickened Jack that it was possible for him to sound that way. He assumed that this nightmarish version of himself was supposedly bemused at whatever expression Jack was sporting from staring at his mirrored reflection - which he was sure was of absolute terror and horror.
The Other Jack ran his fingers along Jack's frozen body, replacing the cold with a burning heat sensation with the gentle caresses. Fingers traveled from his shoulders into his chest and Jack was so focused on the warm tips going lower and lower, he was completely caught by surprise when the Other Jack pulled him in for a quick kiss on his parted icy lips, the fire going straight into Jack's burning, aching chest and shoving something vile deep inside him that Jack desperately wanted to claw out before it made its home there, within him, within his heart and center.
But he knew he couldn't, now that it was starting to fill and take away the hollowness in his heart.
He was just in so much pain that he almost missed the words his twisted self whispered into his ear.
"I'm you."
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It was hot. It was much too hot.
Jack shoved away the paper-thin sheet from his body, panting as he hugged himself in an attempt to bring back familiar cold.
His eyes were shut closed in concentration as his fingers pulsed with his frost magic, willing for it to spread as fast as possible to flush away the burning warmth, especially in his chest. He rubbed his arms, tempted to strip himself of his hoodie.
Something was burning, something deep inside of him, and he needed to cool it as soon as possible or else he would melt.
His magic not working fast as he would have liked, he decided to strip off his hoodie - he didn't see what color it was, nor did he want to know - and flung it across the dark room in a random direction. He hugged himself as tight as he could, willing for his magic to course through his veins and bring back the cold he so desperately craved.
A powerful burst of cold rushed through him and washed away the heat as he opened his eyes, watching his frosted fern patterns decorate the room, it glowing with an ethereal glow and bringing a dim light to the otherwise dark room.
Jack panted heavily, clutching the sheet in his hand tightly as he fumbled around, feeling for his sweater. Scolding himself for tossing it carelessly, after a few moments his fingers brushed against something soft and of satin. A twinge of pain flashed through his chest and he winced, retracting his hand and retreating into the bed, the room having lost its little light from his frost.
"Finally awake, are we?" an amused disembodied voice called from the darkness, and Jack stared at where he believed it was coming from. It took a few moments for his head to clear and recognize the speaker.
"Pitch," he breathed; a puff of smoke came with the name. His throat and mouth were dry, and he was feeling a tad dizzy and disoriented after waking up with such a sweat. He didn't really feel like he was in a proper state of mind, but what he did know was that he didn't want to fall back asleep. Everything was hazy, fuzzy, but he was aware - to a degree. He wanted to remain conscious for as long as possible.
"What happened? All I remember was..." He trailed off, not exactly remembering what happened. He remembered that he ate a ball of black sand to save Jamie and his friends from the man's Nightmares, but everything had been hazy after that. There was a burning sensation in his chest, but it has faded away to a tingling sensation by now.
Pitch said nothing, but revealed himself from the shadows that covered the room by sitting on the bed, causing it to dip slightly down. Jack stared at the man, wanting some answers. "Say something," he demanded, needing to hear something save his own voice, needing some answers.
Jack was severely confused when Pitch pulled in him for a one-armed hug. He stiffened, lost on what to do but managed to squeak, "W-what are you doing?"
There was a silence that lasted for a few moments as Pitch rested his head on Jack's mop of hair, inhaling his scent. Jack shivered at the gesture, like spiders were crawling up his spine.
"You've been asleep for a few days," was the first thing the Nightmare King said.
That snapped Jack into attention.
"Days!? How many days?" Jack exclaimed, jerking and trying to remove himself from the hold but wasn't quite successful. If anything, to stop his struggling, Pitch was now using two arms in the embrace and Jack was now sitting in his lap. But that wasn't really important right now. He looked up at the man whose eyes were closed with a confused look, lost.
What...happened?
"Shhh," Pitch whispered into Jack's ear, patting his head and hugging him tighter. "Just be quiet."
As much as Jack wanted to argue, he was too confused from the tender gesture. Besides, he does remember giving Pitch his word to do whatever he commanded. It would probably be in his best interest to just keep silent.
He lay still for a few moments longer as Pitch continued to squeeze him against his own body, running his fingers through his soft snow hair and murmuring words too low for Jack to hear. It sounded like utter nonsense from what he could hear.
Jack's chest began to burn again, causing for him to wince. That finally got a reaction from the man as he pulled back slightly, but continued to keep Jack on his lap, still hugging him. "Not much has happened during your rest, Jack. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, and pulled back all of my nightmares and left your pathetic friends alone."
"They're not pathetic!" Jack couldn't help but let out that protesting outburst. He didn't mean to voice his disagreement, but he couldn't just stay quiet. Not for disregarding something important to him and even degrading it with an insult. "Even if your power has spread throughout the world, as long as there is at least one believer, you'll never win." Jack smiled triumphantly. All he had to do was wait for the rest of the Guardians to regroup and he was sure they would save him. All he had to do was bide his time.
Jack didn't expect for Pitch to grin with a smile that spoke of his amusement for Jack to cling to his firm beliefs. "You're right. As long as little Jamie believes, I can't truly get rid of the Guardians. But nothing can stop time, and eventually Jamie will stop believing. It's called growing up, Jack. You're probably not familiar with the term."
Jack shook his head, mind firm on this aspect. "No, Jamie will never stop believing. Even if he grows up, he'll always remember us." He didn't have any doubts about that. Jamie was always a skeptic, and he was sure that the other Guardians would protect him.
They…had so few believers now… But a few were better than nothing, right? Perhaps Jack should have bargained for more from his end of the deal.
Instead of the backlash Jack expected, Pitch merely chuckled. "Keep telling yourself that," he said as he rose from the bed, Jack sliding off his lap and back onto the dark sheets. "Come. We have much to do now that you have awakened. We need to set some rules and guidelines, and you need to be tested."
"Tested? For what?" Jack inquired, confused and curious what was in store for him.
What has he gotten himself into?
"And I think you may want this." Pitch didn't answer the question, but tossed something at Jack, who caught it easily.
"What…" Jack was familiar with this fabric. He widened his eyes and his face burned, this time of embarrassment as he quickly shoved his hoodie down his head to cover his previously naked chest. At least his body temperature was at its usual low self that it didn't matter if he put it back on - it was more of a sense of modesty. The fact that it was Pitch touching him just caused for shivers to crawl up Jack's spine and that quickly took away the blush.
And he was hugging him, and sitting on his lap…
Don't think about it. There are some things that weren't safe to think about. At least not until later, when he could actually think everything through.
Jack moved to climb out of the large bed and quickly followed after the man. Magic still tingling from his outburst, his feet created ice as he walked.
He still couldn't see the color of his hoodie.
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Jack has been in Pitch's lair before - during that short fall from grace that cost Bunny more than Jack himself - but he never realized just how dark it really was. Perhaps it was because he was in an area he had never been in before, but even the glow of his frost displayed nothing. It was deathly silent, a deafening silence that Jack felt like he was suffocating in it. He just kept his eyes closed since he didn't want to imagine something that wasn't even there. It was a trick that Jack had recently remembered telling his sister when she would go to bed, scared of the dark.
He kept walking into walls, having lost Pitch to the shadows, and was only continuing down the corridor with his hands to the walls for guidance. His thoughts were still slightly fuzzy, a bit sticky from whatever reverie he woke from.
Another chuckle surrounding him made Jack jump, and he was about to trip over himself if a hand hadn't grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to his feet. He gasped; pebbles were pushed forward and Jack heard them echo as they fell down a great chasm, demonstrating what would have happened to the Frost Spirit had he continued on his way.
"Honestly, Jack, you need to learn to embrace the darkness," Pitch whispered in his ear, making Jack tense as he looked up to those golden eyes that glowed in the shadows. "It will soon be your greatest ally as it is mine."
Jack widened his eyes, not particularly liking his words. "What do you mean?"
"Cease your trembling and follow me." Pitch released his wrist and began walking again, and Jack hurried to his side, not wanting to get lost.
Jack didn't even realize he was trembling.
Walking behind him, Jack stared at the man, who didn't give him another glance as he was lead back deeper into the darkness, his frost no longer glowing and sprouting from his feet.
"Could you possibly tell me what's going on?" Jack asked, seriously wanting some answers and his mind finally cleared enough to actually think coherently to a degree.
"Patience, Jack. All will be revealed in due time. Now stand here and wait for a moment."
Jack hadn't realized that Pitch had led him into a room, a small beam of sunlight creeping down from a high crack from the earth's surface. The room was still completely dark save for the beam of light. Hesitantly, Jack stepped forward, wanting to feel the bright light on his icy skin.
Then he noticed a familiar piece of wood, just hiding on the tips of the light. Surprised but not wasting the opportunity, he swiftly reached out and grabbed it with the tips of his fingers, clutching it close to his person.
Pitch laughed, but Jack ignored him in favor for his staff. He held it close to his person, vowing to never lose it as long as he could help it.
"Now, Jack, although you claimed to do as I command, I can't exactly trust your words." He sounded distant, not able to approach the light as the other could. Jack unconsciously shied away, unknowingly backing closer to the shadows.
"…A deal's a deal," Jack replied, mind churning at the idea of doing the man's dirty work. He fumbled around with his staff, making sure that nothing had happened to it.
Pitch's next words made Jack freeze in place. "I want you to make a choice."
Words sinking in, Jack looked at where he believed the voice was coming from. He stared, looking around and following those golden eyes. "A…a choice?"
Pitch materialized in front of the immortal teen, taking hold of his chin. Trapping Jack in those golden eyes. "It was your choice was it not? To join me?"
It took far too long for Jack to remove himself from the man's grip. "…But of course," he begrudgingly replied, biting his lip.
"That slight hesitation and tone tells me otherwise." Pitch shrugged, not sounding like he particularly cared. That is, until he placed his hand on the top of Jack's staff. He squeezed it tightly, and Jack could feel it about to splinter.
He widened his eyes, not wanting to go through the pain as before when he snapped it in half at Antarctica. "Don't!" he exclaimed, trying to shake the man off but Pitch's hold was much stronger than his own.
After a few moments, Pitch finally let go, making Jack jump with the amount of force he had put into trying to regain control. The Nightmare King laughed, amused. "Don't worry, Jack. Again, this is a test. It wouldn't be fair for me to break one of your little toys."
Jack stilled, looking at the man suspiciously. Ignoring the toy comment, he pressed, "What exactly do you have in mind?"
"As I said, Jack. You have to make a choice." He gestured to the crack in the ceiling. "Would you like to leave?"
The question threw him off. Jack looked to Pitch, looked back up to the ceiling, back to Pitch and then frowned, peeved at the teasing. "...This has to be a trick question. Of course I can't go outside - you don't want me to."
"This isn't about me, Jack. This is about you. You and your choice." Pitch circled around him from the safety of his shadows. "Your choice. It all goes down to your choice to be here or not." The light started to change colors, dimming from a soft yellow to a mellow orange before a dying red. "The sun is currently setting. If you would like to leave, you must do so before the sun sets and the moon breaks."
"...You're joking."
"You're losing time."
"..." Jack weighed his options. Pitch looked so...bored, his eyes gleaming with amusement as his poker face held strong. "There must be a catch," Jack said, staring up at the light. If he really could leave...
The Spirit of Winter stared longingly at the setting sun, watching it slowly make its descent as it always did. He always watched the sun set, but usually from a high tree branch, or even a tall building. Never below the surface.
Pitch spoke once more, stirring Jack from his thoughts. "No catch, Jack," he reminded, tone carefree. "It's your choice to stay or to leave. But you better hurry...time's running out..."
There was no question. Jack didn't want to be here. Of course he didn't want to be here. Why would he? Pitch knew it, but would he really let him go so easily?
With his staff at hand, Jack was ready to leave. The wind was at his call, and he tensed as it brushed him upwards, wanting him back on the surface world. He longed to feel the soft earth underneath his toes, not this hard stone.
"It's now or never, Jack..."
Jack actually let himself jump about six feet off of the ground, reaching out his hand high towards the bright, dying light before retracting his fingers and his hand back. He jerked, forcing himself to float back down, back to the hard floor, and back to the darkness as the sun finally set, encasing the two in total darkness.
Jack would glare, but he didn't have a target. He laced his tone with malice. "Don't tease me like that. It is my choice to be here, but that doesn't mean I want to be."
A wicked grin appeared before him. "Right answer." Jack felt a hand grab his shoulder and push him face first into the darkness.
Jack instinctively closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands and staff as he prepared himself to collide with the ground. When that didn't happen as soon as he expected, he opened his eyes to find himself freefalling into the unknown.
Shadows enveloped his body, Pitch taking hold of his arms and into a loose embrace but Jack didn't notice, eyes searching for any source of light save those haunting golden eyes. Pitch made no motions to take his staff, instead smirking at the terror shown on the Guardian to-be's face.
He couldn't help it. Jack screamed as horrible visions and thoughts flashed through his eyes and filled his mind as he continued to descend deeper and deeper, seeing despicable evil things that he knew would never come from him.
Death, violence, war, jealousy, false accusations, ignorance, hatred, but in the end – it all lead to pure fear.
And Jack was scared.
So he tightened his grip on his staff, let out a harsh scream and kicked away Pitch and the shadows as best as he could and let his instincts take over. His body burst with icy magic as a familiar form of protection. He closed his eyes, hugging himself as he tried to banish the images from his mind, never wanting to see them again, never wanting to go through what he had just seen countless others because of the Boogeyman.
Jack finally collided with the floor face down, unexpected as it was after the fall, and tensed as he was placed on his feet by Pitch and his shadows. He quickly brushed them away, hating the slimy feeling they left on his skin.
"Delicious, Jack," Pitch purred, licking his hands that had come into contact with Jack's icy skin. "Almost better than a child's. Almost, but not quite. Your fears have a different flavor." He eyed the shaken teen, licking his lips. "You really can't compare, but delicious all the same."
Jack didn't notice those leering eyes as he struggled to regain his breath, a little winded as the visions and memory of what just happened left from his mind and his eyes finally adjusted to the lack of light. But he would be okay – he just had to think of positive things. Happy memories that were actually his own, like of his humanity.
But they were hazy, fuzzy, and fading fast. Jack widened his eyes as he struggled to remember the face of his sister, slowly turning to Pitch when he couldn't do so.
Memories were trickling out of his mind like water, and he wasn't able to freeze the liquid into ice to stay in his hands. They were slowly leaving his mind, snatched by the greedy shadows that craved the things that made Jack cling to his newly discovered center, and he couldn't stop them from taking what made him him. It was as if he was trapped in that grimy, greasy feeling that made him too sluggish and weak to do anything.
Panicked, he quickly snatched up the best memories he had of when he was Frost - which were of the past few days when he was appointed to be a Guardian and a couple other incidents over the past three centuries – and locked them away in a safe place in the back of his mind that hopefully the shadows couldn't break through. Safely secured to the best of his ability, he scrambled for anything left worth saving, but there wasn't much. Jack doesn't really remember much of his life as Jack Frost. But soon enough, most - if not all - of his human memories were lost to oblivion.
There was only one person who had control and power to do such a thing.
"Give me back my memories of my humanity," Jack demanded, searching his mind endlessly for any trace of them left and finding nothing. He had them for such a short time; he didn't want to forget them so quickly. Not yet. Tooth had his teeth - at least he assumes since he no longer had them - but he doubts he could ever get them back from her. He doubts he would see anyone besides Pitch again for a very long time.
"There was nothing saying that you could take them away from me. I understand that I'm…" Jack choked as he forced himself to say his next words. "Your slave for eternity or whatever." He gagged, getting a bad taste in his mouth but he quickly shoved it aside. "But we never said that you could take away my human memories. Give them back."
"I wouldn't exactly call you a slave, Jack. As I said in Antarctica, we could be family," Pitch calmly scolded, ignoring the rest of Jack's demands. He smiled at his new charge, understanding and patient. "You're acting like a child with a tantrum."
Jack was taken back. "What -"
"Although," Pitch mused, hand playing with some nightmare sand. "You are forever a teen and will never age again, so it makes sense. And your 'center' is so childish - it was probably what he was aiming for when he chose you. It's sad, that you – perhaps the most innocent of all the Guardians – had to suffer the most. Doesn't it upset you, Jack? To be robbed of your childhood?"
The conversation shifted so quickly and unexpectedly, Jack found himself answering honestly, "I don't like to think about it. I never thought about my life before the Man in the Moon gave me my name. It was too painful to me. I didn't think I even had a life before I became Jack Frost."
But I did! I…
"Does it hurt, Jack?" Pitch asked sincerely, taking hold of his shoulders and pulling him into a comforting embrace. "It's okay, it won't anymore. I won't let it."
Jack couldn't bring himself to move, drowning in loneliness. Pitch's words managed to pull him back to the surface, but Jack wasn't fooled. He shoved the man away. "Stop playing with me. I want my memories back. Now. They're not just a bargaining chip you can use against me, they're something that you had no right to take."
"You think I took them? Jack, you pushed them away." Pitch wasn't amused anymore, and Jack could have sworn he saw something flash through the man's golden eyes that he identified as anguish before it was replaced with anger. "Don't accuse me for something you did yourself. You were shoving pain out, and I simply complied and took it away. I did you a favor. Come along, there's one final test I want you to take and we're lost enough time as is." Pitch began to walk away, but Jack refused to leave his spot.
The Winter Spirit placed his feet firmly on the ground, crossing his arms and gripping his staff tightly. "'Favor' my ass! I'm not going anywhere until you give me back my memories. You had no right!"
Jack didn't know what happened. One second Pitch was at least five feet of distance in front of him, the next he was lifted a few feet in the air by the man, strangling him and taking the moisture from his skin by the creeping black sand. Jack choked for air, for a moment lost in the drowning sensation that ended his humanity as it flooded his mind as soon as the contact took place. Jack didn't need to breathe, but his mind didn't process the fact that he was immortal and didn't follow certain rules that he had to follow before. He flailed his arms like he would have struggled for the surface for air if the water wasn't so cold, not wanting to be reminded of this memory compared to all the other ones he rediscovered.
"I don't think you understand what's going on here, Jack." Pitch tightened his grip, face to face with his new companion. Jack's eyes were glossy as his mind was trapped in the last memory of his human life, but Pitch continued all the same, "You surrendered yourself to me to buy those fools extra time. What you didn't realize is that it doesn't matter how much time you give them because they have already lost. I know it, they know it, but it doesn't matter anymore."
Jack managed to break free from the feeling of dying over and over again as Pitch loosened his grip on his neck, but continued to strangle the teen. While trapped in the memory sensation, Pitch's words rang clear and stuck in Jack's mind. He wanted to deny it, but...
"If it's any compensation," the man continued, "I'm leaving your first believer alone entirely. His friends I could care less about, and they will be mine soon enough. Though children's fears are the most delicious, I can wait a few years when they will no longer have protection from the Guardians."
No, they could never lose faith, not when they actually saw them. Seeing is believing, right? And they could never forget seeing the Santa Claus, Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy. Besides, Tooth wouldn't let them forget something that may have been the highlight of their childhood.
She had the teeth…right?
Jack was pulled out of his thoughts as Pitch ran his fingers of his free hand though his snowy hair, dusting away the snowflakes that he picked up. It was a very weird sensation, but at least Jack was no longer drowning. It was relaxing, peaceful even. He closed his eyes, finding himself easing into the touch, until Pitch spoke again.
"But you don't have to worry about those things. Soon enough you'll even forget about Jamie."
Jack snapped to attention and widened his eyes, all of his thoughts going to Jamie. Jamie, the little boy from Burgess, who believed in creatures like Bigfoot and refused to give up hope even when everyone else did. Jamie, who was the whole reason he was here with Pitch for. Jamie, who was perhaps the best thing that happened to him after becoming Jack Frost. Jamie - his first believer.
There was no way he could ever forget about Jamie. Despite whatever Pitch said or would do to him, that was the only thing he refused to believe otherwise.
Pitch chuckled, bringing Jack to attention. "You will, Jack. I can see your disbelief and skepticism in your eyes, but you will. You'll forget all about little Jamie Bennett. But even if you ask me to consume him in his doubts and fears, I won't because I am a man of my word. But enough about that. There's only one thing you need to know." Pitch pulled Jack closer to his face, eyes looking directly into each other's with only inches of space in between.
Pitch whispered, but to Jack the quality of the voice was all wrong with the weight his words held. "You belong to me now. Everything that you own is mine now. Your memories? You gave them to me the moment you gave yourself to me."
The Boogeyman released his grip and dropped Jack to the floor, falling on his knees. The teen coughed, trying to soothe his throat as air came back to him – the action making him feel human but Jack knew that he could never be again.
"The next test won't be needed. This was more than enough. As I suspected, you're not ready, Jack." Pitch grabbed his wrist and began to drag him down the hall. "But it's fine. We have all the time in the world. It only delays my official victory." He chuckled. "Not that I need it to be official, everyone knows I already won."
Jack's feet were getting scraps from the sharp stones on the floor. Jack struggled, but was unable to free himself. The Winter Spirit snatched his hand away and coughed, throat sore from the earlier suffocation but wasn't able to keep silent anymore. Jack's voice was hoarse as he whispered, "Stop with the mind games. You don't see me as a person, you see me as a possession. A spoil of war. I know what you want, Pitch. To use me."
Pitch halted in his tracks. He spun so quickly and they were face to face; Jack became slightly dizzy. Pitch looked appalled. "Me? I want to use you? Get your facts straight, Jack. I don't want to use you. We're so alike you and I. Never being seen, never being believed in even after providing so much to the world. I would never want to hurt you. I never did. Those Guardians, they are the ones who used you."
Jack couldn't take it anymore. He covered his ears, crutched over himself as he wasn't able to move another inch. "Stop lying! Stop…" He lost his voice.
Pitch placed his hand on Jack's cheek, brushing away some stray hair over those sapphire eyes. Jack jerked, trying to get out of his touch, but Pitch grabbed his chin. "The truth hurts, doesn't it, Jack? I know it does, but just think about it. I can take the memory away later. They ignored you for so long, and only now, after…" He made a face as he spat, "After the Man in the Moon told them to fetch you did they make an effort. Don't confuse that for the love and acceptance you deserve. North? Following orders. Sandman…" He didn't finish as a flash of pain ran through Jack's eyes. Pitch continued down the line. "Toothania could care less. To you she's just another burden she has to keep in line, and everyone knows how many of those she already has. And don't get me started on the Bunnymund. He was so firm on you not joining their little gang. They needed you, but they didn't want you. They only contacted you because they were told to by their 'father' up there." He pointed upwards, but there was only the ceiling of dry earth.
It's true Jack didn't know them for long so he couldn't confirm anything Pitch said, but he couldn't deny it either. Because they did leave him alone for so long. But Jack didn't want to believe it. Even if they had known each other for such a short time, the time they spent was real. Their love and acceptance was real.
That was, until they saw him holding a certain tooth box in his hand.
Jack shook his head and refused to let his eyes water. 'That's not true…' he mouthed, currently unable to speak.
"And, of course, our dear friend who lives on the Moon didn't say anything to you. Three centuries of silence, Jack. Do I seriously need to spell it out to you?"
Jack tried to push Pitch away with his staff, albeit feebly. Pitch merely pulled him in closer and added, "But it'll be alright. After all, I'm the only one who knows what you went through. My love and acceptance is real, Jack, unlike theirs."
Desperate to speak, Jack found that his throat had healed and he had his voice again. "Just leave me alone," he whispered, finding himself with an empty, hollow feeling inside.
Pitch nodded. "It's been a long day with many revelations, I understand." He smiled at Jack, who missed it with his head down and eyes closed. "I'll bring you back to your room."
Gently, he took Jack's hand. Jack couldn't find it in him to shake him off as Pitch led him down the rest of the hallway, and back into the room Jack had first awaken in. His fern pattered frost had yet to melt and still decorated the floor.
Jack was led back to his bed, but he didn't want to sleep. Not when he was staying with the Nightmare King. He didn't want any dreams. "No," he whimpered, but found himself under those thin sheets once more. He shook them off and sat up in the bed, watching Pitch sit down on its edges. Jack shied away from the man, but that didn't create any distance between him and the particles of sand that crept into his eyes.
Pitch stated, "But I must inform you of your grade before you retire."
Jack held his head unsteadily, a drowsy feeling slowly overtaking him. "I… What?" Weakly he willed for the frost on his sleeve to illuminate, and quietly sighed in relief when his hoodie was still a midnight blue.
Pitch grinned as Jack blinked at him tiredly. "Or would you like for me to tell you tomorrow?"
"I…I passed didn't I?" Jack's voice was slurred, barely able to stay awake. "I didn't leave. I made the correct choice. I…" Jack closed his eyes, sleep overtaking his desire to continue conversation.
Pitch laughed as his sand retracted back to his person, and placed his hand on Jack's hair again, petting him as he fell into a darkness he was comfortable with.
"Just passing one segment doesn't mean you pass overall."
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A/N: I'm writing this as I go along. I do have a basic plot down, but if you guys want to see anything let me know. Please review and tell me what you think! You have no idea how much I really need it.
Thanks for reading!