OK…I KNOW I'm supposed to be working on other things…but this idea grabbed me by the throat and refused to let go until it was written.
This chapter is dedicated to Mystichawk, and miraeyeteeth…simply for the fact that they have gotten me addicted to all things Pitch fanfiction.
IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT YOU GUYS!
So enjoy what I hope to be a sporadic arc where we look into…Pitch's passion
Jack flew over Chicago, his face a happy smile as he looked down on the seemingly endless masses of people rushing to and fro. It was late fall, and all were bustling about shopping for thanksgiving and preparing for the inevitable family dinner scarcely a week away. The air was crisp, and wind playful, the perfect day to go flying. Tucking his arms into his sides, the boy allowed himself to plummet down to the ground, pulling up at last minute so to gracefully land on a stop light currently directing traffic.
He loved Chicago, mostly for the fact that it was aptly named the "Windy City", which was true because the wind played and frolicked here in a way that it didn't anywhere else. Whether it was due to the strength of the wind building up from running unhindered across the flat open plains of the countryside, or because of the air currents from one of the Great Lakes that lay right beside the big city, either way when those two clashed it almost felt like two football teams crashing together at the start of the Super bowl, and it was just as exciting. Jack sometimes felt like he was a surfer riding nonstop rogue waves all over town, and it took his breath away from the sheer amount of enjoyment he obtained from the experience.
But the thing he loved most about Chicago was its people. The state of Illinois, among others, was known for its ability to raise hardy people who didn't flinch at a snowstorm. Much like Indiana, Minnesota, or even Wisconsin and Pennsylvania, these people could get three feet of snow, and thirty below zero plus wind chill, and not even bat an eye. Jack loved that about them. It made it feel like a challenge for him to try and get the kids a snow day when the school had buses that were equipped with special tires made specifically for driving in snow, and he had even seen one with a plow on the front. The snow sprite had no end of fun waging war with the school systems of the Northeast, and sometimes he won, sometimes he lost, but either way he would never give in. The children were just as tough as their parents, walking around in twenty degree weather in nothing more than a light jacket or a heavy sweater to keep them warm, and Jack delighted in drawing those daredevils out for special snowball fights.
Smiling at the thoughts that connected him so dearly to this city, Jack almost missed the shadow skitter across the street and go into the Broadway. Cocking his head, the winter sprite frowned as he contemplated just what Pitch had planned in a theater, before flying off the stoplight and ghosting into the theater slipping in just as the front door was about to close.
Sneaking in, the boy stopped, his ears perking at music playing in the main theatre hall but when he saw another shadow of a small nightmare flit by in his peripheral the boy continued his quest searching for the Boogeyman. Walking up a flight of stairs in the back, the spirit found himself in the third balcony section, the one closest to the ceiling, which was apparently closed for remodeling. What he found would send him into a state of shock. Pitch black, aka the Boogeyman, sat in the front row with his feet propped up on the railing and his head was leaning all the way back with his eyes closed as he mouthed the words to the song being sung. His arms were crossed comfortably, and one finger gently directed as the music flowed over him. Jack had honestly never seen Pitch look so relaxed and…peaceful.
Suddenly the Boogeyman opened his eyes, and cast two fiery yellow orbs on the winter spirit, a glare of obvious hate and disdain practically sparking in the darkness of the balcony. Jack shuffled his feet uncomfortably, one pale hand giving a small wave "Uh…H-Hey," he chuckled nervously.
"Jack Frost," the dark man spat "must you ruin everything? The past I can understand due to your being a Guardian, but intruding on my private time is beyond rude and entered the realm of the obscene."
Jack shrugged "I didn't know?" he offered "I mean, I see one of your nightmares enter the theatre, I was just investigating what it was doing here."
Pitch pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a heavy sigh as he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he fought to maintain his cool "They follow me, Frost," he growled as he fastened his angry yellow gaze back on the child "it sort of comes with the territory of being the Nightmare king, now if you please, leave me alone."
"I can't do that," Jack shrugged "because now I want to know what you're doing here."
"What's it look like I'm doing?!" Pitch snarled "Can I not even have one afternoon by myself without some Guardian meddling in my affairs?"
"I was just asking a question," Jack grumbled with a pout as he crossed his arms and set his chin in a stubborn tilt.
"Fine," the Boogeyman groaned "I am merely minding my own business, enjoying a production of a particular favorite of mine, is that so terribly wrong?"
"Nope," Jack chirped with a sudden smile "so whatcha watchin'?"
"It's called Les Miserables if you must know," Pitch sighed.
"Doesn't that mean "the miserable" in French?" Jack asked incredulously.
"Yes," Pitch snarled "thus its appeal."
Suddenly Jack turned thoughtful "Didn't they just make that into a movie?" he asked absently.
The Boogeyman moaned almost as if he were in pain "Don't even think that you can compare this to that creation. Movies have their place, I agree, but when it comes to Opera and musicals, the live production will always be better than some…film."
Jack shrugged and then shot the specter a grin "I'll just have to be the judge of that."
"Wait…" Pitch paused his eyes growing wide "you're going to…stay?"
"Sure, why not!" Jack chirped.
Pitch blinked slowly as the gears in his brain burst into overdrive processing the sheer impossible situation currently staring at him, the idea of a Guardian spending an afternoon watching his favorite Broadway production was just…ludicrous! But somehow, it made him give pause, maybe he could, no, he shouldn't be thinking this, but just maybe he could allow the boy a moment of his time.
"Alright," Pitch murmured softly "if you really wish to see, then you must sit here and watch the whole thing all the way to the end, only then will I allow you stay."
Jack pursed his lips, was he really considering watching a Broadway production with Pitch? Finally after a few moments contemplation, Jack shrugged and flashed Pitch a smile and a thumbs up "Okeydokey, I can do that."
"Good, then you can sit over her-"
Suddenly the sound of violins in the orchestra pit caught Pitch off guard and the man spun around and raced to his seat, causing Jack to scuttle after him.
"What's going on?" the boy whispered.
"Shhhh!" Pitch hushed "be quiet, the solo is about to begin!"
A woman dressed in rags, her hair cut close to her head, stumbled on stage only to collapse on the floor and stare out on the audience with tearful eyes and a hopeless face. Opening her mouth, she began to sing, and Jack looked over to Pitch his own eyes wide with wonder as he watched a sudden change overtake the formerly intimidating dark spirit. His eyes closed in seeming rapture, and as he directed with on finger, the man mouthed the words to what Jack could only assume was his favorite song.
I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame
Jack bowed his head, listening to the words, and slowly comprehending the meaning they must have held for the Boogeyman, Pitch however was lost in the music his head once again tilted back as he strained to get every ounce of acoustics that he could and truly immerse himself in the song.
And still I dream she'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.
Pitch drew a shaky breath as the song once again wove its spell over him, and rendered him helpless in its grasp. There were few things that could cause him to become emotional, and music was one of them, especially this particular Opera. No matter how many times he watched it, no matter how many languages it had been translated into, this song always touched him to his deepest core and caused him to feel more deeply than he dared care to think about.
"Pitch…you ok?"
The small voice at his side caused the Boogeyman to jump, he had forgotten Jack's presence due to his favorite song and the exquisite quality of the current actress playing Fantine's character "Of course I'm ok," Pitch snarled "what would ever lead you to believe otherwise?!"
"…That…"
Jack pointed a finger at the man's face, and Pitch gave an angry swipe only to stare horrified at the tear that had somehow managed to crawl its way down his cheek. Giving a heavy swallow of embarrassment the Boogeyman turned around and folded his arms with a huff "It's nothing," he growled "it's merely a product from the fact that its dusty up here and my allergies are acting up."
Jack raised his eyebrow incredulously before turning back to the show, his blue eyes watching the action intently "What's going on?" he whispered.
Pitch leaned over "Well you see-" suddenly he shot back up face palming himself "What are you even still doing here?"
Jack sent a pout up at the dark man "You said I could stay," he huffed "so I'm staying, now tell me what's going on!"
Pitch rolled his eyes as he fought the smirk that was tugging at his lips "Fine," he said with a longsuffering sigh "it's not every day that I get to give a Guardian a culture lesson."
Bracing an elbow on the arm of the seat, Pitch leaned down and proceeded to explain the plot line "That man," he pointed onto the stage "is an ex-convict who is trying to better himself but no matter how much good he does he always seems to fall into some kind of trouble or get framed for some terrible crime. And that woman is a lady who is trying to find some way to earn money so to pay the exorbitant fees being billed to her by the innkeeper currently caring for her daughter. The man and that man, his name is Javert, are mortal enemies who somehow manage to become reluctant allies by the end."
"Cool," Jack drawled with a big smile "Ok, I think I got it."
Pitch nodded and straightened back up, and soon both were lost in the story being played for them. Jack's eyes were wide as he watched the drama unfold but as the plot progressed, the boy soon found his own favorite song that touched his core. A girl, also dressed in rags with dark mussed hair flowing down her back walked listlessly across the stage, her eyes dark with sorrow as she wrapped her arms around herself and began to sing her heart.
And now I'm all alone again nowhere to turn, no one to go to
without a home without a friend without a face to say hello to
And now the night is near
Now I can make believe he's here
Sometimes I walk alone at night
When everybody else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy
With the company I'm keeping
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head
Jack jumped, his senses alive as a sudden insecurity filled him, surely she wasn't talking about him? Jack had pretended to have a friend, not like this girl who imagined having a man whom she loved be by her side, but the winter spirit understood what it was like to wander the streets completely alone imagining what it was like having a family during those three hundred years of solitude. His hands gripping the armrests of the chair, Jack listened in rapt attention to the soloist as she continued her song of lonely sorrow.
On my own
Pretending he's beside me
All alone
I walk with him till morning
Without him
I feel his arms around me
And when I lose my way I close my eyes
And he has found me
In the rain the pavement shines like silver
All the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me forever and forever
And I know it's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself and not to him
And although I know that he is blind
Still I say, there's a way for us
I love him
But when the night is over
He is gone
The river's just a river
Without him
The world around me changes
The trees are bare and everywhere
The streets are full of strangers
I love him
But every day I'm learning
All my life
I've only been pretending
Without me
His world will go on turning
A world that's full of happiness
That I have never known
I love him
I love him
I love him
But only on my own
"Jack…are you ok?"
Jack cast startled blue eyes up to the dark man only to see Pitch staring at him with a self satisfied smirk. Feeling something tickling his cheek, Jack reached up and wiped away a half frozen tear, and chucked it out over the railing. Flopping back into his seat, Jack cast an indignant pout towards the stage.
"Allergies," he grumbled as a way of explanation "annoying things."
"Yes, yes," Pitch gave a dark chuckle "they always seem to strike at the strangest times."
After that the duo watched the rest of the play without further incident, and all too soon the cast was giving its bows to the applauding audience. Pitch himself was joining in the standing ovation, his hands a blur as he clapped, his face wreathed in an uncharacteristically bright smile.
"Bravo!" he called "Se Magnifique!"
The Boogeyman clapped and whistled all the way through the bows, and then turned to his companion "So Jack, what did you thin-?"
Pitch stopped, his face taking on a look of surprise as he gazed down on the child who had inexplicably fallen asleep. The man didn't know when it had happened, maybe it was during the intermission or shortly after when Marius had come on the scene and started making a mess of things, but whenever it had happened the winter spirit had succumbed to heat building in the room due to the amount of bodies packed in its seats below and fallen into a deep slumber. Heaving a sigh, Pitch refused to acknowledge the warm bubble of amused fondness that suddenly burst in his chest, and bent down to scoop the child up into his arms. Shadow walking, the Boogeyman dropped Jack off at his lake and then left.
Some hours later Jack slowly came out of his sleep, one pale hand rubbing his eyes as he tried to bring his sigh back into focus "…Pitch…?" he mumbled sleepily.
Suddenly registering the ice beneath him, the boy jolted upright, and looked around only to see his lake surrounding him "Man!" he whined with an aggravated punch to the ice "I missed the end of the show!"
Drawing his knees up to his chest, Jack hugged his legs and resting his chin on his arms with an unhappy pout as he sulked for a few moments about falling asleep and missing the end of the show "Now I won't find out what happens to Valjean and Cosette" he grumbled.
After about ten minutes of sulking, Jack decided that there was no use crying over spilt milk and determining within himself to catch the end of the show before the week came to an end. Standing up, the boy skated around the ice, softly humming one of the songs from the Opera as his mind reeled with what could have happened and how thing could have ended up. But something fluttering in the breeze caught his attention and made him pause, it was a note.
Jack
Had surprisingly good time despite the fact that you're a guardian and don't even have the smallest inkling of culture. You should catch the rest of the show, and this time stay awake.
P.
Jack chuckled over the surprising contents of the note as he began to puzzle over this newest discovery. Whistling his song, Jack shoved off and began to skate again, his mind abuzz with the thoughts that maybe wasn't as bad everyone thought he was.
I'M SO SORRY!
Like I said…I HAD to write this! I was singing in the shower and suddenly got the idea, what if Pitch was a Broadway junkie? And what if his favorite Opera was Les Miserables? And then my brain started clicking and my muses started hitting me upside the head, and it just wasn't pretty.
I.F.T.S. I am working on your request, a good friend gave me some inspiration, and I will be able to start working on it and make it as good as we all hope it will be.
Mystichawk, Miraeyeteeth, please let me know what you think as this chapter was dedicated to ya'll!