Pitch thought Tooth was a majestic sight in battle.
Wielding two scimitars, she bobbed and weaved, taking flight and dropping suddenly to deliver killing blows with flourishes as elegant as they were deadly.
This memory was more action packed than he had expected it to be: Tooth had told him it was of the night she first met Cupid. She had not mentioned she had happened upon Cupid trying to fight off about forty Fearlings.
Fearlings had been lesser minions of his years ago: not as tough as Nightmares and vulnerable to sunlight.
They were formed from the half remembered nightmares of children and weak anxieties such as fear of the dentist or of a pop quiz. They rarely lasted long but Pitch had been able to generate them en masse to act as 'fear harvesters', fetching him small bits of fear and worry to snack on to keep hunger at bay.
Once he had hatched the idea to create the far superior Nightmares from Sandy's dreamsand he had abandoned the fearlings altogether, dissolving them and absorbing them back into his own body.
After all, what good were servants who couldn't stand up to his enemies?
That being said, Cupid desperately zig-zagging to avoid them seemed to be having difficulty fighting them off. She was certainly using the urban environment to her advantage, leaping off buildings and throwing delivery crates at her attackers. From the chimes in the distance, Pitch knew they were in London. And judging from the gas lamps definitely not modern London.
Cupid looked very different from her new persona.
She looked the same age but was dressed in a simple, pale pink Grecian dress fixed with a golden heart shaped clasp at the shoulder. Her blonde, curly hair bounced in the wind as she moved. She was wielding a wooden bow, an obvious prelude to the slicker design she now sported. A quiver hung at her side to allow the wings at her back to move freely.
It was as Tooth had said a few days ago: every time one of her arrows struck a fearling it barely noticed. If she had not had Sandy under her control odds are her attempt to convert Pitch would have had a similar lack of effect.
As it was, by watching her would-be rescuer Cupid had realised her wings could act as suitable backup weapons and now, between them, they had nearly cleared the street. The remaining fearlings were retreating back into alleyways.
Cupid fell onto her backside, breathing heavily in exertion.
Tooth landed on top of a nearby empty carriage and sheathed her swords gracefully.
Her feathers shone, even in the bleak light and Cupid's eyes lit up as well.

'You're the Tooth Fairy!' she gasped, awestruck.

At Tooth's smile, Cupid self-consciously stood up and dusted down her robe. She took out a pin and tried to gather her hair into some kind of order. Her face was turning pinker than her robe.

'And you must be Cupid', Tooth said kindly, jumping down from the carriage roof.

'You know me?' Cupid asked, stunned hands halting their activity.

'Know you?' Tooth laughed, 'I've been sent to find you'.

Tooth found this memory of Pitchiner's was not like the others.
It was blurred and transient, the environment swimming around her as she floated down the dark corridors.
It was an old, unfocused memory and the reason quickly became apparent when Tooth finally caught sight of Pitchiner.
Tooth could tell from the smell resonance of the memory that he had been drinking. A lot.
His hair was dishevelled and greasy. It was longer than when she had last seen it and it hung lifelessly around his sallow face: obviously some time had passed between the memories. His scars remained but watching him move, Tooth concluded his unbalanced gait was more to do with the bottle in his hand than any injury to his leg.
He used the palm of his right hand to steady himself, the warmth of his touch leaving a ghostly mark on the shiny, black stone wall.
Tooth shivered as the atmosphere of the memory settled.
What she had thought was a corridor was actually a circular walkway. A railing to Pitchiner's left overlooked a vast drop down into more blackness. Torches that emitted pale blue lights flickered weakly against the encompassing gloom. As she walked behind Pitchiner (something in the air made her feel hesitant to fly for some reason), she realised that set into the walls were silver bars that glowed briefly as he passed. More moonlight steel.
She peered into the blackness beyond and was startled to see luminous, pupil-less eyes staring back.
They writhed and crawled impossibly: sometimes there were many, sometimes just one staring hatefully at their warden. Sometimes they lashed out with tentacles only to be repelled by the magical bars holding them in.
She could hear the familiar (yet no less disturbing) half heard voices and growls emanating from behind the bars and echoing around them. They were surrounded by dark magic.
Tooth realised this place must be the black cells: it was easy to see where Pitch had gotten the idea for his lair's aesthetics.
She hastened to catch up with Pitchiner who had come to a large oval door emblazoned once more, with the Tsar's symbol.
She slipped into the room as Pitchiner closed the door heavily.
The room must have been Pitchiner's personal quarters.
It was monastic: no decorations or tapestries with a simple bed, a desk, two chairs, a fireplace and a wardrobe. There was no window and the air was cool.
It was also a mess.
The bed was unmade, there were books scattered on the floor and the fire had burnt so low there were only two red embers remaining, glaring out into the room like angry eyes. The desk was covered in torn pages and spattered with ink from a much abused, tattered looking quill pen that lay abandoned amongst crossed out words and ripped up papers.
Tooth was surprised to see Pitchiner had company.
Sandy now had a beard as well as a moustache. It reminded Tooth of a golden cloud nestled beneath the Sandman's nose.
It did nothing to lessen the hard look in Sandy's eyes.
Tooth saw him look Pitchiner up and down as he added more logs to the pitiful fire.
Pitchiner waved a hand weakly in greeting before flopping into the chair behind the desk.

'Has it been three months already Captain?' Pitchiner asked, 'Time files when one is having fun'.

Sandy primly took the seat opposite Pitchiner, dusting his hands clean.

'I am not here for the usual scheduled inspection', Sandy said grimly, 'It has been two months since I was last here. Not that it seems to have made much difference'.

Pitchiner shrugged.

Sandy seemed to gather his thoughts then pronounced simply, 'The Tsar is dead'.

'Long live the Tsar', Pitchiner slurred, raising his bottle in salute.
Some wine spilled over and stained the desk but Pitch paid it no heed as he swallowed deeply.

'The funeral takes place tomorrow', Sandy said.

Pitchiner finished his drink and gave a satisfied sigh.

'You think I care?'

Sandy did not respond.

Pitchiner gave a bitter snort.

'Or did you come here to tell me I now have the opportunity to piss on his lordship's grave?'

'Watch what you say', Sandy said sternly.

'Who's going to hear?!' Pitchiner yelled, his words echoing into the high vaulted ceilings, 'Just you and me Sandy. Unless you're going to tell on me'.

'Of course not', Sanderson said, 'I'm your friend'.

'That's why the new little Tsar sent you isn't it? He thought I'd be happy to see you did he? Or did he bank on me actually listening to you?'

Tooth saw Sandy take a subtle, deep breath.

'He sent me because he is concerned about you', Sandy said, 'You refused to attend your family's funeral and-'

'I was not going to stand over a pair of empty graves', Pitchiner snapped, 'What do you want Sanderson?'

'I came here to see you', Sandy said openly, 'As a friend'.

'Well, friend, are you enjoying the view?' Pitchiner growled, taking another swig from the bottle.

Sandy crossed his arms and dropped his gaze.

'Too bad', Pitch sniped, 'Would you like a drink?'

Sandy cast a glance at where Pitchiner was gesturing sarcastically. Several discarded wine bottles lay on the floor. Some were smashed and drops of sour wine gleamed in the torchlight like blood droplets.

'It seems you've had enough for both of us', Sandy said, disappointment at Pitchiner's dishevelled state in every syllable.

'Not yet', Pitchiner shrugged, shaking his bottle gently, setting the liquid within swishing, 'Is there anything else?'

'Apparently not', Sandy said stiffly as he stood to leave.
As he began to turn, he abruptly stopped.

'I thought you ought to know: I spoke to Serafina before she died', Sandy said, 'She loved you very much'.

Pitchiner gave a guffaw of laughter.
The high pitched tone made Tooth's skin crawl.
Was this memory taking place before or after Pitchiner had been corrupted by darkness?

'So you come all this way to state the bloody obvious?' Pitchiner growled.

The look of shock on Sandy's face at Pitchiner's savage tone made Tooth realise her own mouth was hanging open.

'You think I don't know that? I know she loved me you idiot', Pitchiner said, voice trembling despite his anger, 'That's why she was waiting for me to come home. Speaking of which how does the new Tsar feel about that?'

Sandy said nothing but his eyes turned sad despite the disgust curling his lip.
Pitchiner's grip shook on the goblet.
'I see', he said quietly.
His knuckles were white.

'I brought this for you', Sandy said calmly, 'If you want it'.

He took a blue silk handkerchief out of his pocket and opened it carefully.
A silver medallion lay shining on the material.
Tooth recognised it as the clasp that had held Pitchiner's cloak closed in the previous memories.
He still wore his cloak (stained and neglected though it was) so why had Pitchiner discarded it?
Sandy gently clicked an unseen mechanism and the clasp opened.
Tooth realised it was not a clasp: it was a locket.
It contained a picture of Pitchiner's daughter alive and smiling.
Pitchiner gave a gasp that descended into a hoarse moan.

'Get out', he said, teeth grinding audibly, 'Take that with you. Let me rot in peace. As the Tsar commands'.

'Kozmotis-' Sandy began.

The bottle went flying across the room, ruffling Sandy's hair as it barely missed his head.
It smashed against the wall.
Sandy stepped back, holding the locket close to his chest protectively.
Pitchiner's face reminded Tooth alarmingly of a wounded animal: all teeth and anger swallowing the sorrow within him.

'Leave', Pitchiner snarled, leaning back like a snake about to strike, 'Before I kill you'.

Sandy seemed as if he was going to say more but then clamped his mouth shut and stalked from the room, tucking the locket back inside his robes.
Tooth saw Pitchiner lurch to his feet and stomp on a nearby intact bottle before sinking to his knees amongst the debris.
The memory faded to black.

'Not Pitchiner's finest moment was it?' Pitch said as Tooth opened her eyes.

'No. No it wasn't', Tooth said, rattled by the change in the General's personality she had witnessed.

She did not notice the triumphant gleam in Pitch's eyes as he changed the subject.

'Why were you looking for Cupid?'

'Manny told us to approach people who we thought might be interested in becoming Guardians', Tooth responded, trying to put Pitchiner out of her mind, 'He wanted to get an idea of how many 'good' spirits were on Earth so if the Guardian stone chose them sometime in the future they wouldn't be surprised. As you can tell, she was very keen'.

'I was certainly surprised when you approached me all those years ago'.

Tooth gave a noncommittal 'Hmm'.
It had been North's idea to approach Pitch. She and Sandy had been vehemently opposed citing Pitch's very nature as reason enough that he could not be trusted as a Guardian.
North however had gone by his lifelong belief that everyone deserved a second chance: a chance to do the right thing. So, despite Sandy and Tooth's claims he would be wasting his time, he had invited Pitch to the North Pole and asked him to join them.
To North's disappointment, Sandy and Tooth had been proven right.
But was that still the case?
What she had seen of Pitchiner unnerved her: for someone so great to fall so far…

'You're still thinking about Pitchiner aren't you?' Pitch said sharply.

Tooth knew Pitch already knew the answer. It must have been embarrassing for him for her to see Pitchiner like that. Perhaps despite Pitch's insistence they were not the same person, maybe he still resented how Pitchiner had been treated.

'It was hard to see him like that', Tooth admitted.

'You don't even know him', Pitch said dismissively, trying to supress his growing annoyance.
Why in the world was Tooth feeling so sorry for someone she'd never met?!
Not to mention a man as weak as Pitchiner had been!

'I don't have to know him to feel sad for him Pitch', Tooth said, 'I'd feel bad for anybody who was full of that much pain and confusion'.

'Let's get on with it', Pitch said in a clipped voice, 'Hopefully we'll find something useful this time'.

Confused by Pitch's obvious irritation at her natural empathy, Tooth closed her eyes and they resumed the session.

Cupid and Tooth were sitting on a sand dune overlooking a beach on a moonlit night.
They were taking turns throwing rocks into the calm, gently rolling waves.

'Are me and the Boogeyman the same?' Cupid asked abruptly.
It had the air of a child who had just mustered up the courage to ask a difficult question.

'In what way?' Tooth probed carefully.
Pitch noticed the way she stiffened.

'Our magic. We both get stronger from human emotions'.

Pitch noticed the look of relief on Tooth's face and the evaporation of the tension in her shoulders.

'That's where the similarities end', Tooth said.

'Are you sure?' Cupid asked, studing her next choice of stone, 'I've been thinking maybe my magic could help him? If he could only know what it's like to have friends and be loved-'

'No', Tooth snapped but then added in a softer tone, 'I know you want to help but Pitch Black is not someone you can reach'.

'You tried?' Cupid asked innocently, throwing her stone.

'We even asked him to be a Guardian', Tooth said, reaching behind her for a stone, 'He threw it back in our faces'.

'Why?!' Cupid asked disbelievingly, 'There's nothing better than being a Guardian!'

'He doesn't think so'.

'Why?'

'Because he only cares about himself. Because there's nothing in him but poisonous spite and bile. And because the only thing that brings that monster joy is hurting others'.

Tooth shuddered.

'To be honest I'm glad he refused: he makes my skin crawl', she said, hurling the stone with more force than she intended.

There was a ringing silence as it plopped into the water.
Obviously Cupid hadn't been expecting such a damning response from someone she obviously considered a mentor.
To his unpleasant surprise, neither had Pitch.
What Tooth had said was nothing new.
Hell, it wasn't even the worst thing someone had ever said about him.
All things considered it was rather tame.
But then why did it bother him?
That same prickling feeling he had felt when he had relived his first encounter with Tooth was back in earnest. It felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.
He was disconcerted to realise this sensation was akin to shame: he was ashamed of what Tooth thought of him.
The epiphany disturbed him.

'Trust me Cupid: you are nothing like him', Tooth said after a while, breaking into Pitch's reverie.

'You're sure?' Cupid asked, uncertainty in her small voice.

Tooth threw an arm around her fondly.

'You want people to be happy and you use your powers wisely', she said encouragingly, 'Keep doing what you're doing and you'll be a Guardian yourself someday'.

Cupid leapt up and saluted.

'I will! I promise!' she declared, 'I'll be just like you!'

'I'm glad you'll work hard', Tooth said, smiling fondly, 'Just remember: never lose sight of you'.

The pair awoke again but this time, Tooth made sure she spoke first.

'We're getting close now. Pitch I need you to do something for me'.

'What?'

'The next memory you see…well…' Tooth stammered, trying to articulate the dread she felt at the prospect of Pitch seeing it.

She looked at him patiently waiting and gave up.
She knew what the next memory would be.
She had been dreading seeing it again after all this time: desperately hoping there had been another reason Candy had chosen to abuse her powers other than what she remembered.
But the more she had seen of Candy's plan and the more she had thought about it, the more sense it made that this memory Pitch was about to explore had been the catalyst.
They had to stop Candy.
If that meant Tooth facing up to some bad decisions and hurtful words then so be it. If it meant other people finding out then it would be on her head and rightfully so.
No point making excuses now: she had to fix the mess she had helped create.

'Just…you'll see', she sighed, steeling herself mentally for the fallout the memory would cause as she and Pitch closed their eyes in unison.

Pitch was standing with Tooth and Sandy on a warm night.
He was surprised to see they were standing at the entrance to Burgess Park.
From the numerous posters on the park's wall denouncing the 'war' plastered with peace signs, Pitch postulated the time period was most likely the decade he had heard modern humans call the '60's.

'I didn't believe you', Tooth was saying to Sandy, 'But it's her isn't it?'

Sandy's face was grim as he touched her hand. A golden question mark materialized above his head.

Tooth squeezed his hand gratefully.

'No. I'll deal with it. She knows me'.

Sandy leant against the wall and nodded.
Tooth flew into the park.
Pitch had to jog to keep up.

He saw Tooth was flying towards a group of people.
It looked like a large picnic of some sort.
Flower garlands were strung up through tree branches and the park gazebo had been hastily painted bright pink.
Cupid was sitting on a nearby swing set but she leapt up when she saw Tooth.
She had a flower garland on her head.

'Tooth! Isn't it wonderful?! See? 100% success rate! Just like you!' she said happily, throwing her arms wide.

Pitch and Tooth looked at Cupid's 'work'.
A group of about thirty people sat in a circle holding hands. Their faces were blissful and contented but also blank. It was obvious they had no idea where they were or what they were doing.
Tooth watched one couple kiss sloppily, saliva dripping freely as they mindlessly moved their tongues. They had been at it for a while and it made for a distinctly unwholesome image.

'What's the matter?' Cupid asked.

'How could you do this?' Tooth asked.

Cupid obviously misunderstood the question as she beamed proudly.

'It was really easy!' she said, 'Instead of just using arrows on kids who just need a little nudge, I realised: 'Hey why not use them on everyone, kids and adults'?!'

She produced an arrow from the quiver on her back and eyed it critically.

'For some reason it ruins the arrows afterwards but small price to pay right? I can always make more and-'

Cupid stopped talking when she saw Tooth shake her head, face contorted in sorrow and anger.

'What's wrong?' Cupid asked, her face worried, 'Isn't this what you meant?'

Tooth's eyes snapped open as she suddenly grabbed Cupid's wrist.
Cupid gave a small cry of surprise and tried to wrench her hand away.
Tooth snatched the arrow out of Cupid's hand and looked at it.
It was warped with a bent shaft. The energy was definitely Cupid's but the colour was pale and watery. Occasionally a vivid pink bolt of energy would crackle along the glass shaft and dissipate at the tip. The tip itself was stained black but appeared to be leaking a venomous looking pink liquid. Tooth was careful to avoid touching it.

'What is this?' she demanded.

'I guess it's a…hate arrow', Cupid answered.

Tooth shuddered at the very name of it and threw it away in horror.
Tooth's face was hard as she turned her face back to Cupid but her violet eyes betrayed her regret and sorrow.

'This is sick Cupid', she said quietly, 'It's wrong and it's cruel'.

'But…I…I worked so hard!' Cupid protested, 'I don't understand!'

'That's the worst part', Tooth said, 'You don't even know why this is wrong'.

She released Cupid's wrist and rubbed her own face wearily.

'Why I was wrong', she said quietly, 'I was so wrong'.

'No Tooth! Please, I can still be a Guardian!'

'Not like this', Tooth said, gesturing around, 'You polluted your own magic!'

'How can you say that?! I worked so hard! This way is my only chance! Otherwise I'll never be good enough! You don't know what it's like Tooth! They don't stay happy! Childhood crushes only last one time out of a hundred! And so many people are sad 'cause of the war! I try and I try but-'

'So you just force them to be happy?!'

'No! I don't- Please it's, it's not-'

Cupid was desperately looking for justification.
She looked so small and helpless even Pitch felt uncomfortable with Tooth's stony silence.

'Can't you understand? Why don't you understand?!' Cupid pleaded, 'Don't look at me like that! Don't look at me like I'm- like I'm Him!'

It was obvious who 'Him' referred to.
Pitch scowled but what Tooth said next cut him to the quick.

'How are you any better?' Tooth asked softly.

Cupid burst into tears.
Pitch saw Tooth's face twitch but she controlled the emotions warring within her.

'Don't do this again Cupid. If you do, I'll erase your memory to make sure', Tooth said robotically.

Cupid's face was distraught and she reached out for Tooth.
Tooth turned her back.

'Please…just leave', Tooth said, holding up a hand, 'We'll speak again after I clean up this mess'.

Cupid pulled at her hair and screamed in impotent sorrow and rage as she took flight.
The ensorcelled group paid no attention even as Cupid flew out of sight, the scream following her into the night sky.

Once Cupid was gone, Pitch saw Tooth wipe her brow and dry heave. Sandy approached quietly from his hiding place and touched her shoulder lightly.
Tooth grabbed him into a hug and began to cry.
Pitch watched as Sandy held her, letting her vent all her pain and guilt and felt an all too familiar sting of jealousy that it was not him holding Tooth.
'But it's her fault!' a more cynical part of him raged, 'This whole mess was caused by idiotic female hurt feelings!'
Before he could muse on it further, he felt a sudden painful sensation in his head.
Another hit him that made him feel nauseous.
The pain was increasing by the second and he felt his limbs give an involuntary spasm.
The sensation was familiar.
Tooth had found the required memories and was trying to unlock his powers.
Reliving his pain must be necessary to the process. He was about to be transformed into the Boogeyman once more.
Pitchiner had felt like this when-
Pitch felt a dawning horror lurch his stomach.
If they were mentally linked then Tooth might feel it too!
All anger about what Tooth had said or thought of him vanished instantly.
Casting about desperately for the pilot light, he yelled into the fading memory of Tooth and Sandy: 'Tooth! Stop! Don't go alone! Tooth!'

Tooth was following Pitchiner again through dark corridors.
More time had passed.
Pitchiner, never a large man had wasted away even further.
His cheeks were gaunt ad dark shadows lurked beneath his watery, bloodshot eyes.
A long, tentacle like beard hung from his face, mingling with his ragged hair.
He looked like a man who, having given up on life, had elected to emulate the dead.
The voices from the cells were different this time: louder.
Mocking and callous, they called to Pitchiner as he passed their cells.
Such a pretty little girl you had General.
We ate her eyes first.
Your wife screams were like sweet music.
Then it stopped and they both fell down.
Pitchiner threw an arm out as if swatting invisible flies. He growled raggedly and gripped his head as if in pain.
Suddenly he screamed. A terrifying sound of despair that reverberated off the walls so there were a hundred Pitchiner's screaming.
The occupants of the cell hushed: a noise like a gigantic intake of air signalled their collective surprise at the sound.
'WHAT DO YOU WANT?!' Pitchiner screamed, 'LEAVE ME BE! WHAT MORE CAN YOU TAKE?!'
We do not want to take. We wish to give came the response from the cells.
You have been a good jailer but we grow bored of this place.
We grow lonely.
Lonely for pretty little lights to keep us warm.
Like she did.
'Like I did'.

Pitchiner's head snapped up at the last voice.
Tooth recognised it too.
A little girl's voice, happy and full of life.
Pitchiner ran towards the voice as its owner laughed gaily.
He stopped at one cell and looked inside.
Tooth couldn't see past him but thought she could see a little shape in the darkness.
It looked like Emily.
She could also see Emily had yellow eyes.
Pitchiner gave a sob at the sight, eyes swimming.

'Daddy, please come play with me'.

'No', Pitchiner groaned.

'Oh please! Then we can go find Mother'.

'She's dead! You're dead! Stop it!' Pitchiner shouted, 'I beg you! Just leave her be! Leave her alone!'

'Why are you saying these things Daddy? You're hurting me'.

'You are dead! She is dead!'

Pitchiner was practically frothing at the mouth as he pounded on the wall in time with his mantra.

Then there was silence save for his broken sobs.

Until the little voice began again.
But this time it was trembling.
Alone and scared.

'Daddy?'

Pitchiner looked at the figure in the cell.
Tooth was disturbed by the wild look in his eyes: this tactic was proving more successful than the previous one the shadows had employed.

'Daddy I'm scared!'

Tooth saw Pitchiner's fingers drift to his belt.
His cuticles and nails were chewed bloody and they fumbled amongst a series of keys.

'No it's a trick', Tooth whispered, knowing she was helpless to interfere.

She noticed the background whispers had stopped.
Every shadow in the building was watching the performance.

'They're coming Daddy!'

Pitchiner found the key, his eyes lighting up desperately.
'You know it's a trick', Tooth whispered as understanding dawned.

'Help me!'

It was in the lock.
'You just don't care', Tooth finished.

'Please help me!'

He turned it.

'HELP ME DADDY!'

Tooth thought she heard someone calling her: Pitch's voice.
His words were barely audible.
'Pitch?' she asked as Pitchiner threw open the cell door.

There was silence at first.
Then a growing roar like that of a great stormy ocean rushed in her ears.
She saw Pitchiner's form stiffen then bend backwards like a broken ragdoll.
He was mouthing something but she couldn't hear.
He was smiling serenely.
That was what truly scared Tooth.
He began to float upwards as the darkness rushed forward.
It swallowed his levitating shape and burst out of the cell.
It rushed over Tooth and to her horror, the memory began to feel more real.
She could feel their fingers on her face, digging into her skin as they clamped onto her.
She couldn't move: there were too many bodies around her! They were crushing her!
She began to scream but she had no words. Her teeth were cracking like kindling and blood was pouring from her eyes.
She couldn't see it but she could feel it!
She couldn't see anything!
Was this what dying felt like?
She was drowning in darkness even as she reached for the fading light of one of the wall lanterns.
Her hand looked so frail and weak she thought she could see her pulse trying to break through her skin.
The darkness was growing: it was swallowing her whole-
Suddenly she felt a physical pull from the real world.

Pitch hastily withdrew his hand.
The connection was broken.
As she opened her eyes, she saw the sweat coating Pitch's tense face.
'I need to do it alone', Pitch said, his voice thick.
Tooth realised why it had been so hard to unlock the memory.
Pitch had been actively keeping her out.
She felt sick and shaky, even as the memory of the pain swiftly receded.
She hadn't known how much the transformation into Pitch Black had hurt Pitchiner.
Sandy had never mentioned anything like the glimpse of agony they had both just experienced when he had previously told Tooth Pitchiner's story.
In the same instant, she realised the price of Pitch unlocking his powers this way.
He would experience the whole event again.
All that pain and sadness condensed and refined into a psychic key that would shock Pitch's powers awake again: remind them he was not Pitchiner but a creature they had spitefully twisted and designed to be their host.
She couldn't numb it or alleviate the suffering it would cause in any way.
Sandy had warned her that relieving traumatic events usually helped heal old wounds but confronting the pain of those events was part of the process.
But how could she put anybody through that pain?
That she had only begun to feel before Pitch had cut the connection?!
It was horrendous! It was monstrous!
And what made her feel truly terrible was that Pitch must have known.
He had cut the connection because he knew how painful it was going to be and he didn't want her hurt.
Even after she showed him this whole mess was her fault!
To Tooth's utter embarrassment and disgust she started to cry.
And not just little silent tears: heaving sobs complete with runny nose and a lump in her throat so thick it was as if she had swallowed a whole orange.
She covered her face with both hands, feeling the dampness of her cheeks spread to her palms.
She couldn't bring herself to look at Pitch.
Gods, why did she have to crack now?!
The race was nearly over.
Was she seriously going to stumble at the finish line?!
Why hadn't she thought about this possibility?!

She suddenly realised she could hear something over her sobs.
It was quiet but consistent: the sound of someone singing.
She raised her eyes hesitatingly and looked at Pitch.
He was taking her hand in his and stroking it with his other hand.
He was singing to her.

Still dream, and all the wonder that you knew
Will all come flying back to you
If you remember all the hope you left behind,
Open up your heart and change your mind
Oh, what you'll find if you still dream

Fly away, beyond the moon
A place you've been before
Castles made of sand,
A golden shore
And every wish you ever made
is marching in a dream parade

The song was so gentle and his voice so melodic Tooth felt compelled to listen.
She closed her eyes and tried to breathe in rhythm with Pitch's controlled intakes.
She imagined she could see the song in her mind's eye encircling them. It appeared in her imagination as a golden series of notes that morphed like dreamsand into a castle then a ship then a golden bird. The shapes swirled gradually above their heads into the dark ceiling where they hung like stars in a distant galaxy that held only herself and Pitch.

Tooth and Pitch were both unaware that a shadowy and unwelcome presence had just entered the lair.

Bunny crawled from a patch of shadows and tore his way into reality with his long, curved claws.
He straightened and sniffed the air, the dim light of the lair no impediment to him now.
The same had been true of the lair's defences: with Pitch's powers he could come and go as he pleased.
Now to locate his targets
He knew they would not come quietly.
He needed a distraction.
His keen ears picked up an approaching set of footsteps.
Four feet, moving in two by two rhythm.
A Nightmare.
He smiled, serrated teeth glinting.
Perfect.

Onyx had been wandering around for a while now, trying to figure out where to keep the arrowhead. There were plenty of old rooms in the lair but she wanted one with extra security. She didn't like the arrowhead and knew no good would come of it (despite its lack of power it still left a rotten taste in her mouth).
She sensed the creature ahead before she saw him.
It was a confusing and jarring sensation.
She froze in her tracks and felt inky sweat begin to run down her coat.
She tossed her head in consternation as the creature approached.
It smelt so strange.
She could smell the same stinking 'love dust' that was giving her the vile taste in her mouth and a very faint hint of fur and chocolate.
But there was another stronger smell that overwhelmed these.
It smelt like her master had before he had been weakened.
The creature's eyes shone like hers, golden shards in a twisted black form that resembled the exiled pooka Guardian her master detested.
She had to attack! She had to do something!
But she couldn't move.
The creature advanced towards her and despite her best efforts she could do nothing but stand helplessly.
She gave a shrill whinny of fear, the sound alien to her ears.
Nightmares feared nothing!
Save for their master…
The shadow pooka stomped a foot and Onyx felt her head jerk downwards in submission against her will. She ground her teeth against the arrowhead still in her mouth as she tensed, trying to strike back, to run, to do anything!
Then she felt the pooka touch her under her chin as he easily raised her head.
Her eyes met the pooka's as he glared at her.
She felt him begin to exert control.
She couldn't resist: the pooka was stronger than she was. An older darkness lurked inside him: a great pit destined and designed to consume lesser shadows like her.
Her legs wouldn't move. The shadows beneath her offered no escape.
She tried to cry out but her useless jaw just gaped silently.
The arrowhead fell to the ground with a clinking noise.
Onyx felt the pooka hammer at her mental defences, bringing them crashing down as he bent her to his will. He saw into her mind and absorbed the information hungrily.
Bunny smiled.
There it was.
The necessary trick to bring Tooth and Pitch's partnership to an end.
He yanked Onyx's mane so she was looking straight at him.
She couldn't resist his control anymore.
This creature was master now. Not the pale imitation in the library.
Onyx's new master gave his first order clearly.
'Bring. Me. The. Teeth'.

As Pitch finished his song, Tooth withdrew her hand. She wiped her eyes and lightly slapped her cheeks.

'Fibber: you can sing', Tooth smiled weakly, 'But… why share it with me?'

'I have nothing else to give you', Pitch said distractedly.
Comforting crying women was sadly not one of his talents but thankfully his instinctive gamble appeared to have paid off.

'Give me?'

'To say thank you'.

Tooth's heart gave an odd flutter at the gentle smile Pitch gave her. It didn't reach his eyes: they remained sad and lonely looking.

'For what?' Tooth asked.

'For giving me a chance'.

Tooth decided it was now or never.
So she asked him: 'Have you thought about staying…like this?'

'What do you mean?' Pitch asked, eyes narrowing.

'All those memories I've seen. Kozmotis Pitchiner was a hero'.

Pitch frowned and Tooth knew she had made a mistake using Pitchiner's name. It remained a sore spot.

'I suppose you think I should be honoured by that?' Pitch sniffed, 'Whatever he was, I am not a hero'.

'You could be', Tooth said, 'I know we asked you before but-'.

'I turned it down', Pitch interrupted.

'You still would', Tooth stated, stomach sinking, 'You don't even want to try?'

'You're forgetting who you're talking to'.

'I'm asking Pitch Black if he wants to keep skulking down here, mad about something that happened decades ago or if he wants to try doing some good?'

'Just because it happened years ago does not mean it doesn't matter. You've certainly forgotten how you used to think of me: 'monster' I think was the term? 'Poison' was another choice one'.

Tooth conceded that.
They had been hurtful things to say, even if she had believed them at the time.

'I'm sorry', she said, 'I didn't know you then'.

Pitch illogically felt angrier hearing Tooth accept the blame.
It made what she had said more 'real' somehow.
He could have always had the luxury of the lie that the memories he was seeing were 'subjective'. That was impossible now.
And what did she mean 'didn't know him'?!
What had changed between then and now?!
Then it hit him.
The memories of Pitchiner.

'You still don't know me!' he snapped, 'Though you seem to prefer a lie to the truth'.

'What do you mean?' Tooth asked, genuinely confused.

Pitch was about to retort but a familiar clip-clop noise distracted him.
Tooth also turned around.
Onyx had entered the library.
She unceremoniously spat the arrowhead onto the floor.
It spun in a circle and reflected the light from the lamps coldly as it came slowly to a stop on the flagstones.
Pitch glared at Onyx, his fury mingling with utter disbelief.
The Nightmare simply stared at the arrow, head bowed. She was standing so still she could have been a sand sculpture.

'What is that?' Tooth asked.

The quiet anger in her voice telegraphed she clearly knew what it was.
She looked at Pitch, jabbing a finger at the offending object.
Her violet eyes were like purple shards of flint.

'What were you thinking?!' she yelled.

Pitch flinched at the fury of the question.

'I don't know!'

'Were you going to use it?!'

'No!' Pitch shouted before lowering his voice as he went to pick it up, 'It's useless anyway'.

Tooth barred his path, wings buzzing angrily.
Pitch was unpleasantly aware of the sharpness Tooth's wings had at that speed and stepped back.

'Then why take it?!' she demanded.

'I don't know!' Pitch repeated.

'You took that arrow for some scheme or another Pitch! Now tell me the truth!'

The accusation angered Pitch.

'I am!' he retorted, 'I don't know why I took it! Now stop asking me!'

Tooth's wing slowed down and she sighed.

'How can I ever trust you again Pitch?!' she asked, more sadness in her voice now than anger.

The sincerity of the question blew Pitch's anger out like a candle on a cake.

'You…trusted me'.

Tooth's eyes grew hard again.

'My mistake', she said coldly.

Anger flared up in Pitch's breast again and this time, exploded uncontrollably.

'Alright then! Let's talk about trust! Why is it that everything you have done has just made things worse?! Maybe I should be the one concerned about someone having ulterior motives!'

'That's not fair Pitch!' Tooth protested, shocked.

'What was the plan Toothiana?! Weaken me so much I never become a problem for you again?!' Pitch yelled, unable and unwilling to rein his fury in.

'Stop twisting things!' Tooth demanded, 'I've been trying to help you'.

'Only to help yourself!'

'You think I would do that?!' Tooth gasped.

'You did such a fine job helping Cupid become a Guardian didn't you?! You could at least have done something useful and erased her memory because then we wouldn't be in this mess!'

'Stop it!' Tooth snapped, jabbing a finger into Pitch's chest, 'You lied to me! Were you going to join Candy?! Is that what this is?!'

Onyx spitting another object out caught both of their attentions.

It was a metallic, coffin shaped box. It landed on the floor and judging by the thud it made, it was heavier than it looked.
On the end of the long shape was an illustration of Pitch's face.

Tooth took a breath to calm her racing heart.
Oh gods no…

She made a move to grab the box but Pitch was quicker.
He snatched it from the ground and looked at it.
Tooth stopped in her tracks as she watched him look at it.

'Why join Candy?' Pitch asked, 'When it seems you and I are made for each other'.

He threw the box in the air and caught it smartly.

'Two liars together', he hissed.

'I found them in Candy's trailer! I only hid them from you to make sure they were safe!' Tooth cried.

'You thought I would take them by force', Pitch said quietly.

'Pitch, listen to me', Tooth said softly, 'They're not safe'.

'Neither am I', Pitch said, laying a finger on one of the diamonds etched into the box's surface.

The box glowed in his hand and he moved his fingers to the hinges.

'No! Don't-!' Tooth cried, throwing out a hand.

Pitch halted opening the box.

'So, you have forgotten who I am', he said with a cold smile.

'I know who you are!' Tooth snapped, 'Despite that I was beginning to-'

She caught herself and let the sentence trail off.
Did she really know who Pitch was?!
Maybe this had all been a puppy-dog act designed to get her to let her guard down!
Unfortunately her hesitation prompted Pitch to react.

'Oh please spare me! All that talk about being a hero! Is that what you want?! A hero to sweep you off your feet?!'

Tooth said nothing. She refused to be baited anymore.

'I don't even know why you're disappointed', Pitch continued, 'You know what I am. What I'm capable of! I can't change that!'

'Neither can I', Tooth said sadly.

The forlorn look on Tooth's face and the fact he was partly responsible was the last straw.
Pitch grabbed the hinges of the tooth box and began to prise the lid open.
Tooth flew forward and tried to wrestle it from his strong fingers but caught sight of something jumping down from above.
A large black shape with something glowing in its hand.
She cried out.
Pitch looked up and started to react to the incoming barely visible threat.
Then something hit the ground beneath their feet and the world dissolved into a swirl of colours.
Tooth had felt this before.
A snowglobe!
But where were they going?!

She landed on a metal surface, banging her face.
As her new location swam into view, she realised very quickly she was in a cage hanging from a ceiling. Outside the cage she could see they were in a warehouse of some sort.
She leapt to her feet and grabbed the metallic bars. They were strong and didn't budge.
A movement in the corner of her eye revealed Pitch was in an identical cage a few feet away from hers.
Tooth saw him try to summon the shadows to escape but nothing happened.
Looking at the bars made it clear why: they were moonlight steel.
She also saw a set of initials etched into them: N. St. N.
If these cages were North's handiwork, she and Pitch were Candy's prisoners.
Pitch had come to the same conclusion and was hurling himself against the bars in sheer rage.
Tooth knew it would do no good.
She leant against the bars, trying to ignore Pitch's animalistic grunts and growls as he tried to break the cage.
Well at least he obviously hadn't been in cahoots with Candy.
She had been so stupid: actually believing there might be more to Pitch than selfishness.
She heard Pitch begin to settle down, fatigue taking its toll.
As silence descended, something else occurred to Tooth, breaking through the resentment.
If that's true why didn't he use the arrow?
Because he knew it wouldn't work on her?
No.
He hadn't used it because he honestly never meant to take it.
Since this whole sorry episode began, he had never hurt her.
He'd even saved her life.
He had let her wander through his lair, cooked her dinner, talked to her.
They had even danced together.
None of those things had benefitted him at all.
Then why do it?
Because she had asked him to?
Or because...
Tooth felt a flutter in her chest despite the tumultuous confusion.
He had wanted to.

'Was any of it real Pitch?' she asked.

The question hung in Pitch's continued silence.
Tooth couldn't bring herself to look at him, her heart hammering at what his answer may be.
She heard him give a heavy sigh and sensed the expectation of speech.
But before he could say whatever he was intending to say, the door was thrown open.

'Gooood evening!' Candy sang, flinging her hands wide.

She was wearing a snappy pale pink business suit with black shiny heels. Her blonde hair was done up in an officious looking bun and her makeup was subtle save for a small sprinkling of glitter on each cheek.

'Please don't let me interrupt', she said graciously, 'Bunny just gave me a play by play of your little tiff. So cute!'

'Cupid-' Tooth began but Candy held up a finger.

'Keep that up and you don't get to come to my concert', Candy smiled, 'And I really want you to be there! I even saved you both seats'.

Pitch barked, 'You can stick them up your-'

Bunny punched the cage so hard it swung and knocked Pitch off his feet. Bunny hissed threateningly.
To his credit, Pitch returned a venomous snarl.

'Okay both of you quit it! Ugh, sounds like steam escaping in here', Candy sniffed, 'If Pitch doesn't want to be a gentleman that's fine. In the end what he wants isn't important is it? Just like my feelings weren't important eh Tooth?'

'When I found you after that night we talked about what happened!' Tooth snapped, referring to the memory Pitch had experienced earlier, 'Remember when I found you at Woodstock?! I said I was sorry for what I said and you accepted the apology!'

'No! If you recall oh-so-wonderful 'Guardian of Memories'', Candy snapped, using air quotes for Tooth's title, 'I said I 'was sorry you found out about it' and I would 'try harder''.

She threw her arms wide.

'Well ya didn't see this one coming did ya? Woodstock was a research trip: learned a lot about how love and music work together. Also learned that this crap doesn't come cheap! Or quickly! So don't accuse me of lying! I tried harder! What I said was wordplay at worst! Can I help it if you misunderstood? By the way that's a real bad habit of yours'.

Candy stroked the bars of Pitch's cage as she looked at him with mock sympathy.

'Don't worry Pitch. I understand you. And soon, you'll understand me'.

She took Pitch's tooth box out of a pocket in her suit jacket and kissed it. Pitch made a disgusted face.

'By the way, thanks for unlocking this for me', she purred, her smile growing at Pitch's hate filled face, 'We'll open it together soon'.

Bunn touched her shoulder. Candy gasped at the weight of his heavy paw.

'Idiot!' she snapped at Bunny.

'How's the wing?' Pitch smirked.

He was rewarded with Candy's cheeks colouring as she directed her anger at Bunny.

'I know you helped too!' she chastised, 'What's the deal nearly knocking me over?!'

Bunny deflated slightly but continued growling.

'Anywhoo', Candy said, cheerful mask back in place, 'I think that's enough gloating for now'.

She clicked her fingers and Pitch's cage magically unhooked itself and began to float out of the room.

'We know what you're trying to do Candy!' Tooth shouted.

Pitch's cage stopped floating and hung suspended in the air.

'Fat lotta good it'll do you', Candy said to Tooth, 'And even if Pitch knows what I got in store he's not gonna feel like helping you anymore in a little while. He'll be too busy being my new arm candy. Ha! Arm candy for Candy!'

'You're mad at me Candy!' Tooth said, 'What's Pitch got to do with me?'

Candy's eyes widened and she looked at Pitch then at tooth.
She began to laugh hysterically.
Tooth looked at Pitch confused.
Pitch was looking at Candy warily.

'You really don't know do you?' Candy practically shrieked with laughter, 'Oh gods! That is too funny!'

'Shut up!' Pitch yelled, face stricken.

Candy gave a wicked smile at Pitch's desperate cry then leant towards the bars of Tooth's cage.

'He's in love with you Tooth!' Candy said in a stage whisper.

Tooth didn't understand at first but then felt a rush of emotion as Candy's words became clear.
She looked at Pitch for confirmation but he wasn't looking at her.
He had slid down to a sitting position, his back to them both, head bowed.

'Or he's (at least) really madly crushing on you!' Candy continued, enjoying the drama, 'But from what you were saying, you're more interested in the 'before' shot right? A certain General?'

Tooth met Candy's smug look defiantly despite the mad beating of her heart.
Pitch really cared about her?

'Hey Pitch, do you think you make her skin crawl now?' Candy asked, nudging the bars of his cage with an elbow.

Pitch gave no indication he had heard Candy's jibe.

'Grow up Cupid!' Tooth snapped.

Candy's amusement vanished: Tooth's use of her real name had successfully distracted her.

'I need to grow up? What about you?' Candy mocked, 'Who knew you were so shallow? I mean, I give him a makeover and suddenly you're all over him. Gods, I can't believe I used to look up to you'.

'And I can't believe I ever thought you could be a Guardian', Tooth retorted.

Candy raised a fist impulsively but with effort, returned it to her side. Tooth saw a small figure in the doorway behind Candy. Sandy was putting Pitch to sleep as his cage drifted past him.

'Well, I'd love to sling more mud around but I got a schedule', Candy said coldly, 'Sandy?'

Tooth barely registered the ball of dreamsand before it exploded in her face.
She had been too busy looking at Pitch.