Time for another chapter. And more bonding moments. I hope that you enjoy.

"How do you appear and disappear?" Lucy asked, jumping off a stump and scampering back towards him again.

"I can travel through shadows," said Pitch as he moved steadily through the forest, hands tucked behind his back and staring ahead. "Anywhere there is darkness, I can melt away and reform somewhere else."

Lucy broke away from her aimless wandering to skip over, walking right next to him. He didn't slow his smooth movements nor did he look at her directly. But that was all right. He was still there.

He'd looked surprised when she asked Pitch if she could stay with him for a little while. Then his expressions got confusing for her to understand. He was quiet for a while, but he eventually started walking. Or maybe gliding. She couldn't see his feet all the time and his movements were really smooth. But he stayed and he even answered her questions. She liked that.

"That's cool. How?"

"I am made of darkness and fear. Among other things. Becoming a part of the shadows is far too simple, Little Light."

Lucy kicked at the old leaves on the ground, watching them flutter back down again. The forest wasn't too scary, especially when she wasn't alone. Even with the shadows from the trees, it wasn't dark. There were no big mean dogs or scary snakes or wild animals trying to gobble her up. Pitch would probably scare them instead. This was actually pretty fun.

"Is that why you don't like light? You disappeared that night when my nightlight came back on and stuff."

He turned his head slightly to look at her and gave her a nod. His golden eyes met hers and he almost seemed impressed.

"Observant. Good. Yes, bright lights and I don't get along well. It tends to end badly for me."

Lucy smiled and said excitedly, "Because you're made of shadows a little bit, right? It gives you a sunburn or something."

"That would be an understatement. At the height of my power, I could handle direct sunlight without an issue. But after… recent events… I am too weak to risk it," he admitted. "It'll take time to regain enough fear to have that kind of strength again."

She wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but Lucy understood a little. Something bad happened and hurt him so he couldn't go out in bright lights anymore.

Pitch jumped a little in surprise when she grabbed his hand. His expression did the thing where she couldn't quite figure out what he was feeling again. Lucy tried to reassure him with a quick smile.

"I'm sorry," she said gently.

He didn't pull out of her grip, but he seemed stiffer than before. But he didn't seem afraid. Not quite. And it would be silly for the Boogeyman to be afraid. He just didn't seem comfortable.

"I deserved what happened that night for my actions. Regaining my rightful mind and clearing it of unwanted influences, even at the cost of my strength, was a fair trade," said Pitch slowly, his words heavy and his eyes closed. "I made… many mistakes. I am trying to discover… or rediscover my purpose in this world."

"What is your purpose?" she asked, tilting her head.

He opened his eyes and gained a small and crooked smile. Pitch didn't look particularly happy though. She wasn't sure what he was feeling. Grownups could be so confusing sometimes. Even grownups like the Boogeyman.

"Maybe if you ask the moon, he'll tell you. He was vague and unhelpful when we last spoke about it. Of course, he has never been the greatest conversationalist."

"What does that mean?" Lucy asked, focusing on the unfamiliar word.

His smile shifted to something more honestly amused rather than the strained thing like before. She liked it better when he seemed amused instead of that complicated and strange expression.

"It means that the moon doesn't say much. We may speak to him all that we want, but he rarely answers back."

"Maybe he just talks really quietly," she said. "Mommy, Daddy, and Ben don't hear Kitty, but I do. Maybe the moon told you, but you didn't hear him right."

"Perhaps, Little Light."

Tilting her head, she asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because that is what you are," Pitch said simply.

She giggled and said, "That's silly. I'm not a light. I'm a girl."

"You're a Believer. A bright light in the darkness of humanity's skepticism and inability to trust without undeniable proof. And the name 'Lucy' comes from the Latin name 'Lucius,' which is based on the word 'lux.' It means 'light.'" Noticing her expression, he added, "I am quite familiar with all the languages used on this world. I was there to hear them develop and evolve through the ages."

"My name means 'light?' That's so neat. What about my brother? What does 'Ben' mean? Is it really cool too?" asked Lucy excitedly.

"Benjamin? It comes from a Hebrew name. Literally, it means 'son of the south' or 'son of my right hand,' but it would be more accurate to say it means 'favored son.'" Pitch gave a small chuckle. "His name is not quite as meaningful as yours."

"Okay." She fell silent for a moment, hugging her stuffed animal close. After a little thought, she asked, "What do you mean I'm a Believer? You made it sound important and complicated."

"For beings like me? They are essential. Children have far more belief than adults when it comes to magic, especially in these times. And that belief gives us strength. Well, belief and fear in my case," he described, shrugging at the end. "Without belief, we cannot be seen, heard, or touched. Without children like you believing in the Boogeyman, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, and Jack Frost, we weaken and fade into obscurity. It is worse for the Guardians, but it is true of all the spirits, elementals, and monsters to an extent. Without Believers, we are nothing."

Lucy's head was whirling as she tried to understand it all. There was so much. Everything he told her sparked off even more questions. She couldn't ask them all. But she loved it. She loved hearing him explain everything. He knew so much.

Most of her fear from almost falling off the log was gone. Curiosity helped her forget and think about other stuff. She didn't feel as afraid as she wandered the shadowy forest with Pitch. He was still a little scary, but he didn't scare her.

And he hadn't pulled his hand away. He was still holding it as they walked.

"Who's Jack Frost?" Lucy asked. "I don't know that one."

Glancing down at her, Pitch said, "I suppose since his first Believer gave me a few more with his story, it would only be fair to return the favor. Very well, Little Light. Do you wish to hear the story of a boy, one at the edge of adulthood and yet still child, who became an elemental spirit? Not a very happy story at times, but most of my tales are scary or tragic."

She wasn't certain that she liked the idea of a sad or scary story, but Lucy wanted to know who Jack Frost might be. He sounded like he was the same kind of person as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, but she didn't remember any holidays with him. She wanted to know more. And he was really good at telling her important stuff. Maybe it would be worth a sad or scary story.

Lucy gave a nod while tightening her grip on his hand. He hesitated a moment, searching her expression. Then he gave the girl a nod of approval.

"Three hundred years ago, there lived a boy and his sister," recited Pitch solemnly.

He'd forgotten the insatiable curiosity of children. While the results of pursuing their curiosity might lead to frightening situations, Pitch rarely dealt with them on a personal enough level to notice anything beyond fear. He couldn't remember how long ago it was when last a small child bombarded him with questions. As soon as he answered one, Lucy asked another. Even the story of the tragic death that lead to the existence of Jack Frost, a tale he'd uncovered during the raid on the Tooth Fairy's palace resulting in a particular set of baby teeth, was an answer to yet another question. She never stopped.

Pitch honestly didn't know for certain why he agreed to her request to stay. He had no reason to remain, especially once her blind terror settled down to her more typical background levels of fear. But he did. Just like he chose not to turn her dreams into nightmares. He agreed to stay with the young child and thus ended up facing her endless questions.

Actually, he still wasn't certain why she asked him to remain. What child wished for the presence of the Boogeyman? Especially a child filled with so much fear?

She'd grown quiet when he described the boy falling through the ice and drowning. It scared her a little, reminding Lucy of her fear of deep water. She didn't even try to hide it. He enjoyed that brief moment as he listened to her whispered fears. But even those fears faded when the story shifted to Jack Frost's current role as a playful spirit who brought snow and ice. Pitch left off the most recent part about what happened around Easter and all that involved. That was a tale for another day.

As the story wound down, Pitch began to hear voices shouting. Real voices rather than fears calling to him in the back of his mind. Lucy perked up and started tugging on his hand excitedly. Uncertain what had her so worked up and faintly bemused, he let the child pull him along.

Somehow with their meandering through the forest, they had wandered to the top of a small hill overlooking what could either be a trash pile or a poorly-built shelter. And scampering in front of it was a pair of boys. The dark-haired boy looked a little like Lucy, so he could guess he was the infamous Ben. The blond boy was more of a mystery. But the strangest thing was how the pair shouted, laughed, and swung sticks at each other wildly. He could only stare in horror.

"What are they doing?" he asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the spectacle.

"Ben and Kyle are having a sword fight," said Lucy helpfully.

Gesturing at the older children in the distance, he said, "That is not anything resembling a sword fight."

"Uh-huh."

"Just look at that grip on the blond. One strong blow will make him lose his weapon completely. And what about that footwork? Neither of them have any sense of balance," he said, building into a proper rant. "No finesse in their strikes. No real defense. Look at that. Look at all the holes in that boy's defense. Any opponent with even a shred of skill would kill him instantly."

It didn't matter that Pitch hadn't held his own sword in several millennia, certainly not in combat. He remembered how. He remembered the proper forms that were trained into him until they became reflex and those reflexes guided him in battle. He may no longer be the good general that once fought any challenge, but that knowledge remained. And as a soldier, what he saw was an embarrassment. He couldn't keep back his words. It was like the man who trained him in combat decided to rise from the grave and borrow Pitch's voice.

"I thought Ben was good at sword fighting. He and Kyle do it all the time," said Lucy.

"Just because he tries it regularly does not mean he's successful."

She glanced down briefly with a thoughtful expression before looking back up at him and asking, "Do you know how to sword fight?"

"Compared to what those two are doing? I'm an expert," he said simply.

"Can you teach me?"

He froze, staring at the excited child. What was he doing? Why was he indulging the child so much? This wasn't right. It was like how he could not bring himself to twist her innocent dreams into nightmares. Even though he should have left earlier, he remained at her request and even answered her questions. And now the girl was asking him to teach her swordplay. He was the Boogeyman. And even with her constant undercurrent of fear, this wasn't what he expected. This wasn't what the Boogeyman was supposed to be.

But he also didn't like how things were in the past. That dissatisfaction was what allowed the corruption to influence Pitch so strongly and led to his dangerous plan in the first place. In some ways, this was better.

"Do you truly wish to learn, Little Light? What you ask for will not be easy," he said slowly. He chose his words cautiously, carefully treading on this new ground. "Learning the sword is not a skill quickly gained. It takes hard work and practice."

He didn't expect the serious and thoughtful expression that overtook the child's face. She was clearly considering his words carefully. Most children her age wouldn't understand the weight of what she was requesting. He wasn't certain Lucy comprehended it either, but she was trying.

Lucy wanted to learn. She was eager for it. So much like another small girl so long ago.

…"Daddy, is it right?" his daughter asked, holding up the rope for inspection.

He gave the knot a sharp tug, making certain the rope didn't give. He smiled at the girl, producing a bright grin in return. He loved how she shone like a supernova when she was happy.

"That's exactly right. You'll be an expert in no time."

"Show me more. I want to know more."

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, he untied the rope and said, "All right. We'll try another one. This knot is a little trickier, so pay attention."

His hands started going through the familiar motions while his daughter leaned closer, her golden eyes watching his movements closely. She didn't want to miss a thing…

"Yes," said Lucy firmly, pulling him from his memories. "Please teach me, Pitch Black. I'll work really hard. I promise."

They were different. His daughter wanted to learn sailing and everything connected to it, how to cross space in the ships of their people. Lucy wanted to learn the sword so she could play with her brother in the mock battles he flailed his way through. The two girls weren't the same person. If he intended to remain near the child, he needed to keep that in mind.

"Very well," Pitch said finally. "Come along, Little Light. We'll need flatter ground and fewer things to trip over for your first lesson."

Lucy practically bounced as he led her back the way they came. Hopefully they would find a stick to serve their purposes along the way.

"Move your feet. They're out of position again."

"Sorry," Lucy apologized, trying to regain her earlier stance as her face scrunched up in concentration.

Pitch was right when he told her this was hard. Ben mostly waved his stick sword around in wide arcs that looked impressive. Pitch focused more on making sure her hands and feet were in the right places. And the swings were slower and more controlled.

"Pay attention as you go through the strike. Make sure you get the motion right," said Pitch. "Speed and power comes later. The technique is more important at this point."

He'd shown her two moves so far. One was an attack and the other was to block an attack. He made certain she could do each one perfectly, adjusting her hands, feet, and arms so they were perfect. It was hard, but she tried her best. And it seemed easier the more she did it.

"Much better. You're already more competent than those boys," said Pitch, nodding in approval. "Even if you only use this for games, there is no reason why you can't learn how to do it right."

Lucy beamed brightly at the praise. His voice and expression remained rather calm and controlled, but she still noticed. She was doing good.

They'd chosen a nice spot in the forest. There weren't as many sticks and thorny plants to trip over or get tangled in. But it wasn't so clear that the sunlight would reach them. She'd set Kitty against one of the closer trees to watch. She seemed to like the lesson almost as much as the girl.

"How do you know this? No one ever said the Boogeyman could use a sword. Does that mean you know everything?" she asked.

"I don't know everything. But once you've been alive as long as I have, you learn a few things. And I wasn't always the Boogeyman. I learned to wield a sword a long time ago and, though a little rusty, those are not skills you forget," explained Pitch.

"Oh," she said, blinking. "Who did you used to be then?"

He seemed to grow stiffer at her question. He turned away, tucking his hands behind his back. Lucy wasn't sure what was wrong, but his expression had turned back to one of those weird emotions she couldn't untangle. It wasn't completely sad, but it wasn't happy either.

After a few moments, he said, "That is a story for another day. I think the story about Jack Frost should suffice for now." Then, his voice sounding a little more normal again, he continued, "I also believe that you've practiced enough today. Let's not strain your endurance. You're far younger than I was when I started learning and it is probably time to return to your home."

Lucy frowned, not quite ready to stop. But before she could say a word, the girl heard the crunch of leaves. She turned just in time to see Ben and Kyle galloping towards her corner of the forest.

"Lucy?" asked Ben, sliding to a stop. He blinked in surprise before continuing, "I guess you got across the log after all."

Neither boy was saying anything about him. They weren't even looking at the tall grey-skinned person with golden eyes. Lucy glanced up at the Boogeyman to make sure he was still there.

"They don't believe in me," Pitch said. "And because of that, they can't see me."

"Sorry," said Lucy, picking up Kitty from the ground.

Not realizing who she was talking to, Kyle shrugged and said, "At least you didn't bug us. We had a lot more fun without you following us around and crying."

As Ben gave his friend a warning shove, Lucy saw Pitch's eyes narrow slightly. He slowly stepped around behind the pair. The grin he wore was a little scary and made her shiver.

"Without belief, they can't see me. But sometimes," Pitch continued, "even nonbelievers can hear me. If I appeal to fears they already possess, deep down. As quiet fears whispering at the back of their minds and without realizing the thoughts are not their own, they can hear my words." Leaning down to their level, he said, "Observe."

His eyes seemed a little more vicious as they glowed, Pitch glancing at Ben and Kyle. And his smile showed too many teeth. He might be nice to her, but he was still the Boogeyman and scary.

"You shouldn't have left Lucy alone. Your parents will be very angry if they find out. And they will find out. Parents always find out," he hissed into the boys' ears. "You'll be in so much trouble. And what if Lucy got hurt or lost after you abandoned her like that? It would have been your fault. And everyone will know what you did. They'll know. You can't hide it."

It was amazing. Ben and Kyle weren't acting like they could hear someone speaking. Not really. But with every word, the two boys grew more and more nervous. In fact, her brother almost looked afraid and he was never afraid.

Grinning to himself, Pitch straightened back up and said, "Far too easy. The paranoid people of the Dark Ages were a bigger challenge." He nodded towards Lucy. "I told you that everyone is afraid of something. That includes Ben."

"L-let's go home," said Ben nervously. "Before Mom starts worrying."

The pair started walking again, but slowly and making sure Lucy followed. Her brother kept looking back at her to ensure she kept up. And when Lucy glanced over her shoulder, she saw Pitch trailing behind.

When they came to the log bridging the gully, Lucy's earlier fears began to bubble back up. She didn't like heights. Even thinking about it made her heart pound faster and her hands slippery. The boys rushed across easily while she hesitated.

But, taking a deep breath, Lucy forced herself onto the log. She dropped onto her hands and knees. And just like earlier, she kept her balance by crawling across the log slowly. Lucy was still afraid the entire way, but she could do it. She made it to the other side without falling or panicking.

Smiling at her success, Lucy climbed to her feet and turned around. But there was no one there. She didn't see the tall figure with the golden eyes anymore. He'd vanished. All she could see on the far side was trees and shadows.

He waited until the children made it across the log, the boys afraid of being in trouble while Lucy's terror of heights remained perfectly clear like a beacon. Once they were past that obstacle, he melted back into the darkness. He's spent enough time there and even their fears weren't enough to coax him into remaining longer.

Pitch returned to his lair and discovered he wasn't alone. Three Nightmares stood near the hollow globe of Believers, occasionally pawing the ground. He gave them a nod of approval.

"Very good, Onyx. You managed to find a few more of your brethren."

She snorted and tossed her head. The other two stepped forward, completely docile. They were completely unlike the swirling mass of corrupted Dream Sand that attacked him.

Rubbing a hand along both of their necks to sooth them, Pitch said, "Welcome back, my creations. It is good to see a few more of you. Even after our last encounter. I did put a lot of time and effort into your existences."

A small herd of Nightmares would not be too much to manage. Even if they should turn on him again, he should be fine. He was regaining his strength, slowly and surely. Onyx seemed loyal so far. Hopefully the other two would turn out to be similar.

"…Jet…Obsidian… Yes, these will do nicely for names," he remarked quietly. "Just as I told Onyx, make sure to stay out of sight. We don't want to draw attention. Enjoy the fears the world provides, but don't provoke it and don't cause any harm. And certainly don't touch the Dream Sand. Out of all of the Guardians, the Sandman is the last one we need to notice us."

The dark creatures snorted and tossed their heads. But they would obey. He knew they would be cautious.

Pitch chuckled wryly to himself as he made a realization. The situation was a little ridiculous. For once, the infamous Boogeyman had allies. And they were creations of corrupted Dream Sand that nearly killed him and a terrified child who still wished for his presence. Surely the Man in the Moon was having a laugh by now at his expense.

Once again, I'm sorry about the wait. I wish that I could reassure you that the next chapter will be sooner, but I can. I have a lot of things being juggled at the same time. I do hope that you enjoy everything that I write. Thanks.