This isn't my best but I wanted to write something.

If yall want to see new ideas send them my way. I hope to post more often but make no promises.

Pitch Black sat with his back against the globe, feeling the lights burn into his back as a Nightmare snoozed before him. Absentmindedly, he tapped his fingers along the bridge of its nose in the rhythm of a long-forgotten melody. The sand creature didn't mind in the slightest. It had found its home with the Nightmare King, and despite the times he yelled at it to go away, it never did.

He felt the disgust burn like the lights against his back, directed at the Guardians and all they stood for, and disgust for the Man in the Moon for cursing him to this life. Why did he have to be the Boogeyman? Why did he have to suffer in the dark with his nightmares and the nightmares of many?

He bit his lip to keep from yelling into the echoing darkness around him. A cool breeze flew in, not unlike the times in winter when he could hear the howling outside of the tunnel where the wooden bed used to sit.

Unlike other times, this wind brought forth peppermint and a weight beside him.

"Frost… What do I owe the pleasure?"

Pitch continued to pet the snout of the now-awake Nightmare. Jack sat in silence next to him for a while before finally speaking.

"I wanted to check in on you."

The winter spirit shrugged before reaching out to scratch behind the mare's ear. This earned him a small huff as she settled back down for her nap.

"Well, you've seen me at my lowest. Go laugh it up with the other Guardians."

Pitch spat as he stood, glaring down at the younger spirit with pure hatred. Jack looked up at him, wearing the same empty expression as when Pitch confronted him in Antarctica.

"Nah. I may be the Guardian of Joy, but I don't derive joy from others' suffering. Standards, Pitch, standards."

Jack turned away from him, settling in.

"You forget that I was like you before this… I know what it's like. The other Guardians don't understand that without you, they would be nothing. You cannot have hope without having fear. There would be nothing to hope for…"

Pitch opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish trying to wrap his mind around Jack's words. He finally let out a huff of a laugh before sitting next to the younger spirit.

"You're right…"

Jack nudged Pitch, a grin on his face.

"You have believers… you just haven't found them yet."

With that, Jack leapt up, and with the peppermint wind, he was gone. Leaving Pitch in the dark once again, alone but not without hope that he would be okay once again.