"And then we went through the portal and ended up back here," Sam finished.

"That sounds awful," Betsy said.

Psyche turned to Jack. "Are you okay now?"

Jack glanced at her and nodded once then turned back to stare at the fire. He hadn't spoken at all since eating, and they could all tell he was not okay by any stretch of the imagination. Barrel was sitting quietly off to the side beside Lock and Shock. He did not join in their playful shoving and pinching but sat still and thoughtful, his concerned eyes on Jack. Sally sat beside the Pumpkin King and squeezed his hand.

"Jack? Don't lie."

He grunted but said nothing.

"Well, I have several questions," Squanto said. "The first one is: Who is this Bodach? And why does he want to hurt you, Jack?"

Not a word came from the bone man. He traced his fingers around the rim of his mug of cocoa, his expression pinching a bit as he pressed his thin lips together.

"Jack?" Sandy asked. "We need you to talk to us. We need answers. Please."

Nothing.

"Please Jack. Who is he?" Pocahontas asked.

Silence.

"We ain't got much of a choice now, Jack," Oogie said grimly. "We gotta tell 'em. They need to know who he is."

A bitter expression crossed Jack's face, and he stood up abruptly and set aside his cocoa. He prowled over to the liquor cabinet and poured a shot of brandy. Without hesitation, he tossed back the alcohol, ignoring the burn as he poured another. He downed that one, too, then filled the shot glass a third time. The Holiday leaders were stunned. Never before had Jack had so many drinks in front of them, and when he picked up the brandy bottle a fourth time, Sandy jumped up and hurried over to stop him.

"That's enough, Jack!"

Jack looked at him then threw his head back and laughed bitterly. It reminded them of rusty nails.

"No, Sandy. It's not enough. It's not nearly enough." He set the bottle down with a thump after filling the shot glass again and turned to face them. "If any of you knew what my brother is capable of, you'd all get drunk, too."

He toasted them then slammed it back. The room was dead silent as they took in his words. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Jack played with the glass and began to pace, prowling like an animal up and down the length of the room.

"You want to know who he is? Fine. Here's the truth. Bodach is my brother. We were both found as babes out in the Scottish forest near a shrine. He and I were raised by a couple who took us in. There were odd things about us that made people leery, hints of something otherworldly, so we had nobody but each other. Despite their unwillingness to associate with me, I wanted to be accepted by the village. Bodach wanted that, too, until we were thirteen. He was beaten and wounded by the villagers, and he wanted me to help him kill them. But I refused, and so he despised me, too."

His expression was wild, like a caged animal, and they sensed a strange power behind him. It was distinctly Jack, but it suddenly seemed much sharper, more deadly, and incredibly dangerous.

"He's sadistic. He's despicable. He's a monster," Jack snarled. "He enjoys causing pain, creating mayhem. And his favorite target is me. I was human once, you know. You've seen my human form, but once upon a time, that was all I knew. I was human… mostly. But I didn't like the other part of me, and I fought it. Oh, how I fought it! Tooth and nail, I tried to tear myself away from disgusting thoughts, twisted desires, and dark power that tried to warp my humanity. And my dearest brother despised that I did that because he gave his soul to have all of that."

Jack snarled, fire erupting in his eyeholes as a shadow passed over his face. Those watching were suddenly aware that they were in an enclosed room with the Pumpkin King, and Squanto stood up abruptly, his eyes dashing to the door as he tensed to run. Jack looked at him, and a bitter laugh fell from his lips.

"You always were the most sensitive toward our magic. What do you think, Squanto? What do you think of me now?"

Squanto didn't move, his eyes terrified though his face was stoic. "I don't know," he finally answered, and his voice shook.

"My brother didn't know what to think either when I started fighting my instincts," Jack crooned, his fingers tightening on the shot glass. The fire in his eyeholes flared. "And he hated me for it. And he tortured me. For the rest of my human life, he tortured me, using my human frailty and weaknesses to make me suffer. He did everything you can think of to me, knowing I wouldn't die because he was careful to stop just short of critical damage. He was trying to break me, to shape me into the destroyer he wanted me to be. In a way, he got what he wanted. I'm a beast, a freak, a monster, just like he wanted!"

"That's enough, Jack!" Oogie cut in. "I've told you thousands of times that you ain't a monster! Stop that!"

Jack threw his head back and gave a hellish shriek of maniacal laughter then reeled back and flung the empty shot glass into the fireplace. As it shattered, the fire roared, and flames exploded into the room with a deafening bang! Everybody in the room besides Jack and Oogie screamed in terror and dove behind the furniture, quaking as Jack's emotions caused an uncontrolled ripple of power to erupt from him.

The silence that followed was just as scary, and it took a minute before everybody rose up, glancing around nervously. Jack no longer looked frightening. He just looked very tired as he glared into the embers of the fire. He seemed so vulnerable in that moment, and Oogie walked over and wrapped an arm around him, shaking him gently.

"'S'okay, Jackie," he soothed. "But you ain't a monster, you hear?"

Jack gestured wordlessly at the terrified people hiding behind the couches and chairs. Oogie shook his head.

"That don't mean nothin', Jack. You're upset, and you've got every right to be. You didn't hurt 'em, did you?"

"No," Jack said in a small voice.

"And you didn't want to, right?"

"No. I didn't want to hurt them."

"And that proves it. You ain't your brother, Jackie. And you never will be. There's good in you. There's none in him. Not anymore."

Jack said nothing for a few moments then sank down onto the floor, placing his head in his hands as a soft groan left him. "I don't want to do this again," he said brokenly.

Oogie walked over and plopped down beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. "I know that, Jackie. But it'll be different this time. Look around. Between me and you and the rest of the leaders, what more could we ask for. We've got help this time."

"No, Crawly! I don't want to pull any of them into this. It's my personal hell, and they don't deserve to suffer because of him."

Sandy spoke up, stepping out from behind the sofa. "Nonsense, Jack. You've saved all of our Holidays. So we will help you to save yours. It's as simple as that."

Jack huffed. "It's not simple at all. And we are a a severe disadvantage."

"In what way?" Patrick asked, tilting his hat up.

"We don't have the book, and we don't have the ingredients we need to reseal the Realm so he'll be banished."

"What ingredients?" Sandy asked. "I'm sure with a bit of magic and a few nights of searching, we could easily get all we need."

"Ah, actually no," Oogie said, shifting. "Cuz the ingredients we need have to be pulled from the Halloween Realm. And no amount of magic will reproduce them. And we can't get them from the Halloween Realm because of the citizens he's weaponized."

"Oh," Sandy said, wilting.

"That is a problem," Eros said. "But what can we do about it?"

Patrick tugged at his beard then waved his hand, and a lucky clover appeared. Before he could grab it, it fell to the floor, and Barrel automatically picked it up and handed it back. Patrick looked curiously at him but took it.

"Thanks, laddie." He turned to Jack. "What if we could get the ingredients."

"There's still the matter of the book," Jack said. He looked miserable. "Without that, we can't do anything. I don't even know what ingredients we need. I looked for it in Oogie's Lair, but it wasn't there. There's no chance of getting to my copy, and Riker…" Pain lanced across his features, and Barrel shifted guiltily.

"Maybe we could try and get a copy," Pocahontas said. "We could lure them away and break in."

"He's probably got my copy and is guardin' it. Bastard," Oogie said blandly.

"And he'll be guarding my copy, too. And Riker might have handed his over."

"So what do we do?" Sandy asked.

Squanto stood up slowly. "I believe," he said calmly. "That we need a good night's sleep to think things over. We should put this out of our minds until we have rested, then we can come up with a plan. Is this acceptable?"

Jack sighed. "I don't see how rest will help us solve this problem, but that's a good idea. After what's happened, I feel so tired that I want to fall asleep for a hundred years."

"Then it is agreed," Squanto said. "Go and rest, Jack."

Jack stood up, his long, lanky form unfolding to its great height. Even so, he looked deflated and so much smaller than usual. Oogie stood up and wrapped an arm around Jack.

"Let's get you to bed, Jackie."

Jack allowed Oogie to lead him out of the house to his cottage, and the others all stood there anxiously. As soon as the door closed, they began to talk about Jack and wondered how they could help him. Lock, Shock, and Barrel were forgotten as the grownups fretted, and Barrel was thinking. Jack said he needed a book, and he wondered if it was the one he had hidden in the grate. If so, there was a way that Barrel could start to make up for causing so much anger and pain for Jack.

Barrel leaned over to Lock and Shock. "We're sneaking out tonight," he whispered, determination in his eyes.

Lock and Shock glanced at each other. Barrel rarely started their adventures, but when he did, they turned into the wildest, spookiest, funnest times in their afterlives. They met each other's eyes then grinned.

"Agreed," Lock said.

"What time?" Shock hissed.

While the grownups were planning on what to do with Jack and the information they'd learned that day, the children also began to plan. They would do things their own way, no skirting around the issue. And hopefully, there would be time for a little mischief along the way.