"Woah! Please don't kill me!" Jack shouted, holding his hands near his head. To his surprise it was the other person who flinched, you know, the person who was holding a very capable weapon to his throat.

For a moment they both just stood there, Jack with his hands up and the thief staring into his soul like they could unravel every one of his memories that way. Like she could solve him just by staring.

The stranger then slowly lowered their weapon, eyes never leaving Jack. In turn, Jack slowly lowered his hands, holding the stranger's stare with his own, or at least trying to, Jack doesn't know if he succeeded.

"You speak Norse," the stranger said, to Jack's confusion. Norse? He remembered something about Norsemen, listening to certain conversations over his 300 years of, let's be honest, isolation, taught him a few things. They're Norse, he realized.

"You're Norse?" He checked, and the person in front of him lowered their staff to stand at their side. "My name is Valka of the Sanctuary of the King of–

"Are you trying to sound intimidating?" Jack interrupted, "Sorry it's just, note for the future, if you want to sound intimidating, make the titles shorter," the stranger– Valka –just stared at him, blankly.

Okay, well, of course they stared blankly, they have a helmet on that doesn't let Jack pick up on their expressions.

"I might need your help," Valka said, at the same moment Jack decided to apologize with a short, "Sorry," and they both just stared at each other before Valka burst out laughing.

What.

Jack chuckled slightly with them. He didn't even know what was funny, for all he knew they could be laughing at what it would look like to have him killed.

"If I'd known you were just a child, I wouldn't have come on so rough, my apologies," Valka said through her laughter, "I'm seventeen!" Jack protested.

"That's still a child, lad," Valka shot. Jack tried to voice his disbelief when... Valka? Interrupted. "What's your name?" Valka asked, her voice filled with… fondness?

"My name's Jack," he answered, only then realizing how different it felt on his tongue compared to the words he didn't know he was speaking just seconds prior, "nice to meet you," he said. Then the creature behind him let out another whine of pain and both individuals were brought back to the situation at hand.

Valka sighed, "You speak Norse and…"

"English," Jack provided, "English, thank you," Valka thanked Jack with an odd accent on 'English', "I need your help to get back up in the sky. Then I'll head up north and be out of your way," Valka explained.

"So basically what you're saying is, I'm gonna be your translator,"

"As well as my guide, yes."

Not necessarily how Jack thought he'd be spending his afternoon but things happen... right?

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Jack sat in the meadow where he and Valka had met just four days earlier with a rag, some alcohol, and a lot of freaking bandages.

He had to ask Charles for some money, which was hard enough when your only liable excuse is "childlike wonder of being in The New World."

He remembered taking the bullet out, it was disgusting to say the least. It smelled like something he would never subject anyone to the misfortune of smelling, and he got pus all over his hands. The smell hadn't quite left him yet either.

Jack took off the bandages and was glad to see the wound didn't look nearly as bad as it did before. There was no pus, and there wasn't any smell either, though Jack knew it would scar either way.

"How is he?" A voice asked in Norse behind him. He looked over his shoulder to find Valka, unmasked, with a small smile.

"He should be back up in the air by tomorrow afternoon," he told her, Cloudjumper could now stand and run so Jack no longer had to run around stealing or buying food for the guy. It was harder for him to hunt sure, but no different to how it would've been if he and Valka had been here willingly.

Now Jack just stook around because, if he's being honest, he enjoys Valka's company. She's funny and never takes Jack's questions about dragons as weird or annoying, in fact she seemed to really enjoy answering them. She even laughed at some of his jokes and stories of pranks pulled on others.

Of course he only summarizes them and tells the old ones form before technology practically exploded.

Jack noticed that Valka had the mannerisms of a mother hen. For example, when Jack would come to visit Cloudjumper or talk to Valka she'd always ask how his day was.

Or how she just made Jack feel comfortable, like he could tell her anything and she'd listen. Logically, he doubted that was the case.

He finished wrapping the bandages around Cloudjumper's wing, listening to Valka tell him about dragon's mating culture. It's more interesting than he originally thought. Apparently they mate like birds do, dancing.

At one point Jack asked about the weapon Valka was carrying. She said that she had made it about 17 years ago out of wood and shells found on a beach somewhere.

"That weapon is as old as me," he joked, knowing Valka would never get why it was funny.

Jack suddenly couldn't help but notice Valka looked sad. When he asked what was wrong she just brushed it off.

Jack frowned at the memory, he wasn't going to ask questions though, it seemed too personal for that.

"Jack,"

"Yeah?" He said over his shoulder. Cloudjumper was now accepting scratches from him, and he thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

"Do you have any parents?"

The question drew him to a halt, but only momentarily, "no, I'm an orphan," he answered, there was silence after that.

"Where'd you learn to speak Norse?" She asked next and it was Jack's turn to be silent. How did he know Norse? It wasn't like he was trying, he just did. Like breathing. "I used to live further up north and would learn from traders?" He... asked. Cringing commenced. "Erm- yeah."

Oh my God. Shut. Up.

Jack could practically feel the skeptical look Valka was giving him.

"Hey, can I ask you for a favor?" Valka asked again from behind him. Jack had to take a second to marvel at this woman, who just took his obvious lie in stride. This time Jack rose to face her, "Sure what do you need?" He asked.

"Tomorrow, will you tour me around Boston?"

It was an odd request. But Jack couldn't see much harm in it. Cloudjumper could defend himself now and it was clear to him Valka was curious. There was only one thing.

Valka still stood out, the clothes she wore screamed foreigner. He'd have to find her clothes that wouldn't stick out too much. Yet there weren't any, well none that would fit her. Jack doubted she'd be up for wearing a dress. She just didn't seem like that type of person.

"Okay, but you'll have to stick close and we'll have to stop by the dock tomorrow so I can get you some clothes," he explained, "sounds like a plan," Valka agreed, smiling.

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He met Valka again the next morning. She was in the same place as the other day, her dragon– Cloudjumper he learned –had been shot. He had to tell her as much when they first met, and had to explain the ramifications of a firearm. She described it as 'cheating' which, sure, but it's not cheating if everyone else uses one too.

She reminded him that according to where she was from, no one did. They walked down the docks, Jack's plan was to get Valka some more fitting clothes so she wouldn't stand out.

Well, she'd still stand out as a bit odd but not as suspicious. He walked onto the deck of the old ship, Valka trailing not too far behind him. He really hoped no one saw him sneaking someone on board.

Never mind a girl. He'd never live it down from these types of guys.

"Hey Jackson,"

Of. Fucking. Course.

He could feel the anxiety rolling off him. "Y-yeah?" He stuttered. He turned to find none other than Eastwood himself standing there, hands crossed over his chest with a shit-eating grin. God come save me.

"Who's your friend?" He raised an eyebrow, his smile slowly fading as his eyes trailed over the suspicious figure. Jack made a lie on the spot.

"She's a slave, all she needs is extra clothes. Promise I won't let her out of my sight," Jack assured him wincing internally.

Charles just sighed, "you know you don't have to be kind to them. I won't judge you for your opinions, that's not my job but, don't let their master know, otherwise they'll have your hands," Eastwood then pointed over to Valka, "and their back,"

Then he walked away leaving Jack to stand there with the reminder that this era was far from sunny, it felt like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head. Like a wake up call bringing up his discomfort. He forgot about that.

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Valka barely registered the conversation Jack and his friend were having. She was too busy shamelessly admiring, staring, at the ship around her.

Valka thought she recognized this ship. It was barely any different from the others, same style, same size. But something about it just extruded familiarity, and not the good kind.

Yet she couldn't lie, if there was anything Americans knew best, it was how to build a ship. Maybe it wasn't stealthy or anything. Definitely wasn't cheap.

But the way the masts towered over her, the way the sails shifted in the breeze, the way the boat sighed when a wave shifted its weight. It was as if it was alive, a mother ready to carry her children anywhere their hearts desired. The American dragon.

"You coming?"

Her head snapped in Jack's direction, she couldn't help but notice there was a more, tired maybe, look to him. Like he'd grown years older in just a few minutes. Valka suddenly found herself wishing she'd known more of Jack's language.

"Yes," she confirmed, and Jack led her through the ship to below the deck. There were multiple rooms. Mainly two parts, there was a large door at the end of the hall. Jack didn't go far, just stopped at a crate to open it and grab out some clothes that looked like they'd fit her.

She noticed they were men's clothes and not the dresses the women wore. Thank Odin.

Then a growl came from the other room and both her and Jack flinched. Valka felt cold.

This was the ship.

The one that belonged to the very hunters who'd shot down her dragon.

And for the second time that week, Jack would be met with a staff pressed firmly to his throat.

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"Tell me you had nothing to do with this!" She shouted. Jack had no idea what was going on. "With what?!" He questioned, honestly this was probably the most confused he's been in a long time, second only to the time he actually had the incentive to question why he existed in the first place.

The Viking just shoved him towards the growling door, pressing the end of her staff to his back. He obliged. "Come on, I thought we were getting along well enough," Jack tried, Valka said nothing and just shoved him toward the door.

The growling got louder the closer they got. They were close enough for Jack to study every detail and commit them to memory.

Then someone came to his rescue.

There were quick and heavy footsteps before Valka was quite literally thrown off of him.

Jack whirled to find Charles brandishing his sword to fight Valka off. Valka responded by countering with her staff and for a moment, Jack was lost in her movements. It was like a dance, she spun around like a whirlwind and Jack found himself briefly hoping, wondering if he looked like that when he fought. Probably not.

Then a short snarl from whatever creature was behind that door brought him back. He wasn't allowed down here for a reason, it only hit him now, that reason might not be one he was necessarily comfortable with.

Jack didn't need to sneak too much, the fight distracting both opponents too much for them to notice Jack slipping through the door.

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Forget Cloudjumper.

He was sweet and all, but he was nothing compared to this. Their scales were as white as snow, glittered like snow too. Their eyes were so blue it couldn't be a real color. They were beautiful.

Behind a large set of bars in a fairly large cell sat a dragon. One that seemed to be bleeding from multiple places with wounds that had gone untreated. They were probably infected.

At first they just growled at him, and snarled like he was the one who'd trapped them in here.

"We found you in the nest of a dragon,"

Maybe he was?

But he didn't want to hurt them. For a number of reasons…

He approached slowly, looking around the room and seeing no one. So, tentatively he crouched down in front of them and held out a hand like anyone would in front of a scared animal. They roared and Jack had to fight the urge to cover his ears. Instead he winced.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm not like them," he told the Dragon, "I won't to hurt you," he said, in a voice he remembered all too well. A voice he reserved for his sister.

Look where that got you.

Jack fought to refrain from shaking his head to clear his thoughts, no sudden moves, he reminded himself.

For a second, Jack thought he saw those pupils widen a fraction. Just a fraction, so small Jack could've imagined it.

Then the moment was over.

Charles came slamming through the door and Jack immediately stood to face him. He looked rough, and angry, he was heaving like he ran a marathon. But it wasn't the out of breath heaving, no, it was more frantic, quick like insanity.

That's when Jack noticed what he was holding...

"Charles what the fuck?"

"Jackson step away from that cell!" He warned, pressing the dagger further to the baby's neck to emphasize his point.

"Charles-that's just a baby–

"It's a dragon Jack!" He shouted, whatever Valka had done probably scared the shit out of him. Where was she anyway? What did he do?

"Charles… calm down…" Jack said, holding his hands up much like he did for the Dragon behind him. Who was roaring and clawing and struggling for the hatchling to the point where, if I'd been any other time and Jack any other person, he would've been impressed.

That's her child… Sometimes Jack's too smart for his own good. Not book smart, God knows, but smart in his own way. A smart-aleck. Though most would call him a smart-ass. This was one of those times. He was sure he'd gone pale.

"I told you not to come down here for a reason," Charles said, seeming a little calmer now. Jack knew, however, that might not be the case. He kept his hands up.

"I know but no matter what anybody did, you might lock them up, kill them, but threaten their child?"

"These cells weren't made for dragons! We had to keep her here one way or another."

"Well it's not like the baby did anything now did it?"

"Don't get smart with me!" Charles growled, "why do you care! The dragon behind you hurt you so bad you could barely keep awake!"

That's wrong.

Oh, did Jack know it. He thought that maybe somewhere deep, Charles knew it too. But in the end none of it mattered.

"A slave," he scoffed, "you lied to me," Charles told him in a low voice of warning. "I didn't know you had a dragon down here okay? Valka just wanted to get home," Jack tried to reason, he really did, but something in Charles just seemed to die even more.

Suddnely Valka rushed in, slamming the door open, and startling Charles. Charles who had the knife to the hatchling's throat. If Jack were to look back on it now, he probably wouldn't be able to decide whether things went too slowly for him or too fast.

In the end. Jack was too slow, and Charles was too fast.

In the end, the baby was dead, throat open on the ground like a second mouth. The mother cried out in a roar so desperate, and so full of grief Jack had flashbacks. He wanted to vomit again.

Valka, when she realized what happened seemed to tense in rage and regret for about a solid five seconds before pretty much lunging at Charles. Jack knew he couldn't help, he'd just get in the way. He was useless.

Unless…

Jack turned to the cell with a repeated, "Please don't kill me," under his breath as he inspected the cage holding the dragon.

The lock wasn't complicated, it was like any other lock on any other cell or doorway. All Jack had to do was pick it. But with what? He didn't have much time, Charles had clearly been a swordsman for a long time. However, anyone could tell at a glance that Valka was skilled, so why couldn't she get the upper hand?

The crash… Jack remembered, When she crash landed here she must have a concussion, he needed to be fast. Would it have healed in that time? Could they last four days? With enough brain damage probably and she did ride a dragon so...

Jack looked around for anything, anything, that he could use, but small metal like things didn't just come laying around for him to find.

There was stuff all over in the other room, if he could just sneak past…

Jack slowly made his way towards the two. He'd have to be faster than this, Valka was quite literally pinned underneath Eastwood, him using Valka's own staff to choke her.

Creak...

Shit, Eastwood's head snapped towards him, but it wasn't Eastwood, couldn't be. Jack couldn't believe, wouldn't believe this was the same man who'd taken him in.

His eyes were wild with animalistic rage, he was heaving even worse now. Jack felt his legs tense so bad they might have gotten stuck like that if it weren't for the feral instinct to run.

So he ran.

Into the other room, shut the door behind him. He grabbed the first thing he saw. A broom. And barricaded the door using it just in time for what could only be described as literal terror to come knocking.

Jack almost fell over and let out the loudest yelp he thinks he's ever heard come out of someone and for a second he just stood there like a deer in headlights breathing hard and on the verge of tears. Even Pitch the spirit of fear was never like this...

Right the cell. He shook his head to rid the fear curling in his veins and started scrambling around for something akin to a lockpick.

"Come on! There has to be something," he muttered, opening different crates and such, that I'd until he heard footsteps racing down to the lower deck.

"Jack, what are you doing down here? You know you can't be down here, and also, what is with all the noise?" Yhe man asked, John, if Jack remembered correctly, like all the other John's that lived in this century.

In the midst of panicking he asked, "do you have a lockpick?" Almost as if on auto pilot, John dug in his pocket and threw him one. "What do you need that–

But Jack was already on the move. He was in such a hurry he didn't even realize the desperate banging had stopped. He noticed now, that was for sure.

No time to spare Jack opened the door to find Valka and Charles fighting again, except Valka looked like she was going to pass out, her wounds weren't fatal but her arm was clearly dislocated and she had multiple lacerations in multiple places that could not be comfortable.

But it was Charles he was worried about. He, on the other hand, looked dead, well, undead, he seemed to be doing pretty well considering he was choking Valka with one hand. But he looked like he was starving now, and he was pale. Like some... demented version on puberty...

Jack ran over to the cell and, cool trick you learn over 300 years of breaking into North's office, he had all the pins in the right place just as Eastwood turned on him and drove his sword right through Jack's shoulder.

He cried out in pain as the mother behind him cried too, probably in anger if nothing else.

He could hear Eastwood chuckling in his ear. It was almost spastic like it was painful and involuntary. It must have been because Charles could barely choke out words through his laughter.

"You– y-you– let your guard– d-own,"

Jack's hair on the back of his neck stood straight, his voice sounded familiar, it was Pitch. He just knew it. It had to be, Jack could see it in his eyes.

His voice was hoarse now, and Jack didn't know what to think.

It was always your fault.

"God this is pathetic… I even seem to mess things up in the afterlife too."

Then came the other voice. The chuckling ceased, so suddenly it could've given Jack whiplash. It's voice was so… clear.

"And you'll do it again."

Jack grabbed something next to him, the lockpick. He grabbed it, and twisted it.

Immediately the sword was painfully yanked from his shoulder, he cried out again as he fell to the floor.

It was the lockpick. He'd freed the dragon. He could hear Eastwood's screams as the mother took her revenge. He could see it too.

He held his shoulder as he watched the white dragon paint her teeth, her claws, and her scales with red like a canvas. And Jack understood, she was willing to do whatever it takes to protect her kin. Avenge them too.

At that moment, they met each other's gaze. No longer did they see each other. But saw themselves reflecting back. Both her and Jack were one. Both her and Jack understood.

And Jack wasn't scared anymore.

This was the start of something big.