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“Stop moving.”
“It’s entirely too bright in here. Can’t we go somewhere el—.”
“No, now stay still.”
“I don’t like this. Not with them watching—.”
“You wear a V-neck robe and no shirt. There’s not much left to the imagination.”
“They’re staring—.”
“Guys! Walk away,” Jack finally ordered the Guardians. North and Sandy nodded and walked away without question. Tooth lingered momentarily, concerned that Jack wasn’t quite as adept at bandaging wounds, but eventually left. Bunny remained, glaring down at the two of them with folded arms. He was the only one who hadn’t quite accepted their explanation for why Jack was part Fearling, but Jack had expected that. At this point, he expected never to hear Bunny say a semi-decent word to him again let alone a kind one.
Pitch and Bunny glared defiantly at one another for longer than was necessary. The tension was thick enough that Jack could freeze a chunk of it easily. Tooth turned back, realizing Bunny had remained. “You don’t have to watch them. They’re not going to do anything,” she whispered to him.
“Yeah. Right,” he grumbled, following her reluctantly. He maintained eye contact for a little while longer before returning to his work. Bunny’s former remarks still stung, but at least he’d saved them. Had he not shown up at the last minute, Manny only knew where they’d be.
Jack brushed aside his thoughts, and instead focused on removing one of Pitch’s sleeves and inspecting his wounds. Pitch still refused to completely remove his robe, so Jack figured that switching sides would be a decent compromise. Because of Pitch’s skin tone, bruises were almost impossible to locate. Save for the really dark ones, that is. That didn’t mean they weren’t there, though. They were mostly in the abdominal region and over the ribs. A set of scratches stretched over his pectoral. That was just on the right side of his body, though.
Jack went to prepare the gauze Tooth had given him when Pitch asked, “Can’t you just use your ice and let it alone?”
“It will heal a lot faster if you let me take care of it. Properly.” Pitch sighed dramatically at that, rolling his eyes. “Don’t complain. It’s not as humiliating as you think it is.”
Jack could see that Pitch wanted to make some form of remark along the lines of ‘how would you know,’ but thought better of it. Because Jack would know. He knew very well the humiliation that came with allowing others to care for him when he was too weak to do it himself. He was grateful that Pitch wasn’t in the state Jack had been in after his attack. From what he could tell, Pitch had handled that situation miraculously. Jack doubted he could’ve done the same for Pitch. He would’ve been nothing but a simpering mess.
Jack had to admit that he was no good at dressing wounds. He felt Pitch’s hand on his cheek as he fought with the bandaging on the Boogeyman’s chest. He smiled, pressing his face further into the palm as he smoothed out his pitiful handiwork. Then he used his ice to soothe the bruises. Pitch let out a relieved sigh once Jack was done with that side, pulling on his sleeve before reluctantly removing the other.
There was only one significant wound on Pitch’s left side, but it was glaring. Jack had to refrain from gasping at the deep gashes, which were still seeping blood. He wondered how Pitch could move at all with that wound, how he’d managed to hide it so well.
Even though he’d managed to control his breathing, he hadn’t been able to control his facial expression. The only reason he knew this was because Pitch was staring at him. He thought he’d learned all of the faces of Pitch Black rather well, but that facial expression he’d never seen before. It wasn’t the usual saddened look he’d seen on rare occasion when he thought Jack wasn’t looking. It was definitely a look of upset, though.
With shaky hands, Jack tried to bandage that wound as well. It took longer, and it took more resolve. The only way he found himself able to accomplish what he’d set out to do was to promise himself that he would get revenge on the creatures who’d done this to Pitch. He hadn’t thought of himself as a vengeful person before. In actuality, he really wasn’t. But Rin was.
And Rin was capable of causing pain where Jack wasn’t.
“Do I even want to know what Rin did to free us?” Jack asked as he finished up the bandaging.
“Most likely not. Just know that he was very efficient in his actions.”
Jack nodded, figuring as much. “He told me you could still control him even while he’s in my body. Is that true?”
Pitch’s face went blank as he thought about his answer. Apparently, he decided on honesty. “It is true.”
“Any particular reason for why you never took advantage of that?”
Pitch narrowed his eyes. “That is an invasion of privacy. I would never—,” Pitch was cut off by Jack’s snickering. Jack went to cover his mouth, but that didn’t stop it. He only laughed louder when Pitch asked indignantly, “What is so entertaining about that notion?”
“It’s just,” Jack fought for breath, “your idea,” another outburst, “of privacy is slightly warped.”
“I beg your pardon!” Jack tried suppressing his laughter, but Pitch looked so offended that the winter spirit found it hilarious.
“Pitch, our relationship consists of stalking, kidnapping, and hiding each other’s belongings, and you think that’s an invasion of privacy?”
“It is! You wouldn’t like it if I did it!” Jack stopped laughing, but a smile remained on his lips as he stared at the Nightmare King’s blistered face. Pitch’s expression changed to one of quiet stubbornness when he realized what Jack was thinking. “No.”
“Challenge has been accepted,” Jack stated.
Pitch slipped his robe back on. “You think you dislike being restrained? This won’t help.”
“I think I handled being restrained pretty well the last time.”
“Jack, once you realize that you’re not completely in control of your body, paranoia—.”
“I’m already paranoid because of Rin. I think I can handle you.” Then something occurred to Jack. “Speaking of, how come you never used it on Rin?”
“Again, it’s an invasion of your privacy. Now drop the subject.”
“Not until you show me.” The two fell into a staring contest, which also happened to be a contest of wills. Unfortunately, both were very strong-willed and Jack knew it.
But Jack apparently had better endurance, for soon Pitch gave in. “Fine.” The first thing Jack felt was a pull. It came from within him, a gentle pressure that was both intense and calm. Jack hadn’t known that sort of combination was even possible. The gentleness of the pull was almost . . . relaxing. At the same time, the intensity seemed like a looming threat. It was like his veins would start constricting themselves if he even considered disobedience. Fortunately, he didn’t think to. He was hardly aware of his actions, moving as if in a trance and yet completely awake. He was present, but something other than his own brain was orchestrating his actions. The sensation was odd, to say the least, but not nearly as unpleasant as Pitch made it sound. He supposed that was because he was going along with it willingly. He found himself pulled down onto his back, hands above his head and knees apart. Only then did the force within him lessen. He felt it still, lingering, but it wasn’t quite as deep. He tested his ability to move with an arm. Sure enough, the pressure inside of him increased. It was less like being restrained and more like his arm was suddenly leaden and deadweight. To his surprise, he did not panic. He did not start shaking. He was simply . . . there. There and unable to move out of this incredibly vulnerable position. The only movements allowed him were blinking and shifting his gaze. He dared glance at Pitch, whose facial expression displayed both concentration and amusement at what he had made Jack do.
“A relationship built on kidnapping, stalking, and hiding belongings. I recall you enjoying those things in your own way.” Pitch ran a hand up the inside Jack’s thigh. “But this, by far, is one of the more pleasant aspects of this relationship. Don’t you think so?”
Is it just me, or is this turning me on? Jack thought to himself. He immediately decided the answer was yes. His body apparently agreed with him as Pitch’s hand skipped over his groin (sadly) and instead slid under the hem of his hoody and teased his sensitive stomach. Jack’s cheeks flushed red once he remembered where they were and what had just happened to them. He wanted to speak, but just as with his arm his lips became too heavy to move. He should’ve found it frustrating, but he didn’t.
Suddenly, the force was gone and his body fell back under his control. He let out a shaky breath, flexing his fingers before sitting up again. He glanced down at the outline of his arousal, then turned to Pitch. “I hate you.”
“I told you that you wouldn’t—.”
Before Pitch could finish his sentence, Jack grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him so that the Guardian was whispering in his ear, “Oh no. When we’re alone, you take advantage of that ability.”
Pitch’s devious chuckle reverberated through both of them.
When Pitch felt ready to face the Guardians again, they gathered together to discuss the emergence of this new enemy.
“Do we actually know what these things are?” Jack asked.
“Who is end bringer?” North added.
“And how do we take care of them?” the twit remarked.
Pitch reluctantly exchanged a glance with the rabbit, the only individual in the room Pitch knew to be older than him. Sanderson might have been, but he’d spent hundreds of years sleeping on an island. He likely wouldn’t know much about the end bringer. The exchange was short-lived, and a hint of hostility still resonant. Bunny spoke first, “The end bringer has many names and appears in many cultures, but he prefers to go by Pillan. He’s also been called Typhon and Nidhogg.”
“Hang on,” Jack said, holding up a hand. “You’re saying . . . dragon. The end bringer is a dragon.”
“Not just any dragon, mate. The dragon.” The rabbit’s remark held a snide note to it, and that succeeded in making Pitch want to strangle him for directing it at Jack. “I’m assuming his followers are—.”
“The plague spirits. Also referred to as Huecuvus and the Nosoi,” Pitch interrupted. This was his area of expertise. “They are a prelude to the havoc Pillan will wreak. They’re fear elementals, and can take many forms. Disease. Decay. Horrid weather. Any natural phenomenon one might fear.”
“So the weather anomalies mentioned in the meeting could be related?” the twit interjected.
“Not just could be. They most likely are. If the end bringer is awake, he’s breaking his bonds,” Pitch said.
“What do you mean, bonds?” North asked, one hand on his hip and the other on his bearded chin.
“He was imprisoned in the earth long before the Great War. Long before this guy,” the rabbit gestured rudely at Pitch, “woke up.”
“Who imprisoned him?” the twit asked.
The rabbit shrugged. “Don’t know.”
Pitch knew. He wasn’t going to say so, but he knew. He knew who the warden of Pillan’s prison was, their relationship to Pillan, and where he could find them. He also knew that the individual in question didn’t want to be found.
“I think we shall consult Man in Moon,” North said.
“I’ll go with you. I need to stop by the palace and make sure everything is running smoothly anyway.” The twit rested a hand on one of her swords. “It may be a while before we can get back to work.”
“I’ll get ahead in my schedule, in the event we’re gone for long,” the rabbit added.
“Need help?” Jack asked.
“Not from you.”
That comment brought Pitch’s irritation to a head. “Don’t take that tone with him,” Pitch snapped, causing the rabbit to turn and glare at him.
“Why are you still here anyway, Boogeyman?” the rabbit retorted, stepping closer.
Pitch took a step forward, accepting the challenge. “Like it or not, this is my business too. You’re not the ones who got attacked in their own home—.”
“And they had to rescue you. Why would we want you along—?”
“Because I’m an expert on fear, and the lot of you will be facing an army of—.”
“Admit it! You’re only here because you’re afraid for Jack—.”
By now, they were toe to toe. “Leave him out of this, rabbit!”
“I’ve got news for you, Pitch—.”
“I don’t care for your news—.”
“The most dangerous thing Jack has to deal with in our company—.”
“Hey,” Jack attempted to interrupt.
“Is you,” the rabbit finished.
“Stop it!” Jack shouted, shoving the two apart. Though they were technically separated now, Pitch continued to glare at the rabbit. However, the rabbit’s attention was now directed at Jack.
“And you’re too dumb to realize it,” he growled at the youngest Guardian.
“Enough!” Pitch growled. He was two seconds away from launching himself at the rabbit, despite his wounds and despite Jack’s wishes. Before he could, he felt something hit him upside the head and he fell into a deep sleep.
Sandy glared at the lot of them, threatening to throw another ball of dreamsand if anyone so much as dared open their mouths. North, Jack, and Tooth stared at the dosing Bunny and Pitch, then back at Sandy. Sandy disintegrated the ball, knowing they weren’t going to challenge him, and wiped his hands. He created a few symbols above his head, asking if he was the only adult in the room.
“Unfortunately, I think you are,” Jack answered. The boy rubbed his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose. Sandy felt for him. He knew the boy felt like he just couldn’t get anything right.
Sandy turned to North and Tooth, signaling to them that they should get on with their trip to check the Tooth Palace and speak with Manny. He reassured them that he would stay and mediate the others.
“Thanks, Sandy,” North and Tooth said in unison before leaving the Warren.
Sandy turned back to Jack, moving to stand by the boy. Jack looked sullenly at him when he realized Sandy’s presence. He tried patting Jack’s hand reassuringly, but that didn’t seem to help. Jack just sighed, closing his eyes.
“I guess we should put them on opposite ends of the Warren. That way, when they wake up, it’ll take longer for them to find one another.” Sandy nodded, pointing to Bunny and signing that he would handle him. “I got Pitch. It’ll be hard finding a dark corner to stuff him in, that’s for sure.”