Laughter rang out in the woods.

Just a few ways into the forest was a small clearing. There, children ran and jumped and played in the soft white snow. Amongst the little running kids was a white-haired teenage boy carefully packing snow into a ball as he ran around and enjoyed the snow day with them.

It had been about two hundred years since that night when he had first seen the monster; in those years he had more and more encounters as the world slowly changed into the modern one. Some years were worse than the others.

Sometimes he was too late, the screams having petered out as he rode the fastest of the winds to them. He was left with a scene that broke his heart each time he reached it. The days after those, he would fly to Antarctica and let loose the despair and rage he felt.

Sometimes he got there just in time. Only seconds left to strike the human with winter and save the children. Blood spattering on the frightened children.

Sometimes he can sense them a mile away, a being of malicious intent. Determined to hurt the children he cherished.

It made his blood run cold and rage course through his veins.

But if it was any indication that Jack Frost was a lively, joyful spirit, it was the mischievous grin on his face as he played with kids despite not being able to see nor hear him.

"Woah there, little Annie," the frost spirit exclaimed as he dodged a flying snowball passing by him, laughing as he swerved.

Perhaps you can say that his laughter was the happiest of them all.

Jack stilled just as he was about to throw another snowball. He had developed a sort of sixth sense after the next two hundred years of encountering those monsters of men all over the world. The frost spirit grinned and blew into the snowball, something quite the opposite of his usual fun and joy. Instead, with a breath he sent into the packed snow a promise of the cold embrace of winter.

Jack looked around, not knowing what exactly he was looking for but knowing he would once he saw it. A smile which didn't quite reach his eyes graced his pale face as he spotted a man hidden behind the trees at the edge of the clearing. The man was watching the group of kids he had been playing with, a smile on his face which said he didn't have any good intentions at all. A seething rage in him grew as he took in the way the man kept his eyes on the youngest of the group; a blonde boy with a delicate sort of body and a smile that lit up the world.

Cocking his hand back, he released the snowball and sent it flying through the air. He never missed.

The man stumbled back in shock as the snow broke free as it hit the man in the head. Warily, he looked around and started shivering violently, hands turning blue beneath winter gloves as the cold seeped into him. Alarmed, the man turned and started heading back to his home but it was too late.

Jack knew that the man would die of hypothermia later that night.

Pitch Black watched in the shadows as the young winter spirit threw the snowball which he knew was filled with winter's death.

Delight curled through him as the snowball made impact. The blaze of fear from the man, a fear of being caught, briefly filling him with power. If only the man knew what exactly had him wasn't just snow, that fear would be tripled.

He had known about the young spirit's dark streak ever since he had been pulled to a similar scene, drawn by a child's fear. That day the Nightmare King had his first glimpse of the boy's dark side. Jack Frost had arrived in a flurry of wind and snow, a small blizzard of his raging fury as the spirit reached the scene and took one look at the abusive mother beating her child. Pitch had watched from the shadows then as well, gorged on the fear of the child, the mother and the spirit as well. Jack's fear had been delicious and savory, a fear the winter boy quickly put an end to by piercing an icicle through the heart of a killer.

He smiled the sort of smile that would send most running. When he first heard of the newborn spirit he didn't hear anything of worth, didn't see any use of such a young and fickle spirit of winter. Yes, he knew he was as alone and unbelieved in as Pitch was but that gave him all the more reason to not give the boy any attention. In the Nightmare King's mind every other spirit should suffer as he had.

Yet, this dark side of the boy showed him, it was something else. He had always known that winter had a side of it filled with cold and death. Everything did. Seeing it personified in Jack Frost, well, another shivering smile graced his face, it was one of the few thing he always delighted in seeing.

Pitch ran a hand in an almost loving manner over the mane of one of the very first Nightmares. Obsidian black sand, shifting under his hand. He was brewing up trouble and he knew the winter boy would be an important player on the chess board. The only question would be on which side would all that snow and ice be?

It was time for him to go, perhaps play on the fears of the man from earlier, and give him a bit of a fright. The man may be a full grown adult but that did not mean he couldn't be scared. After all dying was a rather terrifying experience.

With a glance at the playing spirit, he let the shadows spread out once, a quick wave towards the group, before sinking into it. Pitch Black disappeared in the shadows with a thought in his head.

Jack Frost would be his.

Jack shivered.

He could have sworn for a second that the shadows had swarmed over the white landscape of snow. The day had darkened and he felt his fear rise before another second passed and it was gone. He shook it off, thinking it was the after high of keeping the children safe.

Speaking of children…

"Here you go Chris. How about some ammo?" He said as he swept up the snow all around into piles of balls for the blonde little boy.

"You've got no idea what I just saved you from have you? And thank MiM for that, I'd never let you know even if I could," Jack spoke as he flew around the boy, careful not to touch him.

The snowball fight was at full on war now. Forts littered the clearing, some children having made teams and huddled behind them. Rather quickly, the piles of snow he had brought with him were used as both offense and defense.

Looking around the group of children, he beamed. "All right more snow then!"

And with that he swept the winds up with him, churning them around. The clouds grew thick and heavy and in mere minutes more snow fell to the ground. Soft, thick and pure white snow layered unto the old one. The children shrieked in delight, sticking their tongues out as the snowflakes fell to the ground. The snowflakes made their way to the little kid's tongues, guided by Jack.

The day was ending, soon the kids would be called home by mugs of hot chocolate and the warmth of fires.

Today had been a decent day and if another man was taken by the winter by the end of tonight, then all the better for the whole world.

A/N: I've decided to continue it I also might make it Pitch x Jack, just warning you all. Fav, bookmark and review!