Never go for a walk without having a concise plan in mind. Actually, never do anything without having a reason for it, many different reasons preferably, it really is for your own good.

Pitch would lack back on this moment, when he could have turned around back to his nice safe lair, with regret and the burning desire to smash his head in against a hard surface. He could have saved so much headache.

Hindsight was a unique type of...woman.

"No!"

Fear. Pitch's head rose, hidden between frosted trees in the rising shadows, feeling his ever present shadows perking up. There it was. Drifting along with wind as if no one wanted it. Poor sad little creatures, what horror they must be going through, to create such rich and tasty emotions.

Shadows rushed ahead of Pitch, impatient little bastards, crawling along trees and speeding towards the screaming.

Coming out into a lovely little clearing, short snow covered rock wall surrounding the water, and many trees for Pitch and his fearlings to hide around and between their shadows. It was the screaming children balancing precariously on the thin ice of the pond that had his strictest attention.

Apparently Pitch was on the nice list this year, and nice enough for an early present.

A quick second look confirmed that yes, he was, the only person around to enjoy the emotional bouquet. A sideways glance, eyeballing his drooling fearlings, and internal rephrasing. The only ones around were Pitch and his night mares.

Ahem. Children. Yes...

Small and half starved looking, like the majority of the current human population, better than his adored Dark Ages; but not by much in this new continent. But more importantly; children so very fearful amidst the sound of cracking ice.

The fearlings slid forwards, out of place and obvious, until they slipped between the ice cracks and surrounded the small creatures. Pitch watched as the brown haired boy eyed the cracks himself, thin lines sharper than his scythe blade, moving ever closer to the smaller girl child.

Soft brown eyes, wide and panicked, watched as the cracks moved beneath the wrong person. Emma was looking down, just as frozen, as water started beading up between her feet. Then the fear spiked as the creeping shadows were spotted, swirling between cracks and along their feet, bringing soft, lilting, happy sounding laughter and heavy hoof beats from invisible horses.

Pitch slipped forwards, out from behind the trees, getting a better view of the action, as the boy tried comforting the small girl. He watched in interest as quick shadows of his night mares passed under the ice, dark shadows getting thicker with every exhale of fear.

The boy, young male, twisted to meet Pitch's golden eyes, fear so heavy Pitch could hold his breath and still taste it. Not that he would waste any bit of the delightful emotion. But the description was still apt.

But here was a boy that could see him. One on the cusp of adulthood but still believing. It was almost shocking.

The shadows around the two children doubled again, completely ignoring Pitch's internal musings, until the whole pond was filled with rolling shadows, apart from two small circles that let the children watch the ice around their feet.

"Emma, don't look down, look at me." The male child had a voice that belonged to an older man, a slight surprise to Pitch, given the child's thin and sharp features. "We're going to have some fun okay?"

"Fun?" Such a soft and quavering voice she had. "Jack?"

Pitch slipped forward, irritated that the boy tried to ignore him, until he was paused just before the ice's edge.

"Are you frightened? Such thin cracks those are, and right beneath her." Golden cat eyes were grinning smugly as the boy twitched and glanced over. "This is what happens when children disobey their parents and go off on their own."

Emma didn't respond, frightened eyes locked on her brother, while the brown eyed boy bit his lip and glared at Pitch. Another clink, ice spiderwebs brushing against encroaching shadows, Emma whimpered as she leaned forwards with outstretched hands.

"Emma don't look at him," Jack grinned again, almost hiding his fear, stretching his own hands out. "We can play some hopscotch, that's fun."

"Jack." Emma glanced around, "Stop playing."

His staff was only a few steps away. He could make it. He had to make it, and then he could get Emma to safety.

"Children that don't understand the need for fear become a lesson for those that do." Pitch warned cheerfully. "Poor, sweet, children. Such a shame."

Jack's foot came up, wavering back, awkwardly balancing before hopping sideways.

Craaaaaaack.

A large crack was spreading between the two children.

"I would be very careful about your next step. It would be so sad to cause her death." Pitch grinned widely as the girl kept whimpering and the boy eyed the staff beyond his reach. "You are so very frightened."

Jack's desperate brown eyes met Pitch's.

"A pity she will not need to fear much longer."

Emma whimpered, her shadow twisting around to poke at the drops of water, spilling upwards against her ice-skates, short crackling noises letting loose the water hidden beneath.

"Not her." Jack whispered, one more hop to his staff, he could use it on her, "I won't let you take her."

"Let, my dear boy?" Sharp teeth grew sharper as Pitch floated closer across the ice. "I'm just an innocent bystander, here for your delicious fear. Such a wonderful bouquet of fear, anger, and guilt at causing your dear sister's death."

Emma's shadow looked like it was vanishing into the ice. The water about to break through and swallow her.

"Please don't leave me."

Jack couldn't reach her, not without breaking the ice around her, but the man glided across the ice without a single crack.

"Alas it seems it must end." "I'll give you fear!"

The dark man stopped at the impertinent shout, giving Jack a slightly less bored look over his shoulder, the type of look a cat would give the mouse as it decides whether playtime is over. That type of look never ended well for the mouse.

"I'll give you all the fear you ever want! But you save her!" Jack's eyes caught and focused on where Pitch stood carelessly over thin ice. "Please."

"Jack," Emma whined softly, tears freezing on her eyelashes. "Please stop playing, I'm scared! I'm going to fall!"

"You're not going to fall Emma!" Jack hopped sideways again, teeth biting his lip, cracks almost muffling his triumphant laugh as he hand surrounded aged wood.

Pitch snorted inelegantly at the display, what would happen now was in the hands of the child, turning away from the children. He could do nothing for the girl in any case, and if it was her fate to die, he would prefer not to be witness.

"Ready?" Pitch paused and waited at the boy's voice. "It's your turn, just... hop!"

Hands clenched, Pitch looked again, the shepherd's crook catching around the girls tiny body and launching her onto the thicker safe ice. It might have ended like that, if not for physics and equivalent reactions, and the boy stumbling forwards.

Emma fell to her knees, huge grin spreading across her face in delight and relief, shadows jumping away from the sudden absence of fear. Jack returned her grin, breath escaping in a brief laugh, he'd done it.

Then her eyes widened, grin vanishing, and the shadows rushed in before Jack could register the loudest crack yet.

"Jack!"

It burned. There was the split second, moving so very slowly that it made him want to shout hurry up, where Jack heard the ice break completely and his sister's fear exploded in the shadows surrounding them.

And then he burned. So very cold, and it felt like the bully three cabins down had punched his stomach, stealing his breath.

The light was just out of his reach, he could see the moon hiding above the surface, just out of reach. A few shadowy tendrils slid in, blocking the moon, snatching at his wrists and clothing until they were wrapped around his entire body. Then they slid over his eyes, taking everything.

The crash of a child crashing trough the thin ice was expected. But...

Pitch thought it was going to be the girl. A tragedy he was familiar with, but one he could do nothing about, the bogeyman could hardly touch a child that failed to believe in him. Even if he had wanted to help her, his shadows only moved through her, thrilled with her fear back unable to do anything other than feed on it.

Then the boy sacrificed himself.

And well, Pitch was a little hasty and reacted before he could remember he was an observer only. It was't every day that he found someone that could see him. He would deny gasping when he vanished.

If he'd had the time to sigh he would have. Instead his, hah, shadows were swarming and diving through the hole in the ice after the foolish child. Leaving Pitch on the solid ice with the sobbing girl, and with the bodily fluids she was dripping, Pitch was happy he was unseen for once.

"Blasted creatures."

Pitch was still rolling his eyes as the shadows crawled up his legs and retreated.

Smashing into the ground wasn't the most... pleasant... of ways to wake up, Jack discovered. In fact it hurt. A lot. And it needed to be repeated. Especially when the frozen, burning cold, water splashed down with him and proceeded to drench him and everything else around him.

"I do hope you haven't frozen to death." Pitch drawled slowly, hands clasped behind his back, head cocked as he eyed his new...something. "You will be here for sometime."

A wet thud was the boy's ingenious answer.

The smile dropped from Pitch's face, a little abruptly, as the child only blinked slowly at him before falling unconscious. Unending fear was a lovely concept, and it wasn't like he could return the thing, but what on his mares manes was he supposed to do with a human child? This never happened to the supposed 'good guys'.

Pitch released his hands and started rubbing at the troublesome spot between his eyes. This is why one should never let emotions rule them. Instead, he had let the black and frozen muscle in his chest rule, and reacted like a, a... a guardian.

A wet cough reminded Pitch about the still living child.

Bending over, shadows lapping against his legs like excited puppies, Pitch poked at the boy's pale flesh with one pointed finger. Pale and clammy. He was not so old that he forgot humans could freeze to death.

"Well. This is somewhat problematic."

Of course he had many theories on how to deal with said problem, but there was still the annoying muscle in his chest that twinged at the thought of simply dropping the boy back in the pond where he would drown.

His shadows were now nudging at their newest creature, and Pitch could feel some of the older fearlings, the ones that were self aware and well aware that they were older than he, coming out in interest. The smaller ones, his fearlings, slowly morphed into a blanket over the child and settled in.

Once again disgustingly cute. What was the world coming too when shadows would attempt to protect a child .

"Shadows are a creation of light," Pitch eyed them in disgust, as he lectured, "We lack the ability to produce heat. There is no point to this cuddling!"

Silence gathered, the young creatures acting ashamed, until it was broken again by the elders. One specifically with a human blanket, well loved to go by the multicolored and mismatched patches that could be construed as an entirely new creation, completely ignoring Pitch as it dropped the blanket on the child.

"Where did you even find that?" Pitch would have stared, aghast, at the shadow's ingenuity. Only he was still blinded by the bright colors. "Did you steal it from some innocent child?"

Pitch actually felt his heart warm at the thought. The shadows could be adorably sweet when they wanted.

"But that doesn't mean we are keeping him." Pitch added sharply. "I'll most likely kill him in the morning."

The blanket stealing shadow, old as the rocks around them, twisted in a vaguely human shape, matching Pitch's glare. It had a few too many glowing eyes to be at all human, or anything close to comforting. Behind it his fearlings crowded close, most returning to prodding and examining the human.

Whatever Pitch's confused internal feelings, and the fearlings interest, it seemed the boy would live. The previously icy and pale skin had changed to a sickeningly healthy shade of pink. In the pit of his stomach, Pitch was beginning to feel an emotion he had ignored for centuries, utterly disturbing.

Multiple red eyes twisted, making the Bogeyman again press against the spot between his eyes, shadows gathering and lifting the small form.

"Do not look at me like that." Pitch snarled back, "Shadows can not care for a human."

It was something he knew well. No matter what form they may take, the fear loving shadows would never be human, and were incapable of understanding human emotions. They could only destroy the things they took interest in. Love was fictional in their world.

"You will destroy the child. What purpose would that serve?"

The shadow shoved the boy into Pitch's arms. Making a sound quite similar to the one a full tiger gives to the curious sheep resting against it's side. A decidedly new and dreadful sound.

Yet there was the child to worry about first, plotting fearlings later.

"We shall see." Pitch swirled, almost looking like the British aristocrat he sounded like, stalking away with his new charge.