EDIT thanks for the review pointing out errors. Freekin website. Should be fixed now

Jack woke up, slowly, staring in curiosity at the bars right ahead. A slow glance around revealed he was lounging in one of the hanging cages, legs stuck out through the bars and hanging in open space. There was also his warm blanket carefully tucked around his body and a large cushy pillow between his back and more bars.

It was rather comfy.

At least until Jack noticed how much his head hurt, all stuffed feeling, and his throat felt rough and dry. It reminded him how the bright ball map had caused him to cry. And that made the young man pull his knees up tight against his chest and hide his face.

Beneath him, and unseen in the normal gloom of the realm, Pitch sighed heavily and refused to acknowledge and creatures trying to curry favor by curling around his ankles. He did not want to deal with this. This... this was more emotion than he was equipped to deal with it.

One might be surprised, but even before he had become embroiled in the Shadows, Pitch had never been the best at cheering people up. War did not call for that skill fortunately.

"Jack." On silent command, or because his fearlings were still being nice, the hanging cage lowered smoothly.

Why he actually had the cages and where they had come from, Pitch did not know and was not about to question. It was better that he not consciously understand the oddities of the Fears. As that was a short path to insanity.

And large, wet, brown eyes were now staring at him with soul sucking sadness.

Dear fears above.

All of his shadowed minions reared back and fled. And Pitch would never forgive the creatures for abandoning-

The cage clicked open, and really now it might as well not have any locks the way it just clicked open at the slightest thought, and Jack spilled out with a near ton of blankets and folded into Pitch like a starving man on food.

"I do-don't wan-"

Warm arms wrapped around Pitch's waist, sobbing snot covered face shoved into his chest, and the boy clung with all the strength in his lanky body.

Pitch sputtered, eyes flashing around the room, arms held above the brown head, and desperately wished for anyone else to be in his place. The sobbing, and by all the happy thoughts, he could feel snot and other liquids ripping through his robes and into his skin.

His face remained pained, horribly unhappily screwed up, but Pitch let his hands pat at the boy's back, much like one would pat a being so disturbing it was beyond comprehension.

"I want to go home." Brown eyes, filled and overflowing with fat tears stared into Pitch's own dark eyes. "Please."

For a brief moment Pitch thought of another child, long since lost to the ages, and accepted that the snot would never come out of his skin. Instead he folded his arms closer around the human boy and sighed, eyeballing the shadows starting to creep back.

"If I were to return you, you would only drown beneath that cursed pond."

One of the shadows slid forwards, curling around the mismatched boots they'd previously stolen for the boy.

"We..." Pitch brushed a hand over the wild brown hair as the boy calmed and burrowed closer. "Did not think, and stole you between life and death, and can not give you back."

"Is," Jack sniffed, and Pitch closed his eyes desperately not watching as the boy wiped his nose on the black cloth in his fist. "Is that why huge beasts would eat the earth if I went home?"

"Multi tentacled beasts." Pitch corrected absently. He sneered at an Old fear that came from sailors. "That would destroy humanity and eat their pitiful brains."

"Oh." Jack sat back a little, hand still wrapped in the dark robes, and looked away. "There was this globe... and it was like my mom's hugs."

Pitch remained silent, to busy inwardly cursing do gooding guardians that could not be bothered to make sure impressionable children were kept away from the magic artifacts.

"I..." Pitch eyeballed more of the shadows now curled up against Jack's back, and looked away from the red face. "It is not my area of specialty, but I am willing to... attempt...hugs... if you shall attempt to withhold crying."

The sheer disgust in Pitch's voice at the word 'hugs' was enough to surprise a laugh out of Jack. A wet and soft laugh, but it was a start.