. . .

Okay. I think it's here that I apologize for the sheer lateness of this chapter and for the overall complete lack of weight behind any of my so-called "promises" .

I don't think I'll do that anymore- but what I CAN say is that I recently graduated from high school (yay!) and I now have a LOT of free time on my hands- mind you, I'm working on a lot of personal projects, but I've got a lot more time to devote to fanfiction-writing- on this note, I have to give a huge thanks to a reviewer who left a suggestion for a chapter the other day- throughout the long break, I'd gotten a few favourites and follows for Permafrost (which were great, honestly, thank you all so much!) but it had been such a long time since anyone actually said anything that my thoughts on this fic were mostly "yeah maaaybe I'll keep going with this, but does anyone actually caaare?" and all sorts of other depressing things that were seriously messing with my enthusiasm for it -_-

So yeah, thanks, Namesake- I'm working on that chapter of yours now- just a quick fluffy oneshot ^-^

ANYWHO.

It's good to be back- thanks to everyone that's followed and favourited in the time that I've been gone~

This chapter has the makings of a longer plot to it, which I might build on- but more of that in the afterword :D

Enjoy~

Set eight years after the movie

The time was 2:42am. A small gaggle of teenagers surrounded a wide television screen, transfixed. The room was lit only by the light from the device, sending a cool, ethereal glow onto the faces of its inhabitants. Rain pelted down outside, its low thrumming providing the only noise in the large house, rebounding uselessly over the ignorant ears of the people inside.

Suddenly, there was a flash, a roar, and then a scream.

"Monty!" someone complained. A girl- Pippa- who was sitting cross-legged on the couch with Monty and Sophie. "It's just thunder!"

"It is?!" came another panicked voice.

Several surprised faces turned to the palest of them all, taking in the sight of the one and only Jack Frost caught mid-stride on his way to the window of Pippa's massive living room, half turned-back to address his younger companions. Bathed in blue light from the television, the spirit almost seemed to glow. His expression was an awkward mix of fear, shock and determination. He stood rigid, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," Claude said slowly. He was lying on his stomach on the floor beside his twin, half on his side in order to face Jack. "Why?"

"Oh." Jack relaxed, walking back over and reclaiming his position crouched on the back of the cushy chair Jamie was lounging in. "Sorry," he chuckled, releasing a shaky breath. "Never heard it before."

"Really?" Pippa asked in surprise. "Never?"

"Well, I've never been anywhere that wasn't experiencing winter before. Well," he amended, "I've been to some places, but none that had any thunderstorms going at the time, and nowhere too warm, either. I have heard of thunder, though. Just never heard it naturally."

"But you've seen lightning?"

"Yeah, well..." Jack trailed off, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "There are a few people I know that can create lightning, but..." he shook his head, waving his hand dismissively and pointing to the screen. "Not important. What's happening now?"

"Hawkeye and a couple other of the guys Loki's controlling are attacking the airship," Caleb said, shoving a wad of popcorn into his mouth. "An' Capthain 'Murica n' 'Ir'n Man 're arguin'."

"Can we watch the SpongeBob Movie after this?" Sophie asked sleepily, letting her unruly hair trail over the arm of the couch.

"Sure," Jamie replied, sending his sister a soft, tired smile. "Everyone okay with that?"

"Heck yeah, SpongeBob rocks," Claude muttered, glaring at Monty, who had snickered.

"Monty?"

The boy in question sighed heavily, sinking back. "Yeah, fine. I'm cool with whatever."

A chorus of agreeing murmurs was heard by all, but the movie didn't even get a chance. As exciting as the supernatural adventure was, as dreamsand drifted undetected through the window and into the eyes of those present they found their eyes falling shut, their minds sinking into the depths of the dreams Sandy had created for them. After peering out the window and giving a quick salute to the golden man drifting by, Jack carefully slotted the disc back into its case. The house was silent but for the light shimmer of the dreamsand shifting gently about the room, the quiet snores and scuffles of the teens worn down by hot chocolate and cosy blankets, and the near-silent footsteps of the immortal winter legend as he slowly, with incredible delicacy, slid the Avengers Blu-Ray case back into its position on a large shelf beside the television.

Smiling, Jack closed his eyes and leant against his staff as he listened to the gentle drumming of the rain outside. Thunder roared on occasion, following closely behind bright flashes that set Jack's image aflame. He no longer flinched at the sound- though he was still unused to it.

Heaving a small sigh, Jack turned and gazed at his companions, his mind lingering on the brief conversation they'd had earlier. It was true that he'd never heard thunder before, nor had he ever seen lightning in its natural state- but he had run into more than a few irritated spirits with control over that very force. Jack sighed again. Those had not been pleasant encounters.

He bit his lip as the sound rang out again. He didn't mind it too much, but it was still rather unsettling. Shaking his head, he examined Pippa's massive collection of CDs and console games, struggling to distract himself from thoughts of storms and their close companion.

It was at that moment that he heard a small bump, then an accompanying hiss.

Jack reacted immediately, spinning around to face Jamie's chair and staring at the small space beneath it. It was from there that he had heard the noise, though to say this confused him was an understatement. The space was tiny- there was no way anyone of considerable size could ever fit beneath it, let alone create such a loud noise.

And beneath Jamie's chair!

Jamie's!

Jack set his mouth into a grim line and lowered himself to the floor, pressing the side of his head into the carpet, squinting in his attempt at seeing what- or rather, who- was beneath his first believer's seat.

After a moment, a pair of yellow eyes peered back.

Jack flinched. "Pitch?!" he exclaimed in a loud whisper. The eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?!"

The eyes narrowed further, then shifted, avoiding Jack's gaze. "None of your business, Frost," Pitch spat with derision.

"Oh?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "What was that bump before?" Suddenly, his eyes flew wide and a grin formed on his face. "Was that you hissing?"

The eyes were little more than yellow slits now.

"What were you hissing about?" Jack couldn't help but chuckle, relaxing a little against the floor.

Pitch noticed this and the eyes went back to their normal size. "You shouldn't relax so easily, Jack," he said in a low, smooth voice. "I'm still a threat to you, you know."

"Says the guy hissing underneath people's chairs." Jack grinned a little wider. "Actually..." he paused, then laid himself on the floor, relaxing completely. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, you know."

"Oh? Enlighten me."

"'Bout you. Your role in everything. The lives of children, you know." Jack regarded the shadow for a moment and knew that the other was doing the same to him. "I don't think what you do is actually all that bad."

"Oh?" Pitch seemed genuinely surprised. Then suspicious. "How so?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope. I'm not telling you what I think until you tell me why you're here and what that bump was. And why you hissed," he added slyly.

Pitch huffed, and Jack fought down laughter. It was an extremely odd sound coming from the usually reserved being. "Fine," he muttered. "Well, the hiss is explained easily enough. When I arrived here, I underestimated the amount of space beneath this chair- I was preparing to emerge when I saw you standing by the shelves there. It was unexpected, and I attempted to retreat... hitting my head in doing so."

Jack snorted.

Pitch scowled. "It was involuntary!"

Jack waved his hands. "Yeah, yeah, I know- it's just really fitting. Pitch Black, the menacing, evil bogeyman, hiding beneath children's chairs, hissing into the night-"

"Shut it, twerp!" Pitch snapped. "Do you want to know why I'm here or not?!"

Jack fell silent at that, but he let a smile remain.

Pitch sighed and moved forward, emerging from beneath the chair to stand before Jack, who stood, staring at his former enemy in surprise. The man was even thinner than Jack had last seen him, and incredibly weary. Deep shadows stood out beneath his eyes, which were slightly bloodshot and puffy, and it was hard to miss the slump of his shoulders and his messy hair, which stood out at all angles.

As if only just becoming aware of this, Pitch scowled a little and swept a hand through it, smoothing it back as much as he could. There was just one hair that refused to stay flat, making his appearance strangely comical. Jack chose not to mention it.

Pitch moved to stand before the sleeping children, casting his gaze over Monty, who lay on the couch in a cocoon of blankets, breathing smoothly and deeply in his sleep. Jack followed close behind, feeling oddly at ease. It struck him that he should feel more guarded around the man who had thrice tried to kill him, but for one reason or another, he simply couldn't bring himself to tense. Perhaps it was nothing but his diminished appearance, but Jack couldn't see Pitch as the threat he'd once been.

He waited patiently, then Pitch spoke, gesturing to the blonde-haired teen who, as lightning shone for an instant, lighting the room, and thunder rolled deep through their ears, gave a small whimper and curled in on himself.

"This one is terrified of storms. It is only now appearing in his dreams- it might not show too well yet, but he feels it- fear, clawing at him from the inside, and where it spawns, I arrive. Feeding on it like some despicable leech," he spat bitterly. He paused, and then a small frown creased his brow. "And you say there is a part for me in this? In the lives of children? You say there is a place for this fear?"

"Yes, I do," Jack replied. "Like I said, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately."

"Don't injure yourself."

Jack shot Pitch a wry smile. "You know, you're not all that bad when you aren't trying to take over the world or anything."

The frown deepened. "Your point, Jack."

"My point is... Well... I guess I just feel like... like fear is necessary, somehow."

". . . Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean," Jack waved a hand around the room, glancing at each of the children lying around them, his gaze lingering on Jamie for a moment before focusing back on Pitch, who was regarding him curiously. "Half of the human experience is being afraid, and learning to overcome that fear."

Pitch scoffed, and Jack hurried to shoosh him.

"I'm not saying that life is all about destroying what you create," he said softly. "I'm saying that... well, imagine a world without fear. People would do the dumbest things just because they weren't scared of the repercussions. People would jump outta trees because they weren't afraid of getting hurt. They'd say stupid things to their friends because they weren't afraid of being hated. A lot of people would probably go to war because they weren't afraid of dying..." He chuckled lightly. "Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but honestly I don't think it's by much. It's nice to not be scared of things, but whatever we're not scared of, we're only not scared of it because we've mastered fear of it. Because we've had the time and experience to learn all about what could happen if we were stupid with our abilities, to know our limitations, to know how badly we'd be hurt if we did something wrong."

"Then you're saying that fear is a method to learn one's measure?"

"For a lot of people, yeah. For kids, it's about learning the ways of the world. Learning the rules of existence- if you play too rough, someone will get hurt. If you say mean things, you'll lose your good friends."

"If fear is so important, then why do the Guardians continually deny me my right to spread it?"

The words sounded terse, and slightly shaken. It was a long moment before Jack replied, and when he did, it was careful, subdued.

"You were trying to rule with fear. You were trying to use fear as a weapon to further your own ambitions. The Guardians understand that there needs to be at least a little fear in the world- but they also understand that too much of it can cause chaos. They exist partially to ensure that a good balance is maintained- the day they recognise you as an integral part of this system is the day that you learn to do that yourself."

"And who says I want to be recognised by the likes of them?"

"No-one." Jack shrugged. "I just think it'd make things easier for you. You'd probably be allowed to have some believers if the Guardians knew you weren't going to abuse your power- probably make some friends out of us legends, too."

"I-"

"And don't give me any of that "I don't need friends!" crap, either. I know you enough to know that you're not satisfied just by talking to your fearlings and hanging over sleeping kids in the night like a predator." Jack laughed. "If it was, you wouldn't be talking to me now. You would have done away with anything I had to say and gone slinking back to wherever it is you hide now."

Pitch pursed his lips, eyes narrowed, but he didn't turn away. Jack was the first to break eye contact, and when he did, it was only to resume scanning Pippa's movie collection.

"Wanna watch something?" he asked nonchalantly, hooking his staff around his shoulders. "There are a few movies here you'd probably like."

There was a long moment of silence- one lasting long enough that Jack felt the need to check that the man was still with him- but the man was still there, standing tall, still, hands clasped behind his back, eyes trained steadily on the boy that had helped to thwart him not long ago. It was even longer before Pitch moved, but when he did, Jack couldn't hide his surprise as the man swiftly took his place beside him, finger raised to the shelf, trailing along in time to his inspection of the names of what had to be hundreds of movies and programs. Not bothering to cover his smile, Jack began pointing out the ones he thought might interest his shadowy companion, and in the end they ended up settling for an English comedy named "Spaced". As Jack slotted the DVD into the player, turned down the volume and pressed "play", he and Pitch settled side-by-side on the floor with an air of nervous anticipation.

. . .

To say that Jamie was confused was a great understatement. When he'd awoken to the sounds of shouting and raucous laughter, he had simply assumed that it was morning and that his friends were already up to their usual shenanigans- so when he blearily opened his eyes to find the world still dark but for the television and his friends all still asleep, he hadn't been sure what was happening.

Then he saw the two figures lounging in front of the brightly-lit screen.

He saw Pitch- Pitch Black- the man who had tried to take over the world only eight years previous- leaning heavily on his former foe, head bowed in wheezing laughter as Jack did much the same, staff hanging loosely in his hand, almost forgotten in the air of reckless camaraderie he shared with the dark figure.

Jamie stayed still, not wanting to be discovered, lifting his eyes to the screen. He watched only half-heartedly, paying closer attention to the two on the floor, who stayed in a perpetual state of silent giggling. It was only when the episode ended that they both calmed down, but even then, when Jack, beaming, skipped to the next episode, Pitch still had a small, lingering smile softening his features. To Jamie, who had never seen him with anything but a wicked smile twisting his lips, the look was strange, but not unwelcome. It made him seem like a completely different person.

He watched them for a while longer, but soon enough, he was asleep. When he woke, the man was gone, and Jack, wearing his usual grin, was the only one to bid him good morning.

Jamie, for his part, failed to mention the fact that he'd witnessed the makeshift companionship between Jack and the Bogeyman, but he never felt the need. Jack was sure to tell him about it soon enough- and if not, he wasn't worried. He trusted Jack enough for that.

. . .

"So? Can we do this again sometime?" Jack asked hopefully, turning the television off with a click.

Pitch hesitated, mouth tightening. Though neither could see it through the ongoing storm, they knew the sun was rising- the children would be awake soon, and it was doubtless that they wouldn't be too happy with Pitch's presence. In the end, they'd ended up watching the entirety of Spaced, as well as the first few episodes of Black Books and had, despite original misgivings, thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

". . . I'm not sure we'd get the chance, Jack," he finally murmured. "It's not like you have a television sitting on the surface of your pond, much less somewhere to plug it into- and I doubt the children would appreciate a visit from me at this point- that is, if we discount the Guardians from all this. They won't be happy you did this."

"No, they probably won't," Jack shrugged. "They still have a while before they'll be willing to consider you as someone to associate themselves with. They've got a lot to forgive you for, still- you've got a lot to make up for. But..." Jack sighed. "I just... can't help but feel weird about it. To be honest... I think the only reason I was given a chance is because I was chosen to be a Guardian- because Manny took notice of me. Don't get me wrong, I've been friends with Sandy a while- he's been great to talk to, and he never saw wrong in what I was trying to do, but it didn't take me long to get on Bunny and North's bad sides, and I'd been stuck there until they were told to let me get close." Jack paused. "I'm grateful that I'm a Guardian now- that I have a place I can say I'm going home to- that I have people I can call family. But I won't forget how lonely I was- how hard I had to struggle to get where I am today. I don't like what you did eight years ago, Pitch- in fact, I hate it. But I understand. And I think, given time, you might see your own job the way I do- and when that time comes, you might just get a chance to reconcile yourself with the Guardians. Not that you have to, I just think it would be good for the both of you." Jack stopped just as he opened his mouth to say more, frowned, then continued. "This kinda makes me sound like I hold some kinda grudge against them, doesn't it?" When Pitch smirked, Jack chuckled and shook his head. "Don't misunderstand me, I love those guys- every one of them, and everything that they've done for me- I really, really love them. And they've tried their hardest to make up for the years they left me alone. I just feel like you should be given the same chance I got. It'll still take a while, though..." Trailing off, Jack took a deep breath. "But in the meantime- we should still get together sometime. I won't be hanging out here for much longer- it's gonna get really hot soon, so I'll be having my fun elsewhere, but that shouldn't stop us." Jack paused, then grinned. "We should meet up at that awesome monument to our combined power we made."

Pitch's brow shot up in surprise. "I would have thought you'd destroyed that thing- not exactly the greatest reminder to what happened, is it?"

Still grinning, Jack replied, "No, not the greatest- but I could never bring myself to get rid of it. I might not like what you were trying to do when we made that, but it's a testament to your sincerity, I think. To the fact that we really do understand each other more than the Guardians might like to believe. Meet me there next week? Same time?"

A long, long moment passed before Pitch replied.

Okay, first: I know that a lot of you may consider this to be out-of-character for either Pitch or Jack, but I suppose that just depends on the way each of us individually see the characters- for me, I see it as Jack having spent the entirety of 300 years trying to figure out who he is, why he exists- what his reason for being is if not to just cause trouble, as he always seems to do. I see him as having somewhat of an acquaintance with Pitch, the Bogeyman, who was similar to him on a lot of levels but not quite enough to do more than have a chat every now and then. It's pretty clear that they're at least somewhat familiar with each other in the movie- especially given the way that they talk to each other. Pitch makes it sound like Jack's betrayed him just by being with the Guardians- and that's right at the beginning, before they've even properly interacted with each other. And I've read a lot of other fics in which Pitch comes back like five years later and suddenly "woah, he's so powerful now, he gonna take over the world again oh no~!" and don't get me wrong I don't mind those fics- they're usually written by great people and I enjoy reading them- but I personally don't really see that as very likely. Pitch has just spent a looooong long time building up this ultimate attack, only to be thwarted by the Guardians yet again- I imagine that, rather than instantly seeking revenge or whatever, Pitch would then kind of sink into a slump- not every villain is so rage-minded, and I see Pitch as this. Jack, meanwhile, whilst enjoying his new position with the Guardians, isn't the sort to let that sort of thing go- to just accept that Pitch is evil and that's that. I think, given the fact that he himself was seen as a menace to many not long before, Jack would feel the need to consider Pitch as someone who just needs a chance to understand themselves- their role- just as he did- in order to become someone who can be a part of the system and not a threat to it. Still, you know, like I said, this is my own opinion, and I don't expect anyone to agree with me. And I know they might seem a bit tooooo chummy in this chapter to some- so this is where I casually mention that I'm definitely going to do another chapter on this subject later, with them maybe having some awesome flashbacks to short meetings within those eight years prior to the events of this chapter.

THAT WAS A LONG PARAGRAPH WASN'T IT.

Yes.

But aside from that, thanks for reading :D Favourites and follows are hoarded gleefully, engraved on trophies and displayed on my shelf, and reviews are looked upon with the eye of the pirate who just found One Piece.

Also, corrections, issues, statements- anything is welcome, as long as you're nice about it ^-^

Also, has anyone here watched Spaced or Black Books? Awesome stuff :3

THANK YOU FOR READING ALL~

I'm not going to promise "a new chapter real soon, guys!", but I'm definitely continuing this fic, k? :)

Baibai~