Jack Frost was about to get himself into trouble…again.

Laughing to himself, as he flew over Burgess, he thought about the gift he left for Bunnymund. The six-foot-one, loud-mouthed, stuck-up; kangaroo.

After all what Kangaroo doesn't love a nice exploding carrot cake?

Jack knew it wouldn't be long before Bunny hunted him down. Peter Cottontail was a freaking bunny! Jack just decided to evade the ultimate drama Pooka for as long as he can manage.

Jack's laughter died down to deep chuckles as he soared in the night sky—the moon shining bright above him.

Not even a prank and angry Bunnymund could ruin Jack's spirit. Pitch was gone; Jack was finally a Guardian; He had gained more believers. Nothing could possibly—

Jack was cut short as something punched him in the gut. Feeling the air leave him, Jack fell from the sky like a fly hit by a swatter.

The Winter Sprite fell, hitting branches and falling hard on the ground; his body slamming onto the cold ground with a dull thunk.

Jack groaned his head pounding. With his silver white hair glittering in the moonlight he slowly raised himself to his feet, holding his staff warily.

"That was weird…." Jack said to himself aloud. Suddenly, a swishing noise could be heard. Jack instinctively gripped his cane tighter and pointed it to a pine tree just ten feet away from him.

Nothing.

Jack arched an eyebrow but still stayed alert. Then the swishing sound was heard again—this time followed by high, cruel, laughter.

Jack's heart nearly stopped.

"P—Pitch?" Jack yelled his eyes wide. He was gripping his staff so tight his knuckles were as white as snow.

The laughter grew louder—yet it wasn't the same laughter that Jack had heard just seven months ago. It sounded ragged; as though it were in pain.

"Who else?!" The voice laughed. A dark figure materialized out of nowhere; half of his face was hidden by the shadow of large, snowcapped pine trees—that didn't make the visible features less menacing. The right corner was of his mouth was pulled back into a cruel smile. Sharp razor teeth that would make Tooth shiver were gleaming.

Both of Pitch's amber eyes could be seen—even if the left one was concealed by the darkness—glowing ominously in the moonlight.

Jack's eyes widened. "How are you here?" Jack demanded, his deep voice menacing. "The fearlings took you away!"

"Aw, Jackie. They merely…improved me."

He stepped out of the shadows.

Jack stepped back nervously looking at Pitch in absolute horror.

The left side of Pitch's face was mauled terribly. The upper left corner of his lip was stretched Joker style to his cheekbones. Three long gashes covered his face. His hair was matted, showing off bald spots.

"Pitch," Jack whispered, his blue orbs widened as wide as they could go. "What happened to you?"

Pitch scowled—looking way creepy than even the guardian of Halloween could manage. "Isn't obvious, Frost. You."

Jack faltered, lowering his staff slightly.

"Not the guardians," Pitch said, laughing humorlessly. "If it weren't for you they'd be finished. No…IT WAS ALL YOU!"

Faster than Jack could react, Pitch sent nightmare sand flying toward him. It knocked Jack backwards—sending him flying. He felt more weightless than even when he was surfing the wind. Finally, after what seemed like ages—

Jack's head slammed against a rock. Jack yelled out as a sharp pain came in the back of his head. Stars popped in front of his eyes, blinding him.

"What's wrong Jackie? Afraid to fight?"

Jack shook his head groggily. He used his hand and placed it on the rock—struggling, but managing to stand up.

"I am not afraid of you," Jack growled. "I beat you once and I can do it again."

"That was a while ago, Jackie."

Jack gritted his teeth. "Not that long." Jack cried out and launched himself at Pitch—bringing down sharp, bone-chilling hail.

Pitch waved it idly with his hand and it melted. Jack's expression turned to surprise as Pitch gripped him tightly around the throat. The staff fell to the cold, hard ground.

Pitch grinned, hyperventilating slightly. "Now watch me get revenge."

Pitch stomped his foot on the wooden staff—snapping cleanly into two. Jack winced…but Pitch was only getting warmed up.

STOMP

Three pieces.

STOMP

Four pieces and one cracked rib.

STOMP

Five pieces and two cracked ribs.

STOMP

Six pieces and four cracked ribs.

Jack's eyes widened-so big that blood vessels in his eyes popped. Creating blood spots in his eyes.

"How do you feel Jackie?" Pitch smirked.

Insteading of recieving an answer, Pitch got a glob of spit on his face. Pitch cried out in disgust and released Jack. Jack fell to the ground on his knees clutching his torso gingerly. With Pitch wiping spit off his face, Jack took the opportunity-jumping up and kicking Pitch in the stomach.

The blow knocked the wind out of both Jack and Pitch. Then, hoping on escpaing, Jack turned around and started running in the opposite direction. He knew he was being stupid-he wouldn't be able to go anywhere without his staff. Jack only managed a good five feet before falling face first in the snow.

Jack closed his eyes, heart beating extremely fast.

Footsteps. Then a hand closing around Jack's throat. Jack squrimed but moving hurt.

He was sweating heavily, tears of pain in his eyes. Pitch smirked, gripping Jack's neck tighter with his left hand. Then, Pitch slowly raised his left hand—it grew five inch nails that could have passed as claws. Savoring the moment; Pitch then raked his claws over Jack's stomach.

Jack's face contorted with pain; under complete and total agony. "Nngh!" Jack cried out, his eyes scrunched up.

"What's the matter, Jack? You can't handle the pain?"

Pitch grinned at his fullest and slashed Jack's stomach and torso over, over, and over. Finally Jack couldn't hold it in any more. He let out a high scream—a scream that no one would hear. Jaime wouldn't be able to hear him from the forest—no one would be able to.

Pitch closed his eyes at the sweet sound of Jack's pain and dropped him to the ground. Jack screamed again as his body crashed against the ground and curled into a tight ball of pain. Rips and tears were visible in his sweatshirt, and blood flowed thoroughly from his torso. Blood was also dripping from his head, where it had crashed from the rock previously. The blood all came from the fissure in the back of his skull.

"Pitch…." Jack groaned, his eyes half-closed. "S—St..op. Stop…"

Pitch raised his right hand and slashed Jack's left cheek. Jack screamed and rolled over onto his back, panting.

Pitch now only smiled softly looking at his worst enemy lying on the ground. "It feels different doesn't it? It's nice to see the tables of finally turned." Pitch turned, planning on leaving, yet paused. "And in case you get any ideas of simply walking for help."

Pitch opened his palm and a dark baseball bat appeared. He chuckled and then brought the bat crashing down on Jack's right knee cap.

There was a loud sickening crack and Jack's deafening scream.

"Good-bye Jack."

Pitch flashed a smile at Jack before melting into the shadows.

It was forming at the back of Jack's throat and Jack couldn't stop it. A sob burst from his lips and his chest was shaking.

Jack Frost was crying.

His staff was broken and scattered around his pained figure. Jack didn't know how many hours passed; but after what seemed like, forever, blackness tinged at the corner of his eyes.

Just before Jack Frost fell unconscious, he saw a mane of raven hair and bright forest green eyes.

"Don't worry," she said. "You'll be fine."

Then Jack knew nothing more.