When Jack was a young spirit-ten years, five months, three days and roughly six hours old; he accidentally attracted the attention of the wrong people.

Not that there was a right kind of people at that point, but these people were certainly some of the worst people he could be noticed by. He'd been spreading winter and feeling overall lonely and abandoned when he'd seen what looked like tear in the universe.

It was jagged, like the air had just flattened into cloth and been cut straight through, and he could see through it to...something. He'd hovered a little closer, and then he'd poked it with his stick.

Bad idea.

Almost immediately, he'd found himself pulled through to the other side of the rip. He fell on his face on some sort of stone.

"Owww..." he whined softly, rubbing his forehead. When he got up, he looked around-he'd never stood on brickwork before, never having been inside. He was surrounded by stone on all sides, paths and pillars going in crazy angles over his head and under his feet and everywhere. He couldn't figure out the gravity of the place, since some pillars were sideways and some bridges upside down and some platforms, like the one he was standing on, at any angle across the cavern. It was all dark, but there was a slight grey glow from most surfaces-enough to see, but not enough to defeat the shadows. The whole place looked abandoned, but had no spider webs or dust anywhere. It was eerie.

"Hello?" Jack had called cautiously. There had been no answer, just a tiny slither and stir of shadows he'd dismissed as nothing at the time-a foolish mistake he would never make again.

He had walked to the edge of the platform, then gone for broke and jumped off of it. Almost immediately, gravity pulled up and he fell on to one of the bridges he'd seen earlier. Jack laughed. This was fun!

He spent the next hour or so simply jumping around, learning the physics of the place and how to work with its odd gravity. His only worry was that he couldn't feel the Wind, but he was sure he'd be able to find it soon. Besides, flying would be hard with the twisting paths of gravity in this place, he would constantly be slamming into things.

Eventually, though, he wanted to go home. He began to search for an exit, hoping there would be another portal around like the one he'd come in through. He covered a lot of distance, learning as he went how the world there worked. Apparently, if he jumped right, he could get just about anywhere he wanted to-he could even fall for what felt like miles before hitting a platform, but he always landed lightly enough not to get hurt. It was like a giant playground!

Soon he found a tear, but there was a man made of shadow in front of it. He had no definition, looking more like a silhouette than a man. Jack didn't know it then, but the shifting shadows earlier had been this man being summoned into existence.

"Excuse me? Hello, what's this place?" Jack didn't hold out much hope that this man would hear him, but he supposed it was only polite to try.

To his surprise, the man gave the impression of turning around to face him-it was hard to tell, with only the outline to discern where his face was. It held a sword out at the ready.

"Woah, woah, no need to freak out, I just need to get back home! I think I got a bit lost, and that portal might take me home, I hope," Jack informed him, holding his empty hand in front of him and his staff behind him in a signal of peace.

The shadow man dashed at him, swinging his sword wildly. Jack only barely ducked in time to miss it, bending to shoot frost at the man with his staff. The man dodged, but Jack was able to flip his staff and use the momentum to swing it. He hit the man with the butt of his staff and the shadow dissipated.

"Huh," Jack mumbled to himself, "that was weird."

Whatever, he had places to go. He jumped through the tear.

The first thing he felt on the other side of the hole in the universe was heat. It was so hot he could barely stand it, and in a panic he called up as much snow and ice as he could. He needed it to stop being so hot, it was melting him!

In his haste to cool down, he called up a large blizzard. Whatever this too-hot place was, it would be getting a couple feet of snow. Served it right for being so hot. Now how to get home?

Jack!

Oh! He could hear the Wind again!

Where are we, Wind? I went through a tear in the world, and I went to this place with bridges and things in it, and then there was weird gravity and I killed a shadow! But now I'm here, and it's way too hot!

Australia. I looked everywhere for you, I was so worried! Warn me next time!

'Warn me next time,' not 'don't do that.' That was what Jack liked about the Wind. It was as free as he was, and it never tried to stop him from doing anything. All it wanted was for Jack to make some attempt at caution and it would be happy with him. It was good to hear he was back in his world, too! Even if he was probably on the wrong side of the equator.

...Whoops. He'd made it snow in Australian summer. Or fall. Or something. Jack giggled to himself.

The next three hours were spent fleeing from an irate Easter Bunny, who kept yelling about ruining Easter and obnoxious sprites refusing to follow their schedules. Jack kept laughing the whole time, relieved to be home.

That was the Easter of 1768, and that was the first time it happened.

The second time it happened he was gone for an entire week, and the Wind nearly blew some entire towns over looking for him. He had to fight more shadow men that time, and he learned that they could be killed with frost with a little effort, or he could just hit them with his stick or fists or feet and they would poof away. He started using the odd gravity of the place to his advantage-the shadow men didn't seem to understand it very well, and he could buy some time or get rid of them entirely by getting into the right 'stream' of gravity and falling to a completely different bridge. He particularly liked trapping them in streams he himself had struggled to get out of. It gave him some vindictive pleasure to watch other people get trapped in the same places he had-the architecture in this place was ridiculous.

When he got back, Santa Claus told him that he was endangering children trying to blow down buildings like this, and that the Guardians were enemies he didn't want to make. Jack had quickly realized that the Wind had been looking for him...perhaps not quite as carefully as it could have. Wind didn't much care about human life. Jack had laughed and said that the unusually strong winds came because he lost something, but he'd found it, so they needn't worry any further about him. He hugged his staff a little closer to his body, implying that it was that that he'd lost and not the Wind that had lost him. Not a lot of people thought the Wind was its own spirit, and those who knew about it thought that Jack's Wind and the North Wind were completely different. Jack didn't feel the need to correct them on that assumption.

That was the second time.

The third time he actually tried to figure out what was going on, and who was creating the portals. He warned the wind before leaving, so there were no natural disasters that time. He didn't find a cause for the portals, though. When he came back, the only Guardian who actually cared about him was at his pond. Sandy wanted to know if he was okay, worried as he was by the unusually balmy winter. Jack was pretty sure Sandy had thought he'd died.

Jack never told the Guardians about the other world. He didn't really need to-at that point in his life, they were kind of distant figures, people who enforced not hurting children but otherwise didn't leave their various palaces. He would regret that later, when he became a Guardian himself.

That was the third time.

There was a fourth time, and a fifth. Jack didn't remember them very clearly. He probably just went in, killed some shadow men, explored some, and left.

The sixth time, he wasn't trying to go through the portal. He was flying with the Wind one second, and the next there was a tear right in front of him. He fell through before he could even tell what was going on.

When he came back, the Wind had waited for him without causing too much disturbance, though it scolded him that it had been so worried! and don't you ever do that again! He was just a bit alarmed by how little choice he'd had-he hadn't been able to stop flying in time to avoid the rip in the universe. Normally he just walked through the portal because it was fun and he wanted to.

The seventh time he didn't get even a second's warning for, he was having a snowball fight one second and the next he was being attacked by shadow men.

There was no warning for the eighth, or the ninth, or the tenth or eleventh or twelfth.

On the thirteenth he discovered that he could feel an odd pressure for about five minutes before the world tore itself apart under him. It was like a cloud was being overused, like when it had run out of snow but Jack forced it to continue with willpower and magic, except in the fabric of space instead of the sky. Finally it gave out and broke under the pressure, and Jack fell.

The fourteenth he knew what to look for. He ran as soon as he felt the pressure building up, but it followed him and he was caught.

Fifteen through twenty-two he kept trying to escape it, or stay still so he couldn't walk through a portal, but he was swallowed each time.

It wasn't so fun anymore.

Twenty-three through five hundred thirty-one he just killed shadow men and went on with his life. Whenever he was gone too long he would have to deal with North asking him why he was attacking (he never was, but the Wind got so very worried that it couldn't help being rough on people), or Sandy wondering if he was quite alright, since he wasn't spreading winter. North he could tell any number of lies to, or simply laugh and fly away without saying anything at all, and he could always manage to reassure Sandy with little trouble.

Something changed on time five hundred thirty-two. On five hundred thirty-two, there was someone else there when the tear in the world opened.

Jack had slowly become aware of other portals opening in places where he didn't fall through them. Somewhere between time three hundred and time three hundred and twelve, he'd even sat just outside of that portal and waited. As soon as someone had wandered through-a deer-the portal had closed. Jack had never found the thing's corpse, but there had been blood all over the next time he'd gone to the other world.

Jack tried to go through all the portals he'd felt opening since then. He didn't want other people going through and getting slaughtered-the shadows were getting stronger and faster, and there were more of them now. If he hadn't fought them for all his life, he might not have been able to kill them.

But now, on time five hundred and twelve, there was someone already going through.

He was tall, male, and human-looking, but he could see the portal, so he was either a spirit or a very incredible human being. He had dark hair and grey skin, with a long black robe covering his body.

"Wait!" Jack called, but he was already through.

Quickly, Jack darted after him and barely made it through before the portal closed. He didn't know this man, but he wasn't about to let him get himself killed.

"Idiot! Why did you have to go through the portal? Now I have to babysit you until you manage to get out!" Jack complained, not really expecting to be heard. Sure, the man seemed like a spirit, but it was one thig to seem like a spirit, and a completely different thing to respond to Jack when he talked to you.

"What are you babbling about?" the man-no, he saw Jack, he had to be a spirit-asked crossly.

Jack scowled at him for his tone, even as he inwardly rejoiced that someone was talking to him."Look, I don't know much about this world, but have you ever walked through one of the tears?"

The spirit shook his head.

"Of course. Someone can finally see me, and it's the guy who's about to get himself killed. Now, we have about five minutes before the shad-"

"No one can see you?" The spirit interrupted.

Jack shook his head, annoyed that the spirit wasn't even trying to stay alive. "Look, we don't have time for this! In about three minutes we're gonna get torn apart by shadow men, and then it won't mater who can see who. I don't know what your powers are, but it works well to hit them with just about anything, if you give 'em a good whack." Jack smacked his staff on his hand for emphasis.

"Pitch Black, the Bogeyman. Pleased to meet you," the spirit extended his hand, but he didn't look terribly pleased to be meeting Jack. He wasn't really listening to Jack trying to keep him alive, either. Well, might as well introduce himself and leave, because this guy was dead anyway and Jack couldn't afford to be babysitting someone else when it took up all of his concentration to keep himself alive.

"Jack Frost, I'm sure you can guess what I do." Jack shook the hand offered to him, making sure to spark some cold into it. The more of his magic there was in this guy, the better he'd be able to tell when he died, and it would be useful to be able to track him until then. Hopefully if Jack avoided this Pitch Black, he'd avoid most of the shadow men as well.

Jack let go of the man's hand. "Well, I've given you up for dead, so I'm gonna get out of here while I have a chance!" Jack waved cheerfully before jumping upwards as high as he could, barely getting into a stream of gravity that would lead quickly to a far away platform he could get ready for fights on. He summoned a light coating of frost all over his body, especially thick on his core-armor was far too heavy for his fighting style, but the frost made it easier to ice over injuries and stop himself from bleeding to death, which had saved his life more than once. It also made him feel better-there was something reassuring about being literally surrounded by his own element.

Within minutes, the first shadow men came. He heard a distant yell of surprise, and then a battle cry. It appeared that Mr. Black was getting the brunt of the attack, so he had some more time before he had to fight directly. Jack iced the platform and the surrounding pillars and bridges over. It took a long time, but he had finally gotten the nerve to be comfortable with sliding uncontrollably off the platforms without a second's notice when someone attacked him. It was a quick escape, if a bit alarming. Besides, it was better that the shadow men slipped and dispelled themselves than if they killed him.

A shadow man appeared in front of him, and Jack grinned dangerously. Time to get going.

That was the five hundred and twelfth time.

They continued. Much to Jack's surprise, the Bogeyman didn't die. Soon, his presence was a reassuring life in the back of Jack's mind, present but barely there unless he was right next to Jack, which was rare. They occasionally saw each other whilst doing their jobs in the real world, and they would snark back and forth about how each had not died yet, but there was little real interaction.

Two thousand, eight hundred and forty-three times in. The Bogeyman was still only being kidnaped from his daily life, so Jack was alone whenever he used portals that weren't intended for him. He was fairly sure he and Black were kidnaped at the same times, perhaps with the hope that they'd kill each other. Maybe it was just random. He didn't know.

Jack was alone, this time. He'd just barely gotten to the hole in the universe before a little human girl who couldn't see him-she'd been just about to go through the portal, and Jack didn't wasnt to think about what would have happened if he'd been any later. However, when he got to the other world, he found Mr. Black still there. Had he gotten kidnaped separately from Jack?

It didn't matter. Black was standing on a bridge, surrounded and slowly getting overwhelmed by shadow men. He was going to die if Jack didn't step in.

Well, Jack had given him up for dead before and he'd lived. Maybe he'd come out on top.

The shadow men swarmed at Black, but there was a moment where he jerked to meet Jack's eyes. Black's eyes were desperate. Jack thought he really might die. Then, without thinking, Jack dove into action, jumping into a gravity stream and bringing his staff down like a baseball bat with all the force he could muster on the shadow men. He took advantage of the crook of his staff, hooking shadow men around their necks or waists and throwing them to the side. Sometimes they were up in half a second and fighting again, but sometimes he could hurl them into a gravity stream and get rid of them. They still didn't know how to navigate this plane. Jack used his natural flexibility and his hard-learned parkour to put in more deadly attacks, kicks and flips that dispelled and killed the shadow men.

As Jack did his absolute best to lighten up the onslaught of shadow men, Black recollected himself and began doing his part. He used shadows, it seemed, which was ironic if one thought about who he was fughting. He would grab the shadow men with his own shadows, impaling them or hurling them off of the platform. He was holding a scythe, as well, which he would swing wildly at everything that was too close for comfort. Whenever he stabbed the shadow men through, they disappeared just as quickly as they did when Jack hit them. Useful.

In no time they'd defeated enough shadows that they weren't being completely overwhelmed any longer, and the remaining men were hanging back for a moment. Jack was glad of the reprieve-normally he had enough traps set up and managed to flee enough that he had never had to face that many shadows at once.

"Not bad, Mr. Bogeyman," he panted, standing back-to-back with the larger spirit.

"You could have done worse, I suppose," Black sniffed.

Jack laughed, keeping his staff ready for the next wave of enemies. So that's how this was gonna be, then? Two could play at that game. "At least I didn't need a little winter sprite to save me from the scary shadows," he taunted.

Black scoffed. "Back those words up with actions and you might actually be worth the space you take up."

That was all they had time for before the shadow men attacked. Then they only had time to yell out directions to each other as the assault on their shared bridge increased. The sounds of fighting and the schlik! as shadow men were stabbed through by Black's scythe were only interrupted by cries of "Behind you!" "Right! No, other right! Right!" and "You idiot, you're going to get the both of us killed!"

It was the most fun Jack had ever had in the other world.

Finally, the shadow men were defeated, and Jack painstakingly led Pitch to the portal. Pitch had no navigational ability at all, it turned out, and couldn't use shadows to move around safely lest he fall into a gravity stream and lose contact with his shadows entirely until he hit something. Apparently he needed physical contact with a natural shadow to travel, so it was really a giant waste of time to even try shadow transportation. How he'd ever gotten out of the other world was beyond Jack, but he pledged to fix the shadow traveling thing at some point-shadow transportation would hopefully be faster than Jack yelling at Black and Black doing everything wrong.

With only a couple (a lot) of falls through the wrong streams, the two spirits made it out into the real world. They went their separate ways without saying anything-Black didn't even thank him for the save.

Jack sniffed. Black was a jerk anyway, and it wasn't like Jack needed people or anything. He was just fine on his own.

That was the two thousand, eight hundred and forty-third time.

Jack had lost track of how many times it had been shortly after four thousand and five hundred, but it was probably around then that they finally began to get to know each other. They were being kidnapped less often now, from nearly daily down to once a month or so. Jack was about one hundred years, fifty-three days, and some hours old, and the shadow men had continued getting stronger, so they needed one another to survive going to the other world. Also, in Pitch's words, "You won't die and you keep following me, so we may as well try to see why this keeps happening to us. Perhaps we have something in common that causes this."

Jack interpreted that as 'I'm lonely and you can't leave me without getting killed by shadow men; let's be friends!'

Pitch tried to kill him for that, but that was okay. He wouldn't really kill him any more than Jack would kill Pitch. They were far too dependent on one another's alliance.

Finally, though, they had something of a strategy meeting/bonding session. Mostly they worked on that first part.

"I'm telling you, using my ice isn't going to do much. It can't freeze them in place, they just phase through it! I'm really more useful just guarding your back while you take care of ranged attacks, your shadows are practically everywhere anyway. You let me take care of everything trying to immediately kill us, and I'll let you go ahead and stop them from grouping up and rushing us." Jack argued for the nth time.

"If we kill them all before they get close, we won't need you to bother with killing them at close range! Destroying your enemies is much more effective than protecting yourself from an attack-the best defense is a good offense!"

"We'll never be effective enough to take them all out before they get close! We'll miss one, get sneaked up on, and get ourselves killed. I can set up traps and ice the whole place over before they come, but that'll slip you up if you ever have to move!" Jack argued, slamming his hands on the table they sat at. The coffee shop they were in was rather at odds with their conversation matter, but Jack had insisted, because he didn't like the looks of the creepy Cave of Doom Pitch inhabited, and Pitch refused to have such an important meeting on Jack's pond in full moonlight, and hated too much sunlight. The customers were giving the table littered with papers and battle plans odd looks, but their lack of belief prevented them from seeing anything out of the ordinary, like the papers they were still marking up with battle plans or the flying pens.

"Fine. I will warn you of the-shadow men? Is that what you call them?" At Jack's nod, Pitch continued. "I will warn you of the fiends' approach and try to destroy them before they reach us. If ever they learn ranged attacks or acquire bows, I will disarm and kill those shadow men who attempt to snipe us. You will guard my body as I focus my awareness on the shadows, as well as kill the shadow men who aren't in shadow or who are too close to us for comfort. If there is something I don't notice or am too busy to deal with, you will use your experience navigating the gravity of the Colosseum to get to it and destroy it. Is this acceptable?" Pitch asked Jack, meeting his eyes over the fourty-fifth battle plan he was sketching out. The Colosseum was his favored word for the other world, and to be honest, Jack thought it was a pretty cool name.

"I guess. You'll be taking care of anything that looks like a significant threat and warning me when someone comes? Sounds fair to me," Jack decided, stealing some coffee off of a spacey-looking waitress. She didn't appear to notice its absence, which may or may not have been because she didn't believe in Jack-Jack was fairly sure she wouldn't notice either way.

"That's one thing finished, then. We'll work on the code next." Pitch ordered. Pitch had a tendency to act as if he were a general and Jack was his underling, but the fuss he kicked up about being nothing like a general was too exhausting to deal with to bother calling him on it. Now that Jack thought about it, it was the perfect way to get away with being a jerk-just make it too difficult to confront and no one will bother.

The code they would be developing was being created for long-distance communication. They generally appeared in different parts of the Colosseum, and they weren't too sure whether the shadow men could understand their speech-sometimes they were sure they could, sometimes the opposite-so they would need a basic code to make sure they could warn each other of danger and alert each other of their locations.

Jack sipped his coffee. He remembered a book he had stolen once-the writing had only been decent and the plot terrible, but he had loved one aspect of it. It had a whistling code that was simple and conveyed information fairly accurately. Most importantly of all, it was cool. Nothing really extravagant, but cool all the same.

"How about this," Jack suggested. "One whistle means yes, two means no. Three is I'm under attack, but it's not gonna kill me, and four is what's going on. Sound good?"

"How will we signal our positions if we don't need to know what the other person's situation is? How do we signal that we're in a place that would be difficult to fight in, but we're still alive and not under attack? What if one of us is injured and needs help? This code will have to convey all of that, and we will have to know how to respond to each whistle." Pitch argued.

Jack pouted. He thought the code was brilliant! "Well, if you're so smart, why don't you come up with something?"

Pitch gave him an exasperated look. "Very well, if I must do all the work around here...one whistle means yes still, but if there's not a yes or no question asked, such as if four whistles were given or there was no message at all, one whistle will also mean that the whistler is not under attack and is in a good position to fend off attackers. Two whistles in the same situation means that there are no immediate threats, but the position or situation of the whistler isn't good and the listener should stay away. Are you following?"

Jack blinked rapidly. "Sorry, spaced out for a minute. Can you repeat that last bit?"

Pitch looked to be questioning the life decision that had brought him here.

"One whistle means you're safe, just broadcasting your location. Basically, it can be an all-clear whistle. Two whistles means there's something wrong and I should stay away and wait for you, but you can handle it. It's the opposite of an all-clear whistle. Can your simplistic mind handle that much?" Pitch leaned back, looking for all the world like a college professor who hade just been made to teach a classroom of kindergarteners. Jack nodded slowly-he was pretty sure he got it. One-good. Come here. Two-bad, but not terrible. I'll be there in a minute.

"What if we're in real trouble?" Jack asked.

"Finally, a decent question! I was beginning to wonder if I wasn't better off without you. If one of us is injured, but still able to whistle and not about to die, whistle a simple tune. This should suffice." Pitch whistled a quick, jumpy five notes. The abrupt nature of the melody would cover panting or flinches in the middle of whistling, Jack noted.

"Right. And what if we're just screwed? As in, I'm-about-to-die, they-suddenly-got-stronger, run-while-you-can screwed? The kind of screwed that would mean that there's nothing anyone can do to help anymore, and the only thing the other can do is keep themselves alive?" Jack asked, hesitant to even suggest it but certain it needed to be said.

"Then whistle three times, then three times again, then three times again. The listener will know to leave you to die as quickly as possible, and will attempt to kill you on sight unless you whistle that it's safe again. We don't know if these shadow men can possess us if they catch us." Pitch stated decisively. "Now, on to the treaty."

"Wait, wait! Let me make sure I know this. There are three different whistles for bad stuff, right? Or two, I guess. Three whistles for an attack, or enemies nearby-that means that we should keep our guard up and try to find each other. Repeat that three times and it means run for your life. Two whistles means I don't like my situation, so I'll come to you. Am I right so far?" Jack asked.

Pitch looked irritated, but nodded.

"Right, then. One whistle means...yes, or I'm safe, so get over here. Four whistles means where are you and what's going on. I think that's it, right?"

Pitch nodded again. "You're correct, and this tune-" he whistled his five notes again "-means that you're injured and you need help immediately. Have you finally got it?"

Jack pouted. "Yes, I've finally got it. Maybe you'll appreciate that I'm being careful to learn this when it finally saves your life. Treaty time?"

The treaty they were going to write was a basic thing, or Jack hoped it would be, basically a contract saying that they would defend each other and not leave one another to die. Pitch would probably want to add a million clauses into it, but Jack had a job to do and he would be able to cut it down by leaving if it took too long to write this thing.

Pitch got a new piece of paper from somewhere, Jack wasn't sure where. "We should start out with a basic agreement that even you will understand, agreed?"

Jack's pout turned into a scowl. "You do realize that I'm actually fairly intelligent, right? Somehow I think you missed that memo."

Pitch gasped, looking utterly gobsmacked. "You're...intelligent? But I could have sworn you dove into a fight you weren't involved in to save a stranger from shadow men that were trying to kill you! I suppose I must have been mistaken and it really wasn't what it seemed like, then. Maybe some other hero complex was running around the Colosseum. I really am terribly sorry for having mistaken your identity."

Jack leveled his very best unimpressed look at Pitch. "Har de har har, you're hilarious. Let's just get this over with, and then I don't have to deal with your...'wit.'"

Pitch sniffed and said, "I am infinitely wittier than you can appreciate as an uncultured youngling. But since you have no hope of ever understanding how very clever I am, I suppose I will consent to helping you create this treaty. The premise, I suggest, should be that we will defend one another from shadow men and any immediate threats to our lives outside of as well as inside the Colosseum. Is that acceptable?"

By the time they broke for the evening, Pitch having to attend to night-terrors and Jack having stalled his own duties for too long, they had one agreement with about a million clauses. They had to meet at least once every two months in complete peace to negotiate any changes to the treaty, strategize, and exchange information; if they were ever fighting each other in the real world, they wouldn't allow that to change their working relationship and they would still protect one another inside the Colosseum and keep each other from dying outside of it; They would respect the whistle signals at all times and never, ever use them for pranks; they would always be able to meet each other without getting attacked inside or outside of peacetime; and, should they be having a peaceful meeting, they would not sabotage anything the other was working for while meeting or with information gathered in the meeting; a bunch of things like that. They even set up a special kind of meeting that they would have to be peaceful at no matter whether they were fighting or not.

Jack was wary of how many of the clauses were devoted to what would happen if they fought in the real world, but Pitch had assured him that it was only a matter of time until they were trying to kill each other just as much as save each other. He'd cited his job and Jack's protective instincts towards children, and Jack had known himself too well to claim that he wouldn't want to protect people from the Bogeyman. Even if fear was good for them, it still hurt and Jack didn't like it when people got hurt.

Overall, Jack was satisfied with their contract, their code, their battle strategies. Everything they'd done today had reflected their needs and personalities, and most of all it would be easy to follow every agreement he'd made today-most of it had been based on what he would likely do anyway, and the only thing he'd have any trouble with would be not killing Pitch, and indeed saving him from death should the need arise. If the Bogeyman made one more comment on Jack's intelligence, he might need to break that clause a little.

Whoops, my finger slipped. Oh well, I guess I'll send this nonsense to my beta. Oops, I accidentally made it really long, I'm sure she won't mind. Oh dear, I accidentally fell in love with this. But I won't publish it, so I won't get reviews, so I won't feel inclined to continue it.

...Oops. Oh well, I tried. This thing just wouldn't leave me alone, either, so now I'm gonna do it. This is gonna be a thing. Thanks for the read, Ig out!