Miles To Go Before I Sleep

In Which There Is Cake

 In Which there is Cake

...

"I'm sorry, I must be hearing things because there is no way you just said what I thought you said."

Mother Nature tilted her head as she looked up at the youngest of her 'children', one brow raised. She didn't speak any words, but her expression alone was enough to convey her point.

"What? But- No- How- What?!" Jack gaped at her. This could not be happening. It was too… weird. And uncomfortable. And weird.

"It's true," Mother Nature confirmed, turning away from him and returning her attention to her gardening – exactly as he'd found her when he'd arrived. "But we're getting away from the point now."

Jack blinked, forcing his mind to go back to the actual point of this conversation. "Look, you don't have anything to apologise for," he told her. "It wasn't you, after all. Besides, if it hadn't been for that whole 'incident' then things would be very different for me. And not in a good way."

Mother Nature sighed, letting her hands fall into her lap. "I know, and yet somehow part of me cannot help but feel as though I am obligated to take part of the blame for what has happened, at the very least I feel partly responsible. And while I agree with you that previous events have indeed turned out for the best, that does not change the fact that further problems – while resolved – did arise."

"I was hoping to be able to change that," Jack admitted, feeling inexplicably foolish. "He can't be all bad, right?"

"No," Mother Nature agreed, rising to her feet to face him. "He was a good man once, very different to the one he is now. He is not solely to blame for all that has happened."

"So you think… that there's a chance? I mean, that I can try to… I don't know, help him?"

"There is no way that I know of to restore him to the way he once was," Mother Nature said sadly. "Nor can I guarantee that you will succeed; I do not know him now like I did then. But perhaps you who has known at least some of what he feels can get through to him – not make him wholly good, as we both know is impossible, but maybe less evil." She placed a delicate hand on Jack's shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. "Promise me, Jack, that you will at least try. He may not be Kozmotis Pitchiner as I remember him, but he is still my father."

Jack tried not to snort at the name, sobered by the seriousness of their conversation. "I promise."

"Good," suddenly her whole demeanour changed. She stood to her full height, more relaxed and hardly as serious. "Would you like to come in for some cake?" she offered, gesturing to her home which stood not ten metres away. "Some of the sprites made it for me but I could hardly eat it all myself."

...

...

"Piiiiiiiitch?" Jack called, his voice echoing through the cavern-like room. He got no answer for his efforts, not even a Nightmare to chase him out. "Heeeeey?! Pitch?!"

When he still received no response, Jack shrugged and resorting to searching the creepy place one shadow at a time. The Nightmare King had to be around here somewhere. He let a smirk creep onto his face and stopped in front of the Globe of Belief.

"Pitchy-witchy~ I know you know I'm heeere~"

Something cold pressed against his neck.

"Call me that again and I will not hesitate to silence you permanently," Pitch's seething voice said from behind him.

Jack was instantly on high alert, knocking the scythe pressed against his neck away with his staff and swinging around to face the older spirit.

"What would you prefer?" he asked slyly, his mouth ignoring his brain's protests that this was probably a really stupid thing to say. His body, however, did have some common sense and stayed on the defensive. "I could call you Kozzy?"

Pitch's eyes narrowed. "That is not my name," he said darkly, his anger clearly rising.

"How about grandpa, then?"

Whatever seething retort Pitch had been about to utter slipped away from him, his jaw going slack as he looked down at Jack as though he was insane. "What?"

"You heard me."

The Boogieman made a noise that could have been anything from a growl to a sigh and, turning away, pressed a hand to his forehead. "If you have come to antagonise me I will happily return the favour in a much more violent way," he said, the threat clear in his tone. As if to back up his words, several Nightmares appeared from the shadows.

"Actually, I came to ask if you wanted some cake," Jack smiled, holding up a foil-wrapped package.

Pitch stared as if trying to figure out whether or not the winter spirit was being serious.

"Mother was very insistent that I take some for the road but I'm not going to need to eat again for at least a week and a half after the amount she practically forced down my throat. It'll probably go bad by then, soooo…."

Pitch abruptly turned away and stalked towards the shadows. "I thought I made it clear that you are not welcome here. And we are not in any way friends," he spat.

"The yetis made it clear I wasn't welcome at the Pole all those times I tried to break in but that didn't stop me. If they couldn't keep me away, do you really think you can?" The unspoken 'and I'm friends with them now' was ignored.

"The fur balls are likely far less inclined to slice you in half. Have you no sense of self-preservation?"

"Probably," Jack shrugged. "And we don't have to be friends. We are family, after all. In a weird, somewhat creepy, messed up way. So do you want the cake or not?"

If Jack were to take a guess at what Pitch was thinking merely from the expression on his face, it would be that he was mentally murdering him over and over. How pleasant.

"I'm not in the mood to deal with you," Pitch growled. He snapped his attention to some of the Nightmares. "Escort him out!"

Jack's eyes widened as the herd charged towards him, making no effort to be gentle as they bit at him and tried to drag him over to the entrance of the lair.

"Whoa, whoa," Jack protested, pulling away from them. "I can walk." He was ignored.

Jack rolled his eyes with a sigh as he was promptly chased back to the surface, not bothering to freeze any of the horses or fight back; that wouldn't leave a very good impression on the guy he was trying to get on better terms with.

"There, I'm out, happy now?" he asked the Nightmare that followed him above ground.

The Nightmare snorted, pawing at the dirt. Then, without warning, it snatched the cake from Jack's hand and disappeared back into the dark recesses of the Pitch's lair. Jack couldn't restrain the snicker that escaped him as he called for the wind to pick him up.

"If you wanted the cake you could have just said so," he pointed out, not caring that the Boogieman probably couldn't hear him. "Remind me to bring more next time we come," he told the wind, letting it carry him home. "Maybe bribery is the key. We could do that thing – the psychological one; umm… conditioning or something."

The wind tussled his hair in a way that felt like laughter and reassurance all in one as it carried him across the sky.

"I wonder if I could condition the others…"