My Sister's a Guardian (RotG Fanfiction)

Chapter 54: The Breaking

(Content/trigger warnings for this chapter: anxiety)

**Isabelle**

I watched Ranya stumble back into the forest. The remaining three of us stood in silence.

I wanted to go with her. I wanted to protect her with my shields, and stop Pitch and the Watcher and everyone else and free the Guardians and, especially, my family.

But fear kept me chained to my spot. No matter how hard I tried to move my legs, or cry out to wait, my body stood rigid like solid metal. Fears, of being paralyzed or kidnapped or, mostly, dying, pounded in my head. Pitch might kill me if I tried to help.

I strove to will my mouth to open only a little, or to take one shuffling step forward, but my anxiety knew what those would lead to, so it shut any possibility of them down. I willed myself to just shift my weight as if about to move, and I pushed and pushed against the thoughts in my head, but that, too, failed.

"Come on, Isabelle," said Jamie. "Let's get back to the house. It's more defensible there."

As I turned to follow the Bennetts back to their home, the whispering wind, rustling of leaves, and snaps of our footsteps cut out. I could no longer feel the ground under me. My sight went black.

When it returned, my feet hit cold stone. The scrapes on my soles and toes burned with grime. A dank, musty smell slithered through the place. Around me stretched Pitch's lair and all its shifting shadows and winding stairs and pathways. I stood near the bottom of the cavern.

Fear Angels crouched around me. My heart pounded so hard I would've shaken if I could move.

A couple of the beings rubbed others' backs as they looked down. One pair looked like they were hugging. Another Fear Angel simply patted another's shoulder as it shook.

And a barrage of emotions hit me. My chest ached, and a subtle fear different from my overwhelming terror quivered beneath my skin.

We're not enough, a scratchy voice sounded in my mind.

We need to expend more effort.

I have to think of something different.

Isn't there a way? There has to be... right?

We require better, more fantastic gifts.

More thoughts bounced around, overlapping each other. A tug of emotion came with each syllable.

Not mine. These feelings and thoughts were not mine.

Then it stopped. The skeletal beings vanished. The meager light from the hole above dimmed and shifted to a bluish color. In front of me, Pitch appeared, and I nearly shrieked. My heart pounded so hard it hurt.

He turned in my direction. It was nearly like he could see me.

Then he closed his eyes and held out his hands facing each other. He pulled shadows from the air and created, feeding into it, a large black ball hovering between his palms. I could see every slight wisp entering it, and there were many. His beaming emotions bubbled and lit in my chest until it was nearly full to bursting.

The vision shifted again, though it stayed in the cavern. But everything began speeding up.

Small groups of Fear Angels dotted the area, and Pitch resumed his place in the center, pulling darkness from the air again. His bubbling in my chest jittered to my arms and legs. Little bursts compounded onto that. The Fear Angels were also eager.