When the World Falls Down

Chapter 1

Tooth's got a cigarette between her fingers, lit up. She breathes out little puffs of smoke, watching the toxic air dissipate and disappear. She knows it's bad for her teeth, but then she gets that adrenaline rush, finally feels like she's flying again, and she decides that she doesn't care.

Sandy's passed out, a bottle of pills in his hand. He woke up an hour ago, went through the same routine. Eat, sleep, take more pills. It's unhealthy, and one day he's not going to wake up from his drug induced sleep, but he's six feet under, in blissful dreamless sleep, and he finds himself waiting for the day when he doesn't wake up. That is, when he's awake.

North's snoring, passed out on the couch. He's got a bottle slipping from his hand, his sixth that night, and there would have been more had someone not put him to sleep. He sees his comrades around the room, his family, in the states their in, and thinks he's failed. But then he takes a few more drinks, a few more shots, and he doesn't care anymore, because it's all lost in the fog.

Bunny's slumped down, looking at the world with half-lidded, dull eyes. He's got a wad in his mouth that he's chewing, and it gives him that high, that wonderful, wonderful high that reminds him so much of hope before reality crashes down. The high's the only thing he's gonna get, because the world's hope is gone, and he doesn't care enough to restore it.

Jack's in the corner, covered in white powder that has nothing to do with his job as a winter spirit. He'll get jittery every now and then, then inhale some of he white powder, his precious 'snowflakes'. He's muttering, taking to the walls, to the voices in his head, to nothing, to the wind that for once isn't there. He sings songs to himself, little old lullabies and nursery rhymes. Anything to fill the silence. He's had three hundred years of silence, and he can't take it anymore. So, he plays a game, like he always does, because that has fixed all his problems before, it'll fix this one, right? He plays a lonely game all by himself, a fun little game, seeing how fast he can get lost in the echo.

And Pitch? Pitch lurks in the shadows, watching them from afar, knowing that he caused this, that he's to blame. Guilt gnaws at his insides, because, in a room full of broken guardians, he's the only one who cares.