Spoiler
“Excuse me.” She turned and smiled a little.
“Well, if it isn’t Jack Frost. What brings you here?”
“I’m looking for someone named Makara.” The nymph’s eyes widened a little but she nodded and pointed to the other side of the river.
“Go that way, when you find what looks like ruins you’re in the right place.”
“Thank you.” She nodded and Jack flew off in the direction the nymph had indicated. It wasn’t long before he found the ruins of what looked to be some ancient temple that was nearly entirely swallowed by the jungle, he was also sweating from the heat. Jack didn’t hesitate to wander up the broken steps onto the floor, he didn’t see anyone and after a few minutes of searching he saw a set of steps going down. He followed them. The floor beneath was a little cooler, but not by much and there wasn’t much light. Looking about though he noticed that the room was full of carvings of monsters of every sort, mostly were odd mixes of animals such as peacocks with the head of elephants or crocodiles with the antlers of a stag. Jack found all of this rather odd, he was unsteady now from the heat; his core temperature wasn’t going to stay normal for long if he wasn’t careful. He drew moisture from the air and froze it in a small circle around him to keep himself at the right temperature, unfortunately there wasn’t a lot of moisture and he knew he couldn’t do this sort of thing forever as he continued deeper into the lair of the Unseelie fae. The further he went the more carvings he saw, they were mostly the same though, it wasn’t until he stumbled that he realized just how warm he was feeling again and tried vainly to cool the air around him, but it was no use and he collapsed.
“Drink this.” A quiet voice said when he came to again, it was a reassuring voice and so Jack did as he was told. He then promptly was out once again. When he came to he found that he was laying against a patch of fur from some animal, not far away he saw what looked like a man between his twenties and thirties whose skin was a nice bronze and he wore only a loin cloth and gold bands around his hands and ankles. He also had a dazzling peacock tail trailing behind him, Jack propped himself up, watching as the man plucked a grape from a bowl that was full of them, he turned to Jack and held it out to him.
“Eat.” Jack was hesitant, he knew he didn’t really need to. The man’s green eyes flashed with understanding and he smiled a little.
“It will help you feel better.” Jack nodded his thanks and took the grape, finding it refreshingly juicy. The man was right, he did feel better for having eaten it.
“Can... can you tell Markara I’m here?” He asked after a moment.
“I am Makara.” The man replied, taking two grapes from the bowl to eat himself before going on.
“I know why you are here, what you want to ask of me. I can see past all illusion and into the hearts of anyone and everyone. There is no secret you can keep from me, I know what you know and even more than what you know. You need not ask, I will make you the scarf. I will work on it while you sleep.” Jack blinked, a little surprised that the fae had this sort of power, a little creeped out as well, but he decided it was for the best.
“I can’t sleep... I don’t think it would go well considering... well, you know.” Makara nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes, but you will rest easy this time. You need not fear nightmares of any kind.” Jack nodded a little, he was still reluctant to sleep, but found that he was starting to anyway.
“You... took care of my wounds didn’t you?” Jack asked sleepily.
“I did.” Jack let out a bit of a sigh before slipping under again. When he awoke he found that Makara was sitting several feet away at a stone table, nearby was a pitcher of water with an empty glass. Jack quickly poured himself some before downing the water greedily. He felt a lot more like himself once he’d finished a second glass and the heat around him seemed less oppressive. After a moment he sat up and then made his way to Makara who was carefully working with a paint brush against the dark navy material that Jack could only assume was a scarf. When Jack got a closer look at the scarf he realized it was Sanscrit that the other was using, the symbols were etched in a light silver.
“How long have I been asleep?” He asked after a moment.
“You will not be pleased with the answer. Two days.” Jack nearly groaned. He’d been out for two days?! He hadn’t meant to be here that long, but then again he hadn’t wagered on the heat getting to him so bad either and his wounds were almost healed now so he couldn’t complain too much.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thanks.” He put one arm around his uninjured side, the closest he was going to get to hugging himself at this point. He still felt the doubt and fears he’d felt when he’d been captive.
“Are you sure that will work? I mean, I don’t want to fear he’ll find out about the scarf and him find out.”
“Even against him, he will not know. Your fear will be safe inside you, he will not be able to read it.” Jack nodded, feeling reassured.
“I’m not bothering you am I? I don’t want to bug you while you work.”
“Not at all. I rarely get company and so it is a treat having you here.” Feeling nervous, knowing that the other would know every thought and feeling he had, perhaps even before he did, Jack picked up a grape then looked at some of the carvings around the room.
“This is how others see you, isn’t it?” He asked before eating the grape. Makara didn’t answer right away, he’d finished with the script and was now looking at Jack thoughtfully.
“You don’t see this? These great creatures around you?” Jack shook his head after taking a good look at all the beasts with their permutations and mutations, with bared teeth or snarls. He looked back at Makara, half expecting the other’s form to shift, but it didn’t.
“I guess I missed that memo.”
He was silent a moment as he glanced around at the various statues again.
“So, are you saying that you don’t get to see your true form?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Do you ever get bored? I mean, I get the sense that despite your appearance you’ve been around a long time.”
“Not any more, though I did go through that stage at some point. I discarded that scarf long ago. You must realize that we all wear scarfs for varying reasons, not just to hide fear. It is the how and the why these scarfs are removed that impacts how the world changes around you as well as how you change. You are are that there are consequences I take it.” Jack only nodded. Jack felt that Markara got the raw end of the deal in terms of Unseelie, even if he was one he was not any of the monsters that were etched into the wood and stone about him.
“What sort of payment do you require?” Jack asked after a moment.
“A simple thing, create the image of me that you see before you. You may use whatever method you like.” Jack raised an eyebrow at that, it couldn’t be that simple.
“There are rules, of course. You are not to flatter me when you do so or lie in your rendering. Although I cannot see myself as you see me now, I can fret out the intention of a lie. I will tolerate the intention, but not the act itself.”
“Can I use ice?” He knew it wouldn’t be permanent in this climate, but felt better for asking as Makara nodded. Jack promptly summoned a block of ice and set to work. He turned the unwanted ice that he sculpted off the block into frigid air about him and the block to keep it from melting too quickly as well as to relieve himself of the heat though he found it more subdued than he remembered. He worked carefully, molding the ice into the image of the man he saw before him. It was easier than he’d thought and though he was tempted to make the lanky figure that was Makara look more toned he didn’t see the point in lying and counted himself fortunate that he did not see the man as others had obviously seen him. As he worked, he wondered why many saw him the way they did, was it naivety? Fear?
“What did the last three see who came to you for scarves?” Jack asked as he worked on putting more detail into the sculpture.
“I do not know, I turned away the last three.”
“The last three?”
“The last five actually, but you asked for the last three. The last who visited me was a Pond Spirit you know well.” Jack’s jaw dropped a little. Cahal had come here for a scarf?
“Why? What is he hiding? You know don’t you?”
“Yes, but I will not say. I do not reveal what is hidden to others. You could say I am the best secret keeper.” Jack stood up when he was finished.
“You can look now. I’ve finished.” Makara turned to the ice sculpture, he was too ancient to show any physical sign of being surprised, but the fact that he stilled suddenly let Jack know that he was indeed shocked to see what Jack saw. Jack looked at it a moment and poured more magic into the sculpture so that it began to move suddenly on its own, mimicking the silent, confident movements of the real Makara who seemed to watch in pure wonder.
“You see me as beautiful...” The words were almost a whisper as he watched the ice sculpture of himself walk towards him and then wander about the place. Makara smiled in pure delight as the figure seemed to walk over to study the scarf he’d finished before shifting about towards the other carvings. He sighed.
“Would fate only let me look like this.”
“Well... since you don’t know for sure couldn’t you just... you know, choose how you see yourself?” Makara shook his head.
“As the majority of those who see me show me these... monsters, I expect that - alas - you are not correct. Now that I have seen this, you have perhaps spoiled me for now I find I am uncommonly vain.” Makara’s eyes never left the ice version of himself, as if trying to sear every movement, every moment into his memory.
“Well, the majority of those who can see me think I’m just an upstart child, but you have treated me like an adult since I got here. I couldn’t very well believe that though if I went with the crowd, could I? So I reckon that since you aren’t likely to find out the truth anytime soon you should just stick with what you like.” Makara watched the ice sculpture a moment longer before speaking with a nod.
“You can release it now.” When Jack did, the sculpture ceased moving and the heat around it began melting the sculpture instantly. In a matter of moments the sculpture was nothing but a puddle on the floor and that too would quickly disappear.
“Now then, I have finished, come here. For the magic to work, I must tie it the first time.” Jack grimaced at that. He didn’t want anyone else touching him, but as he considered it he realized that Makara had already done so when he’d dressed his wounds. Even so, he couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him. Jack looked at the scarf, it was completely covered in the Sanskrit, when not a bit of it smeared he realized that it must dry quickly. Swallowing against the fear that was welling up in him from memories he didn’t want, he did as he was told and approached Makara. The fae knelt before him and Jack felt his breath hitch.
“You will need to lift up your sweatshirt for me.” Jack trembled a little, but did as he was told and Makara calmly reached around him and tied the scarf gently, mindful of Jack’s wound, making sure that it wasn’t too tight nor rested anywhere that would cause pain.
“There now.” Jack looked at the scarf as Makara’s hands fell away before he slid his sweatshirt over the material. It was unbelievably soft, it reminded Jack of the sheets on Pitch’s bed in his lair and the thought was instantly soothing; calming his fears and Jack slid the material of the sweatshirt over the scarf, effectively hiding it. He had to admit that it didn’t seem like a magical item, it seemed like just any other scarf, but he knew better. Makara stepped back to watch Jack, a slight smile on his features.
“They see you as a child because of your openness. A quality that is exceedingly rare by the time most reach the physical age your appearance speaks of.” Jack stared, he’d hoped to find someone who would talk to him like this. Pitch had come close, but the relationship was still so knew, they still had so much to learn of each other; Jack had no illusions that his captivity would make advancing the relationship that much harder for them both. Makara’s ability to see into his mind was a marvel really, a relief in a way because Makara didn’t reject him for whatever sins he had committed that had resulted in his loneliness. He didn’t find the ability at all invasive, like others might. Makara seemed pleased, his eyes sparkling.
“You like me.”
“Um....” Jack wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“Not many people like me.”
“Why not? You dressed my wounds, gave me food and water. A scarf... seriously, what are you doing to others who visit?”
“I do nothing different. I offer food because it is nourishing, but most people cannot see past what they see of me. Then they begin lying, I don’t mind that they lie to themselves, but I cannot abide someone who lies to me. I cannot tolerate this.” Though Makara’s tone was nothing but calm, Jack had the feeling that lying to him would be a very bad thing indeed.
“Would you like to be friends? To visit me again?” Jack nodded.
“I’d like that. Hopefully next time it will be a little cooler so I don’t pass out on you.” Makara smiled at that.
“Before you leave, I feel that you need know some things. First off, even though you have spoken the words, you love this man more than you are willing to tell even yourself. More than you have let yourself love anyone. Secondly, you may soon learn yourself how to move through spaces; listen to the wind, it can teach you in time.” Jack nodded, he had all the time in the world.
“Now, I can send you to North’s Workshop, is that what you desire?” Jack nodded, steeling himself because he knew he’d have to face the others. The one he feared facing the most though wasn’t the other Guardians, but Pitch. He held no illusion that Pitch would be pleased with him. Makara didn’t move, didn’t touch him or make any sort of sign that he was doing anything to teleport Jack. The jungle temple around him dissolved and he found himself back in North’s Workshop. He was standing before the globe, none of the elves that wandered around him seemed to notice he’d just appeared out of thin air. For a moment, Jack felt a spike of fear that Pitch would be able to sense him and his fear and suddenly appear, but when that didn’t happen Jack relaxed. He sighed a little and wondered if anyone had actually noticed his absence, he didn’t have long to wait to find out when he turned a corner and saw that Bunny was pouring over a book, which was odd for the Pooka. Bunny jerked and turned to him immediately a smile blossomed over the rabbit’s face.
“Jack! Where you been mate!? Blimey you had us all worried!” He said as he hopped over to him and ruffled his hair.
“Sorry, I just needed to clear my head and sort a few things out.” He said with a bit of a sheepish smile.
“Next time leave a note or somethin’. You had us all right worried.” Jack winced a little at the sad concern on his friend’s face. Cahal was right, he was a liability. He felt his heart sink but he tried to give Bunny a reassuring smile nonetheless.
“Since when do you worry rabbit?” He asked, attempting a joke like he knew he normally would. Bunny sat back a little, he seemed confused for a moment before he smiled a little ruefully at Jack. He knew the Pooka knew something was up.
“Jack!” He turned at the sound of his name and saw that Tooth was hovering nearby, she looked like she wanted to fly over and hug him, but she didn’t. He could see the concern written all over her face.
“Hey Tooth. I’d say go ahead and hug me, but I don’t think my wound has completely healed yet.” Oops. He shouldn’t have said that and winced at the worry that flickered on the fairy’s face. He’d forgotten that Pitch hadn’t let anyone near him so they didn’t know.
“Look, it’s nothing serious, I’m okay. I’m all bandaged and it should be gone soon enough. Besides, we have more serious things to worry about.” He said, trying to shift the topic off himself.
“True enough mate, though be honest haven’t heard a peep out of the varmint since you went missin’ at the battle.” He watched as Bunny fiddled with what looked like a Christmas ornament that was painted to look like an Easter egg. A floating screen popped up showing North.
“Bunny, what news?”
“Kid’s safe and sound here North. Donno where he was, but Jack’s here. I’ll pass the word on to Sandy.”
“My thanks Bunny, will see you back at pole.” The screen disappeared and a second popped up, Jack watched with fascination as this time the screen showed Sandy, who looked worried and a little tired.
“I just talked to North, Jack’s back safe an’ sound mate. You look tired, take a rest ‘ay?” Sandy responded with a tired smile and the screen vanished again.
“What is that?” Jack asked, pointing to the round device as Bunny stowed it into a small pouch on the sash he wore.
“Communicator. North made ‘em so we can keep in touch.”
“He had one made for us all, even you Jack.” Tooth said. Jack shifted a little uncomfortably all of the sudden when he realized Pitch hadn’t appeared.
“Ah... where’s Pitch?” Bunny and Tooth shared a surprised look that became a little uneasy.
“Last I knew he was in his room mate.... haven’t seen him since you disappeared from it.” Jack nodded a little, taking a breath.
“I shouldn’t put this off.” Tooth looked at him a moment then smiled, she laid a hand on his shoulder and Jack was glad that the simple touch didn’t invoke painful memories.
“You’ve grown so much... Jack, you know I’m here if you need to talk about... about it.” Jack nodded, he didn’t want to get into this now. Perhaps he’d manage it later, but first.
“Thanks Tooth.” She dropped her hand and he headed off towards where he knew Pitch’s room was. He felt his heart stutter in his chest the closer he got, fear seizing him by the throat, but he knew the scarf was working simply by the fact that the boogeyman didn’t make an appearance. He slowly turned the handle and stepped into the room, his gaze shifting. He said nothing at first as he saw that Pitch was staring out the window, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were shut though, his head tilted up towards the moon despite the scowl on his face. At that moment, Jack wondered that he seemed so... upset wasn’t right the right word.
“Pitch?” The name passed his lips, almost a quiet whisper but at the sound of it the shade’s eyes snapped open and he turned to see Jack standing there. Jack wasn’t sure what to expect of the boogeyman, the other just stared at him like he was a dream that would be whisked away with the rays of the sun. Jack took a couple steps forward, he barely noticed the door shutting quietly close behind him; he felt both fear and joy surging through him, he hadn’t realized until this moment just how much he’d missed Pitch. Markara was right. Jack wanted nothing more than for the other to take him in his arms and tell him that everything would be alright, but at the same time he feared the other would do so and that he’d find himself sickened by the memories of his time as captive. What was worse, though, was the uneasy feeling he had now that he was staring into the eyes of the man he loved and the other wasn’t doing anything. He didn’t step towards Jack, but he did seem to be taking all of Jack in, as if assessing if he was real and whole. As if coming to a decision, he moved over to Jack, one finger lightly caressing his lips and Jack’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he soaked in this new sensation.
“Jack.” The sound of his name on a sigh sent a shiver of pure pleasure through him and Jack felt the urge to throw his arms around Pitch, but he didn’t move. His eyes opened again when Pitch made no other move to touch him and the finger that had been lightly caressing his lips dropped back to his side.
“Oh Jack... what has he done to you?” Jack felt like he was about to cry, the sadness he saw in those golden orbs almost undid him, but he managed not to. He’d cried enough during his torture and he didn’t want Pitch to pity him. Pitch lightly cupped his face with one hand and Jack flinched back, the ghost touch was strong and seeing the look Jack was giving him, the shade took a step back.
“I’m sorry Jack.” The words were so soft that Jack thought for a moment he’d imagined them.
“I should have known... I should have...” Jack watched as Pitch clenched his fists, outrage and horror that flitted across the carefully schooled features.
“Pitch.” Jack said after a moment.
“No... I knew how Cahal was...”
“You did warn me.” Jack said, trying to soothe, but the shade only turned from him to pace. He didn’t try and touch Jack again. It seemed that the boogeyman was in a right mood. Before, Jack would have tried to distract him the only way he knew now, but now he shuddered to even think of such a thing thanks to the Pond Spirit. It didn’t take away from his want though, that he longed to calm and soothe his lover who stopped after a moment. Jerking to look back towards the widow, his voice was quiet, but even so Jack thought he heard a tremor in it.
“Maybe it’s for the best.”
“What?” Pitch turned, his face was blank now.
“I don’t belong here. I don’t deserve you.”
“Wha- Pitch no!” Jack lurched towards him, but the boogeyman easily evaded him.
“Take care Jack. This isn’t over.” Before Jack could think to say anything Pitch was gone.
“Pitch? Pitch!!!” He cried, but he was alone in the room. It came crashing down on him all at once, unable to stop it he fell to his knees silently wailing into the night, tears falling to the floor as sobs racked his body and there was no comfort to be had.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Pitch grimaced at the sound of his name on the boy’s lips. It twisted something deep inside of him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand up to the Guardians, but he also knew that what they’d had... it had been destroyed. He clenched his hands, he would make that Pond Spirit wish he’d never been born! He transported himself from outside the door of his previous room to a room he knew wasn’t in use at the workshop currently. It held fabric that was used to make clothes, something that North didn’t do too often. He paced in the room, his vision blurring and he angrily wiped at his eyes to clear them; the warm liquid was foreign to him for a moment before he realized what it was. Tears. He felt the overwhelming pressure and so he simply sat down and close his eyes, letting the tears that welled up inside of him pour out. He didn’t make a single sound, but he knew he needed this purging if he was going to strike back at Cahal. He decided that if he was going to do this, then he would need to consort with some old “friends” of his among the Unseelie court. He didn’t relish this, but he knew he’d no other option at this point and drew the shadows around him to leave the workshop despite that what he really wanted to instead was to return to Jack and sweep him into his arms, kissing him senseless and showing him that Jack was the one light in his heart, his life and always would be. Since the Shadows had taken him, used him, corrupted him, there had been no one to make life worth living; he had not even been able to reclaim consciousness until he had first seen Jack as a boy, when he’d been alive. A boy who protected his sister, who overcame his fears and who didn’t fear the presence of the boogeyman. It had been such a fleeting encounter, a matter of days really, but even after that the Nightmare King had kept an eye on the boy who had floated in his death slumber beneath the ice. He had kept the boy company, though the dead were not really company; when the boy had awaken as the frost spirit he was, Pitch had been there. Watching and waiting for the boy to notice him, to remember, but the Man in the Moon had been cruel and had stolen the boy’s memories in the fleeting moments it had taken to transfer power into the young boy. Pitch had seen only glimpses of him, of the boy he’d come to know, during those 300 years. It had been a shock, for sure, to see him with the Guardians and he’d felt a pang in his heart when he’d been rejected at the pole by Jack despite that he’d dropped his guard. From that point on he’d found it hard to hate Jack, even though he’d sided with his enemies; there was just something that Pitch had always felt that there was a connection between them, they had a shared past, in a way. He hadn’t meant to hurt Jack, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew that Jack wouldn’t understand this side of him. The darker side that thirsted for revenge, that felt a twisted pleasure in torturing the Pond Spirit until he snapped, and then tearing him apart limb by limb until even his fae abilities could no longer keep him alive. The thought of it made Pitch shiver with anticipation that he hadn’t felt since before crash landing on this planet. It was something he hadn’t been able to do to humans, but fae... they were a different story. He was going to relish this.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When the sun rose the next day, Jack didn’t see it, didn’t notice it as he twirled his staff among the fae as he sparred with them. He was beginning to feel exhausted, but he didn’t stop as they charged him time and time again, the wooden training swords they used rapping against his staff as he held them off. A puff of icy breadth escaped his lips as he missed and was smacked against his wounded side, of course now it was only a bruise, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. He ignored the sting of it, for what was the sting of a blow by wood compared the to the empty hollowness in his heart? He let out a grunt when he missed again but he continued the drill, he’d told the fae soldiers to not go easy on him and they weren’t. When he dropped to his knees, however, they all backed off immediately and Gywn moved to help him up.
“Don’t.” He gritted out, causing the light element fae to stop before him. The fae scowled.
“You can’t expect us to keep going when you’re like this. We’re not your enemies.” Jack panted a little through the pain, but once he worked through it he spoke.
“I know, but I need this.” Gwyn frowned as Jack pushed himself up again and once more took a fighting stance, he fought the urge to simply drop to the snow covered ground and curl up. He wanted so badly to do so, to die, but he knew he couldn’t die and knew he had to push on whether or not he liked it. This was the only thing that seemed to work, for now. He could feel exhaustion start to seep into him, the other fae glanced to their commander who shook his head.
“Get some sleep Frost. We’re done here. You’re going to be no good if you’re asleep on your feet.”
“I’m not-” He began to protest until Gwyn walked over to him and gave him a light shove, it wasn’t enough to hurt, but it did cause him to stumble badly.
“You can barely stand. Get some rest. No argument.” He waved a hand towards his men, the group dispersed to go back to drills, leaving Jack to sag against his staff. He knew Gwyn was right, but he didn’t want to sleep because he knew he’d have nightmares. Feeling wrung out, he flew back to the workshop, knowing that the other fae wouldn’t dare go against their general and Gywn wasn’t going to have anything to do with him either. He sighed, feeling just as empty as ever as he alighted on the balcony of the room that had been Pitch’s. It felt like Pitch and for him, it felt like home in a way... He let out a long sigh and set down on the bed, he leaned his head up against the wall; too numb for tears anymore and too tired to drag up the energy to talk to anyone. He’d been avoiding the Guardians and they’d given him his space the last few days.
He didn’t hear the door slip open or the Pooka who came in.
“You okay mate?” Jack turned his head slightly and suppressed a sigh.
“No. I’m not okay, but neither are you. No one is with this war, but we get along fine because that’s what we do, isn’t it?”
“Jack... can we talk?” Jack didn’t say anything and Bunnymund moved inside the door. Jack shifted when he got close, a stubborn glint in his eyes as he smacked his staff to the ground. A warning if Bunny ever saw one.
“I’m tired from training.” Bunnymund narrowed his eyes at this.
“You? Training? I’m sorry, is there another Jack Frost here?” Jack stared at Bunny a moment in surprise as the Pooka stood tall, ears up, alert as always. Jack shook his head and gave the other Guardian a rueful smile.
“Look at us, the Guardian of Hope and the Guardian of Fun. Apparently I don’t know what’s really happening anymore. I’m not handling this well, but I’m handling it. I am not a child, I don’t need to be coddled.”
“Coulda fooled me mate. Look... I know from Pitch what that Cahal is like...” Jack shot him a look that made the Pooka want to clam up, but he continued on.
“Honest. He wouldn’t shut up about it.... Tooth and I did our best to calm the bloke down but blimey mate... He wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t sit still the whole time... North woulda kicked him out if he wasn’t wearing a hole in the Workshop over you.” Jack’s eyes widened for a moment before he looked away.
“I don’t know why he bothered.... he’s gone now. He said it was for the best....” Bunny didn’t hesitate to move to sit next to Jack’s side when he heard the boy’s voice falter.
“Maybe he thinks so mate... but I wager he doesn’t want to. He knows better than any of us what you went through and I wager the guilt is lain thick on ‘im. Ya only been close for a short time mate and he meant to protect ya... even if ya don’t rightly need it. Give ‘im a chance to sort this out. I wager he’ll be back when he’s ready. Blimey... never thought I’d look forward to the day I’d see that one again, especially here of all places.” Jack turned to meet the Pooka’s green eyes, hope flaring from somewhere deep in his heart.
“Do... do you really think... ?” Bunny put a hand on his shoulder, he could tell that Jack really needed this.
“I’d stake my reputation on it mate.” Jack was shocked, but at the same time he sagged in relief.
“Thanks, Bunny.... for everything.” Bunnymund smiled.
“It’s what I’m here for mate. I know you’re going through some things I ain’t never like to understand, but don’t forget your mates are here ta help if ya need it.” Jack nodded and Bunny stood up.
“I’d better give North a hand, he’s working on a little project he wants all of us to help with... erm, well you can stay here though. He has all the help... I mean... crickey, North’s gonna have my hide for even mentionin’ it.” Before Jack could ask more, the Pooka had disappeared out the door in a right hurry as if a Nightmare was hot on his heels.
