Monsoon [one] Jack Frost and Pitch BlackMore Like This
Jack stared out at the barren wasteland of snow and ice and winter’s coldness. His heart ached and felt so much more numbness than it had despite the snow. He thought of the friends he could have had, the time they could have shared together; him, Tooth, North, Bunnymund; the Yeti's, the Elves, even if he'd chosen differently, Pitch, perhaps.
He laughed inwardly at the thought. Chosen differently? The grey skinned man smiling down at him from his dungeon of darkness, full of shadows and Nightmares, where Jack would undoubtedly stay, since the children would fear him, and the Guardian would hate him. He thought of the way the elegant man moved, his shadow carrying him across rooms and worlds like the wind carried Jack. He thought of Pitch’s eyes, the golden-grey of haunted hatred.
Jack frowned. He wondered what it would have been like to be feared. The children would hate him, he thought again. Of course they would. His frown deepe
Monsoon [two] Jack Frost and Pitch BlackMore Like This
"It must be your fear they smell."
Pitch took off, skidding and sliding across slippery ice and down muddy banks to get away from the Nightmares. He was frightened, but it was worth it, if only to see Frost once more. He pushed the thought away as the Nightmares caught up to him, dragging him down, down, down. His last happy thought, he didn’t want them to take it from him, so maybe if he cast it away now, he could call upon it if he really needed it—if he really needed to feel Jack once more.
Jack watched longingly, a piece of his heart falling away into the darkness that Pitch was plunged into, followed closely by the creatures of haunted dreams. He knew Pitch would have to overcome his own fear before he would be seen again. For now, children’s dreams were safe and far from the reaches of the Boogeyman.
The Guardian’s cheered happily—their mission had been a success, they had gotten rid of Pitch Black, for now