Christmas lends time to spend with family, and of course watching Christmas specials and what not. This Christmas we broke out The Rise of the Guardians for the boys to watch. Now I’ve seen this a few times before, and it’s niggled at me that Pitch always struck me as being in need of some love and guidance. Jason and I got to talking about the movie as we often do when I start espousing what I’d love to see happen with a given character I latch onto!
So, for Christmas, he wrote me a little something special, and of course I want to share it with you!
Takes place at the end of the movie, Rise of the Guardians. Pitch has been left to his own devices for too long, and the Guardians have decided to change tactics on how to deal with him. A light in the Dark
It was cold in here, cold and dark... which normally Pitch didn't mind so much, except that it was also lonely. He'd gotten used to it before, but that was when he had just been biding his time, planning his plans and waiting until all opportunities aligned themselves. He'd been mastering the art of the Dream Sand that he commanded as an aspect of Dream, the Nightmare King.
He had discovered, that with it, he could turn the strongest of the Guardian’s powers against them, removing The Sandman from the equation while also bolstering his fearling army with a veritable swarm of recruits. He had won. There was only a single little boy between him and finally ridding himself of the Man In The Moon's bothersome Guardians.
He was going to return to controlling this world through fear, he was going to be believed in, seen again... but he had his win ripped from him in the hour of his triumph. The problem when all your power was based in fear, was when you came across a creature powerful in dream, like a child, who did not fear you.
One boy was all it had taken to turn his victory into ash in his mouth. Now here he sat again, alone and unseen. He was still locked in his reverie of times before when he had been so full of power and belief that he had ridden across the stars at will, so he did not see he had a visitor until North was upon him.
Pitch jumped, taking a step back with a guarded look. The spirit often referred to as 'Santa Claus' had his swords upon his hips, but he did not move to draw them.
The Boogeyman glared, "Why are you here... come to gloat?" he bared his teeth, "I'll have you know that setback before doesn't mean I'm powerless; you must have a death wish coming here..."
Santa held up a hand, waving off his suggestion, "Nonsense; I come here to let you know that we Guardians have been discussing you and your part on this world. I and Sandy mostly. We think that sitting around waiting for you to hatch another nefarious scheme to ruin the world probably isn't in our best interest, so have decided on more aggressive approach."
Pitch balled his fists, "So you are here to fight...!"
Once again, North shook his head, "No, no, no... aggressive, as in rehabilitation. You were like us before you became the way you are, and as the Guardians of hope, we would be remiss not to think there was also hope for you."
Black dropped his hands by his sides, his face a picture of disbelief, "What?" After a few moments he began to chuckle, then eventually his mirth grew into laughter until he was unable to stop for a while, his loud laughs echoing through the tunnels of his underground home.
North frowned at him, "Is it really so hard for you to try another way? I understand how far you've come to be what you are now, believe me, but there is always choice..." his frown grew a bit worried, "...have you perhaps forgotten who you were before? We all sense that you are old, maybe older than Man In Moon... but you have not forgotten have you?"
Pitch stopped laughing and gave the big man a cold look, "I am and have always been the Nightmare King."
Claus studied him, scratching absently at his bushy white beard as he did so, "No... I think you can, but something doesn't let you."
Black bared his teeth at him again, "And what would you know if it?"
North smiled, giving his stomach a hearty pat with both hands, "I feel it... in my belly."
The Boogeyman simply stared at him for a moment, then rolled his eyes, "I would be doing this world a favor by killing you..." attempting to use the element of surprise, Pitch summoned an enormous scythe made of living shadow and swung it at North.
The big but nonetheless agile man nimbly ducked to avoid the blow, charging forward and underneath to wrap his powerful hands around each of Pitch's biceps. From there he simply stood up, lifting the smaller spirit bodily from the ground. With his arms pinned to his sides Black's magical scythe faded away, and Claus took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, "That is strike one. I come here to help us but also to help you... but don't think I won't put you on Naughty List."
With that he tucked pitch under his arm as if he were carrying a log and pulled a colorful glass ball from his pocket. He threw the ball and the air shimmered, a portal to another place opening in front of them in a rush of air, shimmering colors and distorted reality.
Pitch tried to meld with the nearby shadows (there were and abundance of such, of course, that was why he made his lair in such a place) but the fact that North had his arm wrapped around him prevented him from doing so.
Apparently the saint's light was strong enough to quell his diminished powers.
He kicked and struggled in the more conventional sense once he realized this, but to no avail; North was a physical monster, and there would be no breaking his grip.
He didn't get much time to think on this before they had arrived at their destination. Pitch blinked at the brightness of the place, with its golden rails, high, multi-storied ceilings, and all of the brightly colored objects of every imaginable type stacked in cluttered heaps everywhere.
Pitch scowled; he was back in North's private little kingdom: the North Pole. "Why are we here?" he asked, trying his best to look dignified from his position under North's arm and failing.
Claus smiled down at him, "It is too dark, gloomy, and lonely in that hole in the ground you were in, so now you live here with me where we can keep eyes on you and monitor your progress."
Black still wore the scowl, "You mean, imprison me. After all, I'm only here because you basically kidnapped me. I don't want to be here, and if you try to make me stay, you're going to wish you had never thought to bring me here."
North laughed loudly as if Black had made a joke and dumped him on the floor. His bright eyes followed the darkly clad spirit as he clambered quickly to his feet, "You and Jack with the 'kidnapping'. While it's true that I cannot allow you to leave the Pole during your stay, you are welcome to peruse the many areas of my realm freely when you are not working."
Pitch scoffed at him, "You're adding forced labor to the bill; honestly North I didn't think you had it in you. You are obviously insane if you think I'm going to paint toys in here like one of your little elves."
Santa rubbed at his belly as he skirted that issue distractedly, "Actually it would be more like one of my yetis but semantics aren't important, what is important is that you ruined much of our work so it's only right that you work to give back. See? Rehabilitation."
Pitch was glowering at him now. This wasn't funny anymore and the fat man's hubris in thinking he would allow himself to become his puppet was starting to annoy him. He moved close to Claus and rose to his full height (which was still a good head taller than North, but he didn't let that stop him), sticking his chest out as he gave Santa his most menacing look as he snarled, "Exactly how are you going to force my compliance? Because, as you might know, I don't care if you fill my stocking with coal on Christmas."
North glared back, "Strike two." He showed Pitch the tattoo on his arm that read 'Naughty', tapping it with his index finger, "You talk to me like this one more time and you make 'Naughty List'. I talk to Sandy for hours on how to approach you, and we decided that if we are going to bring you in, we are going to have to treat you like one of our own."
Black shrugged apathetically at his words, "But I'm not one of you. I predate you by centuries and I have no desire to lower myself to your level. You're just tools to the Man In The Moon, and even he has always hid from my glory. Add me to your 'List' fat man, see what I care."
Santa stared at him a moment and then pulled a strand of something from his pocket. Pitch backed away warily, and he had cause to be suspicious, because the item was a familiar golden glowing substance. He moved to step further way but North suddenly flicked his wrist and the strand elongated, whipping out to wrap itself around his wrist.
Pitch glanced down and saw that it had settled itself upon him as a band. He tugged at it immediately but it wouldn't budge, "What is this? What have you done?"
North pointed at the band, "A gift from Sandy. You won't be able to take it off while we're here in my domain; only he can remove it here. It will keep you from skulking in shadows or otherwise avoiding swift justice."
Pitch glanced up, "Swift jus...?" but he was unable to finish his shocked statement as the big spirit strode forward suddenly grabbing his wrist and pulling him along.
Black was annoyed, "What are you doing?!" he tried to dig his feet in, but North was far too strong; he had to work to keep his balance and was forced to walk along with Claus or risk falling over due to his failed efforts to stop.
North grunted at him and led him into his large office where he oversaw much of the work done in the Pole. Therein he sat heavily upon a soft couch and in one smooth motion dragged Pitch into his lap. The lord of fear didn't react at all at first, wearing a highly confused look on his face, but when North grabbed ahold of his robes to lift them up past his buttocks and then pulled down his pants underneath to expose his bare cheeks beneath, he really started to buck about and writhe around in surprise, "Wait! Stop!"
North did not stop, though, and to Pitch's horror, his large callused hand lifted into the air before striking home soundly against the Nightmare King's backside.
"You said you wanted to know what happens when you get on Naughty List? Well here you go."
Pitch couldn't believe it: the large man was repeatedly striking him now, and no amount of squirming saw him free of what was quickly becoming a string of unavoidable blows. "B-but I'm not some child you can treat this way! Unhand me this moment!"
Claus shook his head no, "Not child, but I told you, we must treat you like one of us, and after thought, you're antics remind us most of Jack; he best be careful he doesn't get on the Naughty List or he may share your fate, no? If you won't show respect, then I'll use one of the best ways for making unruly children mindful."
"But I'm not a child!" screamed Pitch. The pain was escalating as his posterior quickly began to accumulate the results of Santa's effort; each swat hurt a little more as his ass became a little more tender. He grabbed ahold of the couch they sat on mostly because there was little else he could do. North had wrapped one large leg around his own kicking feet and placed one powerful arm around his waist rooting him into his position with little mobility and no hope of escape.
The whole scenario was entirely humiliating and Pitch grew red in the face in addition to the redness growing across his butt-cheeks. "If you don't let me go at once there will be dire consequences!"
North shrugged, "Sorry but I have never been afraid of you. If you could have done so I'm sure you would have killed me long before we got to this step. Save your idle threats for a time when they won't get you into even more trouble." To accentuate his words, Claus' hand came down even harder and Pitch grit his teeth against the awful sting his hand produced. The sound of his large hand coming down on him filled his ears and he found himself suddenly self-conscious about how he must look draped over the other man's knee.
His anger was harder and harder to hold onto as silence (save the slapping of North's hand on his behind) passed between them. His eyes watered with how excruciating the awful sting became, and to his dismay when he glanced over his own shoulder to look at North, the big man didn't look even slightly winded, nor did he show any sign of stopping. "Okay... okay! Stop, that's enough!"
North harrumphed at him, "I decide when is enough; you don't get up until I hear you say you're sorry... and mean it."
Pitch just stared at him in bewilderment, "You..." his anger returned in a sudden flash, and he shouted at North, "I'll do no such thing you great big ignoramus!" He quickly regretted his words as North showed him once more that he wasn't hitting him as hard as possible. His hand came down in a powerful torrent of painful slaps, and Pitch howled under the barrage, his rage melting away in the face of his new distress.
He couldn't take anymore and he knew it. North had pushed him to the limits of his tolerance to pain, and it was all he could do not to let the stinging tears of pained humiliation escape his eyes. He realized that despite the jovial man's general demeanor, he was truly set out to break him, and for the first time he accepted the possibility that this degrading punishment might succeed in doing just that. As it was, the longer they continued the more aware he became that one of North's minions or North himself could spread word around about the entire ordeal. Thinking of what such knowledge could do to his reputation was the final straw to break his resolve, "Alright, fine! ...I'm sorry."
North stopped swatting him and put his hand to his ear leaning close, "What was that? You'll need to speak up."
Pitch glared at him, grinding his teeth together as he observed the small smile on North's lips, "I said I'm sorry. There, you got your lip service; are you happy?"
North gave him a meaningful look, "I told you: you have to mean it. That was as far from meaningful as I can imagine." With that he started swatting Pitch again, who bucked around immediately to the intense sting of the renewed punishment. It was worse to stop and then start again he realized with sudden clarity. So much worse.
"Wait no, I'm sorry... I'm sorry!" But his words had no effect despite the desperation he could hear leaking into them, and despite his best efforts to betray it.
North just shook his head no again, "You're only sorry that I won't stop. You'll have to convince my belly that you are meaningful and earnest."
Pitch yowled loudly as he released the last of his anger and frustration in the only way available to him. Once his rage was spent though all that remained was the steady, painful arc of North's palm, and the fact that he still remained rooted upon his lap as if he were some errant child. North knew that the dialogue he chose was for Pitch to admit defeat, and he knew that Pitch would fight it.
But even spirits have limits, and as Pitch felt the warm wetness of his shamed tears loosing themselves upon his face he did his best to hide the fact that he was crying from North. It was a pointless effort though, and when he peeked back to see that Santa was regarding him with an open face full of compassion his countenance broke, and he sobbed in frustrated humiliation. This is what it came to, he thought. He had thought himself at the bottom of his fall from glory, but in his hubris he had not realized how far he could yet fall.
"You win..." his voice mirrored his emotions perfectly, as he no longer felt there to be a point in hiding it, "I'm sorry. Obviously I underestimated your capacity for cruelty, and my pride has been broken upon my defeat. Have your laughs at my expense, only let me go."
North shook his head and his hand finally stopped, "I won't laugh. I think you are closer to meaning it, so I'll say this is good enough for now." He stood suddenly helping Pitch to his feet.
Pitch, for his part, ripped himself away from North angrily once standing and hauled his pants back up, regretting the action for the sting he earned when the fabric of his clothing rubbed the sensitive skin of his buttocks harshly.
North smiled at him, "Now that we have that ugly business behind us, let me show you the work that must be done." His voice was genial, jovial even, but Pitch could sense that refusal wasn't an option. With his backside still burning fiercely he had no desire to offer more resistance at the moment, following North's indicated path begrudgingly.
Pitch was quiet as North toured him around the Pole, showing him the various rooms for assembling different toys of all kinds. There were yeti everywhere, and Pitch wrinkled his nose at the prospect of having to deal with so many powerful jailors. By the time the tour came to an end, Pitch was still rubbing at his pained cheeks unable to help but be angrily aware that sitting down was going to be painful for a long while. North turned to regard him once their review of his expected duties painting and assembling toys was complete, "Any questions?"
Pitch scowled, "Only how long you expect to strong-arm me into such service. Also, your yeti stink like wet dogs."
A nearby yeti growled, throwing the toy it had been working on to the floor and howling out a string of garbled sounding words Pitch couldn't understand before storming off.
North pointed to indicate the yeti that had left, "That was Phil; he's very sensitive about his smell. He does his best to bathe and is very hygienic..." he stepped closer, his sudden proximity startling
Pitch more than he might have thought it would, causing the smaller spirit to bump into the wall behind him as he backed away.
North lifted his arm and pointed at the tattoo there, "That was very rude to say. Are you trying to get back onto the Naughty List so soon?"
A sudden flush filled Pitch's face as he realized he wasn't ready to continue that line of thought, and he shook his head no, looking away in humiliation to stare at the floor. He balled his fists and swore to himself that he would make North pay for making him feel like that.
North's expression turned happy again, and he clapped an unwelcome hand on Pitch's shoulder, "Good! We will go look at the room I've secured for you, and you can start work today!"
Pitch was directed to a small space to call his own that he was told once belonged to a yeti who had a falling out with Santa. Pitch stayed there as long as he could; yet more yetis came to fetch him for work in Santa's workshop. The work was dull and tedious, and Pitch moved at a snail’s pace since he lacked any motivation whatsoever.
He repeated this for much of the day each day, only allowed a small window each day to wander the plaza at the workshop or brood quietly in his own room (which he was more prone to do).
North was going light on him he knew; as a spirit, Pitch didn't need to eat or sleep: if it had been him he would have made his enemy work ceaselessly for all eternity. But Claus didn't feel this way of course, because he was soft and feeble-minded in thinking that spending time with boring yeti and annoying elves was going to make him have a sudden change of heart.
What it did do was give him plenty of time to think up his escape plan and scout out the only unguarded exit from the pole; a massive machine designed to create some kind of beacon sat atop the pinnacle of the pole's towering structure. Therein Pitch had spied that the vents on top of the machine were open on both sides, and he would be able to squeeze himself through them even without his ability to turn into shadow.
On that note, once free of the building's magic, he should be capable of removing Sandman's aggravating enchanted wristband, loosening Sandy’s grip on his own powers, so that he could simply fly away. Once he observed this; all that was left was to wait until North was suitably distracted from the machine so that he could make his move. It required enduring elves and North far longer than he would have liked, but there was one time he would be certain that Santa would be too busy to monitor him; Christmas.
Skulking about outside North's office revealed some valuable information as Pitch overheard a conversation between North and one of his yetis (even without his powers, Pitch was quite skilled at hiding after so much time slipping from shadow to shadow). "Pitch will likely try to leave on Christmas Day, since that will be the only day I'll be away. Keep a sharp eye on him, and call the other Guardians if he manages to cause you any trouble."
Pitch smiled to himself; if North expected him to try to leave on Christmas Day, then he would likely not anticipate him leaving on Christmas Eve; after all, Santa would still be extremely busy in preparation for the following day, making it just as prime a time to slip away unnoticed.
Once the day came, Pitch did everything he could think of to act as if it were just another day, despite the rising (and annoying) tide of exuberance from those around him. When he finished his shift he took pains to casually stroll about as he sometimes did when he was too bored to brood in his room, angling himself towards the machine room he needed. Once nearby he glanced around to make sure no one was watching and slipped inside.
He had observed the ports to the machine from below, but now that he was inside, he saw that a ladder led up into the metal tubes that ran outside. He smiled, "How convenient." He started towards the ladder but a large furry hand suddenly clasped around his shoulder. He jumped, looking back to see that a yeti had taken ahold of him. The creature turned him around with a flick of its wrist, then grabbed hold of his bicep and hauled him out of the machine room.
"No, wait... I was just looking around... what are you doing... let me go!" Pitch tried to drag his feet but his resistance was futile and in short order the yeti had taken him back to North's office. His heart leapt into his throat at the thought of his attempt being reported to Claus, and he noted thankfully that Santa was not in his office.
The yeti pushed him inside and locked the door behind him. He could see through the thick glass that he was marching off purposefully, likely to fetch his master.
Pitch bit at his nails, feeling as if he could feel his blood pounding in his ears as he thought of the certain repercussions of his latest failure. How in the world had he not noticed that yeti was following him? They all looked the same to him; had that been the one that North had been speaking to about 'keeping an eye on him'?
He felt sick to his stomach that he had managed to get outmaneuvered yet again by that clumsy clown North. He roared his anger and kicked the table over, papers and various gadgets flying everywhere. Of course as he reflected on the wisdom of that action and considered putting things back as they were, North entered the room. Pitch jumped, "North! Terribly sorry about that... I thought I saw... a roach; I was trying to kill it..."
North gave him an exasperated look and shook his head as he approached, "There are no roaches in the North Pole. I saw you kick my desk. Pick it up."
Pitch's face felt heated from being caught and from the shame he felt at how easily he found himself erecting the desk to its previous place. He busied himself picking up the various objects that had adorned it as he scolded himself for allowing North to control him with nothing more than the threat of a spanking, but he couldn't stop himself, proving his hidden fear true that this was indeed all it took. That only led to more shame and self-disgust, so that Pitch's mood was quite dark by the time he finished, a deep frown marking his face.
He lifted his gaze to face North, starting to recoup his anger over the way he was being treated only to see that North was moving to take hold of him. "No, wait!" he cried as he attempted to side-step the larger man, failing as North trapped him between the desk and himself, taking him by the wrist and pulling him into his lap as he sat upon the newly righted desk. He only paused a moment to address the yeti, who had come back with him, "Thank-you, Phil. I'll handle this if you wouldn't mind meeting with the others when they show up."
The yeti nodded and closed the door behind himself. Pitch struggled in vain, his face red with effort as he huffed at North, "Stop! You're going to do this to me even though I put everything back?!"
North pulled his robe up and his pants down, glowering at Pitch in a way that made the smaller man cower, "It's not about the desk. If you try to leave despite my command maybe I give you warning; but you try to escape on Christmas Eve? You will not sit for days after this one. Maybe then you remember why you should be more cooperative."
"No, please!" Pitch thrashed around until North pinned him again, and his hand came down quickly afterward, starting hard and fast this time, making it clear that the kid gloves were off and Claus intended to really make him suffer for his violation of his sacred holiday. Pitch's breathing became erratic as he became suddenly panicked, and the dull understanding of what he must look like trussed over Santa's lap again washed over him.
At that moment, even as the sharp sounds of North's hand pummeling him filled the room, the door opened, and Pitch looked over to see four familiar faces peering back at him in surprise that mirrored his own horrified shock. Jack's face turned to mirth first, "No way! You're... spanking Pitch?!"
Bunny shook his head in astonishment, "I'll give you this one big guy; that's ballsy."
Tooth covered her mouth with both hands and Sandy's face registered the least amount of surprise. As he strode in giving Pitch a smug smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't say anything of course; Sandy never said anything, but the look on his face said enough: he was gloating over Pitch's situation.
"Let me up!" Pitch cried, "Stop! ...please!" The rush of sudden exposure and humiliation coupled with what he had already been feeling was too overwhelming, and Pitch felt tears threatening the corners of his eyes. No! He mustn’t let them all see him this way; he had to keep his composure! Telling himself that didn't seem to help much though, as his own mind couldn't help but retaliate by reminding him that he was laid about Claus' lap bare-bottomed like some delinquent school-boy.
North gave him a few more swats before stopping to address the others as they entered. "Ah, you all arrived so fast; good. As you all know, we agreed to take more aggressive approach to issue of addressing Pitch's aggression towards us..."
Bunny whistled, "Phew, if I had known that was what you and Sandy cooked up, I woulda said you were bonkers..."
North shrugged, "Well, it was mostly my idea, but Sandy helped make it happen with this enchanted band here. He pointed to the band on Pitch's arm, "With this on he is like mewling kitten."
Pitch's face flushed again at the fact that they were all talking about him in such a way, and he hid his face, shaking with the way he felt and the total feeling of impotence that accompanied it. To his surprise he felt a soft hand touching his face, and gentle fingers guided him to look into Tooth's large eyes, the hummingbird fairy spirit having bent down to look at him.
At first his thought was to pull away, but what he saw in her eyes held him: compassion. Much as what he'd seen in North's face as well before but even more so here, he would almost swear that she felt his misery. "Why...?" he murmured, feeling his tears betray him again and glide down his cheeks without a care for how they humiliated him.
She continued to caress his cheek, her own eyes watery as if she might for some reason begin to cry as well, "It was my idea to try to get you to reform instead of imprisoning you, but I see that's still how you feel. I'm sorry; I know that you were like us once, and I just wanted to give you a chance for change no matter what you might have done in the past."
Pitch ripped his face from her grasp, scowling at her, "You have no idea who you're talking to; none of you do."
North raised his hand again and Pitch flinched, but Tooth's voice cut through the threat of continuation, "Wait, please." All eyes turned to her and she blushed, "Do you mind if I try?"
Jack's mouth hung open, "Wha...?"
Bunny's look was incredulous, "Wait, let me check this; you want to spank him?"
North looked at her sincerely, "Are you sure? He's a bit of a kicker..."
"I won't need to hold him down, will I Pitch?" she said.
Pitch blinked at her and then realized what she was doing as she sat in a nearby chair and patted her lap, "You'll come along quietly for me, won't you?" she asked.
She was offering for him to be free of North this time, even if it meant he would be going willingly into her version of the punishment. He thought to give them all a cutting remark of some kind, but honestly he was too drained from what had happened thus far and the opportunity to switch over to someone whose hand would hit him a lot more softly was undeniable to his shaking, pained cheeks.
He rose, if hesitantly from North's lap and the other spirit did not try to stop him. He reached back to pull his pants up, and Claus shook his head, "You won't be needing those up yet."
His face burned with shame as he quickly crossed the room with his trousers down, wondering if that hadn't managed to be the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him. He hesitated at Tooth's lap, but deciding that he had come this far and still painfully aware that he was standing around with his trousers down, he moved to get it all over with and prostrated himself over her narrow lap.
She placed one hand gently on his back and the other raised into the air to begin. Before she started, she leaned close, so that only he could hear her, "I'm sorry it's come to this, but it doesn't have to be this way." With that her hand became a flurry of movement, and he shouted in surprised pain as her hand came down in repeated lightning strikes, hitting him with a sound like that of a striking whip.
She had tricked him into thinking her punishment would be more easily endured, but this was just as bad if not worse! To make matters worse, she wasn't holding him down, so he had to hold himself in place against the flurry of painful slaps or risk further embarrassment on account of being unable to sort himself through a beating from a small hummingbird fairy.
Unlike North with his quietly judgmental punishments; she spoke throughout, "You can be the person you were before you changed, or even be someone else now, after all if you changed once, why wouldn't you be able to change again?"
Still reeling from the unexpected level of pain, Pitch sneered at her, "What in the world makes you think I'd want to be anyone other than who I am now?"
She gave him a sad look that made him ache in his heart for some reason he couldn't fathom. She... reminded him of someone. He pushed the feeling aside. No; he couldn't stop now, not after having come this far...
Tooth's hand continued its work, "Jack told us what you said to him." Pitch looked away from her now, but she continued anyways, "You can have those things; be believed in, be seen... with fear, yes, you potentially could have that again. But if you ever want family again..."
He looked back to her, his face vulnerable and confused, because what she said was true. She stopped spanking him and lifted him so that he sat beside her. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He was stiff at first, shocked and still swimming through the sea of conflicted emotion that churned in his heart, but then he found himself hugging her back.
Coming to this point pushed him past where he was and for a brief moment he was able to forget his humiliation and the presence of the others in the room. All he could feel now was the warm embrace of someone who cared despite himself, and a feeling he hadn't know he still had came rushing to the surface as he wept into her shoulder.
She kissed his forehead and stroked his hair, assuring him with soft words that he would be alright.
For the first time in centuries, Pitch felt something fill the void in his heart, even if he felt the things that possessed him pushing back. He glanced at his wrist and saw that the flesh of his arm around the band looked far more healthy now, returning to a natural rosy color as opposed to its usual pale hue. He glanced over at Sandy and saw the same smug smile.
That impish creature... could this be what he had planned all along? Pitch had forced him to become Nightmare before in his attempt to dominate Dream, but it would seem that perhaps Dream wished to return him the favor in reverse.
Could his nightmares of loneliness be turned to dreams of family after all this time? He clutched Tooth tightly; the demons inside him roared in fury at the notion, but Kozmotis Pitchiner wanted to be saved...