Hello, guys! It's been a while since I wrote something and I've just forgot how hard it can be! However, this idea had been bothering me for some time and I couldn't simply let it slip away. It's a collection of 100 drabbles all centered in Jack Frost/Pitch relationship, in a very father-son way (before, during and after the movie). I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.

Changelog:
Chapter updated: 04/14/16 - Full rewrite
Chapter updated: 07/15/16 - Chapter doesn't belong to Lightbringer timelime anymore; spelling mistakes fixed

Summary: In which Jack finally finds a 'friend'.

01. Abandoned (1812)
Guardians; Welcome Home

A hundred years may be nothing in the eyes of an immortal but a mere breeze of summer sweeping away the months and years swiftly, leaving only the moments behind, good or bad, that were soon forgotten and replaced by new moments. A hundred years were absolutely nothing in compare to the countless centuries resting over an immortal's shoulders. But a hundred years had been a long, long time for him. Years that had ran too slowly, too painfully for someone that knew barely nothing about his own existence. He couldn't understand why he had ended up like that, unseen and unwanted by everyone else but the Wind. He couldn't understand why children and adults alike simply walked through him as if he wasn't real. He couldn't understand why the other spirits ignored him, why they pretended he didn't really exist when all he wanted were some answers to his questions.

He had done nothing wrong to deserve such a cold treatment.

He was just a winter spirit trying to find out the true reason of his existence. He knew his name was Jack Frost because the Moon had told him so - and that was the only thing anyone had ever told him. Not that the Wind hadn't even tried, but no matter what he did he simply couldn't understand his only friend. Her touches were soft and gentle and he knew she cared about him, but it wasn't enough. She didn't have the answers he had been looking for restlessly for the past years, and those who could offer him some clarification gave him nothing but silence.

That was horrid, terrifying.

The Wind whispered sweetly on his ears, sensing his sudden distress. How she knew him so well he'd never comprehend, but he couldn't be more grateful for her constant presence by his side. Unfortunately he needed more than her company, more than her silent touches that allowed him to visit every place in a world that had chosen not to see him, not to believe in his existence. But before he could dwell on such depressing thoughts, she dropped him on the middle of his lake, brushing his hair as softly as she'd touch a snowflake.

The moonlight shining over his head was the first thing he noticed, the anger burning under his frozen skin at the silent mockering. He didn't even notice how tight was his grip on his staff until his knuckles became more white than they should be, yet it didn't stop him from looking up at the big, bright moon that once meant a respectful, overwhelming presence but now was no more than another unfriendly spirit that cared nothing about him.

"You put me here... At least you could tell me why!"

"You're just wasting your time."

A voice echoed too close, velvet and soft as the shadows dancing behind the trees. A wave of irrational fear and stupid excitement ran through his spine before he had enough time to think about it, and the winter child simply watched, gobsmacked, as a tall figure made of the purest darkness stepped out of the same shadows covering those woods. He knew he should run and stay away from that creature as much as it was possible, but he couldn't move in that moment.

Someone was talking to him.
Someone could see him.

How was he supposed to run away from the first person that had officially spent more than ten seconds around him?

Golden eyes got opened slowly, a crushing contrast against all the black around them, and for a long moment Jack allowed himself to get lost in those orbs that resembled an eclipse, turning silver and gold and silver again. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever watched, and he was sure he could stand there for hours, simply gawking. But the creature started moving quietly, circling him, those same eyes full of hunger and something Jack couldn't name nor dared to, because he didn't want to know what was that.

"W-who are you?"

He knew he shouldn't let his voice fail him in that pathetic way, yet there wasn't much he could do being under such a powerful, overwhelming gaze. A glimpse of jagged, sharp teeth caught his attention, and finally the dark creature stopped his walking and got close enough to the moonlight. It was a tall man dressed in black, elegant clothes that seemed to be made of the night and darkness combined, a perfect picture of a fallen king that hadn't lost an inch of his proud and manners. Shadows danced and moved restlessly under his feet, as if trying to escape him and somehow it was a beautiful sight. His grey skin glittered a bit under the silvery light, yet his expression was nothing like Jack had expected to see.

There was understanding, as if he knew exactly what Jack had been feeling for the last hundred years. There was a twisted kind of compassion that didn't fit him, but sent a warm wave right on Jack's frozen heart. A warmth that felt strangely familiar and terrifying at the same time, that he didn't know how to accept but enjoyed the feeling anyway.

"I have many names, but I suppose you may call me Pitch Black." His voice was as soft as the night involving them, dangerous and hungry, yet Jack didn't move away as he should've done. "Why are you talking to the Moon, child?"

"Because... I need to know why I'm here..."

"You're asking the wrong person." Pitch Black said simply, but Jack noticed how the shadows grew angrier for a mere moment and then dying away as quickly. "Tell me your name."

It wasn't a question. It was an order barely disguised under soft words, and the child's trembling grip on his staff tightened a bit more, the overwhelming fear that came from nowhere at all invading every inch of his body once more.

"Jack Frost. That's what the Moon told me..."

Pitch Black hummed with satisfaction and a shadow of smile appeared on his lips for no longer than a second before he stepped back into the darkness he had came from. And in that moment Jack felt panic overcoming the fear, because if Pitch left it'd mean he'd be all alone again. It'd mean no one would talk to him for a long time, and that mere thought was enough to make him feel like hyperventilating. He knew it was stupid and childish but it was stronger than him.

"Wait!" Jack screeched, louder than he had expected, but fortunately it made Pitch stop moving away, standing too still, waiting for him to say something else. "I mean... I need to know. So could you... Could you tell me? You're the first person to talk to me in a really long time..."

The dark figure melted into shadows without a sound before the child could keep pleading, but Jack felt the powerful presence still there, circling him once more as a wolf would do to a prey, the golden stare burning his skin, painful as a flame against his fragile ice.

"Is that what you wish, child?"

"I..don't want to be alone anymore. Please."

Gold turned into silver for a mere moment under the moonlight, and Pitch's smile grew almost manically but before Jack had enough time to be scared grey fingers reached out for him, a silent promise that said as clear as day he'd never escape that hold once he stepped into the dark. The moon seemed to shine a bit brighter over his head, as if trying to push the darkness away, yet he paid little attention to it, completely focused on the dark spirit offerring him so much in so little time. Why should he care about the stupid moon now, after being ignored and abandoned for a hundred years by the one he had considered a father before?

"Have no fear, little snowflake."

The sweetness on the melodic voice was enough to enchant him over and over again, shoving his hesitation and anxiety away. Jack didn't even notice the moment he stepped closer, his breath stuck on his throat when he wrapped his fingers around long ones and didn't pass through them as it had happened so countless times before. It was a real touch, and the winter child couldn't name the feelings washing over him as powerful as a tidal wave. Pitch's skin was just too warm, almost overheated yet he didn't move away because he knew he had felt such warmth before but couldn't remember when.

"Nothing goes better together than cold and dark, after all."

The second darkness overcame his sight, he wasn't scared about what was about to come sooner or later. For some reason, he knew that he'd never be alone again - and it was all worth it.

Thank you for reading!
See ya~