Trigger Warning

He should have known. The Nightmares would accept no one but him as their King, not even someone he had specially selected to rule them by his side.

But rather than ruling them, Jack was ruled by them.

It was the only time Pitch had truly hated his Nightmares. They had consumed Jack and destroyed him from the inside until he was just a scared little boy, a shadow of his former self.

And Pitch was to blame.

Maybe that was why he felt so responsible for the boy now—he had done this to him, unintentional as it was, and now he had to protect him.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Claustrophobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

Though the boy hardly ever made a sound, Pitch could sense his fear and hear it as loudly as if he had screamed it.

The poor child was always filled with terror, so Pitch had grown more or less accustomed to hearing his fearful murmurings, but today his panic attacks seemed to be especially severe.

Jack began to struggle to breathe, and Pitch grasped the boy's shoulders to bring him back to reality.

The sounds of Jack's fears flooded into Pitch's mind, but it was unintelligible, like the clamor of many voices. He only managed to pick out a few words from the noise: trapped… no way out… walls closing in… suffocating…

Jack's harsh breathing reached Pitch's ears again and he rubbed the boy's arms to soothe him.

"What are you so afraid of, Jack?" He asked.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Agoraphobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

He used to take Jack up to the world above and try to persuade him to play in the snow and fly through the sky, as he used to so love to do, but the boy was so sensitive to change nowadays that he no longer dared.

The last time he had coaxed the boy out of their home, Jack had been overwhelmed by his anxieties and simply shook in Pitch's arms and buried his head in his chest.

Pitch took him back to the lake where he had died, thinking perhaps he could entice the child to go ice-skating, but the boy cried out upon being placed upon the ice. His fears spoke to Pitch: He was afraid of being away from home. He was afraid of the world above. He was afraid of the fragile ice beneath him cracking. Pitch sighed and carried the boy back to the darkness of their home.

Jack was afraid of drowning, but he had already sunk so far into the shadows that he could never again resurface.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Achluophobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

He found the boy curled up on his side, his breathing erratic and loud in the quiet of their home. His wide eyes were staring down a corridor into the darkness.

Pitch knelt down beside him, pulling him into an embrace and removing his hand from his mouth. Pitch noted with displeasure that he had gnawed the nails to bleeding stubs. Again.

The poor boy's heartbeat was racing; fear poured off of him in waves. Pitch gently petted his hair until he calmed down.

"What are you so afraid of?" He quietly asked.

Jack said nothing, but his eyes drifted lazily back to the dark corners of their home.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Somniphobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

The boy was always exhausted, if the dark shadows under his eyes were anything to go by, but he refused to sleep most days. Even when he did manage to fall asleep, it was never for long; his own personal tormentors, the Fearlings, allowed him no rest.

If Pitch could coax the boy into a short nap it was a good day, but that rarely happened.

He had come to expect the nightmares that plagued Jack's sleep by now, but not even he, the Nightmare King, could prevent them.

He could only comfort him after he woke crying.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Isolophobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

Pitch came home that morning and for the first time since Jack had joined him, the place felt empty. He searched the caverns for the boy.

Pushing open the door to their bedroom, Pitch found him curled up on the bed where he had left him the night before. At first Pitch was glad he was sleeping, but he frowned as he approached the bed and the smell of fear reached him.

Pitch sat down on the side of the bed and pulled the boy into his lap. Jack took hold of Pitch's cloak in his bandaged hands and pressed his face into his chest.

"What are you so afraid of?" He asked gently as he stroked the boy's hair.

He didn't get an answer, but Jack burrowed further into his chest.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Astraphobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

A crash echoed through their home. Jack, who had been calmly resting beside him on the settee prior, tensed against him. Another rumble sounded and the boy began to tremble.

Pitch looked away from his book up towards the roof of their home; it was thundering in the world above.

When he looked back to Jack, he found the boy with his knees pulled to his chest, his hands pressed over his ears, and his eyes clenched shut.

The smell of Jack's fear filled the air. As much as Pitch wished he didn't, he found the sweet scent soothing.

Pitch wrapped an arm around him and stroked his side idly as he returned to his book.

Gradually the rumbling from above came to a stop. Pitch rested his open book on the arm of the couch and pulled Jack into his lap. He pried the boy's hands away from his ears and stroked his hair until eventually the boy's erratic breathing leveled out into the deep, slow exhales of someone who is sleeping lightly.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Pteromerhanophobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

When he returned home in the morning, it was quiet, but Pitch could hear a soft whimpering and could smell the fear that was thick in the air. Sighing, he searched the place for Jack.

He found him on one of the bridges that crisscrossed over the caverns. He was hiding his face in his knees.

Pitch carefully knelt beside the shaking boy, pulling him into his arms and rubbing his back, trying to soothe him.

He remembered the days when he would watch Jack soar through the air on a swift wind. Those days seemed so far away now. That boy from his memories was so different from the broken child who was quaking in his arms now, too afraid to even move.

Gradually the boy's shudders died down. Pitch picked him up bridal style and carried him off the bridge.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asked in a whisper.

The way the boy's eyes seemed to drift back to the void under their feet did not go unnoticed by Pitch.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Arachnophobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

A sound like the skittering of many tiny legs echoed through the caverns, breaking the silence that hung like a cloud in their underground home. Beside him, Jack whimpered. His wide eyes darted all around in search of the source of the sound.

Pitch knew the boy was having another one of his hallucinations. Nothing lived in these caverns except for he and his charge. The things that moved in the shadows were all under Pitch's command… supposedly.

Pulling him close, Pitch rubbed his arm and stroked his hair. The boy was trembling and breathing harshly. Pitch could hear his heart beating loudly in the quiet of their home and the sound of Jack chewing his fingernails.

He didn't bother telling the boy that what he was hearing wasn't real. It was real enough to Jack and Pitch had learned well enough from their time together that the best thing for it was comforting him until his panic subsided. So Pitch merely held the boy close and whispered sweet nothings to him until he began to calm down.

"What are you so afraid of, Jack?" Pitch sighed.

Jack made no sign that he had heard the other, but then again, Pitch didn't expect him to.

:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::|Bogyphobia|:::::|:::::|:::::|:::::

The sun was setting. Pitch would have to leave for work soon, but he was worried about leaving Jack alone all night.

He tried to entice Jack to sleep—the poor child was always so exhausted—, but the boy was restless. He whined and struggled weakly in Pitch's grip as he was carried to bed. His eyes were clenched shut and eyebrows furrowed.

He relaxed a bit when Pitch set him down, but he wouldn't open his eyes and he was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

Pitch stroked his cheek with the back of his hand, but the boy turned his head away.

"What are you so afraid of, Jack?" He asked. He wasn't expecting an answer.

After a few moments, just as he was getting ready to leave with a sigh, the boy peeked his eyes open and turned to look up at Pitch.

"You."

A/N: This is sort of an epilogue to another Black Ice fanfiction I'm writing.

Each vignette focuses on one of Jack's fears, all of which—except for the last one—are among the most common fears. In order, they are as follows:

Claustrophobia (fear of confined places)

Agoraphobia (fear of situations in which escape is difficult)

Achluophobia (fear of the dark)

Somniphobia (fear of sleep)

Isolophobia (fear of being alone)

Astraphobia (fear of thunder and lightning)

Pteromerhanophobia (fear of heights)

Arachnophobia (fear of spiders)

Bogyphobia (fear of the bogeyman)

I'm the least happy with agoraphobia because it came out sounding more like aquaphobia, but people who suffer from agoraphobia often begin to fear leaving their home, so I tried to focus on that.

Let me know what you thought! I have lots more ideas for fanfictions of these two (and none of them are happy).