CHAPTER SEVEN: EVERYTHING GOES TO SHIT

The Rosencrantz Hotel was something out of a fancy magazine, Jack would admit. The entire place had a sense of shine to it, right down to the gold accents embedded in the trim of the ceiling. Polished marble and plush carpets ran through the building, directing people through to their lavish, over priced rooms.

It was the place someone like Jack could hunt without any problem, though tonight he was after a very specific type of prey.

Which is exactly why he is standing in front of the mirror in his and Aster's shared bathroom, where he has been for the past thirty minutes.

"Goddamn it, Jack!" Aster gruffs from the other side of the door. "We've got to meet Sandy downstairs in five minutes fer christ's sake!"

Jack watches as his reflection's eyes roll in irritation, and then proceeds to go back to toying with his hair.

"Give me a fucking minute!" Jack barks back, calm hands a perfect opposite to harsh tone.

Aster goes silent for a second, which makes Jack quite happy, but then decides to pick right back up.

"You never took this long when we were together." Aster hisses.

Ha. "When they were together." That's what he's calling it, huh?

"Because you didn't want someone who did this." Jack snaps, "Fucking moron."

That shuts Aster up. It always seems to, when Jack shows claws. He's so used to Jack presenting himself as weak, demure thing that the moment Jack pulls out the big guns Aster's blown right off his feet. It'd be hilarious if it wasn't so goddamn annoying.

A good ten minutes later, just to piss Aster off, Jack saunters out of the bathroom and right past Bunnymund's angry face. Jack smirks and flicks Bunny's nose as he walks past, breaking the larger male's angry face in two.

"Let's go geddem." Jack simply says, halfway out the door to their hotel room.

(THIS IS A LINE, ISN'T IT BEAUTIFUL?)

Pitch was at the bar, and had been for the past half hour. This was the first step in Sandy's master plan, to set Jack in place before the fight itself. Thus, when Jack and Aster enter the bar on the main floor of the hotel, they know that they won't be leaving together.

They know exactly where Pitch is sitting, on a plush, round, booth with a few other rich fuddies that Jack is sure would be no good in a fight. Corrupt politicians, then. All of them so deep in Pitch's pocket they've built themselves homes out of the lint.

Ah, well.

Aster and Jack take their places at the bar, and even now Jack can feel golden eyes on him. There's the hook, then. He'd kept his white hair, apparently Pitch had a thing for exotic looks. Aster remains as frigid as ever, though this time it was more of an act than anything. The unhappy couple, that's what they were. Jack acts like he wants to talk to Aster, even as he continues to gruffly shove him aside.

"So, are you ready for the fight?" Jack asks, pretending to care.

"Course."

"That's good, right? I'm sure you'll win."

"Course."

From the corner of his gaze, Jack sees golden eyes narrow, studying him. Aster gives the signal, a simple double tap against his glass with his fingers, that he sees it too. They wait another ten minutes, idly keeping up the act, before Jack has an idea.

"Hit me."

"What?"

"Hit me. Straight up, just slap me."

"Why in the hell would I do that?"

"It's perfect. Hit me and storm off, Pitch will jump on it. There's no one easier than an abused spouse."

"Oh, and you would know?" Aster sounds doubtful.

"Yeah, because I tend to know a lot more than you." Make him angry, there's a plan.

"As if. You ruddy Americans, always thinking you're so much smarter."

"Well kangaroo, if you weren't such a dumbass I wouldn't have to say it."

Aster bristles, but it's not enough.

"You know, it makes me wonder if you're even good enough to keep this going. If you get us caught I'm going to kill you myself, besides, if you fuck as good as you con then we're all scre-"

SLAP

Jack's head snaps to the side as Aster's open hand makes contact, mouth still open and eyes wide.

The sudden silence of the bar is broken as patrons go back to their meals, hurriedly trying to ignore what had just happened. Jack slowly brings his head back to look at Aster, who stares back in shock.

A smirk ghosts across his face, and Jack snarkily rubs at his reddening cheek.

"Now, was that so hard?"

Aster just shakes his head and leaves, storming off and out of the bar.

From across the room golden eyes glow with possibility.

(THIS IS A LINE, ISN'T IT BEAUTIFUL?)

Jack lets out a giggle at yet another of Pitch's flirting attempts. For the past hour they'd been chatting, and admittedly, Jack was rather charmed. He could see how Pitch had become such a womanizer, even as the man tossed another suave compliment at him.

"So, why are you with that brute of a man, anyways? Pretty thing like you must have had a million men throwing themselves at your feet." Pitch says, taking a tactful sip of his bandy. Jack's own fruity drink stands beside it, Jack notably not taking a sip since the conversation had started. He'd had enough experience with drugged drinks to know better.

The question throws Jack for a loop, and he's forced to scramble.

"We were highschool sweethearts." Jack murmurs, grasping at straws. "He was so sweet. Then there was this awful fighting business, he got obsessed. He makes so much money, he's never lost a fight. But it makes him so… angry."

The final word is a drawn out sigh, and Pitch makes the appropriate face in the face of such a "tragedy".

"Such a pity," Pitch says it with such honesty that Jack doesn't protest as a long fingered had is raised to cup his cheek. "A pity indeed."

Jack smiles and brings a hand up to grasp Pitch's.

Too easy.

(THIS IS A LINE, ISN'T IT BEAUTIFUL?)

Jack invites Pitch to the fight, as if he doesn't know Pitch will already be there. Pitch acts all high and mighty as he invites Jack to watch "his brutish husband" brawl from the box lounge. Jack discusses this with the others before going, and all four of them were ready. Sanderson and Toothiana were three states away in Pitch's official place of residence. Namely, they were only a kilometer and a half away from the safe they were targeting.

North was ready to go, having already approached Pitch with his offer. They had planned to meet in a week and some change.

Bunny was all ready to fight, his opponent a man named Phil. Phil was North's main man.

They'd already planned for Phil to go down in the fifth, making Aster the winner and stacking the odds. People from all around the world had filtered to the abandoned warehouse that the five of them had set up with bleachers, the ring, a betting station, and, most importantly, a box lounge that Pitch had reserved the moment it had become available.

Which means it all comes down to Jack.

The "box lounge" was a fancy, smoozy kind of room that was thick with cigar smoke (from Pitch). Plush, comfortable chairs sat facing the arena for the fight, which could be seen from the balcony. Pitch had invited Jack to join him, and Jack had just giggled and said he'd love to.

Pitch was falling like a tree, and it was beautiful.

The man himself was relaxing, puffing away at some cigar a Cuban man probably died for. Jack had dropped a few hints at Aster being a sure win, and Pitch had finally caught on. The box was sitting by his side, the two of them slowly sinking into the couch that had the best view of where the fight would take place in half an hour.

"So why are you so sure of your husband's win? His opponent is twice his size." Pitch says it casually, but Jack can see the deceit a mile away.

Jack blinks, as if shocked, subtly fluttering his eyelashes just for that extra oomp.

"Oh, you caught that? I… uh, well. Don't tell Aster if you ever see him… but I, uh, I followed him to a meeting he had about a week ago." Jack stutters it out, despite having gone over the lie a million times with North and Aster both.

"Oh, did you? Naughty." Pitch is such a sleeze, good Christ.

"Yeah," Jack huffs, "I did. And he met up with another man, a huge guy. Like a mountain! He had this huge white beard, blue eyes. His coat was red with white trim. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was Santa…" Jack lets it trail, lets it sink in, and nearly snickers when Pitch's eyes flash with recognition. It's not like North was very similar to anyone else in the city.

"Anyways, he and Aster talked. They've rigged the fight. The other man is supposed to go down in the fifth. They've both placed huge bets on Aster."

"…rigged it?" Pitch mutters, looking puzzled.

"Yep." Jack pops his p for emphasis. With a sigh he sinks closer to Pitch, casually sliding closer to bury himself under Pitch's arm. Pitch apparently has no complaints as he tightens his newfound grip on Jack.

Both of them take notice as the lights begin to dim, and even more so as spotlights light up the ring. Aster and Phil are on stage, parading around even as Jack half-heartedly waves down. When the fight actually begins below, Jack uses the distraction to sink closer to Pitch. With the lights off it would be much easier to snatch the phone and run.

"Jack," Tooth's voice buzzes in Jack's ear. A small speaker, barely the size of a hearing aid, was nestled deep within Jack's ear, it's twins belonging to the others. Tooth had built them, a better version of what they had used to rob the Catalina Wine Mixer, when Jack had met Aster and everything had started going to shit.

Jack, to his credit, doesn't even flinch when Tooth begins to whine that they were in place and can't he just hurry up, they're waiting for that code.

Showtime, then.

With a quick movement, Jack flips in Pitch's grip. Their eyes lock, and Jack grabs at Pitch's face with a fake determination.

"Don't freak out." Is all he says.

And he slams their lips together into a kiss that has Pitch at a loss. So much so, in fact, that Jack is able to squirm onto the man's lap without any protest whatsoever. Internally, Jack shudders at the thought of kissing this nasty bastard, but hey, he's honestly done worst.

So when hands start groping Jack uses it to his advantage in order not to puke like a punkass bitch. As Pitch's hand grabs at his back and starts going decidedly south, Jack takes the time to slip a hand into Pitch's jacket and try to feel for the rounded frame of a cheap, disposable, prepaid piece-of-shit phone.

Top left pocket, inner lining. The golden ticket, wrapped in silk.

With quick fingers, the phone is now in Jack's pocket. Like magic. Poof.

An internal clock begins to tick. Jack lets the make out go on for about twenty more minutes as Aster gets the shit beat out of him below. Eventually Pitch backs off for air, and Jack sees his chance to get the fuck out of dodge.

"I need to… uh." Jack throws in the stutter for effect as Pitch mauls his neck and under his jaw. "Uh."

Pitch simply lets up, looks Jack in the eye, and chuckles. "Go on, then."

Jack simple shoots him a grateful smile and slips out of the room, already pulling out his phone to call Tooth. He practically sprints his way down the hall and takes a sharp turn into a storage closet. The door closes with a click behind him, pale hands drawing it closed as lightly as possible.

And with that, he texts Tooth. It was too dangerous to call.

"How're ya doin, frostbite?" Aster's voice filters through his ears, making Jack freeze mid type.

"…fine. Aren't you supposed to be beating the shit out of Phil?"

"Yeah, fight ended early. Guy fainted with a couple punches."

…oh.

OH SHIT.

"Then. Where. Is. Pitch."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." The response comes from right behindhimoh-

Jack can barely scream before large hands wrap around him and yank him backwards, one hand around his mouth and the other bringing an iron bar across his waist.

He's jerked backwards into a muscled chest and out of the closet, and whoever it was turns him quickly to bring him face to face with Pitch. Blue eyes widen as Pitch grins with a mouth full of teeth.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, Jack can feel pure, unadulterated terror course through him.

"Now, Jack. Hasn't anyone ever told you that playing with a man's heart can be a dangerous pastime?" Pitch says patronizingly, patting Jack's head. Jack jerks in the hold the goon has on him, though that's the equivalent of trying to beat down a brick wall with his fist.

Jack can hear Aster's horrified shouting on the other side of their comm link, and it's only now he begins to tune back into it.

"Jack!? Jackie? Goddamn it what's happening? Jack, Christ, please respond!"

Pitch can see his eyes shift, Jack knows he can. That theory is only confirmed as Pitch cups Jack's cheek, in a mockery of how they had first spoken, only to reach gently into his ear and pull out the speaker.

Jack's hyperventilating, oh my god he's going to die!

"Now, Jack, darling. We need to have a little chat. But not here, I'm afraid. Too many… rats, eh, Frost?"

Blue eyes go even wider. Pitch had known. He'd known the whole goddamn time! Good god this was going to end with his body dead in a ditch and the others as well and oh my god-

His thoughts are cut as the man holding him lifts Jack bodily off the ground and begins to carry him off, even as he brings his arms up to scramble, to break free, anything. The man lets his face go, and Jack begins to scream.

"Let me GO, LET ME GO, YOU FUCKER PUT ME DOWN!"

But before he can continue, a strip of bitter smelling cloth is forced in front of his face, and everything goes fuzzy.

The last thing he sees is a pair of golden yellow eyes, glaring out from a blurred grey background.

Pitch grins as Jack goes limp. His current goon was such a smart one, one who had been hiding the whole time unknown to Saint North, or Bunnymund, not even Jack had known. Let alone the two currently being taken down in his estate. He waves to the man, who begins to carry Jack's limp body down the hall and out the door.

He'd be putting the boy in the trunk of the car, Jack wouldn't protest since he wouldn't be waking up for the next twenty four-ish hours. Ah, well. Pitch would be patient.

But first.

With a smooth motion Pitch holds Jack's comm to his ear, listening to Bunnymund flip his proverbial shit. Hilarious.

"Hello, Aster Bunnymund." Pitch drawls.

"PITCH! Ya rat bastard, where's Jack?!"

"That's none of your concern. Jackson had another appointment, can I take a message?"

"I swear to god when I get over there I'm gonna-"

"Do absolutely nothing. Because unfortunately for you, you have your own problems to deal with."

Muffled gunfire comes from the other side of the comm, along with Aster cursing up a storm.

Pitch chuckles as he lets the comm drop, casually stepping on it as he heads down the hallway and towards the car.

He had a country to flee, after all.

A/N School is over, LET THE GAMES BEGIN!