Drowning in Black Sand - A RotG Fic

 Jack had failed.

 He remembered the Guardians trying to stop him from diving in to the sand, attempting to get Sandy back because...he couldn't accept that he was gone, that he had been consumed by the very same black dust that he had now gotten himself entangled in. He thought he could save him and defeat Pitch right there and then, but he was too powerful, and now he couldn't activate his powers so that he could escape, let alone move an inch. The sand paralyzed him and everything just went numb.

 It was all black inside the whirl of nightmares and fears.

 He continued to fight, to struggle, but he couldn't do anything. He could only lament and regret what he had done...he could only grieve about what he couldn't see, about the future of the children and the Guardians.

 He felt like he was falling in to a never-ending abyss of darkness.

 Yet to his surprise, that wasn't what Pitch had planned for him. Now that he was trapped in where he was strongest, the Boogieman wanted to have some fun with his new captive. The winter spirit was someone who interested him simply because he had that void inside of him. A void that if pushed in the right direction can be advantageous to him and help him conquer the rest of the world. The boy could be feared just like him and would make his grip on the children so much stronger...

 For cold and fear were synonymous with each other. They were never too far apart, and most of the time worked hand in hand.

 Jack continued to fall until unexpectedly, he hit something hard. The pain immediately kicked in starting from his back and quickly spreading throughout his whole body. He groaned loudly as he regained a tiny sense of control with his body. Curling his fingers slowly but surely, he looked around, but all he could see was that he was on a sheet of ice that stretched in to the darkness. There was nothing above him or around him, yet he could feel icy cold water below and to his horror, he could hear the ever so fragile floor cracking.

 He raised his trembling arm and tried to feel around. His face was then filled with relief when he felt a familiar texture of wood. His fingers curled around it and then gripping it tight, but he couldn't feel his power coming alive even with his staff.

 Suddenly, he heard a voice. A very faint one and something in his mind was telling him that he should know this person, but he didn't. Who was she? Why did he suddenly feel like he needed to know who she was? Was this person...a part of his childhood before he became Jack Frost? The voice was calling out his name, over and over.

 He needed to know.

 He would not give up here when he was so close.

 The spirit realized that he was able to somewhat move again, only his legs were being eaten by the black sand. Each breath he took felt painful and heavy. If he didn't do anything now, he would truly be gone.

 The darkness was cold, a cold that he hated. It was filled with fear, and that was not who he was.

 He wanted...he wanted to bring joy, not fear.

 And he kept repeating this thought in his mind, not wanting to give in to Pitch, in to his nightmares. He then felt his strength slowly returning, and the more he chanted it, the more he held on to that belief that he could do it. With a yell, he let out the power that had nearly been sealed away, eradicating the black sand that tried to consume him. The blast, without him knowing, drove Pitch away, yet left him vulnerable. He then felt himself falling again, but not in to darkness; instead he found himself waking up on North's sleigh, being praised and congratulated by the Guardians.

 He had done it.

 He had defeated Pitch...

 Or so they had thought.