The others had been waiting for the Frost boy to arrive, and when he finally decided to make an appearance, North dragged the winter spirit into his office and made him sit in the circle in between Bunnymund and Toothiana.
"Jack, I told you what we had discussed."
Jack shrugged, scowling at the others, while trying to look inconspicuous.
"Now, this will be a sleeve free place" North grumbled, staring directly at Jack, who growled at him in an animal like matter, standing up and turning to leave.
"Jack, mate, he said to take off the jumper" Bunny snapped.
"I don't give a shit" Jack spat, slipping out the door and storming toward his bedroom.
A tight grip wrapped itself around his wrist and he let out a cry of agony.
"Jack, I said..."
"Get off me" Jack howled, lashing out at North.
"Jack, take of your jumper."
The boy shook his head.
"Take off the jumper, or else."
Sobs erupted from Jack's throat as he squirmed in North's grasp, trying to release himself, his chest heaving.
North raised his hand and Jack cowered.
"P-please. Please, d-don't hit me" the winter spirit whimpered and North dropped his arm, released Jack's wrist, which was now bleeding.
"Jack, I'm sorry, I..."
"I hate you" Jack snarled, closing his eyes, trying to erase the memory of Pitch Black's cold hands from his mind.
"Jack, please..."
"I hate you."
"Listen to me."
"No!" Jack screamed, shoving North back "Don't touch me, you have no right."
"You didn't protect me."
"You think I was alone, for three hundred years?"
"Um..."
"I wasn't. You wanna know who was there?"
"Jack... stop being childish!"
"Pitch was there, he was always there.
"I was stuck."
"He abused me."
"And where were you?"
"Prancing around, pretending that the world is perfect."
"It's not. It fucking not."
"The world is a mess."
"Be glad it didn't make you a mess too."
Before North could speak the young boy had started again.
"You want me to take my jumper off?"
"Well, I'll take my fucking jumper off" Jack screamed, tugging the blue material off his body and dropping it to the floor.
Tears welled in the bearded man's eyes.
"Don't you dare, fucking cry" Jack snarled.
"Jack, I'm..."
"Don't say you're sorry."
"You're not, you don't get to cry."
"You don't have the right."
Scars littered the winter spirit's body, his chest heaving with pain.
Blood ran down his forearm, forgotten as North scanned his body.
Jack smiled sadistically, turning slowly, making sure to give the man a good view of his scared, mangled back in the process.
It was the work of Pitch Black.
Lash and whip marks burnt his skin like hot oil and destroyed his flesh, leaving nothing but a hard shell on his back.
"Happy now?"
North turned away, covering his face and brushing back his hair as Jack grabbed his jumper and escaped down the hall, grabbing his staff from his room and leaving.
