Protector of Lost Children

| CHAPTER XVII |

Hello, Readers! I know that this chapter has taken a long time to come and I know that it is probably not what you guys wanted, but I've had trouble with this story lately. It's been so long since I've seen the show, and my interest has drained, so it's really hard for me to get into the character's heads and write them "in character".

~CSP2708~

| Chapter 17 || Regrouping |

Waking up wasn't the hard part. No. Not for Lupa. She'd been in and out of consciousness for almost an hour already, catching flashes of what was going on around her, but never enough for her tired brain to turn them into a scene. It was easy, after being lucid for so long, top finally open her eyes, sit up, and look around.

The hard part was seeing the guardians strewn around her, all on the floor, all in various levels of pain with various injuries. What had happened? When she'd passed out and had her crazy dream, they'd all been fine. Had she done this to them? Was Pitch still controlling her?

No.

Her brain stopped that path of thought because she knew for a fact – if the feeling of a growing bruise was anything to go by – that she'd been on the couch the whole time with a massive hard lump pressing into her spine. How did Jack miss the elf bell that was left behind on the piece of upholstery when he put her down?

At that thought, Lupa's mind wandered back to her dream. Pitch had been good. He'd been her father. It used to be his job to capture the Fearlings, but then...they possessed him. He killed them – her and her sister, that is.

After that, she must've woken up as Lupa, the spirit of the wild and protector of lost children. Come to think of it, what was her name from before? She knew that it must've been mentioned – had it? – but for the life of her, she couldn't remember. Emily had kept her name. Maybe she remembered that much. Maybe the Moon had just told her what her name was, too, and he just happened to tell her what it was from before.

Coming out of her reverie, Lupa stood, her bare feet feeling the coldness of the floor. She looked down. Jack was right near her feet, drooling, and his drool had created...not a puddle, but a mini ice rink at the base of the couch.

Lupa smiled. It was cute. Squatting, she reached her slim fingers out and brushed her hand against his shoulder – gently at first, but after a few seconds, she shook him so that he was basically having a seizure.

"Wake up!" she shouted at him, not feeling sympathetic at all since he didn't appear to have any outward injuries that extended further than his half-swollen face. It would easily heal, over time. He just needed some...ice.

Finally, Jack's body startled, and he looked up, staring at her with one wide eye and one squinted eye, which made her wince. It may heal quickly, but it still looked bad. There was a trail of frost on the side of his face where his drool had forged its path to the floor.

"Lupa... What-? Where-? Pitch...?" he mumbled, his voice sounding as if his tongue had doubled in size.

"Shh," she soothed, kneeling next to him. She placed a hand on his cheek, her fingers brushing, feather-light, over his face.

Jack squinted up at her, his lips flapping – goldfish-like – for a moment. He groaned, letting his head fall back, supported only by her other hand, which kept it hovering only slightly above the wooden floorboards.

"What happened with Pitch?" he asked, his words much less jumbled this time, thankfully.

She was about to answer when a fluttering caught her attention. Tooth was waking up. Immediately leaving Jack's side in favour of the delicate fairy, Lupa helped her friend sit up, and brought her over to the couch. Tooth was half walking and half flying, but she was leaning completely on Lupa's body for support.