AN- Sorry if there is any confusion! The first time I uploaded this, it was all out of shape and you couldn't read it!

Pitch closed the script, as they pulled through a shining gate, marking the page in his head. He didn't need to look out the window to admire the sprawling grounds and the towering mansion. He saw it every day after all. When the limousine pulled to a stop, a man quickly rushed forward to open the door, and he stepped out, straightening his jacket.

"Good afternoon, sir." The slightly balding man gave a small bow of his head.

"Good afternoon, Jeromy. Are the medical supplies Tooth called ahead for ready?"

"Yes, sir. They're in the spare bedroom."

"Very well. Thank you, Jeromy." Pitch turned back to the car, helping Tooth out and looking at the teenager still inside. "Are you coming in, Jackson?"

"Huh?" Jack grunted. He was gaping at everything around him. It was amazing! They had a fountain. A freaking fountain!

"Are you going to come inside, or are you going to sit in the car and keep gaping?"

"Maybe," Jack replied, only half joking. "As long as I get to play in that fountain, I'm happy."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Why play in a fountain, when there's a perfectly good pool? But you'll be playing in neither until my brother sees to your leg."

"A fountain is fun, too! A pool would be nice... Wait, I have to wait that long? Come on, I'm sure the water will help my leg." Jack joked as he lifted himself gently out of the limo.

"My brother will be the judge of that. You will have to wait for him to arrive. Now, come along, before I decide to just leave you out here." Kozmotis turned to the house, heading inside, Jeromy holding the door open for them all.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever." he limped after them, struggling to keep up. "No need to be so fast. I'm not dying," he grumbled.

Pitch didn't answer, but he did slow down slightly. They walked through the grand entryway, where he removed his coat, handing it to Jeromy. Before he could go any further, a flash of yellow on the stairs caught his attention. Looking up, he watched a stout blonde man slide down the curving bannister of the staircase with a grin. "Ah, Sanderson. I didn't know you had arrived yet." He couldn't hold back a small smile at the sight of his younger brother.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was ordered not to tell you. He wanted to surprise you." Jeromy explained with a smile. Everyone who worked in the house had a soft spot for the boss's brother.

"Don't worry about it, Jeromy. I'm sure he had a reason for wanting to. No?" The taller sibling turned to see his brother with a big grin on his face still, shaking his head. Sanderson's hand started moving quickly, making signs to communicate to him and Pitch nodding his head in understanding. The smaller man moved forward, wrapping his brother in a tight hug, despite the other's obvious discomfort with the physical contact.

Tooth watched the encounter with a small giggle, understanding the little man as well. "It looks like the children are still rubbing off on you, huh, Sandy?" He nodded eagerly, moving over to hug her as well. It wasn't until after he pulled away that he finally noticed the teen behind them, his hands asking who he was.

"Ah, yes. Sanderson, I know you are here for just a family visit, but would you mind taking a look at the boy's leg?" He watched the little blonde eagerly nod his head, agreeing to check it out.

"Uh, hi. I'm Jack," he said, trying his best not to stare at the man. He was incredibly short compared to his brother, almost as short as himself. "Y'know, you really don't have to fix my leg. If I could have some bandages, or something, that would be great."

Sandy took one look at the bloody towel Jack was still holding to his leg and shook his head emphatically. He shot wordless questions at his brother one after the other, and Pitch answered them. "He didn't say how he got it. Yes, we have all the supplies you will need. Yes, sutures too." When the blonde finally finished, the elder of the two gave a sigh of relief. "Oh, yes. I should probably introduce the two of you. Sanderson, meet Jackson. Jackson, this is my younger brother, Sanderson Mansnoozie. I'm sure it's clear now, but Sanderson is a mute. He can hear and understand us just fine, but he can't talk. So that's why he uses sign language." Sandy moved forward, holding his hand out to the teen with a comforting smile.

Jack gave a small smile and shook his hand. Something about this guy was more comforting than most. Despite his earlier thoughts, Jack knew this guy wouldn't hurt him, at least not intentionally. "Hey, call me Jack." He sent a meaningful glance at Pitch.

The dark haired man simply rolled his eyes. "How about we just get that leg yours all fixed up, Jackson? If you'll follow me..." Pitch left the grand entryway and turned down a long corridor to the downstairs guest bedrooms. He opened the door and led them inside. All of the medical supplies were laid out neatly on the desk and the bed had been covered with extra linen sheets. Pitch looked to his brother to translate for him, closing the door after the other two had come in. "Jackson, go ahead and sit on the bed." Sandy went to the desk to gather what he needed.

Jack hoisted himself onto the bed. He pulled his left leg up and slowly peeled back the towel. "Ew," he commented. The towel was now soaked and was sticking to him. The bite was now just a bloody, sticky mess. "I've never had an injury that bad before. Well, last year I broke my arm, but there wasn't much I could do about that. It wasn't so bad."

"Perhaps you should learn to be more careful and you wouldn't keep getting hurt." At his brother's orders, Pitch grabbed a pair of scissors and went to the bed, cutting the fabric of Jack's pants around the wound. "How did you get this, Jackson?"

"Hey, it wasn't my fault! The thing with my arm, I was being chased by a stupid gang. Don't ask me why, I have no idea. They caught up with me and..." Jack shook his head. "So, the gash, right? Well, about a week ago, I was walking past this bakery. It smelled so nice. So I, uh, well, I borrowed some rolls from there. Anyway, so on my way back to my hide out, there was this dog. A big, stray mutt, it was. He started growling and then he ran at me! We tussled a bit, before I realised that he was after the bread." Jack half-smiled. "I guess he was as hungry as I was. Then he ran off with them, but not before he bit me. And that was it."

Pitch nodded, tossing away the scraps of cloth he was cutting off. "Are you almost ready, Sanderson?" The blonde at the desk nodded, signing something to him. "He says he's going to numb the area for you first, so you don't feel anything." Sandy came over with a syringe, approaching him but not using it yet, unsure of how the teen would react.

"Uh," Jack started to back up. "Is that a needle? That's a needle. That's a big, ugly needle. I do not like it. There is no way you're putting that in me. I can handle the pain, thank you very much."

Sandy looked at him, worriedly signing to the older man. "Are you sure? He says it could end up hurting quite a lot without doing this. And he doesn't want you to accidentally move while he's working."

Jack glared. "I'll be fine. I've handled worse."

"Alright then." Sandy took the syringe back to the desk and came back with everything he needed to clean the wound.

Jack closed his eyes tightly. Despite his big talk, he still was dreading this. 'Here we go.' he thought.

Line Break

Sandy sat back with a sigh of relief. Nineteen stitches and a little squirming from the teen later and it was all finished. While he went to go clean up all of his materials, he left his brother to bandage the area.

Pitch took up the scissors again, cutting off the entire pant leg. Before the teen could complain, though, he said, "I will have Tooth find you another pair." The dark man rolled up his sleeves another fold before starting. He put some gauze down on the parts of the wound so bad as to require stitches, and then he started to wrap the bandage around Jack's leg. "Are you still hungry? I'm sure Tooth has gotten North to cook you up something by now."

Jack grinned. "I'm starving! I don't think I've eaten in...I think about a week? I'm not sure. What's he cooking? Don't worry, I'm not allergic to anything, probably."

"Then I will go get North." The man finished bandaging Jack's leg, and he stood up, heading towards the door. Pitch made his way through his house towards the kitchen. When he opened the door, he was pleased to see that Tooth had told North to prepare a meal after all. He was met by a big smile from his chef.

"Good afternoon, sir. Toothy told me ya have a guest and that he be hungry. I hope ya don't mind that I made a few things for him?" North tossed a few more ingredients into a frying pan.

"Of course I don't mind. In fact, I was coming to tell you to do exactly that." He turned to his assistant, who was sitting on a still watching the man cook. "Tooth, could you please find a new pair of pants for the boy? We had to cut up his old ones to reach the wound."

"Of course, sir. Any particular type?" She stood up.

"Not particularly. Just make sure that they would be loose fitting on him, because of the bandages. We can find him a new pair later on once the swelling has gone down and the bandages can be removed."

"Very well, sir." Tooth left the room, dialing a number on her phone.

Pitch grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. "The boy is in the first spare room down stairs. Bring the food when it's done, please."

"Yes, sir." North watched his boss leave the kitchen, quickly turning back to his cooking.

Jack knocked hesitantly on the door of the kitchen. He knew that they told him to wait and rest in his room, but he was so hungry! Besides, he was just going to sneak some food, they shouldn't be too mad. 'I wonder what the cook is like?' Jack slowly opened the door and sneaked in, crouching low. Jack jumped as a loud hum filled the air. Hiding behind a table covered in flour and cake mix, Jack peaked out to see a huge man bent over in front of him. It wasn't a nice view.

North continued his cooking, at first unaware of the teen's presence, as he hummed along to the music he was playing as he worked.

Jack grinned, noticing the box of cake mix next the cook's elbow. There were sure to be chocolate buttons in there! But how could he get the big man away? 'There!' Over on the other side of the room, the oven was cooking a loaf of bread. Jack quickly glanced at the cook, before creeping over towards it. He hid behind a small stand that was holding several bowls. That was one good thing about being skinny, he could fit in or behind small spaces easily.

Jack slowly stretched his arm out towards the oven's heat dial and turned it up a few -or maybe ten- notches, before snatching his arm back and sneaking back to the table.

Can you write North smelling burned bread or something? Just to get North ver to the oven. I'm going to write what happens after that now.

'Yes!' Jack cheered in his brain. He snuck up and grabbed the box of cake mix.

"And what do you think you are doing?" A deep voice askedhim, scaring the hell out of Jack. He yelped as his wrist was grabbed and forced him to face the huge cook. Jack glanced fearfully up and his eyes connected with clear blue ones. But they weren't harsh or cold, they were warm and had a certain spark to them. It was then that Jack realised that the hand that was holding his wrist was gentle. "Uh, I was just... I didn't mean to..." Jack sighed and hung his head. There was just no getting out of this situation.

His head snapped up and he glared. If he couldn't lie to get himself out of it, he might as well defend himself, at least a little. "I'm sorry, alright? I was hungry!" Jack inwardly cringed at how pathetic his excuse was, but he wasn't going to show it.

The cook -North, he remembered overhearing- just grinned cheerfully and let go of his wrist. "It's fine. Yah know, I was making ya food right now." He said in a wiryvoice as he turned back to his cooking. "Is there anything you'd like to eat in particular?"

Jack blinked. "Uh, no, not really."

"Not even chocolate buttons?" North asked casually. He grinned as Jack blushed, before bursting out laughing. "It's okay, I've done that heaps of times myself!"

Jack laughed too. "I guess most of us have."

"Oh, by the way, were you the one who turned up the dial on the oven?" North asked suddenly.

Jack flushed. "Uh, no! I don't even know which one I'd need to switch!' He lied hastily. As if he was going tell someone as big as the cook, no matter how friendly he seemed that he was the one who had ruined his hard work. Jack wasn't sure how long it took to bake bread, but it must of taken a while.

North stopped what he was doing and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Lying, too? I think someone is being added to my naughty list." he said, pulling out an old, leather bound notebook.

"N-naughty list?" Jack stared at him, wide-eyed. "What's the naughty list?"

"Naughty list is people I must keep eye on while in my kitchen. And they're favorite snacks so I know what to bribe them with." North chuckled, pulling out a pen. "What is your name, boy?"

Jack swallowed nervously. "Uh, Jack, just Jack."

"Ahhh." The big man scribbled the name in his book along with the words "chocolate chips." He closed the notebook with a laugh, putting it back away. "Food will be done soon. Tell me, do you like potatoes?"

Jack blinked. What the Hell? Why wasn't he being punished? He had just been caught trying to steal food, but the very large man was laughing and asking what kind of food he liked? 'This place is getting even weirder...'

"Uh, I like any kind of food, I guess." Jack bit his lip to stop himself from adding that he liked ice cream. "Erm, anyway, I should go back to my room now."

Jack shook his head, shocked that he had forgotten his place. He was a child, and he had burned food and had tried to steal from an adult.

Scrambling around for a cloth, Jack began to scrub up the mess that North's cooking had created. He forced himself not to cringe as his frenzied movement aggravated the wound in his leg. All the while North watched him with a raised eyebrow.

'What is with this kid?' North thought anxiously. First, Jack had been a normal kid just trying to nick a snack. But the way he had looked at North when he had mock gripped his wrist, the fear in his eyes... North shuddered. He did not want to think of what could have caused Jack to react that way. And now he was cleaning as if his life depended on it. "Why are you cleaning, Jack? That is my job."

Jack frowned. "Well, I should be doing chores, y'know, for paying everyone back for looking after me. And how else am I going to earn my keep? I'd be thrown out if I didn't! ...Shouldn't I clean? Oh, do you want me to wash dishes?" Jack blushed as he realised that he had assumed he would be staying here for a while. 'Like they would want a dirty street brat like you living in their home. You're disgusting, how dare you even breathe the same air as them!' A voice inside his head sneered at him. "Shut up." Jack muttered.

"Did Mr. Black say anything about you having to work to stay?" He watched the teen shake his head. "Then you do not have to earn your keep, boy." The big man chuckled. "Now sit in the chair. Food is ready."

"Um, okay. Sir!" Jack added quickly, sitting down.

North laughed, setting down a plate piled high with baked potatoes in front of the teenager. "Would you like drink?"

Jack gaped. "Woah, that food's mine, right?" He grinned, before answering the question. "Um, water, maybe?"

"Yes. Food is yours. Why else would I set in front of you?" He went to the fridge and filled up a cup of water for Jack, setting it in front of him.

Pitch walked into the kitchen, strolling straight over to the fridge. "Good afternoon, North. I see you've met Jackson. He hasn't caused you any trouble has he?"

"Not at all. Has been perfect angel." He winked at the teenager, picking up a green apple from the fruit basket and tossing it to his boss.

The dark man caught it without even breaking his stride. Over the years, the two had done the same thing so many times it just became natural. Pitch took out some sort of vitamin drink from the fridge, holding the apple with his teeth. He turned back to the teenager, leaning against the counter and finishing his bite of the fruit. "Tooth should have you a new pair of pants soon."

"Oh, no it's okay. You don't need to do anything else for me." Jack said quickly. "Besides, it's not like I've done anything for you."

"I'm not doing this because I expect you to do anything for me, Jackson." Pitch looked down at the teen's dirty, bare feet. "What size shoe are you, anyway?"

'Why are you doing this?' Jack wondered, before blushing as he realised how dirty and lost he must look compared to Pitch and his freakishly clean home. "Uh, I'm not sure. The last shoes I had died a few years ago. Literally, they died. They were burned... It's a long story."

Pitch stroked his chin for a moment, guesstimating the size of Jack's feet. "I'd say you're about a 9 or 10. I'll have Tooth grab a few pairs for you to try on as well."

"Oh, thank you, but you really don't need to. I'll be leaving soon anyway, there's no need to be so nice to me. I just want to play in that fountain before I leave."

"Don't be silly. You're not going anywhere until my brother says it's alright to with that leg of yours." He took a sip of his protein drink.

"Wait, do you mean I'm stuck here!?" Jack felt panic swirl in his chest. They were keeping him here? Why!? Were they really kidnappers!? They were nice and all, but they were still strangers.

Jack forced himself to breath deeply. No, they were not kidnappers. They had just fixed his leg. Calm down. Besides, being stuck in a huge mansion -with a fountain, by the way- wasn't so bad, right?

"Until Sandy has deemed your leg well enough for you to be off on your own, yes, you are stuck here. As soon as he has cleared you, you'll be free to go whenever you wish."

"Oh," Jack huffed and crossed his arms. "I'm grateful, really, but I still want to know why you are doing this. I mean, you can't just be doing this out of the goodness of your heart. There's gotta be some hidden agenda." Jack narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

Pitch sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Yes, I may seem like a heartless and cruel man. And yes, I have no love for children. But I do have compassion, Jackson. I was not going to let a child continue to wander the streets with a wound like yours."

"So, if a kid was just wondering around the streets, but without a giant dog bite, you'd just let them go and probably starve to death? Wow, such compassion." Jack sighed and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just a little tired."

"No. You meant it, Jackson." Pitch grabbed another apple for himself and walked towards the door. "I will see the two of you at dinner tonight. It's time for me to get an infusion." The dark man left the kitchen.

Jack winced at Pitch's tone. He hadn't meant to upset the guy, he was just frustrated! The nightmares had been keeping him up for a while... Wait, what did he say? "Uh, what is he infusing? It doesn't sound healthy, or safe..."

North chuckled. "I cannot tell you the boss's business. But I can say that it is not drugs like you may think." He held up another plate. "You want more?"

"No, thank you." Jack answered. His curiosity was aroused as he pondered over Pitch's 'infusion'. What was it? Was there something wrong with him? Despite what North said, maybe he was a drug addict. But North didn't seem the type to lie, or tolerate drugs. Well, if Jack was going to stay here for a while, he was going to find out what that was! Who cares if it wasn't his business?

The big man shrugged, packing up the leftover food. "I will leave it here. If you get hungry before dinner, it will be in fridge, okay?"

"Okay, thanks. I think I'd better go back to the... my room." Jack smiled at the thought of having his own room again. He shuffled out of the kitchen and down the hall. He had just made it halfway when he realised that he had no idea where he was going.

"Damn it, why is this place so big? It's not like there are that many people here." He muttered. His eyes lit up when he noticed a door open slightly. He could faintly hear two voices arguing with each other. Sneaking as quietly as he could with his leg, Jack crouched just besides it. Now he could hear both men perfectly.

"I need new tools already!" One of them yelled. Jack frowned a little over his voice; something was wrong with it.

"Again? Have you already broken the tools that I just bought?" Another, smoother voice said. Jack quickly recognised that voice as Pitch's. "And they were a replacement, too. That was only a month ago."

"It's not my bloody fault!" There it was again! Maybe it was an accent? A weird one at that. "Someone, and I won't say who, borrowed my new tools and left them out in the rain! Now they're completely covered in rust."

Jack heard Pitch sigh. "Don't worry, I'll buy new ones. Oh, before you leave, I have to tell you about our new guest."

"New guest? You mean Sandy? You're a little late."

"No, I mean Jackson," Jack hissed as he overheard his name. "He-"

"Jackson? Who the hell's Jackson?" The rough accented voice interrupted. Maybe he was British? Nah, it was too rough.

"Jackson is a boy that I found wounded on the street early this afternoon. He'll be staying with us until his leg heals."

"Wounded? What happened to him?" Ugh, what was his accent!? Jack knew this!

"I think he should tell you that himself. Anyway, I suggest that you keep a close eye on your shed. Jackson doesn't seem too bright, but I have a suspicion that he has a fondness for jokes."

"Well, if he touches me shed, I'll rip the bugga a new one!" Australian! Obviously!

Jack could practically hear the smirk in Pitch's voice. "Of course, I won't be standing in your way. Anyway, shouldn't you be getting back to your vegetable garden?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. My carrots are almost finished growing anyway." Jack quickly scrambled back as he heard someone, probably the Australian, thump towards the door. Panicked, Jack whipped one of the elegant curtains that hung at every window around him and held his breath as the man strode past him. He had only gotten a glimpse of curly brown hair.

'I wonder who this guy is? And what was so bad about messing with a shed...?' Jack grinned, another mystery he would have to solve. This was getting fun!

Jack slid out from behind the curtain and shuffled around the corner. He groaned as he thought of his current mystery; where the Hell was he?

"Oh, hello, Jack. I was just looking for you." Tooth looked up from her phone with a smile. "I have a new pair of pants for you and a few pair of shoes for you to try."

"Oh, shoes... Thanks, I guess." Jack scrunched his nose. He wasn't a big fan of shoes, his last pair always scrunched his feet together. That and both of his feet seemed to be different sizes from each other, and no size fit twice. This was going to be a little tough.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but the shoes probably won't fit. My feet are really weird."

"Don't be silly. That's why I brought a few different sizes so we can find one that fits."

"Oh, okay." Jack was a little surprised by her efficiency. As he sorted through the pairs of shoes, he asked her "You seem really nice, and happy. If you don't mind me asking, how did you end up working for a guy like Pitch?"

"You think he's a jerk, don't you? That he's just some rich guy who flaunts some money to get what he wants?" Tooth laughed. "But that's not what he's really like, I promise. He's actually a very thoughtful person. He runs the house firmly but not unfairly."

"A very thoughtful person? That's not what I'd say to describe him, but you do know him much better than me. And he did help me, so I guess he isn't all bad." Jack shrugged. "These shoes feel okay."

She smiled, handing him the pair of pants. "He's just a very private person. He rarely let's anybody close enough to really get to know him."

"Thanks," Jack said, taking the pants. "I guess I'll have to try and get to know him. Oh, uh," Jack blushed "Can you tell me where I'm staying? I'm a bit lost."

"Of course. It's right down this hallway." Tooth led him down the corridors to the room where they had taken care of his leg. The bed had been made properly now and all of Sanderson's medical supplies had been removed. "Here you are."

"Thank you, really, thanks! This is amazing! This room is huge. Seriously, there is a waterbed, in my own room!"

"It's only a guest room, Jack. This is nowhere near as grand as the actual decorated rooms." She chuckled, setting his bags down on top of the desk.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "A guest room? Wow, I can't imagine what the decorated rooms would look like." He laughed. "Honestly, I'd be more than happy just sleeping in the basement of this place!" His smile faded. "I'm not really going to have to sleep in the basement, am I?"

"No, no. Of course not. This will be where you sleep until you're all better." Tooth took out a few pair of pants from the bags and set them out on the bed. "I wasn't too sure what kind you would like or what your size was so I picked up a few choices. Are any of them alright for you?"

"Yeah, they look fine, thanks. I'll have to try them on, so..." Jack motioned slightly towards the door and blushed faintly.

"Oh! Of course. Just come find me if you need anything else. If you get lost, you can ask any of the employees and they can point you in the right direction. I hope your leg feels better, Jack." With a smile, Tooth ducked out of the room.

Jack left the pants on the corner of the bed. He would try them on later. Jack collapsed on the bed and smiled. 'I think I'm going to like it here.'