Author's Note: This is a drabble I wrote on the Eve of Easter if honour of Sandman's temporary death. I hope you like it. I admit I rushed it a little bit, but I'm fairly satisfied.
Sandman turned flicking out his whip in every direction. The Nightmares had surrounded him in the sky but he continued to fight. One slash was all it took to dissipate one Nightmare. Eventually he'd work through them all, couldn't he? The other Guardians had been caught in their own battles. Sandy couldn't worry about that now. He had to keep fighting, keep whipping out with his sharp collections of sand. He turned again, his small arms jerking with all the power he had as his thin whips slashed and stung bursting Mares of black sand.
Then, the pain. The sharp, hard pain that slammed into his back. And for the first time in hundreds of years, the Sandman felt fear creeping into his heart. He turned, frightened eyes spying the King of Nightmares himself, standing on a cloud of ebony above him.
"Don't fight the fear, little man." Pitch looked on as their eyes met, a dark laugh rising from his chest. "I'd say sweet dreams, but there aren't any left." He watched as the Sandman's golden glow slowly started to fade as the dark fear took over him. The King of Nightmares felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Finally, after years of planning, he'd managed to defeat his strongest enemy.
Sandman fell forward the fear consuming him even more. He heard Pitch's cruel words. Each syllable striking more fear into his heart. Pain filled his body as he slowly lost himself. Finally, his glow disappeared amongst the chaotic swirl of ebony sand.
Sandman didn't know what happened or how, but he found himself surrounded by darkness and fear. He looked down only to find that his body was even masked by the dark. He couldn't see anything. It was as if he was blinded by his new fears. Screams of frightened children filled his ears. Sandy pressed the palms of his hands to the sides of his head hoping to muffle them. He felt nothing but fear. Fear, despair, sadness. The screams echoed off what Sandy assumed to be walls. Slowly he reached out and stepped forward. Shuffling across the ground, his feet felt as though he was walking on an unsteady surface. Something lined the ground, gritting along as he moved. A few steps later, Sandy found a solid wall. His hand pressed against the rough surface then pulled away. Grains of sand had pulled free in his palm. Sandy rubbed his fingers back and forth feeling the familiar, yet terrifying substance.
'Where am I?' His own voice in his mind frightened him. If only he could see, perhaps that would help. Yet what greeted him was more darkness, more fear, more silence. He heard a laugh echo towards him and turned quickly, his breathing raced his heart. It didn't sound dark, or evil, it sounded…happy. What could possibly be happy in a place like this? At first all Sandy saw was the dark, then slowly, a light appeared and raced towards him, taking him inside without a second's breath. He gasped at the flash, his eyes blinded by it. Sandy covered his face for several moments as the sound of laughter continued to assault him. Soon, his vision was stable and he looked around.
'What kind of place is this?' He thought as he looked around. A young girl ran towards him and for a moment, Sandy thought he was saved. Then, she ran straight through him, a cold pain wracked his body. He'd never been run through like that before. It terrified him. All those years, that's what Jack felt, that's what Pitch felt. Pitch…that's right. He'd been defeated by the Nightmare King. He remembered now.
"Daddy!" The little girl cried with excitement running towards the man in front of her.
"There you are!" The man exclaimed lifting her into his arms and holding her close. Sandman's eyes widened. It couldn't be…this…this was the Golden Age. That was General Pitchiner. Pitch…before he became consumed by the Fearlings and turned into what he was now.
Almost as fast as it had come, the vision disappeared and Sandman was consumed by another. He felt the fear, the terror as General Pitchiner chased after what he thought were his daughters kidnappers. Chasing after an illusion created soley to trap him. 'No!' Sandy screamed in his mind. Deafening himself with his own voice, Sandy's head felt like it split in two. "General don't!" His voice cried out again but too late. General Pitchiner couldn't hear him. It didn't matter. The Fearlings were upon him, changing him, consuming him with their terror and despair. Sandy felt the terror fill his very being. It was all he could do not to fall into their temptations as well. He felt tears sting his eyes, falling down his cheeks as he watched before everything went black again.
The darkness remained for what felt like an eternity. Moving, collapsing, hugging him tightly. Nothing he did seemed to release the pressure surrounding him. He didn't know how long he was there, nor what was going on in the battle against Pitch, without him. In the distance he saw a small light, glowing like the believers did on North's globe. He moved towards it, one arm outstretched. He walked step after step for what felt like years until finally he was able to touch the tiny golden light and suddenly, the darkness was gone. He felt warm, safe, protected. He looked around and found himself in some strange dream world. He heard a young boy's laugh and turned.
'Jamie Bennett.' He said watching as the boy laughed and played with the Guardians. A slight, golden glow touched the edges of his vision. 'Is this a dream?' He asked himself looking around again. He reached his hand towards a golden flicker and touched dream sand. But how was it possible? How did this dream exist? Could Jamie Bennett really have that strong a belief? Pulling from the remnants of dream sand that existed in the air. The cause of daydreams. Sandy felt a strength well up in him, his body changing once again, the golden glow regaining its luster all except for a tiny black spot near his heart. He tugged on his clothing to hide it.
He remained there, encased in Jamie's dream, its power and warmth filling him with the hope he so desired. He felt his own power slowly returning. He knew that eventually he'd be able to break free. He could feel the need the desire for dreams welling up inside him until it would burst. He could feel the power spread from within him, seeping out into the living world. He could feel the fear, then bravery filling Jamie's dream. He closed his eyes, letting the power well up inside him. He breathed in then felt an explosion of power, of hope and desire. It spread fast and furious, consuming all the darkness in its path until he himself, the Sandman rose from the dark, facing none other than Pitch Black.