When Jack woke up the next morning, it was to see telltale golden sand scattered around his bed, on his bed, on his clothes. Jack took one look at it and paled. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to think straight. Just because Sandy's dreamsand had been there didn't mean he had. Didn't mean he'd screwed with Jack's brain once again.

"This is real," he murmured to himself. "This is real." He pinched himself hard, focused on the pain and let it ground him. "This is real. I'm real."

He glanced around once more, memorizing every detail. No matter how much Sandy tried, a dream was never perfect. If he found the smallest inconsistency...

A knock on the door. Jack jumped, practically skidding off the bed. He clutched at the blankets and mumbled, "Come in."

Tooth fluttered in, giving him a smile. "Good morning, Sweet Tooth!"

Jack's stomach sank into his legs. His knuckles whitened around the covers.

"How are you feeling?" she rambled on. "I'm sorry I haven't come to see you lately; tooth collecting's not an easy job, after all!"

He felt tears prick his eyes as words, sentences came to his head. All from her mouth. Bunny and North hurt, that was true. But physical pain could be eased with ice or painkiller, could be increased or decreased according to Jack's wishes. He had control over that kind of pain. The pain Tooth brought...

"Jack? Sweet Tooth? Are you alright?"

He shook his head, meaning it to be disbelieving, but soon found he couldn't stop. "No," he muttered, then repeated the word louder. "No, you don't get to do this to me. You- you don't get to- to do everything you have, to say the things you have, and then just come in here and- and act like it never happened!" He couldn't quite bring himself to look Tooth in the eye, but the anger in his tone remained unabated. "You can't do that!" Another sentence resounded through his mind, one he didn't have the courage to say. How dare you come in here and do this to me?

"Jack, I- what are you talking about?"

Fury began to seep out of Jack, lowering the temperature of the air surrounding him. How dare Tooth pretend not to know what he was talking about. How dare she act like everything was normal, like she hadn't lowered him to depression, to despair, to self-hatred so bad he'd contemplated killing himself. How dare she.

But still, those words refused to come from his mouth. He knew that even his current injuries wouldn't save him from the wrath that insult would earn him.

"Jack, sweetie, please talk to me. I need to know what happened."

Sweetie? She had the nerve to call him... Jack's jaw clenched along with his hands, the pain from the aching cuts and bruises and burns covering the skin going completely ignored. For the first time in months he allowed vicious, terrible hatred to well up inside him. Not just for Tooth herself, but for what she'd done to him; for those poisoned, sharp-tipped words that had cut into him and torn him apart, slowly. He hated her. He hated what she'd done to him. And she had the audacity to stand there and act like nothing was wrong. Like he was the one with the problem.

And for the first time, he found himself wishing for his staff, but not to escape. Not to harness the wind and fly away, or use ice to heal wounds or break a lock. No. He wanted his staff...

He wanted his staff in order to hurt Tooth like she'd hurt him.

Parts of him rebelled against the thought, but he let the angrier part win, the part which murmured three centuries of abandonment; three years of far worse. He felt himself begin to shake from anger he'd suppressed for too long.

No, some part of him whispered, trying to sway him. You don't have your staff, and even if you did, you're badly injured. If you attacked her and didn't win...

He shuddered.

And, he thought with an inward grimace, there's Bunny and North and...and Sandy too. Even if I could...

His anger calmed, turning cool and stable once more. Tooth was watching him carefully, not even a hint of that malice and cunning he knew had to be hidden there somewhere.

"Jack?"

He took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how Sandy was playing this: if they were expecting him to come running into their arms and trust them immediately. He knew already that no matter what they said, what they did, he would never trust them. It made Jack wonder if Sandy was foolish for thinking Jack would ever trust them, or if the Sandman was that confident in his powers. But surely even dreams had their limits.

Tooth took a step closer to the bed; Jack instinctively shrank backwards, then instantly regretted it as he waited for Tooth to laugh, to hiss a mocking comment about his weakness. But she just looked at him with an expression Jack refused to read.

"What do you want?" he asked, a little harsher than he'd intended. "Ma'am?"

Tooth's step forward became a reflexive one back. "'Ma'am'?"

He could scarcely rein his annoyance in enough to keep his sarcastic comment to himself. "I'm...healing. I have food. I...I'll be back to work soon."

"Work? You mean...your work as Spirit of Winter?"

Again, that irritation he strained to master. "You forbade me from doing my duties as Spirit of Winter two years ago, after I screwed up so terribly I needed to be kept under supervision from then on. Remember?"

"Jack...Sweet Tooth, no, that- that didn't happen."

Jack clenched his fists, angry enough he didn't bother trying to hide the motion. As long as he didn't go too far, he knew he could play the 'severely injured' card if Tooth decided to get physical. And if she didn't...

Well...

It wasn't anything he hadn't already heard before, anyway.

"It did happen," Jack ground out, cursing himself for the quake in his tone that revealed his apprehension in talking back to the Guardian. "It did happen. I did become a Guardian three years ago. I did get cast from my job by you. Those things- they did happen. You can't convince me otherwise, okay?" Jack's voice had risen higher, dangerously high. He was faintly surprised Tooth hadn't snapped yet, but decided she was biding her time for whatever reason. "I know it happened, and I won't let you try to tell me it didn't!"

"Jack..." Tooth's expression was impossible to read, even if he'd wanted to read it in the first place. "I know it's hard to believe, but Pitch...we think he brainwashed you into thinking we did this to you."

Liar, he thought with a silent hiss, not daring enough to say it out loud. You liar. He just glared at the floor, knowing that lifting his gaze would be a challenge but not glaring at all would be seen as acceptance- as losing the battle. Jack had not lost. He would not give into whatever mind game Sandy was playing with him.

There was a long silence. Tooth finally broke it by asking, "Is there anything I can get for you? I know North always has milk around...it's about the only thing he has that's good for your beautiful teeth."

Jack continued staring at the floor, marking the cracks between each stone. At least Tooth's obsession with teeth hadn't changed- or her obsession with his teeth in particular. She'd often said that was the only good part of him; that he didn't deserve such beautiful teeth when he was such a disgrace.

"Or...are you hungry? Cookies really aren't the best thing to eat but I'm sure I could get the yetis to make something in the kitchens! Oh, are you thirsty? When's the last time you had something to drink? Or..." Tooth rambled on, obviously on edge or nervous about something. Jack vaguely wondered if something bad had happened at the Tooth Palace, but if so, why would she be here? He knew she couldn't possibly be nervous because of him. Or, perhaps Bunny had threatened her again?

"Oh, I'm sorry Jack! I do ramble on sometimes..." she trailed off awkwardly, apparently only just sensing that Jack hadn't paid attention to her at all for several minutes. He debated cringing away and asking forgiveness for not listening, but depending on the day, that could just make it worse. He decided not to risk it and bowed his head, waiting for either dull fists or sharp words to be thrown at him.

Nothing.

When Tooth finally spoke, her tone was timid, almost. That emotion was so far from Jack's knowledge of her, her words hardly even registered for several seconds. "Um...would you like me to leave? Am I...bothering you?" Then, softer, "I just want to help you, Jack. We all do. But you... you won't say anything. You won't trust us."

You won't trust us. Jack concealed a triumphant smirk. So he was right; that was their ploy. They wanted to gain his trust just so they could shatter it with their vicious smiles and brutal fists. "Of course you're not bothering me, ma'am," he said swiftly, politely in the hopes his words would be enough. "Uh...I'm fine now. You can...leave. If you want, of course."

Tooth shifted nervously. Jack assumed she nodded, for she said, "O-okay. I'll, um, see you soon. I'll make sure you get something to eat, okay?"

"Thank you, ma'am."

She laughed, just as nervously. "Uh, you're- you're welcome. But you, uh, you don't have to call me ma'am or anything like that! You could...you can just call me Tooth. Okay?"

"Yes, Tooth." Obey orders. Don't step out of line.

"Right. I'll- I'll be going now. I'll send someone to check on you soon!" He saw her feet move off the ground; heard her wing-beats take her all the way to the door, then out. She closed the door behind her.

With a groan, Jack settled back into his bed once more. These were going to be some long next couple of weeks.

The next few days passed by in much the same manner. One or more of the Guardians would drop by to see him every day, or sometimes a few times a day. Phil the Yeti brought him food. Other yetis monitored his healing process, but Jack allowed no one except himself to change his bandages- to touch him in any way. He could tell the yetis weren't pleased about it, but after Jack had thrown a frosty shield around himself they gave up.

He'd nearly passed out from the effort of using that much magic without losing control (without his staff, he could use only small bits of his powers without accidentally unleashing a blizzard), but at least...at least he didn't have to put up with the yetis anymore.

One thing that was odd was that Jack had yet to see Sandy. He'd seen the other three Guardians quite often over the last week; North he saw every day at least once, Bunny and Tooth every other or every few days. Sandy, however, he'd yet to see once. Although he was quite grateful he didn't have to deal with the fourth Guardian when he was still quite injured, weak, and basically imprisoned inside the infirmary, it made him even more suspicious and distrustful of him. What could Sandy be doing that he thought was more important than keeping up their nice little game of pretend? Jack knew quite well Sandy was an excellent actor, so...

The yeti who'd been checking over his heart-rate and other such vitals bustled out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Jack alone. Once he was sure the yeti wasn't coming back (he really needed to learn that one's name at some point, seeing as Phil was the only one he knew by name), he reached under his bed and brought out a sketchbook and a set of graphite pencils.

Bunny had given them to him three days ago, saying that Jack must've missed being able to draw and that all his supplies had been thrown out or broken. Although making up an entire hobby for Jack to have done was quite a step, Jack had accepted the materials anyway. Partially out of fear, of course, but partially because...well, he'd always wanted to draw. He'd spent much of his lonely three centuries crafting ice crystals and snowflakes, making each as unique as possible. The idea of actually putting his ideas onto something permanent, long-lasting, something that wouldn't melt when touched by a ray of sun...it was very appealing.

So he'd taken the paper and pencils from the Guardian and he'd been drawing ever since. As unused as he was to graphite on paper, his first drawings were honestly not the best. But Jack hadn't let it discourage him and had kept drawing, that one task occupying most of his time throughout the past few days. He'd painstakingly created a pencil-sharpener out of ice the day before when his pencils had gotten so blunt there wasn't any point left. Now, with perfectly sharpened pencils, he set to work once more.

First, he'd drawn snowflake after snowflake, wanting to create as many designs as possible. But that had gotten old after the first few hours, so he'd gone from snowflakes to ice sculptures to glittering snowfalls in Antarctica. Now, he bit his lip and tried to remember what a penguin looked like. It had been several years since he'd seen once last, and drawing from memory wasn't the easiest, but he sketched a rough outline and slowly added details in. The feathers were what he remembered best, so he took his time there, smiling a little bit as he added shading and it began to actually look like a penguin.

Jack winced, redirecting his gaze to the too-long bill. Well, at least the feathers did.

He erased the beak and closed his eyes. What did penguins' beaks look like? He couldn't remember. As water birds, they had to be longer than, say, hawks, but how long? He tried shortening it and frowned. Erased it. Tried widening it and sighed, shook his head. Erased it again.

So caught up in his drawing was Jack that he didn't even notice a soft knock at the door. Didn't even notice when the knock sounded again, slightly louder. Or again. Still didn't notice when the knob turned and the door opened.

But when Sandy walked in, glowing like the night sky he was rumored to have once traveled through, Jack slowly turned his head. And stiffened.

Sandy's face was...apologetic? He made a few symbols above his head. Jack had learned early on to read the symbols out of fear of more punishment, so he easily got what the Sandman was trying to say. I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep.

Jack said nothing. He shrank a little farther back, skin pressing against the wall his bed was set against. The heart monitor began beeping faster, matching Jack's heartbeat. No. He clenched his hands into fists, felt his heart pump faster, faster, faster. No. No please no please no no no no...

At some point, he realized he must have been saying the words out loud because Sandy's expression changed, but Jack didn't bother deciphering it, just shut his mouth and stared straight at Sandy- not his eyes, but his hands. Jack thought about begging, but his heart was racing faster still, his breathing racing with it, his chest starting to heave and he couldn't- he couldn't look at Sandy, couldn't take it anymore, not when he was injured and hurt and weak and scared, no terrified, he was terrified, he was- was-

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Jack jerked violently, too panicked to realize the touch had been gentle, not harsh, nor that Sandy's eyes were concerned- no, false, fake, he wasn't concerned, he'd never been concerned before, why would he start now- and Jack scooted off the bed, ripped out the IVs, lurched to his feet, backed away from the Guardian. Please please please please don't do it don't do it I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorryI'msorrypleasedon'tdoitI'm-

Symbols were flying wildly above Sandy's head, and the sight of the dreamsand sent Jack flying further into his terror. He began to back away, inching towards the door he'd never been out of, the door he knew would get him in trouble for stepping out of, but maybe trouble didn't mean Sandy- Sandy meant fear and notrealnotrealnotrealNOTREAL-

Words were flying out of Jack's mouth at a rate he couldn't comprehend and he knew- knew he needed to get out of there, because there was Sandy and Sandy wasn't coming towards him but the dreamsand was still there and what if he threw it Jack couldn't dodge with a broken leg- he inched farther, eyes wide and terrified and not daring to move from the Sandman's tiny body. Sandy still stood there but the dreamsand still flickered above his head and Jack inched more, closer and closer, backing up but-

"Sandy! What are you doing here? Is Jack asle-"

Jack hit something as unmoving as a wall in the space inside the door-frame. He half-turned and side-stepped, eyes frantically searching for even the smallest bit of room he could squeeze through, could run he needed to run he neededtoru-

"Jack? Jack, are you alright?"

But North's voice only added to his terror and he lunged blindly at the door, not caring that North's body was still in it, only knowing he needed to get away. from. Sandy. Air was hard to come by, and Jack's lungs weren't working properly; tiny, rapid breaths not taking in enough oxygen. In some part far in the back of his brain Jack knew he didn't have much time until he passed out.

North moved, and finally there was room. Jack lunged again, slipping through North's grasping arms, sliding past his bulk and running.

He sprinted down the hallway, breaths coming so fast his vision began to darken, ducking blindly into what his brain had catalogued as a safe room, not bothering to shut the door before he dove into a pile of reject blankets and pillows and buried himself in them.

Jack expected footsteps to sound after him, but only silence met his ears. After North and Sandy failed to come after him for several seconds, Jack closed his eyes and leaned back into the blankets. His breathing slowly began to return to normal.

Several minutes later, he heard footsteps coming towards him. A quiet voice accompanied them. Jack forced himself to breathe evenly as he recognized the voice as North- which meant Sandy must be there too, since North wouldn't just talk to himself.

"No, he could not have. He does not have his staff."

A pause.

"Well, we tried to give it to him but he refused. Just the sight of it seemed to...scare him."

Jack raised his head out of the blankets, listening intently. This was as good a way as any to discover their true plans.

"Yes, he has a badly broken leg. I am not sure how he was able to run on it, but..." North's tone seemed upset. The footsteps were getting closer now; now they paused. Jack's eyes went wide. Of course! This room was only a few doors down from Sandy's guest room. Although it meant their chances of detecting him were higher, it also meant Sandy might finally reveal his plot. Jack cautiously crawled out of the blankets and up to the cracked-open door, hiding against the wall so they wouldn't see him.

North heaved a sigh. "He still believes we were the ones who hurt him. We have tried to get him to know reason, but he grows angry when we do. Pitch- if it is Pitch- has done his work well."

Another pause.

"He will not tell us anything. He believes we have already lived through it, after all. Whatever he believes you did to him, Sandy...we have no idea." North huffed, voice rising a bit in frustration, then paused again. "You...want to stay here at North Pole? Sandy, that..." North hesitated, seeming to be trying to find the right words. "It might not be good idea, no? You saw...how Jack reacted to seeing you."

Jack cautiously peeped out to see North's back and Sandy's faintly glowing face. Something about Sandy's glow was strange, almost, but Jack decided not to think about it, even as the mere sight of the two Guardians threatened to drive him to panic again. He closed his eyes. They can't hurt you here. They don't even know you're here.

More symbols flashed over the Sandman's head. Jack was fairly quick at interpreting them, but North was quicker- quicker, Jack thought uneasily, than he remembered North being. Not much, but he didn't question his interpretation anymore, just answered- like he had more practice. Or had simply cared more to learn.

"And," North continued, apparently ignoring Sandy's thoughts- Jack had translated it out to mean something like 'I want to make sure he heals properly'- "You have dreamsand to share with children. They...they have more need of you than Jack does, my friend. He...right now, he..."

Sandy crossed his arms and glared at the other Guardian. A snowflake, food, sleep, bandages...then a question mark. What does he need, then?

There was a long silence. "I...do not know."

More symbols. We lost him for three years. Now he thinks we're like Pitch. Sandy scowled. Added a sign. Worse than Pitch. And he's hurt. It wasn't lost on Jack that Sandy used not just Jack's snowflake, but a brain as well, to symbolize hurt.

As though those last words had been some truth neither Guardian had wanted to face, both of them slumped. The anger in Sandy's expression slowly drained, to be replaced by sadness.

"And he thinks it was we who did it to him. Sandy, how have we failed him so much?"

Jack pulled back from the door at the sound of North's voice. The Guardian of Wonder sounded more hurt than Jack ever remembered hearing before.

There was such a long silence that Jack finally looked back again. He saw the Guardian of Wonder and the Guardian of Dreams standing there, pain and sadness in every inch of their caved-in shoulders, their lowered heads. Finally, North straightened, but his voice still held a shadow of that grief and guilt when he spoke again. "Good night, my friend. Tomorrow, we will call Bunny and Tooth and discuss, yes?"

Sandy nodded. Good night, he said in his own way.

North walked away and Sandy silently shut the door to his room. Jack drew back and stared up at the ceiling.

What had he just heard?