NORTH TO SOUTH, EAST TO WEST
Chapter: Wistfulness
Prompt: Knowledge
Characters: Sandy
a/n: Sandy-centric, initially part of chapter 5, amiguity, but I decided to split them up. It had a good reception so I hope this one does too! thank you for reading-
WISTFULNESS
Sandy knows a lot of things. Countless centuries do give you more than a lifetime of knowledge.
Only God knows how long Sandy's been alive. Even the Sandman himself has forgotten how many years had passed him by. Years and years of accumulated experiences and knowledge makes the tiny man very wise.
As a result, everybody expects him to have all the answers to their questions.
He's the sandman, not superman. It gets frustrating.
No, North, he doesn't know how to say Merry Christmas in Japanese or Dutch or Estonian. No, Tooth, he doesn't know how many premolars a shark has. No, Bunnymund, he doesn't know how many numbats there are in Australia.
(He doesn't know what numbats are.)
In fact, everything comes in blurs with him. The years of information that have passed by him begin to merge together in an indecipherable cloud until he forgets it completely.
Only a few things are clear as day to him.
He knows North always forgets to shut the door of the workshop. He always leaves a plate of unfinished cookies on his workbench, that the elves like to finish off. North is organized enough, but forgetful.
He knows Tooth is scared when she murmurs to herself. She eats when she's stressed, she doesn't stay still when she's angry, and she counts the number of tooth capsules she has when she's anxious.
He knows Bunnymund has a more emotional spot than everyone else, it's just hidden underneath layers and layers of denial and stubbornness. You just need a pickaxe to hack through his outer shell.
He knows Jack's been crying when he comes down from the globe room after a long time being gone. His hair will be a little messier than usual, and his hands and feet are curled up. But the real giveaway is the soft wetness in his eyes that is hard to spot under his grey, icy defense of a stare.
Sometimes Sandy thinks he knows everyone else better than he knows himself.
He can't decide on a favorite color – it's between red and yellow on most days, occasionally green. He has no idea why he gets frustrated when he hears rock music, he shuts every single door he walks in and out of, even if he's been asked to leave it open. He has a fear of going to sleep, without explanation. He only speaks when spoken to, even though he doesn't speak, he can't read very well, he dislikes even the thought of going to school, despite probably going as a human child.
All strange, unexplainable things that can't seem to figure out about himself, why he's like this, why he likes and dislikes these things, why he's like this without any memories of his past life.
He's had to make up who he is along the way of becoming a guardian. For reasons unknown, he's become this – a quiet, creative, conservatively fierce little sandman – sometimes he doesn't really like who he is, and wishes he was more like determined Bunnymund, passionate Tooth, brave Jack or thoughtful North.
But his guardians won't let him change a thing about himself – another thing that escapes his mind every now and then; he means so much to them, now and forever, more than he'll ever know.
a/n: reminder that all suggestions are considered (like, a lot, I'm stuck, hence infrequent updating...)