This is a bit of a nudge towards one of my oneshots "The Pills Don't Bring Sweet Dreams". So yeah :)

It's focused on Sandy this time, our very own glittery bamf. I do love him!

Enjoy!

Clandestine, adj
- kept or done in secret

Sandy spent hours upon hours every day traversing the globe and spreading dreams among the children, if they believed or not. In his eye, no matter what a child thought or believed they deserved dreams. Dreams were what sparked ambition, ambition drove people forward and helped them achieve goals. Everyone deserved a dream because everyone had the capacity within themselves for greatness. A job, a career, a lifestyle. Whatever it was, it all started with a dream.

It started with him.

But not all of the people he gave dreams to were children, not all of the people who lived on this earth had been given the opportunity to strive for something in life, and recently events had drawn him to one particular building out of all of those in the world. One institute that kept potentially dangerous people away from the rest of society.

A mental hospital.

And in the night people screamed, and sobbed, and fought. People were kept their for the safety of others and more significantly for their own safety.

One young woman draw him in.

She'd suffered with nightmares for years, and for years he'd struggled with the idea of going to help her, but she was twenty six now and so far past the age he went to to give dreams to. But he was drawn to the room she was in, watched in worry as she tossed and turned in her sleep, whimpering and sobbing as the nightmares plagued her. A young woman, slightly overweight, choppy brown hair that fell longer in the front over here eyes and shorted in the back, and when he eyes flew open in the second reality crashed back around her and the nightmare faded, and she stared at him in a mixture of shock and confusion.

But she wasn't scared, and the longer they watched one another, the more comfortable they both began feeling, and he approached slowly and sat on her bed, and throwing all caution to the wind the oldest of the Guardians took her hand and stroked his thumb along her knuckles gently, and she fell asleep.

Every night after that Sandy visited the girl, taking her hand and sending her into peaceful sleep, making sure the nightmares stayed away, and the dreams kept her calm. The more he was around her the more he understood her condition. Severe schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression and a suicide attempt kept her locked in this institute, her fits of anger kept bars on the outside of the window and the furniture in the room minimal to make sure there was nothing she could use to attack a matron.

He sympathised with her. Worried for her. She was too old for the Guardians to really take under their wing, her beliefs warped with her mind so not even she really knew what to believe in or think about.

It was a routine he worked himself into, a secret he kept close to him because he wasn't overly sure how the other Guardians would react to him helping this girl sleep. He suspected they'd come around to the idea, but often he wondered if she spoke about him to anyone and made them worry more for her mental health if she was seeing more beings. If it would make it harder to see her, or harder for her to express herself and be believed in. He didn't know if she'd be able to cope on her own again if he couldn't make it one night. It worried him.

And if it worried him, then it would worry the others. He knew it would, but they would eventually come around to the idea like he had.

Right now though, all this woman needed was someone to care for her. Someone who would hold her hand through all the hard times and see her through them, and no matter what would accept her for who she was. He was simply showing her a little kindness, and he hoped sincerely that she would be okay, or more so than she was right now.

But he would keep it secret, because in his eyes there was noone but the woman and himself that needed to know.