Hey guys, welcome to Chapter 32 of Running for Life! (Just found out that this story [not including author's notes] is longer than the first Harry Potter book...that's awesome)

First things first: reviews! Thanks so much to Yukomin, Nekohime1 (Awesome, good to have you back! And aw, don't cry XD), BooksAreMedicine (Hm, not quite a split-up, more of...well, you'll see! Now we see the benefits of having Sandy around for the "betrayal"...), Serami Nefera, yummypie193, laurcuna, queenlaur, Brenne, jackandelsaforever101, Wake Me Up When It's All Over, OneWhoDreamz (Haha, not to spoil anything, but I think you're good on that front. Just needed to get a little creepiness in there!), rwbygirl, and Randomly Talented!

Now, without further ado, on with the chapter!

Chapter 32: Excessive Precautions

He knew that people were afraid of him.

He had known this since he was eleven, and though he understood better now, at the time, this fact did nothing but confuse him. He was a kid, after all, and kids weren't supposed to be scary. They were supposed to be protected from scary things.

So why was it the opposite for him?

He at least knew that he was hated because he was a snow sprite. That much was made obvious. What he didn't understand was why. Why did his white hair proclaim him a monster? Why did his pointed ears brand him as a threat?

Why did his magic make him a demon?

He'd never done anything to hurt anyone, had he? Sure, he and his friends had had play-fights from time to time when they were younger, but no serious injuries had ever come out of anything like that. No, he was confident that he had never done anything that would warrant people being afraid of him. He was small, scrawny, young, and his magic didn't even work right! What was there to fear?

As he aged, he was able to figure out the answer to his younger self's questions; there was nothing to fear. Humans were afraid of him simply because of the unfounded, unproven rumors about his kind. Was it fair?

Of course not. But as the saying went, life wasn't fair. He knew that better than anyone. Still, he couldn't help but feel frustrated with the way that things were. Being the object of other people's fear made his stomach turn uncomfortably.

He knew that people were afraid of him.

But he despised the feeling of being feared.

()()()()

Jack decided that he hated everything.

Pain was the only sensation he could feel. In fact, he could barely even think due to the endless shockwaves of pain that coursed through his body. He didn't try to move; he knew that if he did, it would only make the pain worse. Jack wasn't even sure if his eyes were open or closed. They felt as though they were open, but he couldn't see a thing. Perhaps he had somehow gone blind?

No, that wasn't it. Now that he concentrated on it, he could feel a length of fabric that had been wrapped tightly around his head, covering his eyes. He also seemed to be lying on his stomach, draped awkwardly over something, though he felt steady movement that only added to the pain he experienced, which almost felt like intense sunburn, he supposed. He knew the feeling well; his pale skin did not do much to protect him from the sun.

His ears twitched. They had been tightly bound with cloth as well, and he could not hear a single sound, nor could he speak, due to the gag in his mouth. Not that he ever would have spoken, of course. Such an action would most likely worsen his pain.

Little by little, the pain faded until it was merely a dull ache throbbing though his skin. Now that the discomfort was tolerable, Jack was able to wonder just what exactly was happening to him.

His mind was awfully foggy, but after wrestling with his own thoughts for a while, he was able to remember a few things that had happened. He recalled his discussion with the Guardians regarding the plan to take down the Nightmare King, and he also remembered continuing to trai-

Wait, his own thoughts interrupted him. The Nightmare King...that's important somehow… He wracked his brains for the reason why.

His stomach dropped like a stone.

The...the Nightmare King, he...he captured me… Jack thought fearfully, suddenly feeling ill. O-Or Onyx did...or a Fearling, or a Nightmare, or whatever...he...he turned me into...I was a…

If there hadn't been a gag keeping his mouth tightly closed, he was sure he would have vomited. He remembered everything. He remembered the transition from sprite to Fearling. He remembered hunting down the Guardians. He remembered lying to them. He remembered sinking his claws into their flesh, feeling their blood splatter all over his inky black skin.

He remembered liking-no...loving it.

Whether he slipped back into unconsciousness, he wasn't sure. If not, however, that meant that his mind had simply gone blank for an extended period of time.

When he recovered the ability to think, he almost always wished that he hadn't. Thoughts flooded his formerly empty brain, swirling through it and causing a distinct pounding in his skull.

They believed my lies.

They hate me.

They bound me again.

They don't trust me.

I don't blame them.

I'm a prisoner again.

They hate me.

I care that they hate me.

I don't want them to hate me.

I wish they still trusted me.

They won't.

I want to die.

I tried to kill them.

I couldn't resist it.

I wasn't strong enough.

I deserve to be bound.

I deserve to die.

Or maybe I don't.

Maybe I deserve to live.

Maybe I deserve to suffer.

()()()()

It must have been hours before Jack finally felt himself being moved in a different way than what had already been occurring. His state of being blind and deaf to the world around him was disorienting, but, at the very least, he could tell when chains were being wrapped around him, cuffs being clamped around his ankles, wrists, and neck. The moment the metal touched him, Jack felt what little magic was always ready for summoning fade away, retreating far enough back so that he'd never be able to use it as long as it remained there.

These must be like those handcuffs they put on my when they first captured me, Jack thought numbly. Then, This seems excessive…

Excessive or not, being heavily chained was how he was treated, and while he didn't like it, he could at least admit that he deserved it. A small, stubborn voice in the back of his mind told him that, considering the fact that he hadn't quite been in control of himself, he didn't deserve such unfair treatment.

But Jack remembered everything extremely clearly now. Though it was true that his judgement and morals had been warped, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that he had ultimately given in willingly. He thought of the voracious hunger that had clawed at his belly and swallowed around the gag. It had been a desperate, almost primal kind of hunger for nothing but Fear and death, and it terrified him.

He had felt it, and he had pursued it.

Maybe 'twas not my fault… he thought nervously. Maybe I'm remembering things wrong...perhaps the transformation simply mind-controlled me? It wouldn't be surprising if that were the case...still...I feel like I should have been able to fight it off, and yet...I didn't.

He scowled bitterly, closing his blindfolded eyes. Anyone "destined" to be a Guardian would have been able to resist the darkness, and yet here I am. They've finally all figured out that they can't trust me, simply because I was susceptible to the Nightmare King's attack. Tsar Lunar was wrong...I'm not a Guardian, and I never will be. I'm not a "good person". I've killed, wounded, and stolen from others, only to make sure that I stayed alive. They had reasons to live. I don't.

Jack laid back against the post that he had been chained to, figuring that the Guardians had set up camp for the night. Considering his current situation, he knew that there would be only four tents pitched tonight.

I'm not a hero. I'm not a savior with a heart of gold, immune to all temptations of evil. I'm not entirely bad myself, but I'm no saint either. I don't deserve to be held up on a diamond-studded pedestal with the Guardians. I deserve to be bound and gagged, left outside for the night.

I'm in my rightful place.

()()()()

Jack did not remember falling asleep. He did not remember dreaming. He did not remember waking up. And yet somehow, he remembered having a conversation within a dream that had occurred just minutes before. He hadn't been able to "hear" the person per se, but somehow he had known exactly who had been speaking to him and what they were telling him.

It was Sandy.

I had to contact you through a dream, Jack, had been the words that Sandy put into his mind. They were voiceless, as was the Sand-Spinner, but they simply fell into Jack's head as though coming from a normal conversation. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to see my sand images. I'm sorry we had to chain you up, and so are the others, I think. They didn't want to have to do this to do, but what your Fearling self told us left them no choice. I tried to tell them that it must have been a lie, but they wouldn't listen to me. They don't want to believe that you've betrayed us, however. The others are merely taking precautions.

Jack, your eyes and ears were covered so that we could discuss you freely without you overhearing. I will tell you the results of this conversation; despite the initial anger the others felt, they are sincerely regretting their actions. Still, we all want to be careful. Once again, I truly apologize for your current circumstances, but until we find out the truth, you must remain in that state.

This is where I come in.

As I mentioned before, you are dreaming, Jack. I'm not actually here speaking to you, only placing words inside your mind for you to mull over when you awaken. In order for a Sand-Spinner like me to see into a person's dreams, and by extent, their mind, I need that person's permission. It won't hurt; in fact, you won't even realize it's happened. I also won't look into dreams I have no business seeing-of that, you have my word.

So please, Jack. In order to clear your name with the four of us, you must allow me to see the truth. Will you let me in?

Jack knew that Sandy, and potentially the other Guardians, were most likely standing before him, waiting for him to wake up and give his response. For a long moment, he sat still, head still slumped in the position it had been in as he slept.

Should I? he thought uncertainly. While he certainly wanted to clear his name, he wasn't sure if any information Sandy might find would do the job. Sandy would induce a dream about what had happened, and see Jack's response to it. He would know about Jack's uncertainties, his insecurities. He would know that, although he had never wanted to become a Fearling, he still hadn't fought it as hard as he probably should have. Would this satisfy the Guardians? Or would it merely confirm to them that he deserved to be bound and gagged until they put him to use?

I have to make my choice… Jack thought, taking a deep breath. He lifted his head, feeling a bit ridiculous, as he had no way of knowing if anyone was actually there, watching him. He sat up straight, keeping his expression as neutral as physically possible.

He nodded.

Minutes later, his chains were removed.

So, now we know how Jack responded to his little Fearling experience, and a bit of Sandy's thoughts...but how will the other Guardians act? Of course, we know they regret chaining him up like that...but how else?

...well, you'll all just have to find out next week! Haha, suspense! Anywho, I hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you guys next time for Chapter 33!

'Til then, Sapphire316, out.