Diclaimer: I don't know Danny Phantom or the RotG, but if I did both, you can bet your rears that Fright Night would be the spirit of Halloween instead of the one they have in the Guardians of the Childhood books.
AN: Early update… pretty cool, huh? I hope you like Sandman's POV. I got 14 reviews on the last one, and I said I would type 200 words per review so… that makes it 280 words (well, a bit more, but that was the goal). I hope you enjoy it ^_^
PS: I might have made more mistakes than usual with this one. Please, feel free to PM any complains.
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Chapter 6: The meeting before Christmas.
It was a very unusual night; Sanderson Mansnoozie couldn't help but notice. Usually, by this hour, he would be flying under the starry sky, delivering dreams in the form of sparkling gold dust to the sleeping children in the world; instead of that, he now found himself pausing, and sighing at the sight in front of him. The endless expanse of dark, blue sky, peppered with shiny little stars had been decorated with a rainbow colored band that danced like the waves of the sea as they clashed into a non-existing shore. Sanderson Mansnoozie, the Sandman, would recognize the sight anywhere: an aurora borealis, a phenomenon native of the pole that the Guardian of Wonder could extend from his domain to call from the guardians when an emergency surged.
Usually, the petit guardian would undoubtedly make his way to Santa's workshop with haste, deeply worried for the sake of the children of Earth… usually. However, this had been the second night in a row that he had seen the emergency signal, and, to be perfectly honest, the first one had been a false alarm.
It had not been the first time in which Nicholas S. North had abused his status as the leader of guardians. Every decade-or-so, the Russian would panic for something silly around the time of the "Great Day": "SLIDE IS GONE!" Sandman remembered North say in his last 'Christmas Emergency'. On that occasion, the yetis had moved to start loading the toys, as per usual, but the bearded man somehow managed to forget it, making the other guardians to rush stupidly, and arrive just in time to see the slide being paraded around just behind North —who still had both his arms fully raised to emphasize his words, and lowered moments after noticing the miraculous return of the slide with a "Would you look at that, it had been found!".
That had been annoying. But, to be truthful, they knew North tended to be a bit over the top, and being convinced that Christmas was the most important of all festivities made him unnecessary worried at every single detail, checking and re-checking the Naughty and Nice lists, and driving the yetis mad as they were pressured to work extra time as if they hadn't been preparing for the event for a whole year. Nevertheless, the yetis had gotten very used to the days before Christmas being hectic, and they humored their boss.
In such "times of crisis", usually, the Sandman would make the trip dutifully, to meet with a grumbling Bunnymund and Toothania, who traditionally was the one to try and calm down North with reassuring words. This scenario, predictably, was the one the Guardian of Dreams had walked on into the day before, as North Rambled on and on about a kid who seemingly hated Christmas.
The guardians of memories, dreams and hope had been about to leave when Jack Frost, who had been present at North's visit to Amity Park, managed to make them stay a little bit longer, as he explained that this teen could both himself and North, and touch them despite not showing any signs of being a believer. This revelation was more worthy of their attention than the first, though not enough for the Tooth Fairy to leave her realm unsupervised. Likewise, the duty of delivering dreams to the children of the world weighted more than an oddity, and both Jack and North had a lot of work to do at that time of the year, which made it impossible to try and figure out the mystery that was Daniel Fenton… That had only left one guardian to look after the matter; one particularly grumpy, and particularly free-scheduled guardian that had absolutely nothing to do every year until a couple of days before Ester.
It quite a bit of coaxing from North –and several snide remarks from Jack—for the grumpy guardian to agree to what he deemed a total waste of time. Still, it was clear for the Guardian of Dreams that the bunny mostly agreed because of a 'heat of the moment' kind of thing. Curiosity and the fact that Nicholas S. North would probably neglect his job some if the bunny didn't keep an eye on Daniel Fenton might have something to do as well, but Sandman was no mind reader, so he couldn't tell for sure —though he had known the Easter Rabbit well enough to make an educated guess.
The Sandman let out a tired, soundless sigh. It was bothersome, to put it mildly, that his duty of delivering happy dreams to the children of the world had been interrupted a second time in two days, but he had resigned himself to his fate.
Briefly glaring at the signal, the Sandman reluctantly made his way back to the frozen wasteland that was the Pole. If anyone could have seen him at that moment, they would have seen the long-necked dinosaur he had been ridding turn into a motor boat, then sail over the waves of colorful light that splashed the nighttime sky with vibrant luminosity.
With the power of magic, the chubby, golden guardian made it all the way to the Globe Room of Santa's home in mere seconds. As soon as he crossed the window, he let his dream-boat vanish, then slowly floated down to the ground, tapping his foot on air in annoyance as he continued to hover barely above the smooth floor of the room. It didn't take long for the Guardian of Dreams to take in what was happening in the big, wide room. As he looked around for North, dearly awaiting for an explanation, he noticed Toothania buzzing around the room like a bumblebee, panicking about something, and letting out a row of words so fastly-spoken that he was unable make out what she was saying.
Following the line of sight of the Guardian of Memories, Sandman could see the one he was looking for –North—standing alongside with Jack. Sandman made his way to join the other three guardians –none of which seemed to have noticed him yet— but stopped as he finally saw what Toothania was fretting about: the remaining guardian, E. Aster Bunnymund, had been carefully put on top of a soft-looking bed Sandman was fairly sure hadn't been there ever before.
The fact that the Easter Bunny was completely unconscious barely registered on his mind as he took notice of the blackened marks that criss-crossed the rabbit's fur, covering his body on slowly-healing scars no less abundant than the strips of a Zebra. It was clear that the Guardian of Hope had been attacked, and the somber air that surrounded his stilled body made it very clear who the attacker had been: Pitch.
A thousand questions ran on the petit guardian's mind as Toothania, Jack and North all tried to speak at the same time. Sandman continued to be ignored.
Feeling like losing his patience after a while –his little jumps and arm-waving were having no reaction—Sandman turned his head around in search for one of the little elves. He wasn't particularly fond of shaking the smaller creatures as a way to get attention, but the sound of the chiming-bells attached to their hats seemed to be very effective to accomplish just that.
Soon enough, his eyes landed on one of the small, silly creatures chomping on a candy-cane-shaped cookie. The small elf had not noticed the predatory golden eyes sitting on him until he was yanked backwards, the half-chewed cookie in his mouth falling as the abruptness of the unexpected movement.
#DING DING DING DING DING*
Loud chatter came to an abrupt stop as three pair of eyes zeroed on the Sandman.
"Oh! Sandy, you are finally here!" North loudly proclaimed. Sandman Huffed, round cheeks turning a tad chubbier than they usually were.
"North, what happened to him?" Toothania asked worriedly once more, slowlier than before but just as frantic.
"It was Pitch," Jack Frost cut in with a rare serious expression.
"Pitch?" Toothania echoed high-pitchedly. "But, it can't be! We defeated him!"
"That we did," North agreed, "But there is no mistake. It was him, and power he held was same as it was during Great War!"
"What?" Toothania's instant exclamation was one of horror. So many sacrifices had been made in that war, a war they had barely made it through victorious. Still… "But, last time it took him so long to come back! And the world is nothing like it was back then. He shouldn't be able to gather so much strength, especially not that fast!" The guardian of memories was one who never forgot anything, especially not something as memorable as Pitch's reign of terror, and what kind of power he had held back there.
Sandman's worry matched Tooth's own. If what he was hearing was true… then Pitch might be stronger than all of them combined once more.
"The Great War?" Jack asked. He, as the youngest guardian, had not been around long enough to know about what the guardians had gone through to make the light prevail over darkness a few millennia ago.
"Great War, my friend, was long before you were born. Light and Darkness fought! Pitch lost! Guardians won! That is why world is now filled with hope, dreams and wonder," North explained proudly, his excitement clear in his voice. However, that all deflated and the previous seriousness was back with a tint of a foreboding shadow "Much was lost…"
"We need to stop Pitch," Tooth cut in. "We have to stop him before it's too late!"
A glowing question mark of golden sand formed on top of the Sandman's head, doubt clear in his face.
"No idea, Sandy, but we must find way."
Whatever follow-up was interrupted before it started as a deep groan came from the once-unconscious guardian at the groups right, "what… doin'… where?" E. Aster Bunnymund spoke weakly between chokes and tried to get up, before a big hand pushed him back gently.
"You are in Pole. Safe," North reassured.
"The Pole, what I…" the guardian of hope trailed, before trying to jump once more out of the bed. "The kid!" But instead of fully standing up he was forced down into the matters once more.
"Kid is fine. He is next room. You need to rest," North declared.
"Kid? What kid?" Tooth asked the question in the Sandman's mind, and North scratched the side of his forehead thoughtfully.
"Well…" The Guardian of Wonder began, "Bunny was not alone when Pitch attacked. Kid, Daniel, was with him, so we took him here."
"Daniel Fenton?" Toothania asked to the air in recognition to the name of the teenager North had rambled about the day before. "You brought a teenager to this place?"
Sandman, despite being unable to join the verbal conversation, had been intently listening to every word, and could not help but suspecting that the only reason the Guardian of Hope had been attacked was because being alone and outside his domains at night —watching over the teenager— had turned that rabbit into an easy target for Pitch, who was, apparently, back.
A dreadful feeling crept to the Sandman's stomach as he remembered the state his comrade had been moment ago.
"Why did you bring 'im 'ere again?" Bunnymund asked, snapping the Sandman out of his musings.
"We had no choice," Jack explained to the bunny, "We barely had any time to save you both from Pitch. There was no time for dropping him at his home."
"You could do it now, mate," Bunnymund retorted "We can't bring kids to this place!"
"But we can't put him back, he is involved now… plus, is not like you have never done it."
"Sophie Benet makin' it to my den was North's fault," The Guardian of Hope reminded.
"Guys, guys, let us not fight." North played pace-keeper —conveniently cutting before any of them could point out that both transgressions had been his fault in some way.
Feeling like the conversation had gone off-course, Sanderson Mansnoozie manipulated his golden sand, creating a humanoid figure —not unlike that in the door of public bathrooms— over his head.
"Ah, indeed, the kid—" North began, but, as if on cue, was interrupted by a yell, followed by a lot of loud thuds and bangs that came from the other side of the door. All of a sudden, the sound of a siren began to fill the air, and an intense red light began flashing all over the toyshop, looking like it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
"What in world?"
The Guardian of Wonder, completely forgetting his explanation, turned around. In a very brief span of time, the Russian's his long, thick legs had taken him all the way to the wooded door, then he opened it as fast as he could.
North stopped in the arch of the door, unusually silent, although the sounds of crashes and hits kept on echoing in the distance.
Curious, Sanderson Mansnoozie floated up to take a peek above North's bulk —which blocked the view almost completely— and felt his golden jaw fall as he took in the view of the Toyshop. Mountains of toys had been toppled, buckets of paint flowing like a river on the floor and several little elves were dangling from the colorful Christmas lights. The sweet smell of cookies that used to be ever-present was replaced by a burnt smell that were likely to have been the cause of the scotched marks on a rope tied to the ceiling from which a huge toy airplane had been hanging —now the plane was half burnt and utterly destroyed on the floor, tell-tale wisps of smoke flowing from it.
"WHAT HAS HAPPENED HERE!" North yelled in horror, the destruction left and right probably had messed his schedule horribly.
"It must have been Pitch," Jack Frost concluded instantly at the face of the destruction, "he must be trying to ruin Christmas this year."
"Just like he tried destroyin' Easter," Bunnymund took out one of his boomerangs, and gave a wobbly step forwards.
"You are in no condition to fight yet." Toothania prevented the rabbit from falling, the damage in his last battle with the boogieman had probably caused more than skin-deep damage.
"THERE IS NO TIME TO LOSE! Tooth, take Bunnymund back to room. Jack, Sandy, let us go!" North instructed, looking around, trying to chose which way to go.
As in response to North's action, a trembling hand shot up from one particularly large mountain of wrapped presents, and yeti with a purple eye limped his way out of the mountain. "Grmphtft" the yeti grumbled and managed to point out in the direction the carnage of toys seemed to spread before fainting.
North shot forwards without thinking it twice, the Guardian of Fun and the Guardian of Dreams following right behind.
The rooms the tree guardians passed by fused into colorful blurs, the corridors had a trail of wet pain in the shape of shoes —which clearly belonged to an outsider, because yetis didn't wear shoes and the feet of elves were nowhere as big as the footprints— along with flickering green flames that lit up the way with an unnatural glow, which mixed with the intense red of the emergency alarm. Red and green, the colors of Chrismas, mixed in a trail of destruction, turning into a mockery to what the holyday represented.
It took barely a few minutes to close in on the culprit of the destruction, and a yeti was thrown in their way like the massive beast was a pillow. North and Jack were unable to avoid the impact, but Sandman's petite size was close enough to the ground to avoid the attack without moving from the spot.
As the two white-haired guardians were victims of the yeti's momentum, Sandman moved forwards resolutely into a room in which four yetis —probably the last remaining standing, if the unconscious ones all over the place was anything to go by— were trying to grab a white-haired, floating spirit Sandman never recalled meeting before.
The fact that the attacker had not been Pitch came as a surprise, but even more so it did the fact that the elusive spirit, who was openly mocking the yetis, wasn't giving any malicious vibe. On the contrary, it seemed to glow with a white light, and the Sandman could see dreams of stars and rockets dancing in the unnaturally-glowing green orbs of the unknown spirit.
Every instinct in Sandman's body was screaming at him not to attack the destructive intruder —as absurd as it might sound.
The hesitation to attack was definitely because, beyond the raging fire in the green orbs, the Sandman could see dreams of twinkling stars floating on the endless blackness; dreams of rockets and astronauts; the heart of one who dreams of space…
Sandman could not believe anyone with dreams like the ones reflected in the eyes of the newcomer could be inherently evil.
Unfortunately, the golden guardian was not blessed with a voice, and his fellow guardians were blind to the dreams of others and how those dreams revealed their souls.
Fluorescent green eyes met golden for an endless instant.
Then, with a blast of winter-blue light and ice, all hell broke loose.
To be continued.
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AN: Hi there people. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. The next one will probably be longer because I can get Danny to smash things.
Before I continue, I want to apologize to any fans of the Tooth Fairy, because she is the only guardian I have yet to make a POV on. Truth is that, well… the fairy never came to my place. I was placed in the district in which mice give teeth.
I still remember when I lost my first tooth, I had been brushing my teeth and it went down the drain. I cried and cried, but my mom told me to write a letter letting it know what had happened.
I had never written a letter to a mouse, but I did my best, and fetched some jam and cheese for him… The next morning I got a card back, letting me know the mouse went down the drain and found my teeth, and he left me the money under my pillow.
I was overjoyed. From that point on I wrote to him every time I lost a teeth, and I would get a reply back. Back then, only my mom could read the letter —as mice don't usually have a good calligraphy— but the mouse that came to my place wrote me back so often that he improved enough so I could read the notes too (my dad explained that to me when I could suddenly read what was written).
From my own experience I can't help but conclude that I was lucky not to get into the territory of the tooth fairy because 1) winged beings don't go down drains and 2)I doubt that baby tooth would have been able to write me back.
Thanks for those who read my ramble. Let the floss be with you!